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princesssmars · 1 year

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love's philosophy

a catherine the great x reader

during a political trip to russia, you meet the rather peculiar emperor and his no less than extraordinary new bride.

wc: 5.779

contains: fluff bc catherine is a cutie who can do no wrong. me hating on peter. peter cheats (boo). catherine almost cheats (yay). i binged the show months ago so some things might not be accurate im sorry yall.

the only thing you could see outside of the carriage window were woods. cold, thin, and mostly dead.

what you guess would be the typical landscape for an russian spring.

but, occasionally, youd catch the patches of green of the rising grass, the small buds of blooming tree blossoms, and the rare small animal making its way from its winter slumber.

you hoped these signs of new and returning life were signs of what was to happen on this trip.

you and two of your most entrusted advisors had been sent to negotiate some new trade deals with peter, the emperor of russia. he had taken the throne after his fathers passing a few years ago, and youd heard many things about him through the grapevine.

(granted, none of the things you heard were very pleasant. in your opinion, he sounded like a bit of a man-child, unfit for the throne after his father's passing. but you kept these thoughts to you. this would help your country prosper, and create a hopefully helpful alliance.)

"i just want to remind you, princess, that things work very differently here in russia," your best friend and first advisor, anna, whispers from beside you, her big fur coat and scarf nearly obstructing your view of her face. her worried eyes peeked out from the gaps and you'd had to try not to laugh when you saw it. "its nothing like genovia here. the people are crass, rude, vulgar-"

"sounds like this will be a fun trip then." you jest, cutting off your dear friends ramblings and smiling when she glares at you. she always was a bit of a worrywart. but it was endearing.

"normally id critique our dear annas worrying, but this time she is right." a deep voice pipes up from in front of you both. the person in question is your other friend and advisor, thomas. he was the more critical and pessimistic of the two, but he was a softie at heart. "things work differently here, so we should tread wuth caution. i should give you some warnings before we enter the palace."

"alright, what do i need to know?" you sigh, relaxing into your seat. this could take a while.

"as you most likely already know, the new czar peter has taken over after the death of his father, also named peter. stop smiling, yn. the boy is much different than his father, known for his rather...extravagant ways. just try not to piss him off. he should be a bit more mello after marrying his new bride."

your head perks up. "bride? i didn't hear anything about a bride. why haven't i heard that hes been married? shouldn't you have told me this?"

thomas' eyes widen as he tries to argue against it before realizing that yes, he somehow forgot to tell you. he tries to ignore anna's teasing face.

"my apologies for forgetting, princess. yes, he has recently married a girl from france. her name is catherine. from what i've heard shes a rather timid girl, at least to russian standards. there should be no trouble on the front."

his knowing stare on you makes you pout. so yes, you might have slightly flirted with the wife of the ruler of italy. and you might have ended up in the same bed with her. whoops. but to be fair, she told you how dreadfully boring her husband was and how she was looking for something exciting and new in her life, looking at you with those big, wanting eyes...

"yn! stop daydreaming!" annas elbow nudges you, pulling you from your memory. your face feels hot when both of your friends laugh at you.

"oh please, you both know me. ill be on my best behavior. princess's promise."

so you might have fumbled with the promise. just a little.

after a long...loooong ride, you all had finally arrived at the russian winter palace, the grand estate nearly taking your breath away. or maybe that was the biting cold. your admiration was cut short by a gruff voice welcoming you. it came from a tall and stout man, his white wig contrasting against his flushed face and permanent frown.

"welcome to the palace, your royal highness. my name is velementov, peters war general. i've been tasked with escorting you inside safely. if you'll follow me."

he immediately starts towards the entrance, forgetting to check if you were following. as hes walking he nearly trips over some of the gravel on the ground. thomas whips his head over to you and anna when he hears a muffled giggle.

"sorry, that one was me." anna whispers, trying to compose herself.

you and your party follow the general in to the palace, walking through the grand halls and admiring the art within them. including the massive statue of peter the first.

"oh, this is just a great piece of work," anna awes, craning her neck up to observe the statue in greater detail. "how long did it take to complete?"

"i don't really remember. maybe two years." the general grunts, taking a pause before continuing on his way. the look on thomas' face makes you think hes regretting this decision.

eventually the peculiar general stops at two large doors, leading to what you presume is peters chambers.

"um, shouldn't we do this somewhere more formal? a meeting room or parlor, for example." thomas says, walking a bit faster while speaking to walk directly next to velementov.

"ideally yes, but first i must check if the prince is ready to meet you. he could still be hungover. or fucking. or both."

the three of you are a bit too stunned to react.

when velementov opens the doors, the muffled sounds of grunting, moaning, and a loud thumping on the walls rings through the hallway leading to peters bedroom. velemontov grunts, whispering something to one of the guards before escorting the three of you back into the wider hallways.

"peters busy. until he's ready you may be escorted by a guard around the toyr of the palace. they will lead you to the meeting room when we're ready. goodbye."

velementov briskly (as briskly as a clearly hungover man can go) walks away, not even checking to see if what he said was alright with you. three guards come up to you, their faces and postures remaining stoic.

"ohhhhhkay. alright, this is fine!" anna chirps, clearly trying to hold herself and the two of you together. "we are just. alone in a strangers castle in a strange country. this is ok. i wont freak out."

"good, because there is nothing to freak out about." thomas reassures her, sounding more like hes trying to convince himself. "we expected this, so lets make the most of it, hm? its a beautiful palace, and we can explore it while each looking for some of peters advisors."

"so try to find the people who hopefully have common sense?" you question, eyeing the way the guards eyebrows raise in shock at your not so subtle disrespect.

"exactly." thomas agrees, the three of you agreeing before heading off in seperate directions of the russian castle.

what you see along your short journey is nothing short of shocking yet amusing. multiple couples unsuccessfully hiding in the shadows while having intercourse, drunk soldiers and children running through the halls, with parents and hungover residents looking on in annoyance.

eventually you pass two large open doors which you can see lead to a library. walking in you see its quite expansive, with practically no one inside.

(to be expected, you didn't think most of the people here could read a paragraph let alone complete a book.)

you walk inside and observe, walking through the aisles and touching the spines of the novels. most of it seems to be in russian, of course, but maybe there was an international section...

while thinking, your mind spaces out and is only brought back when the body of another knocks into yours, the books they were carrying falling to the floor.

"oh my gosh, im so sorry. i wasn't looking where i was headed, here let me help you with those," rushes from your mouth, quickly dropping to the floor to help pick up the books for them; A Guide To Russian History and The Insides of Russian Aristocracy.

"no, no, don't apologize. I wasn't looking where i was headed because i was reading this book about...nevermind." the stranger says before joining you on the floor before also trying to pick up their books.

its only after the stranger speaks and you see their pale, slender hand on top of yours that you look up to meet eyes, your e/c meeting piercing blue.

its a woman, and not just any woman but a gorgeous one. she has fair skin, smooth and with nearly no blemishes at all, surprising since most of the other members of the court you've passed at least had a tint to their cheeks whether it be from sickness, alcohol, or both.

she has a striking face, both angular yet soft. it makes her beauty both intimidating yet welcoming. and at this moment you don't know which one you feel.

the both of you still for a moment, observing the other for longer than what was most likely deemed polite. you were speechless until you noticed one of the most striking things about her - her naturally blonde hair. youve seen a few other women here who were blonde but you could tell they were wearing wigs. with no shame of course, it was a regular among members of court life nowadays. but hers had that growth and effortlessness that let you know it was all hers.

"you aren't from here, are you? im guessing western europe, maybe france, germany?" you suddenly ask, finding yourself intrigued with this beautiful stranger you've met in an otherwise empty library. her face lights up at your question, making you glad she didn't find it rude.

"yes, born and raised in germany, how could you tell?" her questions makes you raise your brow, looking from her eyes to her hair. she catches on and laughs, looking down in slight embarrassment. "right, sorry. silly question."

"it wasn't silly, don't worry. i just asked because i was curious why you don't look like the rest of the court members. are you visiting from your home?" you quickly reassure her, not liking the slightly sad look that appeared on her face when she called herself silly. she looked much better with a smile.

her brows slightly scrunch together, looking to the floor before back to you with a sure smile. "yes, im visiting for a while. sent to study the russian culture and all, trying to help with politics."

"another thing we have in common, and thank god for it. i swear i was so nervous about me and my party being the only foreigners here." you exclaim, resting your hands on the mystery woman's shoulders in excitement. "would you mind chatting with me and telling me what you've learned? im sure there's some things i can tell you as well."

her eyes are wide and her face is bright as she stares into your eyes, nodding along to answer your questions. its just when you realize your hands are still on her shoulders and when she reaches hers up to gently grab your elbows, yet again dropping the books in her hands. you both look at the fallen materials for a second before looking back to each other and giggling.

you had spent who knows how many hours talking with the blonde woman, who you'd come to know was named sophie, about subjects ranging from politics to your home countries to even your favorite foods. you found her point of view on things interesting, her positivity coming off a bit naive but refreshing. but beneath it you sense a bit of sadness.

"are you feeling alright?" your questions cuts her off from what she was saying. she was enthusing about how she misses the landscapes form her home, how when she looks out the palace windows she can feel bits of herself start to wither away just like the outside landscape. she says it so calmly that you cant help but ask the question.

in response shes quiet, staring at you like you just asked her is she preferred to eat chicken eggs or duck eggs for breakfast.

"jesus, when's the last time someone asked you that question?" you put a hand on her shoulder, your tone playful in the hope she wouldn't answer. but the look on her face gave you your answer.

"if im being honest...it's been quite a while. if i tell you this, will you promise to keep it secret?" she asks, her voice unsteady with the hesitance of telling a stranger the problems of her current life.

"cross my heart and hope to die." you dramatically cross your hands over your bust, smiling when she manages a laugh at your theatrics.

she sighs, putting her hands in her lap and closing her eyes. "i have a husband, back home. arranged marriage." her eyes peak open to look at you, and you hurry to fix the look on your face from one of disappointment to understanding. "i was so hopeful before the wedding, but then i met and moved in with him and it's nothing how i imagined it would be. he's nothing like i hoped for. and i know i now have a duty to my country and people but i only have one other person to voice my sadness and just...anger to. but it doesn't feel like enough. i feel like i need to do more to fix my life or i'll go insane."

at the end of her rant she lets out a long sigh, relaxing her shoulders and slumping back into the wall behind you. she looks at you for your reaction to see you smiling at her. "what could possibly be amusing right now?"

"nothing, nothing. it's not everyday you meet a beautiful monarch on the edge of killing her husband. well, i take that back." she rolls her eyes and gently smacks your arm at your jest.

"i just poured out feelings i've only told my most trusted servant and you're going to joke around with me?"

"i've found that during the most dire times, nothing makes me feel better than saying 'fuck all' and laughing."

she sits in silence, staring at you as she seems to think over your words. it feels like the two of you are drifting closer together, her blue eyes flicking from your eyes to lower to lower-

"yn! yn are you nearby?" the loud voice of anna from outside the library causes both of you to flinch and look to the doors, waiting with held breaths as the sounds of annas heels pass by. the sound of her crying out your name grows quieter, but you both know you have to depart soon.

"i suppose that means i have to go now," you groan, standing up and smoothing out the fabric of your dress as you look sophie. shes just looking at you with those big blue eyes of hers until she collects herself as well, "its time for me to see the emperor, i suppose. will i see you around the palace any time soon?"

"yes, you'll be seeing me around. at least i hope so." her gentle admission makes you smile, and she clasps her hands together in slight nervousness. "i don't have many friends here. its nice to talk to someone who understands."

you smile at each other for a few seconds more until the sound of anna's voice rings out in the halls again. wanting to stop her before she causes a ruckus, you sidestep sophie and leave the library quickly, heading towards your duties and leaving her behind in the library.

“where have you been? i've been looking for you all over this god-forsaken palace!” annas harsh whisper spits at you, the shorter woman grabbing your arm and yanking you towards her as she continues walking down one of the wide halls of the palace.

"im sure they heard you over in india, my dear friend," you tease, letting out a squeak when she pinches your arm, "i was just in the library and having a very interesting conversation with a young woman when-"

"dont even finish that sentence. i dont want to to know what you get up to in the shadows with young women." anna groans and stops walking when you get to a quaint but grandiose set of doors. she pushes them open to reveal a grand bedroom, fit with a small area to converse with others over tea and snacks, a wide desk near the window with your bags containing your papers and documents set beside it, and the back of the room contains a large bed and intricate designs on the bedframe and sheets.

“nice of him to give us a grand room after his grand absence.” you deadpan, nodding thanks to anna and flopping down on the chaise near the fireplace. you kick your feet up and let out a long groan, closing your eyes and resting your arm over your eyes.

“dont talk like that, I heard he has spies inside of the walls,” anna jokes, closing the chamber doors and striding to sit in the armchair next to you. “besides, we’ve been formally invited to dine with the emperor, and his wife tonight, along with some of the other important members of his court. this could be your chance to judge his character, see what he's like to plan how you’ll go about your proposals with him for trading.”

you groan louder, smiling over at anna’s burst of laughter. “i have the feeling he'll be too consumed in drinking himself silly and doing whatever else these russians do."

"well then, lets at least get you dressed to the nines so he'll feel completely embarrassed that he turned down the chance to speak to you earlier." anna gets up and moves to your bags, propping them open and pulling out a gown that's not too gaudy but just lavish enough for a dinner with an emperor.

you smile, already imagining the look on the emperors' face when he realizes what an idiot he was for turning you down.

so, it turns out that peter was a bigger idiot than you thought.

upon entering the dining hall you come to see that the room is still mostly empty, save for a few maids preparing the table for dinner and what looks to be the chef getting into a heated debate with another servant.

walking over, the pair seem to stop speaking instantly when they notice you, bowing over as a sign of respect and not moving until you ask them a question.

“hello, i’m princess y/n. i was told i was to dine with the emperor and company, am i too early?”

“n-no your highness, i believe the emperor is a tad bit busy at the moment. he should be joining you soon.” the servant tells you, stuttering over some of his words as he fixes his position to look at you while speaking.

anna quickly takes her place in front of you, clearly able to tell by the shift in your stance that your mood has quickly soured upon hearing that peter has the gall to do this again. shes right in the middle of explaining when noises from the kitchen cause her and the room to go silent. you're on the verge of asking what it was when it comes about again.

moaning.

very damn loud moaning.

if you weren't so furious you'd be laughing your ass off, and by the way anna’s posture goes rigid you can tell she's holding herself back from doing the same. the chef and servant look so red you wouldn't be surprised if they were the tomatoes that were on the menu. you got the feeling that the embarrassment was from you having to bear witness, and that they'd likely been through this before.

“i think…we are going to find our seats now.” you let out a long exhale from your nose and smooth off your dress, putting on an amused and polite smile.

you roughly grab anna’s arm and pull her to the end of one of the tables, you sit yourself down in a chair in the middle of one of the side tables and she sits in the one to your left.

“look, your highness, we can walk through the gardens, w-we can go for another roundabout this damn gaudy castle, but can we please not stay here and listen to russian lovemaking session? and you've got that scheming look in your eye that you know i hate-”

“we’re staying here.” you cut her off, your tone letting her know your say is final. she fake pouts and sits correctly in her seat, staring at the wall ahead of her as you both try to ignore the familiar sounds of skin meeting and the rampant onslaught of moaning and groaning.

it feels like the longest few minutes of your life. as the seconds tick by a few more people slowly start to enter, all wearing posh clothing and powdered wigs that make it seem like they'd walked right out of a cheaper version of france. but you remain polite, smile, and do the basic introductions when they come up to you. you notice how they all ignore the unmistakable sounds of ecstasy from the kitchen as well.

you have to press your lips in a thin line when thomas rushes into the room and sits in the other chair next to you, hurriedly giving his greetings to the other court members and turning to you. he raises his brow in confusion at your teasing look, then follows your eyesight to the timid orlo who had entered the room and had sat near the head table. thomas’s face flushes when he turns back to you.

“stop it, nothing happened,” he whispers,” we discussed what's going to be addressed at your meeting with peter.”

your brow twitches.

“i think emperor peter has his hands full with other responsibilities.”

thomas’s mouth opens to ask you to elaborate when an “oh god, yes!” booms from the kitchen. anna snorts as his face shows mass embarrassment.

“he did tell us russians were very different, y/n.” anna jokes, butting her head from your side to look directly at thomas. “they’re crass, rude, and what was it, T? oh yes, vulgar.”

you’re on the brink of closing your eyes and banging your head on the table when the site of a familiar mop of bright blonde hair grabs your attention and nearly makes you sit straight up from your seat. you don't even hear the sound of your friends asking what the matter is, all you can hear is the sound of your heart beating erratically. it’d scare you half to death if you weren't so excited.

she makes eye contact with you and you smile, nodding politely. she nods back, looking on edge as she moves farther into the room.

“that's the woman i was talking to earlier,” you say, turning your head towards anna. she nods and smiles, and you decide not to acknowledge how it's the you've got another crush don't you bitch smile.

“she’s pretty.” anna whispers.

“she’s sophie.” you tell her.

“she’s princess catherine.” thomas butts in.

what.

you don't get the chance to question him when a man burst through the doors of the hall, his clothes in disarray and his hair even more so.

peter.

his beady blue eyes connect with yours, the man smiling as he would at an old friend and clapping his hands before raising them above his head.

“ah! your highness! welcome to the palace, i hope you've found your stay comfortable so far.” he greets you too little too late, getting distracted halfway through his sentence as a brunette woman in the same state of dishevelment, the pair smiling at each other as she passes to sit next to another man, his smile strained as she presses a kiss to his cheek.

“it’s certainly been memorable so far, your majesty,” you answer, your eyes following him as he moves next to soph-catherine, whose eyes dart between you and her apparent husband. she sits down, seeming to decide there’s no point in making eye contact as she stares at the china on the table.

“well, i hope during your stay you find many more things to remember. boris! bring us our food!” peter shouts, clapping his hands together as he turns toward the kitchen. it's a struggle to keep a courteous smile on your face.

the dinner is odd, to say the least. throughout most of it, peter is boasting about himself and his accomplishments, which honestly don't sound like anything important to you and more like thing your child brother was worrying about the last time you saw him. but he wasn't completely an idiot. just mostly.

the other half of your amusement comes from your new blonde friend. over the course of the dinner she continues to avoid you like the plague, only joining in conversation with you when prompted by peter. you aren't a fool, you know most diplomatic marriages are purely that, but you can help but notice the way she looks at him when he speaks. it's not just fatigue or distaste, its something more. something sharper.

when you and the other nobles have finished eating peter insists on moving the festivities to a parlor room, giving you some semblance of hope for a normal evening. which was quickly thwarted by the dancers and loud music and even more alcohol. its not all bad though, you get to see anna convince thomas to drink some hard liquor, resulting in him spouting from a chair about the history of the wood it was made from.

while laughing you notice from the corner of your eye catherine whisper something to one of the guards near the door before rushing out. looking around you, you see how no one seems to take much notice to the empress’s quick disappearance, so you simply stand up and walk out the door as well.

you underestimate how quickly the empress can walk, only able to catch glimpses of her skirts as she darts around hallway corners. after a few minutes of trailing her you find yourself in the palace gardens, only getting a few seconds to admire the hedges. catherine starts to slow down to catch a breather and you can faintly hear her muttering something to herself before you come up behind her.

“going for a little late night stroll, your majesty?” you question, keeping a cool smile when she turns around and looks at you like a startled doe.

“y/n, i mean, your highness, i didn't take you for a person who admires gardens.”

“and i didn't take you for someone to lie so easily, but i guess today is the day for surprises.”

you both go silent at your rebuttal, only the sounds of crickets in the garden and the faint noise of the still partying emperor in the distance being heard.

“i apologize, your majesty,” you sigh, remembering that you're here to make peace with the Russian and getting catty with them isn't the best idea. “i didn't mean to be rude. I'm just upset that you lied to me about who you were when i made it very clear who i was.”

catherine sighs as well, wringing her hands together as she steps closer yo you. “im sorry as well. for lying to you and avoiding you. its just that…you’re different than the other people around here.”

“i hadn't noticed. was it my complexion or my soberness?” you joke, laughing along with the empress when she giggles.

“more than that, you listened to me.”

the simple sentence felt like a light punch to the gut. it reminds you of the countless times you would sneak away to the village from your palace, conversing with the people in the market so you could have a normal conversation without someone sucking up to you. how you’d even settle for someone telling you off for bumping into their shoulders was appreciated because it was so real. you had to admit you had even found some joy and amusement in peter’s complete disregard for your visitation.

“i understand. truly, i do.” you mimic her previous actions and step closer, the distance between the two of you only about a few feet at this point. you take the chance to take her in more. they fly away hairs that frame her face, the few freckles that dust across her nose, and the softness of her lips…

she starts speaking again, causing you to compose yourself. slightly.

“thank god. it was just that as soon as you started talking to me like a human being i couldn't get enough of it.” she blurts, her lips pursing at the implications of what she said.

“its alright, i felt the same. i still do. I'm up for another chat as we walk if you are.”

she smiles. “i think i’ll take you up on that offer.”

the two of you talk about everything and nothing as you walk, with you teasing her for her rather foolish husband and her laughing along and agreeing. she tells you how often she’s found herself sick of him these past few weeks and that darkness returns to her eyes.

“i mean I've truly met some incompetent leaders but your husband truly takes the cake,” you chuckle as you slightly kick away a pebble. “im surprised no ones tried to overthrow him at this point.”

you keep walking for a few more steps before you notice catherine has stopped behind you, frozen in place. her face is conflicted, her lips in a pout and creases forming between her brows. you gently call her name and are shocked at the sudden intensity behind her eyes. even more so when her head darts to look around in all directions before she rushes to you and pulls you behind a bush and holds you by your shoulders.

“if i tell you something, something that could change you life, do you promise to keep it between us?”

“yes of course,” you answer, and you'd be slightly embarrassed at the speed of your answer if your brain wasn't preoccupied with her closeness.

“if i told you that someone was planning to revolt against peter, what would you say? honestly?”

“that it seems rather overdue at this point.”

her eyes scan your face, looking for something before she lets out a breath. “im planning a coup. against peter.”

you don't reply. you simply look at her, waiting for the crack of a smile or an eye roll or anything she didn't mean what she just said. but it doesn't come.

“you’re quite serious?” you ask.

“deadly. me, my handmaiden, and one of his advisors have been talking about it. we should have one of the generals on our side shortly and i thought with your support as well-”

“my support? catherine as much as i don't think that man should be on the throne, you do realize if this fails i could be targeted and killed?”

“we won't fail,” she states and says it with such assurance you find yourself fully believing her.

“well, how am i supposed to help from all the way in my country? it doesn't seem like peter is much interested in an alliance so me giving you resources isn't exactly on the table.”

“leave that to me. he’s done some horrible things to me in the last few weeks so if i ask for this as a gift i’m sure he’ll accept.” she tells, her grip on your shoulders steady as she gives you a bright smile.

you grin. “you really are something extraordinary, empress catherine.”

“sophie. you can call me sophie.”

her words are no more than a whisper, and its silent yet again. your eyes quickly look from her eyes to her lips to back, and you catch her doing the same. her head starts to lean in, and you slowly start to do the same until her lips graze yours-

“your majesty? catherine where are you?”

its almost violent the way you pull apart from each other, your respective hands quickly smoothing out your clothes to make sure you look presentable. when you finish your eyes look at each other, and she still has that dark look in hers with an added dash of a hunger you know all too well.

“catherine? are you over here-there you are. I've been looking everywhere for you.” orlo comes from around the corner, looking exasperated as he rests his hands on his hips. when he notices you however he resumes an appropriate posture. “your highness, im terribly sorry that i didn't see you. catherine, i will talk to you later-”

“its alright, orlo. i told her and she’s agreed to join us.”

“you what?”

the emperor's discussion room is wide and bright, the sun shining in the windows and creating a warm feeling. it could be because your friends are on both sides of you, or because catherine is sitting beside peter with a barely concealed look of excitement on her face.

“princess y/n! i apologize for yesterday. i was very busy, as you could see.” peter clasps his hands together and smiles at you like you understand his excuses.

“all is well, your majesty. i know that certain pleasures can distract us from our responsibilities. i don't mind. is there a reason you called me here?”

his eyes squint. “why yes. there is. i would like to officially form an alliance with genovia immediately. my wife here was telling me about your encounters yesterday and how you seem like a more than perfect ally.”

you and catherine share a look.

“where do i sign?”

its a rather quick process to sign a piece of paper that changes history, and when its over things feel different. permanent. peter gives you a handshake before departing, just leaving catherine. she warily opens her arms for a hug, and you envelop her in your arms.

“welcome to the winning side of history,” she whispers in your ear, and you can help the excitement that rushes through you.

#the great #the great show #the great hulu #catherine the great x reader #catherine x reader #peter iii of russia #orlo #miriam #the great x reader

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dearlawdimasimp · 2 years

Text

As universes collides

Pairings: Moon Knight system(Marc/Steven/Jake) x sorcerer!Reader x Khonshu

Word count: holee shit its 9k words people💀

Warnings: grammar, cussing, !SPOILERS FOR MoM!, possibly inaccurate depictions of DID(please tell me in the comments if i did so that i can edit this), possibly wrong Spanish words used(again please correct me in the comments), possibly ooc marvel characters, NOT BETA READ, lengthy fic(if i missed any please let me know!!)

Summary: Hey, just re-read your stories with Sorcerer!Reader with the Moon Bois and Khonshu, I absolutely love them! So I saw you were looking for ideas, and I remembered an idea I had a while back when MoM came out regarding this exact same pairing. If you’re willing to write it that is.

So regarding Wanda’s attack on Kamar-taj, the reader is called to defend the temple. The reader prepares to leave, and while trying to explain what’s happening to the boys, mentions the Scarlet Witch. Now, lets assume Khonshu knows a little about the Scarlet Witch and her chaos magic. So when the reader tells them that they're going to be defending the temple against her, he tells her not to go, in fear that they will die. The reader of course declines his request, and Marc/Steven/Jake get into an argument with the reader about going (“the world and the multiverse are in danger” blah blah blah “you shouldn’t have to risk your life” blah blah blah “there’s a child’s life on the line” blah blah blah- you get it). Long story short, the reader ends up going after the argument (or however you want it to end up). In the end, the reader (hopefully) survives, whether it surviving in the rubble, or traveling with Strange and America through the multiverse. And they reunite with Marc/Steven/Jake and Khonshu.

Let me know what you think about this and if you’re willing to write it. Hopefully it gave you some inspiration!

A/N: hi hello sorry for the long wait but the fic is finally here!! hope you guys love this and i hope this meets @jupitersmoon167 and everybody else's expectations😥 i used dear jupiter's idea and added my own twist to it! hope you guys love this just as much as i do🤧💞if things aren't exactly the same with the movie, im so sorry-i wrote this based on what i remembered💞GIFS USED NOT MINE

Something shifted.

A shiver ran through your spine, through your whole body.

You inhale sharply, brows furrowing at the uneasy feeling.

"You felt it too, dearest?"

Asked your human sized moon god beside you, who's wearing a white polo rolled up to his elbow and white slacks, his arm laying across your now tense shoulder. You feel him gently squeeze you, coaxing you to relax your tight muscles.

You are currently in the Moon boys' flat, watching a movie to relax since today was a time where you and all of the system have their day off on the same day, with all three of them co-existing with you and a human sized Khonshu.

They are currently in separate bodies, thanks to a spell that allowed them to be out of the headspace for a period of time, all wearing comfy home clothes, and are now looking at you too. Worry, curiosity, and confusion met your troubled gaze.

"We– we felt it too…Like, something.. something bad."

Steven, who's wearing his blue sweatshirt and gray pjs, voices out his and his alters' thoughts, Marc– who's wearing his blue t-shirt and pants– nods once and looks at Jake–who's wearing his white long sleeves and black pjs– who also nods, eyes full of thoughts as he keeps his firm yet gentle gaze on you, confirming Steven's statement.

You look up to Khonshu, who stood up from his seat on the couch and looked out the window.

"Should.. should we be worried–"

His question dies on his tongue as a portal opens in the middle of your room. You're quick to your feet and change into your sorcerer robes as you walk in front of the moon knight system and towards the opening portal, knowing who might be behind it.. and their purpose.

The trio stood up as they watched an Asian man walk through the sparkling circle. Jake quickly puts himself in front of his alters, ready to protect in case anyone thinks of hurting them.

"We need your help, Master," Wong utters your name breathlessly, "I'm sorry for interrupting your day off but, the Scarlet Witch, is planning to attack Kamar-taj and we are in dire need of every single sorcerer to protect it." The portal closes behind him.

Before you are able to utter a single word, Khonshu repeats,

"The Scarlet Witch?"

A thunderous boom echoing in the room, his tone all but gentle, and crosses the room to stand by your side, now looming down on you and Wong as he returns to his godly size, his clothes now shifted back to gauzed wrappings.

"The wielder of Chaos Magic?"

You tilt your head up to him, "You know them?" You glance at the Sorcerer Supreme, who was not a single bit intimidated by the god's presence (you figured he wouldn't be as this man might've seen worse than a tall, bird skull headed god so it wasn't a surprise to you), who nods to answer Khonshu's question.

The god's head moves to you as he looks at you, his thoughts undecipherable to you. His body language was rigid, which could either mean he doesn't trust the sorcerer in front of you or something else entirely different.

You look back to his hollowed sockets as you wait for his answer.

He bobs his head and kneels in one knee to be on your eye level, "I know little but I know enough. You are not going to face her, little sorcerer."

Ah, so it was something else entirely different.

Even though his tone suggests no room for argument, you huff at his demands in disbelief.

"Khonshu, the Sorcerer Supreme needs every single sorcerer to be present, which means that this Scarlet Witch is very dangerous and is a danger to our wo–"

"Which should give you more reason not to go! It is unsafe! They are dangerous, like you've said. Let the others handle it!"

You were about to argue back but a question pops up into your head, you turn to Wong, "Wait– why is this.. quote unquote Scarlet Witch attacking the Kamar-taj in the first place?"

You hear the god sigh beside you and mumble, "You do not need that information–"

"A child that has the power to traverse across universes is in the temple and the Scarlet Witch intends to take her power all to herself." Wong answers, his eyes pleading to you as he spoke.

Your eyebrows shot up in worry, "No–" a British voice spoke behind you in slight tremor.

The sorcerer supreme puts his hand on your shoulder.

"Please, pick your choice wisely. We'll be waiting for you."

You place your hand above his and nod, he gives you a tight smile as he removes his hand. He glances at the trio behind you and bids them goodbye with a bow of his head, as well as to the Egyptian moon god. He opens a portal and enters it, with an expecting glance of his shoulder the bright orange circle closes with a sharp hush.

A heavy silence falls in the flat.

A click of a tongue breaks it and Marc speaks, "Right, no. The bird is right. No way in hell you are going to K- Kamar- Kamar.. tash–"

You heard Khonshu huff at the name Marc had called him and rise from his kneeling position.

"Kamar-Taj." "Kamar-Taj" Steven and Khonshu correct him.

"Yes, that- thank you Steven, Khonshu-"

"Marc, a child's life is in danger!" You say his name in exasperation as you step one foot to the front, "Our universe and other universes are in danger! I can't just let this witch do–"

"Mi muñeca, por favor," Jake intervenes, his face covered by his hand as he pinches the bridge of his nose, "There are cientos de otros magos, lots of other sorcerers, around the world, ¿sî?" He drops his hand with a sigh.

You nod, "Yes! But–"

"Then you, our amado hechicero, don't need to be there." The mustached Latino reaches out to your hand and grasps it, squeezing it lightly as his eyes desperately look around your face and cups it with his other hand, heavy it lays on your cheek as he whispers, "Por favor, mi amor."

"Please, love. Think about it." Steven speaks up behind Jake, worry also etched on his face as he approaches the two of you. "If Khonshu, a god who doesn't think twice in committing violence, does not want you to fight then I'd also have to say no on this one. We can't risk losing you, darling.." His voice cracks a little, the thought of not being able to see you again is possibly plaguing his mind.

Tears well up on your eyes as you glance back and forth between Jake and Steven then to Marc, whose eyes are all but soft as he had already made up his decision.

You sigh and lean to Jake's hand that is on your cheek, you take it from your face and kiss his palm. You turn to your Stevie and offer your hand to him, to which he hastily holds, and gently pull him to you. He lets you. Jake removes his hand from your cheek to let Steven wrap his arms around you, he's muttering pleas in your ear as you plant a long kiss on his temple.

"So you're not going, sweetheart?"

You look up to your other boyfriend who is now looking a little relieved and hopeful, slowly approaching you three with a hopeful gaze. You glance up to your godly lover, who's been silently waiting as he watches you interact with your human boyfriends, leaning against a bookshelf with arms crossed.

You turn your gaze to Marc, who's looking at you expectantly, you give a last kiss on Steven's cheek before letting go of the Brit and approached the American. You smile tearfully as you hold his face with your palm, his stubble rough under your skin. Standing on your tip-toes, you kiss his cheek gingerly.

Jake, coming to an understanding of your whole motive, mutters hoarsely, "No.."

The other people in the room seemed to understand what you were trying to do and they all simultaneously spoke out their disagreement.

"No, baby– Come on!" "Absolutely not!" "Darling, please no."

You lower yourself back on the floor and look up to Marc, his brows are raised in the middle as he grasps your wrist as he tries to keep you in place.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, to him and to all of your lovers, a lone tear escaping your eyes as you caress his cheekbones with your thumbs.

Khonshu briskly walks towards you, planning to stop your plans but you were quick.

You close your eyes and let the flow of magic surrounding the flat disappear.

Marc's hands left your wrists and his stubbled jaw sliding away from your palms, you opened your eyes to see him stumbling back and away from you, the surge of magic when his alters returned back to their headspace possibly left him disoriented.

You feel a cool breeze go down past your shoulder. Looking over you see Khonshu, he's back to his ghost-like state, unable to interact with anything surrounding him.

He looks up at you, you feel his and Marc's(and possibly the rest of the system's) burning glare drilling into your skull.

You hold back a sob.

"This is for all of you, my loves. Please, I hope you understand."

You look back and forth to Marc and Khonshu, who's regaining his balance and the latter desperately trying to get a hold of you as he yells for you to stop, even though he knows with this form he won't be able to do so he still continues to reach out to your form.

You open a portal to the temple, with a sharp intake of breath you quickly enter it. Tears continue to fall down your cheek, a smile that doesn't hold any joy pulls your lips as you croak out, "I'll see you around, my boys. This isn't a goodbye."

You immediately let the portal close before any of them crossed it. The last thing you saw was Marc, with Jake and Steven possibly co-fronting with him, hastily running to the orange circle as Khonshu fell on his knees, seemingly defeated.

I promise.

~🌑~

Falling through different realities, with one of them being a world that is made up of paint, as you try to keep a powerful kid away from a power hungry witch in a star shaped portal was definitely not on your bucket list.

But here you are, thrown into a new world where everything is unfamiliar and very green.

"You two… saved me.." Chavez says between her breaths as you and Strange try to regain yours.

"I hope so.." The cloaked man groans as he stands up, while you cover your mouth and run to the nearest corner as you feel bile shot up to your throat, spilling the food you had earlier this morning.

You hear America sheepishly apologize, "It's a normal reaction..! Just.. let it all out.."

You give her a thumbs up, your guts continue to spill out.

You hear the teen ask if the other sorcerer have had experience with multiversal travelling, the man in question smugly answers that they have, making you scoff at his lie as you wipe your mouth with your sleeve.

You were about to tell Chavez the truth but Stephen's upset stomach beat you to it.

"You were saying, Strange?" You jest as you walk towards the duo, groaning at the after taste on your tongue after that spill fest.

"Shut up–"

You hum low in your throat as you look around you, tuning out Stephen's vomiting noises because if you won't you might vomit again so instead you survey your surroundings properly.

"What is this place? A utopic version of our universe??"

You let the question hang in the air as you walk over to the ledge, looking down at the busy streets with wonder and curiosity.

"It seems so.." America answers behind you.

~🌒~

"They go on red?" Asks the baffled former Sorcerer Supreme beside the teen.

"Amazing observation." You quip as you wearily look around, Jake and Marc's tendency to look for any signs of danger once in an unfamiliar setting rubbing off on you.

With yours and Stephen's sling ring lost, and with Chavez struggling to control her power, you were left with finding help in this universe's Stephen and you. Since apparently there is only one Chavez in the multiverse.

"Rule number one of multiversal travel. You don't know anything."

Stephen huffs at your comment and waits for the traffic light to turn green, and crosses the street, you follow alongside him.

"Right, so what's rule number two–"

You feel the hairs on your nape stand up, someone is watching you. You look around with furrowed brows, trying to pinpoint where and who it's coming from.

But Strange's tug on your elbow made you stop your hunt, "Where is she?" the sorcerer worriedly asks and you could only stare at him in confusion, blinking your eyes, you were about to answer his question with another question but then you realize who he's talking about.

You look around you and find that the girl you two are supposed to protect is missing beside you. Your breathing quickens as the worst possible scenarios run through your mind until a hand lays on your shoulder.

You turn to see the girl herself with a food on hand, you roughly exhale through your mouth as you rub your face with your hand.

"Rule number two, find food. Preferably pizza. Pizza balls!"

Pizza.. balls? What? You stare the rolled up pizza on the red bowl, huh, never thought that would be a thing. But then again, everyone in this world is wearing clothes in varying shades of black and white only so you really should have expected less (not like you don't like the color, it's just.. a little unsettling considering the colorful stores and surroundings, and it's new to you).

"How'd you pay for that?"

"It's free–"

You catch up beside the girl, "Free? There's free food here?"

"Well, food's free in most universes actually." She states with a shrug, "It's more of how you guys pay for it."

Your lips form an 'o' as you nod, taking in the interesting information, "That's cool."

"Yea–"

"Hey! You didn't pay for that!"

You three stop in your tracks and face the old man, who seems to be the seller of the pizza rolls.

"Crap.." Muttered the teen, "Maybe it's not free here.."

You gave the teen an exasperated look, while she returns it with an innocent one as she munches on the unpaid food.

"Relax, Mr. "Papap", she's just a kid-"

"Relax yourself there, Doctor Strange." Snides the old man with a slight chuckle as if mocking the sorcerer while he reaches for the cloak of Levitation. "Where'd you get this cape from anyway–"

"It's not a cape-"

"It's a cloak actually," you sigh and step up to the old man. "How about you let him go-"

"Huh, feels authentic–" Mr. "Papa"? Papap? comments as he examines the fabric.

"I'll pay for it, okay, just, let my friend go–" You were reaching for your wallet when you felt his hand grasp your robes tightly.

A rush of harsh wind suddenly sweeps the sidewalk you are on, forcing the man holding you to release your clothes to cover his face from the sudden gust.

You shiver at the breeze. It felt familiar…

"You two are thieves! You two took this from the Strange museum, didn't cha?"

"Strange Museum?"

"You two are takers!" The man snatches the mustard from his stand, "Why don't you take some of thi-"

Needless to say, that man is going to continuously beat himself up for the next three weeks.

"What happened to Rule number one, hm?" You tease the girl as you lightly bump your shoulder to hers, while resuming your trek to find this world's Dr. Strange.

America could only roll her eyes at your jest as she silently chuckled while Stephen chortled under his breath.

~🌓~

Lucky for you, you don't drink tea.

Unluckily for you, you were bribed with a cold chocolate drink.

Which led to you and your party of three encased in a strong glass– carbonated glass, was it? You weren't really listening.

You have opted on focusing on your breathing instead, enclosed spaces and you are not exactly besties.

America, seeming to have noticed your struggle, tries to get Stephen and Christine's attention. But you call out to her, stopping her actions, "It's– it's okay kid. Let them have their moment. I'll be fine."

Your voice wobbles as you swallow your saliva. Inhale, exhale.

Anything else seems to be muddled as you keep your focus on your breathing.

Inhale, exhale.

A hiss of the opening of your sealed doors interrupts your meditation short. You look around only to see… are those ultron bots?! Behind the sorcerer that poisoned you.

You scowl at him as you are pulled out of the glass cage. You struggled on their grip and ready to strike but Stephen held your arm, stopping you from whatever you were planning to do.

You look up to him, his brows low in worry as he asks, "Are you okay?"

Knowing you were on the verge of a panic attack just a minute ago, there should be no point in lying, but you are in an enemy's hold. So you nod your head, looking away from the concerned greyish-green eyes and let the bots tug you away from the blue-robbed sorcerer.

You cast a glance at America, "We'll be back, don't worry." You comfort her as much as you can.

The teen could do nothing but nod, pressing her palms flat on the glass as she watches you and Stephen being dragged away from the holding room, hope and dread flashing on her face.

~🌔~

Okay, don't mess with the silent guy then.

You blink away the images presented in your mind, cautiously bouncing your gaze from member to member of this.. Illuminati council.

Confusion draws your brows taut, "Okay– so if this is all about him then why the fuck am I here?"

"Etiquette, huh?"

You glare at Stephen, his low-blow of a jest referencing your comments to his sassy answers to the council earlier.

"This is not all about him," The bald man on the high-tech wheelchair roughly says your name, "as we've stated a while ago, if you were listening–"

Oh yeah, you totally weren't.

"The more you spend time in our universe, the more you endanger your and our home."

Your eyebrows twitch up in understanding.

"But, it is also because you, my dear, have also made a significant impact on this universe. Namely, communication to other worldly beings in this universe."

A new set of events is once again transferred and played in your mind, while you and Stephen watch it play out like a movie.

"Your version of yourself here had a beautiful union with the God of the Moon from the Egyptian Pantheon and his avatar. It paved the way to intergalactic partnerships, both in business as well as, yes, in romantic context."

You watch in awe as you see yourself, dressed in a sparkling, long sleeve, sweetheart neckline, white dress that dragged behind you walked down the aisle.

With your, no, other you's Moon boys, all in separate bodies wearing white suits that are accented with black in different styles for each of them, and your–their–god in his white suited glory, standing beside the trio in his human size, all watching you with happy tears(except the bird skull headed being, but hey, who knows, maybe the pigeon is crying buckets of unseeable tears.)

The scene calls your tears to resurface once more–could today be any more emotional!!– as you remember how you left your Marc, Steven, Jake and Khonshu in your own universe.

The scene shifts again, this time, different corporations, businesses and weddings play out like pages being flipped quickly. Moments of those events cramped in a single minute before it halts.

Another prestigious event that called for a union between realms. The species that is uniting with this universe's human council is unfamiliar to you. They were, well, otherworldly in nature with their varrying skin color palette and average size.

"All was going well, until–"

A loud bang! rang throughout the area, startling you and your sorcerer friend who's been quiet the whole time.

You look around amidst the running and panicking crowd, who was shot? Why did someone shoot? What-

Questions that ran through your mind disperse by your loud gasp. You see yourself being cradled in the arms of other you's spouse while their godly lover made an unprecedented red solar eclipse, commanding the winds to havoc the place as he roars in rage.

Your other self being cradled by the Moon Knight system, whose head is blown to bits.

"– a horrible accident happened."

Tears now freely stream down your cheeks as you kneel in place.

Seeing how your lovers both human and god, weep and mourn for you. How they grasped your coffin so tightly and snapped at the pallbearers trying to do their job, squeezes your heart. You never ever ever want to see them in pain. Especially if you're the one inflicting it.

A grating noise low on your throat goes past your trembling lips as you try to inhale air back into your system, your hand immediately flying up to not let another sound escape from your mouth.

You didn't know when you had stopped breathing but your lack of oxygen has made you a heaving mess on the gray tiled floor.

"Stop. Stop! Come on, this is hurting them!!"

The movie fades away like uncovering a treasure that was buried deep under the sand, dusting away the illusion to reveal the reality.

"Breathe for me," You hear a baritone voice say your name above you as you feel yourself being wrapped around one's arms and something on the top of your head.

You take deep breaths but every time you an ugly sob squeaks out your throat.

"It's okay. They're well in our universe. They're probably waiting for your return and you will return to them safely."

As the baritone voiced fella keeps on comforting you, another voice speaks up,

"This led to lots of series of events, mainly, our Khonshu, Marc, Steven and Jake, hunting down who shot our very own version of you." A feminine yet firm voice.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Another female voice speaks, this time British in accent,

"And, their hunt wasn't entirely… reasonable. They killed every single person who they suspected, even when they were not guilty. This forced us to take action and…"

Breathe in…

Swallowing, you slowly leave Stephen's comforting embrace, who you've just realized is the baritoned fella.

"And what?" You breathe out through your trembling lips as you peered at the Illuminati people through the blur of your tears.

"We have to imprison them to ensure the safety of the people."

You glance over to the far left, the man sitting there has answered your question in a hushed manner but still loud enough for you to hear.

"This–" Breathe in, breathe out. "This did not answer my question a while ago. Why am I here?!"

"Because they've escaped the moment you two arrived."

Your glare softens, before morphing into something horrified as you come into a realization.

"You've made me a bait." You whisper to the air, hastily standing up to your feet–

"It is for everyone's–"

Sound alarms blast through the speakers, the building shakes and vibrates as something, or someone breaks into the facility.

The weight of everything comes back to you, like a splash of a cold bucket of water.

Wanda. Scarlet Witch. The kid!!

You watch the live footage of the former avenger tearing through the army of robots that tried to hold her back from reaching the core of the facility, either dismantling them or blasting them into nothing.

The orders of Captain Carter fell on deaf ears as you kept your eyes on the static feed, somehow everything seemed to be silent and you could only hear your breathing, even as the facility alarm blairs around the room

Breathe in… Breathe out.

A call of your name and Stephen's made you turn your attention back to the present.

"When you escape this chamber, you must find America Chavez, and you, my dear." The professor gestures to you, "You must find your spouses, bring them to where you would deem them to be safe and… away from taking more innocent lives."

"For short, sealing them behind bars." You rasp out, bitterness leaves your dry lips as you blankly stare at the bald man in a wheelchair.

"If you'd like." Was his only statement, disregarding the Sorcerer Supreme protests and your perplexed glare as he wheels himself out of the room, leaving you, Stephen Strange and Mordo in the room.

You walk to the door, Ignoring Mordo's warnings. You press your palms flat on its surface.

You glance down at your cuffs. If only you were not bound you could blast this fucker open and be on your pursuit in finding your– well, your other self's but also technically your– lovers.

You groan in defeat as you knock your forehead on the barrier with a small thump. With a sigh you glance back to the two, who's in a heated argument. About what, you know nothing of.

Your eyes scan the room, maybe there's another way out.

A loud cry interrupts your thinking session–it was getting nowhere anyways–as Mordo jumps from the elevated slab with a sword in hand. You look down to Stephen, who only winked at your way–the sly bastard–before blocking the pissed sorcerer's attack with his cuffs.

Oh.

You let them spar, watching on the sidelines as you wait for the perfect time to interfere.

When Stephen gets knocked back to the wall, you take the chance and run towards Mordo, using your momentum you slam him to the wall and knock your head to his, effectively breaking his nose.

You hiss at the pain starting to form on your forehead. A swing from your opponent's sword nearly cuts your face off but you were quick to back away and block the other slash of Mordo's sword with your cuffs, copying Dr. Strange's previous moves just a few moments ago, successfully breaking you free from your restraints.

Mordo realizes this and he looks up at you wide eyed,

"Checkmate, bitch."

~🌕~

Running down the halls of this blandly painted place as you try to find your way back to America, you hear Stephen call out to you.

"What!?" You breathlessly questioned the sorcerer who's catching up behind you.

"Shouldn't you be finding your–well other you's–spouse..?" He stops your running as he holds your elbow.

The same draft that disturbed the sidewalk awhile ago permeates the empty hallway.

"I don't need to. I was only trying to find you a way out before I go." You said softly to the baritoned man.

"Go. Find America. I'll catch up to you– Don't worry about me." You cut off his unsaid concerned question.

"I'm in safe hands." You smiled up at Stephen and tapped the back of his hand that held you, "I'll be there before you know it."

He nods and gives a last scan around the hallway and you, before sprinting to find the teen.

The wind, seeming to be stronger now than before, pushes you to the hallway opposite to where Strange ran into. Abiding to its request you scurry down the hallway. You were suddenly pushed behind a pillar, expecting impact, you yelped and covered your face with both of your arms.

But the pain didn't come.

Instead, you were met with a soft embrace.

Startled at the stranger's boldness, you tried to push them away from you but a familiar, yet raspy, voice made you freeze.

"Hey, it's okay baby. It's okay, it's me, it's us."

You look up and see the face of your human lovers, only that.. it wasn't them. They looked… malnourished.. Familiar dark eyes who looked like they haven't had a moment to have a small nap glances back to you, his stubble now grown into a full beard peppered with white hairs as well as his curls, now long and is hastily pulled into a half ponytail. He's wearing a greyish white long sleeve and pants, right..they escaped from prison at your arrival.

"You.. you do know I'm not–"

"Yes, love, we know but–" Steven's soft and tearful gaze holds yours, his hands clambers up to your face as he took a sharp breath in, "–we," He swallows "–we couldn't waste the chance to see you again, darling–" His croaky voice is cut off by a sob and pulls you to a crushing hug.

You let him hug you like there's no tomorrow, wrapping your arms around his neck, you turn your head and plant a longing kiss on his temple.

The action made the man's knees give out, a heart-wrenching sob loud on your ears as you let him pull you down with him.

Curses and prayers in Spanish break the atmosphere, you let out a wet chuckle, missing your own moon boys as you hold their other version in your arms.

"Nuestro querido hechicero, te echamos mucho de menos." The Latino's trembling voice and vice grip on your robes had you in tears–again–now too.

You sniffle, you look around the room and notice that you all are in some kind of an abandoned chamber of the building. You didn't examine much more of it as you closed your eyes, letting you and them have their moment.

Another rush of wind blows your form, you open your eyes to see Khonshu, standing behind his avatar in his godly gauzed glory.

"Khon.."

"Beloved.."

The god falls to his knees and he places his hand on the side of your face.

"Why are you here? Did our other version fail to do their job? To protect you from all harm?"

The god growled as he asked, you can hear the wrappings on his other hand grow taut and splinter as he grips his staff tightly. The man gingerly pulls you away from him but keeps his hands on your sides, letting the rough hand of the god slide away from your face.

You chuckle, lacking any mirth, as you look between the two, "More like I succeeded in being an asshole." You scrunch your nose as you sniffle, rubbing it with the knuckle of your forefinger and glance down to your lap.

"I… may or may not have removed a spell–spells–that helps them to communicate with me properly. I uh.. removed it at the last second so that they'd be… stupefied of the situation.. and give me time to… leave them.."

You quietly explained to them, holding your gaze down on your fingers as you played with it, rubbing and squeezing each phalange to distract yourself from your current predicament.

His hands left your side as he places it on top of yours, stopping you, and engulfs it with his large, calloused ones.

"You've always liked to put yourself in front of danger, sweetheart."

Marc croakily comments, you can hear his smile through his worn out voice. You laugh a little, remembering your Marc's same use of phrase when you came home with cuts and bruises.

"Which sadly led us to this predicament.." Khonshu adds with a mournful sigh, moving to your side and also places his inhumanly large hands below yours, cupping it and squeezing gingerly.

That made you look up, Marc meets your thoughtful yet confused gaze.

"What do you mean?" You inquire, tilting your head slightly to the side in curiosity.

This salt and pepper look that time has given them, is making things inside you do flips but obviously now's not the time to ogle.

"You save me–us–from that blast, darling."

Oh….oh

We were supposed to be the target, and.. well.. I think you know the rest…"

Steven casts his puffy eyes down, possibly reminiscing the moment you–their you–died.

You reach out to his face, his beard tickling your palms as you thumb his cheekbones. "Hey–" Your sentence halts at the shaking of the building.

Snapping you back to what you're supposed to be doing, you glance back and forth between them as you swallow.

Marc– wait, that gaze–Jake nods and Khonshu releases your hand. They stand up from their position, "You must go now, beloved. I may have been able to stop time for a minute, any longer could have caused an incursion."

He did what– Incusrs–oh shit.

"Okay, amazing–the stopping time thing I mean–" you grunt as you let them pull you up from the floor, "–uncool to the incursion part." You sniffle again as you dust your knees off.

You hear the Latino's distinct chortle making you smirk, your bad humor never fails to make them laugh, even in a different universe, good to know. You smile at that. Another shake disturbs the moment.

You groan internally.

You look around the room as you try to find the exit, but Jake beats you to it. He grasps your hand, his black and white tactical suit–the very same your own Jake uses–engulfs his form as he pulls you and runs to the wall across the room.

You close your eyes bracing for impact, "You don't trust us, ¿mí amor?" Jake's modulated teasing coaxes you to open them and see that you are now on an entirely different side of the building, possibly its underside as it looks like you're in a tunnel.

"You can teleport?!"

"Why, can't your Moon Knight not?" The tactical gear shifts into a three-piece suit, the muffled posh accent asks, curiosity shining through his moonlit eyes.

"No!"

You hear him laugh as he pulls you, again, to run down the leaking tunnel. You hear multiple footsteps behind you, looking over your shoulder you see familiar faces.

"Wait– Steven!" You call out to the avatar and stopped in your tracks, "America!! Stephen!! Christine!!" You greeted them with a wide smile, relieved to find them alive. They greeted you back but in a horrified and hurried manner.

"Don't stop running! She's tailing right behind them!!"

True to Khonshu's words, you see the Scarlet Witch limping just behind them. You hear the familiar sound of clothes shifting before you are once again pulled to run, this time by Marc.

The trio catches up to you. You were about to cast a spell but you were hurled to Moon Knight's shoulder, a squeak leaves past your mouth at the sudden move. "Marc!!" You say as you lightly hit his caped back.

"Sorry sweetheart, can't risk it!!" He says as he runs past the trio.

"I hate you–" "No, you don't." "Yeah, no, I don't."

"I'm sorry to break your guys' moment but who is this?!" Christine asks between breaths while running beside Stephen–the sorcerer–behind Marc.

"The Moon Knight!!" America answers her before you could, excitedly if you may add.

"You've got yourself a multiversal fan, Marc."

"I'll sign their shirt later."

As Christine closes the last barrier, you all catch your breath. Marc finally puts you down, his mask unfurling from his face to show his worried gaze. He cups your cheek in both hands, you lay your on top of his.

A silent agreement was made.

"Please, be careful out there." You whisper as you lean to his weary hand.

"We will."

"Keep this look, I love it on you." You smirk and kiss their palm, noting that the other two are co-fronting as their suits are clashing together, making a beautiful mix of ceremonial, tactical, and prim and proper.

"Noted." They cheekily replied, Jake's signature smirk morphing with Marc's low voice and Steven's shy eyes.

You look over to the moon god, huffing you sprint to his form and hug his torso, missing your moon god. You feel him return the hug, and a warm surge of magic flows through you.

You escape his embrace as you look up to him with wide eyes.

"A small blessing to protect you from that witch's magic."

You gaped at him, your god wasn't able to do so because you didn't give him a chance. You hug him again, mumbling thank you's to his stomach.

"You know we could use that blessing as well." Stephen chides, you chuckle at your friend's comment.

"I'm afraid only those who worship me can receive my blessing, Stephen Strange."

The Egyptian god lets you go. You hear the sorcerer scoff in disbelief at the god's response.

You glance back and forth between your Moon Knight and his god.

"Go. Now, please."

They nodded and disappeared from your very eyes. You gulp and face the closed off end of the tunnel. Waiting for the inevitable.

But a white-suited fella with glowing eyes materializes in front of you and steals a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, "Goodbye love! Our autograph will have to be moved on a later date," and disappears once again.

Gods you don't deserve these men.

Your fawning over for your lovers is cut short as a shrill voice echoes across the tunnel.

Since when did this became a fucking horror movie?!

~🌖~

You landed gracefully on your feet as you hopped off from the door after Christine, standing back up, your eyes wandered around the interior of the place.

"This is the gap junction, the place between universes."

You hum at the red head's words, distracted at the colorful space and floating rubbles, before you lock your gaze at the shining blue book.

"The book of Vishanti." You mumble in adoration.

You approach the stand as Stephen walks up the stairs. You hold your breath as he grasps it in his hand, expecting a trap to drop itself on your party.

As Stephen dislodges the book from its holder, and no traps emerging, you sigh in relief, chuckling as you glance back to the teen and Christine, victory seems to be on your side now.

Something caught your eye behind the teen but you brushed it off.

Once your brain caught up to what you saw you did a double take, yet it was too late.

"AMERICA–"

You really shouldn't have jinxed it.

America shrieks as she grasps her hair, being pulled back by the Scarlet Witch.

You jump in front of Christine as you shoot a fiery beam at the rogue magic wielder, Stephen doing the same.

You see her struggle from both of you's attacks. Good.

But she pushed through. Damnit.

You grunt as you feel yourself being physically pushed back by the intensity of the clash between eldritch and chaos magic.

The red chaos magic pulses and pulses until it reaches you, breaking yours and Stephen's spell and flinging you both, You groan as your back hits the floor.

A sizzle of something burning made you snap your head up to its source.

The book of Vishanti.. it's.. gone.. Eaten by the red fiery flames.

Your only hope in defeating the Scarlet Witch. Gone. Reduced to ashes.

You look up at Strange as you sit up, despair in both your eyes as it meets. A gasp tears from your throat as you feel something burning wrap itself around your form, red mist lifting you up from the ground, alongside Christine and Stephen.

A guttural growl vibrates low on your throat as you try to escape her grasp, even if you knew it was futile.

But, you fell on your butt as you wiggled out of the witch's grasp. You flinched at the contact but quickly recovered as you stood up.

Panting, you look at her and your arms in shock. Shimmering white lines appeared in places where the chaos magic touched you.

Khonshu's Blessing!

You prayed to your god as you thanked him before blasting Maximoff off America.

Your face twisting to something sinister, she was able to block your attack but it distracted her enough to drop your colleague and friends. Summoning a whip on your other hand, you flick it and let it wrap around America's form and tug her to you.

"It's okay kid! I got you!"

The witch is faster though. She was able to have her hold again on the teen and it has now become a human tug of war.

The former Sorcerer Supreme casts a stronger spell.

It was her turn to be pushed back by the forces of your magic.

Yours and Stephen's eldritch magic now winning against her chaos magic. Your yellow beams become brighter as you walk forward, summoning more ropes in on your other hand to grasp America and pull her to you. The red mist becomes shorter as it fights against yours, and weaker around America's form as you tug her to safety.

You hear Wanda scream on top of her lungs and her chaos magic explodes and wrecks the place. Pushing you off your balance and effectively severs your focus as you're hurled back to a pillar.

Your head hits the concrete slab, black covers your vision.

~🌗~

Cold. Very fucking cold is the first thing that you noticed as you came back to consciousness.

You woke up with a gasp. A pulsing pain on your skull made you moan silently in pain.

The cold hard thing on your face slowly registers in your brain that you are laying face down and front on the ground.

Blinking and shaking your head, you take your time in pushing yourself up from the freezing concrete, you hope Khonshu's blessing has protected your brain from concussion.

"Dreamwalking, you hypocrite!!"

You took a sharp intake of breath through your clenched teeth in hearing Maximoff's voice. Right, shit. You've thought it has ended when you passed out.

Grunting, you stumble up to your feet and face the ongoing fight. Scarlet Witch fighting… who or what the hell is that?!

Nevermind that, if that…thing is fighting against her then it or they might be on your side.

You see America being held up by the chaos magic on top of a slab– "America!!"

Making various hand signs, you cast a spell to break her free from its grasp. Magical circular runes appear before you, you pull your arm back and watch as the orange sparkling circles separate in bands and the red mist disperse from the teen's wrists and ankles.

You twist your wrists and push your hands to the front, softening her landing on the slab as it becomes foam in nature momentarily by your spell.

Dropping your stance, you run to her side and place your hand on her forehead, scanning her form up and down you ask worriedly, "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Please tell me you're okay–"

"I'm fine." America pants as she looks down on the slab–now very soft and squishy to touch–as you pull her up and off it.

The sharp wailing from the ongoing fight in front of the–you just noticed–Darkhold Castle made both of your heads turn.

What looks to be dementors circle themselves around Maximoff. Wong standing on the front edge of the place–since when did he get here?– and a zombie looking sorcerer holding her hand out to where the Scarlet Witch is struggling in keeping the dementor things away from her.

You swear you've seen that zombie somewhere.

You two watch as the zombie ally uses the dementors as a cage and brings them over to Wong. He casts a spell to keep them locked in, he's struggling to keep it there.

"Stay here." You ordered the teen and squeezed her bicep lightly before running to assist Wong.

You do the same hand gestures Wong used and strengthened the magic capsule.

"Nice of you to join the party."

Comments Wong with a grunt, you chuckle tightly as you try to keep your hand steady.

"You know I wouldn't miss it for the world–"

The witch is still able to reach her arm out of the magical cage you and Wong have put her in.

Wong notices this and yells to the zombie ally "She's still breaking free!!"

"Hold her!!" Yelled the zombie back.

"Strange!!"

The zombie is.. Strange?? Well that explains why he looks oddly fucking familiar–

"Take America's power–"

"No!" You intervene, looking back and forth between the Asian man and the corpse in aggravation. "There must be an–"

The spell you and Wong are using is breaking–

"There's no other way!!" The sorcerer supreme pants, despair painted all over his face as he glances at you then back to Stephen.

You hiss as your muscles strains in keeping the spell up.

"No. This is the only way." You hear Stephen rasp.

The witch breaks free and her force once again flings you across the room, this time you were ready to use a spell to stop yourself from hitting the wall and lunged yourself back to her.

Not expecting the attack, she wasn't able to counter and you were able to tackle her to the ground.

She groans as her back hits the ground, you roll to the side and prepare to cast another spell.

Before you could, she hits you with her red mist square on the torso and pushed you back to the stairs. Whatever spell she used didn't affect you, you could see the confusion in her eyes as she looked down on her glowing hands then back to you.

"Thank you Khonshu–"

She flings another spell, what you thought towards you and so you raised your forearm and formed a shield, but hearing a hoarse pained yelp beside you, you were wrong.

You drop your shield and see your zombie friend's arm being toasted to ash.

As you are about to use your magic on Maximoff, America beats you to it as her fist meets the other female's face, punching her square on the jaw.

Blue tinted magic erupted from that punch and multiple star-shaped portals formed behind the witch.

"YES!! AMERICA FUCKING KICK HER ASS!!"

You couldn't help but cheer for the teen. You hear a gritty chuckle behind you, you look over to your half-fried zombie friend.

"I have a lot of questions.."

"Save them for later." He replies as he tries to sit up. You walk over to his side and help him with that.

"Might forget it." You whine, pulling him up to the stairs.

"Then don't forget it."

"Even in death you're still sassy as fuck." You grumble as you scrunch your nose. "You smell!" You lightly push his rotting arm with your palm.

"I don't exactly think dead people have hygiene." He rolled his misty sunken eyes and turned his attention back to the fight.

He sees the teen about to approach the raging witch, "Don't!"

The teen stops and turns to him and you.

"Not yet."

America nods, she looks up at you and you give her a small unsure yet reassuring smile.

You watch as Wanda drops to her knees, as her other version approaches her and gingerly cups her face. Her other version says something to her that you couldn't hear.

America pushes the portal away from the Scarlet Witch and closes it. Leaving her kneeling on the snow-covered ground.

She suddenly rose from her feet and brought herself on the slab.

The castle, unstable from the fight, shakes violently. You stable yourself on the hexagonal–back to its original hardened state–slab.

America runs to you and Stephen, "What now?" She asks, panting as she looks between you and the animated corpse beside you.

"Get out of here." Stephen rasps out an order, "All three of you–"

"What about you?!" You ask, clueless of Stephen's predicament.

"We'll find him, don't worry. Come on!" The teen takes your hand and brings you to the front, you look back to Stephen then to Wanda.

"Hey." You called out to the girl in maroon, feeling as if you had to have something to say to her even though you have nothing in mind.

The teen stops in her tracks, Wanda looks at you with glossy eyes, you rack your brain whatever you wanted to say to her and settle on, "Do the right thing, please."

She casts her eyes down and nods. America tugs you again and you two cross the blue portal, Wong already waiting for you on the other side.

The last thing you saw was Wanda raising her glowing hands before the portal closed.

Exhaling deeply you turn to the teen and the sorcerer supreme beside you.

America latches her arms around your neck, making you stumble back a few steps from the sudden hug attack. You chuckle and return the embrace, rocking her side to side.

"Thank you."

"I didn't even do much, kid." You tell her as she pulls herself off, "Stephen is the one that you should thank." You give her a small smile, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"You still saved me and it means a lot to me."

She gratefully grins at you, eyes shimmering in childish joy before hugging you again.

You bite your lip as you try not to cry, this kid is so sweet.

You glance at Wong, he only watches you both with a tired smile on his face. You wanted to offer your hand and bring him in for a group hug but the man isn't exactly a hugger.

You look around the place, you're back in Kamar-taj. The temple is crumbling and surrounded by its debris.

"Well this needs one hell of a repair."

Your comment earns a groan and small giggle.

~🌘~

After taking Stephen back to your universe–only then you knew that he was dreamwalking–repair work and burying the brave sorcerers took place. You helped around a bit while anxiously thinking of your boys back in London.

Possibly sensing your anxiety, the former sorcerer supreme approaches you after you move a debris out of the way.

"Here." He takes your wrist and places a sling ring on your open palm.

"Wha–" You look up to him in confusion. It's good to see his not rotting face.

"Go home. We'll take it from here." Stephen smiles down at you and pats your bicep. He was about to walk away but you stopped him with a hug, expressing your gratitude through actions. Unlike the current sorcerer supreme, this man might act like he is not a hugger when in reality it's obviously the exact opposite.

"Okay, no need for that." He groans above you, you only chuckle, you feel him return the hug eventually and you grin widely.

"You're a softie, admit it."

"Shut up and just go." He gently pries you off him, you let him push you away, unwrapping your arms from his torso.

"Good to see you alive and fresh, Stephen."

"Don't make me take back the sling ring."

~🌑~

Taking a deep breath you open a portal right outside the door of the boys' flat. You nibble your lower lip. You feel your heart hammer inside your chest, the portal closing behind you after you enter it.

"okay, okay, okay–" You whisper, bracing yourself as you raise your fist, ready to rap on the door but it swung open before your knuckle met the wood.

You lock eyes with red, puffy ones. Seeing their glossy eyes, you remember the Earth-838's moon knight system and their pain.

You gulp, unsure of who's fronting at the moment you greet them with a soft and timid, "Hey.." as you drop your hand beside you and pinch the skin of your middle finger with the nail of your thumb.

"I'm so–" You were pulled inside the room before you could continue and arms wrapped around you. Tears gather in your eyes as the feeling of safety and home hits your senses. Sniffling you wrap your own around his and grip the fabric of his blue sweater tightly, burying your face on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." You croak out to his shirt, inhaling through your mouth, you sob and repeat the phrase over and over again. You hate seeing them hurt and being the one who inflicted it, but you had a job to do. One that would not only save the world but most importantly them.

"I had to–" "We know sweetheart, we know, we're sorry too."

Gasping for air, you feel yourself being pulled down by gravity, your knees having given out on you as the fatigue from running, casting spells, running again and crying crashes on you like a boulder was dropped on you. He lets you bring them down with you on the floor.

"Dearest," Khonshu calls your name, soft and hurt. You look up from your human boyfriend's shoulder and see your godly sitting on his calves, trying to grasp your hand.

As it phased through, you pull yourself away slightly from the moon knight system's embrace and cast the spells you had used earlier.

Marc's fellow alters materialize in the room with you and Khonshu can once again interact with the mortal plane.

You were immediately tackled with hugs, both human and god,

"Please, don't do that again." Steven mutters on your neck.

"I won't, I promise I won't." In a trembling whisper, you swore with your life.

"God–why do you like to put yourself in front of danger." Marc grumbles on your chest. You chuckle, remembering the many times he had said the same thing, as well as 838Marc.

"I myself have no clue, Spector." The bird god murmurs above as he places his beak on top of your head.

"I don't think he's talking to you, bird." Steven deadpans as he nuzzles on your neck.

Jake chuckles, his mustache tickling the other side of your neck as he had made himself home there, and remarks, "I don't think our hombre will ever realize that."

The rest of you laugh aside from the god above you as he grumbles cusses in an ancient language.

~🌙~

AHHHJSHHSHS THANK YOU FOR READING THISJAHHSHSHS

Hope you guys enjoyed that, bc i enjoyed writing this freakishly long fic 🤧💞💞

if anyone has suggestions, feel free to leave them in the comments i accept constructive criticsm!💞💕

Taglist: @m4nd0l0r @rosaren2498 @rosequinn121 @missdragon-1 @johnny-simpfinger(Oscar Isaac gif owner)

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radioactivepeasant · 6 months

Text

Snippet Monday: Blackmail au

Prologue

"Travel the stars with us," the Precursors said, "Become one of us."

"I will," answered the hero, "but only on one condition: in the next iteration of this endless cycle, let the child have his family. Let at least one iteration of us know his father."

"If we allow this," said the Precursors, "you will still be the chosen hero. You will still hold the blood of Mar. And you will still suffer. But for one lifetime, we will let the child be a separate person, in exchange for your service in this lifetime."

"Then it is agreed," said the hero, and so the wheel of time turned, changing direction ever so slightly.

Part One: The Bargain

"Ah, there he is, right on schedule." Krew chortled as Jak slipped through the pub door.

There were a lot of people at the bar, all Wastelanders. Tess shot a worried look at Jak, but kept her bubbly smile up. What was going on? Were these friends of Sig’s? Jak wasn't so sure, considering the concerned grimace Sig was sporting.

One of the newcomers, a broad, scarred man with a drooping mustache, stood up and approached Jak slowly.

"Yep," he drawled, circling the boys, "Nipper's got the eyes alright. Same jaw, too." He snorted. "Heh. And here I was afraid you was losin' your touch, Krew. Right. We'll take 'im."

"Excuse me?" Daxter sputtered.

"Sorry, Jak," Krew said without the slightest shred of sincerity, "But after that little racing stunt of yours, I had to do some thinking. I've got a lot of money riding on Errol winning that final race. I'm afraid you've just become too expensive to keep on. No hard feelings, eh? It's just business."

"Ok?" Jak eyed the Wastelanders suspiciously. "And that's supposed to keep me from racing because...?"

"Because you're under new management, shall we say." Krew gestured to the Wastelanders. "Don't think of it as being fired! Think of it as a transfer of sorts."

Daxter bristled. "You wanna run that by us again, Morning Breath?"

Instead, the Wastelander turned on his heel to face Krew. "Now, you an' me, we both know you're askin' too high for the state the brat's in. Come on, Krew, you ain't fed him this whole time?"

Jak went rigid and began to back towards the door. Whatever was happening here, he wanted no part of it.

"Well it's wholly up to your lord's discretion, of course," Krew said, oily smooth, "If you can't come up with the price, I'm sure the Baron would pay fairly for a soldier of Jak's caliber."

One of the women at the bar laughed meanly. "Lordship said you might say that. He also said to remind you that you could do that, but only if you feel like being hanged with your own entrails."

Krew fanned himself and hovered higher. "Oh dear me, that sounds like bad blood, doesn't it? Speaking of blood, you'd best get moving if you don't want to lose the boy, there. I'm not responsible for losses incurred during pickup."

Jak had barely gotten out the door before they were on him. Someone grabbed Daxter from his shoulder, and four more sets of hands pinned his arms. These weren't weak, exhausted Havenites. Or indolent KG looking for excitement. These were real Wastelanders, and they were more than a match for Jak's struggles.

"Let him go, rot you!" he snarled, lunging for the woman holding Daxter by the scruff, "Get your hands off him!"

"Easy, boy, easy." The woman took a step back. "Just gonna hang onto Shorty here as insurance."

Sig finally managed to push his way through the crowd and elbowed one of Jak's captors in the gut, hard. As the man doubled over, Sig ripped his hands off of Jak's arm.

"Hands off my rookies," he hissed.

"Sig, w- what- what- what-" Jak could barely speak. Rage and terror constricted his lungs, his throat.

"I don't know, cherry." Sig shook his head grimly. "But I'm gonna find out. No matter what happens, you stick close to me and do as I do, okay? We're gonna get you through this."

Then he shoved the rest of the Wastelanders away, one by one. They parted like wheat before the wind, like they knew Sig. Like they respected him. The second he was free, Jak had to lock his knees to keep from collapsing. He couldn't even bring himself to be angry that they could all see him trembling uncontrollably. Krew had sold him to Wastelanders like a piece of meat. Like a slave. What would happen to the search for the Tomb if he was imprisoned in the Wastes? Would The Shadow force the Kid to search in Jak’s stead? He wouldn't put it past him, not after the jobs they'd sent him to do.

"Oh, I do so love facilitating family reunions!" Krew cooed, hovering at the door, "It warms the heart! And me wallet!"

He waggled his fingers meaningfully and cast greedy eyes over a trunk the one called Kleiver kicked in his direction.

"Mmyes, tell your liege lord I'll keep me eyes peeled for the smaller brat, eh?"

Jak's already chilled blood froze. He lunged for Krew, barely restrained by Sig at the last second.

"Don't touch him!" he growled, "Don't you even look at him! I'll kill you! I'll rotting kill you!"

Jak didn't see the Wastelanders around him, even Sig, suddenly exchange extremely grim looks. But when Sig tugged him away from the bar and towards the waterfront, he knew something had changed.

"Quiet, cherry," Sig hissed in his ear. "You're gonna have the Guard down on us with that yelling, and I don't want to give Krew any ideas about collecting that bounty on you!"

They had to physically drag him into the air train, and even that was only possible because the woman holding Daxter captive went in first. Cursing Sig every step, Jak struggled in vain to get his arms free.

"Jak!" Sig finally exploded, "Knock it off! We're trying to save your ass, here!"

"I didn't ask for your help!" Jak aimed a kick behind him and met hard metal armor. Memories of the prison clawed at the edge of his mind, threatening to pull him back into a dark place.

"You have no right-! You can't buy- you- you-"

His breathing became rapid and labored. "I am not a thing!" he screamed, finally breaking free.

Seconds too late. The hatch was closed.

"Jak! Jak, look at me, kiddo, look at me!" Sig desperately tried to grab his arm.

"I don't know what's going on, you gotta believe me. But I know Krew wasn't joking about selling you to Praxis, and I'd die before I let that bastard get his hands on you again."

Kleiver curled his lip at them from across the hold. "Paid a ransom that coulda fed a garrison for a month and this is the thanks we get? Ungrateful brat is what you are."

Sig glared at him. "Ransom?! You walked in there talking like an auction! Who's ransoming Jak?"

The woman holding Daxter spoke up.

"Lord Damas wants him. Krew contacted him, month back. Said he had proof the Heir of Mar abandoned a bastard son during the coup and if nobody came forward to "take responsibility", he'd out him to Praxis."

Jak went very, very still. Was Krew using him to defraud someone? Wouldn't be out of character. But where had he gotten the idea to pass Jak off as the lost Heir? And did that mean little Mar was abandoned? If he was, Jak knew he was going to make this so-called lord in question pay in blood for it.

"Jak? Bull. Damas lost the baby in the coup. He didn't abandon him." Sig snapped.

"Not on purpose, at least," Kleiver snorted. “If you was carryin’ a deposed king’s brat during a hostile takeover, would you say anything?”

Sig tightened his jaw and said nothing.

Jak didn't know how long they were in the air train. He'd blocked everything out. The Wastelanders, Sig, even Daxter. He'd shut them out and retreated into the one corner of his mind where the darkness couldn't touch him. The place where he remembered the sound of the ocean, and warm waves against his ankles. He was free there, and they couldn't take the sea from him.

When they landed, he didn't even notice until a blinding light pierced the hold-

Along with the smell of salt air.

Jak raised his head slowly, squinting through hanks of hair into the light. His free place in his mind didn't have the smell of the sea. Why did he smell salt?

"Everybody out!" Kleiver bellowed, "You know I don't like monks, so let's get this over with, yeah?"

Sig wrapped an arm around Jak’s shoulders and pulled him to his feet. "Stay close, kids," he murmured, and Jak finally realized that now he had Daxter. "I...don't know what to tell you. But I'm gonna do whatever I can to keep you two safe, okay?"

They exited onto a spire of rock, high above what seemed like an endless stretch of desert on one side, and a turbulent sea on the other. A Precursor temple sat before them, surrounded by ruined columns and porticos. Three zoomer-like vehicles were parked near a tiny natural waterfall, which seemed to mean something to the Wastelanders.

"Welp. He's already here." The woman in the yellow turban sighed. "Fingers crossed this checks out, everybody."

She waved to Sig.

"Get him inside before noon, huh? I don't feel like losing a layer of skin to the sun, thanks."

It was nearly ten degrees colder inside the temple. Personally, Daxter thought the weird people dressed in rubber emanated half the chill themselves. One of them approached Sig, holding a small plastic cup. Their eyes flicked to Jak, and they held out the cup with a bored expression.

"Blood or saliva sample," they said flatly.

Jak balked. "What?"

Sig cringed. "They want to...to see if you're who Krew claimed you are. Just...spit in the cup, kid. Their computer will tell them if Krew was lying or not."

When it became clear that the monk wasn’t going to leave until they got what they were after, Jak begrudgingly spat into the cup. The monk exited the chamber without a word.

Jak spent the next three hours huddled in an alcove, behind a small Precursor statue. He clung to Daxter like a lifeline, glaring out at the monks and Wastelanders watching him and whispering amongst themselves. Any time one came close, Jak scooted further back into the cloister. None of them looked small enough to get around the statue at the mouth. They couldn't reach him here.

One man in particular wouldn't stop staring at them. He had a commanding presence, despite not being the tallest or broadest in the room. Scars decorated his face and arms, and sharp points of Precursor metal had been set into his skull. Which was admittedly kind of badass. He watched Jak with dark, piercing eyes and a hard set to his jaw. When a monk placidly paced forward and presented the man with a datapad, murmuring, "Positive match, sire," the man's eyes darkened further.

He turned on his heel and disappeared through a door.

"Sire?"

"I'm going to pray," the man snapped in a rough voice. "Leave me. And get the boy some water, for the gods' sake!"

Was that the man who had supposedly paid a ransom for him? Jak retreated into the very back of the cloister and buried his face in Daxter's fur.

"Rot this day. Rot this whole rotting week," he mumbled.

"You said it, pal." Dax wrapped his arms around Jak’s neck and tried to comfort him. "Hey, they made me spit in a cup too! You think their computer will tell them I'm an ottsel? Or a human?"

Jak blinked. "Uh....how smart are computers supposed to be?"

"Like. As smart as Vin, I think?"

Jak shrugged, grateful for the distraction. "Maybe. That'll freak ‘em out, huh?"

"Oh yeah. So what do you think is up with Spikes? Wrong answers only."

"Wrong only? Uh...he just found out he's part marmoset."

"Or his application for a piercing refund was rejected."

"Or," Sig interrupted flatly, "he just found out he had a kid he didn't know was alive, and he's dealing with a lot of guilt right now."

Sig crouched at the mouth of the cloister and looked in at them. He seemed to have aged years since that morning. He held out a hand and sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

"Come on out kiddo. We're gonna get you some food, some-"

He closed his eye and shook his head. "Volcan's bones. I...I didn't know- none of us did...gods, he must've snatched you the same year we lost Mar-"

"Mar?" Jak interrupted sharply, "What do you know about Mar?"

When Sig looked up again, Jak was shaken to see tears in his eye.

"I ain't talking about the founder of Haven, cherry. And I don't think you are, either."

He sniffed and cleared his throat. "Little thing. So...he's so- he was so small. Sweetest little kid you ever met, always getting into trouble."

He cleared his throat again and tapped his cybernetic eye. "Only takes a moment. You look away one minute. Not even one full minute. And that's all it takes for the world to end. Praxis sympathizers ambushed us. Shot out my eye and took- took Mar. We never saw him again. But...but I think you did."

Jak's stomach churned, and the world began to spin. Mar? The little boy he'd been so desperate to protect? This had to be some kind of trick, they were trying to trick him into giving up Mar's location so they could get to the Tomb. Daxter's claws dug into his arm, pulling him back to earth before the dark eco could take over.

"I have to go back-" Jak croaked, "You have to take me back- take me back! Take me back! I can't leave him alone!"

Sig shifted and looked up at someone just out of sight.

"I was right," he said heavily, "He knows something."

Next >

#snippet Monday #jak and daxter #dadmas #king damas #jak and daxter au #fic prompts #writing prompts #blackmail au #dad sig #jak and mar are separate people au #angst with a happy ending #jnd Kleiver #Damas did NOT plan this well. He panicked and went for 'whatever gets the kid out of Haven the fastest'#Jak has no idea that Krew has been holding him for ransom for weeks

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depressoexpresso-anon · 1 year

Note

Hii hope your doing well

I wanted to ask if you could do like aftercare with Alphonse and Seth and listener cause they be needing it 😂

Overthinking

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Alphonse x Reader x Seth (somewhat)

Late into the night after intercourse, reader becomes restless and starts to overthink things. Luckily, a pink-haired punk knows how to bring them back down to earth.

Semi-SFW, implications of the trio doing the deed, fluff, mostly between Al and Reader but Seth is in the background.

Extra notes at the bottom.

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The air around the room felt a bit warm and sticky. The smell of sex still lingered in your bedroom as the men on either side of you snored peacefully.

You, on the other hand, were nothing but.

You felt restless, which was a bit off for you. Always after, you felt you could pass out due to the overstimulation and the pure exhaustion of having both of your lovers at once.

Tonight wasn't like that though. You felt restless and alert, hell you could go for another round if you wanted to. But you decided against it. You didn't like the idea of waking up your boys for your selfish desires, even when they did so much for you.

You landed on your side staring into Alphonse's sleeping face as Seth cuddled into your back, arms around your waist. You pull your hand from the warmth beneath the covers to stroke Al's sharp face and fluffy hair.

'This feels so perfect. They are so perfect.' You thought as you kept running your fingers against the skin of his face.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice Alphonse open his icy blue-grayish eyes.

"What you doin' boo." He said in a groggy voice as he faded away from sleep and into the awake world.

"Oh nothing, just feeling your stubble." You say in a teasing manner.

"Really. I just shaved not too long ago."

You hummed a response back.

"I don't know Al, hair grows by pretty fast."

"Well, not this fast," Al said with slight annoyance.

You knew Al wasn't a real big fan of facial hair on him. He never got into detail as to why but, you never really wanted to open up old scars.

"Well if it helps, I think you'll look hot in a beard, kinda like a sexy pirate or Jared Leto."

He let out a small chuckle and cupped your hand that lay on his cheek.

"Wha'chu thinking about boo?" Al said as he turned his head to kiss your palm.

You stare deeply into his icy blue eyes and let out a tired sigh.

"I don't know Al. I just feel restless at the moment. I have no idea why I feel this way, maybe I'm just overthinking stuff."

Al adjusted himself onto one elbow to get a better look at you while you continue your rant.

"Sometimes I just wonder if this is all a dream, you know. Like I'll just wake up one day and everything will just be gone." You said while your hand found his hair and started to play with it between your fingers.

Alphonse laid back down and scooted closer to your body, he pulled you into his embrace while his eyes were still looking into yours.

"You know that will never happen, right? I and Seth will always be there to support you and love you tenfold. So don't stress about it boo."

Al said while planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, Alphonse." You said while snuggling into his chest to help you fall back into sleep.

Al sat his chin on top of your head and let out a small hum of acknowledgment.

"I love you too, Y/N."

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Hello everyone. I've not been posting a lot cause I started a new job and I haven't been really motivated to write, so I took a break for a bit.

Also, my dear mother birthed me from her loins today. So I figured to hurry and get this posted. Thanks for your patience and liking my work.

Thank you for reading

Love you all❤️

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice fanfic #yuurivoice alphonse #yuurivoice seth #floof n friends

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faulty-writes · 11 months

Text

[ Alright my dear followers and or fans, I present to you a Tomura/Tenko fic. This was inspired by the song Closing Time - Semisonic. Although I personally recommend listening to the cover version by Green Day. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this. It's always fun for me to write our main villain boy. Also, fun fact...rum and coke are mentioned in this fic and that's one of my favorite alcoholic drink combinations but remember kids, drink responsibility. ]

[ Some people go to the bar to drink, others to have a good time. All you wanted was to have a little fun and take your chances with anyone that wanted to take you home. But your plans change when a certain hooded man walks up to the bar and you discover a misguided attraction to him. ]

You tilted your head back, enjoying the soothing burn of the last of your drink as it ran down your throat. “Ah,” you satisfyingly said, placing the now empty glass back onto the counter. This bar may not be popular, but it was a haven of sorts, and every kind of character was here, including a few less-than-known heroes.

Of course, most heroes, if they were smart, wouldn’t be caught dead drinking unless they happened to have one damn good disguise. “Hey there,” you paused, turning your attention to a tall, bulky man with lightly tanned skin who was currently leaning his elbow against the bar counter.

He had a scar on the left side of his cheek and another on his thick-looking neck. His short gray hair was spiked up and the left portion of his bangs hung against his forehead. The most unusual thing about him was the fact he had two canine-like teeth that jotted out even when his mouth was closed.

You snickered, immediately recognizing him as being one of those previously mentioned “less-than-known” heroes. But you were bored, and frankly, you hadn't met anyone interesting tonight. So, you smiled and tried turning up the charm.

“Awe...are you talking to me?” you teased. “Sure am,” he replied with a grin and waved down the bartender. You leaned closer, able to smell the alcohol on his person. “Are you planning to buy me another drink?” you asked, trying to be flirty, and why not? It’d kill a few minutes.

Even in his intoxicated state, he picked up the hints you were giving. “I don’t think I could deny a pretty little thing’s request,” he replied, making you chuckle. “What’s your name?” you asked, purposely sliding your hand over his. He briefly glanced over.

“Sekijiro Kan,” he replied and shifted his gaze back. “And you are?” You debated giving a fake name, but it’s not like you’d ever see each other again or so you hoped. “Y/n,” you answered. “Well, whaddya want to drink Y/n?” he asked, and you tapped your lips.

“Well, it's the last call for drinks so,” you shrugged. “A rum and coke is fine,” you hadn't had too many drinks tonight, but you felt buzzed nonetheless and figured something sweet might perk you up. “Heh,” he smiled and turned to the bartender.

“Alright. One beer and one rum and coke,” he said, shifting his attention back to you. “I didn’t think any cool guys would be in a place like this,” you said. He cocked his eyebrow and turned back to the counter when the drinks were set down.

“Thanks,” he muttered. “So, you think I’m cool?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer and you took a few swallows of your drink, enjoying the smooth and carbonated flavor as it washed over your tongue. You licked your lips and placed the glass back onto the counter.

“I-” you paused when someone approached the bar and blocked your view of Sekijiro. “Um, excuse me!” you said, noticing he was wearing a dark hoodie with equally dark skinny jeans and stark red shoes that looked beaten half to death.

Not many chose to wear such a getup and it stirred your curiosity as did his silent response. Sekijiro tightened his hand around his beer. “Hey!” he exclaimed, “Can’t you see we're having a conversation? Beat it!” You knitted your eyebrows, wondering why he was being so aggressive to this new and mysterious man.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said, leaning over the counter to look at him. He frowned, perhaps angry that his attempts at continuing his conversation with you were interrupted. He growled and looked at the mysterious man again. “What’s your problem, huh?” he asked. More silence filled the air, then a soft “Heh,” came.

Sekijiro narrowed his eyes when the man turned to face him and noticed that his hood was shadowing a portion of his face, but he also sensed something off about the man. “You’re just another stupid hero who has nothing better to do than to drink your problems away,” he said, making your eyes widen.

His voice was very distinct, somewhat raspy, and yet confidence dripped from it. “Oh wow,” you said, laying a hand on your cheek and lowering your eyelids. It was rare to find a sober individual that was so bold and assertive, traits that you found attractive.

Sekijiro looked shocked for a few seconds then anger washed over his features and he stood up, grabbing the front of the man’s hoodie. “Who do you think you are talking about heroes like that!?” he demanded, and while you knew it wasn’t your place to step in between a possible bar fight, you foolishly rushed into action.

“Hey, cool it!” you hissed, pressing your hands against Sekijiro’s chest. He growled and looked down at you before swallowing the remaining contents of his beer. He slammed the empty bottle onto the counter and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“If you want to waste your time with him, go ahead,” he stated, throwing yen onto the counter, and walking away. You frowned, ‘Well that was kind of rude,’ you thought. For a hero, he wasn't exactly acting heroic. Although you could blame the alcohol. “Heh, sorry about that,” you said, turning back to the hooded man.

“Mm…” he pressed his lips together. In the dimmed light of the bar, you couldn’t see how chapped those lips were nor the scar on the right side of his mouth. Tomura didn’t know why he had wandered in here. Guess he was pissed off.

Kurogiri’s insistence that he “calm down” in order to make “the right choice” certainly influenced his actions. In such a crowded place, more damage could be done. Especially if someone dared to piss him off further. In particular, you had tried acting like a stupid little hero and goddamn, did he hate heroes.

“Uh…” you blinked, tapping your lips in thought. “So…are you from around here?” you asked, hoping he would respond. Unfortunately, your words were greeted with silence, and he took a seat, waving down the bartender. You frowned, clenching your hands at your sides.

It was obvious he wasn’t interested in talking to you, but you wouldn’t give up. He glanced to the side, feeling annoyed by your presence. ‘Jeez, some people can’t take a hint,’ he thought, reaching out to take the glass of whiskey laid in front of him.

He swirled around the auburn-colored liquid, enjoying the sound of the ice clinking together, and tilted his head back to casually take a sip. ‘Pff, to think I could be sitting at Kurogiri’s bar instead,’ he lowered his drink onto the counter. “Why are you still standing there?!” he snapped, turning his head toward you.

Your heart raced, and you brought your hands to your chest. Most would be afraid or angry when yelled at, especially by a stranger in a bar, but he was still more interesting than anyone else you had met tonight. There was something different about him, something that made you drawn to him.

“Maybe I’m just looking for someone to take me home,” you responded, half-joking. He perched his lips to one side and leered at you. “Uh,” you glanced to the side, trying to come up with something to say, but he turned back to the counter. “Idiot,” he commented under his breath before downing the rest of his drink.

“Ouch,” you replied with a false frown, placing your hand over your heart. “Why is it so bad to want someone to take you home?” he sighed, slamming his clenched fists onto the counter. He knew it was too soon to let his quirk go wild, but damn you were pushing him.

“You know, I don’t give a shit about people dying,” he stated, standing up and pointing his finger at you. “If you willingly go home with someone, then it’s your own fault if you end up dead now, isn’t it!?” he hissed, leaning forward, and causing you to step back in response.

“...I…” you wanted to reply, but he huffed. “Thought so,” he replied flatly and walked away. “Hey!” you called after him, there was no way you were going to let him go just yet. You turned back to the counter, rapidly swallowing the rest of your drink before running after him.

Without thinking, you grabbed the back of his hoodie. He stumbled and after a few seconds, he eerily looked over his shoulder at you. ‘Now I know they’re a fucking idiot,’ he thought, there weren’t many people that dared to touch a villain, let alone attempt to stop them in their tracks.

Well, guess you’d have to learn who he was the hard way. “Uh…” you blinked, realizing what you had just done. Everything in your being told you to release your hold on him, but you ignored it and drew your bottom lip into your mouth.

You at least wanted to get something out of him before the lights came on, and the doors opened for everyone to leave. “I’ll stop bothering you if you dance with me!” you frantically said and knitted your eyebrows when he laughed in response.

“And just why the hell would I do that?” he growled, clearly unhappy. His arm came back, forcing your hand off him. “Ah, hey!” you snapped but swallowed any further words when he stepped closer, casting you in his shadow.

“You’re not in charge here, you’re not even a damn hero. You’re just a pathetic little nobody who's so desperate they’ll flirt with anyone,” you growled at his words. Yes, they hurt and maybe held some truth. You were lonely, but you were also a thrill seeker.

You liked having fun, partying, and doing what you needed to feel human. “And you’re just someone who’s afraid to get close to others, am I right?” you shot back, placing your hands on your hips. He scowled and his fingers twitched, damn he just wanted to wrap his hand around your throat and turn you to fucking dust.

Then again, he came here to cool down and what would be the point of ruining the chance to devastate someone? If you were attracted to him, and he knew you were even if you denied it, then fine. He’d drag you along and shatter your stupid little heart and expectations, maybe even have fun ending your life after.

He glanced around, noticing that people were beginning to leave, which meant there’d be fewer witnesses. Of course, if he were anyone else, he’d lore you to a private location and end your life. Fortunately, he wasn't, and he didn't care about causing a public scene.

He smiled, “Fine,” he replied. “Hurry the hell up,” he once again walked past you and toward the dance floor with his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. You smiled in victory, even if he was being rude, that assertiveness remained and frankly, you liked it.

Only a few other couples were on the dance floor, which was illuminated with hues of purple, green, and yellow. The upbeat music that was previously playing turned into a slow melody and Tomura sighed when he turned around.

“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled unhappily and spread his arms out, but you could care less about his attitude. You were getting what you wanted after all. You stepped closer, not hesitating to press your body against his. “You do know how to dance, right?” you teased, and like before, he remained silent.

You shrugged. “Suit yourself, but you’re still leading,” you placed your hand in his. “Hm?” you knitted your eyebrows when he wrapped all but one finger around your hand in return. He did the same with his opposite hand which rested on the side of your hip.

You glanced at him with narrowed eyes, somewhat curious as to what his face looked like underneath the shadow of his hood. His body was stiff, and he barely moved his feet, but you did enjoy the motion of the two of you rounding about slowly.

You smiled, and whether it was the alcohol finally kicking in or the closeness of this mysterious man, your heart fluttered. “Is there a reason why you’re only holding me with eight fingers instead of ten?” you asked after a few moments. He remained silent yet again knowing you’d find out soon enough.

You looked up, noticing the colorful hues that were previously illuminating the dance floor disappear only to be replaced with white lights that shined down on you and the mysterious man. Part of you wanted to wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your head under his chin but unfortunately, the song came to an end.

He immediately pulled his hands back, shoved them into the pockets of his hoodie again, and turned to walk away. “Huh?” you blinked and quickly ran in front of him with your hands held up. “Hold on!” you urged, and he stopped in his tracks, scowling at you.

If he wouldn’t take you home then, “C-come home with me!” you foolishly requested. His scowl dropped, and his lips turned into a thin line. A moment of silence passed, and he chuckled. “You sure act like a friggin lost puppy,” he stated and pushed past you without a care, “Idiot,” he added.

You stumbled before regaining your balance and chasing after him. “Wait a minute!” you shouted, but unlike before you didn’t reach out and grab him. Rather you continued to follow him to the exit, but his steps grew faster and more agitated. He slammed the exit door open and stepped out into the alleyway.

You huffed and grasped the metal handle of the door. “Why don’t you want to come home with me?!” you demanded, stomping your foot against the ground. He paused and looked at you from over his shoulder, once again offering you no answer. “Mm…” you clenched your jaw and marched over to him.

In the background, you heard the door shut. “Why don’t you answer!?” your voice echoed through the cool night air and a gentle breeze came to ruffle your hair. The mysterious man turned to face you. “You’re really annoying you know that?” he said, reaching up to grab the lining of his hood.

“But I think it’s time you learn who I am, then maybe you’ll see how stupid you are for chasing after someone like me,” your breath hitched when that hood finally fell. He was different and mysterious. A fragile soul covered in a dark facade.

But when the light illuminated his face, you realized your mistake. His shoulder-length wavy silver-white hair gave him away, as did his eyes which were colored a deep red. Not to mention the skin around said eyes appeared wrinkled, and his lips were slightly chapped.

He had two distinct scars, one over his right eye and the other over the right side of his lips. On the bottom left side of his face underneath his mouth was a small mole. He leered down at you with a twisted smile. That previous image of him melted away and was replaced with the equivalent of a demon.

You took a step back. Your eyes wide with terror and your jaw dropped. There was no way, no fucking way you felt attracted to, “S-Shigaraki,” you whispered and shivered when he laughed in response. “That’s right!” he declared, that twisted smile growing.

A scream caught in your throat, and you stumbled back only to hit the wall of the building. You panicked and jerked your head to look behind you and decided to run to the door, slamming your fist against it and cursing yourself for allowing it to close.

“Help!” you cried out, ignoring the pain that spread through your hand the harder you hit it. His footsteps echoed from behind you, and fear struck through your heart when you turned and locked eyes with him. Your body was too scared to move and even if it did, you heard the things Shigaraki had done.

There was no way you’d get away alive. This was especially true if the rest of the members that made up the League of Villains were nearby. When he slammed his hand against the wall, the sound of a loud crack masked your scream. It didn’t take a genius to realize he was using his quirk.

“And your sick little mind wanted me,” he said, leaning closer. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. So, you shook your head. “Don’t act stupid!” he snapped, pressing his hand harder against the wall allowing it to decay further.

You flinched at the sound, knowing that he was planning to collapse the building. He chuckled again, finally enjoying himself. Maybe he should go out more often. “I saw the expression in your eyes, and unless you want to die with everyone else in this stupid place…” he paused. “I suggest you let me take you home.”

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #tomura x reader #tomura x you #tomura x y/n #tenko x reader #tenko x y/n #tenko x you #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x self insert #faulty writes: tenko shimura: 23 #faulty writes: tenko shimura: one shot: 23

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khushireadsandrambles · 2 months

Text

Promise

Pairing: Ray Kon x Mariah Wong/Mao Chen

Note: So for my dear followers and members of Bakuten Shoot Fandom, here is my ReiMao Oneshot and a snippet from my book "The End is Nigh"

Mariah was sitting at a hilltop, her eyes glimmering with tears as she rubbed her eyes again and again. She loved Ray. She loved him so much that it hurt her heart. But she had also promised herself one thing- that she will never come between Ray and his dreams. How can she be a good lover if she will bind Ray to her? Love isn't a bondage, its a bond that opens up the whole sky to fly freely. If Ray wanted to fly, who was she to stop him? Yes, it worried and hurt her heart that maybe, he will fall in love with someone else.

She scoffed. Of course, why would he love her? She was a reminder of the village anyways, just a village girl, nothing else. She would want someone with an open mind and modern thinking. She was a naive village girl, she wasn't even beautiful! He definitely won't love her-

"Mao?"

Whipping her head, she cursed in her mind when she saw Ray, and felt the tear marks on her cheeks. Frantically getting up she wiped them and turned to look at him with a smile. "Ray! You didn't leave?" She faked her happiness.

"Mao, what happened? You didn't even came to see me off. Are you hurt that I'm leaving?" Ray asked with concern lacing his voice, his eyes swirling with sadness and worry for the pink haired friend of his.

A Friend for whom he had feelings.

It wasn't long that he had figured it out. But when few months back The White Tigers and Blitzkrieg Boys arrived at same time at Tyson's Dojo- which was disastrously hilarious time of their life- he had been watching Mariah nearly tearing Kevin, Daichi and Ian in new one after the three had pranked Kenny and messed with his Laptop.

Surprisingly it was Tala who had pointed it out, just smirking and saying, "I didn't knew you liked pink." And when he asked how Tala knew his feelings, it was Bryan who snorted on his vodka and said, "It is so obvious that you love your pink haired Kitty." And that had made Ray blush, leading into the two taking it as their right to tease him about it at every point.

And ever since then, the pink haired girl of his own village had taken her heart. Maybe his heart was never with himself in first place, maybe she had it always.

"Oh it's nothing Ray, I just wanted some time alone." Mariah said and looked away, tucking a hair lock behind her ear. Something she did when she was nervous.

"Mao.." Ray held her elbow and turned her towards him. "You are lying. What is it? Tell me." Ray demanded, his golden eyes glinting in sun. Mariah felt her breath shortening. Ray looked like the very White Tiger, Baihu, the Protector of their clan. Be it his fair skin or those Golden eyes he—

Her eyes widened, and she gasped internally.

In the hazy midst of a dream, there stood a figure of enchanting allure. Adorned in the resplendent attire of an ancient Chinese dress, his long hair cascaded like liquid midnight, softly swaying in the ethereal breeze. His Zhishen robe, a pristine canvas of white, bore intricate designs in shimmering gold, each motif dancing in harmony with his every movement. Atop his noble brow rested the majestic Mianguan crown, a symbol of sovereignty and wisdom. Amidst the misty veil of slumber, he stood as a vision of regal elegance, a fleeting embodiment of grace and kindness, giving her a slow smile despite her being unable to see his face.

"Mao?" Ray's eyes widened in worry when he saw Mariah's tears flowing. "Mao!" He shook her worriedly and Mariah blinked, wiping her tears. What did she do? Did she zone out? Whom did she saw? Why was the person in her vision eerily similar to Ray? Why was she feeling this sudden urge to cry and hold Ray?

"I-I'm fine Ray!" Mariah choked out and Ray looked at her with a frown. "You are crying Mari—" "You want to know why I didn't came to see you off, right?" "What?" Ray was stumped by sudden question, thrown off guard.

Mariah took a deep breath and said, "You want to know why I didn't come to see you off, right??" She repeated, a tear rolling down her cheek. Ray widened his eyes, and his hand reached up, wiping the single tear that rolled down. "Yes, I do.." He said softly, cupping her cheeks.

Mariah gulped and took a daring step ahead, their chests now touching as her pink glove clad palms enclosed around Ray's black gloved ones. "Ray... Can I ask you something?" She whispered softly and Ray nodded gently. "Do you.. Do you love me?" She asked. She knew very well that Ray was aware of her feelings for him. Her feelings that never extinguished, despite him having left village. Lee always berated her for loving Ray before they made up, but she brushed it off and stood on her ground.

Ray was caught off guard as his breath got stuck in his throat, no words coming out for a while. He stood there silently, holding Mariah's cheek as his white eyes stared in her eyes, which were wavering. Mariah felt her confidence shatter and she tried to take a step back, but Ray's firm hold on her face prevented her to do so. Ray smiled softly and gently caressed her cheekbones with his thumb and peered in her golden eyes.

"Mao... I'm not a fan of Words. I would like to do the action." He smiled softly and tilted her head up, closing his eyes and pressing his lips against hers. Mariah felt her knees buckle as her tears flew rapidly, and she hurriedly wrapped her arms across his neck and his sturdy arms fell around her small waist, pulling her flush against him as he kissed her more deeply, savouring the taste if strawberry on her lips. He tilted his head for more access and kissed her more deeply, nipping at her lower lip with his sharp teeth.

Mariah let out a yelp at that, and Ray broke their kiss, adjoining their foreheads together as sun shone brightly over them, casting a lovely scenery around them. "I hope you know now..." He breathed out softly, smiling at her lovingly. Mariah nodded rapidly, her tears flowing more and more. "Mao, I promise you. I will return. And when I return.." He took out his Beyblade, and caressed the bitchip of Driger. "I will marry you.." He smiled softly.

Mariah let out a loud teary cry, and lunges forward. Ray yelled in surprise as he felt himself going off balance and he fell on his back, only for Mariah's lips to contact his in a sweet kiss. "I'm yours, Rei." Mariah mumbled shyly between their kiss, and he hugged her tightly, taking off her head scarf in process. "Ray!" Mariah gasped and tried taking her scarf back.

"Nuh-uh!" Ray shook his head and held her scarf up. "It's your token, I want you stronger than ever and face me in Tournament, okay?" He asked softly and her cheeks turned red as she nodded, and slowly laid her head on his chest, listening to his soothing heartbeat.

"I love you Ray.."

"I love you as well, My Little Mao.."

I wanted it to turn out more beautiful and aesthetic but well ig that's the level if romance I can write—

#ray kon #rei kon #mariah wong #mao chen #beyblade fanfiction #tyson granger #beyblade g revolution #kai hiwatari #max tate #max mizuhara #white tigers #hilary tachibana #hiromi tachibana

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 months

Text

Have you never heard of such a thing, darling?

(The Timari Buzzfeed Unsolved AU)

Chapter 2: The Mysterious Case of Haly’s Circus

The video opens, as always, with Tim sitting on the couch, ramrod straight despite the apparent comfortableness of his cushions, smiling in a way that he knows will set people on edge.

People who have been watching Tim’s channel for a while are suddenly struck with the same feeling that new viewers endure when they open one of his videos for the first time. There is something wrong here, though they can’t quite put their finger on what, exactly, is off.

It is never quite scary. It is hard to be scared of a teenage boy. But it is certainly unsettling.

The reason becomes apparent soon enough: the couch is not pressed to the wall as much as it usually was.

Not that this was an easy thing to realize… until someone pops out of the gap for no reason outside of wanting to be dramatic, smiling widely at the audience.

“I’m back by popular demand!” Marinette says. She leans her arms on the back of the couch. “I’m not sure why I agreed. He doesn’t pay me. I’m being exploited.”

“I literally do pay you.”

“Riiiiight, of course you do,” she says, winking. “Don’t worry, GCPD people watching this, I am well taken care of. There is no fraud going on.”

“I don’t think I like this bit,” Tim mumbles.

“Sucks to suck! I do!”

He huffs. “Why did I invite you along again?”

“Because Alya said that I didn’t complete the bet and you’re lonely?”

“You know, at some point, I’m going to sue you for slander.”

“Public figures can’t really sue for slander!”

Tim’s eyebrows raised. “Is that true?”

“Yeah. It’s why tabloids get away with everything. Probably worth a google.”

He groans and rests his head in his hands. This does not entirely hide the faint smile on his face or the way his shoulders shake with barely restrained laughter. But it’s the effort that counts. Probably.

“Okay. Editor!Me, roll intro.”

The terrible dubstep intro is back, to everyone’s utter dismay. ‘The Gotham Files, with Tim Drake’ bounces around the screen once again, but it ends soon enough, thankfully.

Unfortunately, it is quickly replaced by another intro, complete with a different terrible dubstep song and set of strobe lights, proclaiming that ‘Marinette is also here!!!!!!!!!!’

People who listen closely can hear both of them giggling in the background.

Then, there is a hard cut to the two of them standing outside of what looks to be a run-down carnival. The sign above them declares the place to be Haly’s, but it has long since been graffitied over to say ‘Hell’s’ instead.

Marinette does not seem particularly happy about this change, gripping her new ‘company-provided’ flashlight (Tim gave her a spare he found lying around his house so she wouldn’t drain her phone battery) like it was a lifeline.

Tim pays it no mind, other than a murmur of how cliche it is. He smiles at the camera. “Now, since my intro was so rudely interrupted by Marinette –.”

“Popping out from behind the couch was your idea.”

“– I will explain everything now! We are at the site of Haly’s circus. Twelve years ago, tragedy struck during a seemingly routine circus act. A trapeze line snapped, and John and Mary Grayson fell to their deaths, right in front of their young son.”

There is a moment of silence for the two fallen.

Tim brightens up the moment sixty seconds have finished passing. “And, dear viewers, this particular case is a special one, because I was there when it happened!”

Marinette frowns just slightly.

Tim laughs and waves her off immediately. “I was three, I don’t remember any of it, don’t worry about it.”

She looks somewhat unconvinced, but glances at the camera and decides to drop it. Her concern is wiped from her face like it had never been there at all. She smiles and elbows him in the side. “I guess it’s… a plan to conquer trauma by adding another trauma on top of it. Men would rather visit a haunted theme park than go to therapy.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not adding more trauma on top of it, I’m not going to be traumatized. There’s nothing here that can traumatize me.”

“The ghosts are going to make it their mission to prove you wrong, you know.”

“Yeah yeah, my hubris will be my downfall, of this I am aware,” he intones. And then he goes back to addressing the camera. “Now, to this day, people suspect foul play, but police refuse to investigate. Perfect conditions for a possible ghost, don’t you think? So, as always, we are here to solve the mystery of whether the supernatural exists!”

“It does. Can we go home now?”

“Thank you for your investigative journalism,” he says sarcastically, but he slings his arm over her shoulder regardless, pulling her into his side. “Besides, you don’t have to worry. With all the stuff I’ve said to diss them over the years, ghosts – if they were real, which they aren’t – would go for me first.”

“Then could you please let go? I don’t want to be near you when that happens,” she teases.

He huffs a laugh and lifts his arm, allowing her plenty of time to get away. She remains close to his side.

He snickers and lets his arm fall right back into its seemingly perpetual spot around her shoulders. “It’s just an hour.” On cue, bright red numbers appear in the top right corner of the screen, a timer waiting for them to step over the threshold before it could start. “Then we can both leave, yeah?”

“Just an hour,” she mumbles disdainfully.

“Hey, I usually stay overnight. We can do that instead, if you want.”

The video cuts to show… someone, sitting at a desk, in the dark. Their silhouette is rather chunky, it is clear they are draped in one of the biggest, fluffiest blankets known to man. But they are not the focus. No, instead the camera zooms in, to look at the two different computer screens in front of the person. One of them is clearly editing software, and the other is on YouTube. Viewers can see that he is apparently listening to the ChipiChipiChapaChapa song on loop, and has been for at least three hours. Now, though, he finally opens a second tab. The keyboard clacks as they google ‘what time is the sunrise in Gotham’. The mouse circles the time stamp on the bottom of the screen, and the person mumbles under their breath. Apparently doing math, because they edit the timer to say 8:06:45.

The viewers are back to the actual video, where Marinette is laughing.

Tim does not join her.

Her laughter does not quite peter off, but it does gain a slightly nervous edge.

“That’s… a joke right?” she says. “You don’t actually stay in haunted places for hours every time, do you?”

“Well, no, but the only reason I don’t is that there is no such thing as a ‘haunted place’. I do hang out at attractions like this overnight, though.”

“Actually, an hour seems fine.”

The video pauses. Editor!Tim heaves a deep sigh and the clock changes back to its original one-hour-long countdown.

“Also, you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met,” Marinette huffs when time returns to normal. They finally step into the carnival together, and the timer starts ticking down. “At least try and pretend like you think ghosts could exist, to make things fair.”

“You think that this place has a house of mirrors somewhere?” he asks. “Because I would like to introduce you to the most stubborn person to exist.”

She huffs. She might have rolled her eyes, but she was too concerned with drinking in every detail of the world around them, searching for anything amiss.

There was a lot amiss about the place, to be fair to her. Old popcorn bags lay forgotten on the ground, abandoned in a rush and trampled under hundreds of feet, their previously bright colors muddied by the elements over the years. What had once been gleaming, colorful rides were now rusting. A family of opossums peers at them suspiciously from behind a couple of molding stuffed animals, their eyes gleaming hauntingly when their flashlights turn on them.

But nothing supernatural.

The longer they go without finding anything of note, the more Marinette relaxes.

She tugs at Tim’s backpack, and he gives her a mildly questioning look, but lets her open it and pull out a spray can of bright red paint.

“How –? When –?”

“A lady never reveals her secrets,” she says, smirking, tossing the can from hand to hand.

“Isn’t that saying supposed to be about – uh – demonitizable things?”

“Probably,” she shrugs. “Not my problem, though.”

“Uh. I think it is, actually,” he laughs. “You’re going to give the viewers the wrong idea about you.”

“Oh no. The supernatural-obsessed, parasocial people in your comment section are going to witch hunt me. Oh nooooooo.”

“You know, they’d probably be happy if they managed to kill you. More things for me to investigate – and with a personal element.”

“They’re just mad because they get no –.”

No one can guess what word is bleeped out here.

He groans, but he is still grinning widely. “Don’t insult my audience and their lack of... dates! You know how important my viewer retention rates are to me!”

She sticks her tongue out at him, slipping out from under his arm and walking over to the nearest contraption. It’s a gravitron, from the looks of things – one of those rides where they spin you around so quickly that you can stick to the walls.

Marinette tugs her shirt up to cover her mouth and nose (Tim quickly shifts the camera upwards at the sight of the barest sliver or midriff with mumbles of ‘demonetization’) and spray paints the words ‘Marinette and Tim were here’.

She looks at it for a moment, seemingly thinking hard, before adding a tiny heart next to their names.

Tim groans. “You’re going to make the shippers freak out.”

Her shirt falls away from her face when she tips her head back in a laugh, and she tosses the can into a nearby trash can. It thumps against something inside, but no pissed-off animals come seeking revenge, so they pay this no mind.

“You can always cut it out in editing.”

“Mmmm trueeeeee,” he says, humming thoughtfully. “But I’d prefer not to. Engagement, you know?”

She gives a little hum of her own before leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

His face flushes pink. “What was that for?”

“Engagement.”

He gasps and presses the back of his hand to his forehead, like a Victorian woman who is about to faint over a couch because she happened to catch sight of a collarbone. “Oh of course it’s for the views and not for me,” he pretends to pout.

She grins widely, opening her mouth to respond, but it seems that they are not allowed to enjoy themselves and have fun.

For, in that second, the carnival whirrs to life.

Lights, muted and strangely speckled due to the accumulation of years of grime, shine down on them. The speakers crackle to life, playing songs they hadn’t heard in years. The rides creak as their rusty gears are forced into motion once again.

If you, dear viewer, pay close enough attention, you can see the exact moment the light in their eyes dies.

It coincides pretty well with the lights in the park flicking on.

Hence why paying close attention is vitally important.

Needless to say, the kids are stressed. Probably because the abandoned amusement park does not seem all that abandoned anymore.

“Any chance we tripped a motion sensor somewhere?” Marinette asks.

Tim looks like he has accidentally swallowed a lemon. “Uh… I don’t think that they would still be working after this long…”

“Great! Great. That’s what I thought, too,” Marinette says, her voice squeaking in a way that suggests she does not, in fact, think it is great.

“But – but! There is always an explanation for supernatural phenomena,” Tim says, though he is eyeing the contraption warily. It is hard to tell who he is comforting – Marinette, or himself. Hopefully himself, seeing as he was utterly failing to calm down Marinette. “Noxious fumes causing hallucinations, confirmation bias, a trick done by living people for the sake of monetary gain (a la Scoobert Doo), the wind...”

“You know, at some point this loops around to being in denial,” Marinette mumbles, pressing so close to his side that it starts to look like she is trying to meld with him.

“Shut up,” is all he can manage in retort.

There is a loud bang nearby and the pair of teens scream. Their heads spin on a swivel, and the video is briefly impossible to watch without getting sick. By the time things stabilize, the teens have come up with a solution. Marinette points at the big top, the largest and most instantly recognizable building. It’s the only place that would provide proper cover.

Not that that would do that much good against a ghost, but you have to at least try to survive in situations like these.

“There! C’mon!”

Tim makes a vague sound of protest, but Marinette is already running, and he is dragged along for the ride.

Perhaps that is not the best phrasing, since a kiddie ride they pass screeches off the rails, and they only barely stop in time to avoid getting run over by a roller coaster car.

The ghost is hot on their heels.

Marinette and Tim hop the car, adrenaline fueling them, their feet thudding against the dirt.

Neon lights spark and shatter overhead, raining sparks and gas down upon them.

Marinette’s shirtsleeve catches, and Tim is quick to put it out for her, because she doesn’t even seem to notice, too focused on helping him into the circus tent.

It is as if they have walked into another world. A kinder one, without weird ghosts that are trying to kill them for intruding upon the place they had once died. It is blissfully dark, the only sound their own ragged breathing. After all the bright lights and loud sounds and near murder attempts, it is nice.

Electricity whirrs.

A spotlight blares down on them, briefly, a clear I know you’re here, before it slides away, down to its natural resting position in the middle of the tent.

Now, you may know I am here, too.

A man in a torn circus uniform sits in the spotlight, sobbing into his hands. A tarp lay stretched beneath the long-since broken trapeze, almost mockingly, as if the ghost is making a joke about how easily avoidable their deaths had been, if only they had used a net that night. The dust they had kicked up upon entering catches in the spotlight, making it look as if the air itself is reacting to the ghost, dancing with shimmering lights.

Marinette is physically shaking by this point, her nails digging into Tim’s arm hard enough to draw blood. Tim doesn’t look much better, either, his face an ashy gray color.

Red pools in the sand the ghost kneels in.

“... wait,” Tim breathes.

He moves as if to take a step forward, but Marinette is still holding onto him, and she clearly has no intentions of getting any closer to the ghost.

Tim meets her eyes.

“Trust me.”

She bites her lip, but when he moves again she allows herself to be pulled with him.

They make their way down the steps.

He moves to make his way over the railing and jump down into the sand pit, but the lights flicker and go out.

The hand Marinette has on him is the only thing that stops him from braining himself on the ground. He wouldn’t have died, probably, but it still would have been quite an embarrassing moment to have caught on camera.

When the lights turn back on, Tim sends her a grateful smile.

Marinette doesn’t return it. Her eyes are locked on where the ghost is.

Or, was.

She doesn’t seem much more relieved by the lack of it.

Tim jumps down and helps her come down after him. Slowly, they make their way over to where the ghost had been.

He crouches to squint at the pool of blood. Marinette gags and drags her shirt up to cover her mouth and nose again. Tim looks like he very much wants to do the same, but he has other things he needs to do, first. He rifles through his backpack, his eyes never leaving the ground.

“Tim…” she says, quietly. “We should go.”

He sends her a hesitant smile. “I want a sample of this.”

He pulls out a flashlight and points it out into the darkness provided by the tarp.

There stands the ghost.

Well, it isn’t a ghost. A ghost wouldn’t cringe away from a sudden bright light being shone into their eyes. Nor would it be wearing stage makeup.

The grimy-looking clothes check out, though. A+ for effort on that, that trapeze outfit definitely looks like someone died in it.

The man glances behind himself briefly, as if considering running, before his shoulders slump in clear defeat.

He groans. “What gave it away?”

Tim points at the blood on the ground. “It should be dry by now.”

“It’s –? I’m supposed to be a ghost? The blood being wet is not the most unbelievable part?”

There was a long beat of silence.

“Oh,” says Tim.

The man – Dick Grayson, the sole surviving member of the Flying Graysons – looks like he wants to scream. Which he does, but not in the traditional way: “Jay! Cass! Come out!”

Two people step out into the light, looking just as irritable about the whole situation.

They, too, are wearing ratty clothes.

Oh. Praise revoked. The clothes are not a Choice. They are simply poor.

Marinette groans and slumps into Tim, burying her face in his shoulder as if she can’t bear to see the world anymore. He loops his arm around her, dragging her ever closer.

“Ready to stop believing that ghosts are real, yet?” Tim teases softly.

She groans. Again. Louder. She beats her fist against his chest, but there is no real power or anger behind it.

And then she fixes the three homeless people with a tired look. “I understand why you’re doing this and all… like, the economy sucks, get that bag – or free housing, I guess… but…”

There is a long string of beeps as Marinette lets loose a frankly impressive number of swears. It’s doubly impressive when one remembers that she isn’t even speaking in her first language. Go her. Clearly, she took her English lessons very seriously.

When she finally feels better, she flashes a smile and sticks her hand out for the second guy to shake.

“Hi! I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

The guy looks confused, but he shakes it.

The video cuts abruptly. The three homeless people are waving them off as Tim and Marinette head back to his car. The viewers would never get to know exactly what was said that day, but it seems they're leaving each other on well-enough terms.

“Sucks that we went through all of that just to not be able to post any of it,” she sighs. “The GCPD would probably arrest them or something.”

“Nah, it’s fine. We can just cut around it and say it was a front for the mafia. The police hate the poor, but they won't mess with organized crime. Because a lot of them are in it.”

“Oh! Great!” she says. Her tone seems to be almost sarcastic. Almost, because why would it be? It is a great plan.

“I’ll keep the real footage on my Patreon, though. My journalistic credibility shall not be marred.” He winks at the camera. “Say hi to the Patreon viewers.”

While she does lift her hand in a vague wave, she does not seem particularly soothed by his words. Perhaps because his ‘journalistic integrity’ was not at all what she had been concerned about.

“Alright, now, we need to convince the nonpaying viewers that we are scared out of our minds because of mafia b.s., so put on your best concerned face.”

Marinette looks at him.

“Perfect! And we’re rolling again!” He turns to address the camera, all wide eyes and frantic hand movements. “Okay, so, it turns out this place is a mafia hideout. Who knew?”

Marinette’s lips begin to twitch into a slight smile at his antics. “Well, I’m going back to France in a few days, so this is not my problem.”

He gasps. “You’re going to leave me here to die?! After all we’ve been through?!”

“Yep.”

Tim looks devastated.

She giggles. “Fine, fine, I’ll stuff you in my backpack and you can come with me.”

He lights back up again instantly. “Ohmygod! We can have The Gotham Files: World Tour!”

“Mmmm, I only live in France,” Marinette points out, which certainly makes the ‘World Tour’ seem less than stellar all of a sudden.

Tim takes it in stride, though. “The Gotham Files: France Tour!”

She rolls her eyes, but her smile is nothing but fond. “Nice save.”

“I know. I’m kind of awesome.”

“And always right!” she adds, in the kind of tone that suggests they’ve joked like this before many times offscreen.

“And always right,” he agrees, nodding along, sage in his always right-ness.

“Except…” Marinette says, smirking. “You were almost convinced about the ghosts for a second there. I think that means that, somewhere, you know the supernatural exists.”

He doesn’t rise to the bait. He shrugs lazily. “I just think that, if ghosts were real and could affect our reality in any meaningful way, white people just wouldn’t exist anymore.”

It is quiet for a solid nine seconds.

Marinette has stopped walking. Tim slows, turns to look at her, mildly concerned.

“Mari –?”

“Fuck, maybe ghosts don’t exist.”

The video ends.

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

Chapter 3

#maribat #timari #timinette #shutterbug #timmari #tim drake #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #have you never heard of such a thing darling?

12 notes · View notes

poisonouswritings · 2 years

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M4 JEALOUSY HEADCANONS!! Fluffy,angsty,soft,whatever you decide! All I could ask for is them to be long if you could make them? Not necessary tho! I just personally like reading long headcanon lists/writings

GN!Reader, I will try to make it long but we'll see how it goes, pre-relationship, I added songs!! Listen to my shitty music tastes or perish!!! /j

Felix Escellun

Pouty boy pouty boy pouty boy

Somehow I feel like Felix is actually the least jealous!! But he is the most scandalized!!!

He's more self-confident than his initial 'dredging for spirits in this veritable backwater' rant would make you think. He's been in a successful long-term relationship (aside from the whole death thing) so he kinda knows how to be self-assured and everything.

But Felix is a little bit of a Gremlin™ and he just has a flair for the dramatic.

Someone starts trying to chat you up and Felix literally just grabs your hand and drags you away because He's Still Working Up The Courage To Ask You Out Give Him A Couple Days

I just think it genuinely is funny if like,, he grabs your hand, laces your fingers together and says Listen, Dear, He Has Something He Wants To Ask You. But He Has To Prepare Himself. Can You Trust Him On This? You Can? Splendid!

And I mean yeah he's blushing the entire time but he's also leaps and bounds ahead of the other three so like

Good for Felix. You get it king. Take your time you have some trauma to work through and realizations to dawn on

He gets you guys matching jewelry or something and you wear it in public so that way when someone hits on you and Felix comes over and the person sees you guys are matching

they get the idea and back off

and Felix is just giving this little evil cat smile

(i'm specifically picturing this specific face)

I just love Felix being a chaotic little shit please

That's not to say he doesn't have insecurities. There are plenty of times he wonders if you'd be better off if he stopped pursuing you so someone else could. Maybe someone who's smarter or stronger. Maybe someone who wouldn't let their partner die in battle

,,, yeah he still needs to work through his grief over Rime.

but he is determined!!

And you know better than anyone that when Felix wants something, he will spend however long it takes to get it/reach the point he needs to reach. You being in Astraea is living proof of that.

In public he likes to (gently) take your elbow and/or hand.

Would he use magic to casually drop the trousers of someone who's oggling you? yeah. He would.

He's petty and also he's a little bit of a prankster so like He Will Take Any Opportunity To Cause Chaos

But ultimately he really is the least jealous. Except for if/when Scylla starts flirting then he's throwing hands

Song for him would be,, for some reason I almost wanna say Cooler Than Me by Mike Posner ?? Does that even count as a jealousy song tho? I think it does.

Anisa Anka

I just wanna mention once again how much I love Anisa

Anyways

This is when Anisa is still trying to maintain some professional boundaries so she's extra jealous because she likes you and she feels like she can't do anything about it >:(

Angy Annie >:( with her hair all poofy and her face all red and her nose all scrunched in frustration

Saaros just snickering into their journal because they already know what's gonna happen and it makes the buildup funnier

You guys are out at the market and someone offers you a free sample and you're like Oh Thanks!! and Anisa casually grabs it and is like Oh I'll Feed It To You So Your Hands Don't Get Dirty :) like okay Annie thank you baby love you

Someone doesn't even hit on you,, like you're wearing your cosplay (aka Starsworn uniform) and someone comes up and compliments you!! Because it's well made and looks nice y'know? And you guys are having a conversation about sewing techniques and types of fabric or whatever because this person is trying to make their own outfit or something and Anisa is just casually sliding into the conversation because Hey She Knows About Fabric Too! And she can totally impress you with her fabric skills :)

Anisa is just,, a little competitive? Like yes in general but also after everything with her father she feels like she needs to prove that she's worthy of affection and love so like

She's Squaring Up but in a respectful and knightly way

You guys are out walking or whatever and she notices some people looking at you and she offers you her arm because Oh She's Supposed To Be Your Escort In This Strange World You've Found Yourself In And She's Just Being Polite :)

Saaros lagging like ten steps behind you guys and they're just gagging into their journal because Holy Fucking Shit Can You Guys Just Get Together Already This Is Horrible For Them

Someone does hit on you and Anisa is just Throwing Off Hate Vibes right behind you.

But then as soon as you turn around to face her she's all smiley sunshine because she's supportive!

And you turn back around to face the other person and she is once again immediately back in Rage Mode.

Anisa is shy about touching you but she doesn't mind touching your outfit. So you can constantly find her adjusting your cloak and brushing off your shoulders and generally giving you lil touches.

I just think it's funny if you know what she's doing but she's still playing innocent.

If you do start hitting on someone then she'll stand aside (though she does linger nearby just in case things get dangerous) and not interfere.

Oh me oh my, my sweet self-loathing tropes, poor Anisa is bothered and beating herself up. Not particularly for not making a move on you (since she's still trying to be professional and respect boundaries) but for falling for you in the first place when she knows she can't have you. She tries to tell herself it's better this way, that you deserve someone who's strong and brave and honest. Someone who hasn't lied to the world with every breath they draw. Someone who doesn't have darkness in their DNA.

But it still hurts.

And if you go on dates?? I'm not saying she and Saaros are gonna discreetly follow along under the guide of wanting you to be safe but it's really so Annie can torture herself and be sad, but I am saying that you can clearly see that Anisa is wearing a really terrible wig and Saaros is just super boredly pushing an ice cube around the table and watching it melt.

The day after she asks how your date went and at this point you're kinda just messing with her so you start talking about it with a heart-eyes voice (whatever that would sound like) and she's just,,,

'🙃 oh MC I'm so glad you had such a lovely time' and on the inside she is Not Okay

If she had access to Spotify I think she'd be listening to like,,, Her by Dodie. Just very kinda 'this person means everything to me but they don't see me in the same way and it sucks but i love them anyways' type of vibes.

Saaros is in the background just waiting for everything to fall into place so Anisa can stop moping

Sage Lesath

I think Sage is my favorite to write jealousy stuff before because I absolutely love seeing anti-attachment (playboy-esque) characters getting an emotional pipe to the knees when they realize that not only are they in love, but they have no idea what to do about it because it's never happened before, and also they're forced to address their own self-worth issues and they just fuckin crumble a little. Little bit. Itty bitty bit.

Anyways let's talk about the fact that he brings you to the bar kinda often (since he spends a lot of time there) and you get hit on!! Probably at least once every time you guys go out! And every time it happens Sage is just >:(

I think,, that,,, Sage would be the kind of guy to where someone is hitting on you and he just casually slides up and throws an arm around your shoulders and be like :3 Hai :3 What Do You Want With My MC :3 Yeah That's Right They're Mine Back The Fuck Off :3 like he doesn't say it but he has that energy.

Does Sage realize how hypocritical it is for him to be jealous when he has his reputation? Yes.

But that's the other thing, I think that if you were to like,, have sex with someone,, he wouldn't really mind. What he is bothered by is the idea that you might meet someone better than him and then you'll realize how horrible he is and you'll leave him

Do I think Sage has abandonment issues? Yes. Actually I think all the Starsworn have some degree of abandonment issues but that's neither here nor there

Since Sage is a regular at the bar (or at least a lot of people know him) I think he might even like,, tell people to keep their greasy hands off you,,, not because you're his or anything (he's painfully aware that you aren't) but because 1. a lot of the people here are like him, aka they're horrible drunks, and 2. because you're going out to enjoy a drink, not deal with shitty pick-up lines

It's his job to tell you shitty pick-up lines

No but back to what I was saying I think Sage is constantly touching you. Arm around your shoulders, shoulder pressed against yours, knees bumping under the table.

If he's drunk and someone comes to talk to you he just growls and softly headbutts your arm because He Is A Cat And You Need To Give Him Attention Already !!! but he doesn't actually talk. He just makes little noises.

Listen okay cats will scent marks things that make them feel safe/comfortable and so Sage is constantly scent-marking you so that other ilephtas don't try anything. And since he's constantly touching you somehow his fur gets all over you and that sends the message to humans. Especially when he's next to you all the time.

If you start flirting with someone, then Sage won't interfere. He wants you to have fun and do your own thing. He'll swallow his jealousy as much as he possibly can but he also,, might,,, not be able to stay in the room. If you talk to him about it afterwards he'll try really hard to be supportive and make jokes about it and whatever but on the inside he just feels all twisted up in his tummy.

Ultimately he wants you to be happy,, he's just,,, sad that it couldn't be him.

Spends the entire day sulking a little bitty bit

Possibly in your bed. I've said it before and I'll say it every time it's relevant, I think that Sage (as a cat) finds your scent comforting and when he's upset he kinda just goes into your room and mopes. Has the added benefit of getting his fur everywhere on your bed because he's petty like that.

And then you get back to Fathom like 'Oh I met my friend's partner and they're super sweet they're such a cute couple' and Sage immediately regains +10000 happy points

He refuses to acknowledge that he's jealous. When Tulsi asks him about it, he innocently says that he's just looking out for you and wants to keep you safe!! He is a Good Wholesome Boi!! :3

Tulsi honestly isn't sure whether Sage realizes how transparent he is or not. She ultimately decides he isn't because he's really stupid and stubborn.

His song would be Bad Love by Halsey or Hey Jealousy by Gin Blossoms

Rime Varela

Okay anon but what if I,, like,,,, like instead of making this about you and Rime (as a traditional M4 post would be) what if I made it about Rime being jealous of you because he still loves Felix?? Cause I could do that. I won't. But I could. Maybe I should.

And in that very particular vein, his song would be When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars

'Oh Oz why don't you do both?' because I don't have enough brain cells to do that!! I'm a chronic idiot!!! Don't expect too much from me, friends, that's the lesson here.

Anyways let's circle back to the actual prompt!!

Between Anisa, Sage, and Rime, I actually can't decide who has the most self-loathing. But I think that it initially comes through the strongest with Rime because at this point (since it's pre-relationship we can assume it's before LoS has announced his re-emergence) he's the only one that knows LoS is alive and planning something.

I'm,, really,,, really upset we're not getting a Rime route. Not even because of the romance but because I want to know more about his (working) relationship with LoS and just,, how that happened. Like did Felix's spell actually work at all or was it entirely just LoS that brought him back? I actually do not know. Maybe it's mentioned in Felix's route but right now I can't remember so like,, I I dunno. Not really the point.

The point I'm making is that not only does Rime have jealousy problems, he also has a lot of self-hatred because he's evil and obviously you deserve better than that so he's like,, not having a great time with these feelings. Especially since his initial thing was like,, killing you?? And then he falls in love with you and it's like Fuck.

Once he accepts that he's in love with you and wants to ask you out then he's punched in the face by the fact that, Oh Yeah, You Have Suitors

I mean,,, i mean,,,,,, didn't dev call Rime a yandere several times before,,,,,,,,,,,,,, and i know i don't really do yandere stuff but like,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

*Rime pulls out a knife*

no Rime put it away

*Rime reluctantly puts it away*

Sorry I had to get all 2010s Wattpad for a second there because that's the last time I wrote yandere stuff and Yes, It Was Cringe

Anyways Rime probably does have some passing thoughts of violence but no he's not actually gonna do anything. Maybe I'll do a legitimate yandere thing if someone asks nicely but not today

Rime is just angrily and confusedly vibrating in the corner because What Does He Even Do About This Situation. You guys are supposed to be enemies.

Someone is hitting on you and Rime just casually tells them to Fuck Off Or Perish

That's just his attitude in general

Rime,,, who still has feelings for Felix but also loves you,,, you and Felix are dating,,,,, he doesn't even know who he's more jealous of,,,,,,,,,,,,

Song would be When It Was Me by Paula De Anda

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heartz4wonnie · 1 year

Text

11:11 make a wish

jungwon imagine

fluff.the tiniest bit of angst.enemies to lovers.school au

featuring: beomgyu txt, yunjin leserrafim, and danielle new jeans

definitely over 3k words im so sorry y’all

Yang Jungwon. You hated him. Everything about him was triggering to you. Everybody knew you hated him, including him, but no one could understand why. Jungwon was class president, he was extremely active in school activities and was constantly socializing with others around him. He was part of the soccer team and was an ‘A’ student in every subject. The boys were jealous of his grades and style, while the girls fell for his charms and dimpled smile. But it was all an act and you knew it. How could someone as despicable as Jungwon be so loved by all?

It all started back in middle school. You were a new student in a whole new country and had no clue what you were doing. Your slightly stained sneakers squeaked against the hallway floors as you made your way to your classroom. You balled up your sweaty palms and knocked lightly against the door.

“Oh! You must be y/n, welcome, come in!”

You could hear the murmur of the classmates as you made your way inside the colorful sunlit classroom.

“We have a new student?”

“Where is she from?”

“She’s so pretty!”

You stood awkwardly at the front of the class not knowing what to do with yourself. The teacher made her way over to you and placed a gentle hand on the small of your back.

“I’m Mrs. Choi, and this is class 31B. Would you please introduce yourself to the class?”

You froze. You weren’t expecting to have to do this in front of everybody. This wasn’t what you were used to and it instantly made you nervous.

“Um, hello everybody! M-my name is y/n. Please take c-care of me.”

You heard a snicker from across the room and that’s when you saw him for the first time. Yang Jungwon. He was sitting alone with his arms crossed, elbows rested on the table in front of him. He was laughing to himself staring right at you. Immediately you felt a rush of emotions. In your 12 years of life you have never seen a boy this cute before. You thought his black hair fell perfectly across his forehead, and his eyes were the biggest you’ve ever seen. But what got you the most were those dimples. You felt as if you could drown in them. That’s a lot of emotions for an 12 year old. Mrs. Choi’s voice snapped you out of your trance.

“Jungwon, let’s try to be polite. Y/n is nervous. It’s her first day.”

With this Jungwon rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair so that his back is touching it. His arms are still crossed except this time, he looks annoyed. You are beyond excited you now know this boy’s name. Mrs. Choi turns to you and smiles.

“Y/n dear, you can sit next to Jungwon. It’s the only seat open.”

Nodding you make you way to his desk and pull out the chair to sit next to him. As Mrs. Choi continues her lesson, you keep looking over at Jungwon trying to make eye contact with him.

“I should at least talk to him, I want to be his friend.” You thought to yourself

“If you keep staring like that your eyes will bulge out of their sockets and roll off the table”

Shocked your eyes widen

“See? it’s happening already.” he says, a slight smirk growing on his face

You stuck out your hand “I’m y/n. Could we be friends?”

He stared at your hand with a blank expression. “I already know your name. Honestly I’m quite surprised I even heard you with the amount of stuttering you were doing up there”

Defeated you frowned and let your hand drop down into your lap. “Do you have to be so rude?”

He looked up at you and furrowed his eyebrows “Well no one asked you to be nice.”

As each day, week, month, and year passes by you spent your time in middle school studying, but also making your best efforts to become friends with jungwon. He came off a little rude yes, but you believed he was a kind person deep down. You knew he had a heart. And yours was longing for him. But after trying and trying and trying and only getting cold harsh responses in return, you decided to give it one last shot during eighth grade graduation. But as you watched him walk away from you, the flowers you’ve given him discarded on the floor, you decided from this point on, you hated Yang Jungwon.

The both of you are in your final year of highschool now. With graduation around the corner your stress levels have been slowly building up. You feel as if you can barely catch up in school and the chances of you graduating is on the line.

“You’re being so dramatic y/n my grades are even worse than yours and you don’t see ME freaking out do you?”

Beomgyu and you became friends in freshman year of high school. He was a new student and reminded you of yourself. You went up to converse with him and the two of you instantly clicked.

“Beomgyu, that’s different. i WANT to graduate. you don’t care.” you say burying you hands in your hair as you look over you schedule that’s currently overflowing with workload.

Yunjin snickers “I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen beomgyu actually take school seriously”

“Right.” Danielle agrees

Dani and Yunjin picked you up from the crowd of high schoolers to join their chatotic duo two years ago. You later introduced them to Beomgyu and the four of you have been inseparable ever since.

“You guys are literally only ganging up on me because i’m the only guy here.” Beomgyu pouts

“Cmon guys,” you say as you pick up your books and stuff as much of your lunch as you can into your mouth and swallowing before finishing your sentence “let’s go, we can’t be late for English.”

You dreaded English class the most. Not because of the actual lessons. English is the class you’re actually excelling. What makes you hate the class is because it’s the only class you share with Jungwon. Ever since your failed confession, left feeling upset and humiliated in the field, you never spared him another glance. You stopped talking to him completely. He never acknowledged you either, and as much as you hated him it still made you a little upset. Sitting at your desk, you completely tuned out the teacher as he talked about your final for this year.

“…it is worth 50% of your grade this year and is a partner project.” You perked up at this. The class also livens and students start to chatter excitedly. Immediately you look over at beomgyu, who was already looking at you. You two made a great pair when it came to projects.

“Not so fast everyone, the partners have already been decided.” The class groans out of annoyance and even you feel a little disappointed. If you don’t work with, Gyu there is no way you’re going to do good on this project. You and Beomgyu have gotten used to each other, and have a certain way of doing things. You look over at him slightly pouting and he mouths to you cursing the teacher, which makes you smile a little.

The teacher starts reading out the list of students and you cross your fingers praying for a miracle.

“Y/n and..”

You’re practically sweating at this point pleading in you head. “please say beomgyu please say beomgyu please say beomgyu”

“jungwon”

Your eyes shoot open. You look over at him to find him sitting there just as shocked as you were. Jungwon looked over and locked eyes with you and you quickly looked away. It’s been years since you’ve last looked into his eyes, and even if it was for a split second..your heart flipped.

You sat in your chemistry class zoning out as your lab partner did your experiment. You couldn’t believe what just happened. Almost four whole years of completely ignoring jungwon and here you were, as his partner in english. You were upset. This was definitely going to be awkward. Just thinking about it made your stomach turn and you quickly raised your hand. Your teacher looked at you and raised her brow.

“Uh, may I please use the restroom?” The teacher nods gesturing for you to grab the hall pass before reminding you to quickly return. You walked down the hallway lost in your thoughts. You weren’t really using the bathroom, you just wanted to take this chance to take a walk and give yourself a break. Thinking about what just happened twenty minutes ago was really adding onto your stress. As you rounded the corner you bumped into someone.

“Oh my god I am so sorr-“

Your mouth drys as you see who it is. No longer apologetic you straighten yourself up.

“It’s fine..aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?” Jungwon asks

You’re taken aback. He’s so different now. How could speak to you so casually? But besides that Jungwon has changed a lot more than you thought. In the past few years, jungwon has grown taller and now stands almost a head taller than you. His shoulders are broad and his aura is confident. He smiles a little at you. That’s new. You weren’t used to him being so nice towards you. However, you caught the familiar dents in his cheeks and it makes your heart swell.

Clearing your throat you reply. “That’s not any of your business. If anything I should be asking you the same question.” He chuckles lightly at this.

“Alright that’s fair.” He holds up a stack of papers. “Mr. Kim asked me to go make some copies”

You looked at him and responded “Ok. I’m gonna get going now.”

He grabs your wrist and says “Hold on, could I get your number?” Your eyes widen and you pull your wrist from his grip.

“Jungwon I don’t know who you think you are but if you think I still like you after all these years you’re wrong.” Jungwon blinks at you confused. You could swear his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“Ok, that wasn’t what I was trying to bring up. I need your number for the project. It’s an after school thing. Mr. Park isn’t giving us any class time to work on it in school” Now it was your turn to be confused. It’s an after school project? You wish you would’ve paid better attention.

“Oh. Alright fine here. sorry.” You ask for his phone and he placed it in your hand. You type in your number and give it to him walking away. When you’re sure you’re far enough away you let out a huge breath. What just happened? What confused you the most was how different jungwon was. He wasn’t rude and snobby, he didn’t reject your conversation, heck he even initiated it. You almost couldn’t believe it.

Jungwon texted you that night asking to meet during the weekend to start the project. You agreed reluctantly and immediately belly flopped onto your bed groaning into your pillow. You’ve avoided and ignored him all this time but now that he’s being nice to you, your feelings are starting to come back. You hate it.

The week past by unfortunately fast, and before you know it, you’re standing in front of Jungwon’s door. Your hands were once again sweaty and hanging at your sides, your backpack all of a sudden feeling like it’s weighing you down. After waiting what felt like hours but was really only two minutes. You could hear his footsteps on the stairs as he ran down and opened the door facing you. He was wearing a navy blue hoodie and black sweats. His hair was slightly messy and you resisted the urge to reach out and touch it.

Before he could say anything however, a little white dog came running up to you, pouncing around your legs panting with excitement. You giggle and bend down a little to pet him. “Hello there cutie! Who are you?”

Jungwon smiles at the sight and squats down next to you. “His name is Maeumi, looks like he likes you.” You can barely respond not because of the insane beating of you heart having Jungwon so close to you after so long, but because Maeumi is ALL OVER YOU. He’s licking you, jumping on you, and practically begging to get picked up. So that’s exactly what you do. You’re so distracted you almost forget you’re supposed to hate Jungwon because after what felt like forever you looked at him and gave him a genuine smile. He smiled back, his dimples flashing and his eyes turning into crescents. You eventually snap back into it as you realize you have a project to work on. Quickly kissing the dog on the head you set him down and turn to Jungwon.

“So, ahem. where are we gonna work on this project?” you looked at him as he fidgeted slightly. “My parents need the living room and the kitchen soon so I was thinking my room?”

You gulped. This was the first time you were ever spending time alone with a boy in his room. Let alone that boy being Jungwon. Despite feeling the heat crawling up to your cheeks, you calmy respond. “sure.”

Yang Jungwon’s room was just like him. Neat, organized, and comfortable. Everything in his room was lined up and his bed was completely made. Soccer posters and academic awards sprinkled his walls and a small dog bed in the corner was littered with toys and blankets.

“For some reason I never expected your room to be so neat.” You commented. Jungwon laughs a little and you find yourself almost melting. This wasn’t the plan.

“The more you know I guess.” He continues to smile as he gets out his supplies and invites you to sit down on the floor across from him. For the next few hours you guys worked on your project, talked, and even joked around. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have fun with him. You enjoyed his presence and was surprised Jungwon turned out to become such an incredible guy. As the evening neared the both of you relocated. You sitting criss crossed on his bed, and jungwon at his desk playing video games. You two decided to take a small break before resuming the project, and you couldn’t help but feel sleepy. Your eyelids were getting heavy as you listened to jungwon clack away at his keyboard, and felt the gentle breeze of the AC.

You don’t know when you fell asleep but you did. You sat up in a panic seeing it was already dark outside. You looked around and saw that you were tucked under the sheets with your shoes taken off. As you got up and started packing up your things getting ready to leave, jungwon entered his room.

“Oh, you’re up? i saw you sleeping and you looked too comfortable I didn’t want to wake you. I took off your shoes and tucked you in. I hope you don’t mind.” Jungwon awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck while he was explaining this to you and you giggled

“It’s okay I should get going.” Jungwon nods but stops you.

“Hold on sorry it’s a bit messy downstairs right now..do you mind if i just clean up a little? it won’t take long.” you smile at him and nod. “ of course do whatever you need.”

You set down your bag as you sat on the edge of his bed, looking around and taking in the day. You had the best time with jungwon today. Jungwon. If you told that to yourself a few years back you’d be repulsed. You laughed to yourself at the thought that you might actually still love jungwon. Pushing off of his bed you got up to look around his room some more. In a swift movement you accidentally knocked down a small jar.

“dang it.” you always cursed yourself for being so clumsy. As you bent down to pick up what was in the jar, you gasped at the discovery of what they were. Back when you were in middle school, chasing around jungwon like crazy, you wrote him little sticky notes for a month, hoping he’d get the hint. You did it know he KEPT them all this time. Stuffing them back in the jar and placing it back where it was, you sat back down with a fluttering sensation in your chest. Did Jungwon like you too?

It’s been a few weeks with Jungwon, and you were happy. So happy. He was so friendly and kind, and there was so much to learn about him it felt like a new aspect was added everytime you guys hung out. It was late one night and you stayed over for dinner. His parents were just as lovely as him and you had a great time. As the night passed the two of you layed out on the grass of his backyard and stared up at the stars.

“I’ve had fun with you these past few weeks y/n” Jungwon suddenly says. You look at him a little surprised. You eventually break out into a smile and say, “I’ve had fun with you too jungwon.” Jungwon suddenly pushes himself up and grabs your hands to pull you with him. He keeps holding onto your hands as he says “Y/n, i’m sorry being a jerk in the past. My life wasn’t great back then, and I was really alone. You coming up to me and asking to be my friend it…” You squeezed his hand “You don’t have to keep going jungwon-ah” He smiled at you his eyes a little sad. “let me finish my apology will you.” You laughed and nodded.

“It made me feel seen y/n. You were the first person to see me as me for the longest time and I was nothing but a complete jerk to you. For that, I’m sorry.” You smiled and caressed his cheek. He leaned into your touch listening as you said “I hated you for a while to be honest. I never really let go of the rejection you gave..” at this his smiled faltered but you kept yours to let him know it was okay. “But after spending time with you i’ve realized the person you were isn’t the person you are now.” Jungwon leans in to hug you and you replicate the action placing your arms around him. You pull away after a few short seconds and he pouts a little wanting more.

“Jungwon, do you remember that note I wrote to you that said ‘last night at 11:11 I wished for you’?” He nods but then sits up a little taken aback. “You know I kept them?” You smiled to yourself before responding “I may or may not somehow have found out.” He squinted his eyes playfully and poked at your cheek. “yes I remember. why?” You held up your phone and turned it on, displaying a glowing 11:11 on your screen. Jungwon smiled. “Quick! 11:11 make a wish!” you said, eyes practically glowing. Jungwon looked you in the eye before saying “my wish is you.” You froze and could practically feel how red you were becoming.

It was silent for a moment before Jungwon pulled you in close by the waist, pausing for a moment to look at you and ask, “is it okay if i kiss you?” you smiled and shyly nodded. Jungwon pulled you in and your lips connected in a sweet kiss. Nothing. Nothing could beat this. And from that day forward you decided, you will love Yang Jungwon.

#enha fluff #enhypen #enhypen x female reader #yang jungwon #imagine #kpopidol #heeseung #jake sim #jay park #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #ni ki enhypen #fanfic #cute

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italoniponic · 2 years

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

@glamorousruins: "If it's alright to request something still.. how about a short story about the reader taking Riddle rollerskating? It's very odd but I think it would be funny to see him trying something new like that!! I think it's cute to imagine him trying out something new (albeit he's nervous too) with the reader who may tend to be cheeky?"

| Notes: Ruin is one of my first friends in the fandom so I ask him to request something for Riddle. He chose this scenario and yes, like we talked in private, it would be strange to have a rollerskating rink in the Sage Island. But for a friend, I might as well twist reality for what they needs lol

This one was so so cute and fun to make. Riddle is such a precious angry baby boy and we love him <3 Hope you like it, dear! Thanks for the request! <3

P.S: I'm sorry the title is weird |

Riddle Rosehearts x gender neutral cheeky reader / short-scenario / fluff / established relationship / 1522 words / use of "you" pronouns

Cherry's Harvesting event 🍒 Masterlist

You Got Riddle-rolled

“You... you can do it, Riddle…,” you managed to say even though you were holding back the laughter.

At the exact second, Riddle took a false step and fell on his ass on the hard wooden floor of the roller skating rink. It must have been the fourth or fifth time this had happened but Riddle didn't improve his landing yet. He let out an audible sigh as he let himself lay down, tired and aching.

He was beginning to regret accepting your invitation to go to the skating rink that opened downtown on Sage Island, the newest local sensation and a hit on Magicam. It was Cater’s personal recommendation and an excuse for you two to have a date and Riddle take a break from dorm leader duties.

It was a quiet Sunday, there weren’t so many people in the rink at that time. But the few people who were skating around you were beginning to feel sorry for Riddle. It was his first time skating, but in order not to embarrass himself in front of you, he was trying his best to keep a pose that he was learning something from all this — which wasn’t true.

It was somewhat reminiscent of the first time Riddle played a video game, courtesy of Ortho. So much information in such a short time and it took him several moves to complete the first phase without dying in the first few minutes. Maybe you both should have stayed in Heartslabyul and continued to play games.

You skated up to Riddle who hasn't moved since he fell. He was staring at the ceiling strangely because his helmet wouldn't let him touch the floor right and normally.

His elbow pads and anklets were beginning to crumple his well-starched white shirt and checkered the cherry red pants he was wearing. His bow tie was three more falls away from finally launching an arrow. But at least his vest was in order, protecting the slender torso of that young man who was never very good at sports things.

“I can hear you laughing, you know?,” Riddle grumbled. His face began to turn red.

“Even from that angle?,” you asked, hiding your mouth.

“One more word and I'll be off with your head!”

Such a threat echoed through the rink and frightened some people. But you just sighed and reached out to your boyfriend, accustomed to his temper. Since you were dealing with him calmly and courageously, no one dared to interfere with what you were doing.

With your help, Riddle leaned on one knee until he stood up again. He could complain that you were having too much fun at his expense, but he couldn't say that you didn't provide efficient support. And you also fall sometimes. It had been a while since you went to a rink in your world, so you were rusty in your skills.

The difference is: when you fell, you started laughing. Riddle didn’t quite understand this. It was as if you weren’t ashamed of these misfortunes, as if the world didn’t exist around you.

“Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it,” you looked him in the eye, making that promise with a sweet smile. “I'm here with you.”

The same lack of pride or wealth of it that made you capable of saying things like that. Riddle felt his face turn even more violently red, as if someone had thrown a can of paint on his head. He already asked you to control the timing of those sentences. But it was as if you were amused by the simple way in which you could make his heart race.

Well, you also had to reap some of what you planted because, in a sudden attempt to get away from you, Riddle skidded backwards but the wheels threw him off balance and you both dismounted on your knees like two afternoon biscuits for the 5pm tea.

Your faces were closer than before because you leaned together to maintain a little balance. At least, as “close” as the helmets could let you get. That accident scared you and almost made you lose your pose. But you knew how to pull yourself together quickly and make up for these moments.

“Wow! If I didn't know you, Riddle…,” you held his elbows tight, watching him intently. “...I'd say you're skating like a horse just to fall and get closer to me.”

“That's not an accident! I m-mean! Yes! It's an accident...!,” suddenly Riddle’s blush was more out of anger than shame. “And I don't skate like a horse!”

“My bad.”

You offered your hand again and even angry and embarrassed, Riddle accepted again. Together, you got up and your boyfriend left you who was — just a bit — more experienced than him to conduct your skating. Your both skating’s slides softened and slowed down, going little by little. As it should have been from the very beginning.

“Get that little smile off your face,” Riddle ordered, annoyed.

“I'm not smiling…”

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye to check, however you turned your face away, feigning concentration on the path you were on. Bloody roses, of course you were smiling!

Sliding on the track, you lead Riddle as a soldier leads a queen — kinda debilitated? — to her garden of roses, always careful and attentive.

Riddle wasn’t the easy type who simply accepted being taken care of by others. After being extremely intelligent, his mother prioritized teaching him to be independent. Or have maximum independence within her rules. There were some basic things that Riddle didn't have much experience of, like cooking, that he was starting to learn.

But let someone take care of him? Almost never. He didn't even notice when Trey did things in advance so he didn't have to worry about anything. That's because being strong meant being a role model for Heartslabyul students. He was a symbol, a crown.

Perfect. Absolute. Impeccable.

“You know, you don't have to be perfect for me. Or make me proud,” you said suddenly.

Riddle listened to you in silence, giving a frustrated sigh in response. Yes, he knew that. You've talked a lot about it, and at some point, you'd get to that difficult part: acceptance.

It was hard for Riddle to stop and accept that there were things he was never going to be able to do and would have to figure out little by little. He couldn't even sit down and organize his weaknesses. He was discovering and accepting it day after day, as if he was growing up again. Well, he was. You never required him to be a full and experienced thirty-year-old man in the body of a short seventeen-year-old boy.

If Riddle Rosehearts was himself, you were satisfied. It was perfect and enough. You were discovering your limits together. Falling and rising together.

Even though he didn't say anything, he shook your hand. Riddle acknowledged that you two were in this together. In the small and big things, even when you had no means to help him concretely, you were by his side to support him. To say “I'm here” without saying it. Your presence was important, your company always motivating.

“I love you,” Riddle said, grateful. He whispered those words in your ear because there was no way to say it another way — well, you being side by side was at fault for that.

He just wanted to thank you for your kind words and your support, that's all.

But since he said that so suddenly and close to you, it was your turn to get scared and lose your balance. Because you were holding hands, you ended up taking him to the ground along with you. The other skaters have already resigned themselves to the fact that you were a clumsy couple.

Riddle ignored the pain in his leg, worried about you. Again, there wasn't much to do about the distance between you because he was accidentally pulled to fall on top of you. Two beautiful warm gray eyes stared at you, careful and protective. If he could take issue with the rink and its slippery wooden floor that needed better maintenance, he would.

You knew he would probably at the end of the date.

However, Riddle didn't even notice that you were blushing too. Your heart was pounding hard and fast. You could only do one thing to dissolve the tension:

“Riddle, calm down. We just came here to skate,” you said, looking away from your boyfriend.

It took him a moment to understand exactly what you were talking about. But by the time Riddle understood, his hand was already behind your neck, undecided whether to hold you or strangle you. You were testing his patience too much for someone who wasn't able to stand up at the moment.

On your next date, you two would be playing croquet just for you to swallow that silly grin of yours with the hedgehogs. A beautiful, fun smile that always makes Riddle feel lighter and more agitated all at the same time.

But still a stupid cheeky grin.

#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #gender neutral reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twst x reader #twst fluff #cherry's writing #cherry's harvesting

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sarahisslytherin · 2 years

Note

𝖗𝖚𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖚𝖕 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖑 - send in prompts from these lists [i,ii,iii, iv] and a character and i’ll write you a dialogue for it! (you can send multiple prompts per ask).

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” with rockstar!remus pls

the band has just finished their set, heading backstage instantly. you've been one of their sound technicians for a week or so, and you couldn't help but swoon whenever they were near. well, whenever remus was near.

his bass is still hanging from his lanky frame, his sandy hair plastered to his forehead and chest still heaving from the adrenaline.

you haven't eaten much today, too busy running around verifying all the equipment works properly for the boys' big concert. finally, you think. now you finally have a chance to get a bite. something flickers in your mind, telling you to ask remus to join you. maybe it's the high from the concert or maybe you’ve finally had enough of pining for him in silence. either way, you’re walking up to him and tapping his shoulder until he turns to face you, a giddy smile on his face.

“yes?” he asks, and you were sure you were going to say something. but then the room starts spinning, and you’re not so sure.

“hey, there.” remus coos gently as your eyes flutter open. you’re still a bit woozy but from what you can tell you’re in his trailer, the light bulbs bathing the room in warm hues. “how are you feeling, dear?”

“i’m alright.” you groan as you sit up on your elbows. “uh, what happened exactly?”

“you fainted…straight into my arms.” remus can’t help but chuckle. “you know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

humiliation washes over you as you cup your hand over your mouth. “shit, i’m sorry! i just, i hadn’t eaten much today cos i was so busy. i was gonna ask you if you wanted to grab a bite with me and then-then i fainted, i guess.”

remus’ nods in understanding, and an uneasy silence fills the room.

“does that offer still stand?” he asks shyly. “also, can you still stand?”

“yes.” you smile in return. “and also yes.”

#monique my internet mom #sarah's 1.5k follower mini celebration #closed celebration #remus lupin #rockstar!remus

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latibvles · 2 years

Text

SAD, BEAUTIFUL, TRAGIC.

beautiful, tragic. // hello and goodbye.

what happens when a crack beings to spiderweb?

masterlist | gallery | taglist

TAGLIST: @liebgotts-lovergirl , @monalisastwin

WARNINGS: none

SUMMARY: with a mind becoming more and more muddled — one has to wonder who takes care of the caretakers.

My dear Daisy,

There is nothing that makes me happier than knowing you aren’t alone out there. I asked your father, and he told me he hasn’t been to Tortworth Castle — perhaps when this is all settled, we can take a trip there as a family. I’m sure that under different circumstances, England would be lovely to visit. We are all well at home — busier than ever. The factories are full of women now — I might join up with them myself. Not for the extra money, but it’d be nice if our whole family was doing their part, I suppose.

I found this while I was going through our old family albums. If you ever catch Ronnie out there, I’m sure he’d love to see it too. Remember to write to your brother. Your father and I are so proud of you two, and we can’t wait until you three come home. God be with you always, sweetheart. I love you dearly.

Love, Mom

The photo is, for all intents and purposes, glaring at her. An old, grainy picture from 1938 — but she can make out every figure clear as day. On the left side, is her older brother. James’ graduation cap is slightly askew, his gown zipped all the way to the top. His fingers are curled around the black diploma. His smile is filled with excitement, he looks like a coke bottle with a mint dropped into it. Just a few more seconds and he’s bouncing off the walls. The girl in the middle is in a dress she bought just for the occasion. Her hair was curled — it was shorter back then, and it had taken all morning to do it. Just like the boy to her left, the girl’s smile is bright, but more contained in comparison. She hardly recognizes herself.

The boy on the right has his cap in his free hand. His gown is unzipped, showing off the button down and tie, which had also been loosened around his neck slightly. His smile is closed-lipped, contained, a sense of content that was in direct contrast to James’ brimming excitability. Night and day, those two. This is the boy she remembers. The boy she knows like the back of her hand.

It’s a nice memory. She remembers that day well. They’d gone out to dinner afterwards, took up two whole tables with their collective party of ten. The boys went out after that, she waited up for them until James came home and had to piggy back her up the stairs to her bed.

They had a picture almost exactly like this a year later, except it was her turn in the graduation gown, and James had propped her on his shoulders while Ronnie laughed at his antics.

And she remembers feeling proud that day. Proud to know them, proud of where they were going. She knows the exact album her mother’s talking about, because they were on that football field for a solid thirty minutes taking photos. There's a whole page filled with these pictures. She looks over the letter again, at her mother’s neat script. “I’m sure he’d love to see it, too.” Would he? She doesn’t even know anymore.

Daisy folds the letter away, tucking it into her belongings as Rita enters the tent. Her smile is mischievous, and she’s giggling before she even steps fully into the space, slotting beside Daisy on the cot and proceeding to detail what exactly took place after Daisy left her to her own devices with the boys. She’s admittedly, only half-listening — giving Rita a smile that isn’t all there. Unfortunately, her unit knows her far-too-well at this point, so she’s immediately met with an elbow nudging at her ribs.

“Alright, you’re like a million miles off. I just said that Talbert guy did fifty pushups ‘cause I egged 'im on about it and not so much as a snicker. What’s buggin’ you?”

She rubs her hands, letting out a bit of a sigh. It’s Rita, so there's n harm in talking about it with her. Still, Daisy treads lightly. She reaches up, rubs the nape of her neck.

“He really did fifty pushups?”

“Daisy.” Daisy smiles in spite of herself at Rita’s narrowed eyes, her half-hearted scowl.

“...I think I upset someone more than I meant to,” she finds herself, unceremoniously, flopping backward on the cot. “You know when you think something isn’t really a big deal for someone else but it turns out it is?”

“Like that time you didn’t tuck the corners of the sheets in right and the head physician nearly had a freakin’ conniption?” Now it’s Daisy’s turn to look up and narrow her eyes. Rita clears her own throat, mutters out a quick, unnecessary apology. “But yeah, kinda, what happened?”

“I guess I’ve been pretty... cold with this person I haven’t spoken to in a while. I didn’t think it was a big deal if I wasn’t all buddy-buddy with him — but I’m starting to think I’ve made a mistake,” she looks back up at the top of the tent, and her brows furrow as she tries to find the words. “Point is, I didn’t think it’d hurt him as much since we haven’t really spoken, but I guess it did, ‘cause last time we spoke he was giving me this look and it made me feel really bad.”

What she likes about Rita, what she always liked — was that when it came to the other girls, she never asked too many questions. Daisy hears the cot creak, and sure enough her friend is laying beside her now, turning her head to look at her.

“You remember when the physician blew his lid at you over hospital folds?” This time, she cringes at the memory. Tortworth Castle training had been a ride — their Captain even had them running laps around the estate to build endurance, although it was much more tame in comparison to what the men went through.

“Yeah.”

“And remember how the next day you got up before the sun even rose and changed the sheets on every damn bed? And when the rest of us got into the ward — what did the physician say?” She watches Rita’s eyes light up in amusement. Daisy can’t help but smile in response.

“That he’d never seen neater folds in his life. And that I was crazy for getting up so early to do it by myself.”

“You still are crazy, by the way,” Rita pipes, and Daisy laughs half-heartedly. “Now I dunno who this guy is, but the crazy nurse I do know would probably go out and fix it the moment she knew she messed up. Maybe even go above and beyond,” She sits up, yanking Daisy with her. “But that’s England’s issue, so we’ll figure it out then.” That leaves Daisy confused, and she tilts her head to the side.

“England? We’re going back to Tortworth?” Rita shakes her head as she stands up, straightening out her jacket.

“Southampton with the Airborne — that’s what Ginny says anyway. That girl’s been poking around with COs since we freakin’ got here. Our unit’s going, a couple others I think, but not all. At any rate, s’not like you won’t see this guy again.” Daisy’s eyes widen, sometimes Rita’s intuition really catches her offguard, even when it logically shouldn’t.

“How did you—”

“We’re surrounded by paratroopers. What, you expect me to believe you know some schmuck in the Armored unit?” Rita reaches over to tug at Daisy’s ear, and she swats her hand away. “At any rate — we’re shippin’ out again in two days with D Company. And you have duty in the infirmary, so quit mopin’ in here before I—”

“Drag me out by my ears?” Rita chuckles.

“You’re gettin’ it. Alright, up and at ‘em Lieutenant.”

She never really minds her shifts at the infirmary — which, out here, is little more than a much neater, slightly calmer aid station. Rita transports her all the way there before heading out again, and she greets the nurses she’s familiar with. She’s yet to become well-acquainted with some of the combat medics, so she has to glance at nametags more than once. But the busywork of the infirmary is a welcomed routine — one that Daisy makes a mental note to cherish before she’s thrust back into a combat zone where routines and calm are traded for the chaos that comes with treating the wounded.

There are a few men with wounds that haven’t quite yet healed, others simply there to recuperate from the horrors they’d seen in Carentan, and a variety of others. She finds their head physician, and receives her orders — which is just to get the food for dinner ready for another nurse to bring to the patients. Easy enough.

She’s pleasantly surprised when she recognizes a familiar close-crop of brown hair and a button nose. Eugene Roe looks up at her with big, curious eyes, and Daisy waves as she takes up space beside him, falling into a sort of assembly line. There's a large iron tub of noodles, and another of tomato sauce — judging from Eugene's face, he seems to have a strong opinion on the matter, even if he isn't saying it. Eugene gets the food on the plate, she ensures they have all the right utensils and such before placing the trays on the cart that, presumably, the other nurse is going to come to deliver. They say nothing for a few moments, working swiftly.

She and Eugene didn’t have many conversations after their initial meeting — wasn’t her fault nor his, just the way things happened. Still, Daisy smiles at him warmly.

“You going back to England?” he looks up from his own work, and nods gently.

“Are you?”

“Not all of us, but yeah I am. I’ll probably be back here soon enough though,” she tilts her head to look at him fully. “They don’t like to tell us much.” At that, Eugene chuckles a bit, raising his brows.

“Us neither.”

“Who knows? Maybe they’ll throw us in the same stick. Slap a parachute to my back if they’re feeling creative.”

“It’d definitely be a morale boost,” the unexpected quip in return makes her snort unintentionally. Seemingly pleased with himself, they put one last plate on the cart. But there’s no sign of the other nurse, so Daisy looks at Eugene with a raised brow. “You wanna help me bring these out?” He nods, quiet as he moves to push the cart into the main tent with the resting men. Just like before, in their plate-making assembly line, they work fluidly around each other and thankfully, today, there isn’t anyone who needs to be fed by a nurse. Once they’re done eating, she’ll have to take TPRs, but for now she’s content take inventory and organize the supply cabinet with Eugene hovering beside her, as if he’s overlooking her numbers. Daisy’s brows furrow, and without looking up at him, she pops the question.

“...How’re you feeling, Roe? Like, actually,” For a moment, there’s heavy silence and she looks up at him. He looks positively perplexed by her question. She smiles, glancing back down for a moment. “I just figured since you mentioned morale boosts that I’d ask. Doesn’t hurt to check in every now and again.” He nods slowly, she can’t help but wonder how many times he’s been asked how he’s feeling.

She was lucky that she and her unit have been taking care of each other for a while — but they were kind of expected to be emotional. To cry it out in a closet quickly and then come back out ready to bring some semblance of joy or spirit was kind of anticipated. She didn’t really know if the men were given that same sort of leniency — so long as they bounced back. She imagined they probably had to swallow it all down.

“Better, now that the men are out of there,” he decides, combined with a sort of humble, mild-mannered smile that she’s beginning to become well-acquainted with. “We lost a lot of good men out there,” Roe doesn’t falter in that sort of warm-eyed gaze he gives her. Daisy can’t help but nod in agreement. More scribbling, taking note of the thinning supply of threads for suturing, and marks it down. “What about you, nurse? How’re you feeling?”

Daisy has to bite her cheek to refrain from saying something too boldly. She taps her pen against the clipboard and smiles in spite of her admittedly muddled mind.

“Better, now that you’re all out of there,” she decides on, and then after a momentary pause, “...and a little hungry. Grab dinner with me from the mess after duty?” He nods, and she finds her smile growing wider at his agreement.

So they proceed in their way, working neatly around each other as she takes TPRs and he changes dressings on wounds and checks out the handful of soldiers who got hurt from their own antics rather than from enemy fire. And afterward they make their way to the mess, which is thinning out of men, grab two plates and sit beside each other, making small talk that isn’t war related. Eugene is from Louisiana — which she had a small feeling about from the thickness of his accent. He learned his role from scratch, no prior experience, but his grandmother was a healer of sorts.

She tells him about nursing school, and Boston, and about her brother overseas and mother back home. Daisy also learns that Eugene is an exceptionally good listener, but she had a feeling about that, too. In the time that they spend, it feels like her head is clearing, albeit temporarily. It feels more like a break than the hot shower did.

She has to remind herself that she’ll see him again soon, almost a bit saddened by the prospect that she’d be going first, but as they share one last smile before separating — Daisy’s certain of it. And she tries not to focus on the murk slowly creeping its way back in with every inch of distance put between herself and Eugene Roe.

#fic // sad beautiful tragic #band of brothers #ronald speirs #ron speirs #hbo war #band of brothers fic #hbo war fic #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x oc #ronald speirs x ofc

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