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#he's killed because he breaks his oath

rjalker · 2 years

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Do you ever think about Bialar Crais and the cycle of abuse

[ID: The Simpson's, "Am I out of touch? / No, it's the children who are wrong", meme, edited so the character has a small arrow pointing at them, labeling them, "Bialar Crais", and now edited to be saying in the first panel:

"Is the whole system created by Peacekeepers built on the backs of exploited people on all sides so that it can send them to their deaths without a care for their lives or exterminate them as it sees fit?

Should I take this as a sign that this system is corrupt and only causes harm? Should I rebel against the system that led to my brother's needless death? Should I rebel against the people who kidnapped us away from our family to indoctrinate us into becoming the next generation of kidnappers who traumatize children and steal them away from their families?

Should I place the blame where it lies--with the Peacekeepers, and rebel to make sure no more people are harmed by this inherently harmful system? Should I make the world a better place not only for myself, but for future children who will not have to face the same trauma I did?"

In the second panel, Bialar is now looking up and ahead with a blank expression, now saying, "No, it's the random alien whose barely-functional, primitive piece of scrap excuse for a spaceship my brother crashed into who's at fault."

End ID.]

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munsonsreputation · 4 months

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i can't talk to you when i'm like this

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [2.1K]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, reader has a history of shitty ex's, steve accidentally makes reader cry, a lot of angst regarding past relationships (feelings wise), steve's shitty childhood & terrible dad (brief), fluff at the end (yes because i am a softie)

summary: steve never raises his voice at you, but the first time he does, you can’t find it in yourself to tell him what's really bothering you when you’re seconds away from breaking down.

You hate how the tears coming springing to your eyes the second Steve raises his voice a little too loudly beneath his already apparent annoyance.

Your brain blanks out the second it bellows against the walls and comes hurtling down to your eardrums. It feels like glass shattering in a million different ways, cutting you open and killing you with a thousand cuts.

He’s frozen in front of you, blinking with a look of oblivion on his face because he’s waiting. His arms still held wide open after he asked a question: one that was posed with a tone too sharp for your liking.

“Why are you making it such a big deal?”

His usually sweet and gentle tone was long gone, or at least that’s how you heard it. Instead, it dribbled with irritation and resentment meshed all in one. The kind that sounded like he was fed up and wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

He was just trying to do a sweet thing by picking you both up some coffee and yet here you were starting an argument — you always had to ruin a good thing.

Your teeth dig into your gums, trying to find any way to hold off on the waterworks that you know are about to pour any second now. Cloudy orbs shoot down to your bare feet, trembling against the floorboards while you excuse yourself from the kitchen.

“I’m g-going to the bathroom.”

Your voice is delicate yet not the kind that Steve knows like the back of his hand — the one where you keep it so quiet like an oath when you whisper you love him when you think he’s asleep and no one else is around to hear it.

This time the oath is broken, cracked, just like your voice, torn at the seams between fear and panic. Its edges are frayed and tattered, and its tenderness that is usually formed out of affection is long gone as it cuts through your chest and causes your back to heave as you walk away.

He knows he messed up.

It’s stupid. You shouldn’t be so worked up over the barista leaving her number on Steve’s cup. But you are. You’re worked the hell up and you want him to understand why it is such a big deal to you.

It’s upsetting because you shouldn’t be this wound up and insecure. You know Steve would never even dare to dial the numbers left on the cup, let alone remember the name she left on there. He’s head over heels in love with you the same way you are with him — yet you just don’t get it.

You don’t get the way this makes your insides turn and the thoughts to start whirlwind in your head. At first you were just upset about the number, maybe even just mildly irked — but then the second Steve’s voice came to you like that… that’s when you entirely forgot how to even tell him how you felt.

Now you just felt stupid for making it such a big deal and turning it into this.

“Breathe….” you murmur to yourself jaw trembling as you try not to tense.

The tears finally roll when your back collides with the bathroom door and your shaky fingers lock it shut. Your heart feels like it’s on fire, one that consumes your entire being and engulfs you in the bluest blue instead of the blazing red.

The only thing keeping you from collapsing is the door that’s holding up your weight and it’s not long after that the person you love yet are avoiding is on the other side making it more difficult for you to attempt to make it seem like it’s not a big deal.

“B-baby… I’m so sorry.”

The apology comes in an instant, and you could almost feel his breath hitting your neck from behind the wood. You know it’s genuine…Steve has never ever made you cry. You feel now like you’ve taken everything out of proportion — you should’ve just giggled and said ‘oh that’s cute! too bad you’re my boyfriend!’

All of the things you wished you would have said play in your mind like punishment for the way you’ve acted. How you know you’ve turned the tables on him and made him look like the bad guy when he was far from that.

He was just shocked to come home and hand you your favorite drink only to be asked about the barista he barely gave his attention to. Your accusing voice after he did something nice wasn’t something he was expecting.

Your throat tightened, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to cover it up and make it seem like you weren’t upset. You shuffled from the door, towards the sink, turning it on yet making no move to put your hands under the water.

“I’m fine! I—I just had to wash my face!” You lie, trying to cover your tracks as if Steve doesn’t already know it.

There’s been times when things have upset you, not things that Steve has done, but things that life throws at you and most of the times you hate how wound up you get. Without failure, you sneak away, just wanting a moment by yourself to cry without anyone feeling bad for you or asking questions because they’ll never get it. They don’t understand that the littlest things can trigger something inside of you to completely shut down from the rest of the world.

No one gets it… but Steve does.

“Baby,” His voice is stronger this time, yet tender, “please, can I come in? I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Your fingers finally come in contact with the frigid water, dabbing the droplets over your eyes attempting to get them to settle instead of looking like you were just crying. There’s a sniffle that comes from you as you clear your airways and a pathetic smile that you press onto your face to try to hide how you’re really feeling.

The water shuts off and you’re opening the door, cutting his apology off altogether.

“I’m fine, Steve!”

Your voice isn’t swaying even with the volume it carries and neither with the faint laugh you give him when you meet face to face. Your lashes still bear the droplets of salt and your cheeks tinted red with the path they’ve traveled down.

He can feel the pain in your voice and see the wobble of your chin as you hold back everything inside. He hates that you feel like you have to mask how you’re really feeling when, in actuality, you should be furious at him for what he did.

“Baby,”

Sadness joins his concern, and he doesn’t bother to hide it — he’s not sure he can when his eyes leak the same emotion, “Baby, you’re not fine…I know you’re not fine.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes unconvincingly. “I literally am, babe… it’s cool. Everything is fine.”

He knows that now you’re trying to reassure yourself rather than him. Trying to play it off and make it seem like everything was okay. Like he’s just supposed to accept it and let you hold everything inside like torture when that’s far from what he wants.

Your attempts to brush past him are futile when his hands come out to hold your shoulders, his fingertips kneading your tense skin. He can feel the blood rushing from under your clothes and it’s not the kind of warmth you usually carry — you are blistering and if he looks hard enough, he can see the way your chest is trying to level itself out as you hold back.

It takes everything in you to not draw your eyes away from his because you don’t want him to know that you’re still feeling it. Feeling stupid and at the same time nothing at all because you don’t know what to feel anymore. There’s a whirlwind of emotions and none of them you can put a finger on because you’re just lost.

You just don’t want him to think you’re crazy… like you reacting to him raising his voice like that was something that would daunt him away.

One of his hands stops its movement on your skin, raising up to your cheek and cradling you gently. There’s a crease between his brows and his eyes seep with regret and guilt. His lips part and the words that leave them come in whispers and fragility — croaks and cracks guiding them.

“Everything isn’t fine… I acted like an idiot and raised my voice at you. I’m sorry baby, I—I never meant to do that on purpose. It just came out, but that isn’t an excuse.” He shakes his head at himself disappointingly because he knows better.

Steve was far from perfect in his own eyes, but he knew better because all his life if there was one person he didn’t want to be like, it was his dad. The dad that used to scream at his mother, and scream at him, and scream at the world when everything went wrong, and didn’t know how to talk if it wasn’t screaming.

He’d never forgive himself if he made you feel that way or even became a smidge of what his father was. But it wasn’t him who he was blaming for this — this was all Steve himself, and he knew that. Accountability needed to be taken from himself because the only person he was hurting was you and it was going to be okay.

Not in the heat of the moment, not ever.

You hadn’t even noticed you had tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, the faint taste of iron trickling onto your tongue when you realized you were biting down on the skin too hard trying to stop yourself from crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby, please just—just tell me how to make it better.” His voice pleads and reasons, wanting to make it right with you anyway he could.

You close your eyes, letting the tears fall as you feel his thumbs wipe them away. He’s done this times before, wiping away your tears that had spewed from another’s doing. Never did he ever think he would be the cause.

“I-it’s nothing… it’s stupid, I’m stupid and dramatic.” You swallow thickly, sniffling and twisting your fingers in your hand to fight off the lingering feelings.

He shakes his head. The obvious look of disapproval for your words covers his face because this was far from your fault. Sure, he was bewildered about the whole incident, considering he didn’t even know the number was left there until you brought it up, but for him to not know how to convey his frustration better was the real issue at hand.

Not the accusation, not the stupid number, not the oblivious girl who left her number: it was him, Steve’s idiotic actions that got you both here.

“Stop, don’t talk to yourself like that.” He insists, staring deeply into your eyes, searching for a reason why you were blaming yourself,

Your jaw shakes roughly before a sob rips through your mouth. Tightening your eyes to try to get the tears to stop, yet they don’t cease no matter how hard you try. Frustration builds inside of you because you should be over it by now. The fact that he apologized and was here trying to comfort you should be enough.

But something inside of you won’t let it die. The silence is filled with the memory of his voice shouting at you and the face that he stared back with.

“I—I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with me.” You croak, covering your face and turning away from him to save you the embarrassment.

But he strays to where you are, sticking beside you with a comforting hand resting on your back, “Sweetheart, nothing is—”

You sob one more, this time with a grunt that is direct to yourself. Stomping your foot against the cold tiles, your hands come down to grip the edges of the counter tightly. Your reflection in the mirror is only half of what you feel, and when Steve steps behind you, all you can see is guilt, but at the same time patience knowing he’s ready when you are.

You try your very best to at least keep your sobs at bay just enough for you to speak through them and for him to understand.

“You’re not gonna wanna be with me anymore knowing I can’t—I can’t talk to you when I’m like this! I don’t know why, but I can’t… it makes me feel stupid, like I’m crying over something so tiny and now I’ve totally forgotten why we were even arguing in the first place.”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head and reaching in front of you to bring your hair back and away from your face. His eyes keep yours in the mirror, watching at you with such a gentleness that even now doesn’t falter.

“We weren’t arguing. I was just dumb and raised my voice when you were asking me about it.”

You move your sights from his to the bottom of the sink, shaking your head, “No, b-but I shouldn’t have reacted like that and made you look like the bad guy when yo—”

Your voice is traveling faster than you can think, spewing out words so hastily like you have to make him understand that it’s not his fault, but yours. It takes your breath away, hiccuping and coughing between a sob that leaves your mouth and bobbles in your chest.

Steve’s instantaneously rubbing your back, shushing you and trying to get you to calm down knowing you going on and on like this wouldn’t do you any good. He understands that you feel a lot of things very deeply and sometimes it isn’t an easy task to get them all out at once: he knows it and he’ll spend forever with you until you got it all out.

“Hey, hey, baby, c’mon… breathe,” He coos, his palm never stilling on your back feeling the deep breaths in and out, watching the tears fall down your cheeks and drip onto the counter.

It’s a kind of scene he hates to see, the one he wishes he could take from you and shoulder instead because watching you in such a state breaks his heart more than he could imagine. And this time it stings a little more knowing that he not only cannot shoulder your pain, but was the one creating it this time.

“Talk to me, please. What’s going on? Why’re so you upset at yourself and not at me?” He begs, trying to get a glimpse of what you’re feeling so he knows where the root is.

“B-because… I made it such a b-big deal.” You hiccup.

When you swipe angrily at your eyes with a ferociousness, that’s enough to make Steve step in and take it from here now that he knows where you’re coming from. A warm hand comes down onto your shoulder, pulling at you just enough for you to face him completely, weakly hanging your head low not knowing if you were strong enough to see him just yet.

“You didn’t make anything a big deal. I promise, we’re okay.” He whispers quietly, cupping your face in his hands, and bringing you face to face, “You’re not stupid and I could never think that you were. You’re human honey. It’s normal for you to be upset by things.”

“B-but I…I don’t want you to think you did something wrong—“

He stops you with a shake of his head. “But I did. I did something so wrong. I yelled when I shouldn’t have, and I made you feel like shit.”

Steve desperately needs you to know it. That this was his fault and no one else’s. That him making you feel like crap was the worst thing he could have ever done, but he was willing to man up to it and try to make things better, and at the same time he would understand if you wanted nothing to do with him after this.

Still, even after his words, you’re somehow even angrier at yourself, mind blaring at you for being such a dramatic person for making him go out of this way with all of this. That this was surely your fault and yours only, and if you didn’t take it off his plate, it was just something he would use against you one day to realize that he didn’t want to be with you anymore.

It’s what they all did — held it over your head and made you feel like you were wrong for feeling how you felt, so instead it was best not to feel anything at all. To hide it away and hope that being noncombative meant that everything was going to be okay and it wouldn’t give them a reason to run.

“I-it’s my fault—” You pinch your eyes, gulping back a cry as you shake your head in his hands.

His brows pull together, eyes squinting at you, not completely understanding why you’re doing this.

“Hey, stop, it’s not your fault. Don’t do that. Don’t take the fall for me,” Steve assures you with a sternness to his soft voice, continuing to wipe the seeping tears.

Somehow you can’t let it go, “But—”

“But nothing.” He starts, his voice composed yet unyielding in his tone.

He can’t stand it, clutching your face a little firmer, hoping that you would peek your eyes open to see him because he desperately needs you to. The second you do, your face twists again with heartache, praying that he would just let you go and walk out already, because by now, he probably thinks you’re insane — there’s no way he’s not thinking it.

His lips part, trying to find the right words to say, needing the perfect ones to get through you because he hates how you won’t let him take the fall, the one he so rightfully deserves to come crashing down on. You are everything to him and in some ways the feelings that you feel hit him right in the heart, and right now is no different, but there’s a wall between you both and his only goal is to knock it down completely.

“I—I don’t know why you feel like you have to protect me, but I promise you don’t.” He whispers, watching as you try to calm yourself, little sniffles going in and out and broken cries leaving your mouth.

His thumbs rub back and forth across your cheeks, soothing your withering skin. Slowly but surely your cries die little by little, eyes fixed on his, trusting that he means everything that he says, because Steve isn’t like the others — something that you should’ve known judging from his character alone.

“If I do something that makes you upset or sad, you should be able to voice that, not keep it in. I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t tell me when I’ve done something wrong. I—I want you to feel safe and okay around me, enough to know that my love for you isn’t gonna change, just because you bring something up. You have every right to be upset, and angry, and disappointed, everything.”

He says it like he means it and you know it’s because he does. He lets every word hang from the stars as if he put them up there, and points them out just for you to know that they are there and true, because that’s all he ever wanted. For you to know that every word he speaks comes from his heart, and no matter how many times he needs to repeat it, he’ll do it over and over again, just so you know it’s real and until you believe them and know he won’t ever break them.

“Don’t ever blame yourself for me, please? I-I don’t want you to do that to yourself because I’m here and…and every time I fuck up or make a mistake, I swear I’m gonna own up to it and try to fix it. But I’m not gonna let you take the blame, okay?”

Being with Steve for so long still feels so new, especially when you know he isn’t like the rest of the boys from your past. He’s patient and kind with a big heap of understanding. Like everyone else in the world, he’s guilty of his own poor moments, but he’ll be damned if he takes that out on you or makes you feel like it’s your responsibility.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He murmurs, letting his hands fall away from your face, letting you decide what the next move is.

The tears that escape are more so in between the remains of the sadness being washed away with tears of love and gratitude. Your arms wrap around his torso, pulling yourself into him and burying your face into his chest where the tears soak through his chest. Without a second thought, his arms envelop you, rocking you both back and forth as he presses kisses on the top of your head.

It mends your heart not merely because he’s just sorry, but because you didn’t get plenty of sorries before. Left only with sweeping things under the rug and pretending like nothing ever happened — it never solved anything and never gave you much.

But Steve gives you everything and so much more.

A big chunk of you feels like you don’t deserve him because he seriously is the best person with an even better soul wrapped up into one and yet he chooses you — every day. He sees you through all the good and the bad and never makes you feel like you’re alone even when you could be a distance away when you’re right beside him.

When you talk too much, say too little, or sometimes say nothing at all — he’s there giving you a listening ear and comforting shoulder to lean on whoever you need it. And on the days when you can’t talk to him when you’re like this… he’ll wait until you’re ready and show you that he’s always going to be there every step of the way.

He’s everything you could have asked for and more.

You pull your face away from hiding, resting your chin up on his chest as you stared up at him.

“I’m sorry too. I—I shouldn’t have been so indifferent earlier and just told you what I was feeling from the get-go.” You sniffled, rubbing your hands over his back, smiling faintly when he nodded understandingly.

He knows that sometimes he might not quite get it, might not see things in the same light as you, but he would never try to dismiss your feelings. He would sit beside you through the storms and sunshines, knowing that he was learning more about himself and you with you in his life.

That because of you, the younger version of himself got to heal his deepest wounds and open himself up to a love he only through he could dream up. You were here making him a better version of himself, all while he was doing the same for you. Showing you that the scars and fears of your past didn’t have to live in the next person you met — that you could let it go and open yourself up to the love you deserved.

His love.

“I forgive you only if you forgive me,” Steve grinned, swiping away at the dampness on your cheeks.

You grinned, nodding up at him. “Of course, I forgive you.”

“I love you so much… nothings ever gonna change that.” He hummed, cupping your face, taking you all in for the person he loved so dearly.

You closed your eyes blissfully before a kiss was placed on your lips.

“I know, I love you too.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: hi all, I hoped you like this little one-shot/imagine... i had this one sitting in my wips for awhile and it was nearly finished but I didn't have the inspiration to finish it until now. I don't usually write angst bcs i am a fluff girl, but this concept just came to me bcs like a lot of people when someone raises their voice at me...i just freeze and i don't know what to make of it and i just start crying. i think steve would be super apologetic and i wanted to write this bcs i needed some stevie!comfort so yeah... i hope you all enjoyed!!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

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linkemon · 2 months

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Confession headcanons

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Other headcanons from this series can be found here.

Part 1 | Part 3 of the confession headcanons.

This part contains: Sebek Zigvolt, Leona Kingscholar and Azul Ashengrotto.

Sebek Zigvolt

• Sebek would experience shock after shock before he even confessed his feelings. The first clash with reality would be the realization that he loves someone. What is it about you being on his mind all the time? That he would like to protect you from all the troubles surrounding you? That he feels boundless pride when you praise him for the smallest things? He can't sleep at night and gets up to do extra sets of push-ups to calm down. It would get to the point where he would get frustrated and ask Lilia for advice. Is this the ideal person to turn to in this situation? In his opinion for sure...

• How much fun Vanrouge would have at his expense! His, not so little anymore Sebek, experiences his first love affair. In addition, with a human being. What a chuckle of fate. Apparently, his student had learned something in life. Lilia would give Sebek some advice, not all of which would be entirely accurate. Well, he won't make everything easy for him! And it's funny to watch him hand you a rare Briar Valley frog and hope it wins your heart. It's a pity the knight didn't tell you that to get this frog he had to kill several magical creatures during the holidays, you would probably look at it differently...

• Sebek would have a hard time accepting the fact that he fell in love with a human. Of course, his opinion changed gradually as he got to know you, but realizing that he had done exactly what he sometimes criticized his mother for would be like a bucket of cold water. He even tried to find arguments against it but every time he saw your face in front of his eyes, he decided that he couldn't do it.

• He definitely ran for Malleus' "blessing" once he was sure he wanted to be with you. Of course, he solemnly promised that it would not interfere with his duties. The prince didn't mind. He was happy that he would have the opportunity to see his friend more often.

• Briar Valley still has some slightly old-fashioned traditions. Although Sebek is aware that couples date and break up, he is intentionally trying to marry you in the distant future, from the very beginning.

• His confession consisted of an oath. After all, he is a knight in flesh and blood. With a bouquet of wildflowers, he knelt down and announced that he was going to defend, protect and love you until his last breath. If you let him, he will try to be worthy of you, the lady of his heart. He came up with this idea while reading chivalric romances so the ride back to your dormitory on a white horse is basically a complete must-have...

Leona Kingscholar

• Leona would never be the first to admit the feeling growing in his heart. He has more important things on his mind than love. For example, a nap! And the fact that he ordered you to stay and sleep with him under threat was a completely different story.

• You decided to take matters into your own hands, because what is it supposed to be? You act like you're in a relationship. Your friends keep asking if you're a couple and you never know what to say, because they won't ask Kingscholar out of fear and it always falls on you. Grim sincerely hopes you are together. In his eyes, a rich prince means an endless supply of tuna. Even if he calls him a furball every chance he gets.

• One day, in a botanical garden, surrounded by beautiful flowers, you asked this one important question. Who wouldn't love me? That's what the sarcastic Leona said in response to your confession. Immediately afterwards, he squinted his eyes and happily went back to his fake nap.

• Outraged that he didn't even take you seriously, you tried to get up but failed. He hugged you tightly and pulled you to his chest. Only when you were so close to him did you realize how fast his heart was beating. You didn't know if all beasts were like that but the ghost of a smile on his lips confirmed your belief that they probably weren't. You didn't say anything for a moment, just listening to the fast rhythm. Just as you were about to say something, he opened his eyes and told you that you two could go out if you cared so much. Then he turned to his other side, saying that herbivores probably had nothing better to think about.

• Only on the verge of your sleep, wrapped in warmth, amid the scent of sweet flowers, did you hear a quiet voice in your ear "I love you", spoken in a deep and confident voice.

• You didn't want him to feel unpunished for such treatment, so for the next week you made it your goal to tell everyone you could that you were in a relationship. At first you thought it wouldn't bother him much, but when others started repeating it, he felt embarrassed, which he didn't hesitate to tell you when he really had had enough. At first it seemed to you that he wouldn't be much moved, but when others started repeating it, he felt embarrassed, which he didn't hesitate to tell you when he really had enough.

Azul Ashengrotto

• There is no way he would try to confess his love before he has tried every means available to him to see if you feel the same way. The idea of revealing himself to someone to such an extent terribly terrifies him. It doesn't matter that you saw him at his lowest point during the overblot, it doesn't change anything about it.

• He wouldn't send the twins to do anything related to this "project" as he called it in his head. He doesn't even talk about it because he knows they would be making fun of him for weeks to come, especially Floyd. The truth is that Jade realized it incredibly quickly, but he's waiting for the right opportunity to take advantage of it...

• Azul would have dozens of plans for every eventuality and somehow everything would still fall apart. The first and most important rule he adopted was to stay away from Mostro Lounge. He took you to his home sea under the pretext of sightseeing. If something went wrong, no one from the academy would see it and he would have time to collect himself. At this first point his perfect plan ended.

• First, something broke in your transportation to the museum he wanted to take you to. Then it turned out that the crab serving you didn't want to let you in, mumbling something about being late. Without losing his nerve, Azul proposed his plan B, which was a restaurant. Of course, previously checked by him. But what good is it, since the owner broke the tentacle and closed it that same morning, leaving only a note on the door that she was very sorry. On top of it all, his favorite alley in the underwater park was destroyed by a herd of wild seahorses. That sealed his defeat. He meant well but it didn't work out. Tired, he lowered his hat and rubbed his glasses, pretending that he had not spilled a tear of ink at all.

• You had to come to his aid because you couldn't watch him struggle with his thoughts. You placed a kiss on his cheek, telling him that you had fun because you spent a lot of time with him and that you were happy because he rarely gave up work for someone. This gave him confidence and with a sigh, he led you to a place he wasn't particularly fond of but one he knew would be quiet and peaceful. It was on one of the coral terraces that he hid in from kids who tormented him when he was little. When he confessed his feelings to you and you replied that you reciprocated them, he felt that at least now he would have happy memories of this place.

• Azul doesn't need to know that Jade exposed him some time ago and he sold you the information that his boss reciprocated your feelings for quite a favour...

#twisted wonderland x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #confessions #headcanons #black chariot #confession #twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt #azul ashengrotto #leona kingscholar

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brailsthesmolgurl · 21 days

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Remember me?

Preview: You had gotten into a terrible accident. What happens when your memory of him had faded? What would he do to regain your love for him?

Warnings: Angst with comfort. Suggestive as well ;)

P.S: Xavier girlies really be getting a treat because I made sure to make his part a little longer than usual as i always struggled with writing Xavier :,)

ZAYNE

Rushing into the ER, Zayne’s footsteps came to a sudden halt when he watched you getting pushed into a room on a stretcher, a crash cart finding its way next to your side. He had received a call from your colleague Tara, crying on the phone explaining that your heroic actions had been a disastrous one as your were outnumbered by a sudden influx of wanderers. You managed to kill most of them, but in return, you too sustained some severe injuries.

Prior to Tara's call, you had tried to call Zayne, or in fact, just trying to reach out to anyone possible as you knew that you were not going to pull through the next hit. But as you were about to press the green dial button, a wanderer charged towards you from behind and successfully knocked you down. You would have easily avoided that collision if you were not in such a weakened and drained state. When your back hit the ground, your vision immediately turned black like a television that got turned off.

“Dr. Zayne, you have to leave.” The attending instructed the nurses to push him back but Zayne turned, knowing the Hippocratic oath he had taken had to be respected as the other doctors would serve you within your best interest. The man returned to his office, his mind a blank slate as he did not know nor expected to see you in such a condition. You were knocked out cold, blood painting your face as it flowed down from the top of your scalp. Your clothes were torn and roughed up, showing lacerations that calls for infections. Doctors and nurses in the ER swarmed you, tugging off the covers to reveal a gaping hole on the side of your hip.

He could not bring his feet to leave, stagnant at his current spot as he watched nurses intubated you, doctors drawing cultures from your body so it could be tested in the lab. It did not fazed him when this is a norm for him on a daily basis, yet he could not help but to be bothered at the fact he could not do anything as he watched you from the point of a bystander. The memories of you laying in the scarlet tainted bed would never be out of his mind ever again.

The next day, Zayne stopped by your room during his lunch break, a paper cup in his hand, filled with hot chocolate. His lunch break would usually be spent in his room, with one of the nurses stopping by to hand him his meal and he shall eat in peace in his office while going through patient files or simply read a book for his own entertainment. But it is different this time, he had abandoned his lunch break routine just to stand at the window that views directly into your room.

He mentally counted the amount of tubes that were attached to your limbs. Two IV poles stood on each side of your bed, like guards on duty, holding up packs of liquid substances that works to provide nutrients for your injured body. Your face had a couple of plasters on them, mimicking patches of your skin, while protecting your wounds from getting contaminated. Zayne had to constantly remind himself that you were just taking a nap but his logical mind would not let him succumb to those imaginary thoughts. You are in fact, in a concussed state.

It took two days for Zayne to receive a notification from his pager informing him about you regaining consciousness and the cardiologist was quick to dismiss his current patient, jotting a quick prescription and handing it to them. When he was asked why was he in a hurry, he came up with a banal excuse that has something to do with a toilet break and he rushed out of his room with hasty footsteps. Taking the stairs straight to the second floor instead of riding the elevator as he has no time to waste. When he arrived at your room, he waltzed right in. Your attending stood next to you, going through the charts, chatting with one of her cohorts, fingers pointing on the chart from one end to another, perhaps discussing about another possible upcoming diagnosis.

“Y/n.” His voice was surprisingly calm as he approached you but the attending doctor of yours held him by his arm and a shake of her head indicated a warning sign. Zayne looked at the two doctors and back towards you, eyes of hazel-green meeting yours. “What is the diagnostic?”

“She had just woken up from her concussion, head trauma might suggest short-term amnesia. But it was unsure how long it would take for her to recover her memories. So, if she does not remember you, I would suggest taking things slow.” The doctor informed Zayne, her tone professional but certainly held hints of wariness. It was rare to see Zayne being emotional over a patient, let alone this patient who is not even within his care. She surely is a special one to Zayne, the attending assumed and together with her colleague, they both left the room to give Zayne and y/n some space.

You watched the guy doctor approached, his face held no emotions. You caught the black name tag on his coat, ZAYNE. He looked surprisingly young to be a doctor, it made you wonder what department he works in. His raven hair was neatly styled, framing his chiseled features well. For a moment, you had a sense of deja vu, as if you remembered him from somewhere. But the memories vaporised as soon as you tried to recall it, making this man in front of you a total mystery.

“Hi.” You smiled, cheery as ever but with a nasally voice. You figured he must care for you if he were to come and visit you during his working hours right? Zayne’s eyes lit up as he took a seat right next to your bedside. “Thanks for visiting me, although…I am not quite sure who you are. But still, thank you.” The doctor’s emerging smile dropped, realising that your amnesia would have been more serious than what was estimated.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Weeks had passed by, then came along with months but even till now, your memories remained black. You do not recall Zayne at all, his face provided not even a bit of a vague memory of both of your shared past, his voice sounded still as stoic and foreign, but you always had this bubbling feel within your belly, and it only ever comes around when you are with him. This applies for the moments when he would come to your office to pick you up, suddenly stopping by your house to hand you some of desserts that he managed to discover, and spending what you thought was unnecessary effort for someone that he 'barely knew'.

Pushing the glass door open, you stepped into a coffee shop, the waft of coffee beans and freshly baked pastries enveloped your nose. This place looked familiar to you with cosy warm lightings on all corners, booth seatings made out of plush velvet cushions and wooden tables that have carvings on it that surely cost the coffee shop a pretty penny. Your eyes scanned the occupied seats and rested upon a figure in a man in a white button up. His posture was straight, head tilted just low enough to capture the phone's screen.

Once you got close enough, the doctor reacted naturally when he spotted the outline of your shadow. He did chose to sit in an obscure corner, so if someone were to approach, he would automatically assume its you. With a tap of a button, the screen on his phone turned dark and he looked up, adjusting his spectacles that was perched on his nose bridge. “You are late.” He stated as he quietly studied your outfit for today. A white turtle neck with a pair of black jeans, put together with a black leather jacket that compliments your jet black boots. Simple but stylish. “I had already ordered for you, the usual of course.” He held up the ceramic cup and drank from it, feeling the warm coffee hitting the back of his throat, leaving a bitter trail for his taste buds.

“I’m sorry, I just got delayed by traffic but thank you for ordering for me, it was nice of you to do so.” Too nice. Ever since you had regained full range of motion and slowly got back onto your feet, you had became too nice that it was a strange phenomenon for Zayne. Low-key, he missed your borderline witty retorts and occasional petty remarks. That was a part of you that he longed for. “So, why are we here again?”

The young man swirled the coffee in his cup, watching the liquid sloshed around. “I just figured you might remember this coffee shop.” His attempt to make you remember him is still very much present and ongoing. “As this was where we had our first date.”

“Well, it does look familiar.” You looked around, taking in the view of the amazing cafe. “But, still nothing comes to my mind. I am sorry Zayne.” Another failed attempt which was already expected by Zayne the moment you had entered the doors to this cafe. Hearing you addressing his name every time was a comfort and yet a curse because you calling his name did not mean anything anymore.

The doctor sat in front of you provided both you and himself a smile of solace. “It’s alright. You do not have to apologise every time if you do not recall the memories we once had. I will just keep on trying.” The waitress then approached the both of you, laying down the desserts and pastries that Zayne had ordered. “Here, have it as much as you want. It shall be on my tab.”

Staring at the array of desserts, your vision paused at the strawberry roll. The cylindrical delicacy doused in a layer of butter and decorated heavily with fresh whipped cream and strawberries. Before you could manage to taste a piece, your daydream beckoned you, flashes of memories came along, showing visions of you eating desserts with Zayne. The both of you standing side by side, debating on which coffee would match which dessert better and finally deciding on the strawberry roll. The same strawberry roll that earned him a toothache and you eventually accompanied him to the dentist, your nags could be heard through the playback in your head. “Are you alright y/n?” Zayne’s voice interrupted your vision.

“I…I need the washroom.” You pushed your chair back and hurried off into the bathroom. Jamming yourself into one of the stalls, you sat yourself down onto the toilet cover and held your head in your palms. The throbbing pain on your frontal lob causing you to feel waves of nausea. Your breaths started quickening as you felt like you were strapped down to a roller coaster of emotions involuntarily, going through tunnels at light speeds, replaying all of your memories along the way. Then it stopped. You just sat on the toilet cover now, tears stinging your eyes as you take in your surroundings.

The day before you went onto a mission, Zayne and you had a fallout, arguing over the fact he was too busy with his schedule and constantly cancelling his meet ups with you just to attend to his patients. You knew he had an important role to play within the hospital, but his last minute cancellations was the main reason you got riled up when you confronted him about it. Not to mention his indifference further fuelled your anger. The argument that night was inconclusive, the both of you agreed to have your own time, only to result in solemn sighs and quiet cries. The next day, the fight between the both of you partially held the blame when you were in the middle of the battlefield, too drained from your lack of sleep. Then, your inability to focus while fighting Berserk Wanderers made you pay the price.

But when Zayne caught sight of you for the very first time in the stretcher, the fight never mattered anymore. If apologising would bring you back, he would have done it without hesitation. He took the blame too, silently cursing himself, questioning himself if things would have taken a better turn if he chose to hold you close and apologise for that night, to promise you that he would spend more time with you. The promise was only played out when you regained consciousness. How he wished you could have remembered, seeing that he had made time for you just the way you would have wanted him to.

He would always accompany you to your physiology appointments, visiting you often after he is done with his shifts, forgiving you every time you do not remember scenarios or locations that had played a significant part in both of your relationship. It must have been an aching journey for him. From the throbbing pain, your head started feeling heavy and you collapsed in the stall.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Waking up, your hands pushed down against satin sheets in an attempt to sit yourself up. The room you are in is definitely not yours, the pristine white walls with darkish blue accents belong to Zayne’s. Just as you thought of him, he appeared through the doorway, wooden tray in hand as he walked over to you. A cup of water with pills in a transparent plastic cup, and two pieces of bread sat on the tray. “You passed out when you were in the washroom earlier on, but I do not sense anything serious so I brought you home and figured Ibuprofen would settle your issue for now.”

“Zayne.” The way you called him made him perked his ears up as he laid the tray down. “I am sorry for everything.” He looked at you, the lights in his room casting a glow on his face, showcasing the creases in between his brows as he was confused over your apology. “I am sorry I don’t remember you.” The tears of yours got released and they flowed down your face. Your sincerity broke his guard and he leaned forward hugging you, pulling you tautly against his torso. Nobody could explain nor understand the amount of relief that was rushing through his system now, shooting endorphins and dopamines straight through the roof of his head.

He nuzzled into your neck, breaths taken in long and slow drags as he tried to calm himself down. He was never used to showing emotions but just for this one time, he could let himself loose. “You don’t have to be.” He rubbed his palms on the side of your arms, consoling you from sobbing.

“I missed you so much.” Your arms wrapped around him in return, smiling at his overwhelming response. “I really missed you. You did so much just for me.”

He pulled back, hands cupping your face immediately, sighing in relief. “I only did what was deemed necessary to bring you back to me. No matter how long it takes, I will keep on trying.” Lurching forward, your lips caught his in heated passion, thanking him for his efforts through your actions. You had missed his kisses, lips overlapping over one another then parting, allowing tongues to dance for dominance. His arms snaked around your waist and he pulled you to sit onto his lap, a tent evidently pressing against you. His other hand went to the back of your neck and he pulled back, searching your expressions for a confirmation to his further actions. “Would you like me to continue?”

“Yes.” Your one-worded answer approved of his arousal and the both of you continued kissing fervently. This time with your hands exploring the expanse of his upper torso, feeling his muscles with every touch. “I love you.”

Getting to hear those words coming from your mouth again, he picked you up by your thighs and laid you onto his bed, climbing over on top of you as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, eyes raking through your body, desperately wanting to reveal what was underneath your conservative clothing and wanting to revel himself in pleasing you. “I love you too.” Your hands reached up to cup his cheeks this time, smiling. “Allow me to take this slow, all night. Till you remember me fully.”

XAVIER

“You take the two on your right and I will take on the big one.” Summoning your guns out of thin air, you gripped it familiarly within your palms, the metal grips on your guns cold to your touch. You looked at the wanderer in front of you. The size of it outweighed the wanderers that Xavier was tasked to deal with. The wanderer is shaped like a dragon, floating above the ground, with metallic scales all over its body that forms a shield as part of its defence mechanism. Talons sharp and hard as a diamond came slashing at the speed that could only be counted in milliseconds and you dodged it at the perfect timing, a few strands of your hair suffered the damage of its talons. “Tsk, you are certainly feisty.”

“Are you hurt?” Xavier is already dashing over to you, him dealing with the two wanderers barely took 5 seconds. It was a simple slash and dash for him. You regained your stability, standing up straight and getting into a combative stance, the blond man joining you by your side, sword raised and aimed at the foul wanderer. “Let’s take it down together.”

The both of you moved in sync like a dance is taking place in the middle of battlefield. The wanderer utilised its talons and tail to its best attempt to attack the both of you but the bigger they are, they tend to be slower in motion. That added an advantage to both Xavier and you. The man hollered at you as he jumped up, distracting the dragon and you denoted his instructions, charging in at full speed. The talons of the dragon then came towards you. Yet, everything seems to happen in slow-motion as you kicked yourself off of the ground and did a somersault, counteracting against the movement of the talons and safely avoiding it. Xavier appeared beneath you, his teleportation abilities an extremely useful tactic for displacement.

Dropping on one knee, he reached his hand out and you used the platform on his palm to provide a leverage for you to gain momentum for height, springing yourself up into the air, rotating in circles before angling yourself face-first towards the dragon like creature. The dragon roared as it spotted you, talons now flying upwards to stop your strike. You waved your hand and the guns switched to a blade similar to Xavier’s but with a silver hilt and a red tip. Fast as a bullet, you avoided the attack of the dragon yet again and this time jammed the blade right onto the top of its head. The dragon screeched before fading into dust particles and the Protocore that it carried fell to the floor with a clink. “How was that move just now?” You smirked, awaiting a compliment as you landed onto the ground steadily.

“It can use some work.” Xavier spoke nonchalantly, bending down to pick up the Protocore before crushing it in his hands, not wanting anyone else to get their hands on it, especially those who are not associated with your organisation. You placed a hand onto your chest and gasped dramatically, feigning being insulted. “You deserve that for letting me deal with the weaker ones and with you dealing with the dragon all by yourself. You could easily get hurt.” His display of puppy eyes might fool everyone else other than you. You can see the smirk right through him.

“Well you’re always the show off, it is time for me to grab that spotlight by now.” You huffed, arms crossing over your chest in disappointment and he laughed, walking over to you and pulling your arms away from your torso, his smile genuine this time.

“I can never win an argument against you, so I give up okay?” He raised his hand up and brushed what seemed to be left of the dragon ashes off of your head. The sudden interaction of his got you speechless. “Nothing to say? Cat got your tongue?” He teased and you sent a light punch towards his way, aiming right at his torso. “Ouch.”

At this point, both of you could not hide your feelings for one another. It was so obvious to the point Tara would always mock that the both of you ‘are a force so great that gravity could not even pull you both apart’. Tara’s point was widely agreed by everyone else within the same department and even reaching towards the data mining department and the HR department. Well, looking onto the bright side, at least you guys have more support than rejection. Captain Jenna however, presented her disapproval towards their relationship as ‘business and personal matters are not a good concoction’ as quoted by the superior of theirs. Still, majority decision matters and Xavier have strong beliefs that the both of you would be able to still keep things professional while pursuing a relationship.

“Let’s grab some ramen, I am hungry.” The usual routine ensues. It is not a routine if there are no food gatherings after a mission, or specifically, one that involves you. “This time, it will be on me.”

𓆩⟡𓆪

Xavier’s superbike engine increased in volume as the acceleration increases. Wind hitting the both of your faces like some form of karmic payback for going so fast on the streets. Clouds were being shoved in the skies, eating up the sun light that once provided warmth and exchanging it for clouds of storms. The rain then poured rampantly, wetting everything in its path and coating the tar roads in a sheen of wax-like surface. Xavier twisted the handle further and that pushed the bike faster, you holding on tighter to his waist as he registered himself to be in a race with the rainstorm. Something about Xavier riding his bike like a wild man does something to me :,)

They are almost at their destination, the marker point for the restaurant could be seen on Xavier’s phone screen that had the GPS system running. “We are almost there.” He called out from his helmet, the indicator of his speedometer showing that he is nearly achieving the top speed on his superbike. The good thing about modern technology nowadays is that there are no struggles to speak in a normal tone when there is a built in microphone within the helmet. Back in the days, talking on a motorbike in motion would involve a lot of yelling as the deaden wind noises would act like giant ear plugs in one’s ears, making it difficult to communicate.

Turning a corner, his tyre screeched in rejection, a normal phenomenon for him using wet tyres that provides a better grip on slippery roads during such rainy seasons. What was unexpected however, was the lorry that appeared right in front of them, blaring its horns as the driver was seen stepping onto the brakes, inertia taking over when his body was jerked back, praying for his brakes to take control of the vehicle. “Xavier!” You screamed out as Xavier turned the bike’s head over to the other side to prevent colliding into the lorry but it was too late. A loud bang came through and you just remembered falling harshly onto the ground, landing on back first and darkness took you right away.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Beep. Beep. Beep. Machines were heard, your body struggled to move as if chained down by restraints. Your head felt like it just went through a lobotomy, aching in deep throbbing pain. You slowly opened your eyelids, welcoming the sun light that had invited itself into your room. Your surroundings are clean, smelling like iodine and sterile alcohol. You looked down and realised you are in a loose blue hospital gown. You are in a hospital. For what reason though?

Your mind emitted a high pitched ringing as you tried to recall your last moments that had landed you into the hospital. All you managed to recall was you coming in contact with a wanderer alone, and after you had defeated it, everything else is a mystery. Hearing the door sliding open, you looked over, spotting a man walking in through the entrance. He is wearing a white oversized hoodie, layered over a baby blue T-shirt and matched with a pair of black jeans. This man looked like a model, with blond hair that could easily blend in with the sunlight and with eyes that is twinning with his T-shirt. “How are you doing?” His voice was not as deep as what you had predicted, but it does give it a distinct personality of its own.

“I’m fine, I guess.” You tried to sit up but the pain that jabbed your chest made you winced. The man took a seat next to you and with the press of a button, your bed slowly moved upwards. “Thanks.”

He watched you, eyes holding a glimmer of hope that you could not pinpoint on what he was hoping for. His hand reached out towards your face and you instinctively moved back, eyes widened in shock. He looked at you, face turning pale as he realised the reality of the situation. “Do you know who I am?”

“No.” Your quick response made him blinked twice, not knowing what to say at all. “Are you someone I know?” He could have heard his own heart cracked at that question of yours.

The nurses who were in charge of you had already acknowledged Xavier to be your sole caretaker. The lack of parents and caretakers within your family history indicated that you had nobody to rely on, other than this blond bloke that had constantly been bugging the nurses about your condition. They had informed him about the side effects of a concussion, including a period of amnesia. Xavier had seen this coming but it still hurts, given that he is the one to be held accountable for this outcome.

After that day at the hospital, Xavier no longer rode his bike, the damage inflicted upon the metal piece of garbage was so great that it now sat in the garage of his condo. Other than that, he was also traumatised by his accident that nearly costed the both of your lives. His self-recrimination got to him so much that it had affected his working attitude and causing him to be more closed off than ever.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Having the day all to yourself, you decided to explore the city on your own and hopefully you get to go to an arcade and catch one of those plushies that you have been eyeing for the past few days. The lack of Xavier in your life did not affect you as much. Since you had been discharged he would drop by your house every once in a while and you came to learn that he stays within the same building as you. But what you found interesting was the fact he would always buy you food that you crave for, and seemingly had always presented a liking for. It got you wondering if the both of you actually had a history together but since he did not say anything, you did not find the need to pry either.

The store stood proudly in between a coffee shop and a convenience store, its neon lights and floating holograms of this season's featured plushies made it a fanfare, inviting everyone that catches sight upon the store and kidnapping all of the families who are spending time for an outing. Couples are seemingly reeled in as well, leaving the singletons sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the cramped space. Just like y/n, sliding smoothly in between couples and families to arrive at the back of the store, where the plushies hailing from an older season would be secreted. Crowds would not clump at the back here given that the need to keep up with the latest plushies is a cool trend nowadays. But y/n’s decision to settle for an ‘out-of-the-season’ plushie characterises her to be a sentimental and loyal individual.

You exchanged for a couple of tokens, enough to fill a small bowl and you walked over to the machine of your choice, eyeing the bunny plushie in the middle of the pool of plushies. “Here I come.” You inserted a token into the coin slot and the machine jerked awake, lights flashed in front of you and a fast-paced nursery rhymed filled the silence. You looked into the mirror stationed at the back of the cubicle of the claw machine and a bright light pierced through it, swallowing you entirely. Then you were stood right next to the same machine, but you were focused on the couple manoeuvring the machine you had paid for. You were about to stop them till you realised that it was you and Xavier, standing next to one another, chatting and laughing as you guys watched the claw machine worked its magic.

You could not bring yourself to snap out of your own reverie, not when the presented scenario is full of warmth and …love. Your guts has been right all this while, the fuzzy confusion you get whenever he is near you, the sense of heightened self-awareness when he leans in to study your expressions, a slither of unknown jealousy coursing through you when you realised the nurses were asking for his contact information. It finally placed your brain back into your head. When you are brought back to reality, you blinked away your tears that stung at the back of your pupil and you recollected yourself, walking away from the machine and towards the exit. You are going to look for Xavier.

You knocked onto his door multiple times, series of knocks, pause, series of knocks, pause. Took him a good seven minutes to open the door. His hair is messy, eyes half lidded and yawns so dragged out that he could easily break the world record for being the best yawner. “Is everything alright?” The man in the pyjamas asked, looking concerned. But you dashed through his door and attached yourself into his embrace, the young man awoken in an instant. His arms now beside his torso, halfway upwards into the air when he tried to process what is happening at the start of his day.

“It’s not your fault Xavier.” You mumbled through his shirt, still loud enough to reach his ears. “I don’t want you to blame yourself.” You remembered the day you were deep in your dreamland till you were woken up by muffled sobs, your hands feeling wet to the touch. When you opened your eyes, you saw Xavier’s face was plopped in your hands and his body was jerking to every heave and pants he took. He was crying within your palms, blaming himself for the amount of pain he had inflicted upon you while he gets to walk off unharmed. Just the thought of seeing him cry again pains you.

He gets to reap faster than what he had initially sowed, with a mere expectation that you might get your memories back after a couple of months, but to get your memory back within two months time, he would have kissed heavens if he was allowed to. You felt his weight pressed into you and you stumbled backwards, back hitting against the closed door as a response. His arm now around your waist, steadying you before he pulled you closer, sandwiching you between the door and also his torso. “I wanted to do this for a long time.” His breath fanned your bangs, heating your cheeks up. “Would you mind if I do things to you that nobody else gets to?”

You gained just a tad bit of courage to look up at him and you gulped, seeing his orbs darkened, gleaming lustful desires behind it. He is not the only one with such dirty thoughts in his mind, for you bear the same thoughts as him. You want him just as much as he wants you, but there was just a gap between the both of you the whole time, the hesitant, the doubt and the fear of a mistake that was holding the both of you back. But as of now, perhaps not anymore.

Responding to your eager lust, you pressed your lips against his and he reciprocated it. Your lips parted and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in, caressing the insides of your mouth. His hand traced to your bum and he smoothed his palms over it, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. "Did I ever told you how sorry I was about your accident?" He whispered against your plump lips, a passionate emblem brewed behind his cerulean orbs. Gasping, he lifted you up by swiftly hooking his arms under your thighs and pinning you harder against the door. "Tonight, let me apologise sincerely, and allow me to make it up to you." The night then gets darker but younger.

RAFAYEL

Seated on a wooden chair tucked behind a huge desk, the young artist crossed his legs under the table, eyeing the cue cards that he was given so he could get an idea on what answers he could opt for. But as what Thomas has predicted, Rafayel's fish brain would not even appreciate the aid of a script. Rafayel positioned the cue card at the very edge of the table and awaited for the curtains to be withdrawn.

Jazzy tunes started playing and the host of the interview roared out Rafayel's name belatedly. Heavy maroon drapes slowly drew back, revealing a standing ovation from the crowd and a grumpy Rafayel behind the desk. "Welcome Rafayel!" The young woman introduced herself to be Miss Kony. Everyone, Miss Kony even, are in awe with his effiminate features. Men hate his feminine looking features but women dig it. Rafayel on the other hand, knows that he owns the stage the moment he was revealed.

Almost at the end of the interview, MIss Kony was asking some handpicked fan-favourite questions towards Rafayel. "So what if, just what if you found out that someone you love someday had lost their memory about you?" The woman asked, hands smoothed over her yellow chiffon blouse and placing the cue card onto her lap, leaning in to catch his answer.

The young artist shrugged. "I don't know really. I think I would just get disappointed and leave." He was known for his impatience to everything except for his own artwork. "As I do have time for other things other than tending towards someone who barely remembers me. I might just take the time to continue doing what I do."

His answer received praises and whistles, earning admiration from his fanbase for someone being true to himself and also having to think of the 'bigger picture'. The interview that had took place ended on a particularly neutral note but the end of the night seemingly turned sour. Not only was he tailed by paparazzis all the way to his car and that he was late for a movie. The one movie that you would never shut up about, featuring some sappy drama with a very predictable ending. Rafayel wanted to express his distaste towards your movie choices but seeing you getting so excited over something so minute, his heart could not help but to be wrapped around your fingers. Sliding himself into the bucket seat of his hyper car, the artist held up a hand, signifying a blatant goodbye and to cease further questions. Starting the ignition, the car roared to life and he stepped onto the gas pedal and steered out of the parking lot.

You stood at the front of the cinema, eyes darting everywhere to search for a sign of a 6’ tall man with purple hair, good sense of fashion and dashingly good looks, but he was nowhere to be seen. You picked up your phone, squinting your eyes when you checked the time. He is late. Which is unusual of him. Before you could even control yourself, your mind had already started stirring up different scenarios of what could have happened to Rafayel and you got increasingly worried over him. Your fingers hovered over the green dial button, Rafayel’s name on your screen before you were interrupted by the screams of the general public.

Rafayel's phone vibrated for a few times before he picked it up, hearing your voice on the other end through the speakers of his car. "Rafayel, I think there is a bombing happening near—” A huge whirring could be heard and a high pitched ringing sent the call directly to an end note. The line emitting a no-signal dial tone caused Rafayel's heart to plunge. He looked at the phone, your name and profile picture the only thing that filled the screen before it turned off and the young man stepped pedal to the metal, the car’s turbine sound cutting through the quiet night.

His car screeched to a halt when he was greeted with barricades in the middle of the road, fire ablaze on multiple buildings and rubbles filled the once bustling streets. Security and medical forces are already at the scene, scavenging for survivors and treating victims of the unfortunate circumstance. “Tara!” He called out when he spotted a familiar outline of a female similar to your height but with a bob. The girl turned at the call of her name and her eyes widened, probably not expecting your boyfriend to be at the scene. “What happened here? Did you saw y/n?”

Tara looked like she had gagged onto the smoke but minus the coughing and actual physical struggle. Words are not pouring out of her mouth despite she is a proud extrovert. “There was a bombing.” She managed to mutter after a while of silence and intense staring. “We have yet to find her. We don’t know where she is.” She hesitantly looked down to check her hunter’s watch to avoid his gaze. She could tell that he is not taking the answer well.

“She was last seen at the cinema. Have you searched there yet?” He asked and watching Tara being hesitant again, he did not bother asking and he walked right in, getting a clearance from the authorities issued by Tara. He walked past rubbles, hearing for anything that could get him to locate you easier. Then, he stopped at the sight of a hand peeking out from under one of the cement rubble. The promise ring of his laid dormant on your ring finger, the ashen skin nearly similar to the rubble you are laid underneath.

“Y/N!” He shouted, sinking to his knees and started to dig through the rubble, his sudden movement caught the eyes of a few of the fire marshalls stationed at the site. They rushed over with their gear. “Please help, my lover is underneath the rubble!” He called out, still digging through the rubble.

“Sir, we are gonna need you to step back.” One of the man pushed him back, the young man indicated signs of reluctance but he knew that he does not have any tools that could lift up the huge piece of rubble anyways. “Once we get her out, you can be on the ambulance with her.” Another marshall placed a hand on his back, his voice and gaze reassuring enough to get Rafayel to back off to let them do their work. He stood aside, peering over their shoulders every once in a while, wanting to catch a glimpse of what they could manage to find. It didn’t take them long to lift your body out of the piles of rocks. Your body was limp, eyes closed and scarlet red painted a few streaks of colours on your beautiful yet pale face. “Y/n!” He called out to you but there were no responses, his legs matched the pace of the marshalls lifting your injured body towards the ambulance.

He got in right after the stretcher and sat down next to you, grabbing hold of your hand in his. He kept mumbling your name, peppering kisses over the back of your hand as if he was praying to a god. Ironic. The ambulance’s sirens wailed as the paramedics strapped themselves into the driver seats. “Hang on tight.” The driver’s voice could be heard through the plastic pane separating the patient’s mobile room. With the rev of an engine, the force of inertia caused Rafayel to jerk backwards as the ambulance sped through the traffic.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Batting your eyelashes a couple of times, you invited the sunlight into your vision after who-knows-for-how-long it has been. Your body felt sore as if you had been lifting weights too heavy for you, your head felt groggy like your nap had been too good, your hearing sense prickled whenever someone made too loud of a noise. By that, you meant the man in front of you who would not stop calling out your name when he opened the door to see your opened eyes. This man, his lilac-pinkish hued orbs widened with what you may describe as excitement. His smile is nothing less than dashing, he seemed like he is made for the television shows. Everything on him, from his head to his toe, a simple black formal button up, a pair of black slacks, and a pair of normal sneakers looked expensive on him. Maybe he does adorn those branded items, but you could not possibly tell at this moment.

“Do you remember me, my love?” His smile had reduced a little bit, perhaps due to your unresponsiveness when you initially woke up from your days of deep slumber. “Y/n?”

“I don’t know you.” You frowned, gaze avoiding his. You could hear slight shuffling, squeaks caused by the friction between the waxed tiled floor and the soles of his sneakers. “Do I happen to know you beforehand?” You tilted your head up and you watched the young man took a seat next to you, a face of disbelief tattooed onto his features. “Would you like to—”

“I’m Rafayel.” The man in front of you beamed, his sappy look somewhat disappeared into thin air. Although he knew that it would hurt for you to not remember him, but he felt like slapping himself in the face now. Saying something along the lines of not giving two shits to someone he loves if they were to forget him is just plain ignorant when he sits in front of you now, watching the love of his life not remembering him and yet he could not go forth with what was mentioned at the interview a couple of days back.

You still had one of your eyebrows quirked up, looking at him as if he is an alien. Still does not deny the fact that he is handsome according to your standards. "Do you at least remember your name and your job?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest. His shirt was tight enough for you to get a good peek at his taut chest.

"My name is y/n and I am a deepspace hunter. Yeah I guess I remember that bit." Judging at the way Rafayel barely spared a blink your way, you bit your lip and started to stir your memory. A little bit goes a long way when you caught hold of your other responsibility. "I am a bodyguard for someone I think."

Rafayel's lips curled into a smirk, nodding. He relaxed his arms and leaned back against the chair. "Good, we can work with this."

𓆩⟡𓆪

Slamming the oak doors, you gasped in shock when you spotted Rafayel laying motionless on the floor. "Rafayel!" You shouted, grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking him like a cocktail shaker. "Rafayel, are you okay?"

The man's eyes suddenly widened and you dropped him, his head colliding with the hard floor with a thud. "OUCH!" He wailed in pain, rubbing the back of his head immediately. "Why would you do that?"

"You left me 13 calls when I was out at the field, I thought it was an emergency!" You fished your phone out of your pockets, revealing his name highlighted in red with a big number 13 next to his name. "Then I rushed here to see you lying on the floor like a dead fish!"

"It is an emergency." His pout emerged. "I am having a painter's block, I needed your input on my painting." He slowly sat up, dusting imaginary dust off of his shoulders.

Sighing, you stood up from your kneeling position. "Can't that wait till after I am done with work? I took half day off just for your so-called emergency." The annoyance in your tone was not as aggravating as what he had to endure before you had lost your memory. You held your hand out to him still, a frown fell upon your face.

He took your hand and stood up, his height easily towered over you. "I will make it up to you by bringing you out for dinner at any restaurant you want okay?" He placed both of his hands on your shoulders and he slowly guided you towards the corner that he always brainstorms for his pieces. His suggestion made you huffed in objection, but then, you are not entirely rejecting his idea.

Standing in front of the artwork, you analysed it, strokes in wavelike pattern covered most of the canvas, with a sketch of what seem to look like a jetty etched out on the bottom of the canvas. The artwork presents a setting held during twilight, the sunset and night sky bleeding into his art. A sudden high pitched ringing made you winced and you fell to the floor, clutching your head in agony. "Y/N!" You could hear him calling out to you but his voice slowly got muffled, like he was drowning in the waters drawn on his painting.

𓆩⟡𓆪

You woke up to the day you first met Rafayel, at the fair where he did this little trick to catch a small fish for you from the small pool. Your flashbacks then went on, projecting all of the moments you had spent with Rafayel and coming to the day he asked you to be his girlfriend while presenting the promise ring to you and to the moment the bombing happened before you could watch the movie at the cinema.

This time, you actually sat up, gasping for air as you felt cold sweat trickling down your forehead. Your memories of Rafayel had been revived and you could not hold back the tears that came. "Y/n, are you---" Rafayel's voice caught your gaze and you pushed yourself off of the bed and sprinted towards him, ambushing him with a hug so tight the artist nearly fell backwards. "Hey, hey what's wrong?"

"Raf...Rafe..." You sobbed, head buried into his cleavage. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." The artist ran his hands through your hair, feeling the smooth and soft strands to his touch. "I'm sorry I don't remember you."

Rafayel at this moment, with you in his arms, felt nothing but relief crashing over him. One might think that he would be excited, and to pull her into a rib crushing hug to express his excitement. But, he did the exact opposite. His breath was calm, hands still working their way through your hair before he caught your jaw and angled your face upwards. Your eyes looked right into his coloured irises, adoration radiating through his gaze. "I missed you, do you know that?"

Your hands snaked up his forearms and you cupped your hands over his. "I am sorry for making you so worried, Rafayel." His thumbs brushed over your cheeks in sync, wiping off the tears that are coming to a near stop. He did not allow you anymore space to apologise by leaning down and kissing you. He eventually pried your lips opened by darting his tongue out to caress your soft lips for the opening.

His hands heaved you up by your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist, the fervent kiss providing a headstart for the long night ahead. Your back hit against the plush beddings and he ran his fingers teasingly up the inside of your thighs, making you hiss in pleasure. He pulled back, pupils dilated and breath ragged, rubicund dusted over his cheeks and ears. "You have to pay for making me so worried over you, yeah?" He danced his fingertips to the fly of your pants, but stopped right at the zipper. "If you do not want me to, tell me to stop."

Now it is your turn to run your finger teasingly down his neck, your nail drag leaving a hot trail on his skin. "I would actually ask you to stop if I do not remember you." You bit down onto your lip, eyeing him as he slowly started to unzip your pants with his skilled digits.

"If it's so, I will take my time all night to prove to you how much I love you until I am satisfied." He smirked and dived his head down to catch your lips once again, allowing his fingers to travel south, already planning to make you cry only his name for the rest of the night.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #fluffy #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #lads x reader

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starryylies · 4 months

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John price whimpers during blowjobs, this thought is killing mee

John price and his hairy girthy cock who’s head is red when hard his girth is 6 inches hard and 3 inches soft,

You start off by licking his happy trail which is the most prominent from him when he wears his hot lil’ buttoned shirts.

You notice his cock is still hardening, it’s a little soft but erect.

You don’t mind though, the softness of his cock brings good texture.

His cock filled with precum and sweat. You can’t help but feel your pussy beat at its own will.

You give a lil kiss his red angry head first and then continue giving it a good lil suck like a Lolipop. :))

his cock becomes hard in less than 30 seconds of contact with your mouth.

He lets out a soft groan, taking his paw like hands putting them on your head,

He moans out,

sweet intricate praises leaving his lips.

His eyes closed the entire time while your mouth is devouring his cock

Good girl darlin’

Oh yeaa fuck, keep goin’ for daddy

he groans out loudly, you can feel his cock twitching

You reach your hands down to his balls and fondle them softly.

“Oh fucckkkkkk princess don’t stop”

“Daddy’s gettin close sweetheart keep goin” he says in a raspy voice

You suckle on his red angry head, teasing his cock,

his cock twitches inside your mouth.

He starts losing control now :0

like an animal he starts bucking his cock into your mouth fucking it like a stupid animal in heat,

Praises fall from his mouth like sugar

Whimpers, moans and grunts fall like twinkles

trying to fucking your mouth so desperately

but how could he not :((

He whimpers out,

“Oh princess, fucking hell you’re makin daddy feel so good. Daddy loves you so much I love you”

He repeats these praises like an oath, an oath that John price will never break

You lick his shaft skilfully and feel his hard thick cock twitch inside your mouth,

His eyes closed but you were sure there were some tears forming in his eyes because his release was going to be explosive,

“Ugh princess I’m so close I’m close fuckfuckfuc”

Your name falls out from his mouth in a soft whine,

His self control leaves him and now his hips are slamming into your mouth

His cock twitches uncontrollably In your mouth,

White thick ropes of cum come out from his cock, his hips stutter and his legs fail to give him support as he falls back on the bed

Whines and whimpers fall from his lips.

Your name repeated like a prayer.

After cooling down, he looks at you still sitting so obediently down on your knees,

“Show daddy your mouth princess” he looks at you adoringly

You comply like the good girl you are and open your mouth,

his fertile warm cum is filled to the brim,

“Good girl now swallow” he commands

And you comply, swallowing his seed

His eyes don’t leave you, watching you like a hawk to make sure you drank all of his seed.

“Imagine wasting such warm seed sweetheart” he coos while he caresses your cheek with his hand

“You’re my Good sweet girl” he says softly looking at you

“Come on my lap, it’s your turn now”

“I’ll make ya feel like you’re in heaven princess” :3

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nevertheless-moving · 3 months

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Still haven't finished sunlit man. But like. The auxiliary nomad bond. Oh my God. Oh God cried while driving and had to pull over.

Because at first? Dead spren? Broken oath. It's tragic, but there's a lot of precedent. Heralds be breaking oaths literally chapter 1 (one) of stormlight. Worlds best blorbo and honor's special boy came within a hair's breath of killing syl. If there wasn't a good reason, then I'm sure there was at least an understandable one. Weird how alive he is, but not that weird, considering Maya's progress and the recent Invention Of Therapy.

But storms, it. It wasn't that. It was an accident, outside of his control. He didn't...it wasn't the breaking oaths. He'd. He'd still rather die than kill the last piece of him. The knight/squire thing is a joke, was always a joke. predating death. There's not even a hint of bitterness, a touch of guilt tripping. Aux doesn't blame him. Aux is glad to be there with him, looking at the stars.

They still love each other so, so much.

Nothing was broken.

-----

Okay I've finished now and:

#sunlit man #ssp4 spoilers #cosmere #stormlight archive #nevertheless meta #it took me a while to give up and google why ssp4 is used for sunlit man. not an intuitive abbreviation from the outside lol #nevertheless cosmere

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authorred · 2 months

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Doctor's Orders | Part 1 | Li Shen/Zayne x fem!Reader | Love and Deepspace |

Preface: As someone who chronically ignores her cardiologist's orders, what happens when that backfires on you worse than normal? Recovering from a life-threatening run-in with a wanderer, it's up to your doctor to put you back together.

This is entirely self-indulgent bc I love this man and this game is so pretty for no reason????? Download that shit (not sponsored, they're just my husbands fr)

Part 2

Warning(s): Mentions of bodily injuries, blood, near-death experience, SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 5!

You didn’t mean to stumble into another fight—it literally came to you. The aether core in your heart has begun to act up, resulting in you short of breath and lightheaded upon any sort of physical exertion. Your heart rate would increase dramatically in compensation which in turn made your evol act up—it was a shit show. Because of that Doctor Zayne firmly instructed you to rest until the core in your heart settled so tests could be run to determine the stability.

You wish you could’ve followed his orders—and you were, very well—but a wyrmlord’s protofield suddenly appeared around your apartment, trapping everyone and you inside of it. Xavier was gone, and you were the only Hunter stronger enough to fight it; you did everything in your power to ensure no one would get hurt. The Wanderer was strong, and you knew if you went full out your evol could get out of control—not to mention the core in your heart would act up, and you'd go into cardiac arrest.

You look around yourself to the frightened people huddling together as a feeble way to protect themselves from the monstrous metaflux monster. If you weren’t here they’d all be dead within seconds. You made an oath, and you will honor it until all life leaves your body.

Drawing your sword, you slide your hand down the smooth, sharp blade. Tendrils of black coil out and wrap and wind in the air. I’m sorry, Zayne. Please don’t kill me for this. The wyrmlord flies at you and you encase yourself in a layer of darkness, of which it absorbs the impact. You spin the sword between your arms for momentum before stabbing it through the shield, and the darkness follows. It pierces into the wanderer, leaving it to cry out in pain. It's not a difficult fight—this is rather easy for you—well, it would be if your heart wasn't an issue. You're not fighting at 100% capacity. Right now, you're at 67%.

The wyrmlord lets out a shriek before sending spikes of stone and ice to come up from under you. You're forced to move, dashing to the side quickly. One of the spikes nicked you on the outside of your knee, sending it buckling. You trip to your hands and knees but force yourself to keep moving out of the range of the wanderer. With your back essentially turned to it, it takes that opportunity to break from your shadows to lunge at you.

~ There is no such thing as a break at Akso Hospital--not for Zayne, that is. The head of Cardiology, chief cardiac surgeon, and one of the most gifted doctors of his generation has little time to relax, other than what time is granted to him. Though, he seems to enjoy the business of his life. It's not often he complains about his packed schedule and lack of vacation time. He stays professional at all times, never letting his personal feelings mix with his professional ones. He treats all his patients with patience and respect but very rarely is he emotionally involved. The last person he felt personally involved in was your grandmother.

However, he wasn't sure if he could keep his personal feelings out of this particular situation. He heard the paging of a patient being wheeled into the ED but he wasn't the one paged. Walking down one of the many corridors connecting to the ED he caught a glimpse of the person being hauled to the OR and he does a double take. His feet stay rooted to the floor but his eyes stare at the parade of nurses and techs following the gurney. Is that. . .

There is no way for him to confirm it yet--he wasn't the one called for the case. Not able to stick in one place for a long time he forces himself to look away and finish walking to his destination, body feeling light and dizzy. Something inside of him told him to call you—something wasn't right, and he needed to be sure one way or another. When he got to a relatively quiet area, he took out his phone and navigated to your contact under his favorites. The line rang for an agonizingly long time until it finally went to voice mail, of which your voice delicately greeted him with a, 'Sup bitch, I'm either busy or dead. Say what you want now or say it to my gravestone, it depends'. Zayne slowly lowered the phone from his ear—you're supposed to be resting, there's no reason as to why you shouldn't be answering your phone. You always answer him when he calls or texts.

The pit in his stomach sinks deeper into his gut and doubt gnaws at him. Could the person that was just wheeled in for emergency surgery really be you? He'll have to wait until the OR is finished or wait until he's paged. He wishes to the gods it's not you, and if it is, he wishes you'll pull through whatever is wrong.

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miguelhugger2099 · 4 months

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A Knight's Oath

Summary: You're a princess in need of a personal guard after your father's passing. Miguel from the enemy kingdom, is assigned to become a spy that kills you. Next>>

Knight!Miguel x Princess!Reader, Enemies to Lovers(?), Angst, Fluff, Not proofread, Word Count: 1,005

Like any tale as old as time, history is never clean. Freedom is never gained through peace. It is violence, a necessary one at that, in order to get what you need. Even if it means becoming the villain to some and the hero to others.

Your father was no exception. As a young king, his father had died in battle protecting the kingdom during a famine. With its citizens crying for help and other countries trying to step on their kingdom, your father had picked up a sword and began to lead a slaughter in the name of freedom. With your mother at his side, she helped on the inside, providing jobs, and a sense of community for hope and pride of their heritage. It had been a long thirteen years of bloodshed, but ultimately, the king had successfully pushed back intruders and helped bring his kingdom back to life.

In the middle of the war, you had been born–a princess–a new era of hope and peace for the land. Your people had celebrated your birth with parades, art, music and dancing, while your parents always showed you off with pride. For the next couple of years, you had been raised to be kind, resilient and humble. You were still just a baby when it had ended, so you did not know the true extent of it. You did know there was a war where other countries had looked down upon you and despite the small size of your army, you had won. You knew your father did whatever he had to do to protect the faces of the common people and the future of your life so you never faulted him for it.

Unfortunately, your father passed just before you reached adulthood. An unknown illness and went in his sleep. Everyone had mourned the terrible loss of their protector and beloved king, father and husband. Despite his actions in war, he was always incredibly kind to his people and was a great role model of a man in your life. You took pride in the fact you were his flesh and blood and that would never change. So with honor and grace, you worked hard to follow in his footsteps to be a great leader.

Others, however, did not share the same feelings. In other stories, your father was the devil himself. A cruel king that had struck anyone who had gotten in his way, caused the downfall of armies and used wicked ways to poison and torture troops to his advantage. When word of his passing had spread, many had celebrated the death of the evil king and hoped all those who lived in his kingdom perished with him.

Miguel O’Hara was one who thought the same. He hated the king that had started a war and it killed his father, hated how the aftermath of it left his mother depressed and his family starving. His homeland was in shambles because of your father and for years, he prayed for a chance to help his own country in gaining revenge.

So, for years Miguel had worked his way up in the ranks of his homelands army. A protector of his people and a way to finally fight back if another war were to break out again. He not only trained hard for his home, but to also feed his family—his mother and little brother. He often worried about them but little Gabriel was always eager to help while Miguel was away. Always a kind soul, he was.

When rumors had gone out that his king had been planning on planting a spy and an assassination on the princess of the enemy land, Miguel’s interest had been piqued. He thought to himself, without an heir, that wicked kingdom would surely fall to its knees and get what they deserve.

Naturally, Miguel had been called in for an audience with the king. He bent down on one knee and bowed his head.

“My Lord.” He greeted.

The king’s slicked back white hair practically glinted in the sunlight where its rays were seeping through the tall windows of the throne room. “Stand, soldier.” His voice boomed.

Miguel stood back up, the metal of his knight armor clanking against each other and he rested his wrist on his sword by his side. The king spoke again. “My boy, you are the finest gem in our armed forces. Your victories are endless and you make all of us here proud.”

Miguel’s face didn’t move, still as ever and it only made the king’s grin curl up even more.

“Which is why I’ve assigned you a special mission,” Miguel took a deep breath. “As the princess of Etheria’s guard.”

Now that had made Miguel’s face scrunch up in disgust. “My Lord, forgive me but–” He quickly shut his mouth when the king raised his hand.

“You will portray yourself as one of them. Eat, sleep and breathe like them and gain a position of a knight in their castle,” He explained. “There are talks of the princess needing a personal guard. Once you have gained information and the trust of those lowlife scum, you are to kill her. Once she is dead, we will invade their land and finish what they started.”

Miguel let his words seep into his thoughts. To live amongst the people he’s loathed since the beginning? It was barbaric and humiliating.

But this was his chance. A chance at revenge. He was angered when the king had died before he could even get close. Now, with the opportunity of sticking a sword in his own daughter’s heart–Miguel felt that was an even better alternative.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by his king. “Do what you must to be as convincing as possible. Care for her, protect her, admire her, kill one of our own if need be– just make sure that no one expects a thing… Especially the princess.” Miguel stood up straighter, saluting the man in front.

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Dismissed.”

A/N: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara imagine

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blazingstar24 · 14 days

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No but like the fact that Rolan respects Zevlor so much implies the idea that he looked up to Zevlor possibly even before having to leave Elturel. And also the idea that Rolan could and does more easily forgive him due to his experience with Lorroakan is so juicy.

Because one could argue that those two things are so different. Zevlor’s actions got people killed. Rolan’s only potentially would have harmed Aylin if the player was not there. But in that notion, it shows how alike these two are or moreso how much Rolan has modeled his values off of Zevlor. Both blamed themselves quite heavily for faltering in their values due to an outside influence neither could control. (Remember that the player/companions would have become enslaved right outside the goblin camp if not for the artifact, Zevlor didn’t have that and broke free of his own will.)

Both Zevlor and Rolan hold themselves to very high standards and tend to turn to self loathing when they can’t meet the impossible standards they set. Even before the Absolute incident, you can see Zevlor breaking under the stress he takes on to protect the tieflings. He says he can’t protect them if they are forced out of the grove, yet we know that the tieflings were so close to the Last Light. If you rescue Zevlor from Moonrise, lemme tell you that paladin does not need your help. He fucking bodied all them mindflayers (in my run at least) Zevlor is way more capable and had been doing so much for the tieflings, but he feels as if it’s not enough, that his broken oath is a sign that he’s failed and is failing them. It’s how the Absolute gets him with false promises and temptation.

And it’s the same for Rolan. His haughty arrogant nature may come off as and is a bit cocky. He can be a prick. But when you really look at it, it’s not overconfidence. Rolan holds himself to a high standard, he needs to be that great wizard he claims to be, else what good is he? And then when he fails to protect Lia and Cal, the same self loathing kicks in. He can’t see that he protected the kids, he failed to meet the standard he set which is be strong enough protect his family. And that’s how Lorroakan gets him to stay and endure the abuse.

In these similarities, it does become a bit clear that Zevlor is the kind of person Rolan wants to be. “He’s like a leader to me, Zevlor holds a special place in my heart.”Rolan’s want for power again yes a bit of wizard hubris but very much in line with that same image of being a protector, like Zevlor. Because back to saving the kids, if Rolan was as selfish as he claims himself to be, if his protectiveness only was for Cal and Lia, he wouldn’t have saved the kids. He would have forgone saving them to protect his siblings. But he didn’t, he tried to save everyone.

So yeah while the Cameos are in a nebulous canon, it’s not like the game itself doesn’t support this idea either

#bg3 rolan #bg3 zevlor #zevlor #rolan #bg3 meta #the idea of rolan looking up to Zevlor and then being heartbroken at the seeming betrayal #but then after learning the truth and then Lorroakan understanding him so much more #and the idea that Zevlor is the only one he could actually talk to about his guilt around Lorroakan #because only Zevlor would understand the feeling of disappointing yourself

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overheard-at-camp-half-blood · 4 months

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Also, really like how Hades doesn’t really get mad at Percy for Poseidon breaking the oath? Or at least, he doesn’t take it out on Percy.

His main beef is with Zeus. The reason he tries to kill Thalia, because Zeus killed a woman he loved and also tried to kill his children. Hades and Poseidon have no beef with each other. They just both really hate Zeus.

#percy jackson #hades pjo #poseidon pjo

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thepurplewombat · 8 months

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The Sin List

okay, so as we all know, it is vitally important that any character we stan must be morally pure and a good example to emulate in real life.

So I have decided to create a list of MDZS characters and their sins, which everyone can easily refer to in order to make sure that they are not following some horrible criminal or murderer!

This was a lot of work, but I'm very proud of it. Just doing my bit to ensure the moral purity of the fandom!

Wei Wuxian - Necromancy, disrespecting his elders, disrespecting the dead, killed Jin Zixuan, punched Jin Zixuan in the face one time, cannibalism, mind control, deviant sexual fantasies, trespassing, oath-breaking, urged Wen Qing to perform untested and possibly fatal operation on Jiang Cheng without his consent.

Lan Wangji - Defied his elders, broke the Lan Clan rules, sexually assaulted Wei Wuxian, deviant sexual fantasies, GBH (JGY)

Jin Guangyao - betrayed and killed Wen Ruohan, betrayed and killed Jin Guangshan, murder (NMJ), murdered assorted people, disrespecting the dead, assorted Spy Things for Wen Ruohan.

Nie Mingjue - Killed a lot of people during the war, verbally abused Nie Huaisang, burned Nie Huaisang's stuff, attempted murder (JGY), attempted murder (JGY), attempted murder (JGY), murder (JGY), killed the Mo family (well, his arm did anyway). In favor of the genocide of the Wen Remnants

Jin Guanshan: Sexual assault, rape, murder, ordering human experimentation with resentful energy to be done by his sect, played both sides during the war, didn't take responsibility for his children, ultimately responsible for getting WWX killed because he wanted the YTT so bad

Wen Ruohan: Attempted world domination, murder etc

Lan Qiren: has a stick up his ass

Su Minshan: Refused to die for the Lan, supported JGY in his efforts to prevent undead Da-ge from killing him. Also cursed Jin Zixun.

Sect Leader Yao: Weathervane politician

Jiang Wanyin: strangled Wei Wuxian that one time, keeps trying to talk to him but is way too tsundere about it, killed many during the war, didn't immediately forgive WWX for getting JYL killed, threatens to break Jin Ling's legs weekly.

Jin Ling: rude. rude rude rude. Also stabbed WWx one time

Lan Jingyi: not respecting his elders, rude rude rude. Also loud

JFM: shit dad, throw him in a volcano

Madame Yu: Angry mom, beat Wei Wuxian for things that weren't his fault, yelled at JC a lot, didn't appreciate JYL, very mean.

Lan Xichen: killed people during the war. Randomly starts doing flute solos in conversation

Meng Shi: was a prostitute. Told Meng Yao his dad was amazing and he should totally look him up later.

Madam Jin: awful person, she can go into the volcano with JFM. physical and verbal abuse (JGY)

Nie Huaisang: killed cats, nearly killed the juniors, let his sect fall into ruin, traded obscene materials, disrespecting his sect's traditions, lied to Lan Xichen to make him kill JGY

Wen Qing: went along with WRH's plans, performed surgery on JC without his consent

Wen Ning: Was part of the burning of LP

Mo Xuanyu: Summoned Satan to murder his relatives, harassed his brother

Jin Zixun: asshole, rude, broke the Geneva Convention on the ethical treatment of prisoners several times. Useless person

FOR THE SAKE OF SAFETY AND YOUR MORALS YOU ARE ONLY ALLOWED TO STAN THE FOLLOWING CHARACTERS

Jiang Yanli

Qin Su

Lan Shizui

#Wombat rambles #wombat's danmei hours #Jin Guangyao #meng yao #Lan Xichen #LXC #My favourite son-in-law #best boy lan Xichen #not a himbo #mzds #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #wei wuxian #lan wangji #nie huaisang #nie Mingjue #NONE OF YOU ARE FREE OF SIN

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moghedien · 1 month

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I’m like sooo curious about the Aylin and Isobel after all this because we know they’re going help Selunite enclaves or whatever and I don’t think they’re ever gonna turn away from Selune really but I do wonder if there’s like a twinge of something about their relationship with the goddess now

because again I don’t think they’re gonna turn from her, but they both have their issues and trauma now. Aylin’s is a bit more obvious but I can’t stop thinking about how the game basically tells you that Isobel came back wrong and then never acknowledges that again.

Obviously she didn’t come back as wrong as some of her kin, but the first time we see her she seems ill with something. You can kinda dismiss that as being related to the Shadow curse without full context. Even if you read her diary, you can kinda dismiss it until you understand she’s Ketheric’s dead daughter.

Her diary:

Like she clearly isnt being spurned by Selune completely as she still has cleric magic and can still protect Last Light, but the phrase “there are some things she would never accept in her devoted” is so ominous. Isobel clearly knows that Selune is having some problem with her and the fact that the problem isn’t as clear as being denied her magic makes it even more ominous. If not that, then what is happening that makes this clear to her?

Then there’s Aylin, who is literally the daughter of Selune, who was sent by her mother to the Thorms. And obviously there isn’t any regret there because of Isobel, but then the Isobel dies under vague circumstances that may or may not be Shar related based on cut content. Then the people that Selune sent Aylin to protect cage her and torture her and use her as a lab rat and organ donor and ritual sacrifice over and over again for the next 100 years.

Aylin was supposed to be an envoy of her mother and ended up being the instrument in which Shar made weapon after weapon. She’s unwillingly spreading the darkness she’s against and all because Selune sent her to these people. Literally 100 years where all she can do is die again and again until she can convince one Sharran to listen to her and not just kill her again.

And like, you can also take into account the possibility that Aylin is an oathbreaker now. I don’t personally buy the theory but I know a lot of people do suspect that her reaction to killing Lorrokan was due to it breaking her oath. I think it’s more likely a trauma response but we can look at this either way.

Because killing Lorrokan should have been the righteous move. He was trying to use and defile her, one of Selune’s children, for his own petty reasons. He was going to commit the same sins as Ketheric. And it wasn’t like Aylin was the only potential victim of him. We know he hurt Rolan, and no doubt many others. What would a man like that do with immortality?

But then killing him just makes her feel empty? She protected herself. Protected Selune’s sword and anyone else that might have been suffering under him. And it doesn’t fill her with the same righteous ecstasy that it should. Suddenly being the righteous paladin doesn’t feel good, it just feels empty.

And if you believe that it did break her oath, then what? She’s being punished by Selune for defending herself and others? She stopped Selune’s envoy from being used in the same profane ritual she just escaped from and gets rejected and punished for that? She’s the one accused of violating Selune?

Again, I don’t personally think the reaction was caused by breaking her oath, but I think it’s a compelling angle to look at, at least.

And all of this to say that again, I don’t think either of them are going to turn against Selune and I don’t think they have a very strong reason to. But I do wonder how their relationship with her has changed in the last 100 years while Aylin was being forced to die for Shar over and over again and Isobel was forced to live by Mrykul, completely unprotected by the moonmaiden they had both been absolutely devoted to.

I just wonder what was going through their heads when they talked to Shadowheart about her past and the fact that she has a choice now, that Selune would take her back after a life time of Sharran indoctrination and crimes committed in her name. Now she has a choice. I wonder if in that moment, there wasn’t even the smallest bit of bitterness toward Selune on their part.

#dame aylin #isobel thorm #shadowheart #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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trickstarbrave · 3 months

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i still really hate ppl saying vivec is a liar or a historical revisionist bc the 36 sermons aren't 100% factual historical accounts. its extremely obvious they are not supposed to be. they are not called "the life of the god vivec" they are SERMONS. they are meant to teach religious and moral lessons, not give you an accurate, objectively correct, factual account of real historical events. his parents are not named. he was an 'egg' in the womb and then when he was 'born' he was a fully grown being. its cloaked in poetic language because what you are supposed to take from them is not a historical lesson but a religious or spiritual one.

like. lets say you wanna communicate how a traumatic event has impacted you. and that you have only two options to do so: one that is as factually accurate as you can make it with a limited perspective told unbiasedly, or a creative project like a poem or novel that is designed to evoke an emotional reaction in the reader. the first one will give an accurate account of the event but not how it impacted you. by nature of how its being told you are giving only the cold hard facts because your emotional state might involve leaving out important factual details to get an accurate view of what happened. the other one is not telling someone exactly what happened to you, but is communicating something that might be much more important: how it impacting you emotionally, mentally, and physically by making your audience relate to, sympathize with, or even empathize with those feelings. it is also not a 100% factual historical account and cannot be used to paint an accurate picture of the events that effected you, though someone could infer many details.

the 36 sermons are about trauma and achieving divinity and what that divinity even means. vivec is a person who was deeply traumatized. abusive family, ran away, ended up joining a gang selling both his body and hard drugs. he was then picked up off the streets by nerevar (a mer significantly older than him), and learned a lot from him, before likely killing him in at least one timeline, breaking his oath to not use the tools in all others. those are the details about vivec's life we can infer from the sermons or from other lore texts or in game dialogue. there are reasons why he made nerevar HIS student in the sermons and why he never names his parents (at least in the in game ones) and why he describes seht and ayem as both his siblings and parents simultaneously. but if you go "this isn't factually correct, vivec is a liar" you are straight up not going to understand the sermons or vivec or take away any important lessons from them.

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pjowrites · 3 months

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she’s gone

Luke x reader, Percy x sister reader Warning: dead reader, sad, child of Poseidon, and bad grammar

reblogs and constructive criticism in comments are appreciated

Luke loved you, well he did, and he would continue to if you were here. The problem was you weren’t. You had died a couple years ago. You and Luke were outside of camp, on a quest. Zeus was always out to get you due to anger at his brother for breaking the oath. That’s not the point of the story though. Percy had just been claimed and was moving into his empty cabin, but when he walked in the door with Luke, who had offered to go with him, he saw one of the beds had a stuffed dolphin. The wall next to it was covered in polaroids, sketches of sea creatures, and magazine cutouts of popular tourist attractions. Percy set his stuff on one of the other beds before walking over to look at the pictures. Luke followed him, “that’s y/n.” “Where is she? I haven't seen her.” “She’s gone.” Luke looked at the floor, “she’s been gone for a while.” “Oh… what happened?” “Zeus sent monsters after her, I couldn’t save her, so she didn’t make it. She would have liked you.” Percy looked away from the picture at Luke’s last sentence. “She would have liked me?” Luke smiled just a little, “yeah, she always wanted a sibling, but…” percy knew that as a kid of the big three life was dangerous. He knew that it could get you and others killed. “Well let’s get you settled in.” Luke helped Percy settle in befor going back to his cabin. He pulled a couple of polaroids out they were all you or you and him when the two of you first got to camp, on field trips (where you always snuck away to some good fast food place for a minute), at the lake, and anywhere else that you could get one. As he looked through the poloroids he found one of you in one of his hoodies doing some silly pose and surrounded by orange, red, and yellow leaves. You looked so happy. He could almost hear your voice. (Flashback) “Come on Luke this would be a great way to remember our quest. Plus it would make a great addition to our polaroid collection.” You dragged Luke by the arm through whatever park you were walking through. Luke smiled at how happy you were, “ok give me the camera.” (End of flashback) Luke continued to look through the photos he found one she took of you at the lake. (Flashback) “come on Luke! The water’s nice” Luke looked up from the bag of clothes to you. “Only because you make it behave.” “Fine your loss!” Click! “What are you doing Luke?” “Taking a picture of my girlfriend.” You walked over. “Nice picture.” “Only because you're in it.” (End of flashback) Luke longed to see you again more than words could express, but you were gone. Luke could only hope that you had been given fair judgment because you were the best person he could ever have met.

#brother!percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x sister!reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan x reader #demigod content #fanfic #sad stories

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