#how he's so terrified of being made a pawn and he is. playing a game against elias where he couldn't even see the board | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mcverse · 1 year

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hi!!!! i have a req for neteyam x na’vi reader with a “marriage of convenience” trope. where reader does genuinely try to make it work with neteyam, but after months of being shut down she stops trying after talking to kiri. neteyam has always treated reader as a duty to be fulfilled, but LOWKEY has feelings for her he keeps SUPPRESSSSEDDDDD. however, after one of readers good friends from another clan visits, neteyams jealousy gets hold of him. you could make the rest however you’d like, but happy ending please🫶🏽

Pairings: Neteyam x F! Na’vi! Reader

Type: One Shot

Word count: 3.1K

Warnings: Angst, Miscommunication, slight jealous, not proof read, edited to fix mess ups

Side Bar: You’re amazing for requesting this! Thank you!!!

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please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+, and although I can't monitor who reads my work, if you are not 18+ I advise that you do not engage in my page or stories.

Love, that elusive and mysterious emotion, has captivated you since you first heard about it. The concept of love is a feeling of warmth, passion, and a connection that's deeper than anything else, impossible to ignore. It's terrifying and exhilarating, often filled with moments of joy, uncertainty, and vulnerability.

But falling in love? That's a whole different story. It's like the world suddenly shifts into a whole new perspective. Colors are brighter, sounds are louder, and everything you didn't care about before suddenly becomes beautiful and captivating.

Your thoughts, your mind, your body - everything is consumed by the object of your affection. No amount of daydreaming or silly little creepy crawlers in your tummy could ever prepare you for finally being seen by them, for being loved by them.

It's tragic that not everyone has the luxury of falling in love for themselves. In many clans, people come together for the benefits of both parties. Love becomes an afterthought when situations arise, and it breaks your heart. It's almost like love becomes foreign to them, despite having found it on their own.

But to be forced into a relationship of convenience, not truly knowing the other person, is frightening and challenging. They're a stranger, and it feels so wrong to love them. It's like they weren't made for you, like Eywa didn't create them for you. And it hurts. It's a deep, stabbing pain in your chest that never truly goes away.

Why is it that anyone but you is allowed to love who they want?

The thought reverberates in your mind, a constant reminder of the burden you bear. Love, the very essence of Na’vi emotion, was supposed to be a choice, a right, not a privilege granted by duty. But there you are, trapped in a loveless relationship, forced into a union that you never wanted.

"It's your duty," they told you, as if that was supposed to make it easier. As if it was supposed to alleviate the guilt and the pain. "You will learn to love Neteyam, the chief of the Omaticaya Clan." It was always for the greater good, always about the needs of the clan. "This alliance will strengthen the Na'vi, it is the will of your father."

But what about your will? What about your heart? You didn't want to learn to love someone; it wasn't realistic, it was forced. The very idea of it was distressing, and it made you sick just thinking about it.

You knew, deep down, that it wasn't about how you felt, though.

It was clear as you saw your future mate leave your shared hut hurriedly, feeling the weight of the unspoken understanding between you. He was just as much a victim of this situation as you were, and it was obvious that love was an afterthought to him, just as it was to your people. You were just a means to an end, a pawn in a game that you never asked to play.

But you had to play along, no matter how unbearable it got. You sought him out against your better judgement, watching him like always from the distance at first. It was justified, your future mate was intimidating in both height and build. If he wanted to, he could break you easily, ridding you of existence due to your constant annoyance over the past few months.

When you finally work up the nerve, the training session have ended and you use that time approach him, fiddling with the small basket of Yovo fruits, “Ma Neteyam,” you called out to him, grabbing his attention immediately.

He tenses up, his face hardening as he motions with his head for the last young warrior to leave before giving his attention back to you, “Ma [Name], what are you doing here?” He asked, eyes flickering to the basket. His hands twitched by his side but remained there.

“I knew you would be training hard, Neteyam, so I thought I'd bring you a treat," you said, smiling up at him. You cringed inwardly at how needy you must look, reminding yourself why you had to get along with him.

Neteyam's lips formed a tight line, and his forehead creased as if he were pondering something difficult. Finally, he bowed his head to you. "That's kind of you," he said, his eyes drifting off to the side. "But I don't want any. Perhaps the trainees would?"

You could tell he was playing the nice card, as he always did. What he really meant was, "I don't want anything from you." Your ears flattened against your head in disappointment, and you lowered the basket.

"Of course," you said, trying to hide your disappointment. "What a great idea. Do you mind giving it to them then?" You raised the basket, suddenly feeling the weight of it more heavily than before, and offered it to him.

As Neteyam took the basket from you, you couldn't help but feel a small spark of hope. Maybe this time would be different. But as his fingers brushed yours, you felt him pull away as if your touch was toxic. His reaction stung, but you tried to hide it as he turned away from you.

"Of course," he muttered, barely looking at you.

You couldn't stand how he was treating you. It seemed like no matter how hard you tried, he was always shutting you out. You couldn't help but wonder if he was even trying to make this work.

You were caught between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, you couldn't force him to love you, but on the other hand, you couldn't bear the thought of being alone if he doesn’t come around. The fact that this was all just for the benefit of your clans didn't make it any easier.

You tried to salvage the conversation, “Will I see you for dinner?” You tried again to make the effort, only to be shot down immediately, no hesitation whatsoever.

“I have patrols. Don’t wait up.” He left soon after, leaving you frustrated and hopeless. Nothing you ever do is reaching him, was he made out of actual rock?

It's annoying how one-sided everything feels.

You always initiate contact, never the other way around. You bring him gifts, participate in his customs and traditions, and cook for him, only to be met with silence or absence. And yet, you continue to do it all with a forced smile, hoping that one day he'll see your effort and reciprocate.

But the reality is, you don't know how much longer you can keep up this charade of a marriage. From the outside, it's a picture-perfect union, respected by all. But inside, you barely speak to each other and can't stand being in the same room together for more than a few minutes. It's like there's too much space, yet you feel suffocated at the same time.

You expressed how you felt later that day with Kiri, as you always do. She, along with her youngest brother, Lo’ak understood what it was like to feel different from her people—soon to be your people. So it felt right confiding in her, knowing she gets you when your future mate doesn’t make the effort to try.

Kiri sat next to you, intently fixing a necklace for one of the clanmates who had messed up. As she worked, she spoke softly, "That's unlike my brother, I don't understand why he's acting like this towards you." She gave you a sympathetic look before continuing, "I know it's frustrating, but give it some more time."

You couldn't help but let out a frustrated huff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. "That's all I've been giving. When is enough time enough?" you asked, your voice tinged with annoyance. You knew you weren't exaggerating or imagining things.

Kiri paused her work, considering your words for a moment before offering a suggestion. "Perhaps you need to approach it differently. Focus on yourself, as he focuses on the village. Maybe then he'll realize that he should have been focused on you too."

You looked at her with surprise, not expecting such wise advice from her. As she placed the finished necklace on the low table, you smiled genuinely for once, feeling a glimmer of hope. This was the best advice she had ever given you, and you knew it was time to stop waiting for him to come to you and start putting your own feelings first.

After thanking Kiri and complimenting her handiwork, you left her hut feeling a sense of relief wash over you. The air felt fresher and lighter, as if the weight of your worries had been lifted off your shoulders.

From that moment on, you threw yourself back into your tsakarem training, determined to become a skilled and respected member of the Omaticaya clan. By immersing yourself in their culture and customs, you began to feel a deeper connection to both the people and the land.

This newfound sense of belonging also opened up new opportunities for you to assist with the day-to-day tasks of the tribe, and in return, they offered their guidance and support to help you adjust to your new way of life.

The perfect example would be currently, where you were in your hut crushing herbs that Tuk had brought you after hearing you asking about them. You were actually happy knowing Neteyam’s family were warming up to you. But Neteyam was still distant.

As you crushed the herb, you couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration and hurt. You had heard countless stories about the Omaticaya chief, Neteyam, and his unwavering loyalty and attentiveness to his people. Yet, when it came to you, his soon-to-be mate, he seemed to give you the cold shoulder.

You had tried to make him a priority in your life, but it seemed like he didn't feel the same way. Why did he get to act like he didn't want you while you had to pine after him? It didn't make sense to you, especially since you were in an arranged marriage for the sake of your clans' alliance.

As you were lost in thought, you were startled by the sound of your hut's entrance swooshing open. You looked up to see Aeknim, one of your close friends from your old home, smiling at you. "[Name], I was hoping you were here!" he exclaimed, taking a seat across the low table from you.

“Aeknim, what are you doing here?” You asked, curious about the goofy grin on his face. You haven’t seen him since you left, to come out of the blue must be important.

He chuckled, raising his head high, “I have found a worthy mate.” He proudly said, patting his chest with his right hand for a job well done.

You put down the pestle you were holding and clasped his hands in yours, "That's amazing news, my friend! Tell me all about her." As he shared the details of his new love, you couldn't help but feel happy for him.

Aeknim spent the afternoon telling you all about his new mate while you caught up on old times. You even forgot about your tsakarem training for the day, knowing that there were other healers in the village who could cover for you. One day wouldn’t hurt.

As night fell and it was time for Aeknim to depart, you walked him to the edge of the village to say goodbye. You ignored the curious glances from your fellow villagers as you hugged your friend tightly and bid him farewell, wishing him well on his journey and sending him off with some healing ointment in case he needed it.

When you approached your hut coming back, you noticed Neteyam standing in front of it, his expression inscrutable as he watched you approach with a predatory gaze. You tilted your head up to meet his eyes, wondering what had brought him here.

Without preamble, he demanded, "Who was that?"

Confused, you asked, "Who was who?"

Neteyam inhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tensing as he closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they blazed with an intensity that made you take a step back. "The man you were walking around the village with," he said, his voice deeper than usual as he stepped closer to you. He bent his head, allowing a few braids to fall into his face. "That's who I'm talking about."

You recoiled at the sudden change in Neteyam's demeanor. The tension emanating from him was uncomfortable and you couldn't maintain eye contact with him any longer. As you tried to process his words, you looked away.

Aeknim was the man he was referring to, but you couldn't fathom why Neteyam was so bothered by you walking with him. You decided to meet his intense gaze again, but his eyes, usually a bright yellow, were darker and it made you shudder.

"Yes, Aeknim came to visit me," you confirmed, hoping to dispel any misunderstandings.

"He came to see you?" he repeated, furrowing his brow in confusion. He leaned back slightly and asked, "Why did he come to see you?"

You paused for a moment, caught off guard by his sudden interest in your life. You couldn't recall a time when Neteyam cared about what you did or who you spent time with, and it annoyed you that he was being so attentive now.

"Why does that matter to you?" you asked, your tone defensive as you tried to keep the frustration out of your voice. You noticed his tail swishing behind him aggressively, and it only served to make you more uneasy.

Neteyam didn’t like what he was hearing. No, he didn’t like what he was seeing. His mate was defending another male, it made him sick inside and angry… the only male you should be protecting is him.

"You are my mate--" he began, but you cut him off, your ears flattening against your head at his words. You could feel your own anger rising, a fierce determination filling you.

"Yet, I am not your mate yet," you corrected him, standing your ground. You had done nothing wrong, so where was this interrogation coming from? It was almost as if he had lost his mind.

Eywa help him.

Neteyam shook his head, his braids swaying with the movement. "Now and then, you are my mate!" he spat, his face scrunched up in disgust. "Who visits my mate late into the night is my concern. You are my concern."

“You have an interesting way of showing concern for your mate, especially over the last few months,” you retorted, holding back a scoff as you watched confusion flash across Neteyam's face.

“Did you forget? Because I certainly haven't,” you continued, your expression softening slightly as you finally allowed your exhaustion to show.

It had been a constant struggle trying to reach him, and now is the time you choose to feel vulnerable, “You've been distant while I've been trying to connect with you. Not cold, necessarily, but you might as well have been with your absence.”

Neteyam's face softened as realization dawned on him as you continued, “I had to learn how to live here from people other than you. Your family has been around more than you have.” You finished, waiting for a response, but he simply stood there, eyes lowered towards the ground.

This time your scoff freely at him, honestly disappointed. You thought this conversation was getting somewhere, somehow to a point where you can come to some sort of agreement but there he goes again avoiding you.

Having enough of him, you brush pass him to enter the hut, “Of course, you have nothing to say.” You expected him to leave after that, like he does every morning to get away from you but he enters behind you, his expression morphed into determination.

“I have nothing to say,” he started, standing in the doorway, despite his expression, his body betrayed him as he’s slightly hunched over and his ears a deep purple, “because I don’t know how else to act with the one who I’ve already fallen in love with, but haven’t fallen for me yet.”

His words catch you off guard, and you turn to face him fully, shoulders losing its tenseness, “What?” You can’t believe he just said that. He loves you?

“I’ve noticed you more than you noticed me. I know that your actions mean nothing to you, while if I returned them, it would mean everything to me.” He started walking towards you, “I know your feelings you display towards me are not genuine. I know you don’t want to mate with me. I know and still can’t help but fall.” He stops a feet away from you, eyes trailing over your face.

“How can I do those things knowing what it means to me, that you don’t see me like I see you.” He finished, looking you in the eyes. There they were, bright yellow, nothing like the other harsh color. He looked as you expectedly, gentle, yearning and vulnerable.

Your throat tightened with emotion as you gazed up at him. His confession was a shock, but a welcome one. It was as though a veil had been lifted, and you saw him in a new light. Perhaps you had been blind to his feelings, too caught up in your own concerns. Perhaps you had been the one in the wrong all along, insensitive to his emotions, and acting selfishly.

Looking at Neteyam now, you saw a man baring his soul to you. He was hoping for your acceptance and understanding, acknowledging his mistakes and making an effort to set them right. You saw him in a new light: gentle, kind, compassionate, and fierce - just as all the stories said.

How could you have missed this before?

"I had no idea," you said, your voice quivering with emotion as tears welled up in your eyes. "I was so focused on my own desires that I neglected to ask about your true feelings."

Neteyam shook his head, "It was my fault for not showing you how I truly felt. If I had, we wouldn't be in this position now."

You chuckled softly, tilting your head down as you brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "You're right about that," you said, reaching out to take his hand in yours. Bringing it to your chest, you looked up at him with a shy smile. "But it doesn't matter. I see you, Neteyam. All of you."

Neteyam's eyes lit up, a goofy grin spreading across his face. He looked so handsome and carefree, and you couldn't help but think that this was what had been holding him back all this time.

"I see you too, [Name]. I always have," he said, pulling you close to him. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.

Maybe you can learn to love him, wholeheartedly and authentically.

Edit: Thank you for all the likes and reblogs! Means a lot ❤️ Helpful hint for reblogs, be sure to add # to be found

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New post : all my life I had to fight, Lo’ak x human! reader

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jester-dragons-aus · 18 days

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Ah fuck I've done it again

Amalgam AI AU

I've seen some AUs about the humans being AI instead of Caine and I thought that might be the simplest way to get this monstrosity to happen with a massive glitch without abstraction playing a part.

I think I just really like horror AUs and doing stuff like that is just so fun so I made another one with a better title than "Horror House" cuz c'mon what the hell does that mean lol

The only characters I don't have designed currently are Zooble, Caine, and Bubble but I'll add them soon. Caine will be a human, Bubble could be something to help him out and what not.

Inspired by AUs like Sm-baby's and The Horror Circus AU, but like, different ofc.

Think this: the game wasn't originally supposed to be a horror game, just a game you go through for fun. Like Undertale, I guess? But not quite

[WARNINGS: LOTS OF EYES/ARACHNID IMAGERY, BODY HORROR, EYESTRAIN]

So first and foremost, I think people would wanna see Pomni, though Jax was the first to be designed.

Pomni is supposed to be some sort of anti-virus or some sort of protecting thing. Supposed to fix bugs and glitches and prevent viruses from getting into the game. Like a firewall, I guess? I tried to make her look like "right/wrong" esc thing. She was the last to be designed and it was like 1 am when I designed her. I had no clue what to do with her, I'll be completely honest.

Story wise, she'd be trying to find a way to undo this massive glitch and get the game back to normal before she can even rest. Once Caine pops up to try and fix the game from inside, as a dev himself, she does her best to protect him and help him fix the game.

No there is no shipping in this AU, they're just helping each other basically survive. They might become friends over time but nothing more. :V

Next up: Ragatha and Gangle! I actually really like Gangle's design but Ragatha definitely needs a few tweaks I think.

Ragatha, before this massive glitch, would have been an NPC that would help a player out at the start but end up getting lost after a certain point, like a tutorial. She was the most caring character in the game before everything went down.

Gangle used to be someone who ran a little theatre thing in the game, as I've seen from other AUs and took inspiration from, but she's usually nice no matter what mask she has on. More arms means she can help more people at once, right? Game mechanics wise she was like a little shop keeper for costumes if they're needed and she can help with newer mechanics on stage if something new is added. Friendly NPC, you know? Love her design, too!

Now for the first two to be designed, Jax and Kinger!!

So Jax was like a reoccurring villain, I guess. Always trying to make the player quit the game or just scare the shit out of them, despite him not being very scary himself. He's more played off to be a joke character, if I'm honest, always failing with his antics and what not. It's part of the code! I actually like his design, small lil paws and just so shapey over all.

Kinger was like a final boss, I guess? The scariest of all of them at that time. He was a king, ruling over his pawns and such, all of which were also bug themed! I love making Kinger bug related it's so fun. He's a big softie in reality but hits like a train if you ever went against him. He had terrible vision despite all of his eyes and was very slow despite the amount of legs.

Now for what everyone has been waiting for.

The reason for the AU title.

The MASSIVE glitch that caused everything to go downhill.

The Amalgam.

I still think it needs a few tweaks here and there but this is one of four concepts I've had for it.

One time all four of these characters were together, which was relatively rare but possible, a glitch happened in the game. Pomni doesn't know where it started from and none of the game devs understand how it happened, but it did. Some devs think there's a hacker. A massive glitch pulled those four characters together into one terrifying being, always hostile and destructive. All the code of the characters were merged into this thing and somewhat scrambled. The game has now been broken to where once you're in, you can't escape until it's fixed, yet no one knows it, which is why Caine went in.

So much has happened and it's still being fixed, but a hostile blob of characters constantly attacking whenever it's near? It will be hard to fix.

It seems to be guarding something.

Concepts for the amalgam:

You can see in the first one I was going to put Zooble there but I still need a good design for Zooble. Let's see what they'll be.

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc caine #tadc kinger #tadc pomni #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #tadc gangle #tadc zooble #tadc au #amalgam ai tadc au #aatadc au #tw body horror #tw spiders #tw eyestrain #tw eye horror #don't tag as ship

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dalgursbate · 10 days

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make a mess, lioness (4/?)

Summary: It’s much easier to get the upper hand in a negotiation when you’re the one on top. Or, Tav reads Raphael’s diaries.

WC: 12,194 Rating: E Pairing: M/F, Raphael/Tav, Raphael/Haarlep, Haarlep/Tav

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

When Tav awakes at dawn the next morning, her body aches like a sweet memory even as her gut roils with the bile and lead that seem to have made a home in it. Every stretch of her poor, abused form is at once delicious and terrifying; every exploratory press of fingertips into tender flesh revealing another place where she has been made vulnerable by Raphael’s touch.

She struggles to swallow, choking on nothing but her own tightening throat at the thought of the bet she’s made. She doesn’t remember the exact details, isn’t sure that Raphael even really described them before she metaphorically signed, but she knows that wagering with one’s soul is typically bad form.

Oh well. It’s too late to change the past, Tav supposes. And if she’s being honest, part of her is a little titillated at the thought of this cat and mouse game with Raphael playing out. There’s something about the idea of teasing him, driving him crazy, that she hasn’t been able to shake since she first read his diaries. She is, truthfully, looking forward to getting to indulge that impulse freely; she finds it exhilarating even as it frightens her. Mostly, she just wishes she better understood the terms of their agreement.

Almost as if a prayer has been answered, Tav notices through the thin haze of grogginess clouding her mind that a crisp envelope is waiting for her in her tent, poised delicately atop her robes (and had she folded them so immaculately last night? She doesn’t think so).

Tav would know who the missive was from even if the telltale aroma of cherries and sulfur didn’t cling to the paper, but the smell of it nevertheless sets a frisson of heat alight in her belly. Ugh, she thinks. It’s humiliating how susceptible she is to Raphael’s charms, sometimes. Nevertheless, she holds out hope that whatever is inside of it will offer some clarification on the situation she has gotten herself into.

As she picks up the envelope, Tav can feel that there’s something small and bulky inside of it, something other than mere paper, and she wonders at what that might be. But as she removes the wax seal adorned with a devilish crest, the first thing she encounters is a piece of parchment. Carefully, Tav begins to scan the page, though her efforts are thwarted somewhat by the lingering sleep that still clings to her eyes. It makes it a bit difficult to focus on the words, but eventually Tav is able to parse them. The letter, perfumed with the scent of Raphael’s cologne and written in a fine, cursive hand, reads:

The lanceboard is set and the curtains are drawn,

But the game we shall stage will have nary a pawn.

Instead, it is waged ‘twixt a King and his Queen,

And ends only when one must exeunt from the scene.

For in order is bliss, we shall take play in turns;

Each to stoke in the other the fire that burns.

On this board, the players have charge of their rival–

Your turn only forfeit upon your arrival.

You may use them, abuse them, amuse at your leisure,

But moves must be made in pursuit of their pleasure.

Now, enough exposition; let’s begin the dramatics–

For this story has promised to be quite climactic.

White always moves first, so, my dear little bird:

Collect now your piece, pet, and utter the word.

As Tav finishes reading, she notices that the ink on the page smells faintly of Infernal magic; it seems that Raphael has somehow altered the terms of their agreement, or perhaps simply elaborated them. At least, Tav thinks he has. She doesn’t quite remember what exactly she assented to last night, after all, given the state she was in; it’s possible that this was all in there, though that seems unlikely with how frenzied the whole situation had felt. It’s also possible, she imagines, that the agreement was so vague that Raphael was able to define the terms to his own liking, devil that he is. Either way, she has obviously made a grave error in not hammering out the details more precisely.

Still, at least these rules offer a bit of clarity. If Tav is reading it right, it seems like they’ll each get to take turns subjecting the other to erotic torture, and the turn ends when the person whose turn it is orgasms. So on and so forth until one of them cries uncle. Simple enough, and thankfully Tav already has a number of ideas about how she might exploit such a loose structure to her advantage. They slide around in her mind easily, the images of them caressing her brain in a way that sends excitement straight to the core of her.

Perhaps this won’t be so bad, she thinks as she upends the envelope, dumping the other item inside of it into her waiting palm. As the skin of her hand is greeted by cool, heavy stone, Tav quickly recognizes the small statue as a lanceboard piece. Specifically, the white queen. After all, it seems like it’s my turn first. There is nothing particularly noteworthy about the piece, aside from its obviously fine make, except that around its neck is a thin scarlet ribbon. The ribbon bears a tiny slip of paper, upon which the unfamiliar spell “cupio” is written in neat lettering.

Tav absentmindedly mutters the word aloud to herself, testing the feel of it out on her tongue, and two things happen at once.

First, the ink on the letter glows bright, fiery red for a moment before cooling back to the rust-colored script that lay there previously. Oh, Tav thinks. So it probably wasn’t actually binding before. She presumes it is now, though—that her adherence to the instruction constituted consent to the new terms.

This is why I’m a sorcerer and not a warlock, Tav thinks to herself with a groan.

The second thing that happens is somehow more distressing, which is that as the spell leaves her lips the queen begins vibrating wildly, as though affected by some variation of the blur spell. It isn’t making any noise, but she can feel it buzzing against her skin in a strange and intoxicating manner, like she is holding a handful of surprisingly pleasant bees.

Then, as if on cue, a mage hand appears from thin air and delicately plucks the piece from her hand. She only has a moment to be startled before the hand is moving again. It traces the crown of the queen over the bones in Tav’s wrist, as though mapping out her anatomy with due care. Gradually, it leads the piece up her arm, just barely dragging the tip of it over her skin.

It is like nothing she’s ever experienced before, the stone humming intently but delicately over her flesh. As it tickles her sensitive inner arm and dances up over her shoulder, she can feel herself sighing and leaning into it intuitively. Tav is only wearing her smallclothes, so the flesh the piece ghosts over is gloriously naked, raising goosebumps in its wake and making her grow wet in anticipation of where else it might touch her. Her body is still so hyperreactive from the way it was lavished over last night, and the hand’s unhurried teasing is exquisite in a way that is entirely foreign to her.

On some level, she knows she ought to be questioning why this is happening. But her mind is still so addled and overwhelmed from Raphael's attentions and the sluggishness of sleep that she does not find she has it in her to put a stop to something so nice. Especially not when the piece glides down her chest to vibrate against her nipples. She can feel them harden almost instantly, a combination of the temperature of the marble and the surprising ecstasy of it, and Tav almost cries out.

She barely has time to focus on smothering the sound before the hand is moving down, down, down to where her cunt is still covered by cotton. It hovers just above the waistband, gently petting her pelvis with the piece through her panties.

And, oh, Gods, she desperately wants to feel this lovely alien sensation on her clit.

“More,” Tav begs without thinking, because of course she doesn’t think. Why would she think? If one were to examine only the past twenty-four hours, they might come to the conclusion that Tav both has never thought and will never think again.

Gods, I could never be a wizard either, she grouses to herself, before adding: And I can never, ever tell Gale that. He would be insufferable about it.

Evidently ignorant to her frustrated internal monologue, the hand acquiesces to the request. Tav lets out a loud gasp that turns into a moan as the strange buzzing lights every nerve in her cunt on fire. The hand rubs the crown of the queen in small, tight circles against her underwear, and it is a matter of mere moments before Tav is writhing and squirming against it. She is captivated by the sheer decadence of it all, by the ease with which the hand has undone her without her having to lift a finger. Without having to take off her smallclothes, even. It has her muttering and whimpering her climax into her fist to keep from making too much noise, undone so thoroughly by something so small.

As soon as she rides out the last waves of pleasure against the cold marble, the hand disappears and the piece ceases its vibration. Tav barely has a moment to catch her breath and come down before her surroundings dissipate in a puff of red, sparkling smoke. When the world comes back together, she is sitting not in her tent at camp, but on the floor of Raphael’s boudoir.

“What the fuck?” Tav asks, blinking up blearily at the cambion in front of her. He’s currently sitting at a desk, dressed in his business attire. She suddenly feels very naked.

“Hello, little mouse,” Raphael grins, looking extraordinarily pleased with himself. “Did you enjoy your turn? Because I know I am going to enjoy mine.”

“My turn?” Tav repeats, confused, until the significance of Raphael’s words sets in. Once they have, she is alert in an instant. “But–wait–no. Do you mean just now? I wasn’t even the one in control of that! That’s not what the parchment said.”

“Mmm, I distinctly recall you demanding ‘more,’ pet,” Raphael counters, and by the Gods, Tav swears she is never interacting with a devil before sunrise again. Or after sunset. Really, whenever it’s dark out. “You did not give me any orders to refrain from touching you, as I recall. I am bound by our contract to do as you tell me—not to only do as you tell me.”

Tav processes that, and stows it away for use in the future; that must mean the same is true in reverse. Still, though: “But–but. But that wasn’t for your pleasure, surely.”

“Was it not? Because I enjoyed myself immensely,” he says, and sweeps a hand downward to gesture at the obvious bulge in his trousers.

Tav swallows.

That bastard.

“So it’s your turn, then,” she says slowly, and despite everything she can feel anticipation pulsing in the core of her. “What would you have me do?”

Raphael pretends to think about it for a moment, before saying, “I think I’d like you to come sit on my lap, pet.”

Tav hesitates for a moment, wondering what his game is, but the impatient look in his eye stirs her into motion as she remembers that her soul depends on her compliance. As such, she cautiously begins to shuffle toward him on her knees.

“Oh, but strip first would you? I want to admire you.”

It sounds painfully earnest despite the cool affectation in his voice, and Tav flushes. She does as he asks, though, ridding herself of the lacy underthings adorning her body without a word. As soon as she is naked, she gingerly climbs into his lap.

“Gorgeous,” Raphael says under his breath, almost as though he did not intend to, and Tav can feel the blood rise to her cheeks even faster.

With a gentle hand, Raphael repositions her so that Tav is sitting with her back to his chest, straddling his right thigh. One of his hands slides up the plane of her stomach to cup her breast lightly, while the other kneads a steady rhythm into her hip. A third hand, what Tav assumes must be a mage hand, tangles gently in her hair to guide her to bare her neck. Then, Raphael leans down to drag his nose along the line of her throat. He inhales deeply at her pulse point, apparently savoring her scent, before his tongue darts out to taste her. Distantly, Tav hears herself whine.

“You’re truly delectable, you know,” Raphael says against her skin. “You make it nearly impossible to get any work done.” Once more, Tav finds herself squirming. The praise feels good, feels too good, and it settles inside of her a bit uncomfortably. It is as though half of her brain is fighting to reject his words and the other half desperately craves more of them. “Imagine how it feels to finally have you right where I want you.”

Tav tells herself that he is manipulating her, that he is merely trying to win this game he has started. She tries to gather her bearings and keep her wits about her. Still, she finds herself asking, “This is where you want me?”

“Yes,” Raphael hisses, and his sharp, sharp teeth graze her so very softly. Tav gasps, writhing into the feeling.

She tries to force a dry chuckle from her lips, but it ends up sounding like a strangled cat. “For how long? I have hero stuff to do, you know.”

Raphael doesn’t answer her, just slides the fingers at her hip lower, skates them feverishly over her pelvis. Tav instinctively opens her legs for him, leaning back against him further to offer him better access to her still-dripping cunt. She forces her eyes open, unsure of when exactly they had closed, so she can watch as two of his devilish claws carefully part her folds. Tav is captivated by the sight of it, and she moans unbidden as he spreads his fingers around her clit, rubbing either side of it.

Fuck, it’s so hot. It’s so hot. And then he starts talking again.

“So pretty,” he murmurs against her neck, like he’s reciting a litany. “So clever. So resourceful. So powerful. I hope you realize what a marvel you are.” The pad of one finger grazes over her clit head-on, and Tav nearly screams. She isn’t used to being talked to like this, touched like this. Like she’s more valuable than any finery in the entirety of the House of Hope. Like she’s more valuable than anything. It’s too much, she thinks. I can’t take it. As if Raphael can sense her hesitation, he plants a hot, wet kiss to her throat. The deft fingers on Tav’s clit pick up speed and pressure, rubbing delicious patterns into her skin as she bucks and keens.

“You’re incredible like this,” he says, and the sincerity Tav can hear in his voice sends her reeling. But he refuses to slow down, repeating, as if to himself, “You’re incredible.” He keeps plucking at her strings like a virtuoso does a violin, and Tav feels her incoming climax build in a glorious crescendo. She arcs her hips upwards, bracing her body weight with one hand on the seat of the chair as she throws her head back onto his shoulder. The noises she’s making now are lurid, filthy; tears begin to prick the corners of her eyes.

Raphael speaks again, deadly serious, “Let me cherish you, pet. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” Tav mumbles, only half aware of the words leaving her lips, and then cries out. Her bliss overtakes her in a brutal rush of searing heat, wave after wave of arousal and pleasure crashing over her. It feels as though she has dived headfirst into an endless lava pit, the way her bones are melting inside of her with no reprieve in sight. She collapses back into Raphael, panting and gasping for air.

The room is still for a long moment as she recovers. As her breathing calms, Raphael removes his fingers from the slick mess in between Tav’s thighs and sucks them greedily into his mouth.

“You taste good, too,” he says after he removes them, echoing Tav’s words from their first encounter. Against her will, she hears herself whimper. “Now be a good pet and get on your knees.”

#my writing #my fic #bg3 raphael #bg3 tav #raphael/tav #raphael/haarlep #haarlep/tav #make a mess lioness

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wallwriterstuff · 2 years

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A Little Magic - Every Part of The Spell

TW for magical amensia drugs, angst, foul language, descriptions of violence, blood, and death. These go across the series and each part has individual warnings for that specific chapter.

Nature is power, power can be tamed, and those who know that crave it all the more, as Y/N, Demetri and Castor are about to find out.

Part 1: A Little Magic

Nature is power, power can be tamed, and those who know that crave it all the more. When your power is revealed to the wrong people, events seem to spiral out of control and beyond your comprehension. It quickly becomes apparent there is a much larger game being played, one in which you and Demetri are mere pawns, but how can you win when you don’t know the rules?

Part 2: A Game of Cat and Mouse

After being cast out by the Grand Magister a game of survival ensues, one pitting tracker against witch in a race to reach each other.

Part 3: A Book and A Bargain

Demetri’s knowledge of you is woefully inadequate and he vows to change that. Though he strives to find out more about your world, it only makes him more uncertain about his place in his, and certain revelations lead him to strike a desperate bargain that will ultimately make or break you both.

Part 4: A Moment Made For Us

A month is a fleeting moment, a sliver of time that is inconsequential to a man who has forever. To Demetri, every precious moment of the month he’s spent with you is engraved in his head and heart. In other words, this is how the vampire and the witch fell in love.

Part 5: A Spindle Prick

After being separated for months becomes too much for either of them to handle, a supposedly simple visit takes a drastic turn for the worst. Y/N, Castor, and Demetri find themselves thrown into the first of many trials as unknown forces conspire against them.

Part 6: A Witch’s Wrath

Castor is unconscious, but his parting gift to Demetri has allowed him to track his mate. The tracker is desperate to bring justice to those who would dare harm his mate, but the events he sets in motion have lethal consequence that will refract throughout nature…

Part 7: A Revelation

While recovering from a barbaric attack carried out by Merida, an unexpected visit from the High Council puts everyone on edge.

Part 8: A Message In A Bottle

Elder Oili gave Y/N a message only she would understand, forcing her to lie to the Volturi in the process. With tensions rising, Y/N attempts an enlightening journey that will put her at the heart of everything, while knowing nothing.

Part 9: A Lesson In History

Y/N and Castor have finally found the red door, but behind it lies a web of lies so dense that to unravel them it means to unravel the very reality they have lived and believed for centuries...

Part 10: A Truth To Tell

After a night of passionate distraction, Y/N reveals the truth to a dumbstruck Demetri, resolves to make amends with a prideful familiar, and makes an unlikely ally.

Part 11: A War Cry

Desperate for a means to defeat Seren, the group travel to the Athenaeum, where the entire history of magic lies at their fingertips, and their enemies wait in the shadows.

Part 12: A Deluge of Discoveries

The Ancestors reveal a terrifying truth, and Y/N finds herself forced to take extreme measures to use the moonstone as needed.

Part 13: A Peacock’s Tale

Unlocking the secrets of the moonstone will take all of the wit and courage Y/N has. Can it truly reveal a way to stop Seren?

Part 14: A Time For Everything

With Merlin's aid, the trio have a moment to reflect on everything that's happened and everything yet to come.

Part 15: A Full Circle

This story ends the way it begins, with you and Demetri in the middle of a massacre.

Part 16: A Soft Epilogue (Coming 4th December, maybe later depending on how messy my birthday is...)

The world must rebuild and time must move on, however much you wish you could stay in the moment.

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messenger-of-stupidity · 1 year

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A Few Things - Day Two

I haven’t played chess in years...

Day 2 - chess game

Characters: Damien and freelancer

Cw: fluff, crack, cursing, me struggling to remember what chess even is, light mention of spice

Masterlist

Damien knew a few things about Freelancer. In fact, he knew more than a few things. Probably more than he wanted to know after going towards the kitchen and hear deep throated moans from their incubus boyfriend. Needless to say, he didn't try to enter and just went back to their couch with a hot face. He didn't need to know, nor hear, that. But he didn't bring it up and to his knowledge, no one knew. Huxley and Lasko had just assumed that he was frustrated because of the video game they were playing.

Sex escapades aside, he also knew that Freelancer put other people before themselves. It was one of the more frustratingly endearing aspects of them. They pushed down their own care to care about their friends. It was improving to their credit, but they were stubborn. Something he could certainly understand.

But the most important thing was that Freelancer was smart. They may like to deny it, but it was the truth. They were ambitious -- another quality they both shared -- and they picked up new topics quickly. After all, they were introduced to the magic world suddenly and against their control and now they were a pretty powerful freelancer. It was impressive. But outside of magic and academics, they picked up topics fairly quickly. It had taken Damien months to figure out how to calm Lasko down and just make the poor elemental breathe. Granted Lasko had also been terrified of him. Freelancer had figured it out in a couple of short weeks. Mini golf and bowling were another couple examples. Supposedly they never played, and yet they were pretty good at it. Although let the record state that they could just be bullshitting him.

So now here he sat in front of them at a park with just a chess board between them. They had played two games already, and were currently tied. It was supposed to be one, but he had demanded a rematch after they had won. Sue him, he didn't like losing.

They moved forward the pawn that sat idly in front of their rook, moving it forward just one space, rather than the exception-allowed two. He narrowed his eyes at them, not being fooled by their innocent smile.

"It's your move, Damien." They hummed. He rolled his eyes and looked back down at the board. There was nothing really to look out for yet since it was the start of the game. Granted, Freelancer liked to play what the called 'Moral Chess' allowing black to play first. Their reasoning had been because they always liked an underdog. It had bothered him at first, but it didn't really matter in the long run. So they had gotten first move. He chose a Catalan opening, pushing forward his left knight's pawn one space before looking back up at them with a frown. "What's wrong?" They asked, doing that annoying thing where they become a concerned friend.

"Why do you suddenly have an interest in chess?" He asked, watching them move their knight forward. The tail end of the L shape pointed towards his right.

"Who said it was sudden? Maybe I've always had an interest." They said, looking up at him from their eyelashes. He scrunched his nose and continued with the first three pieces for his opening.

"You've never made mention of it. Not once in all the time I've known you. Which is two years, I'll remind you. Almost three." In several months, but that wasn't relevant. "If you like chess, I think I would have found out by now." He said, watching them delicately place their next piece. They made a soft hum in their throat.

"That's fair, I suppose. I'm not lying though. I was into chess, but that was a while ago. I found a chess board again recently and decided I wanted to pick it back up." They answered as Damien finally finished his opening. He wanted to ask 'with what free time?' But he could keep the sarcastic snark to a minimum... for now.

"What, were you some chess prodigy before you became a student at D.A.M.N.?" He asked, if somewhat carefully. Asking anything about pre-magic life to them or Lasko was always a careful game. You could never be sure what would bring up bad memories or emotions. But he also knew that Freelancer didn't like people tip-toeing around them. It was just a delicate game.

"Hm.. I wouldn't call me that, exactly. I'm not some supergenius, but I certainly have a good amount of practiced experience under my belt." If Gavin were here, Damien was sure he would comment about how that wasn't the only thing. The fire elemental placed the piece down more harshly than he intended. He didn't want a running internal monalogue of Gavin-esque responses in his head. Normal conversations would be impossible then.

"Pardon my French, but what the fuck does that mean?" He asked, leaning back against the park bench backing that it would be a stretch to call spine supportive. They laughed and his frown lessened slightly. He was glad they were laughing. It had been rare after everything. It was becoming more common again, but when they didn't think anyone was looking, or paying attention, they would grow more quiet and their lips would press firmly together. Not that he could entirely blame them.

"Well... honestly I'm not sure how to put it. I got it into my head in elementary school that I needed to join a club. It would help me make friends, look good on my transcript, blah blah blah. Not that anyone actually cares what extracurriculars you do in third grade. I bounced around in the typical clubs for a little, even tried some choir. And at some point, I ended up in chess club. It was mainly the older kids. Fifth and sixth graders, you know? Not many little kids are interested in sitting down and playing strategy based game for an hour and some change after a long school day." Damien nodded along as the two continued to play. He claimed one of their pawns but they didn't pause in their story. Unphased. It was only a little annoying.

"So I was the youngest kid there. Became the baby of the club." Seemed like some things never changed. They were always making friends with upperclassmen. "So the older kids just kind of adopted me. They taught me how to play and let me win against them sometimes. They were nice and the club was pretty chill. The club advisory teacher just let us go free-range as long as we didn't break rules or were disruptive to anyone. So I stayed in the club, even though I didn't have any big passion or drive to play chess. It was more about the socialization for me." That didn't really surprise him. He wasn't sure what class of socialization Freelancer fell under, but they seemed content with a small close friend group to spend time with. He cursed softly at they took his rook.

"Anyways, I stayed in the club until the end of that school year. My parents thought I was actually dedicated to chess. Mom was thrilled. She had this idea that I would be a genius and get a high paying job. So in celebration for passing third grade, they bought me a chess board. A really nice one. It had marble, and... I can't really remember. But it was really pretty. And expensive. So they weren't really happy when I didn't play chess all summer break and instead ran around outside eating dirt or some shit. Little kid things." Damien couldn't exactly claim he ever shoved dirt into his mouth as a child. But seeing how much Freelancer and Huxley liked nature, he could see those two eating dirt. Hopefully a habit the two had outgrown. But with those two you could never be too sure...

"But I brought the chess board to the club when the next term started up in the fall. Figured it could get some use that way. It made me more popular in the club and everyone, old members and new, wanted to play against me on it. And as a fourth grader, I was no longer awarded special treatment and just allowed to win here and there. Losing so many times in a row got annoying. As you know." They said as they captured his other rook. Damien huffed and they continued. "So I decided to get better so I wasn't getting my ass whooped everytime. Doubled down determination and a full school year three days a week added up. I got good at it. And I stayed in the club because that was where most of my friends were until I went into junior high." They said. Damien didn't have to ask if they joined the chess club there. Humanbornes often got their magic around that age and they didn't purposefully socialize.

"So you played chess for three years?" He asked as he approached Freelancer's king. They nodded as they moved the queen to take the piece next turn. Damien used a pawn to take the queen and they sighed. "Huh. Well I have a confession." He said. They looked up at him after their turn. He smiled and moved a piece. "I've put you in checkmate."

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted freelancer #redacted damien #messenger of blurbs #writing challenge day 2

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prodekus · 2 years

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One of the more degrading things about being a hero is that villains teach things about yourself that you’d never know on your own.

Chisaki — Overhaul — was a genius, which is what made him so incredibly dangerous to let others be around. Not only was he a genuine master at his craft of extracting Quirks from the body, but he was also a revolutionary. He knew means of control like visible strings connecting society by its very foundation, and if you were a professional, you knew why that made him terrifying as an idol for the lower rungs. He was dangerous as a villain because he was smart; he was more dangerous as an individual because he knew how to get a rebellion started.

He was dangerous to Deku for both reasons.

“You have immeasurable power,” Overhaul had said to him in his basement. In that damp, dark place, with cements crackling like old trees in an undisturbed forest, he’d been seeding doubt into Deku’s mind. “And instead of using it for control like you could be doing, you play this ridiculous game of good versus evil. You’re a pawn in their dichotomy, and I know that you’ve met other individuals who have told you the same.”

“In order to prove your rebellion as gospel, you hurt others,” Deku said. “Here is the key difference between you and me, Overhaul: You hurt others as an initiative, and I hurt others as defense. If I could avoid it, I would never hurt a single person; the very difference of dark versus light is the fact that I will save others, not injure their attackers.”

“They’ve given you lies,” Overhaul said in a much lower voice, and he’d awoken something in Deku then: the feeling that he’d been given a genuine secret, and a powerful one. He hated not knowing, and he hated being forced for others to not know. One for All had done the most dangerous thing to him that he could’ve ever known—lying. And this truth, spilling out of Overhaul, was a gift he knew he could give Deku. A present he’d fall for.

“My bullets? They’re the same sleep-element that comes with the euthanization of animals. It doesn’t hurt you. I know the medium of transfer is unconventional, Deku. But you must understand this: I will hurt less people than All Might had in his career. Do you know how many people he truly hurt, Deku, and how many people he continues to hurt as his initiative? I’m listening to you, but listen to me: heroes are pawns in a dichotomy they put themselves in for the power. I am simply evening the odds.”

“You’re misconstruing what he’s done in his career,” Deku says, softly. Strained.

“Am I?” Overhaul asks. “Or are you seeing the system as it is—corrupt? Both sides are corrupt, yes, people hurt people, but the heroes are strung up idols constructing a world where they are both justified and holy. Think about it: what world have you ever been thanked for your good will, but in fact blamed, because you are setting up a world where they need to try.”

“I…”

“You could be something new.” Overhaul said. “I could purge the world of its illness, with you as my vessel.”

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #overhaul #chisaki kai #midoriya izuku #deku #deku goes missing au #idk how id write this au but its fun lmaoo #my writing

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purefandomonium · 1 year

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Connection Part 10: Secrets

RED: At the time I was bitter and angry. I convinced myself I didn’t want or need help.

RED: All I wanted was for them to understand the pain and suffering they caused me.

RED: …So I showed them.

“You… what?” Leann stared at the GameBoy like it would release all of Red’s secrets on command, ignoring the way her eyes trembled at the blank canvas surrounding his sprite. She felt an odd bit of tension then, some strong emotion hanging in the air. It wasn’t coming from her.

RED: I… I scared them away. Terrified them, really. Made them get rid of me because I wanted to be left alone.

RED: I’m sure they’re still traumatized.

“How? What could you have possibly done to traumatize people? Show them some messed up effects from that shitty camera attachment?”

RED: The what?

“Don’t change the subject.” Red was trying to weasel his way out of answering and she refused to let him. No more running from this. “You’re capable of more than this, aren’t you? Maybe you don’t remember how, but I know you know what else you can do.”

There was a long stretch of silence.

RED: I’m still trapped in this cartridge, Leann. It’s not like I could get out and hurt them.

RED: I just scared them. Glitched the game, freaked them out a little. You know.

“I still wouldn’t call that traumatic.”

RED: You realize not everyone who’s had my game is the same age as you?

RED: I have no way of knowing but I’m sure there were more than a few kids who got weirded out by my antics.

RED: How would you feel if your little kid game suddenly started yelling at you via text and wouldn’t let you play it?

RED: I’m sure they pawned me off the first chance they got.

She hummed. Something about that just didn’t sit right, yet she knew she couldn’t argue. “So… Even after being ‘traumatized,’ no one ever outed you for it? I just… find it a little hard to believe that if other people knew you were sentient, they wouldn’t do more about it?”

RED: Not everyone is as nice as you.

“No… But most people aren’t that simple either. Maybe they wouldn’t have helped you, but I’m willing to bet at least a few would’ve tried to exorcise you or something.”

RED: What would be the point? Would you take that risk?

RED: Imagine. You’re eight years old, you’re gifted a copy of the Pokemon Red because your parents happened to find it dirt cheap. You always wanted to try the original…

RED: Now name me one eight-year-old who’d call a priest because their game spooked them. Name me one adult who’d believe that nonsense.

Leann couldn't argue that. Red had shot that logic down with extreme prejudice. He’d done it a little too well, however. She could feel a sense of discomfort emanating from the device as she stared it down, shifting it in her hands and watching the light slide over the scratched surface.

“That’s awfully specific, Red. You sure you don’t know more than you’re letting on?”

RED: Well what do you think happened then? Go on. Tell me.

She thought about it, letting out a long hum. Every possibility that crossed her mind fell into impossible or supernatural. Of course, given the entire situation with Red in the first place, it wasn’t exactly that out of reach.

RED: Remember how I manipulated the game when I showed you my true self?

She gave an affirmative.

RED: There’s your answer. The glitches… They do much more than break the game.

RED: You have no idea…

“So what? You showed them what happens to you when the game breaks?” A simple ‘yes’ was the only answer she needed. She’d accept it for now and move on. It was clear he wasn’t willing to give up the info. Instead, “Now that you’re recovering or whatever, do you think the damage will go away?”

RED: Hmmm… I can only hope the pain goes away one day.

She blanched. “You’re in pain? Why didn’t you tell me?”

RED: I’m in constant pain. I’ve been through hell, Leann. It’s not like you can do anything about it anyway, so don’t worry. I’m used to it.

RED: Talking with you has made it hurt less though. You’re something I can focus on.

“…Okay… I just don’t… Are you sure there isn’t something that can be done? Maybe it’s the code? I could try to fix it, if you want. It’s up to you though, I know how you feel about that.”

RED: Please don’t mess with the code. It’s broken beyond repair. All I can do is try to preserve it as it is so it doesn’t get any worse.

RED: …But thanks for wanting to try.

“I’m sorry, Red. Do you… want to talk about it? This doesn’t even have to be about your secrets even though I know you’re keeping some. If you just want to rant about all the people who wronged you, I’ll listen. I know more about that than you might think.” She smiled despite knowing he couldn’t see it. While she meant what she said, it would still serve as a way to figure out more about him. She couldn’t speak for the original players, but she knew the next set of kids who would’ve passed the game around definitely had tougher skins. She still remembered the whole Salad Fingers craze, and she herself had grown up with some, admittedly, dark and disturbing material that was somehow still marketed for children.

A spooky sprite would have been nothing in comparison to what was circulating after Red’s creation. It would take something far worse than a glitched cartridge to frighten modern kids.

RED: I guess… I guess talking would be nice. If you don’t mind.

“I don’t.”

Red’s overworld sprite broke apart and morphed into his real self, sitting cross-legged in the empty void. He held her gaze as he spoke.

RED: I guess I should start at the beginning.

“That’s usually how stories work,” she said with an awkward chuckle. She shifted on the bed so she was lying on her stomach, lazily kicking her feet in the air, the GameBoy sitting on the mattress with the screen folded ninety degrees so she could read it. She had a feeling this was going to take a while.

Part 9: here

Part 11: here

#my writing #glitchy red #pokepasta #connection

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shroudandsands · 2 years

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Prompt #7: Pawn

She’d never had any particular notions of being a powerful woman. Certainly she was born one- Then cast aside when she all but abandoned her name for several turns. Retaken, then, only when she’d brought herself up and was sure she could do so without the strings attached. This wasn’t a rags to riches story. She wasn’t a fool. No such thing existed- It was a fantasy sold to the impoverished. To play them in a game they could never win. So she did what anyone would with money and some shred of morality. She changed the game.

Ardeth hadn’t been the first in her employ as part of her company. Perhaps first in name, at least, but there were myriad others she simply had on retainer who acted in some unofficial capacity. Or they were holdovers that she kept on her books simply out of a habit. Or fear, as it were in a few cases. A particularly troublesome xaela woman came to mind. Sbahi. She lived in the walls, now, of the mansion that she had reclaimed. At least... That’s where Nono assumed she was. The madwoman seemed to appear whenever she saw fit and rarely ever otherwise. Whether that ‘fit’ situation was to bother one of the others or to steal food from the kitchens or to find her and terrify her in the middle of the night... It was best nobody asked how her thoughts worked. The others that sprang to mind; Two pirates of the same place, both poached from the same group. Her particularly irritating tall xaela who she had as her personal retainer- Ardeth. And her particularly lackadaisical tall raen- Laoet. Both at each other's throats as soon as her back was turned and her attention was elsewhere. Much the same as when she had hired them both... She wished they’d get over it, but sometimes it was just funny to watch as they descended into chaos.

Did that behelmeted one count as her employee anymore? A’lek? Did she still have him on her books? Shit, was he even alive? She made a mental note to check.

There were a few others that came to mind as she pondered. None nearly as much of a character as the rest- But all held a common thread between them. They weren’t the typical people you would hire to run a mercantile company. Nor would you hire them for anything aboveboard. Ex-pirates. Mercenaries. Those disposed to the more criminal underworld sorts. But she didn’t hire them for that and they knew it for a fact... Even if some expressed some irritation at the level of above-board-ness that she operated on. Not even the fun kind of law abuse that the rich usually abided by. Couldn’t she act more like a syndicate type and bend her economic opposition out of the picture? She always gave them the blank, naive look when they started on those topics.

It would be so easy to play the game as it was intended. To pick up all of her pieces and use them as the pawns that they could be. They were sold on the premise, after all, and some of these she’d hired on had even been inundated with the rules of how it all really worked. But she sat in her office and she could hear a madwoman screeching at her retainer. The other was laughing at his misfortune. Then cursing as he was dragged into it. There was a gunshot. She sighed. She wouldn’t trade the world for it. She was afraid they’d kill whoever else might try to hire them, after all.

Notes; @bayaqud ‘s Sbahi mentioned. @whitherwanderer ‘s Ardeth mentioned.

#FfxivWrite2022 #/Of The Jadeite Veins/Recollections #nono runs a company entirely staffed by people who shouldn't be allowed to work with the public #everyone else is playing business chess #nono is playing rocket tag with her insane employees #luckily she's also nuts

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bluedevilsrpg · 1 year

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CURSED SOLDIER

SHIPWRIGHT. M. ( 32-36 ) Oliver Jackson-Cohen.

HISTORY

OBSESSION EATS YOU, CHEWING YOU IN BETWEEN ITS TEETH UNTIL IT SPITS YOU OUT WHOLE. Your grief makes you delirious, no matter how you lock it behind the door of your memories, it rattles, it weeps and begs with shrieking fury. If you dared to turn the handle, the faceless spirits would consume you, every lost soul that gazed into your eyes, screaming at you for the last shred of your humanity. Sink you must, for you have long abandoned kindness and good - your heart shattered as you bore witness to cruelty. You learned that control is a means to recreating the world as you wanted it to be. Others cursed you for living - for standing and watching in cold indifference while they rotted. Look at him, they said, that apathetic son of a bitch, who cares how many soldiers live or die - they’re pawns all the same. A faint smile threatens to crack the stoic solitude of your controlled visage, they were right, everything - anything, all was precisely calculated.

Justice and judgment, you weighed every outcome with sacrificial purpose, your hubris played with life like a puppeteer. Akin to a false God, your intellect is supreme as you gaze into the eyes of all lesser beings, all stupid, selfish mortals. You kill with purpose - or so that is what you say. Steadfast decisiveness has always been a part of your resolve. But you chose wrong and one unfortunate predicament led to another. A hollow laugh escapes your mouth, a crazed stare - human or ghost. Dead or alive? You don’t care - you will remake the world into an image of your liking, you will strategize every action and consequence, every perfect moment predicted and utilized. Everything in its place as it should be.

CONNECTIONS

CROOKED HOUND ⌱ I YEARN TO DESTROY SANITY, TO MAKE YOU QUESTION ALL THAT YOU KNOW

It isn’t difficult to hate nobility, especially when you first meet the disposable prince spawned by an incompetent king whose claim only came from his lineage. What did he know of war, famine and anguish in the comforts of a palace made by the bones of people? You refuse to kneel at the feet of a pompous pretty boy and you never do. You believed him a fool until you stood witness to his games. One favored advisor pinned against another, the life of the king’s beloved concubine hanging in jeopardy. It is then that you see through the machinations of court politics and realise that he has set the stage for a perfect murder. You stop him through your own careful manipulations because the woman he intends to kill is your family. He sees you as you see him, and thus begins a challenge of intellect. He who chases will be the first to be caught - you will him to come closer, play against me and I’ll take your heart as a trophy next.

CHILD OF FLAMES ⌱ THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS GODHOOD

Before you became something wholly terrifying, you were a frail, weak child lost in the false hope that you could become the savior to your family. You never would have stood here if it weren’t for the trials and tribulations that dirtied your hands from one loss to another. You remember how you lit candles, said your prayers and welcomed death in your path. Death did not appear but they did. CHILD OF FLAMES once held your life by the throat. You could hear the hymns of the angels singing in hell - how close they held you to the edge. And yet, they promptly spared you from such a fate of the weak. Foul mouth, lips parted, teeth that gleamed like fangs; they spun each word with glee. It was as if they had seen the monster you had become before you shed the lambskin. And they were right, you see yourself standing before the sun. It will take an army to murder this body of one.

DEMON EATER ⌱ ACROSS THE LINE IS A MIRROR, ARE YOU I OR AM I YOU?

A shared experience of war, brutality and death tied the string between your past and theirs. You never forgot how it felt standing across blurred lines. Who was the hero and who was the villain? You never received a true answer when your weapons clashed in perfect duality - a battle that shook in standstill with each clash unwavering, unbreakable. You see how they look at you, the coldness of their gaze and the curl of their lip, the disgust laced between the cracks of their stoic face. They see you as filth and you embrace the perception. You know who you are and you were never made to be a good man. But you are not wholly evil either; rather you have become the evil made to hunt its remnants. Despite their revulsion toward you, they can not deny the shared anguish that both of you suffer. Where you have donned a skin of cruelty, they stand in their apathy. They stoke the flames of your frustration and you challenge them on their existence and their purpose.

QUEEN OF PLAGUE ⌱ THERE IS NOTHING FINER THAN THE PRICE OF A PRINCESS

The princess of an age-old empire - you remember the day you were given the command with the promise of riches, people and assets beyond your wildest imagination. You were never a hunter but your instincts on a battlefield as one of the finest soldiers proved capable of securing her capture. You remember her arrogance and her scorn. Her defiance to follow commands created natural hostility and it wasn’t long before egos began clashing against each other. She loathed you for bringing her home to her cage but you didn’t hold a shred of pity for completing your duty. Despite her violence and your rebuttals, you were able to drag her back to her homeland and return her to her proper place. The lingering look of venom still remains fresh in your memory. Regardless of how such events transpired, you had done all you needed to secure your promised rewards.

CURSED SOLDIER IS OPEN & THEIR SPECIAL STAT IS INTELLIGENCE.

#cursed soldier.#all.#intelligence.#open.

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casspurrjoybell-31 · 5 months

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The Consort - Chapter 21 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Finn

"He was the one who changed him, you know."

Kelly's voice jars me back into a wakeful state.

My eyes pop open and I pull the covers away from my face before craning my neck back to look at him.

"What?"

"Axel. He was the one who changed Brayden into an immortal."

"What? Are you sure?" I whisper after a moment of silence.

"From what he's told me, yes. Very sure."

"But... how? Why?"

Kelly leans forward, staring at me with red eyes so very different from the subtle brown I'm used to.

"Axel was the leader of the Old War. He went by his last name back then, though. Commander Charles."

My eyes widen.

The name rings a bell.

I remember Leo teaching us about the Old War in class.

Most of what he said has been long since forgotten but I do remember him mentioning that a small group of vampires separated themselves from the rest of the vampires during the war, claiming themselves as the true, heroic warriors.

Except there was nothing heroic about them.

They were a small group of immortals who spent their days draining and killing as many humans as they could get their hands on.

And leading this group of ruthless warriors was none other than Commander Charles himself.

He was the most villainous of them all and became our target to take down.

Although we weren't successful, we did manage to destroy most of his followers, a key success which helped us save hundreds of human lives.

In fact, the only other one who made it out alive was Commander Charles' right hand man, a vampire whose name was never recorded and was thereby given the name 'Immortal X.'

"Axel was Commander Charles?" I whisper, making sure I understand it correctly.

Kelly nods.

"Correct. And from what Brayden told me, Axel was spun from the darkest fibers of Hell."

I shake my head, loathing Axel all over again.

"But how does Brayden come into all of this."

Kelly gives me a sad smile.

"Brayden was one of the best Lieutenants of the Old War, at least from what I can tell. Of course, he doesn't remember a thing. But from the textbooks I've read and the pictures I've seen, he was as good as the legends build him up to be. He was a true hero for all mankind."

I try to imagine Brayden as a heroic man, leading troops off to fight for the freedom of beating hearts and emotional minds.

Why do I not remember his name from Leo's lessons?

Surely he was mentioned at some point but then again, perhaps his name was different in the textbooks.

"Brayden was the only one who managed to kill Commander Charles' followers," Kelly explains.

"And while that was a victory for the human side, Brayden gave himself a death sentence by doing so. He became Axel's only target and once he was captured, Axel found the only way he knew to use Man's heroic weapon against them."

My heart thrums wildly in my chest listening to Brayden's past.

It's like a horrific movie playing in my mind, the mortal version of Brayden being hunted down by Axel and thrown into a new, immortal life of hazy uncertainty.

"He must have been terrified," I whisper.

Kelly lets out a humorous laugh.

"No, Finn. He wasn't terrified. He was hungry, which is exactly what Axel wanted."

My immortal version of my best friend pauses, allowing his words to sink in.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, Finn?"

I nod.

Axel said something about Brayden having a past where he drank from tons of humans, to the point that he couldn't help himself.

Now I know why.

"I understand," I whisper faintly.

"He was Immortal X."

"Yes."

Emotions war within me.

Even though Brayden was using me as a pawn in his game, he was doing it to save humanity from the same fate of the past.

That speaks volumes about him... but so does the fact that he used me as bait to accomplish it.

I chew on my bottom lip, squinting up at the ceiling while all the new information catches up with my emotions.

Somewhere in the distance, I hear a door quietly open and close.

I tense in bed and turn towards the door.

Kelly shakes his head and collects his device from the ground.

"That's my cue to leave."

"What? Why?"

He gives me a small smile and maybe it's the light playing tricks on me but I swear there's the same twinkle of kindness in his eyes as there used to be when he was human.

"I need to go feed," Kelly admits.

"I know how to keep myself away from you Finn but it's difficult. Your blood is more powerful than you realize."

I swallow hard and clutch the blankets to my torso.

"W-well then who is coming here next?"

He snorts and opens the door.

"You know the answer to that, too. But maybe it's a good thing. From the sounds of it, you and Bogdan have quite a bit of catching up to do."

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themovieblogonline · 7 months

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Top 10 Most Terrifying Game of Thrones Villains

Clashing through the fantastical worlds of The Seven Kingdoms featuring creatures, kings, and crowns, Game of Thrones is a show that also served us some of the most iconic villains in television history. From Cersei Lannister to Petyr Baellish, Tywin Lannister to Walder Frey, these villains have never disappointed us with their clever political conspiracies, jaw-dropping moments of betrayal, and gut-wrenching barbarities. We brought you a list of the top 10 antagonists who kept everyone on their toes. So, let's dive right in! Tywin Lannister Destroy everything and everyone if it's a threat to your family! That is a rule Tywin Lannister lives by. The cunning lord of Casterly Rock never stood for anything that stopped him from preserving his ancestors' legacy and the Lannister name. Throughout the show, Tywin Lannister conspires toward the fall of his enemies and is always one step ahead of them. Other than projecting his ruthless tactics toward his foes, Tywin Lannister gave a hard time to all his children as well. In the name of 'doing the right thing', he used his children like pawns and used them till the end. He was particularly harsh to his son Tyrion Lannister, the dwarf, belittling him on every occasion. Can't like this guy even if we want to. Walder Frey All villains in Game of Thrones had some devilish desires and strong incentives to play the bad guy. Except for Walter Frey. Blinded by ego and superiority, Walder Frey took away some of the most beloved characters from the audience. He was so disgusted over Robb Stark's marriage with an ordinary woman instead of his daughter that he hosted a bloodbath called 'The Red Wedding' where he brutally killed Robb and his pregnant wife. After witnessing the death of her oldest son and his heir, Catelyn Stark slices open her throat, giving us another reason to hate Walder Frey. Craster One of the most bizarre and unpleasant characters in the show is Craster. He owns a shelter in the North and is introduced when Jon Snow resides in his home with his companions. It instantly goes dark when it's revealed that Craster is an old freak with many daughters, all born from incestuous practices. One of the most shocking revelations about him was that he always kills his sons for unknown reasons. Honestly, it doesn't matter if we knew the reason because he would still be one of the worst characters on the show. The High Sparrow Evil can be born from religion as well. Considering various aspects of the psychological conditions of Game of Thrones villains, The High Sparrow is by far the most interesting one. Imagine feeling bad for someone as vile as Cersei! Yeah, The High Sparrow made us feel that. The manipulation and exploitation of religion in the name of holiness make him a human devil. Allisor Thorne Someone who seemed like an idiotic freak at the beginning of the show later transformed into an unexpected villain. As he teased and tormented most of the Night Watchers, especially Jon Snow, no one really liked Allison from the first day he appeared on screen. However, what blew us all away was his murdering Snow one day and officially becoming worthy of our hatred. Petyr Baelish How far can your smart yet traitorous tricks get you? Ask Petyr Baelish. Also known as "Littlefinger", Baelish is that one character who fans have a love-hate relationship with. From Ned Stark to Sansa Stark, he betrayed and fooled the people around him at every given chance. But even when the fans figured out his poor intentions and foul play, they couldn't stop admiring his way with words. On some level, that makes him one of the most formidable villains in the show. Cersei Lannister Just like Petyr, we remained forever mystified about whether to like Cersei Lannister or loathe her wholeheartedly. Fabricating intelligently orchestrated plans coming from a place of pure darkness, she carried the entire show by being the ultimate villain. She not only betrayed her husband by producing children incestuously but also planned the death of thousands of people at the Great Sept of Baelor. It doesn't take a genius to figure out how the Lannisters have a wicked philosophy of throwing everyone under the bus if it's about self-interest. Joffrey Baratheon Joffrey showing his true colors after his coronation was a plot twist in Game of Thrones that no one saw coming. Right when he ordered Ned Stark, we knew what was lurking under that innocent demeanor Joffrey carries all the time. After the first season, Joffrey established himself as a terrorizing force but as the show progressed, it was no surprise that his reckless decisions made him some great enemies who didn't hesitate to murder him. The Night King Let's talk about that one frightening monster who had no sense of humanity whatsoever. Simply because he wasn't a human. The Night King was born to kill. All that he was capable of was turning everyone into an army of the walking dead. From the first time he made an appearance in the show, he ignited fear in the eyes of the spectators. Ramsay Bolton How can we end this list without talking about the nastiest of them all? Ramsay Bolton, the son of Roose Bolton, took over the North and initiated his series of atrocities upon the Northerners. During the show, he abused many characters including his wife Sansa Stark, and Theon Greyjoy. Emotion is a concept alien to Ramsay and that shows when he ends up killing his entire family to avoid risking his position as the king. That distinguishes him from all the other villains of the show as his motives for attaining power are purely narcissistic and selfish. Overall Thoughts The world of Game of Thrones is full of lots of characters that left lasting impressions. When you think back the show is rich in jaw-dropping moments and heart-pumping excitement. There were characters that were both heroic and villainous, but which one of them was the worst? Don't forget to let us know your thoughts in the comments below! Read the full article

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cloudninetonine · 2 years

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A Player'a Aid: Chapter 4

The Hero of Time wasn't one to fall into fear at the unexplainable anymore.

The man, once child hero, had faced too much horror in such a life that whatever kind of tragedy that could or would be thrust upon him at short notice would only be considered another Tuesday afternoon. He learned to adjust, learned that his life would never be a normal one, not with the triforce burned into the back of his hand, not with the hero’s spirit, not baring the name Link- he would forever be a target for the seemingly impossible and he had accepted that with a heavy heart.

Then you practically fell out of the sky, turning the world he thought he knew upside down and throwing all logic out the window alongside it.

Other worlds. The concept wasn’t new to him, he had heard enough from his companions, he had experienced it for himself but what you were saying sounded like so much more than that. Hyrule never existing, their journeys reduced to nothing but games for entertainment- claims that could be concluded to mere lies or insanity, until you pulled out that damned device and unveiled on them the concept of true fear.

Were…were they seriously just pawns in a story that really held no weight? Did every struggle, hardship, traumatic experience they ever live just act as amusement for a bigger audience? Traveller had mentioned earlier that the times they had journeyed to had warped their stories into what they saw fit and while it was hard to see how they saw their defeat of Ganon become that, it wasn’t as bad as the idea that they were literal puppets being pulled on literal strings. These interpretations from other Hylians were merely incorrect tellings, the group knew the truth but to you, they really were nothing more than characters in a game to play as you saw fit.

They weren’t real to you, were they?

They were just as impossible as you were to them and he could admit (to himself alone) that it terrified him. Infuriated him. Saddened him. Made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The Hero of Time wanted answers that he might not have been able to get.

But by the Goddesses was he gonna try.

“Enough!” He called into the room, the Vet and Captain falling silent from their squabble to stare at the older hero, standing tall amongst the rest of the other heroes within the Wild Hero’s home. The others turned to his attention also, all baking in different degrees of an existential crisis that had him hesitating with his demands but no, this wasn’t time to panic “Shouting will get us to nothing, if we want an explanation then I propose we do something about the device in their possession”

Silence hung between them all when the Cook stood, his hood pulled over his head to shield his face from the rest of his allies. The eldest hero knew he was struggling, could feel it from where he stood, the young man was worse off compared to the others and himself, after all, hearing it was one thing but seeing it was on another level. “Purah’s lab is on the top of the hill, she’s highly trained in alchemy and it is probably our best option at the moment”

Rach-hand laid a hand on his shoulder “Are you sure you’re good-”

And it was shrugged off just as quickly it had appeared “That doesn’t matter right now”

“Champion-” The Knight of Skyloft was dissuaded by the icy look the other sent.

“We won't be able to continue without any answers. It would look odd if I wasn’t there with Purah and I don’t think explaining this to her is an option here- It won’t end well” Glancing around the room, his face hardened “Unless any of you have a different suggestion, then let us go. Put your pity away”

Faces were turned away and the Hero of Time sighed. “Champion is right- she seems to be our only real option at this time. So, the rest of you shall stay here, continue with our earlier plans about possible travel while I, along with the Cook and our…guest will see what can be done”

“I’m coming too” The rancher stood straighter, eyes steeled, challenging the Hero of Time to disagree.

The Old Man was simply too tired to fight him “Fine”

It was a sight to see when they stepped out of the house, the Traveler and their guest with arms wrapped around one another in a tight embrace, laughing with mirth in their voices. The sudden contrast of atmosphere had the three men pausing, eyes glued to the scene with a morbid fascination.

“...When did the Traveler leave?” The Twilight Hero questioned to them, “And how did they-”

It wasn’t a secret that the resident traveller wasn’t too fond of strangers. Well, none of them were, but with the life the young man had lived it was safe to say that The Hero of Hyrule was one of the warier of people, it was something he needed to learn to keep himself alive so to see him act so carefree, especially after such an ordeal.

“Later” The older hero answered, crossing his arms “We deal with this first, then we speak with Traveller privately”

The others nodded and his successor made his way over to the two.

“....Do you think the Veteran is right?” They watched as the three conversed, too far to hear their conversation “That they’re just some sort of dark witch working with the shadow?”

The Hero of Time contemplated the other hero’s words in silence.

If anything, the man had no direct answer. When they first discovered you, the shadow held an intent within its soulless eyes that felt way too real for it to be some sort of trick. When he hoisted your unconscious body into his arms, you looked too small, too fragile to be something he should fear or feel cautious of. Even when you were showing them, what he could only consider, that dark sorcery he still couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything remotely negative about you. Any use of magic he would have sensed, he’d lived long enough to be able to sniff out the arcane in any setting so it couldn’t possibly be the case.

But that scene earlier, wasn’t something he could let off so easily, something that he could simply brush aside.

Their forms grew as they made haste towards them, Ranch-hand leading the charge with the Traveler and their guest.

“....Because I don’t” The Hero of Time spared a glance to the Hero of the Wild, noting his gaze such to them “No matter how hard I think about it, I just can’t see it. My mind refuses to see through reason and I’m scared that it could be my downfall”

“....Me too”

They made their way to the lab in silence.

-----

The Old Man had come to realise that you liked jokes or, at least, liked to have people smiling. He could tell that the complete silence had gotten to you, nervously shuffling behind them like a frightened lamb or shrinking yourself down when one of them had called over to you when you had wandered off again to appreciate the beautiful view that the Cook’s Hyrule had to offer. So, once making it to the top of the steep mountain, your comedy came into play- dramatically collapsing into a heap just a few steps away from the doors to Purah’s lab.

“By the fucking stars” You bemoaned, rolling onto your back after a concerned call for your attention by the Twilight hero “Lord have mercy, I’ve reached the end of my life, boys”

He couldn’t help it really, he just couldn’t, a small snort fell from his mouth that had both of his companions looking over in complete surprise. The older hero wasn’t usually one to slip up, keeping a stoic visage in front of others (a mask really) as a way to deter those who may cause harm but also as a way to keep the other boys in line, they were heroes after all and they needed to keep their attention strong. (Not to say they couldn’t relax, they could, they deserved to but they also needed to stay vigilant- him included)

The Hero of Time’s small slip up was encouragement enough to keep you going “Pray for me lads, St Mary’s calling my name and she’s still mad about those missed calls”

He continued forward, pushing open the doors to the lab once Twilight had helped you to your feet.

“Odd one, aren’t they?” His successor commented, making his way to the Time Hero’s side “Excusing what happened earlier- They don’t seem too bad”

Purah’s voice interjected before anything else could be said.

“Why, yes, hello! If it isn’t a sight to see the previous heroes stumble into my workshop!”

One of the first things that the Wild Hero had done once they had stumbled into his Hyrule was to show the group around to…whatever was left. Heartbreaking, the great kingdom that Hyrule was before had vanished before their very eyes, left only to ruin by the power of Ganondorf’s foul play and hatred for all things good. The villages that they all shared stood strong, Kakariko Village, Hateno Village, Goron City, Gerudo Town, Zora Domain and Rito Village- the people were undoubtedly filled with determination to keep living and that, in the end, was all that mattered. (However Wild could see the sadness in their eyes at their almost desolate homeland, he couldn’t bear to see such things, it only added onto the dark cloud weighing over his head about his first “failure” and he made it his mission to show them all it’s wasn’t gone just…just smaller)

Purah hadn’t been the first person they had met (Those spots being given to Princess Zelda and Impa) but she did in fact hold some impact over the group (“Impa has a sister!? And she’s older!? She looks like a child!”) She gave them much needed maps of the country, offered to upgrade any gear, give away any information they needed- hell, offered to share some Sheikah secrets in trade of stories from their travels (“The history books are rubbish!” She cried, hands turned into fists like a child in a tantrum “You guys are the real deal! You’re sure to give me all the juicy details! So, let’s trade!”)

Her assistant was quick to put a stop to that.

Purah was most certainly someone they could trust to help.

But dropping such a weight topic onto her head wouldn’t be such a good idea.

“Ms Purah, we apologise for your intruding but we need your help”

“Anything for the Heroes of Hyrule! What are you in need of? Some research papers? More maps? Has the Sheikah slate received anything from your journey?”

“No” You had followed in with the Wild Hero by your side only a few short moments before, shrunk down once again when all eyes fell to you as the man gestured for you to step forward. Once again, hesitant measures were taken by you, head lowered and shoulders up in guard as you made your way towards the front of your small group to reveal yourself to the alchemist. It was a little pressing how you acted so…afraid around him but he didn’t think he had any right to ask and intrude on possible personal problems. “A guest of ours has….found this device that we’re hoping you could take a look at?”

Her eyes turned to you “Of course! Could I see this device?”

You tore off your bag from your shoulders, digging into its contents to pull out the smaller bag that contained the device that you had shown them earlier. With the thing in your hand, you went to hand it over only to hesitate, holding it protectively with your gaze falling to the floor, mind wandering.

He could see the confliction on your face: biting lip, darting eyes, the tightened hands- something held meaning to the small instrument and he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of sympathy roll over him in tiny waves. However, his curiosity outweighed his empathy and he went to speak.

Only for the alchemist to lean forward, hand gently grasping your shoulder and sending you a smile as sweet as can be “I promise to be gentle”

…You stepped away once you had pressed it into her hands, face tight before disappearing away to the other side of the room to ask Symin if you could read any of the books that lay around the room.

“Link- I mean, Hero of the Wild, if you could please, there’s a screwdriver in the drawer of my desk,- yes that one- thank you. Hmm, I don’t sense any magic….” She grinned, toying with the screws to undo the device’s shell “I hope this is as interesting, I’ve been itching for something better than this old Sheikah tech for ages”

They were quick to crowd her, eyes wide and practically bulging as she released the last of the screws and pulled off its case, a whole lot of….

He had no idea what he was looking at.

“By the Goddess, look at these components!” Purah cried, pulling down her goggles from her hair to zoom into the display with a smile that could tear her face in two “I’ve never seen such work before! It looks so complex for such a small thing! Hold on, I’ve got to draw this out!”

Her hand slammed against the table in search of her journal just a few paces away, The Twilight Hero grabbing it and handing it over to her to watch the small alchemist practically rip a pencil from behind her ear and begin a rough sketch of what she saw before her, muttering quietly to herself.

“So, do you think you’ll be able to do anything with it?” Wild had turned away, his eyes focused on something else to the older hero’s confusion but he just brushed it off, his attention centred on the woman “Get any information from it?”

“I’ll have to see, this device is so much different from what I've worked with before- these components don’t even look to be of this world! Plus it doesn’t seem to run on magic-”

A sound reached his ears. Well, all their ears it seemed, as they all at once turned to the source, seeing you standing on the platform that held the Sheikah's Runes. The hanging stone was glowing, the crest pulsing with power that was gathering just above where you stood, turned away from them with eyes focused on the visual.

"(Name)?" The Wild Hero called and the Old Man felt a fog cast over his mind, eyes screwing shut while his fingers rubbed the bridge of his nose. Within his brain, a spark echoed out, the light only faintly illuminating a piece of forgotten memories pushed aside with the darkest of corners before just as quickly disappearing, falling back into darkness and his focus returning back to the scene at hand.

A droplet fell from the hanging Rune, falling directly onto the hand pressed against the face of the stone stand sat under.

Silence hung in the room and you turned.

Then you screamed.

It was the most horrid thing he had ever heard. Blood-curdling was too light of a word to use to describe it, no, there wasn't any word that could possibly come to mind that he could had used to describe exactly what he heard. All he knew was that it brought forth of a wave of nausea, his earlier breakfast fighting its way up his throat to burst through his mouth.

You stumbled, hands flying at your head as you clawed at your temple, hard enough, it seemed, for blood to begin to form at the scratches your nails left, blooming red before darkening as the liquid ran down your digits. Tears had also gathered into your eyes, running down your cheeks as you sobbed, wailed, screeched- in a mysterious pain.

“O-Oh Goddesses-” Purah cried, hands going to cover her mouth.

The Wild Hero was first to react, racing towards you and catching your figure, calling in panic for your attention only for it to be left with nothing. Ranch-Hand was next, ordering his successor in a panic to lay you down, pulling away your hands to stop yourself from inflicting any more damage within your hysteria only for you to begin convulsing on the floor, head slamming back onto the floorboards. The Old Man finally reacted, kneeling down to place your head on your lap,

“Purah, what’s happening!?”

“I don’t know, no one should react like this-” The woman had leapt off her chair, Symin by her side as they dashed over “This isn’t normal!”

The Twilight Hero and Hero of Time met eyes.

Was this because you weren’t normal? From another world, another lifetime, while you were human you weren’t a human of this world so did magic affect you differently?

“Make-” You croaked, back arching with a whine of pain as you struggled to make out the words. “Please-”

The eldest hero watched in horrified awe as you inhaled the biggest breath you could through all your rugged gasps, a final wounded cry passing by your broken lips when you yelled “Make it fucking stop!”

You finally collapsed, eyes falling shut.

There was a stillness that gathered over them as they stared at your body, motionless on the cold floor with not even your breathing to be heard.

“Are they-”

The Hero of Time leaned over, his ear hovering over your mouth. A second passed when his ear twitched, the feeling of air gently hitting his lobe with a shaky, rattled wheeze that made him snap back upwards, face passive to keep the facade of composure despite the fact his heart was raging within the confines of his chest. “They’re breathing but it’s shallow”

Blood dripped down his hands and he was reminded of the lesions on your temples.

“Symin, get the bandages” Purah ordered, the assistant jumping to his feet to dash towards his side of the room. The older alchemist motioned for them to listen, pointing towards your body “Move them onto their side, make sure their left arm is spread out and pull over their right arm across their body. Pull their head back so their airway isn’t in any way obstructed and rest their cheek against their right hand. I then want you to pull their right leg up until it’s bent to make sure they stay in that position”

Stat. They were all quick to react.

Symin had returned a second later after rummaging about, replacing the spot the Old Man had to wrap your head. The eldest hero watched while the other two heroes followed Purah’s orders, his eyes falling to his bloody hands.

He didn’t understand. When they had come to your aid, chasing off The Shadow, the Traveller had leaned over you with his own healing magic dancing at his fingertips in the event that the creature could have harmed you, it being too dark to see over you completely and not wanting to invade your privacy to strip you or feel you to check for any injuries. Nothing had come about it that moment, the only change when the Hero of Hyrule healed you was your face relaxing from the one of discomfort, a sigh falling from your lips.

So, it couldn’t possibly be that magic affected you differently, could it? Was there some other hidden factor that they needed to consider? And if so, what could that possibly be if it was left to the unknown.

“Wait- look”

Attention brought back by the sound of his successor’s voice, the Hero of Time once again kneeled, leaning over when the back of your palm was presented for all to see.

The Sheikah crest looked to be burnt into your skin, swollen with dark bruising along its outline, followed by fluorescent blue light running through your views, disappearing under the cuff of your shirt. The rancher lightly traced the lines, your fingers twitching before falling back to rest.

“....We’ll focus on that later” Purah uttered after a moment “Their wellbeing is more important”

“Agreed” The Old Man turned towards the Wild Hero, meeting the younger man’s eyes “Your slate allows you to travel, correct? It will be best if you get the Traveller- quickly”

With a nod of understanding, his device was pulled from his waist and accompanied by a frantic tapping, the familiar sound of Sheikah magic humming through the air as the same blue light gathered from the tips of his toes to the ends of his hair, the Champion disappearing with a quiet thrum.

So many questions but not enough answers, it seemed.

-----

The next time you awoke, you were back in the bed you had found yourself that morning, however, the bright sun from the day had fallen into the sun of dusk, orange light melting onto the bland sheets of Wild’s bed and making you groan in exhaustion, the thought of night approaching edging you back towards sleep that you still felt clung desperately to your bones.

“Hey, you’re finally awake”

A snort made its way past your lips, a familiar scene playing through your head but you shook the thought off, turning your head to face the direction of the voice. The Traveller, your Hero of Hyrule stood at the bottom of the bed holding a shot glass and glass flask, the bottle holding a daunting red liquid that sloshed about as he made his way closer to your side.

“Hyrule” Your voice was excited despite the obvious weakness to it, Hyrule dragging a chair from the desk nearby to seat himself by your side, the items he was holding in his hands disappearing out of your peripheral to (you guessed) the bedside table “How’s it going? You doing good?”

The man smiled “I think I should be asking you that”

“Why? Did something happen? Did I pass out again? Oh God, who keeps putting me in this bed”

The smile was quick to vanish, an expression of concern being a quick replacement as he brushed some hair away from your face. “You don’t remember? Not a thing?”

Remember? You paused, trying to find the memories within your head. There was the travel to the tech lab atop the hill, the banter you had played upon arrival at your destination, the talk with Wild, handing your switch to Purah and exploring the place. Although something at the back of your brain told you more, whispered about the memory stationed on the opposite side of the room, just out of view and glowing a fluorescent blue with accents of gold-

“Nope” Popping the ‘p’, you raised a brow “Should I?”

You should have been worried. You could guess that from his expression, from the way he stumbled over his words, trying to find the right way to explain to you what a serious situation you were facing, but in all honesty, you were too tired to even care. Your eyes were so close to fluttering shut, your body felt heavy- you were too far gone to properly compute what was happening.

Not to mention the concept of missing memories wasn’t new to you, there was a large chunk of your life forgotten within the void of your subconscious that you didn’t care enough to dig deep and retrieve, there was probably a good reason for it anyway. You’d rather live within the realms of blissful ignorance than relive potential damaging echoes that were buried to keep yourself sane.

Though, you did wonder what sort of event could have happened that ended with you losing the last few hours, so you listened to the Hyrule with all the attention you could muster.

“I don’t know the whole details” He started, “But there were some runes within the lab, Sheikah magic runes that you touched-”

You cringed, already having a feeling where he was heading.

“-and it somehow activated the runes? No one knows how you did it, as they are only meant to react to the presence of the Sheikah slate but we have been bouncing around ideas, the only believable one being because you are not of this world. Anyhow, the magic from the runes caused a violent reaction and you ended up passing out.” His eyes were sympathetic, holding fret for your person that made your heart clench gratefully, but being yourself, you couldn’t handle the look, arm going to cover your eyes with a groan to hide it away from your sight.

“A violent reaction? How violent exactly?”

“There were wounds from your temple from how hard you were scratching at it and a lot of blood”

You scowled “Oh my God- that’s so embarrassing”

“...You’re embarrassed? For reacting to what I was told looked like indescribable torture?”

“Yeah because I was probably flailing around and screaming like some mad person” You whined, slamming your hands onto the covers in a ‘What?’ gesture “Not to mention I did that in front of…five people! It’s like getting hit by a car but not getting hurt so you’re just laying on the ground thinking ‘What do I do, do I get up? Do I stay here? God, they should have just killed me this is so embarassing’ like how am I meant to react to this information now? How am I gonna look the others in the eye? I’m already weird enough to them-”

You continued to ramble, within a mind of your own at that point until through your expressive hand gestures you noticed the back of your hand, straightening it out to gawk at the crest of the Sheikah, its eye almost staring you down from its spot on your skin, the tear breaking out into small, glowing blue lines that branched up your arm. Pulling your arm from the shirt, you traced the lines, which you had guessed were actually your veins until you were unable to see them, fingers resting on your shoulder.

There was a sound then a mirror was presented to you. “Here”

You looked at yourself in the mirror and gaped.

The lines crept up your neck, crawling up your cheek until finally disappearing into your eye socket. Your iris still bore the colour you were born with, however, the sclera adorned the same beautiful sky blue that glowed within the darkening room, your pupil gleamed with a lighter, more welcoming tone, the arctic blue circle darting around your eye as you studied yourself as deeply as you could.

“(Name)-”

“Sans Undertale….”

Hyrule blinked, a confused but amused smile growing “What”

“I am Sans. Undertale.” Gently snatching the mirror from his hands, you brought it closer to your face and burst into a mantra of giggles, staring at your eye with a giddy interest that wasn’t seeming to wane “Look at me go, you funky little person you-”

You met Hyrule’s eyes, the both of you sharing a look then bursting into more giggles, his hand coming to hold over his mouth while you didn’t even bother to hide your glee, snorting and chortling aloud. “Why are you laughing?”

“I don’t know! Why are you laughing?”

“I’m not sure-” You both laughed for a few more moments before falling into a comfortable silence, soft smiles on both your faces before Hyrule turned towards the bedside table, grabbing the flask of red liquid along with the shot glass, pouring the substance into the small glass “You know, when I was hurt I remember you always fretting about me and panicking”

Yes, you weren’t really the quietest of gamers. You liked to express yourself when it came to your player or the protagonist of the game you were occupying yourself with at that moment. Ranging from small ‘ow’ falling from your lips at imaginary pain when your character would do something that you deemed pain worthy to screaming your head off in panic when you were getting bombarded by enemies that you couldn’t seem to shake off, vague memories of the following words “Go, GoGoGOGOGOGO-” or “I AM SO SORRY (Blank)” bouncing off the walls of mind like the Window’s screen saver. You expressed yourself like you were the person you played or you were someone who cared about them, so hearing such a thing from the protagonist himself wasn’t a surprise.

But you still pondered about how your frantic narrating of your own actions translated into a very present entity within Hyrule’s life.

Maybe it was indeed magic that played a part in that.

Handing you the glass, his voice took a tone that hinted at a genial affection “And now that you’re in this position, it’s nice knowing that I can be there when you were there for me”

Magic or not, it still hurt that you couldn’t fully appreciate those words.

He saw you as an old friend, you saw him as a piece of nostalgia from a relic that you had been lucky enough to grab during a gaming convention.

You weren’t gonna let it stay that way though.

You were gonna be the friend that he relied on before, no matter what it took.

You downed the liquid in one shot.

…

Then gagged “Augh- That is disgusting- is this a red potion!?”

“Yup, they tend to not go down well”

“Down well-” You choked, hanging out your tongue to pat at it like some frantic animal “It’s on my tongue, it’s on my fucking tongue-”

For the second time that day, a cough interrupted the two of you. Hyrule turned in his chair while you stared down the form of Pink Streaks with your tongue still very much in your hands, not even reacting at the look of revolution coupled with confusion as you continued your actions, trying desperately to rid the tang from your poor tastebuds.

He stepped closer hesitantly to your complete understanding, marching his way up to your side addressing the both of you as he opened his mouth “Food, the Champion asked me to bring it up”

Despite his obvious distaste for you, he lowered the bowl of, what looked like, stew gently into your hands, his scowl prominent then turned his whole body to face his successor, back towards you and completely out of sight. You chirped out a ‘thank you!’ but he didn’t react past as glance back at you.

Damn, he did not like you did he.

“Come down and eat, Traveller, we need to discuss more about our plans”

Pink Streaks- okay this was getting ridiculous “Hey, Pinkie, what’s your name?”

The man stiffened, turning comically slow to glare down at your form your spot on the bed while Hyrule once again covered his mouth, small breathless chuckles escaping his lips while you didn’t even bother to hide your mocking smile, beaming up at him while his face grew hot in irritation. “What?”

“Your name, Pink boy, what is it?” You tilted your head innocently “Nice hair by the way, really suits you”

Oh, you were digging deep, digging your grave but you just couldn’t help it. The way he flustered up was just too perfect, eyes glazing over with a fiery blaze of barely contained aggravation that reminded you too much of your own friends back home when you made a joke you were too comfortable to make that usually ended with you being called along the lines of ‘You stupid whore’ or being flipped off. This wasn’t going to help you in any way, no, it was probably causing an even bigger rip in the tear that was his scepticism about you but you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to bully him.

He was just standing there, you had to do it to him.

Pink Streaks released a sharp breath “The Hero of Legend, or the Veteran”

“Hoarder isn’t too much of a longshot either” Hyrule muttered aloud and you heaved out a laugh, careful not to drop your stew all over your front while Legend glared down at the hero, his eyes reflecting a betrayal so foul it almost had you dying.

“Hurry downstairs, Traveller” He grunted out finally, “Now”

Smiling, Hyrule nodded his head and promised to return later once they had finished. Legend stayed behind, watching the man jog down the stairs while you swirled your stew with the spoon sat within the bowl, stomach rumbling hungrily at the tantalising smell before scooping some up and bringing to close to your mouth-

“Let me make myself clear”

“Oh-kay, we’re doing this now” You glanced over to the glaring hero, your face pleading “Can this maybe wait-”

“No”

“Alrighty then”

“I don’t trust you a single bit, the others don’t know what to think about you but I’ve done this hero life longer than them, I know that you can’t be trusted Full Stop. I don’t know if you’re working with The Shadow, or you’re simply after everyone here for being a hero, hell, maybe you’re some old follower of Ganon out for revenge, but I’m gonna break this little facade you have going and I’ll stop whatever dark magic you’re using on that artifact”

He leaned closer, towering over you in the bed and you felt anxiety creep up your spine at the look in his eyes: caution, anger, hatred swirling in those beautiful pools of blue that made you shrink back submissively.

“Not to mention your very sudden closeness with the Traveller. I don’t know what you did but I know that it’s something, he never trusts a stranger but suddenly you’re both goody-goody? I don’t buy it and I’m not gonna let it keep happening”

Between a rock and a hard place it seemed, the grave that you were digging was already a gaping tomb, burrowed down deep within the crust of the earth holding the doors open and awaiting your promised arrival.

“Got anything to say?”

After a moment, you gulped “I…I meant what I said, about your hair? Pink does suit you- no sarcasm included”

Legend sneered, searching your face for just a few moments more. A few seconds passed when his eyes seemed to shrink however he snapped upright, turning away from you with a huff before you could study his gaze even more, then stormed his way back down the stairs where everyone else was conversing, their voices muffled by your pounding heart.

…It was gonna take a lot to get on his good side, a whole lot that you hoped you could shoulder because there was definite baggage in that threat and you knew that a majority of it was placed in a familiar journey with an Island named Koholint.

You took a nervous bite from your food.

“Ah- hot!”

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #lu #player au #a player's aid #linked universe imagine

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fleursdemeduse · 3 years

Text

Remembrance AU: Lost in the Façade

Double post tonight and back on track.

Warnings: Death ; Suicidal attempt and ideation ; Unrequited[?] Love

Words: 3.8k

Getting caught up in the affairs of the gods wasn’t something you were ever hoping to do.

You remember being absolutely terrified when you saw the wooden pillar and a familiar blond sitting at the top. Remember cursing Tubbo once more at the exile of his best friend. Remembered how much you had thought it would be a mistake. Remembered trying your hardest to not make this possibility a reality.

It hadn't been easy to sneak around Dream's back to visit your little brother. It hadn't been any easier to convince Tommy to let you do so either. He was still upset at you, but you could never be mad at him for it. He was right. Siblings don't keep things from each other.

That's why, after knowing what Dream would do to him, it hurt more that he wouldn't tell you.

Dream was standing a bit to the side, laughing, despite the forlorn look on Tommy's face. The urge to kill him again flared in your stomach and you pushed it down. Tommy needed you more than you needed the green man's death.

You nearly flew to the two, hardly feeling your feet touch the ground when your heart was beating as hard as it was.

"Tommy? Tommy, what are you doing up there?" You barely heard his sigh, but he shrugged in response and you spun on Dream. The cool night air bit your cheeks, but your blood was colder. "What is he doing? Why are you just laughing?"

Dream crossed his arms in front of himself. "Oh please, [y/n]. You don't actually think he's gonna jump, do you? He's on one life left. He wouldn't."

You didn't hold the same optimism Dream did. You turned back to your brother, sitting atop the tower before you.

"Tommy? Tommy, please come down. You're scaring me!"

"What's the point, [y/n]?"

"The point is you need to be safe. It’s going to be okay, Tommy. I promise, just come down and-”

“You’re right, it is going to be okay.” He had always wondered what it was like to have wings. He remembered some things of previous lives when he had them, but he never remembered flying. Was this how it felt? The breeze brushing it’s icy fingers through his hair, trying to coax him to fall. Was this how you felt every time you were about to die?

“Tommy!” He looked back down at you, scooting closer to the edge. You looked so small. He felt smaller. It was so hard to focus with all of the thoughts drifting through his mind. No one had come to his party, his interaction with Drista was… lackluster at best. No one cared. He wasn’t in a position of power anymore, who could blame them. You, Ghostbur, and Dream probably only cared out of obligation. He could feel the mist from the sea on his face.

“Tommy, all of us," you shot a glare at Dream, but the man stood there, unphased, "most of us love you, Tommy. We'd be heartbroken if you were gone."

"Then why has no one else visited?" Your heart felt heavy in your chest and your words died on your lips. You didn’t have an answer for the blond. You could only look up at him with eyes that slowly became more glassy the longer he sat up there.

There were flashes in his mind. Ones of him finding Tubbo in another life. The time when he was a vigilante and they had lived together, the other continuously throwing him out of windows. The one where they had become fast friends during an apocalypse. The life where they had raced together and he had fallen down a cliff side.

Tubbo wasn't here for him this time.

The feeling of the breeze brushing through his hair made his back ache, longing for the lives where he had wings. He wondered if dying this time would be like when he and Wilbur were princes. He had awoken in an orchard that was so bright, so warm, he almost longed for the battlefield again. He couldn't remember the name of it now. Blue something? He remembered the morning glories that decorated it and the apple trees that littered the orchard he had awoken in. He remembered how sweet the fruits had been. Like gapples, but with the faint taste of honey. A small part of him hoped he would return there and wait for Phil once more until the next lifetime.

Another gust of wind blew past him and Tommy was shaken from his thoughts, only to hear the two conflicting voices below him.

"I know you just want attention, give it up, Tommy. This is why you don’t scheme."

"Tommy, please come down. It's not worth it. Do not listen to Dream!"

"C'mon, just jump. I know you won't."

"You're worth more than just jumping, Tommy."

"You wanted me here, Tommy. I'm your only friend now."

"You are not his friend, Dream. You're manipulating him."

"I am just telling him what he needs to hear."

Tommy's breath hitched when you shoved the masked man before you. You didn't pvp. What were you doing?

"You are trying to use him. He is not a pawn you can just play with, Dream!"

"Oh, as if you are any better." Tommy watched Dream shove you back. "None of us know who you are, [y/n]. How do we know you're not just a pawn being used yourself against all of us? How do we know you're our friend? We all remember each other. You're a new player in a game where you don't belong."

He stood above you now, porcelain mask lifeless as he started to summon his own sword. "Let's see how many lives you actually have."

Tommy noted how scared you looked, staring back at Dream, but was shocked when you just looked up at him. "Tommy, please. You need to get down. And you need to run."

Dream's sword was in hand. "Tommy, you need to find somewhere safe. Anywhere safe. Please."

An uncomfortable feeling bubbled in his chest at your words. Like you knew what would happen next. Like you knew better and were telling him the future. How could you know when you wouldn’t tell him anything?

"Tommy, you need to be safe. It's going to be okay."

The sun rose and when the light hit you, casting you in a golden glow, he believed you.

Even as Dream ran you through with his sword, he believed you. His chest flickered with long gone pain as he watched the metal disappear into your heart.

So he jumped, water bucket ready.

He landed feet away and began running as fast as he could through the underbrush. His brain was just screaming at him to go back for you. But he knew you wouldn't be there. You'd wake up in your bed here in a few seconds like every other time they had watched you die, and Dream would have him again.

He needed to find Technoblade.

When you returned to where Logstedshire once stood, you relaxed when you saw Dream still there and Tommy gone. Water pooled next to the pole and you knew he had listened to you. The man turned back onto you and you glared back. “You’ve made your last mistake, Dream.”

He didn’t pursue you when you turned back to L’Manburg.

Gods didn’t need to hunt for anything more than fun or revenge.

"He's done it again, Phil!" You nearly screeched through clenched teeth as you slammed the heavy door that led into the angel of death’s house. The immortal barely spared you a glance and continued writing in a small leather bound journal on his desk. Each stroke of the small quill made another perfectly crafted letter, absorbing his interest.

"Take a seat, mate." Phil's voice was bewitching and you immediately perched on one of the warm seats near the fire, sucking in a quivering breath. You took a moment to glance around the familiar home to maybe calm yourself, your sudden need of keeping your composure an agonizing task.

Phil was there when you had awoken on the floor of his home after speaking with Kristin, brimming with knowledge you shouldn’t have known. The man had been alive the longest. Not quite dying, always just flitting between lifetimes on the black wings of his. He had confirmed everything when you had spoken to him about your new memories, comforting you in that special way only a dad could.

Now, as you sat in the comfortable armchair, you could see evidence of every timeline he had lived through and could pinpoint each one. A green plastic bottle, a pair of fuzzy dice, a painting of an unknown woman. She didn’t look like Kristin. There were large wooden bookcases that climbed up the walls filled with great quantities of journals. How many stories did he have to tell? The fire glowing in the hearth set off a gentle glow accompanied by a warmth that made the home all the more pleasing to be in. A small carved board held a thin, dipped stick that burned on the end, causing a delightful scent of vanilla to waft around the room. You sunk into the soft piece of furniture, forcing yourself to relax just a little.

Phil watched you from the corner of his eye. He had seen you stalk across the snowy field and to his front door. You didn’t look happy, but he didn’t expect you to be. There was plenty happening on the server at all times between the same members that were at the heart of it time and time again.

He finished his thought, setting the quill aside and recapping his ink. He’d have to go collect more soon, he was running low. Leaving the page to dry, he walked to the kitchen. His wings rustled gently as they brushed past various objects. You watched him, crossing your arms. “Phil?”

“Yes, mate?” His voice was warm and just as sweet as the vanilla in the air. Fatherly.

“Does it…” You pressed your lips together, trying to properly word the sentence. “Does me being around bother you?”

Phil’s hands paused as he went to feed the furnace to warm a kettle of water. “Why would you ask something like that?”

You shrugged, leaning further into the chair. You weren’t sure if you were trying to hide from your own thoughts or if you were trying to hide from him. “Dream just-”

“Now why would you listen to him? Do you honestly care what he thinks?” You wet your lips, thinking about it.

“Kinda? I care what everyone here thinks.” There was a soft shifting as you heard Phil lean back against the counter. “Some more than others. But I do care.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Keeps you in check from doing somethin’ really wrong.” You hummed in response. “What did he say?”

“He said I don’t belong here.” You heard a scoff.

“Well, we both know that that’s not true.” You thought of Tommy up on the final remains of the territory he had been so proud of. Had he actually gotten away? You thought of Techno, now exiled in the tundra far away from where you sat now. What would he think of your choices? You thought of Wilbur -now Ghostbur- and how, despite you yelling at him being the last thing he heard, he still somehow seemed to love you. Why did he still try so hard when all you seemed to do was help with the aftermath?

A hot mug was pressed into your hands and you looked up at the only one who knew your secret.

“It’s chamomile tea. It’ll help.” You nodded at him, sipping carefully at the beverage. “Tell me everything that happened.”

So you recounted everything that had happened that night until your entrance bright and early in the blond man’s house, including your threat.

“DreamXD’s probably not going to like that you threatened Dream.”

You could only shrug.

“What does it matter? It’s not like killing me will do anything.”

“He’s a god, [y/n]. They have their ways.” You sighed. They were definitely fickle folk. Kristin had been kind enough when you saw her, despite the near-constant migraine you were trying to slowly adapt to, and your few meetings with Drista hadn’t been horrible. But you had never crossed paths with the powerful creation god. If he were anything like Dream himself, you would hate what your first encounter would be like.

“When Drista killed me, it was the same as usual, so I’m not worried. I just can’t believe I didn’t see the signs of Tommy’s spiral.”

“When she killed you?” You nodded once more. He didn’t ask anymore questions, and you didn’t supply him with any more answers.

You didn’t fear other gods after your experiences with the first two you had already been bad. They were not bad enough to deter you.

You had first met Drista when she and Tommy were finishing building the Intimidation Tower. It was an ugly thing, made out of cobblestone, and you knew that Wilbur hated that it gave away the location of the ravine, but it made Tommy happy. It made Drista happy. So you convinced Wilbur to just let it be. It made it easier for Tommy to come home when he was lost, anyways.

She had come around a lot more after that. Always attached at the hip to Tommy, always displaying godlike power, always causing mischief. She was decently polite to you, despite being younger than Tommy with a snarky attitude. But they were a good pair to watch. She always seemed to have fun with the blond, especially when he messed up. And despite how upset he seemed to be in the moment, he was always cheerful when he told you about the things he had done with her as you attached plasters to his cuts and salve to his bruises.

So why did you find her atop the intimidation tower without him?

You climbed your way up, sitting down next to her. “Hey.”

She turned her head to look at you, the familiar mask hiding her expression. “What do you want?”

“Kinda wanna know what you’re doing up here by yourself. Tommy’s asleep right now.” You watched her pull a leg up onto the ledge and hug it.

“I’m just thinking. It’s different being around you all than my brothers.”

“Brothers?” She only nodded her head. “I know about Dream, who else is your brother?”

There was a slight shake in her hand as she moved her hair back. “You’ve already met him. It’s DreamXD.”

You snickered. “DreamXD is your brother?”

“Well, yeah, why else do you think I have access to creative mode?” You hummed, looking back out at the rest of the world and away from her. You hadn’t really questioned it. You didn’t really question a lot of things about the semantics of this world. None of it ever made sense.

“Then what happened to Dream?”

“Oh, he was made, not born.” You nodded.

There was a beat, then two. It sunk in.

“Excuse me?” You heard a laugh ring from her lips.

“Why do you think we call him “Clay” sometimes? Why he doesn’t have powers? Why he shifts from life to life like the rest of them?” You took silent notice of the way she said “them” and not “you”. “He’s a creation with just as much of a soul as the rest of the players.”

You chewed on the thought. Did that make her a god as well? You didn’t ask.

“Then what were you thinking about?”

“How fragile you all are.” Your breath caught as you suddenly felt the air rush around you. You couldn’t even scream before you hit the ground, hard. The pain only lasted a moment before a yelp was heard under you and you scrambled off the bed.

Tommy was looking at you with large eyes and you muttered a small “sorry”.

He didn’t even nod at you, just shifted further back against the wall. You could never chastise someone just looking for comfort. “Y’know, it’s a little inconvenient to have you take up my whole bed while I’m out, Toms.”

“What the hell, [y/n]? I didn’t even hear you come in!”

“What were you doing in my bed? I thought I saw you lay down in your own.” You took in the dark bags under his eyes and his messy hair. He didn’t answer you, just looked away with a type of melancholy you knew you’d never hope to match. “The nightmares again, huh?”

He huffed at you, lips turning down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was such an inconvenience.” He shook his head, moving to crawl out. “This was a mistake, I shouldn’t have-”

You moved to block him, sitting on the edge of the shoddily crafted mattress as you grabbed him and pulled him back. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.” You pushed him down gently and laid next to him with an arm across his shoulders. He squirmed in your grasp. “Tommy, stop. Talk to me.”

The blond hesitated before rolling onto his side to look at you. He looked so very young in the dim torchlight. Why did he seem to have to grow up so fast in every timeline? You moved your arm to run your fingers through his hair and he relaxed under the touch.

“Are we doing the right thing? It feels like we’re on some continuous loop and I can’t even tell if I’m just doing this because we’re the good guys or because I’m the little brother and I have to listen.” You hummed, scratching his scalp gently. “I always feel left out of the loop. And whenever I’m let in, I never have a choice on whatever it is. For the most part, I am, in fact, an idiot. But I fully admit to it, which should count for something, yeah? Why does everyone keep treating me as if I were a child? And when they aren’t treating me like one, they’re acting like I have all the answers.”

You watched his lips tremble and he scoot closer to press his face to your chest and you held him there. “Why can’t they make up their minds? I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t-” His words broke as he held onto your shirt, pressing his face closer into you. “I don’t-”

You slid your other arm under his head, holding him to you tightly. If you could save him from his own fate, you would have. You two may have not been bound by blood, but he was just as much your brother as he was Wilbur and Techno’s. You would die for him. You would kill for him. You’d do just about anything he asked. You’d protect him from anything.

The gods would have to wipe your existence from everything to get to the ones you loved.

Dream stood next to his brother, floating silently with identical masks. You weren’t afraid of them, but your lip trembled despite your resolve. DreamXD cocked his head at you, as if he himself hadn’t been the one to leave you next to that river and wasn’t aware of your existence. You grit your teeth silently.

“XD.” You greeted. The god’s head corrected before he reached up to remove his mask. An “x” scar crossed his face where his eyes should have been and he grinned at you. He recovered his face once more before blipping out of sight. There would be no fight from him today, but that was a warning.

“Well then, [Y/n], tell me. What do you think would happen to you if they knew your secret? Wouldn’t it make you happy to be able to indulge in the privilege we all seem to have?” You paused, a second turning to a minute, and your heart started to sound like it was beating out of your chest. You considered the possibilities. “Well?”

Dream cursed, his brother now gone. He’d have to do this himself. He too removed his mask and you steeled yourself, crossing your arms. You stared at Dream’s face, bare from the smiling mask that everyone was so accustomed to, displaying the sneer he held special for you. Your back was straight. You were firm. Your gaze unwavering and directing back as much of a threat as his. "I can't understand why you don't like me. You basically built this land from the ground up, and you turn out to be like this?"

His lip curled and your eyes flickered to his lips for a moment before you were back to glaring into his eyes. "You better watch your tongue around me. You can’t fool me with your little “no past lives” act. And you can’t make everyone like you. I know I don’t."

"You're the first who doesn’t, then. And just because you don’t believe that I have no other lives doesn’t mean you can go blabbing to the whole server either.”

“What makes me happy doesn’t matter. If others like me for who I am now, I’m fine.” This turned his curled lip into a full sneer, and you couldn’t stand to look at him anymore.

“See? This is why I don’t like you!” He grabbed your shoulders, and it took every ounce of your willpower to not yank yourself away. “You try to make everyone else happy and leave yourself in the dust! You can’t just do that.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat when you looked back up at him, and your eyes connected once. He wasn’t angry. He was worried. You couldn’t tell if it was for you or for the lost potential, but it was something you had never expected to come from Dream of all people. “Why do you care so much? This doesn’t affect you.”

“Anything concerning my brother affects me.”

“How does this affect XD?” He released you from his grasp.

“Because you are an anomaly and you shouldn’t be here.”

“Then why doesn’t he do something about it? Or Kristin? Or even Drista?” You couldn’t ignore the way he looked away, seemingly ashamed.

“Because they can’t.”

So what did it mean when the gods couldn’t touch you?

#Remembrance AU #dsmp au #dream smp au #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #platonic!tommyinnit x reader #mcyt x reader #unrequited feelings #tw: death #tw: suidice #tw: sui ideation #tw: sui mention #tw: arguing #angst

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gyllenhaalstories · 3 years

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HIGH HORSE — QUENTIN BECK

request: what about fighting with quentin beck for the first time, after he's been all smug and acting like he doesn't care about the reader and him realizing after they leave that he needs them in his life real bad - so he gets off his high horse for once and admits he cares about the reader?

warnings: canon divergent quentin (set in an alternate universe where quentin survived far from home), mentions of janice, guterman and a very out of character victoria, throwback scene (including violence, knives and manipulation), 18+, MINORS DON’T INTERACT.

word count: 1525

gif credit: winterswake

notes: i was listening to dark horse by katy perry, high horse by kacey musgraves, save your tears by the weeknd and the raya soundtrack? weird mix, but it takes what it takes to get the angst juices flowing. thanks for reading, remember to reblog!

“Next time you want to come up with a lame apology, I’d advise against asking Guterman to write it for you.” You finally broke the silence.

Quentin had just dismissed Janice for the next couple of hours, asking her nicely to change some part of his collar. You overheard her say something about knowing how to make the cape even more dramatic, and that was all the sweet talk Quentin needed to soften up and let her do her job without micromanaging.

You would never create a scene in front of Janice, she was sweet as pie. The fact he treated her with more kindness, patience and respect than he treated you made your blood boil. You blamed it on the piling up, the lies and the secrets. Your hands were deep under the water, in the sink. You toyed with your wedding ring, loosened up by the water.

“I don’t want to have this conservation again,” he scoffed.

“Again? You never let me finish it the first time.”

*~*~*

It was Victoria, another of his evil sidekicks, who had broken the news to you. He did not make it. His plan backfired, some kid had shot him.

You don’t remember much from this day, aside from Quentin insisting you did not follow them to London. Aside from Quentin renting a beautiful villa in Greece, where you were at that very moment. Aside from Quentin’s last promise to meet with you, after he shook the Queen’s hand of course.

You were so hopeful, you wanted nothing more than to see his pretty face. Instead, when you ran to open the door, it was Victoria who gave you one of her compassionate smiles. She was as great a liar as Quentin, as you. You could see right through her, although Quentin refused to believe that she was as twisted as him.

“They won.” She had told you, twisting the blade in the wound. It was just a game for her, for all of them. Except, for you, it was not. It was the life of your husband that was at risk (that part out of his origin story was true, it was the part both Hill and Fury fell for), the life of millions of innocent people who ignored just how far he would go to make his own dreams come true. “He fought like a King, it’s truly unfortunate he had to die a martyr.”

You squinted, taking in Victoria’s features. Her smile was turning into an evil smirk. She had one hand on your shoulder, the other one behind her back and before she could move any further, you shoved her against the wall. You saw a knife sliding on the tiles of the villa’s foyer, you rushed to grab it and point it towards her while you walked backwards, hoping the reach the balcony.

“You made him weak. He lost focus. We would be the masters of the world if you did not walk into his life and ruined everything for us. He was just a pawn for all of us, well, all except Janice.” She escaped her villainesque speech to roll her eyes, facepalming herself at the desperation of Janice to always check up on everybody and take care of everyone. Janice had loved you since the beginning, and it rubbed Victoria the wrong way.

Your back reached the railing of the balcony and you looked over your shoulder. You took a deep breath, your knuckles turning white from your grip on the knife. “I understand you, Vicky.”

The brunette frowned, snapped back to reality.

“He’s the charming type, isn’t he?” You noticed her repress a wave of laughter. “He sweeps you up, promises you to fly on a magic carpet and to show you a whole new world. You always wonder... Does he mean it this time? Is he being honest? Or is he smarter than we think?”

Her traits appeared softer.

"You say he’s a pawn, I say he’s the rook, except his ego gets in the way of the Queen. He’s quick and witty, though, can’t take that away from him. And next thing you know... He pulled out a checkmate behind your back.” You walked towards her, still the knife in hand. “I understand you can’t always get what you want, even if that’s all your heart desires.” You walked around her, so that she was now the one aiming towards the balcony.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Victoria said. “I could have given you the whole world.”

Your jaw clenched. You stepped even closer, so you could feel her breath on her skin. “Too bad I want the whole universe.”

With one swift movement, you pushed her off the railings and watched her as she fell practically in slow motion. You shook your head, deciding to deal with this turn of event later and rushed out of the villa. You could take the car she drove to the house with, and see for yourself if Quentin was the idiot they all believed he was. Dead because of a kid who’s obsessed with spiders? What was next, he would have consented to let Tony name his technology BARF? You knew him better than that. You knew him better than he knew himself.

By the time you reached the door, you heard the splashing sound of Victoria falling in the infinity pool, down there in the courtyard and let out a sigh. The knife, you left it on the bench and let your adrenaline guide you to your final destination.

*~*~*

“I was terrified. I was sick. I was losing hope.”

He looked in your direction, swallowing thickly.

“I waited months to see you, Quentin. To find you.” You washed another dirty glass, paying attention to the noise of his heavy costume squeaking and dragging on the floor while he approached you. You shook your head, and he listened, taking a seat by the kitchen island. “You left without hesitation. You left me without any hesitation.”

“I didn’t leave you.”

You chuckled and turned around, soap dish foam flying around as you spinned on your heels. “Oh, really? Then how come you didn’t even text me where you were hiding? How come you ignored all of my calls? How come you made Janice lie to me? Why were you avoiding me?” You dried your hands with a towel and approached him. “Why were you not searching for me all these months?”

These months he wasted trying to hide from everything, to play dead so that his plan would work out. These months he wasted putting his mission before his emotions first. These months he wasted waiting for the phone to stop ringing while you called him. These months he wasted stepping on his own pride and searching for help, for shelter, which he found in some abandoned head quarters of Stark industries that Tony and him used to build BARF years ago. The months he wasted trying to fix the broken pieces so you could see him as a hero again.

“I know I promised to be there for you through thick and thin, but some promises are meant to be broken.” Your voice cracked and words got stuck in your throat. The sight of his costume disgusted you, but the pain in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

“I love you.”

You forgot what these three words sounded like when he spoke them.

“I love you so much. More than this,” his arms gestured to show his costume, then moved around his head, meaning something bigger than the two of you. “All of this. It took me all this time to realize it.”

Checkmate.

“You deserve so much better. You deserve safety. You deserve comfort. You deserve to go out and not wonder if there’s a witch hunt trying to take you down.” He did not dry the single tear that was falling from his eye. “You deserve that stupid married life we always made fun of. The wine, the cardigans, the annoying kids running around. The only spider you should worry about is the one creeping on our ceiling.”

He was wrapping his arms around your waist, you helped him tighten his embrace.

“I’m sorry, for all the pain and danger I put you through.” You knew it came from his heart, and not from one of his rehearsed scenarios and speeches. “I’m sorry I failed you. You need a prince charming on a white horse and I’m just the royal buffoon.”

You chuckled, the sight alone lit up his whole face. “What I need is for you to get down your high horse. Go out, get some sun. Maybe you could shave, wear a cap and sunglasses. No one will recognize you, that’s how it works when you’re an undercover hero, right?”

“I don’t want to play the hero anymore.”

“Then, stop. Use those fish bowls you wear on your head to adopt gold fishes. Use the cape as a carpet. Kill Mysterio so that Quentin can live.”

He leaned against your hand, which was stroking his cheek.

“So that I can live with my Quentin again.”

#quentin beck imagine #quentin beck x reader #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal angst #jake gyllenhaal #quentin beck

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stellocchia · 3 years

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Alright, now that I got some sleep, time for an overly long analysis on Tommy’s second prison visit!

I’m only talking about character in the rp from here on out, not the cc’s unless explicitly stating otherwise

First of all, a clarification is in order: was it Dream’s plan from the very start to get put in prison to end up in this situation? No. Does this mean he couldn’t have caused this to turn things in his favour? Also no.

Dream has proven before that he’s a rather flexible character (kinda has to be with a nemesis like Tommy), he’s been put multiple times in unexpected situations and managed to come out of top. We don’t know if he expected L’Manburg to be reborn after the 16th, and yet he managed to have the whole cabinet wrapped around his fingers. He didn’t expect Tommy to threaten him with Spirit, and yet he spun it around on him. We also know he didn’t expect Tommy to leave Logsteshire (he was talking about it with Punz, it’s the reason he went to check on him shortly after because he realized he may have stepped too far and broken Tommy out of his manipulation there) which offered him the opportunity to frame him for the community house disaster later on.

He is nothing if not resorceful.

Another thing we have to discuss when talking about the visit is the themes of their relationship:

- Dream’s possessiveness/obsession

- The whole Dream finding Tommy “fun”

- Their “game”

More under the cut

- For the first point, when I say “possessivness” I mean that Dream literally regards himself almost as Tommy’s owner. Don’t believe me? Let’s talk about how he treats Tommy’s canon life then!

Remember all the way back during exile? To keep Tommy in line Dream consistently threatened to take his last life, implying that he would have been fine with Tommy dying, yet, as soon as Tommy showed signs of wanting to take his own life, Dream bust out the line “it’s not your time to die yet”, 2 times in fact. Why? Well, Dream wants control in all things, not only that, but he clearly thinks he’s in the right in wanting it. Of course the life of his favourite toy is no exception. Also let’s not forget about the terrifying scene on top of the obsidian grid where, when Tommy said that their story would be over soon, Dream immediately took control again assuring him it would never be over.

There is also Tommy explicitly stating that Dream was “borderline his owner”, in case we needed an additional affirmation, in the stream where Mexican Dream made an appearance in exile.

Also, I have to mention that during the first Prison visit Dream, when talking about what he missed, grouped Tommy together with “his stuff”... can’t get much clearer then that

- Dream’s describing Tommy as “Fun” has been a reoccurring creepy theme between them. But is it soley done out of manipulation or does Dream actually feel that way in his twisted world view? I’d say a bit of both to be honest.

Clearly there is a level of gaslighting with it were he used to say it at the very start of Tommy’s exile to get him in the frame of mind of considering Dream his friend and trying to convince him that they always had fun together (trying to get him to switch his anger from being directed at Dream to being directed at his old friends), but that’s not all.

Dream, in cutting all his known attachments, is left with only Tommy as an attachment, Jack is right on that one, which is the rason why his obsession seems so extreme. That said, it’s pretty obvious that he does sort of find his relationship with Tommy “fun”. It’s the reson why literally everyone else is a replaceable pawn, but Tommy isn’t. Don’t get me wrong here: he doesn’t see him as a human and, despite him “caring” in his twisted way, there is NOTHING healthy about their relationship. But it is still important to point out that Tommy is extremely important to Dream.

- Their game is something we’re all well aware of. They are regarded by so many people as the hero and the villain of the server, even though neither of them accepts their assigned role. That said they both view the other in the role assigned to them. Dream doesn’t see himself as a villain, but he does see Tommy as a hero and vice-versa. And, just like that, the stage for their “game” is set.

Only problem? Only one of them is playing the game. We know this from the season 2 finale: the reason Dream kept coming down and trusting Tommy was because he thought Tommy was as attached to their “game” as he was, but he was wrong. Tommy HAS other attachments, plenty of them, he’s not dependent on Dream and that’s also probably why Dream is so obsessed with him in the first place: everyone else is predictable, easy to use. They aren’t surprising, they aren’t “fun” (remember that? Remember Dream goning “Tubbo isn’t fun” when Tommy said he had as much value as himself? Because I sure do) they are boring pawns.

You’d think he may think differently of someone like Techno but, despite him acknowledging his strenght, he has no reason to think he won’t be able to use him every time at the smallest promise of violence as it worked every time before. George and Sapnap? When’s the last time Dream showed them he cared in any way? He used them time and time again and then left them behind when the relationships required work on his side to mantain. He didn’t even speak to Sapnap during his visit! He regards Quackity as barely an annoyance (remember what history left on him in the Lost City of Mizu? Just a Fool). Punz and Sam were both people he paid, only means to an end. They ALL played his game and followed his rules, which is what made them predictable. It's what makes them so replaceable.

Now that the themes are established, let’s move on to the analysis of the visit itself!

First of all: big foreshadowing from Sam with the missing books (which Tommy admitted to not remembering the content of) and from Tommy saying how much he trusted and appreciated Sam. It doesn’t have much to do with the analysis, but we all pointed it out.

That said, what was Tommy’s objective with this visit? Closure. Tommy wanted to make their game finally stop for good, he wanted to reclaim the control over his life that he hasn’t had for a while now. Not over his literal last life nor over hid day to day life. Both used to be controlled by Dream.

Dream “loosing” his clock is the first information we learn. But, remember during Bad’s visit when Bad convinced Sam to give Dream one last chance to get his clock back if he behaved? And then again with Sapnap? Dream wanted the clock to go, that’s why he kept burning it despite the warnings. Why? Could it be that he was planning to get someone to stay with him in there? Isolation affects you much harder when you’re not aware of the passage of time after all...

“That’s the Tommy I know!” from the start of the visit Dream is trying to re-establish their “bond” and get Tommy in the mindset of them being “friends” again. I mean, it’s not a coincidence that he’s never been this talkative or friendly in any of the visits from other people.

Other point in favour of Dream having planned this long stay is the sheer number of potatoes he had stored. Also, may I add that he immediately started giving them to Tommy? He started before the tnt and explosions, before he should have known Tommy was gonna stay. He never did this before during any of the visits we’ve seen. Establishing his role as provider again like back in exile I see...

Dream also started immediately demanding for Tommy to visit him more, but Tommy does turn it down just as quickly by explaining that that would be the last visit (if Dream wasn’t planning to act this time, he changed his mind in this moment. He’s very adaptable remember? And his main accomplice was online...). Of course, Dream isn’t happy about it.

We already established that Tommy is the only one he finds “fun” (as far as we know), having him stopping visitations entirely wouldn’t be good for Dream. There is also the fact that Tommy is deciding to move on on his own. It’s Tommy’s choice under Tommy’s complete control and Dream has already shown he’s not too kin on that being a thing.

“Anything you want to say to me now, you have to say to me now, because I’m not visiting you again” “Why?” I’m highlighting this piece of dialogue because I think it’s pretty indicative of Dream still being convinced that they’re both still playing the game. Sure, Tommy outplayed him for now, but the game is not over, is it? Tommy can’t just decide to drop him can he? They both have so much “fun” after all...

Of course though, to Tommy the “why” should be obvious. Because of Dream he’s struggling with severe ptsd. He’s afraid of plains biomes, of lava, of heights to a certain degree, of black stone (both because of the Attachments vault and the Final Control Room on this one), of tnt, of small holes (big enough to drop your items in as he said), of giving up his stuff and of Dream acting Friendly. Dream hurt him a great deal to the point were he’s not managing to settle down even now, he’s still afraid. How can Dream not see how he hurt him? How can he not understand? In Tommy's mind it just doesn't make sense.

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES (had to add this because it was just funny... why are there always bloopers with this 2?)

Potatoes again. Again the tnt had not started to go off yet. And Tommy eats them again immediately, of course. I can’t stress this enough, but this is done again to re-establish the dependency tommy had on Drem during exile. While he didn’t entirely depend on dream for food (he barely ate and he had Mushroom Henry), he used to be entirely dependent on him for protection, getting to the point where he would hardly defend himself from the mobs when they attacked him even when Dream wasn't around. Of course Dream can’t provide “safety” while he’s in prison, so he has to find something else.

“You had all this shit coming” “I did but... you know... maybe one day” “No! Have you seen this prison? It’s kind of the most secure thing ever” They are talking about two different things here. Dream is implying that, maybe, they’ll let him out in the future while Tommy, having already decided to move on and not worry about Dream anymore, is implying that the only way Dream is getting out is if he manages to escape, which he won’t. Quite different from the first visit were Tommy showed quite a bit of hesitance when asked if he would ever let Dream out.

“Unless you have extreme therapy” Tommy recognizing the importance of therapy I see! No, but, more importantly, this goes to show that Tommy is moving on from his exclusively vengful mindset he had at the start (which was more then understandable, btw). At the start of this visit he said he didn’t think that Dream deserved to die anymore and now he’s recognizing that he needs help, Tommy however also knows he’s not the one who should be helping him, he can’t. Still, he’s empathizing with him, because he can’t help doing so. Despite everything, Tommy always tends to see others as their own individuals, even when the same is often not true in reverse.

“I mean exile wasn’t that bad... right? I mean, we hung out” again, tying it back to the themes in their relationship, this fits so well. Of course exile wasn’t that bad, right? After all: why would Tommy have needed anyone else when he had his Best Pal Dream? And here’s the thing: we can’t know how much of what Dream says is just manipulation and how much of it he believes, but Dream has shown enough signs of being dependent on Tommy as his only attachment that we can assume there is, at the very least, some level of truth in this. I mean, if you remember back when he blew up Logstedshire, he didn’t even wanna believe that Tommy was suicidal. Tommy told him directly, but was dismissed. Why? Not because Dream wasn’t extremely opposed to him taking his own life, he’d already shown that not to be the case. Perhaps because he actually didn’t think it was that bad? Maybe he didn't want to admit he pushed him too far? Did he actually view himself and Tommy to be Dream’s own twisted version of “friends”? It’s a possibility and it’s what this visit seems to imply.

“When I’m around you I feel like my brain is conditioned to be your friend, but also when I have a knife I wanna just plunge it into your heart... you don’t make me a good person!” This seems to be a rather recurrent theme with Tommy and the mentor figures in his life. Wilbur trying to convince him (albeit not managing to) to just blow it all up and give in to his aggressive nature. Techno wanting to “bring him to the side of evil” and making him more violent in the process. Now we have confirmation that Dream himself makes him lash out more (though we could see this already when he was in exile in how he lashed out at Jack Manifold without the latter having done anything to deserve it). There is also the confusion to point out. While Tommy is trying to move on he’s clearly in no way “healed”, he’s still very much suffering from the consequences of Dream’s abuse and manipulation. He still doesn’t know exactly how to feel about him because, despite everything, he feels compelled not to hate him entirely.

“You’re a bad guy” “Well I did bad things, but everyone thinks they’re right from their perspective” “That’s not true” I haven’t seen almost anyone talk about this exchange, but it’s such an important one! As we said, Tommy views Dream as a villain, Dream doesn’t (he admits to having done bad things, but not to being bad because of them). Dream also sees Tommy as a hero, but Tommy doesn’t (Tommy doesn’t even view himself as “the good guy” in his own story, which ties in to his big self worth problems). It’s an interesting dynamic to be sure.

“Well I think I’m right. I did bad things, but I did them for good reasons” “What good reasons?” “I wanted to bring the server together you know? Make it a big happy family” This is the second time Dream brings up unity as his ultimate goal (the first being with Punz). Of course we know that the “unity” he wants it’s under his complete control. It’s not an objective that we can see as positive, but he does, or, at least, if he’s telling the truth about it, he may actually believe in it. Now, while this is the second time he brought up “unity” directly he did also strongly imply in the season 2 finale that that was his intention when explaining he was doing everything to get the server to “how it used to be”, back in the idealized past with no conflicts that never existed. Dream is deluded in the literal sense of the word, I would say it’s pretty probable there is at least some truth in his declared objective (truth in the form of him actually believing the bs he spews).

At this point Tommy is done. He’s drawing an end to the visit and Dream started getting more frantic. He started insisting on how he’s “changing” and insisting for Tommy to go visit him again. Ngl, I think this was probably to buy time for his accomplice (who is very possibly enderwalk!Ranboo) to get there. Because, if he let Tommy go, their game would truly be over, and Dream can’t stand that.

And cue the explosions!

So: Dream managed to buy enough time and, by the prison's protocols, Tommy is now stuck with him up to 7 days. He can’t leave which means Dream gets another chance to force him into continuing their game.

Quite a few people pointed it out, but, from this point onwards, Dream gets much more assertive and controlling in his demeanor. He drops the whole “insecure” act that he had going on in his enunciation and general behaviour and goes back to being like the old Dream (you would almost think that all that talk about “having changed” was just absolute bs, though he keeps insisting on it throughout)

Tommy’s behaviour also changes. He gets much more paniked (no doubt a combination of way too many of his triggers being present at once) and pliant. He starts calling out for Sam and asking to be let out but, of course, that doesn’t happen as Sam has to take care of the security breach first and foremost.

Dream starts immediately harping on Tommy being stuck there (probably to increase his panic, as he's easier to influence when he's distressed), first pointing out how “Sam can’t hear him” and then that the tnt must indicate a “security problem” (which he then explains he knows the consequences of because he wrote the book). By now he’s dropped his meek act entirely and he’s showing to be much more smug and self assured (a big contrast with Tommy having a very obvious panic attack). As we already said: he got what he wanted, he basically won already. All he needs to do now is get Tommy back to how he used to be in exile (”when they had fun” in Dream’s words...).

At this point there is only one question left to be answered: Why did he do all of this? How does this benefits dream?

Clearly this didn’t help him to get out. The security may actually increase because of it. Right? Well...

“I mean... if you want a way to get out, let’s get out together! We can work it out, we can-” “Fuck off” “Then there is no way out” I’m going out on a limb here and saying that, perhaps, Dream may know a way to get out provided 2 people cooperate on it. Tommy wouldn’t help him yet, but, who knows what he may do after spending way too much time locked in a small room, with a lava fall on the side and Dream to top off the list of his worst nightmares...

“Are you trying to get out?” “I’m not trying to get out, I’m not trying to get out!” a bit of a contradiction here, considering he proposed getting out together like 2 minutes before (coupled with his insistence on “one day...”)... however “I’m not trying to get out (yet)” may be a way to interpret his words more truthfully. If he just needed an accomplice to get out, he would have probably used Ranboo, but there is something else he wants as well...

(btw, potatoes AGAIN multiple times, especially every time Tommy is particularly distressed, and Dream also brings up Tommy being on his last canon life again in the context of this being “just like exile”... man do be trying hard with those parallels...)

You see, he already told us that he still sees his objective as good. He still wants control. He still wants his game to go on. And there is one person he elected to be the key to everything...

“I’m telling you you’re stuck in here for a little while with me, were we can bond, we can talk, just like old times, right? You know... just like exile” “Tommy this is the best thing that’s happened to me since I got in this prison, because now we can be company, we can stay together!” “Fine, fine, you’re done with me in a couple days, when you get out of here” “Tommy it’s not that bad! We can- we have lot’s of time to bond” Ngl... something tells me his other objective is very obvious... and we talked about it to death by now. But, in case it wasn't clear to someone, he wants to get back what (or who in his case) he considers to be his most cherished possession (again, do NOT interpret this as a "good" thing. It isn't. Dream literally treats Tommy as his toy, it isn't healthy and I've seen way too many people in chat trying to imply otherwise and calling it "cute". It's not cute, it's abuse)

“Tommy you’re stuck in here with me wether you like it or not, ok?! Wether you like it or not you’re in here with me for a WHILE, we’re gonna talk, we’re gonna have lot’s of fun” I just wanted to point out again how much Dream’s demeanor changed from the start now that he’s back in control. He’s not asking Tommy to talk to him, he’s not giving him a choice in it. Tommy already said how he doesn’t wanna talk and “get to know him better”, but that doesn’t matter. He has no power anymore. He doesn’t have the power to leave NOR the power to ignore Dream, as much as he wants to. Also, after this, Dream seriously ramps up the whole “We’re gonna have so much fun!” shtick...

And you want to know the saddest part of the ending? Tommy is already cracking (honestly, not surprising. He’s been through WAY too much by now...)

He started asking Dream for confirmation of whether all of this was “serious” (just like he needed to ask if things were real back in exile... or generally Dream’s opinion on everything). He also asked for more potatoes in a dejected tone (I know it may not seem that serious, but, as I said, it is just another way to create the dependency that Dream wants), showing a beginning of acceptance for Dream’s role as provider once again. Together with the very obvious “I can’t do this” and the black screen right after it creates a very worrying picture.

In conclusion: Dream is already dependant on Tommy, but the opposite not being true was a big part of his downfall. So, before he can get out, he has to work on getting Tommy back to exile!Tommy only this time he’ll be even more careful not to do some dumb mistake probably...

As anxious as I am to see how this will develop I do also think it’s one of the most interesting outcomes they could have had!

Also can we please take a moment to appreciate how WELL cc!Dream anc cc!Tommy manage to handle this incredibly serious scenes? Like, they bounce off of each other perfectly and, as someone who’s done theater themselves, I cannot commend them for managing to do so well in IMPROV enough!

They are honestly so great! Let’s get some serious love and appreciation for them to close on a positive note!

Also @mysweatymakerstudentworld

#tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #tw suicide #tw abuse #tw manipulation #exile arc #dream smp #Dream smp spoilers #long post #my post #analysis #relationship analysis #this is the sequel to rapunzel where she's stuck on the tower with mother goethel #I can't imagine it ending well...

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