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strawbeerossi · 2 months

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August || Chapter Three

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid, fem!reader x Emily Prentiss (it’s happening!!!)

Description: Spencer has taken notice of how close you are getting with Emily, causing a good amount of jealousy to flow through his veins.

Content/Warnings: Flirting, arguments, Spencer and JJ are starting to crumble.

WC: 1.4K

I’m going to California tomorrow for a mini vacation so I wanted to make a post before I left. Next chapter will purely be reader x Emily with the way I have things planned.

Navigation || August Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Request

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The conversation with Emily eased some pain in your chest. You weren’t alone, instead you had someone who you’ve known for ages directly telling you she’s going to stand behind you.

You’d think that she would be forced to be unbiased, being unit chief as well as being friends with all three of the involved parties. Emily wasn’t always a rule follower though, everyone knew that.

It was a month after the fact that you’d finally come to peace with the issues that you had with Spencer and JJ. You’d never be able to forgive them for that betrayal, however you were civil with them at work. It wasn’t a chore to have to sit in the same room as them. You thought that you might actually survive the whole ordeal.

You moving on was a blessing to the team, the lack of tension and high emotions made working so much more comfortable. There were no sly comments, there were no exasperated expressions of frustration from someone saying the wrong thing. All was well.

Spencer didn’t like that you were still avoiding him outside of the office but he had to come to terms with that on his own time. He expected things to get better, for the friendship to be mended. He didn’t get that lucky.

It had gotten to the point that he lost himself in the efforts of making everything up to you by offering a healthy amount of distance, only being able to yearningly glance at you from the distance between you.

All he wanted was to just force you to sit down and talk things out with him.

While you were moving on in a healthy manner, he was festering in an ocean of self deprecation. The ultimate switch of your outward emotions became more obvious with each passing day. Instead of you being quiet and ignoring the world, it was Spencer.

The old you would’ve felt bad and reached out as soon as he began acting like that. Now though? You felt.. Good when it came to seeing him miserable. He knew how bad he fucked himself over and you were basking in it.

Revenge in the simple form of bettering yourself was just too sweet. It was better considering the work you put in was purely for yourself.

The situation between JJ and Spencer was severely impacted, mainly because the former was so confused on why you were such a forefront after everything that went down between the both of you. In her mind, it made sense why you’d leave him alone, so why did he care? It wasn’t worth it.

Regardless, he wouldn’t take her advice.

Spencer had begun to notice that you were spending a lot more time in Emily’s office lately. He didn’t want to even think about what was going on behind that closed door, mainly because a pang of jealousy shot through his body every single time you took a file to her in order to discuss it.

Just like now, you were currently seated in Emily’s office, the both of you discussing a recent case and how you could approach writing your report. It was fully innocent, even if there was a lot of rumors about what was actually going on when you were alone.

“I appreciate you working with me on this.” You smiled while looking up at Emily, your cheek resting against the palm of your hand. You were spending quite a lot of time with her outside of the office too lately. She just knew how to make you feel better and you gave her credit for half of the reason you were doing much better.

“Don’t mention it. I’m happy you asked for help on it. Your reports before were..” She hissed in a playful tone. “Questionable.” She joked with you, causing your foot to gently kick hers under the table.

“They weren’t bad! I used to ask Rossi to look them over just to make sure they were good. Between you and me, I think I’ve been getting on his nerves so that’s why I came to you this time.”

Emily chuckled. “I’m a second option then. I’m hurt.” She sighed in a dramatic fashion, her hand against her chest.

“I saved the best for last.” You corrected, a smile gracing your features. You really felt drawn to Emily after all of her patience and help as of late. It was funny, you’d worked together all these years and didn’t manage to actually sit and get to know one another outside of your jobs. Maybe it was your undying love for Spencer that shielded you from fully expressing yourself to anyone else.

“You flatter me.” The raven haired woman mused while she was looking at her watch. “I’ll go ahead and keep this file since we are done. Wanna go out and pick up lunch with me?” She asked, an eyebrow raised. It was a quiet day, so it wouldn’t hurt to go out for an hour or so.

“Only if you’re buying.” You winked, pushing yourself to stand while the two of you were walking out of the office together. The minute the door was opened was when Spencer’s head immediately lifted from his assignment, landing on you and Emily as you both left the office together.

You’d briefly stopped to grab your bag before just continuing to follow the unit chief to the elevator.

“Guess they are going out again.” Tara commented while shaking her head with a smile. “I think it’s sweet.”

“What do you mean? This seems like a friendly interaction.” That pang of jealousy shot into Spencer's chest once again.

“You’re joking, right? Do you see the way they look at each other? Hardly seems like a simple friendly interaction.” Luke commented from his desk, sipping from his coffee mug.”You haven’t noticed?”

“I don’t think you can determine anything other than friendship with just the way they look at one another. That seems a bit silly.” He commented once more as he shrugged, tapping the back of his pen against the desk.

“Why do you care?” JJ finally asked, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. “‘Cause it looks like to me that all this worrying is purely one sided.” For the first time since the incident, you weren’t the one causing all the tension. It was JJ.

“I care because she’s my friend. It’s not that I care about her and Emily anyway, I just wanted to inquire how they could be anything but friends.”

“Because you care. Spencer, she hasn’t spoken to you in a month. It’s safe to say that she isn’t your friend anymore. She isn’t interested in mending a friendship. So why don’t you just.. Stop being yourself for one minute and consider the other option.”

“I can’t just stop being myself. It’s all I know how to be.”

“But you can. You can stop showing the slightest bit of worry whenever she does so much as blink. She’s fine.”

The bickering had everyone watching, enjoying the entertainment between the two people who were wrong in this whole situation. It was a shame that you were missing it.

“Are you two done?” Dave was asking from the doorway of his office, his arms crossed over his chest. His stance was reminiscent of a dad getting ready to scold his two fighting children. “I think I speak for all of us when I say that this bickering is ridiculous. You made your bed and now you have to lie in it, that’s all there is to say.”

Spencer was falling silent again as he brought a hand up to rub his face. “I’ve done a lot of things wrong but me caring for her is certainly not one of them. I don’t deserve the privilege to have her in my life but I am never just gonna pretend like I don’t care.” He responded, making the blonde scoff.

“Right. You really showed how much you cared about her when you willingly got with me even after you had an inkling she had feelings for you. I was in the wrong too but that’s why I’m leaving her alone. You care so much for someone who you pushed away and made her feel so little care for you. Now she doesn’t even look at you. But sure, you care.”

JJ taking accountability was one thing but she knew she would never be able to force Spencer to. He was too stubborn and he wouldn’t believe that you were gone from him forever. Your friendship couldn’t be a lost cause. He knew there was a way to make things better.

He could do that.

He would do that.

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jinwoosungs · 9 months

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{ 104 }

the price of a lie.

lies of p.

pinocchio x reader

warnings: unedited and a self indulgent mess.

{ how many lies would you tell to be human? }

truth be told, pinocchio never understood what it truly meant to be human.

his journey throughout krat was no easy task, for surrounding him were enemies who wanted nothing more than to witness his demise; automatons who held such deep contempt for him and his goals, being just as deadly as the plague that wracked through the city.

with each challenge that he faced, he was forced to play the role of a real boy, acting as though he desired nothing more than for his lies to become a reality someday. even though he knew that being human was seen as a good thing, he didn't really understand it. when asked about it, his father often told pinocchio that he was the key to saving humanity; that it was due to pinocchio being geppetto's creation that he held him in such high regard- that this was something only he could do.

but it was difficult for pinocchio. he felt as though the weight of the world had been placed on his shoulder, and he was forced to navigate through such a dark world entirely on his own while given little to no motivation. despite how he wasn't quite human yet, there seemed to be a looming weight within his chest, one that filled him with an inexplicable emotion.

the feeling was so great that he couldn't help but dwell on it, the curiosity of it all spilling over that he had to ask sophia about it.

"that emotion you are describing sounds a great deal like dread." he recalls sophia telling him one late evening when he was last seeking refuge at hotel krat. her graceful figure seemed to float along the marble floors, voice ever so gentle as her slender fingertips ran along the oakwood shelves, exploring the spines of the various books settled within it.

she hums, not quite facing him, yet pinocchio knew that she was simply deep in thought. "it is not strange for you to feel this way, after all, we are asking a lot of you at this very moment."

"however," her gentle laughter makes pinocchio finally meet her gaze, seeing her smile as she reassures him, "how you decide to move forward and continue your journey is entirely up to you. and truly, i have faith in you- we all do."

sophia stops herself from speaking further then, her gaze becoming a bit more solemn as she clasps her hands together. she steps closer to him, the skirt of her blue gown swaying back and forth with her movements when she settles herself before him. her gaze was unwavering, placing her hand on pinocchio's shoulder as she tells him:

"but it won't be easy... you must have a strong conviction in order to become what you truly desire. so, tell me..."

just how far would you go to truly be human?

pinocchio hears sophia's words echoing within him, the cogs in his mind whirring as he fought to find the right words to say. could he really tell her of how numb he felt? would she understand if he spoke to her, finally telling her that single phrase i don't know?

instead of being truthful with her, pinocchio found that he could not get the words out; the silence was deafening, and despite how no words had been spoken or exchanged, the pain in sophia's gaze said it all.

as if taking pinocchio's unspoken words as his answer, she simply nods at him before letting him go, leaving him feeling numb.

if pinocchio were to be honest with himself, the puppet simply felt... empty at the thought of being human. he felt no innate desire to become one, and only felt such desires simply because he was told to.

the lies he tells were only made to put up a façade; one that he was meant to uphold if he were to ever survive the dangers that were seen all across krat. he never had a reason, nor felt the true desire to become real-

but that all seemed to change one fateful moment, when he came into contact with a human-

when he came into contact with you.

it was raining that day, the downpour causing the cobblestone streets to become slick. puddles surrounded the city as pinocchio could feel his own clothes becoming wet from the rain. his shoes made splashes all across the roads when gemini's voice became panicked.

"whoa, b-bad news, buddy! i sense a group of rogue automatons just a few blocks away. maybe we should retreat for now? you seem unprepared, and you were only meant to be out here to do recon."

pinocchio ignores gemini's advice, simply sharpening his rapier with his legion arm as he stepped forward, eyes narrowing when he sees a figure coming towards him, seeing you running to him. he stops walking, watching as your footsteps pound against the streets as gasps escapes from your parted lips. you were dressed in a tattered shirt with torn pants, and your shoes were so worn and torn that they nearly made you slip and fall into the slick streets.

when you finally see him, you let out a sigh of relief all while reaching out to him with your hands, "p-please, you've got to help me!"

he takes note of the way your heart raced from within your chest and how wisps of smoke seemed to escape from your parted lips due to how cold it was. the constant thumpthumpthump heard from the confines of your chest intrigued pinocchio a great deal, and he was uncertain why his curiosity was so piqued by you.

"pino, this is bad, the enemies are right in front of you!"

without saying a word to you, pinocchio places you directly behind him, shielding you from the automatons. he watches the rogue puppets with thick oil escaping from their porcelain lips, staining at their skin as heavy grunts and groans were heard from them. their movements were slow, dragging their feet along the slick streets. pinocchio held no concern when it came to defeating them and shielding you from the dangers that they pose.

using the speed and grace he had developed from his past battles, he manages to take down the rogue group of automatons with ease. his rapier slices through them as he dodges their attacks with great succession. within what seemed like seconds, they all collapse in a pile of broken limbs, the rain already beginning to turn their bodies into rust.

he faces you once more, seeing you wrap your arms around your chest, your eyes wide with wonder. "t-that was amazing! and goodness, y-you are also an automaton? i truly thought you were real! simply a young man taking a stroll across krat! well, actually, that would be quite crazy, since humans like me would definitely struggle surviving here!"

pinocchio listens to you and the way you excitedly spoke to him. it was here that he learns of your name, how you were not originally from krat and had simply traveled here to learn about the city's accomplishments with automatons. you spoke highly about your dreams and how you wished to be a master engineer like geppetto.

"that is my father." pinocchio wasn't sure why he felt the need to tell you of this simple fact. something about you seemed...bright. so achingly bright that it made his chest feel this strange tightness. the fact that you were all alone in this dangerous world made pinocchio wish to help you- to shield and protect you from it.

he watches as your eyes widen in response. "you're kidding, that's amazing!"

"yup, it sure is! master geppetto is a genius, and i along with everyone else agree that pinocchio is his greatest creation!" gemini chimes in, further adding to your excitement.

"then that means-"

"you may come with me." pinocchio softly tells you without a hint of hesitation, simply holding his hand out for you to take. your features appear surprised once more before turning a bit sheepish a mere moments later. "i-i don't know. i don't wish to intrude, but...krat has become a living nightmare since the plague hit. i was a bit foolish in coming here so...so unprepared. "

"hey listen, your only hope of survival is to follow pinocchio here. if you stay out here, you're gonna be made into mincemeat for sure." gemini continues to urge you to follow pinocchio, "he can take you to geppetto. and who knows? maybe you can work as his assistant along with eugénie."

throughout it all, pinocchio never stops keeping his hand outreached for you to take. as gemini's voice slowly softens before becoming silent, he could see your eyes shining with excitement and happiness once more. with a sigh, pinocchio watches you as you step forward and call out his name for the first time. "pinocchio, right?"

he feels himself shiver a bit upon hearing the way you call out to him. giving you a simple nod, he extends his hand out even more to you, to which you finally take. the warmth that came from the palm of your hand was what pinocchio initially feels, his fingertips lightly grazing against your wrist as he felt the pulse along with the warmth that radiated off of it.

there was a sudden surge felt within his chest, one that pushes him forward as he ends up interlocking the fingertips of his non-legion hand with yours, pulling you along as he safely lead you out of the city and towards his sanctuary found within hotel krat.

and it didn't take long for you to find a new home within his found family. as predicted by gemini, his father welcomed you with open arms, along with eugénie. you were a fast learner, and offered many insights to both of them when it came to optimizing pinocchio's legion arm.

pinocchio wasn't sure why your presence instilled something so profound within him. he has had his fair share of communicating with humans. he was close to his father, and he enjoyed listening to eugénie prattle on about the modifications she has made to his legion arm.

but interacting with you sparked something deep from within him. each day he returned to hotel krat, he found himself basking in your smiles and the sound of your voice as you told him about your day all while asking pinocchio about his own adventures.

he never tired of hearing your voice, and how your warmth seemed to permeate at the air before seeping into him. and it was while he was in your presence that he found himself regretting that he could not feel your warmth nor share it with you. pinocchio's body was cold, being carved by the richest wood and sewn together with metal. his glass eyes were incapable of reflecting the same emotions that you showed each time you met his curious gaze, and that part bothered him greatly.

that was the first time pinocchio felt a great sense of regret at not being truly human.

he wanted to bask in the rain and feel the cold droplets against his skin and dance in it with you;

he wanted to share cups of hot chocolate with you and be able to lick away the cream that decorates your lips;

but more so than that, he wanted these feelings he was beginning to feel to come into fruition and have a true, beating heart.

it was a yearning that pinocchio felt growing inside him, getting stronger and deeper with each passing day. each time you walk by him, his gaze would ultimately follow you. the longing that he felt was certainly becoming more evident, and an almost knowing smile would grace sophia's features each time she witnesses your interactions with pinocchio.

with a newfound passion, pinocchio continues his journey, now believing his lies of being human each time he uttered them while exploring the city of krat- allowing the thoughts of you to push him forward.

and it was with these thoughts of you plaguing his mind that he returns back home from his exploration around krat. the night was at its peak, with hotel krat remaining silent as evident of its inactivity. pinocchio was the only one still awake at this time, and he found himself wandering aimlessly around the library, unable to rest.

his fingers run across the spines of the books, yet he felt no desire to read any of them. as his eyes scan the various titles, he was aware of the familiar sound that never fails to bring him comfort.

thumpthumpthump...

his ears pick up the gentle pitter patter of your heart, its slow beats alerting him of your sleeping state. yet despite how he knew that you were resting, pinocchio couldn't stop his footsteps from moving forward. he allows the sounds of your heartbeat to lead him away from the library, his steps echoing throughout the marble flooring of the hallways.

as if running on instinct alone, he does not stop his movements until he reaches the front of your room. like a moth being drawn to a flame, pinocchio lifts his hand, pressing it against the door as he pushes it aside and steps within your bedroom.

his eyes adjust to the dim lighting of the room within seconds as he moves forward. he follows the sounds of your breathing and ends up standing before your bed. it is here that he sees you curled up against the sheets, your hair splayed across your pillow as you cling to your blankets. pinocchio allows his eyes to trail over to your chest, becoming mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of it.

unconsciously, he reaches out to you, allowing his hand to brush back the strands of your hair. upon feeling his cold hand against your skin, you wince in your sleep before letting out a soft groan. pinocchio simply stiffens in response, not even attempting to move his hand away from you even when you slowly began to awaken.

"huh? pinocchio?" you sat up in bed, forcing pinocchio to remove his hand away from your cheek. "what are you doing here?"

pinocchio knew that the right thing to do in this situation was to simply apologize for waking you up, yet no words seemed to come out properly from his parted lips. "i...i..."

yet miraculously, you seemed to inherently understand him. "it's alright, you can't sleep, right?" wordlessly, you scoot over on your bed, making room for pinocchio to settle beside you. "come on, it's alright, you can stay here, with me."

his hands began to itch with a sudden urge, a pinprick of desire that seemed to grow as your smile was all he could see. following along with this strange emotion, pinocchio lets out a tiny thank you in response to your kindness before laying in bed with you.

not wanting you to fall off the bed, he wraps his arms around your form, bringing you closer to him as you let out a gasp. he says your name in yet another soft whisper, adjusting himself so that his ear was pressed against your chest.

"p-pinocchio?" your voice had risen a few octaves, and he could hear the way your heart began to beat faster in response to his touch.

"ssh...just let me...let me listen to your heart beat- listen to what makes you human." pinocchio's voice began to take on a richer tone, being filled with wonder as he closed his eyes and listened to the steady beat of your heart.

thumpthumpthump...

how far would you go to be human?

how many lies would you tell?

in this moment, with you by his side, pinocchio knew that he would tell an infinite amount of lies-

for if he could become human and share his heartbeat with yours, than what greater bliss could possibly exist for him?

a.n. - so a new lies of p trailer just dropped, and i find myself falling for pinocchio all over again 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#lies of p x reader #pinocchio x reader #lop x reader #lies of p #liesofp x reader #.stories

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pochipop · 1 year

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＃ALICE IN BORDERLAND !! ♡ — THERE'S NO HELL IN WHAT I'VE FOUND (CHISHIYA X READER).

#. synopsis! — chishiya has fallen in way too goddamn deep .

#. characters! — chishiya .

#. warnings! — brief mentions of canon-typical gore, slight angst .

#. word count! — 1.2k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — i have not finished season 2 yet, but i wrote this all in one sitting after seeing the first two episodes + falling for this silly man all over again lolol. i might branch out + write more for this fandom (but i will never write for niragi, so just a heads up on that!)

It really did just have to come to this, didn’t it?

Chishiya is a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. He knows that when it comes to surviving in a place like this, there are times when you have to sacrifice others and be willing to carry that burden for the rest of your life. There is no easy way out. Either you die and go on to whatever happens next, —if anything happens at all— or you push others to the wayside in lieu of saving yourself, preserving your own survival, and you live to see the monster you inevitably become.

And call him crazy, but Chishiya was okay with becoming a monster if it meant he could save himself. Hell, he’d done so much of the work from the shadows that it would hardly be fair to let him of all people meet his tragic end here.

But you just couldn’t help yourself. You had to crawl under his skin, —make him care about you, make him fall so hard that he was left to question whose survival mattered more. When it came down to the wire. . .

He’d have chosen you.

That’s the scariest realization of all, he muses. These games, all the gunfire, all the explosions, all the fatal electric shocks. . . They paled in comparison to the realization that his biggest fear wasn’t his own demise anymore. It was yours.

As the game comes to a close and those of you left standing slowly reacclimate to the best state of normalcy one can muster up given the circumstances, he hates that his first instinct is to slip away, knowing you’ll find him soon enough. He may have been foolish enough to catch feelings, but he wasn’t so dumb that he’d show such a weakness around anyone else. Though he’s sure the likes of Kuina or Arisu have long since caught on, —he won’t be the one to confirm a damn thing, and he expects that you’ll keep your mouth shut about it as well. It’ll be a worse liability than it already is if word gets out to the wrong people.

Chishiya slips away before anyone has the chance to acknowledge his presence, leaving his absence unaccounted for by everyone but you. Of course, you noticed him sneaking away, parting from the group like a snake in the grass. . . You’ve always been a little too perceptive for your own good.

Fatigue claws at you like a famished predator, weighing your body down a great deal. You smell of sweat and the blood of the young girl next to you who hadn’t been quite so lucky. Still, you will your body forward and follow in Chishiya’s footsteps after lingering for just long enough to throw suspicion off your trail. While you certainly aren’t a master of manipulation, —you are clever in a way that even someone like Chishiya has to respect. You know how to take care of yourself, even in a twisted world like this.

He wishes knowing that gave him any kind of peace, but he’s afraid he’s reached the point of no return. It’s not that he doesn’t believe you can survive just about any of these games on your own. . . It’s that even if he does, the worry lingers just because it’s you.

Fuck.

He really can’t believe he’s done this to himself. It’s so untimely, so completely and utterly ridiculous, —so much so that he convinces himself his mind is just playing tricks on him sometimes until you fall into place at his side again and all such thoughts are forced out the window from his vice-like grip.

“Ugh,” you grumble, arm tucked below your chest as you cradle your own torso, “there you are.”

Chishiya offers you little more than a sidelong glance before returning his stoic gaze to the skyline. The sun sets as you bring yourself closer to him, keeping a comfortable distance. It ends up just like this far too often, and Chishiya frowns at the thought of closing the barely-there gap, brushing his shoulder against yours. Maybe later in the night when the lethargy really starts to hit him and his inhibitions lower ever so slightly, he’ll let himself fall apart just enough to hold you for whatever time of fleeting hours remains. That way, he can blame it on the fatigue, on the cold, on the temptation of sleeping next to a warm body.

It’s not because it’s you, it’s just because you’re there.

And maybe if that were the case, Chishiya wouldn’t be quite this frustrated.

“Surprised it took you so long to find me,” he says finally, keeping his eyes straight ahead. “You’ve been getting slower about it.”

“Oh, well excuse me for not rushing after you like a lion on a gazelle,” you answer sarcastically. “Not like my lungs almost gave out down there or anything.”

He doesn’t say it, —but he’d trade his breath for yours if it meant you could reach him faster.

“That one wasn’t so bad,” he shrugs. “We’ve both been through worse.”

His worst is just beginning, it seems. You close the gap yourself, resting part of your weight against him, and he feels his heart flip itself into a tailspin. For the first time in so long, Chishiya isn’t sure where to go from here. He’s trapped inside these feelings and they’re inching closer to swallowing him whole by the second. They run so deep he might as well be drowning in them.

“Easy for us to say, I guess,” you mumble. “We’re alive. Most people who end up here aren’t that lucky.”

“True enough,” he acknowledges softly, making no move to push you away.

He never does.

You stand in silence with him for a while, watching as the sky turns dark and the bright colors of the setting sun are swallowed up by a deep, velvety navy. There’re no stars to be seen, nothing for you to wish on. . . It’s a little childish, but any sliver of normalcy you can manage here, you’ll take with open arms. That’s why you let your feelings for Chishiya blossom freely, refusing to stifle your heart’s desires for the sake of some stupid game of life and death.

If I die right now, I’d rather do it with you than be alone.

Chishiya wishes you’d never said those words to him, —not because he doesn’t reciprocate, but because they resonated much too wholly for comfort. If he can help it, he won’t be going out in a place like this. But more than that, he can’t imagine letting your flame be snuffed out without a ravenous fight.

Silence reigns once again. It’s a characteristic feature of your gentler moments with Chishiya that are few and far between, but when they happen, you like to think you cherish them the best way you know how. Beyond that, you also like to think Chishiya finds even the slightest sliver of peace with you.

He doesn’t confirm or deny anything of the sort, but you wager that’s a flimsy yes at the very least when the tension in his shoulders melds away and his head rests gently against your own.

You can’t make any promises about tomorrow, —but for now, things are okay. And if that’s the best you’ll get here, then so be it.

#alice in borderland #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #chishiya x you #chishiya x y/n #chishiya shuntaro x reader #chishiya reader insert #alice in borderland x reader #chishiya shuntaro x you #chishiya shuntaro x y/n #alice in borderland reader insert

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crazychaoticizzy · 3 months

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When You Wish Upon a Star

Levi X Reader

WARNINGS: post war, major character death, angst, longing

Word Count: 1k

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“Levi, when I die I’m going to become a star. So if I die before you I want you to look up at the sky every night and find me, and just tell me how you’re doing.”

Levi furrowed his brow. He looked over at where you were sitting in the plane to find you looking longingly out the window.

“What? You’re not dying.”

You laughed, turning your attention to him. “I’m just saying. You never know what’ll happen.”

Levi is silent. You’re right, he doesn’t know what’ll happen, but he knows that you’ll try your damn best to live. Even if nothing is waiting for you, even if the entire world is against you, you’ll survive.

“Mr. Levi, why are you always so grumpy looking?”

He set the now empty box of candy to the side, looking down at the group of children that had gathered and sat around him. He wasn’t sure why they always came to him, but he didn’t mind it.

“Yeah. You always have this face like”—one child contorts her face into an exaggerated frown—“like that.”

“Is it because you’re lonely?”

That was a stab to his heart. He spent most of his day giving these kids candy. Sometimes Gabi or Falco or whoever would come and wheel him someplace else, so he wasn’t really alone.

But sometimes at night, when he’s struggling to lower himself into the bathtub, he wishes someone were there. Sometimes, when he’s pushing himself around in the morning to make breakfast, he wishes someone would kiss his cheek or tell him, “Good morning.” Sometimes when he watches the kids that sit around him bicker and argue and play with each other, he wishes that he had a little brat of his own.

What he really wishes, is that you were there with him.

“Mr. Levi isn’t lonely! He has his cousin, remember? Or those other people that come and talk to him sometimes.”

“Yeah, but they don’t count. I mean like a girl. Are you married, Mr. Levi?”

“No, I’m not married.” He wishes he was. He wishes he could have convinced you to stay so you could be the one he married, but he couldn’t. He had frozen up and watched you go.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Levi thinks back to what you said to him on that flying ship, back before so many people had to die.

“She’s a star.”

They start snickering, holding their hands tightly over their mouths attempting to muffle them. As children do, they over exaggerate their reaction, falling on their sides as they giggle.

“You can’t date a star! They’re all the way up in the sky so you can’t date one.”

Levi cracks a small smile and doesn’t say anything. As much as they remind him that he can’t be with a star, that he’ll never get the chance to tell you how he really feels, he doesn’t mind because these kids are laughing. They’re smiling so big Levi can see all of their teeth and he thinks that there’s nothing he’d rather be doing.

When he goes home later that day, he asks Gabi to leave him out on the porch for a bit. She complies and Levi tells her to go inside and read a book until he’s ready. He stares out as the sun sets before him thinking about the last time he was able to touch you.

“Hange, if we both go we can stall for longer,” you said. You were already ready, your ODM gear strapped to your hips and legs with thunder spears in yours hands.

“Y/n, you’re being stupid. That won’t-“

“She’s right.” Hange’s voice was soft. Levi could tell they didn’t want you to go either, but they were desperate and needed all the time they could get. “We don’t know how long it’ll take to start the air ship up.”

Levi had blocked the rest from his memory. He’s not sure why, those were the last moments he had with the two of you, after all. He wanted to remember every little detail.

While Hange was appointing Armin as the fifteenth commander, you kept Levi wrapped in your arms. You were taller than him, so his head was tucked into your shoulder as you told him over and over again you loved him.

Tears streamed down your face. You sobbed and ran your hands through his hair and told him the same words over and over again.

He took you in, squeezing you in his arms so hard you were breathless. He tried committing your smell to memory and found himself wishing your hair wasn’t pulled back so he could take in the scent of flowers it always had.

Now you smelled like sweat and dirt. He hated it, but he couldn’t let himself hate it as much as he did because it was you. Part of him wishes you had chosen different paths, ones that didn’t end up here.

He cried, too, but your shirt had absorbed the tears before you pulled away and cupped his face in your hands.

You looked into his eyes, the prettiest steel gray you’ve ever seen and always overflowing with emotion. A soft smile stretched across your face despite the circumstances, and you leaned forward and softly kissed his lips.

“Don’t forget to tell me how you are, okay?” Your voice cracked on the last word, but you refused to cry again. “Every day. I want to hear everything.”

You kissed him once more before pulling away and letting Hange say bye.

And he just stood there when you finally zipped off. He was frozen until Mikasa grabbed him by the shoulder and brought him back to reality.

He remembers wishing it was night while they were in the sky just so he could talk to you again.

But now that the sun had gone down and the moon was hanging in the air, Levi looks up at the sky and finds the brightest star.

And he starts talking.

i got this idea because i watched the princess and the frog and i love ray and evangeline so much (it's a firefly and a star, i know, i'm sorry) and this came to me in a vision and i just needed to write it but i hope y'all enjoyed <3

TAGGING: if you'd like to be tagged whenever I post or Levi comment or DM to let me know!

#izzy’s imagines ❀#attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman aot #levi ackerman x reader #snk #snk x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #levi x reader #aot levi #levi aot #levi attack on titan #attack on titan levi

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obxsummer · 1 year

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Dreamcatcher // JJ Maybank

pairing: jj maybank x gn!reader

request: “I broke the lock. You were screaming.” and ❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜ with jj? gn!reader has been having nightmares every night since the treasure hunting started, and its the first night back in obx after poguelandia and they have a really bad one, and jj is there to help? of course, only write it if you want to, your writing is beautiful! lots of love <3

warnings: nightmares, creepy wound descriptions

a/n: y'all i have no idea why the links are going to the browser the way they are but I'm hoping tumble fixes itself here soon

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#obx3celebration

Your time in Poguelandia was hard. Learning how to survive off the island around you was rewarding, but also terrifying. What if you ate something poisonous or someone got seriously injured? Each day got a little bit easier than the one before but you couldn’t lie and say it was a vacation.

You were glad to be back in the OBX. Although it sucked living back here on your own, it was nice to be back in your bed and to know what exactly you were surrounding yourself with. JJ followed along with you after coming back to an eviction notice on his door. You were more than happy to offer up the extra room in your home, grateful to not have an empty house.

You’d grown up alongside Sarah Cameron and the Kooks, easily becoming one of her best friends over the years. Eventually, you were dragged into the chaos and solidified your Pogue friendship with Kie, JJ, Pope, and John B. They were your best friends, your steady pillars in a rocky world. Of course, jumping off a boat in the middle of the ocean wasn’t on your bucket list, but you’d do anything for them.

Nothing brought people together better than trauma bonding, of course. In the past month, you and JJ slowly inched closer. Both of you had nobody to return home to and nowhere to be. He was lost and you were broken; two puzzle pieces that oddly fit together.

JJ was crashing in the guest bedroom, having showered and fallen asleep quickly after the two of you got dropped off. You took your time to get to bed, knowing as soon as you sat on the mattress, you’d be out for hours.

You didn’t know where your parents were, opting that maybe they never even knew you were gone in the first place. You were quick to find a spare phone and get it set back up in case the Pogues reached out with any news.

The dark and quiet of your room was intimidating as you lay there on your back. You were so used to the crackle of a dying fire, or one of your friends snoring. The moon almost always cast a light around you as well and the sound of the moving ocean was calming.

It wasn’t obvious when the dark of your ceiling turned into the dark of your dreams but suddenly, you were back on that island. The sky was black above you with flashes of light from a nearing storm. Turning around, you quickly realized you were alone. You tried not to resort straight to panic but it was hard to do, especially here of all places.

Your feet moved quickly through the terrain as you attempted to make your way back to where you knew your camp was set up. “JJ? Sarah! Hello? Anyone!” Your voice was scratchy as you yelled in hopes that someone would hear you and call back.

Fear bubbled in your chest when you couldn’t find camp. Everything was gone; Sarah’s woven baskets, the fire JJ had built, all of the food you’d surfaced, everything. Everyone.

“Someone! Hello!” You spun towards the open water, the liquid black with the night. You were stranded by yourself, with no way home. No friends to help you. “Help, please!”

“Looking for someone?” The voice of Ward Cameron grabbed your attention instantly. He faded into view, covered in blood, and looked like he meant revenge. “They’re all dead. You killed them.”

“What are you talking about?” You mumbled in confusion. Your eyes dropped to your own hands that were covered in dark red, the liquid practically dripping off your fingers. “Where are they?”

“You’re the reason we’re dead, Y/N.” A hand landed on your shoulder and forced you to spin. John B’s figure was standing in front of you with a noticeable bullet wound in his chest. Blood seeped through his shirt as Sarah walked up behind him with a similar wound in her hip.

You shook your head drastically, choking on the air in your throat at the sight of them. “No, no it wasn’t me! I-I don’t even-”

“We told you you weren’t cut out for this,” Kiara’s voice interrupted your desperate pleas as she moved into your vision. “You didn’t pull me out of the airplane, Y/N. Why didn’t you pull me out?”

“Stop!” You sobbed as you backed up to put distance between the three of them. This couldn’t be real. You swore you’d never let anything happen to any of the Pogues.

A sickening laugh came from next to you where Cleo and Pope were standing. Their clothing was smoking, almost ashy in nature. “It’s real,” Pope snapped to confirm your thoughts. “You didn’t save us. You said you would save us from the fire.”

Your body heaved at the sight of all of them, so damaged and lifelike in front of you. “No! I wouldn’t have let anything happen I-”

“You caused all of it.” JJ was suddenly right in front of you, bruises littering his body as blood smeared from open wounds. “You watched as my dad ended my life. Didn’t even move, didn’t flinch. You watched all of us die, Y/N, and you didn’t even try to stop it.”

“Now it’s time for us to bring you with us.” Kie’s grin was devilish as they all surrounded you. “Actions have consequences.”

“Y/N! Y/N, wake the hell up!”

You gasped air into your lungs and sat up sharply as the vision faded to nothing. You blinked tears from your eyes and folded over to get oxygen back into your body. Someone’s hand was warm on your back as they rubbed comforting circles.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” JJ’s voice sent chills down your spine. It was a stark contrast to the vicious, cruel tone you’d witnessed just seconds ago. “Just breathe. I gotcha.”

It took a moment before you could sit back up. You had become too aware of how cold your body was, no doubt from the sweat of whatever nightmare you’d just lived through. “What…What happened?”

“I broke the lock,” JJ admitted as you collapsed into his side and shivered. He cradled you against him tightly. “You were screaming.”

“Sorry, bad dream,” You apologized roughly. Your fingers were clenching the comforter harshly. It felt too real like he would disappear from beneath you in a split second and you’d be facing the consequences of something you caused.

JJ could feel you shaking in his arms. He’d barely gotten any sleep himself, so the second you cried out he came flying. It was hard not to assume the worst automatically. He’d watched you put on a brave face for so long and a break was inevitable at some point. He just didn’t expect you to scream the way you did. He didn’t hesitate to kick your bedroom door in and run to your side.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” The question was soft and felt optional for you to agree to.

You shrugged in his grasp, mumbling a thank you when he handed you the water from your nightstand. Nightmares like this had been happening for a while, ever since the treasure hunting started really. You’d dreamt through most of your memories but through a horrific lens instead. The only person you ever told was Pope, who had told you of similar instances himself. You guys went from being kids who fucked around for fun to life-and-death situations around every corner.

“It’s just like…ever since we started looking for the gold, these nightmares have gotten worse and worse. The scary part is they’re all very possible of being true. Of you guys getting hurt or-or worse? And I can’t even stop it, I’m just forced to watch it all unfold until I lose every single one of you.”

JJ was quiet as he listened to you speak. The wavering in your voice as you recounted what you’d seen made him even more upset that you’d dealt with this for so long. It was no secret your friend group got up to mischievous plans, but to know that it was at the point where you lost sleep over the idea of not having them was heartbreaking.

“It’s all over now,” JJ reassured as his thumb brushed at your cheeks. “Promise. Nothin’s gonna happen to any of us. I wouldn’t let it.”

His words didn’t bring as much comfort as you would’ve liked. Nothing ever really did until you saw each of your friends in front of you and were able to hug them. That’s the only way it ever felt real like the bad dreams were nothing compared to having them around you.

Your phone flashed 4:22 am back in your direction as you skimmed the notifications. You’d have to wait until it was acceptable to call everyone or gather them up to see them. You let out a defeated sigh, “Thanks, J. You didn’t have to come in.”

“Course I did. Gotta make sure you’re safe,” His response brought a smile to your face as you finally pulled out of his embrace. “Do…Do you want me to stay?”

You took a second to consider his offer before shaking your head and moving away from him. “I’m probably gonna stay awake and I don’t want you to have to-”

“Y/N.” JJ grabbed your hand to pull your attention back to him. “Just answer the question.”

You stared at him for a moment, your teeth digging into the skin on the inside of your lip before you nodded in response. JJ didn’t hesitate to wiggle under your sheets. He was a heavy sleeper so it would likely be easy for him to slip back into a peaceful slumber while you tossed and turned the rest of the night.

“Lay down before I drag you to sleep myself,” His voice was raspy as his fingers tugged against your t-shirt until you gave in and shuffled down next to him. JJ’s hand was warm as it reached across your frame to grab your right him to pull you closer until your chest was against his. “Just try, I gotcha.”

You adjusted so your head rest against his chest, fingers brushing his shirtless side before you settled in. Your busted doorframe could be fixed in the morning. You couldn’t hide the fact that you were still exhausted and JJ’s warmth was taking over as you listened to his steady breathing fill your surroundings.

“Promise you’ll be here in the morning?” You whispered shyly. Part of you hoped that was enough nightmares for the night but you didn’t wanna jinx yourself.

JJ’s blue eyes blinked open as a small smile formed across his face. His arm moved until his fingers grabbed yours from his side so he could hold them closer. If this was how you had to spend every night from here on out to keep the bad dreams away, he’d chase them until he couldn’t anymore. He’d do anything to make sure you were okay.

“Gonna be right here when you open your eyes. Promise.”

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#obx3celebration #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj outer banks #outer banks x reader #obx x reader #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x you #jj maybank smut #rudy pankox #outer banks imagine #outer banks #jj maybank fanfic

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sodamnradd · 21 days

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“Give it up, Draco. You found what people spend a lifetime searching for, and you just let her leave without you.” Blaise fell back onto the leather sofa and crossed his ankles, looking pensively into the fire. “What I don’t understand is why. You keep saying that if anyone will win, it’s her. And yet here you are.”

Draco opened his mouth to deny, deny, deny. But what was the point? Blaise had seen them together in the prefects’ bath, and later, when Draco tried brushing it off as a casual hook-up, Blaise had only shaken his head and said, ‘I saw your face,’ as if that was supposed to override any lies that came out of Draco’s mouth.

His stomach had been a tangle of nerves since Granger had kissed him goodbye and disappeared with Potter and Weasley to save the world. That was the issue with Gryffindors, forever killing themselves over the next big heroic deed. He wasn’t like them.

“What would you have done?” sniped Draco. It was easy to cast judgement from afar, but Blaise wasn’t living it. “Would you just turn your back on your mother? On your friends? To hell with everyone if you’re in love?”

Blaise gave him a side-long look, grinning. “Are you in love?”

“You seem to think I am.”

“Do you see a future with her?”

“If the world wasn’t so fucked up?”

“Yeah.”

Draco didn’t really have to imagine it because it’s all he’d been thinking about since he first kissed Granger nine months ago.

It wasn’t just her physical being—the charged, tantalising pull of their bodies like opposing magnets—but a vision of what their life could look like. Granger didn’t need pure-blood persuasion to pave her way into the world. She could be self-made. And Draco would stand proudly beside her, as he did best. He could manage the accounts, pursue his hobbies, while ensuring Granger never felt alone navigating her mountainous ambitions.

Draco lived a satiated life, but with Hermione, all he knew was starvation. She was the one thing he didn’t want to barter or consume in small bites. If he had her, he was going to feast.

“It’s not that simple,” he concluded. “It’s not some playground romance anymore. She’s out there risking her life. I can’t afford to love her how I want if she’s just going to wind up dead.”

“Take this from someone who’s buried seven fathers—death is preventable.”

Draco looked up at Blaise, surprised.

His friend had an eerie look on his face, made worse by the fire casting strange shadows over him, but Draco knew the Zabinis had a complicated relationship with murder. And that’s what he meant: murder was preventable, not death.

“What makes you think I could protect her any better than Potter could?”

“The Dark Lord trusts you, you’re a sneaky fuck, and you’re in love. Nobody will fight harder to win.”

Donning a backpack full of survival gear, his wand, and the warmest clothes he owned, Draco used their matching bracelets to Port-Key to Granger the next Saturday morning.

She had woven the bracelets with colourful thread—red and gold for him, green and silver for her—and the next week, Draco had adhered matching charms to them. She didn’t know that he could sense her through it. That when she fingered the cool metal engraved with his constellation at night, he felt her presence. Or that it was a gateway to each other using the right spell.

Maybe he’d known he’d follow her all along.

The bracelet transported Draco to lush, crawling hills and enormous, craggy rocks. The sky hung bright white above him. He could sense Granger’s magic in the air, or maybe it was her perfume drifting in the breeze. He inhaled deeply, feeling closer to her already.

There was nobody around when he heard the gasp directly behind him.

He turned and saw the air wobble. The ward he hadn’t realised was there descended. Granger stood two feet away, eyes wide and lips parted. She was thin and pale and seemed afraid.

Regret washed over him. He should have come sooner.

“How do I know it’s really you?” she demanded, wand clutched tightly by her side, a combination of fear and hope flickering in her eyes.

Draco dropped his bag by his feet, taking three strong strides forward. He framed her cold cheeks in his hands, hoping she saw the look on his face and remembered how much she meant to him. He said, “Because nobody else knows how much I love you.”

He kissed her, and a second later, Granger threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, sobbing.

“I’m here to stay,” he reassured her, holding her tightly. “I’m here to fight.”

And he thought of Blaise in the Slytherin common room, the only one who knew of Draco’s whereabouts, and their discussions of love and death. And he thought of the future he’d seen with Hermione, and he thought he could have it, maybe even a better version of it. One that didn’t involve him at home, pursuing hobbies, but being worth something, too. He could be that. He wanted to be that.

Draco wanted to feast.

(873 words, inspired by Don't Swallow The Cap by The National)

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #dhr #dramione drabble #dramione ficlet #sodamnrad #sodamnraddrabbles

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nibbelraz · 3 months

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Yqy: this is penance for your crimes as god shang-shidi ^v^ sqh: do you even fucking know what I've been through. How many of my own problems I was putting you all through. The abandonment from my family, the lack of support, the loss of trust, the on going fear of death as I clawed through survival by appeasing others. Being a tool for someone else's suffering. Not being able to ever be enough for anyone. Being unable to make any meaningful connection with others, only ever being used. Being stressed and afraid and starving and tired and sore and none of it mattering because no one cared no one wanted to care and I had nothing to make anyone care for me. Then the miserable experience of having that a second time by a new family but with the agonising confirmation that it's because I'm ME and there's nothing I can do to make people do more than tolerate me. There isn't a single fucking person in the entire world who would care if I died past what use they could have wretched from my mangled body and I know it full well with the experience of two lifetimes to back it up. Sorry you had a slavery and now your bestie doesn't want to talk to you. The suffering Olympics isn't real but it's nice to know that I'm literally always designated as the guy to beat up when you feel bad. Would you like me to extend the tariffs.

It's really interesting when you lay out all the suffering Shang Qinghua has also went through like of course its not about who suffered the most but especially when Shang Qinghua is god of that universe you can definitely tell where he drove inspiration from on certain aspects of his life that ended up into the book like

You curse a God that created you out of survival

It's also interesting to see Qinghua snap once everyone turns onto him.

Yeah, Shen Yuan and him have those friend like fights, but when everyone is on you about how much they went through and how much pain they had, like, he really never meant any of this to happen, not only that he had two lifetimes of different types of pain to go through.

Everyone is so hurt, and it would be cool to see how they all navigate the hurt together instead of biting each other

#svsss #yue qingyuan #shang qinghua #btw anon the whole time i was reading this it made me think about how Yue Qingyuan probably saw the fight of Shen Jiu #and the defeated feeling of himself in Qinghua #nib text #ask

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yanderehsr · 10 months

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So Í kinda saw your post and I can't help myself 💦 I have a prompt, kinda more of a scenario actually, it was inspired by omniscient reader's viewpoint so, orv!reader

Orv!reader who's the constellation that help their own incarnation to survive rather than show off and left to die. They support the Kim Dokja's company and one day they accidentally falls into hsr world, the first person they meet is hsr men (Jing Yuan, Blade, Luocha) and they didn't know how to navigate through the new world so they got a bit depended on them as the result. But what if one day constellation!reader found a way back to their old world and was telling the hsr men that they're leaving so they can come back to their incarnation, the one they see as their child? What would hsr men do to them?

I don't normally read webtoons like ORV, but it's so good I made an exception for it😆

The reader is a historical constellation, meaning that they are human and can be overpowered by these characters

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping, Violence

Jing Yuan: Gets chocked that you found a way home, he never thought this day would come. That was the only reason why he didn't kidnap you, he thought it to be impossible. He can still remember the day you appeared, you looked so cute and confused, and now you wanna tell him that you're leaving?

He destroys any attempt you make to return, Jing Yuan will keep you here, he doesn't care that you view them as your children, you are now his, and he wont let go, he can't.

"You may have been something like god from where you were, but even you can't change that you're mine"

Blade: What did you say. His confusion quickly turns to anger, what do you mean you found a way home, He will grab you by the wrist, pulling you harshly towards him. He can't let you leave, you are his, always has been, always will be.

Why would Blade care about something silly like you returning to what you see as your children. He will pull a blade out on you, this is a threat he is making, he will cut off one of your limbs if you even try to escape him, he is sure you will be as beautiful as ever, even with a limb cut off.

"Don't cry, I told you not to try, didn't I"

Luocha: Smiles on the outside, plots on the inside. Maybe he can convince you, or maybe he can follow you, he throws both ideas out the window, he knows he can't convince you to abandon those you view as your children and he still has things to do in this world.

Luocha stops your every attempt, he can't let you do this, if he can't convince you then he will just seal away your powers somehow, atleast then you will come to rely on him more. He wont let you figure out that he sealed away your powers tho, he still wants you to trust him.

"I don't know how you came to lose your powers dear, why don't you stick with me until they return"

Don't know what to say here😅 I hope you enjoyed

#yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere male #yandere jing yuan #yandere jing yuan x reader #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #yandere luocha #yandere luocha x reader

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jennamoran · 2 months

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The Far Roofs: the Rats' Books of Names

cover art by Isip Xin

Hi!

Today I’m going to talk a little bit more about my forthcoming RPG, the Far Roofs. I’ve previously talked about

general principles,

the rats,

the campaign,

the Mysteries, and

my favorite Mystery.

Today, I want to talk about a key setting element:

The rats' "books of names."

So, the high concept here is pretty simple. The rats of this game are pretty cool, but not cool enough to deal with god-monsters on any kind of equal basis. The Mysteries aren't like Goliath to their David, at least not usually; they're more like Scylla and Charybdis to their Odysseus. Sometimes it's possible to negotiate. Sometimes it's possible to fight back. But a lot of the time, "winning" a confrontation with a Mystery is more about surviving. Making it through.

Except ...

Just like it was for human mariners, a situation where the whole environment they travel through is full of impossible horrors one just can't do anything about ... that's kind of untenable. Humans never made the sea safe, but they did learn to navigate it. They figured out how to sail, how to chart, how to not get constant scurvy, how to knot rigging, all that stuff.

In like fashion, the rats have this multi-generational project to, basically, nibble away at the "Mystery" part of the Mysteries. To not just survive their encounters, but to come away with a bit more information every time.

To learn, eventually, how to handle all of this stuff, all these monstrous divinities that haunt the Far Roofs.

The Books of Names, in short, are a sacred tradition of the rats and pretty much a defining feature of their interactions with the Mysteries. Most families of rats keep their own set. The shelves of the rats' great libraries overflow with huge and magnificently illuminated Books of Names—dozens or hundreds for any given Name. Over the generations, at a grievous cost, the rats are grinding down the impossible magic of the roofs into something comprehensible, something they can grapple with. To record truth, and insightful commentary, and eventually learn to live with even the greatest and most awful Mysteries.

What this all means to the rats is a little tangled. They worship the Mysteries, I think, and hunt them; they are hunted by the Mysteries in turn. They dream of one day defeating or destroying them, but I don’t think they’d like the world where they’d been destroyed. They are hammered into shape, both as individuals and a people, by the Mysteries, and I don’t think I can ever really fully express what these books, or the Mysteries themselves, mean to them.

They are rich, like cake, like wine, like a well-loved and annotated cookbook. They are generations of wisdom, bound in form.

To the rats, they are, I think, life itself.

Let me show you what an example is like! Like, what you might see opening up some rat family's Book on the Mystery Hoop Snake.

Quick Hoop Snake sketches, by Jenna

So your typical Book of Names is going to start with a couple of introductory pages, maybe some sketches or whatever, and then move on to what the rats call a Mystery's "heralds," the ... ways you know that the Mystery is near. The things that you see when it's interested in you, when it's considering haunting you, or just passing by. The things that it emerges from, in the world.

It'll usually start with a list, with lots of room left to go, like:

Heralds of Hoop Snake ...

* blurred vision * getting turned about * sudden light or sudden darkness * the sudden realization that something is, and has been, very wrong * * * * * ...

and then, like, a couple pages set aside to go into each of those more, with a mix of personal statements (often newsletter clippings, because the rats send these comments around) and summarized opinions or facts.

Like:

Blurred Vision

“I saw it on the road. Down the alley, past the milk crate, in front of that old cabinet someone left out on the street. I was rubbing my eyes, and they were a little blurry, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure I’d seen it, or what I’d seen. It was just this blur of colors rushing by, all these colors. And I thought, a flag? A mural? Someone’s shopping bag, caught by the wind? It wasn’t until I’d had that happen like three more times, these half-caught glimpses of color, in the rain, when I didn’t have my glasses on, from the corner of my eye, that I actually saw Hoop Snake direct.” — Alyona Waynwright, 2018

NOTES

Gavrilo writes that Hoop Snake lives in the confused sensorium. The world jumbles up, and Hoop Snake comes out.

Ioanna comments: “Little incongruities become bigger ones.”

Constantinope Volkov accidentally summoned Hoop Snake through an abstract in-progress painting. He could not later replicate this feat.

Elsibet Križ proposes a mechanism similar to the way that new, unknown scents temporarily seem like improbable combinations of the known—how your first encounter with a cat does not produce the sensation, “Ah, this is the smell of cat” but “oh no, my parents are being ripped apart. The world is shaking. Why is there peppermint?” You mistake the world, and Hoop Snake is there.

Meredith McCawley (human) comments that when she is very sleepy a pile of colored yarn can look like a snake to her; the passing lights of the cars, like eyes.

Kesterley Novác pushed on her eyelids to watch shapes spin. They got more and more detailed until one day she saw Hoop Snake! Trying to chase Hoop Snake into her eyes she wound up headbutting the wall.

Getting Turned Around

You are nodding along. You are small, they say. And meek. You are but a child. I will fix that for you, they say. You think, “Wait, what?” In that “Wait, what?” there is a snake. — Iodine Petrova, 2012

NOTES

Maria Augustine, Leverage Jordan, and Daisuke Ozlov attest this experience of Hoop Snake: “we are confused, and then, we are not confused. A snake takes its tail into its mouth, and rolls.”

Kaeda Vanagir was noted as having frequently become lost in the weeks before her June 1993 disappearance chasing after Hoop Snake. (May she one day return.)

Jezdimir Czerny likened the moment of seeing Hoop Snake to becoming turned around, to feeling like you know where you are and where you’re going, and then you look up, and you’re actually somewhere else.

Violeta Schulz was flung from a spinning ferris wheel and, before she landed, a snake burst from the bushes to, as the witnesses described it, “drink her down like wine.”

I found a Hoop Snake scale in a little store that I’ve never seen again.

Hoop Snake Scale

“I was literally just popping out to buy the news. Only, I hadn’t had my coffee yet, and somehow I wound up … I don’t even know where. It was a garden, up on the roofs, but it wasn’t a rat garden, and I don’t know where it is, and I can't find that place now. There was a colored banner, there, tied to a tree. It fluttered like a snake in the wind.” — Presley Weekes, 2014

Sudden light, by Jenna Moran

Sudden Light, or Sudden Darkness “There were noises in the dark. Thumping. Crashing. I thought it was the cats. My brain was so sleepy. I couldn’t put it together, except: oh, the cats got down here. We don’t even have cats. So I stagger out there. I’m not even dressed, just a long shirt on. I didn’t have my glasses on. Everything was just a blur. And I look at the cats, the thing I thought was cats, and like, for just a moment it was. For just a moment, it was cats, moving in the dark. Then it was ‘cats,’ like, one thing, one item, one animal, with two parts, that were shaped like cats. Like a dromedary, if cats were humps. It stuck its tail in its mouth. It began to roll away. ‘Like Hell,’ I said, but I didn’t give chase. I wasn’t dressed!” — Lucy Stokes (human), 2004

NOTES

Valery Merlin experienced frequent incidents of his electric lantern coming on unexpectedly and blinding his eyes, sometimes accompanied by a fulgurative scent. This ended when the flare of the light revealed a snake like a coiled spring; he fell over, the lantern broke, and the incident thus resolved.

Priscilla Augustine reports a summer cold that stuffed up her nose to the point of intermittent blindness, during which intervals objects would fall of their shelves, slithering or rolling noises echo through the halls, and glittering snake scales appear in unlikely places. Later, Hoop Snake appeared; when she complained that she could not chase it owing to her cold, it leapt up her sinus passages, cleared them out ... and vanished.

In 2007, Tsubasa Kysely reported such high levels of paparazzi harassment that “I can hardly see from all the flashing.” He would ultimately disappear in what is believed to be a Hoop Snake incident; may he one day return.

When our senses become unreliable, Eureka writes, the world becomes the inexplicable.

The Sudden Realization that Something Is, or Has Been, Very Wrong

“The funny thing was, that wasn’t the first time I saw the snake. It had already been there. It was in that picture frame, hanging over my bed: this picture of a snake. Sometimes it moved. It was in the background on this show I watched. I would go outside, and sit on the edge of the roof, and there’d be a snake there, all curled up with its tail in its mouth, and I’d say to it ‘hey.’ I had to keep moving it out of the sink. One time, I think, I walked into my house, but it wasn’t my house. It was the snake. And I still didn’t realize. I still wasn’t able to really process, here is something inexplicable. It was just part of the world I thought I knew, until one day, I looked at it with fresh eyes and went ‘oh my freaking saints, that is a snake.’ It was like it was laughing at me, when it stuck its tail in its mouth. Like it was making fun of me. I took a step towards it, and it rolled away. Another step. Another. But there wasn’t roof underneath me any more, so I fell.” — Mikhael Bygones, 2015

NOTES

Gavrilo writes that we often fail to recognize the presence of Hoop Snake in our lives until it has already been present for some time.

Meriadoc Ozoles was famous as “the Chasing Mayor” because she kept running after bits of colored string floating by in the breeze. It wasn’t until she caught one and it turned out to be Hoop Snake that people remembered that colored string doesn’t normally just float by all the time.

Maglev Brunsinick grew up in a burrow that turned out not to be real: he wandered out one day, and looked back, and there was only a snake. "I should have known," he says, "looking back, what with the way Mom and Dad were just internal organs. But, like, I was a kit?"

Torrin kept tripping over her grandmother's tail everywhere in the house. One day, she spilled hot oatmeal all over her grandmother's tail. "Oh no!" she said, and tried to clean it off, but her grandmother wasn't in the room. The tail wasn't reacting to the heat. Also, it was a snake tail. She dashed in to confront Hoop Snake; startled, it threw aside her grandmother's shawl, looked every which way in a panic, and then flung itself away down the drain.

Vasilisa writes: "What is reality but a snake we won't see?"

“At some point I realized that I did not work at the company. I think it was the looks people were giving me. Steve. Like, there was Steve, and he had this look in his eye like, ‘why is there a rat here. Why is the rat wearing a suit. Why is the rat carrying a folder with our third quarter projections.’ I was just strolling along, on top of my game and on top of the world, but I couldn’t help shriveling a little at all the looks. At this growing disorientation, like: Why is this place? What is it for? Why was I heading to my cubicle to spin around and around and around on my swivel chair when the skies were so blue; when the roofs were so high? Who even hired me? Who decided that this was the way life would be? Why do people who don’t do any work get paid so much more than us rats down here in the trenches who do? And the more I tried to just cope and keep moving, the louder the questions got inside my heart, until I spun around and I pointed and I said, ‘because I’m damn good at this, STEVE.’ He was so gentle. I was … I wasn’t expecting that he’d be so gentle. ‘If only,’ he said. ‘If only that was why anyone found their way here.’” — Rufica du Lac, 2016

Jenna Talking Again

It's basically that kind of thing! Plus a lot of blank room left for more.

After that section on the Heralds, it'd move on to the "weapons" of the Mystery, the way it hurts you, the way it messes around with your life; like, for Hoop Snake ...

The Weapons of Hoop Snake ...

* ridicule * confusion * anything you don't expect them to be * * * * ...

... but, I think I'll stop there for now.

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse at the rats' Books of Names! Don't forget to check the kickstarter out!

#the far roofs #jenna moran #ttrpgs #hoop snake #yes that's the same steve as from nobilis antithesis

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asumofwords · 1 year

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: 'I'm not here to fuck spiders' type of vibe. I am just going to warn you now, the reader is definitely a 'fuck around and find out' type of gal. "Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't'" - Lady Macbeth, the original man eater, my guiding light.

Chapter 30: Fire and Blood

For days you bobbed beneath the surface of consciousness, breaking through the waves rising to the top, looking around to observe your surroundings, your body still heavy as a stone before you crashed down into the abyss once more, tart liquid on your tongue.

You emerged from the turbulent waves again, eyes sliding open, head turning sluggishly to the seat beside your bed. Each movement of your head against the pillow made nausea climb up through your throat.

The world spun as you were finally able to concentrate on the figure that sat rigidly beside your bed. Donned in a tight green dress sat Alicent, watching you unmoving, with her lips pursed into a tight line.

She sat so stiffly, you would not be surprised if a rod had been shoved inside of her. As though you were to blame. As though by some inexplicable reason, that she had been put out by the actions of her own son, who had been encouraged by her bitterness for years.

How dare she fucking look at you like that.

Fury burst through you as you struggled to pull yourself sitting, desperately dragging your body up from beneath the sheets, grunting. The pain in your side was raw as you heavily laid your back against the board of the bed. You sucked in greedy breaths, holding in whimpers of pain as your side was alight with pulses.

She watched you impassively, having not moved as she waited for you to pull yourself upright. She did not offer help, nor twitch at the sight of you struggling, or in pain. She was every inch an Ice Queen.

You looked at the tables beside your bed, they were empty. No cups to throw at the Green Queen, no blade to slit her throat with, no makeshift weapon to avenge your family.

You stared at her, begging to keep your grief at bay, and let your anger rise above it all. You needed to hold strong. You needed to be a dragon.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, head tilted as she spoke.

How were you feeling?

Her son murdered your brother in front of you, chased you about the skies tormenting him. For years she and her kin have made your families lives a living nightmare. Her son usurped the crown from your mother as she forced people to support him. She made the realm a more dangerous place for women, ensuring that you would never become heir to the throne.

How were you feeling?

You watched silently as she fidgeted with her hands in her lap, pulling and twisting, waiting for your response, though none came. The skin around her nails were raw and bloody as they twisted in her lap.

You wished she would bite through the bone next time.

“I prayed to the Seven every night for your speedy recovery from certain death. You fell and Aemond caught you. The Prince brought you here, gaunt, pale, wet with rain and blood. The Maesters were sure you would not survive, but Prince Aemond insisted on saving you."

Saved you?

Saved you??

He was the reason you were in this godforsaken bed.

It was almost laughable. In fact, you did laugh, though the dryness of your throat caused your lungs to seize. A ragged cough forced itself from your lips as you doubled over in pain, clutching your side.

What had he done to you?

What was wrong with your side?

If he had saved you, why do you feel broken?

You sucked in an agonising breath as you leant back, pulling the white chemise up your side higher and higher from your body, slowly exposing your skin to the room. You grunted with every movement.

Around your ribs were thick bandages pulled taught against you. Blood stained the left of the creamy strips. Tentatively, you went to pull the bandages away from your skin, to look at what lay beneath.

“Aemond saved you.” She repeated, as though you hadn’t heard her.

You scoffed, but the rush of air caused your side to flare with pain. You sucked in a shallow breath, snapping your head to the woman at the side of your bed.

Her face had not changed. Ever the martyr. Ever the goddamn self righteous woman of the Gods who could do no wrong. Who could never be held accountable for the domino affect of her actions.

You swore to yourself then and there, that once you were healed and ready, you would kill her. Present her eyes... No. Her head to your mother as a gift.

As you looked down at your side, large bruises peaked above the bandages, dark purples and reds blooming across your skin. You breathed shallowly, fingers resuming their pulling on the bandages, more discolouration becoming visible to your eyes.

“He saved you from the fall, a certain death if you were to hit the waves below you.”

Your fingers pulled at a bandage with dried blood away from your ribs, the strips resisting as they had stuck to the wound below. You held your breath as you pulled the bandage further away, feeling the scabs pull from your wound, a sharp stinging spreading across your side.

Beneath the bandages, your skin was deeply bruised. A large gash ran around the side of your ribs from your front, to your back. Its edges were jagged, as though a blade had been roughly pulled along your flesh, the tight skin snapping apart from the tension.

Through the ragged and torn flesh were lines of hastily done stitches, their dark thread holding the wound tightly shut together. Every movement pulled on them. And the wound was swollen and red, there was no sign of infection to be seen.

You sucked in a stuttering breath as you placed the bandages back against your side, slumping as you watched the woman in front of you ramble.

“The Seven heard our prayers and saved you from The Stranger. Princess Helaena has prayed for you too, as did the King. You are safe here. We have made sure that you have had the best medical treatment in all the realm.”

You felt bile rise up in your mouth. You stared at her, unblinking until finally you spoke.

“My brother is dead.” Your voice cracked dryly.

Alicent stiffened in her seat, sitting up straighter as her hands came to a stop in her lap.

“I grieve-“

“Lucerys was murdered…” You cut her off. “By your son…A Kinslayer.”

Every word twinged your side in pain.

You breathed heavily, the strumming pain curling around your lungs as you waited for her to respond. The Dowager Queen simply stared at you, waiting for you to talk again.

You both sat like this for some time, willing the other to talk as thoughts whirled through your mind. You gave in to the silence.

“I suppose you have informed the Queen that you have me as your prisoner?” You inquired dully.

The Dowager Queen's perfectly manicured brows twitched above her eyes, lightly scrunching in the centre as she suddenly shifted in her seat.

Her fingers picked at her skin more openly.

Realisation dawned on you, as you leant your head back, looking down at her from your nose.

“They do not know I am alive,” You prodded, “Do they?”

The Hightower did not respond.

There was your answer.

A huff of laughter jerked out of your mouth, side twinging. Your lips pulled into a wide smile as you began to laugh, the pain from your wound ignored as joy coursed through your veins. You wondered if anyone else in the Keep knew of your survival, except those trusted by Alicent to tend to you.

You laughed loudly at the predicament as the Dowager Queen sat rigidly in her seat, fingers clenching in her lap. Your laughter peeled across the room dryly, wisps and croaks following after.

What a delight to know that Alicent truly had made a grave mistake.

The door to your chambers opened as Ser Cristin Cole and Aemond walked into the room, watching as you laughed heartily, clutching your side in agony as you felt the stitches pull tightly in your wound, fresh blood soaking the bandages.

You laughed louder at their entrance, their confusion evident on their faces as they came to stand beside Alicent, looking down at her, eyes searching for answers.

Aemond watched you intently, almost unsure of how to react.

Oh Gods, it just got better.

They think you've gone mad.

A cough worked its way up your throat as your laughter turned into a string of hacks, pain capturing your entire body. The bitter taste of blood pooled in your mouth as you coughed, hand coming to touch your lips delicately as you smiled through the pain.

“They do not know I am alive.” You laughed, hand pulling back to look at the spots of blood on them.

You leant heavily against the board as you looked at them all grinning, blood in your teeth. Aemond watched you curiously, eye patch once again gone, as he looked at your hand covered in blood.

You pushed your arms below you, pulling yourself up to sit higher against the wooden board behind you, as you shook your head gently at the woman in green, tutting her as you did.

“You’re all going to die.” You beamed viciously, “You know this… Don’t you, Alicent?” You pushed out a grunting laugh again as your eyes skimmed to Aemond, watching him as you spoke again.

“They’re coming for you. All of you.” You mimicked Rhaenys warning. You slid your eyes back to Alicent who’s head sat higher on her neck. “Oh Alicent, I thought you were smarter than this.” You chastised her, “Mothers favourite son, and fathers favourite daughter?”

You laughed again at the absurdity.

“You really should have told them that I was alive.”

You looked pointedly out of the window across the room, sighing dreamily as you spoke, the room silent except for your voice, “I suppose they should be here very soon.”

Aemond shifted on his feet as he stepped forward, placing his seated mother behind him. Always the protective young man you thought, as your laughter turned into little huffs of giggles before you finally calmed yourself.

The bitter copper taste in your mouth made you run your tongue along your teeth to clear it.

“If you continue to allow the Queen and King Daemon to believe that both I… and my brother were slain, you will find the Keep burnt to ashes before the morrow. If you were clever, I would send a raven.” You mocked.

“We have tended to your wounds, brought you back from the brink of death, kept you safe he-“

“Safe? You have imprisoned me in my old chambers,” You looked about the room as you spoke, smiling through the pain, “Your demented son chased me and Prince Lucerys around the skies when we were messengers, and allowed my parents to believe that they lost two children at the hands of your Kinslayer son.” You hissed.

“I would have sent a raven by now, though I have no issues with dying in the Keep with you all.” You smiled, looking directly at Aemond, “At least I will get to hear you scream.”

Alicent pushed up from the seat beside your bed turning to Ser Criston Cole, before swiftly leaving your chambers, the dark haired knight trailing after her as you guessed they were to send a raven to the Queen.

“Send my regards to my mother!” You called out as Aemond stood stiffly beside your bed, looking down at you.

You stared up at him as you sat lazily against the board of the bed, fatigue slowly working its way through your body as your side began to throb viciously.

You sighed as you looked at him, his demeanour confused you.

The silver haired man looked tired, large bags under his eyes standing out against his pale skin. Most likely due to celebrating his murder and capture of his obsession.

The One-Eyed Prince went to turn away from you, but you stopped him.

“Aemond wait.” You called out to him, false desperation in your tone as he halted to turn and look at you, eye searching your form before it paused on your bandages.

You swallowed thickly, looking down into your lap before looking back at him, pulling your face tightly together as you faked a sob. The tall man twitched forward towards you as you pulled your hands up to your face, hiding your sneer.

You dropped your hands back to your lap, looking at the man before you. Nothing but violent rage curled through you as you looked at him. Images of your brother dying, flashed behind your eyes.

You sniffed.

“You saved me.” You spoke quietly, looking him in the eye.

Aemond shifted on his feet as he looked at you, saying nothing.

You sniffed again, wringing your hands in your lap before touching your side gently, “Thank you.”

He still said nothing.

Simply observed you.

Come on you bastard.

“Thank you for saving me.” You looked at him with pleading eyes. You watched his form relax, the tension moving slightly from his shoulders.

Men.

They are so easy to manipulate. How dull they all are. You simply bat your eyes, put a little bit of stupidity in your tone and flash them your cunt, and they will do anything you say.

Anything.

"Thank you, uncle." You sniffled as you gave him a sad smile.

The Prince took two steps towards you, still towering over you as he watched. You looked into your lap, twiddling your fingers together as he stood beside you.

Look innocent, and sweet.

Quite the performance you made as you reached a hand shyly to grasp at his that was by his side.

And he let you.

You reached for that hand and held it as though you were a maiden, shy and unsure. You pushed down your disgust and the way your skin crawled at the contact of your brothers murderer.

You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles softly as you gazed up at him, before you brought his hand towards your face. You felt him stiffen slightly, hesitant, and so you put the act on harder.

You almost dropped his hand, uttering a gentle whisper of 'sorry'. His hand squeezed yours gently, keeping it in your grip. He was reassuring you.

You had him.

Hook, line and sinker.

Letting your lips pull into a mournful smile, you looked down at his hand before you brought it up to your lips. You had to use every ounce of energy within you to not bite his fucking fingers off.

Those rough fingers. The ones that had been inside you. That had touched you. That have held blades and swords, and books and wine. The same ones that had taken life, touched your lips as you pressed a slow and gentle kiss to them, shyly looking up at the Prince.

It was every mans wet dream.

He leant into your touch, his eye blinking. He seemed almost shocked.

Good.

You rubbed your cheek against his hand, looking at him with your sweetest doe eyes. Something you had learnt from your father. He said the eyes carry a thousand words that your lips cannot.

As you leant your face into his hand that was still clutched in yours, you smiled sadly at him. Pathetically. Like a bird with a broken wing, singing a sad song to its captive.

And as you watched his shoulders sag, and the tension leave his brow, and his lips relax from the god awful purse he always wore when angry, you let yourself smile.

A soft smile, just a hint.

A sort of smile you give to someone you might pity.

And you did pity him.

What a stupid fucking man.

You opened your mouth, closing it again for show as if in thought on how to thank him next. Perhaps he was thinking you may ask him to bed you. He could certainly crawl into bed with you, and you would certainly bite off his cock.

What an exhilarating thought.

You opened your mouth again and spoke in the most sickly sweet manner that you could muster.

"Thank you, uncle. For saving me. For saving my life."

You paused for effect.

“Now that I live... I will get to watch you die screaming.”

You smiled cruelly at him. Hand still holding his gently against you.

And then tension was back in his shoulders and face, and the spell you had cast was broken as the older Prince seemed to come to his senses, his one eye locked on yours as silence captured the room.

“You really should have killed me, uncle.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut

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alotofpockets · 6 months

Text

Moon | Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Based on the song Moon by Reneé Rapp. Reader is having a hard time sleeping after a bad breakup with Wanda.

A/n: This is a repost from an old account.

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1K

Sleep didn’t come easy to you these days, you spend your nights either staring at your ceiling or outside of your window, your thoughts never ending. The lack of sleep caused by your breakup with Wanda was taking a toll on your mental health. Though, your days tend to be better than your nights, during the day you have enough distractions to not miss Wanda. However, the second you flipped the lights off and you’re in this room at night, that’s when your mind starts wondering, thinking back on the time you spent with her. Remembering all the happy memories that you shared, though of course that only made you miss her more.

It hurts that she’s somewhere out there still existing, while you feel like you don’t sometimes. You feel like a robot on autopilot trying to navigate through the week. You get up in the morning, go to work, get home, eat, go to bed, and do it all over the next day. Nothing more than a step by step routine, a mindless cycle, to survive.

It had been incredibly hard to try and not care about Wanda, when all you wanted to do was convince her to stay. In your mind you knew that was never going to happen though, she had made that very clear. Not to say the breakup was all Wanda’s fault though. You had hoped for Wanda to see your point, to fight for what you had, but you ended up having different views. Talking about those differences had ended up in a much different way than you had imagined.

Wanda had come back injured from yet another mission, it broke you to see her hurt, especially because it happened over and over again. She would come back home with cuts, bruises and broken bones, mission after mission. It was getting bad to the point that you just had to share your thoughts on the matter.

“Darling, you’re hurt again, that is like the third time this month. You have to be more careful.” You said sharing your concerns. In hindsight bringing this conversation up right after she came back from an exhausting mission wasn’t the best timing, but there was no turning that back around. “I can’t very well put my safety first when I am trying to help people, y/n.” Wanda replied in annoyance. “When I am saving lives, I have to put their lives in front of my own, that’s kind of in the job description.” - “I know it’s a part of the job, it’s just that I am trying to plan a future with you but each time you’re on a mission I am afraid that you won’t come back to me, and that scares me. I know how important being an Avenger is to you. How important it is to right the wrongs from your past, but at what point will saving lives and putting your own in danger make it even?” You’re getting frustrated, as all these emotions have been piled up over the past couple of months. You should’ve communicated feeling this way sooner, you realize that now, maybe then you would still be able to fix this.

“If you know how important this is to me, you wouldn’t ask me to give it up.” You take a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m not asking you to give it up. I’m just.. I guess I’m just asking if you can work in the field less. You can be an Avenger in many ways, training or less invasive missions for example. All I’m asking is for you to prioritize our future a bit more.” Wanda was clearly not agreeing with you as she replied back to you with, “That certainly could be a possibility for some people, but not for me. I am not going to change what I love doing the most in this world for an outcome that is up to fate anyways. I’m not giving up on the one thing that makes me feel the slightest bit okay with what I did in my past, not just because you’re scared that I might not make it. I can handle myself just fine and why don’t you just work on being less worried?”

The tears you had been holding in were now rolling down your cheeks. “I can’t, Wanda. I can’t go on like this anymore. I can’t keep thinking you are going to die everytime you go out on a mission. I can’t, I can’t do this. If you don’t want to try for us, I think this is it.”

That was the last time you had seen Wanda in person. Wanda didn’t want to fight for your future together, and you couldn’t keep going without any change. So, that’s how your three year relationship ended. A part of you understood that it wasn’t fair of you to ask her to step down, as you knew how important being an Avenger was to her, but the bigger part of you still stood behind your own needs. It would have happened over time anyways but you couldn't imagine staying happy in a relationship where you’re constantly worried about if they’re going to come back to you alive, especially because she had no interest in being safer and more caring about her own life, in any way, shape or form.

The conversation of that night plays over and over in your head, while you’re laying in bed looking out of the window. The moon shines bright and you wonder if Wanda is having trouble sleeping too, is she looking at the moon, just as you are? The night skies stare back at you as in the stars, you can see her eyes. The only place left for you and her to exist.

As the light reflecting off the moon casts streaks of light onto your face, your last thought before closing your eyes was you wondering, when we’re looking at the same moon, do you miss me too?

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#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda x y/n #wanda marvel #wanda mcu

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onsunnyside · 1 year

Note

the cold is finally getting to me methinks bc im longing for king in the north!curtis 😌 big n burly in his bearskin cloak, your scary betrothed!! you're just a princess from far far away and he doesnt have to be nice to you or care about you but you're too sweetly scared to ignore

methinks he tells you that it gets too cold to sleep alone despite u having your own bedroom and clothes would get in the way of heat sharing so you'll have to be naked while you cuddle to sleep 🫣

i've always wanted to write a time period au and this has so much potential and more !!

resources were already scarce in your region and with the harshest winter approaching, your beloved homeland will be the first on the hitlist of bandits or other kingdoms, that is if you even survive the snowfall. and marriage will bring that security and power to your kingdom that your parents have always dreamt of. everyone thought Curtis did it as a favour to your kingdom bc it's so out of character for the king of war and bloodshed to tie himself to someone eternally (much less, someone so sweet and gentle). the King of the North was only ever known as the end, the indefinite death that lurked in every corner.

did you like him? well, how could you like him if he's never spoken to you, apart from the few sentences the day before your wedding and said stone-cold and uncomfortable wedding. oh, and you can't forget his gruff utterances as he passes you in the halls. he was intimidating, to say the least, draped in his bearskin cloak and his blue eyes always set in a steely glare as if he were prepping for war. you wouldn't be surprised if he was, he was known as the ruthless king after all.

You feel his hard gaze searing into your face, yet he's still silent and only quirks a brow. "You're upset." He states blankly, food is forgotten in front of him.

Across the large table, you wipe your nose, the same action that caught his attention in the first place. "N-No."

He clenches his jaw, "You know I hate liars." His deep voice rings through the dining room, the servants had left momentarily as per the king's request. "Come here." You almost say no again, but he raps his knuckles on the wooden table, "Now, princess." You stand from your seat and after a few tentative steps, you find yourself standing between his spread thighs. "I-I miss home." Your voice cracks, "I miss the flowers and the wisteria trees, I miss the pond with the ducks and fish. I-I miss the sky! It was blue—so blue, and there are only clouds over here." You hate to sound so torn, but you're so lonely! You're forced to navigate unknown territory alone, going days without even a conversation with your husband!

now, don't hate curtis. he's a very busy busy man, his kingdom isn't the most feared (respected ??) for nothing and his loyal subjects aren't prospering just because. he's been working nonstop to communicate with your hovering parents, and ofc, spreading the word that the most sought-after princess has been wedded.

you get even more upset when you don't see curtis the next day and the day after that. although your marriage was more of a pitiful agreement, you still expected him to comfort you, or at least to listen to your mindless weeping about the damn sky!

oh... as surprising as it may be for the rest of the world, it turns out Curtis has a heart bc the next time you see him, he's standing by a large door. with an outstretched hand, he brings you close, holding your shocked face between his warm palms and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead (the closest act of intimacy he's shown since your wedding).

"Your homeland plants can't survive here during the time of year, but these can." He gestures to the small garden, peeking out from the neverending snowfall was itty bitty flowers, colourful and vibrant amongst the white. "There would be more, but only so few were found in the forest."

me thinks... when curtis turns total protective husband mode and gives into his desires, he never lets you leave his side. you become his wife in every sense of the word, his other half. if he could, he'd have you on his lap during meetings or as he sits on his throne. don't get me started on the filthy stuff: you're a virgin, and he didn't touch you on your wedding night, apart from a stiff kiss at the altar. he's equally sweet and mean, lots of kissing and touching, but also crude remarks that he whispers in your ear to watch you get all flustered.

also: he persuades you to sleep in his bed naked, it's easy to convince a clueless girl like you. he starts off with some light caressing, then reclines and asks if you want to explore his body instead. one thing leads to another and well... pussyjob with big beefy curtis while he talks about how he can't fit inside you 🫣🫣

#king of the north curtis #brandycranby<3 #sonnysprompts #sonny drabbles #Curtis Everett #Curtis Everett au #Curtis Everett drabble #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett x reader

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twigg96 · 11 months

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Strangers like me

Daryl X Reader, Merle & Reader, Dixon Brothers

Era: PreQuarry, Quarry, Woodburry, Prison

POV: Merle's on yours and Daryl's relationship

Pronouns: They/Them. You/ [Y/N]

Summary: When Daryl and Merle find you starving in one of the houses they raid, Merle is more than willing to leave you there to die. But Daryl jumps to your rescue. Feeding you and restoring you back to health. Merle is certain that once you're better you'd leave them alone... but instead you just seemed to stick around. And Daryl seemed to cling to you in this weird way he'd never seen his brother do with anyone else before... intrigued and a little worried for his brother's safety (though he'd never say it out loud) Merle starts to pay a little more attention to the relationship brewing between you and Daryl. That is until the Sheriff arrives and everything goes to hell in a hand basket.

From the very first day you met Daryl, found starving inside one of the many abandoned houses that Merle and he searched and raided before they settled down at the Quarry, you both had been connected at the hip. Merle had thought it strange at first. Just a cute little crush for his younger brother to entertain while the world went to shit around them. A cute crush that could potentially become quite the fucking problem if you ever got in the way of their survival. "C'mon baby bro..." Merle growled one particularly rainy day when he finally had a chance to get Daryl alone. "Don't cha see they're just usin' ya?" Merle drawled a snake like grin crossing his face as Daryl shot him an uncertain and self conscious glance. But as the little stow away stumbled through the thick brush, proudly holding up a long string of fish they must have noodled out of the nearby crick, Merle watched Daryls eyes gleam and pride radiate from his very body. "Usin' me huh?" Daryl teased walking over to you, helping you wipe the mud and grime from your face in the most gentle way his brother had ever seen.

As the shit hit the fan and the largest herd of walkers the group of three had yet to see approached from seemingly all sides, Merle was certain you were going to die. That you'd be too slow to keep up. That you'd loose your balance or your weak ankles would give out. What worried Merle most was that if you did happen to trip, happen to get hurt. His moron of a brother would risk his own life again to save you. But you were faster than he expected you would be and even though you had complained before of your weak ankles swelling, a part of you Daryl had no problem touching and massaging on a normal day. Another mystery to the eldest Dixon. You seemed to be Leading the charge far in front of both men, pointing and leading them through the woods. Only for a moment did Merle think to be suspicious of your sudden athletic prowess. But it was only for a moment before you reached out and pulled Merle back from tripping over the root of a tree that would have sent him to his death over the edge of a nearby cliff. Feeling the warm squeeze of your hand in his Merle realized that even after you had safely navigated him away from the ledge you were still holding tight to his wrist, a worried look to your face and hot tears staining your cheeks. "Y-you gotta keep up old man!" You finally called back, stifling a sob he knew would have wracked you and slowed you down... Well damn. Merle followed you into a well abandonded cabin deep in the woods, one that he could tell just by lookin at it was a distillery at one point in it's life. Shoving what little furniture the cabin had up against the windows and doors the trio waited with baited breath as the herd pushed past, begging that none of them would tear through the thin walls in the night while you rested.

"Alrigh'..." Merle grumbled tossing his pack in the corner, glaring at the way his brother was doting on you, letting you lean on him for support to catch your breath. Your hand rested softly on his chest and if Merle had been a dumb man, which he fuckin wasn't. He would have missed the way you intertwined your fingers with Daryl's other hand. "Tell me." Merle growled sitting across from the two who seemingly scrambled to get away from one another in order to avoid getting caught. "Don't know wha-" Daryl tried to bullshit him but Merle could see right through his brother. "Ah! Don't try that shit." Merle growled growing more and more agitated by the minute. Agitated that the two of them thought they could just sneak around him with out him finding out. Agitated that his brother thought he was some kinda fool and couldn't figure it out on his own. But, most of all, agitated that Daryl hadn't trusted him with the truth earlier. "How long have ya known each other?" Merle hissed, gesturing between the two blushing kids. And god they really did look like kids to him now. Despite being covered in mud, walker bits and blood, they both looked so... damned young. "Well..." Merle huffed when he received nothing but silence from either his brother or you in return. "I already told ya." Daryl tried to lie once more, not daring to meet his eyes. "We just met the other day... you were there." You nodded your head a little too enthusiastically to try and convince Merle... something that didn't sit right with the older Dixon. "Bull shit." Merle huffed shaking his head. "There's somethin' more goin' on between you two..." Merle muttered jabbing a finger at his brother's chest then yours. "You two have been all buddy buddy since we picked the runt up." Merle stated watching carefully as you seemed to pull away from the crassness of his voice and Daryl... well if Daryl realized he was doing it Merle had no idea but he had shifted his body slightly to place himself between his brother and you, a deep scowl plastered on his face. "Don't you dare call them names... they just saved yer hide." Daryl hissed defensively. And there it was. Love. Merle sighed shaking his head a small smirk gracing his lips. But, who was he to make them realize what it was called before either of them said it out loud? Instead Merle slapped his knee. "Ah... shit. Thought I recognized 'em from before... must just be tired." Merle sighed, standing with a low groan to go set up his corner of the cabin.

After that long night, Merle kept a closer eye on you two from the shadows. He didn't distrust you as much anymore you were always quick to have not only Daryl’s back but his own and Merle warmed up to you coming to see you as more of a family member and less as of a threat. But that didn't mean that you got to just do whatever you wanted to his little brother in the middle of the apocalypse without someone watching your dumbass backs. Most of the time what Merle observed was tame. A small brush of the hands while you two walked further ahead than him. A bump of the shoulders while they were sitting alone by the fire. When they finally arrived at the Quarry, the three of them kept mostly to themselves finding the small group's leader that took them in suffocating and a hard ass. Shane, the wannabe jughead, was insufferable on a good day. He harassed you on a near constant basis when his own makeshift piece of ass wasn't around to keep him on his toes. "What're ya doing hanging around these fuckin' hicks?" He asked you one day while you were busy skinning the rabbits you had caught. A glare was all you graced him with before he plopped down on the log beside you. "There's more than enough room for you to bunk down next to us ya know... next to me." The perverted ex-cop cooed leaning closer to you. But, much to Merle's glee and entertainment, you looked completely appalled and disinterested. Flipping the man off you shoved the bloody skinned rabbit into his arms. "There... dinner for the young ones." You growled, walking down to the water's edge to wash off.

But, the bastard didn't give up easily. Even once the others in the camp had started to put two and two together that you might... maybe... possibly be in an intimate relationship with the youngest of the Dixon boys and were officially off limits Shane persisted. Merle watched you carefully on the days that the two lovebirds at the camp drank too much and tore into each other. It happened more often than Merle ever felt comfortable with and always ended with a very drunken Shane attempting to shove a wedge into whatever relationship was forming between you and Daryl. But Merle knew his baby brother... his self confidence was in the gutter. And so when another young buck entered his territory, Daryl tended to run and hide or duck his head. "Tell me something." Shane slurred one night, nearly sitting on Daryl's lap in order to slide between you and him. If you hadn't begged Merle to leave well enough alone earlier in the day when the arguing startled the deer the three of you had been hunting all day, he might have put the man out of his misery then and there. "Why do you go out and do all this men's work?" Shane asked drunkenly slurring his words, waving around his half empty beer bottle towards your bow and Daryl's crossbow. "You'd be much better off if you just stayed here with the women and... ya know did women work." Merle had stifle the laugh that bubbled up in his throat watching the way your face morphed from confused disgust to pure astonished hatred. "Ex-fucking-scuse me?!" You hissed. And lordy above if looks could kill Shane would have been fuckin' toast. If not only from the searing glare you sent his way but the absolute daggers Daryl was piercing into the back of Shane's skull at the sheer audacity this man had. But... it seemed that on this night Shane just wanted to test his luck with you. "Yeah... I mean." Shane grabbed your wrist flipping your hand over to look at the palm of your hand. "No one as beautiful as you deserves to have calluses this thick. Besides... you're too delicate for anything more than washing clothes." Oh yeah... that did it. Merle chuckled as you stood and brought the very hand Shane had been holding across his face. "Don't you ever touch me you prick!" You hissed. But something about the way Shane's demeanor didn't set right with Merle... He was too still. He just stared off into space. A look Merle was far too familiar with having served in the military and time in prison. It was a dangerous distant look. But before Shane could act on whatever was brewing in his mind, you stormed off into darkness of the woods, Daryl hot on your tail.

The argument that followed could be heard for a good half mile. "I said leave me the hell alone Daryl!" Merle heard you yell, frustrated and sobbing from within the trees. Merle heard his brother mutter something vaguely sad and soft. It was your first real fight so if he had to guess Daryl was asking what was wrong, or what he could do to help... the poor bastard. "You think they'll be ok?" Dale, the group's resident crazy elderly man asked Merle softly. The older Dixon shrugged, pulling the flashlight from his backpack with an annoyed sigh. "It's not [Y/N] I'm worried about." He muttered lowly, standing with a pained groan. "Fine you wanna talk so bad let's fuckin' talk!" Your scream could be heard all across the Quarry and Merle knew... Daryl was in fuckin' trouble. "I better go get his dumb ass before they kill each other." Merle sighed rolling his eyes. Merle tracked his brother and wannabe in-law down and reminding them that the walkers still existed and were dangerous even when they were pissed off at each other. You insisted that maybe... you should just sleep in Dale's RV for a while. With that said and tears rolling down your cheeks you stormed off back towards the camp. Merle watched you go for a moment before turning to his brother who for all intents and purposes was completely distraught. Daryl paced back and forth growling nonsense, punching the bark off of tree trunks, and grasping at the short hair on his head. "What the fuck?!" Daryl whined, kicking a dead tree down. Merle would have quipped back with something nasty and hurtful. He certainly wanted to... But he figured that maybe this time he should just keep his fuckin' trap shut and try listening this time. "They told me they needed space... so I walked a little slower to give 'em space. They got pissed when I asked what I asked what I could do then told me I didn't do shit so why even ask that. And now they want to sleep in the camper with Dale?!" Daryl growled huffing and plopping down the freshly made tree stump. Merle couldn't help but to laugh at his little brother rolling his eyes at Daryl's nonissue. "Wha' you fuckin' laughing at?!" Daryl hissed standing to get in Merle's face. "Got two bits of advice fer ya little brother." Merle murmured, a cocky smirk plastered across his face. "First... don't ever talk ta yer partner when they tell ya to fuck off. No matter how mad they are or what started it. Just let them be mad fer a bit..." Daryl stared at Merle like he grew a second head. "But I was jus' worried about walkers." Daryl muttered, shuffling his feet. Merle rolled his eyes. "That's the second tip little brother... grow a pair of balls." Merle teased, grabbing his own crotch for emphasis. "You say to me you were just worried about walkers but that's bull shit... you were trying to smooth things over because you know you fucked up by letting Deputy Dickface harass and touch your partner whenever he feels like it... that's why they want to sleep in Dale's camper. Not because their especially pissed at you little bro... but you won't do anything to Shane so they don't feel safe if he were to try something." Daryl flapped his gums for a moment but Merle was already headed back to camp. "Just something to chew on little bro..."

Over the next few days Merle watched you and Daryl slowly make up in the solace of the woods. If he actually gave a shit he'd say it was cute... Daryl did his very best for you. He gave you a portion of his meal every time you all ate despite your protests. He taught you how to cock and shoot his cross bow properly. Merle thought it was cute funny that you tried your damnedest to ignore the way Daryl's body pressed into your back, his left hand pressed to your tummy, explaining that if you took deep enough breaths through your stomach your aim would be less shaky. He almosted missed the way that his little brother's right hand was so gently caressing you to help you position your arms closer to your body and that his breath was tickling the back of your neck as he almost whispered the encouragement into your ear as you pulled the trigger and shot your first deer with the new weapon. But the crushing hug he gave you afterwards, the little twirl and small, “You fuckin’ did it sunshine!” That. That was not a memory neither you or Merle were willing to ignore or push away any time soon. Even though he'd never say it out loud, Merle was damned proud of the his little brother. Especially the next time Deputy Dog came sniffing around. Daryl was by your side in an instant despite having been at the other side of the camp when the ex-cop first approached you. "Heard you were takin' a break from the hicks fer a while..." Shane hummed moving his hand to brush back a piece of your hair that had fallen into your face. "The only thing they'll be breakin' is yer nose if ya don't leave them alone." Daryl growled, walking around the two of you to take your waist, pulling you close to him. Unbeknownst to you at the time. You were teaching the youngest Dixon as well. You taught him the patience to listen even when all he wanted to do was run off in a confused huff or get moody. Merle watched on a little amused as you taught Daryl to fish using only your hand, a gleam of desire shining in his little brother's eyes as he watched you rolling around in the mud bear wrestling a giant catfish to land. You taught Daryl compassion. Something that some what weirded Merle out as the two of you approached Dale and Glenn one day offering to help out at the camper.

The worst day of Merle's life thus far came the day the Sheriff arrived. He was certain that as he sat handcuffed on the roof he was going to die. Even as he sawed his own hand from his arm he was sure he was going to die. But the one thought in his mind remained the same. He had to live to make it to see his little brother again. Even if it were just a glimpse. Even if he just got to know he was ok. Days of mending his wounded stump within the confines of Atlanta turned into weeks of wondering the backroads of Gorgia as he finally made his way back to their campsite. Eating and sleeping from dumpster to dumpster became a regular occurrence and then a necessity as Merle crashed hard detoxing from his array of vices he kept in his bike's side satchel. When Merle finally made it to the campsite, only to find rows and rows of mass graves burried there, the cars, his bike, and the camper gone. Merle had never known that level of loss in his life. Not even in the midst of war did Merle feel so much pain, digging on his knees with his only good hand into the shallow graves praying for the first time in his life that he wouldn't find the faces of his little brother or his brother's lover. But when they all came up as members of their makeshift community, people he hardly knew due to his isolation, Merle wept for the first time in a long time.

Years passed. Merle was "saved" from a life off drifting by the Governor. The Governor's men had found him, starving, nearly waisted away along the side of the road one evening. They had originally tried to kill him, seeing him as a parasite within the bounds of their territory. But time after time, group after group, Merle beat them. He was either able to evade them into the shadows and tight spaces of some abandoned building, going deep withing the walker infested parts of the cities the scouts weren't willing to go. Or he killed each and every one of the bastards that cornered him. But eventually... Merle grew tired and relented. The life he knew in Woodbury was not lavish nor grand by any sense of the word. Merle was a lacky used for his strength and military training... he was used to entertain the residents of Woodbury and keep the other lackies and prisoners in check. It was his job and for a while at least... he was good at it. Why wouldn't he be? It kept food in his belly and enough booze in his system to keep him numb to the horrific things he had to do to keep his position. But to say Merle was simply taking what was given to him was a drastic understatement. No... He may have been a hard headed moron on a good day, but Merle had a plan. One that involved taking the governor down and taking him for all he was worth in the process. Unfortunately for him, he tended to run his big mouth when he was drunk. A habit he was warned would kill him one day... But, Merle wasn't in the business of listening to his little brother's dumb advice especially when he was certain he was dead. Had to be after all the time that had passed between them. So instead when he missed him... he talked about him to the only people who listened... the governor and his lackies.

When Merle found the little Korean squirt loading up baby supplies into that car, he nearly shit himself. If that twerp was still alive, you and Daryl had to be... right? He knew it was impulsive. He knew the target was the samurai. But if he lost track of the twerp now... he could loose you and Daryl forever and that just wasn't a risk Merle was willing to take. He lied to the governor told him he killed the samurai but everything was lost in the blast... a bold lie for sure but a strong one when he held a single lock of hair. The governor seemingly believed him for the mean time and even offered to help interview the girl. An offer Merle should have known better than to accept. But emotions were already high and his judgement had been clouded. However... Merle did not expect Glenn to have such a steel trap. The boy took blow after blow, ribs cracking, nose breaking, blood spilling all in the name of protecting the ones he loved and cherished. Merle tried like Hell to get him to understand. "I just need ta know where Daryl and his partner are... I'll let ya and yer lady friend go if ya just tell me already!" Merle growled finally pushed to the breaking point when Glenn spit all over him. Of course Merle knew he went too far after he threw the walker into the room with Glenn. He was just so confused and frustrated that Glenn was so loyal... Maybe the girl would be easier to break. But what he found in her cell, the governor standing behind her half naked frame with her pinned to the table sent him from frustrated to furious in an instant. If it weren't for the nagging part of his brain reminding him there was something he truly needed at the end of all of this... Merle might have gone rouge then and there. "Hey..." Merle finally got out, straining his voice to hide any emotion. "They... They need ya up top." Merle lied. This time not caring about the repercussions of this particular lie. Merle waited outside watching as the governor passed him by before walking into the room they kept Glenn in. The boy was bloodied, bruised and beaten. He had broken the wooden chair he was taped to in order to kill the walker but by god he survived. Maybe the punk had more moxie than Merle gave him credit for... Without giving the kid a chance to run, Merle grabbed him by the arm, escorting him into the next room where his girl sat covering herself. A wave of hot shame and posionous guilt washed over Merle as he shoved Glenn into the room. His only thought being... What if someone somewhere was doing this to you and Daryl... If he was willing to go this far... how far would someone else go? Tossing his vest at Glenn's girl he looked away, hoping that maybe if he was lucky he'd see his little brother again one day.

When the shooting started and the alarm was raised that prisoners were loose in the city of Woodbury, Merle knew Glenn's people had come to save them. Despite the impressive show he made of firing into the smoke, Merle did his best to miss the figures that crept and ran around. If you or Daryl were in fact amongst one of the few to be there, the last thing he wanted to do was accidently hit either of you. Instead his aim was at the Woodbury residents who dared aim a gun at the fleeing trespassers. God did he pay for it once everything calmed down... the Governor's daughter a walker he kept trapped and locked away was slaughtered during the fight and the Governor wanted blood. Placing Merle in the middle of the fighting ring, a position he wasn't unfamiliar with by this point in his career and life, Merle mentally and physically prepared himself. He expected the Walkers to be released on him. He expected to be whipped and possibly publicly shamed. What he didn't expect... was Daryl. His baby brother chained, beaten, battered, bruised, and whipped being drug into the arena with him. Worse than that, the very second he moved to step towards him, the Governor issued the very rules Merle prayed wouldn't be said in the arena. "To the death..." And so Merle did as ordered. He fought like it was his last breath. Using the governor's waning trust in him, Merle took the first blow sending an unsuspecting Daryl stumbling back. "Merle please." The words killed him as Merle stood over Daryl. But the eldest Dixon had a plan... he always did. Before he knew it snipers from the buildings above were firing down on the walkers and crowd making room for the rush of the crowd that rushed in, slaughtering whoever they had too to free Daryl.

Merle followed the group out, whether they wanted them too or not, Daryl refused to let them touch him. Despite it all Daryl was still loyal to his brother. But the group felt differently... and why wouldn't they? Merle knew he had done unspeakable acts against them... but he didn't ask to have them shoved in his face every two seconds. When enough was enough he and Daryl stormed off. Something they were good at. "Come on baby brother, your better off without them." Merle muttered, trying his damnedest to cheer his little brother up. But it all ended up just blowing up in his face... "We gotta go back to the prison. I need to go back..." Daryl muttered, more like a chant as he lead them deeper into the woods. "The prison? Why the hell do ya wanna go back there?" Merle asked, struggling to keep up with Daryl's determined stride. "Loyalty. Don't know if ya know anythin' about it... and I gotta... They need me." Daryl growled, glaring at his older brother as they ducked under branches. "I know more about loyalty than you ever will!" Merle had yelled. "Maybe you would if you had been there once fer me!" Daryl had screamed back. Merle huffed shaking his head. "Bull shit little brother. This ain't about loyalty. This is about somethin' else..." Merle mumbled trying to read the expression on his brother's face. "Whatever... this was a bad fuckin' idea." Daryl growled. Merle grabbed the back of Daryl's shirt when he tried to walk back to the road without him a familiar feeling of fear and abandonment washing over him as he did. The scars on Daryl's back were horrendous. And Merle knew exactly where they came from. "I-I'm so sorry... I-I never knew..." Merle tried to explain but Daryl was having none of it. "No... You did it's why you left... but it never stopped when you did." Merle couldn't help the pained laugh that escaped his lips. Daryl wasn't wrong. He was reading him like a book... when did he learn to do that? The two walked in silence for a while. Daryl tried like hell to get Merle to come back to the prison with him. But Merle knew deep down he never could. The people there would kill him. It was simple. When the baby's wail pierced the air and Daryl looked panicked, jumping into action without a moments hesitation. Something clicked. "They still alive?" Merle asked after Daryl finally handed the tiny baby back to it's family with a pained look to his face. "Huh? Yeah... Wha' cha mean by that?" Daryl asked, gesturing to the whimpering newborn wriggling in it's mother's arms as they all ran down the highway. "Not the baby, Daryl." Merle sighed. Daryl cocked a confused brow and craned his head. "[Y/N]? Yeah... They're still alive." Daryl huffed when he finally caught on to what Merle was asking. Pushing past his older brother Merle sighed. "You tell them yet?" Merle muttered, following Daryl off of the bridge. "Tell them what?" Daryl asked rolling his eyes at his brother's sudden interest in playing twenty questions. "That ya love 'em." Merle murmured. Watching as Daryl slowed to a stop, Merle hoped for a small second that his little brother would tell him off and send him packing. But instead for the first time since they reunited, Daryl looked like what he remembered him to be. Timid. Shy. And a little embarrassed. But still, the little shit nodded. "Ya want ta come see them?" Daryl asked softly, gesturing with his head in the direction he wanted to go. "They miss ya somethin' fierce."

Before this point... Merle had believed anxiety to be a myth. Something people made up to whine about or get out of work. But as he marched his way to the prison gates with Daryl by his side, Merle suddenly felt very small. It was a good thing that he had something to do when they first arrived... kill all the walkers they could to get in... but once they were done and the dust had settled, Merle was very aware of how many eyes were staring him down. Whispers of "What is he doing here?" and "Why did Daryl bring him back?" resonated deep within his soul. But one voice stood out above the rest. "Daryl?!" Your voice and the sound of your approaching footsteps as you sprinted to find him echoed from inside the prison walls. As you stepped into the greens of the courtyard Merle stood stalk still completely stunned. You looked stunning, your hair grown longer, your skin a little tanner than he remembered, and most shockingly of all... a little tike rested on your hip. The toddler clung to your shirt and buried into your heaving collar bone as you fought to catch your breath. Tears flowed down your cheeks as you ran to Daryl, who met you without hesitation halfway into the courtyard. "W-When you didn't come back-" You sobbed kissing Daryl's jaw before burying your face in the crook of his neck. "It's ok... I just had to take a little detour." Daryl whispered taking the little one from you and kissing their face, blowing raspberries on their cheek for good measure. The tike giggle and squealed in Daryl's arms pushing his head away from their own. "Daddy stop!" They squealed. Daddy? Merle blinked rubbing his eyes with his good hand. He didn't think he was gone that long... "Merle?" Your voice called out as he looked back up at his little, growing, family. "The one and only." Merle gleamed grinning from ear to ear as you wrapped your arms around his middle. "I'm so happy you're ok..." Your tone was happy and soft but turned as dark and piercing as the glare you shot up at Merle. "Merle Dixon... you know I respect you as Daryl's brother... and you know that I owe you and your brother my life... but, you really hurt Daryl with the actions you took in your past... now you have a chance to make them right. If you don't... or if you ever hurt Daryl with another dumbass mistake that makes you get lost or separated from us again. Know I'm going to be personally searching for you to beat your ass until you apologize." Merle tried to take you seriously... he really did. But as your voice grew thick and the tears from earlier began to flow Merle just couldn't find it in himself to even attempt to look scared of you. Instead the eldest Dixon pulled you close letting you rest your head against his chest to sob. "You idiot... You absolute fucking idiot." You sobbed.

Late that night Merle stared up at the stars from the sanctuary of the prison grounds. The groans of the dean did nothing to bother him much any more. The sound of approaching footsteps however put him on edge and forced him to turn to face his potential attackers. But, it was just Daryl, coming to sit beside him in the wet grass of the night. "Hey." Daryl muttered. "Hey..." Merle whispered back looking back at the door to see if you had followed him out. "[Y/N] not coming out?" He asked softly. Daryl chuckled and shook his head. "Nah... she just got Sapphire down for the night." Daryl murmured, rolling his eyes with a laugh as he caught his brother's judgmental stare. "Look we didn't name 'er that... She knew 'er name when we found 'er and we couldn't bare to change it when it was the last thing she had of her real parents." Daryl said softly. Merle hummed in recognition. "Ya got a cute kid..." Daryl nodded, rubbing his arm. "Thanks. Try ta do right by her, ya know..." Daryl muttered and Merle completely understood because he always had and always would try and do right by his family... Even if it killed him.

#daryl dixion x reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead fic #dixon brothers #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead merle #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd merle #twd fic #twd fanfiction

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roll-for-gaslight · 1 year

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I feel like there's something about this being the fairy-tale season and almost every character having the concept of childhood play a pivotal role in their story. Red and Pinocchio are the most obvious because they're still children and they are actively fighting against the role of obedience so often blindly given to children in stories with no more complex thought than "children should be obedient". Ylfa who is experiencing the horror that is female puberty, of growing up a woman. Ylfa who is learning to have a voice of her own rather than letting authority figures speak for her, who says "I might try to defy you every now and again" and is growing to be big and bad but at the same time is just learning to make connections to other children. And Pinocchio who has only ever been around other children and latched onto people who he thought would take care of him. He never wanted anything but to be a kid and be taken care of, and no matter what he does he's always tossed aside and treated badly. And there's not even a good reason for it, the world just sucks.

But what about Rosamund? Rosamund, who is a princess who has been taught by everyone her whole life that she's only valuable if she's beautiful enough to get a prince. If she's pretty and patient, she will be saved. Rosamund, who is only a child really, and her story echoes that of every young adult who was given similar advice in school that as long as they stay the path laid out for them everything will work out fine. She doesn't know who she is or what she wants and the system that is supposed to take care of her just isn't doing it. She's having to make her own decisions for the first time ever and she has no idea what to do with that.

And what about Gerard, who was changed into a frog as a young child and living as an animal forced him into survival mode. He was forced into cowardice, with no choice and no childhood and no one even looking for him. His whole self-worth is tied to someone who fell in love with him young, and then things got scary and of course he hid with the children. He basically skipped straight from child to adult with no growing up in between and so of course he wouldn't go towards the dogs. Of course he wouldn't go towards the giants. That's how you die, and when all you have in your life is your life you can't die. You have to hold onto something and a will to live is as good as anything. He's only now growing from a scared child to one of the grownups who wants to protect the children.

And then there's Timothy, who's story is about his son's childhood and trying to navigate parenthood and trying to remember how to support and care for children when they aren't who you expect them to be without erasing any part of them. He knows what it is to love unconditionally but not know how to show it and how to guide the people who are relying on him the most.

I don't even know what point I'm trying to make. I just can't get it out of my head.

#dimension 20 #d20 #dimension 20 neverafter #neverafter #d20 spoilers #neverafter spoilers #prince gerard of greenleigh #brennan lee mulligan #d20 pinocchio #princess rosamund du prix #ylfa snorgelsson #mother timothy goose #pib #Percy speaks #moss speaks

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 7 months

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🗡️ Clipped Wings: Chapter Two

Clipped Wings: After living a life in seclusion due to an over protective father, you sneak away to experience life as it really is. Slowly building up the woman you always wanted to be, your quiet life is interrupted when you meet a rather elastic boy and his crew. This is just the beginning of trouble and your carefully crafted life starts to crumble around you. The past never really stays in the past, and now it has come knocking. In more ways than one.

Warnings: Blood, UNEDITED (Ya’ll get the raw until I find time to edit!).

To Note: Dracule Mihawk x Reader, NAMED!FemReader, Some physical features have been given (hair & eye color).

Word Count: ~2.2k

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Your mother’s pocket watch glimmered in your hand as you counted the seconds. It was late in the night, or early, and you were counting on the schedule of guard change to give you the chance to sneak out to the hidden port on the far side of Esmereld Cove. From what you had learned from the maps within the library, your home had two ports. The main one which shipments of goods regularly came in every month and where the Lady Syl was harbored should you and your guards ever need to make an emergency exit from your home. The other was a hidden one at the back of the island for severe emergencies like the island being attacked. It was within a cave system hidden by a curtain of ivy and plant, and wouldn’t be recognized as an opening to a cave unless you were familiar with the island. Your father’s paranoia had come in handy for once.

With an option to escape the island at the back and far from the prying eyes of your nannies and guards, you’d be able to slip free of Esmereld Cove one and for all. You’d spent the last month and a half solely focusing on navigation and sailing, the prior six months on surviving on your own. It had all been under the guise of innocent lady Sylvia wondering how anyone could survive without nannies and guards to care for them and Mel had eaten your wonder up in glee for it kept you in the library. Well the joke was on her because it was she how had prepared you to flee from the island in the first place.

You wondered what they were going to do the moment they realized that you hadn’t just snuck out of your room, but left. Would they inform your father that they had lost his precious daughter? Would your guards search for you in secrecy? Knowing them they probably wouldn’t think that you’d gotten very far by yourself. You’d be long gone by the time they realized you’d hoodwinked them. The hour hand on your watch clicked two and you began moving, slipping down the hall from your room, you darted for the hallway that lead to the servants hall. Bongo was on surveillance of the servants halls tonight, but he was on the other side of the manor at this time while Don and Gopher swapped out duties roaming the grounds and guarding the door to your room.

Slipping into the seldom used passage, you held your side bag against your waist to keep it from jangling around while moving as fast as possible, as silently as possible. In an hour Gopher would be peeking into your room to see that you were still in bed, and he would see that you were… thanks you the hair your chopped off earlier and left tucked against your pillowcase. Sneaking through the area where Alanna and Mel slept, you had a few moments of guilt wash through you as they had raised you, but reminded yourself that you were an adult in your twenties and if you didn’t leave, you wouldn’t be able to see the world.

You made it to the kitchen and paused, by now, Don would have made it to the grounds and begun his rounds. Now you were going to have to wait for him to pass through the gardens before continuing your trek. So you hunkered down by the door and counted the minutes that passed, remaining calm and telling yourself not to rush. Nothing good ever came from rushing, you knew that much. Don walked quietly for a hulking man, especially with his armor and weapons, but you had slowly developed an ear for even the softest of feet. He wasn’t far from the kitchen door and was making his way around the fountain. You waited by the count of his strides and the time it took to reach the other end of the manor, and then went to the window.

Both Mel and Alanna allowed a thick layer of rust to build up upon the doors of the manor. No one could sneak in that way. So if you wanted to slip out unheard and without evidence, you were going to have to slip out through a window. They weren’t large, but on the controlled diet run by Mel, you had a thin frame that could easily slip through the tight spaces of the tall windows. Cracking the window, you pushed it open just enough for your body to slip through and slipped free from the manor. You returned the window to closed by pushing back in place firmly until the latch clicked on the inside.

Now you had exactly three minutes and forty two seconds to get to the edge of the manor grounds without leaving behind any traces. You’d stolen a pair of Mel’s cushy shoes to lesson the sounds of your footsteps and leave little to no evidence. They didn’t fit, pinched your soft feet (because what lady had foot callouses?), and hurt were they rubbed… but if they got the job done you’d bear it. You were by no means glamorous about your sneaking across the grounds, paranoid about being caught and general lack of knowledge of having to sneak around certainly didn’t help your case, but you made it to the edge of the jungle woods without causing any alert or alarm.

You checked your watch again. You had exactly five hours and forty three minutes to be long gone before you were roused by your nannies. It would take half an hour to reach the hidden cove and another ten minutes to prepare the ship for departure.

“Must make haste,” You murmured to yourself as you began your trek into the jungle wood. You knew it well by now, but even then the jungle wood was slow going without using the secret tunnel from the manor to the hidden harbor. The problem you’d discovered was that the entrance to the tunnel was directly in front of your room behind a fountain which your guards stood in front of. It hadn’t been an option in your escape plan.

Sweat was trickling between your shoulder blades and down your back by the time you were halfway through the jungle wood. Worse, your feet were beginning to slide in Mel’s shoes which meant your skin had already broken. Troublesome and irritating. Leaning against a mossy tree trunk, you slipped the shoes off and flexed your feet. The pain was sharp and stinging, but not unbearable. You were also on a time schedule.

“You can fix that later,” You told yourself, lifting your gaze and continuing to follow the mental map you’d made. Making it to the entrance to the cave, you slipped through the bushes covering the opening and stepped onto cool rock. That actually made your sting feet feel better. Almost there. You ran towards the ship hung over the water in a dry dock. There had been doubts about whether you’d be able to put the ship in the water alone on your mind, so you had figured out how to use some weights and momentum to turn the wheels.

So your first task was to lock the weights onto the wheel and get it moving. You’d spent nearly two weeks trying to figure out how to move such heavy weights, then you realized there was cart that could do it for you. Grabbing onto the cart, you pushed it towards the wheel, thankful that all your activity in the last few months had gotten you strong enough to pull off a stunt like this. When the cart was at the wheel, you took the tope attached to the weights and tied it to one of the wheel rungs using a knot you’d learned about and practiced. Secured, you lifted the cart up as best as you could (which wasn’t much because you were still very much weak and turned it in the direction of the cliff where the ship hovered.

“…really need to work out.” You growled, pushing the cart bit by bit to the edge. It teetered for a moment before fully tipping, they the weight sunk like it should and the wheel behind you began spinning fast. The suspended boat dropped to the ocean water with a violent splash and bobbed for several seconds. That was one task down. Boat in the water, you skirted the cliff and used a hanging rope to swing yourself onto the deck.

Landing in a tumble, you laid on your back for a moment and coughed. That hurt more than you thought it would. Keep moving, keep moving, keep moving. You rolled onto your side and got to your feet. Now you just had to wait for three sixteen when the tide would drag the water out and get you to where you could catch the winds with the sails. You checked your pocket watch, two forty two. That gave you enough time to focus on getting yourself ready. You dragged yourself to the stash of boxes and items you had hidden on the skiff hanging from the much larger ship and pulled yourself into it.

Your feet were bleeding and roughed up by your trek, so your first priority was wrapped them up. There was a minimal supply of medical supplies that you wanted to use only if you had to, but there wasn’t much you would be able to do for yourself if your feet were taken out of commission. So you grabbed several bandages and sat down, wrapping your feet and ankles to give you something to grip. With that done, you grabbed the navigation chart of the East Blue and rolled it flat in front of you.

Your finger rested on where Esmereld Island should lay on the map. It was an unmarked island. Then you looked at the surrounding islands that were in reach of the small skiff. You had chosen one, but it would be close given the supplies you had. Conomi Islands. It was an archipelago in the northwestern region of the East Blue and has several communities to pick from. You didn’t care which one you ended up on, as long as you reached land.

“Conomi Islands,” You mumbled, leaning back on your shins and listening to the lapping water. You’d broken enough gems from your jewelry to sell for money once you made land so you weren’t completely broke, but the start of your new life wasn’t going to be easy.

The ship had been pulled out to sea as expected and you’d wrested the sails free to catch the wind. It hadn’t been easy, it’s been near impossibly hard, but you’d done it with several curses and many broken nails. You had already laughed at having broken nails because Mel would be beside herself! So you took a small break to catch your breath and pick splinters from your fingers. Esmereld Island was long behind you, faded in the distance and you knew that it was time to take the skiff and head in the direction of your destination.

Your really couldn’t keep sailing a ship this big on your own. It was hard enough for you to figure out how to work the sails on your own. The skiff was small, with only one mast and sail, manageable for you who’d never sailed before. You double checked that you had everything you needed in the little ship before tying the big ships wheel in place so it would continue in the same direction for as long as possible. With that done, you winched the small skiff over the water and climbed on board. It rocked in the wind and you had to steady yourself before using the bully to lower yourself to the churning water below. The moment the first wave caught the bow of the skiff, your little ship rocket bow up and you felt back with a yelp.

Head smacking the solid wood side of the skiff, you were left sprawling and in a daze on the floor as it rocked and rolled in the waves. Your forehead pounded and among the cold splashes of ocean water you felt warm thick liquid run down your nose. Blood.

“Shit,” You grunted, pressing your fingers into the laceration at your hairline. You’d cracked your skin right open and it was bleeding steadily, but you had more pressing concerns at the moment. Sitting up in a daze, you stared at the horizon before twisting in place to see the larger ship plowing behind you just like you wanted. That sight made you slump back and sigh with a grimace. Part one of your plan was officially finished. Now onto getting yourself to civilization.

You sat back up and blindly reached around your something to stop the flow of blood coming from your forehead. There was a strip of cloth you had been using to tie a few bag of goods together with. That would do. Unraveling it, you pressed it against your pounding forehead with a grimace and wrapped it around your head several times. With it tied off you looked to the lone mast which now seemed so easy to figure out compared to the large ship you’d just abandoned.

“I can do this,” You told yourself, shakily getting to your feet on the rocking boat. “I can do this.”

Date Published: 10/4/23

Last Edit: 10/4/23

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#one piece #one piece mihawk #opla #one piece live action #mihawk #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #dracule mihawk

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