#i also thought about doing 'when you aim at the devil make sure you don't miss' with cassian shooting krennic
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Best friend's little sister | Javy 'Coyote' Machado
Pairing: Javy 'Coyote' Machado x Fem!Seresin!Reader (call sign: Valkyrie)
Summary: Don't let Jake know that her little sister and his best friend are in a secret relationship. Easy, right?
Word count: 2.3k
Requested? Yes / No
Warnings: mentions of death, javy doubts himself, reader helps him see he's better than that, secret relationship, mentions of sex, idk maybe i'm missing something.
A/N: THIS IS THE FIRST COYOTE THING IN MY BLOG WHOO! Thanks Coyote anon, I needed an opportunity to explore Jake being a big brother and here I have it. Changed the part of 'getting caught on a date' bc i got carried away and i completely forgot about that part. oops. I also tried a new form of writing, i'm not sure if i like it, but if i can't experiment here, then where? Hope y'all like ti <3
Javy 'Coyote' Machado and Jake 'Hangman' Seresin are best friends. There's no doubt about that. Having graduated together in Top Gun as the two best pilots of their promotion, the duo became inseparable ever since. Even though they ended up in different stations after graduation, that friendship never halted.
Another thing that left no place for doubt is the fact that Javy and Y/n liked each other. Everyone with eyes could have known. It wasn't that hard to see the quick, awkward glances they shared with each other, making the girl blush profusely due to the eye contact. It would have been easier for Coyote to make a move on her if Y/n 'Valkyrie' Seresin didn't share a surname with his best friend. Yes. She was Hangman's sister. Twin, actually. Because being related wasn't enough, no. They had to be twins.
Valkyrie was the younger one for three minutes, and Hangman took the role of big brother those 180 seconds gave him. He would always protect his sister. In kindergarten. In elementary. In high school. Even in the Navy. Because, yes, the Seresin twins did everything together. And when Jake announced to his family on a Sunday dinner in mid July that he'll be going to the Naval Academy, Y/n simply said: "We're going."
Hangman could be older, but Valkyrie was always there to protect his brother from the many tense situations Jake's cockiness led him to. They always had each other's back.
There were two people that Hangman did not leave behind when they were flying. Coyote and Valkyrie. If something happened to those two because he wasn't where he had to, he would never forgive himself. He trusted them more than anything.
And they betrayed this blind trust Hangman had on them.
When the best of the best were called back to Top Gun for a classified mission, the Seresins were there. Being the third also counted as being part of the best, and after graduating and ending up in the same base, Valkyrie became Hangman's wingman. People around the base called them 'The Devil's twins' as they never failed a target, their aim was ways on point, and if you were unlucky enough to see them behind you in the radar, well. You could prepare yourself to say hello to the Devil himself. Of course they would get involved in such an important mission.
When Javy saw her entering the Hard Deck with her brother, he thought that he was seeing a deity in front of him. One of the legendary valkyries had come down from Valhalla to end his suffering and open the doors of the feast hall in which he'll spend the rest of his days, drinking and eating his problems away. He wanted her. God, he was infatuated.
Valkyrie could see every thought in Javy's eyes. She knew he wanted her. But she could never get involved in such a way with his brother's best friend. What if something went wrong? What if they ended up hurting each other and Jake had to choose one of them? Of course Y/n would never make him choose. She wasn't a little girl, she could be in the same room with her ex and be fine about it. However, Jake would choose her. Always. And he would probably never have his friend and his little sister in the same room again. Y/n couldn't do that to him. She couldn't be that type of person.
But when someone looks at you as if you were the most perfect creature to walk on Earth, it tests your willpower. And Y/n couldn't ignore her feelings any longer. After Coyote almost crashed his airplane when blacking out due to the high-Gs, Valkyrie waited for everyone to leave the locker room and approached the male, who was still a bit shaken up.
“You scared the shit out of me.” said her, sitting next to him on the bench. He nodded, acknowledging her feelings with a distant, agitated expression. Javy didn’t think he was going to make it. His first instinct was to pull up and save the expensive aircraft, but he realized later on, that he should have ejected from it. All he could think of was you and the amount of things he wanted to do with you but didn’t because he was scared of Hangman.
“I know. I fucked up. I should’ve been better.”
Y/n could feel the remorse in his muttered words. She moved closer, her hand squeezing Coyote’s one, trying to reassure him. “It’s not your fault, Javy. Those were a lot of Gs. It was bound to happen.”
“You didn’t black out. Nor Jake. You’re better.” he said, his eyes falling to the soft hand that was holding him and caressing her knuckles with his thumb. “You’ve always been better than me.”
Y/n looked at him, and instead of expressing all the thoughts that were in her mind, she dropped his hand and flicked his forehead. “Darling, you’re an absolute idiot. I’m not and I’ll never be better than you. We’re working under a lot of pressure and our bodies are tired, you egressed with a force of 9-Gs, Javy. It’s not usual and we just need a few tries ‘til we get used to it. It’s not that big of a deal and you’re not a bad pilot for it.”
Javy ran his fingers through his forehead, trying to sooth the pain from her flick. “No need to hit me like that.”
“It was just a warning. Next time you doubt yourself, I’m doing it harder.” she said, laughing and rising from the bench.
“I doubt myself with a lot of things, you know.” Javy looked up at Valkyrie’s face, lightened up by that sweet smile that was always there, even in the worst situations she managed to smile. It was like an angel.
“Well, tell me those things. Let’s see how wrong you are.” she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the lockers, waiting.
“I already told you about you being better than me”
“Complete bullshit. Next”
“I think I should work on my aiming skills. Your brother is always better”
“That’s some kind of superpower he has. He aims like Legolas himself, but doesn’t have proper social skills. Nothing to envy if you ask me. You, my friend, have a very good aim and an excellent ability to flirt with every girl we’ve ever encountered. So, again, bullshit. Next.”
“I don’t know if I can stop ignoring my feelings for you any longer.” his words, coming in a whisper, as if he was trying to not be heard by Jake, fell heavy against his tongue.
Y/n and Javy looked at each other, both realizing that the ball was now in her court and she needed to make a move, or retire from the match. She was scared. All those years, all those glances, the light touches, the whispered conversations, the little small gifts after coming from a deployment, the FaceTime calls at 2 in the morning when one of you couldn’t sleep… all those things could become something more at that moment. Or become a memory if Y/n rejected him.
With her heart beating faster than it should be humanly possible, she answered: “Don’t ignore them”
Valkyrie had never been kissed with such an intensity. His hands were fierce, pulling her closer while his plump lips were soft, tender and loving. She knew, then, what being loved felt. And it was a feeling that she wanted to experience every single day of her life. They kissed for a while, until they heard someone approaching the room and pulled apart, as if they had been struck by lightning. That day, Coyote and Valkyrie began their secret relationship.
They learned which were the best places to hide and kiss like hormonal teenagers during the next months. They knew every corner, the empty offices, the perfect angles to hide behind an F-18. It became easy after a while. But lying to a brother should never be easy, Y/n thought. And she was afraid that the longer they kept it hidden, the harder would be for Jake to forgive them.
Now, the Dagger squad is deployed to the Pacific Ocean in an important operation. Being on the carrier offers a big amount of places to hide, and several different opportunities to be away from Jake’s sight. “We should tell him, Javy.” says Y/n, laying down on Coyote’s bunk bed while her brother, who shared a room with her boyfriend, was away on a meeting with Rooster.
He is laying on her, his head pressed against her stomach so she can pet his head. He’s obsessed with her hands, how they are strong to control an aircraft yet soft enough to give him comfort. It’s a complete mystery for him.
“We’ll do it, baby.” he turns his head, pressing kisses over her clothed stomach, a tiny smile appearing on her lips. “Let’s just wait until we finish this deployment, okay?”
Valkyrie nods, grabbing Javy by the collar of his shirt and making him move closer to her lips. She just wants an innocent kiss. But no kiss remains innocent with Javy. His hand moves from her hip to the curve of her ass, kneading it through her uniform pants. She gasps at the sudden action, and he slides his tongue inside her mouth.
“What the fuck is goin’ on here” says Jake from the doorway, shock and anger in his voice.
Y/n pushes Coyote away from her with such force that he falls from the bed. Luckily, they were on the lower one, so he doesn't get hurt. He just hopes that Jake doesn’t hurt him after this.
“Jake, let me explain…” Javy begins, but Jake is not having it.
“Y/n, you’re my sister. I’m hurt because he’s my best friend and he hasn’t told me anything either but I can understand it, somehow, wanting to keep the new girl a secret from the rest. I get it, we’ve all done that before. But you? We tell each other everything!” Jake’s words hurt you more than anything. He’s right, you tell each other even the most tiny details of your life. And you have left it out from the most important one.
“I know, Jake. I-I’m sorry but he’s your best friend and I wanted to know what was going on between us before telling you anything.”
“Tell me, then” says her brother.
“Tell you what?”
“What is going on”
Her eyes look everywhere but her brother’s face. She doesn’t know if she should tell Jake this without telling Javy first… but here goes nothing. “We’ve been dating for a few months. Two, almost three.”
Jake ignores Javy’s presence, the only explanation he wants to hear right now is from his little sister. “Is he treating you right?”
She lets out a dry laugh. “Of course, Jake. You know him. He’s a good man”
He sighs deeply, shaking his head. “And are you serious about it or is it just-”
“I’m serious, Jake,” Coyote states, interrupting his friend mid-sentence. “I’m not messing around with her”
Jake turns and looks at him for a moment, before talking to his sister again. “How serious?”
“I love him” she confesses, her cheeks growing hot under Javy’s stare. She hadn’t told him about it yet.
“...damn, it’s serious” Jake looks at Javy and then, as if nothing had happened, the blonde pilot hugged Javy. “Welcome to the family, Machado”
Javy and Y/n let out a breath at the same time, knowing that Jake is not mad anymore. “Thanks, Jake”
“My mom is gonna love you. Anyway, I’ll leave you two lovebirds but let me take something first” says Jake, while moving around trying to find Coyote’s bag. “Here it is”
“What are you doing?” asks the owner of the bag, who has joined Valkyrie’s side and is now holding her hand and whispers softly for only her to hear. “I love you too”
Jake opens the khaki sack and takes out a blue box that was hidden inside Javy’s toiletry bag. “I’m making sure that you don’t have sex with my sister when I’m on the same carrier than you”
Valkyrie rans from the dorm faster than an F-18, leaving the two men alone. She never had to talk about sex with her brother and is not going to begin now.
“I’m trusting you my sister. Do something to her, and I don’t care if you're my best friend. I’ll kill you anyway” Jake warns.
“I’m gonna marry her, Jake. It’s too soon now. But I will. I’m not letting her go” this confession makes Y/n’s brother smile warmly.
“I always knew you would end up with her” says Jake, patting his future brother-in-law on the shoulder.
“Then why did you put on that show?”
“Because it was my job as an older brother! C’mon, help me find Rooster. He owes me fifty bucks”
Javy is now very confused. “Why?”
“Because we had a bet going around. And I won”
Javy stops walking, turning to face his friend. “What? Did you bet on us?”
“My bet was that you had been dating since the Uranium mission. And I was right”
“I can’t believe this” Coyote laughs, totally shocked by the news.
“Wait until you find about the other one” says Jake, walking about with a smug smile.
“WHICH OTHER ONE?” Javy yells, scaring a few people that come out from their rooms to look at him. He apologizes quickly and leaves the area. This isn’t exactly how he thought Jake was going to deal with the whole thing, but at least he hasn’t have to hide anymore from his best friend.
#top gun#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun x reader#top gun fanfiction#javy coyote machado#javy machado#javy machado x you#javy machado x reader#javy machado fluff#javy machado fanfiction#top gun maverick
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I am in love with the wha cross guild designs. Can you say something more about them? Like the thought process behind them and stuff.
sure! What I focused on first is how Mihawk, Buggy, and Crocodile's motives and personality would translate into the WHA world (I need a loose story first to be motivated before delving into the design!)
tbh I think with one piece's characters so focused on freedom and living without constraint, all pirate characters would technically be brimhats LOL (and Coco's arc of realizing the flaws of the current insitution is quite similar to Koby and the marines).
Devil fruit powers are easy to translate into seals tattooed on the skin (hence wha!Buggy's seal on his chest letting him split his body and wha!Crocodile's on his hand giving him sand manipulation). Mihawk is more interesting since he doesn't have a devil fruit, so naturally wha!Mihawk also doesn't have tattooed seals. Another way for a witch to become a brimhat is dabbling in forbidden seals, so wha!Mihawk has cursed seals on Yoru instead (which makes him a brimhat without modifying his body)
As for cornerstone character traits in the original: Mihawk is the greatest swordsman, Buggy is… just vibing LMFAO, and Crocodile is ambitous/power hungry/looking to rule his own kingdom. Obviously the greatest swordsman title means nothing in WHA, so wha!Mihawk instead is a great artificer, with Yoru being the strongest magic imbued weapon in existence. I'd like to think Yoru's seals were initially within guidelines, but Mihawk felt those rules were suffocating Yoru's potential, which is when he started using cursed and forbidden seals instead, all for the sake of Yoru becoming stronger.
Buggy I'd imagine is kind of like how Iguin is introduced in Coco's past- as a solo traveling witch mingling amongst common folk rather than being in a community of fellow witches. I think he'd be addicted to that feeling of superiority he'd get from being a revered witch in the eyes of the common people, so he's probably the head of a traveling circus troupe (where he's the only witch) touring the countryside (keeping a relatively low profile in the realm of witches, never staying in one place too long so the Knights Moralis don't go after him). Buggy's definitely not as altruistic or eager to help those in need as witches are supposed to be in WHA society, but of course he'd put on a good show to entertain the masses.
Eolio mentioned something interesting in chpt 53 ("We can be as in the tales of yore. King and witch, side by side"). There might've been more references to this concept of a monarch/person in power with a witch as their advisor (I just can't find it at the moment a;sldkfs) but I'd imagine that's what Crocodile would be doing. Like Buggy, I think he also gets a sense of superiority by being alongside commonfolk (vs Mihawk who's goal is to genuinely just make the strongest weapon possible and not interested in mingling with others). But instead of Buggy's route of mingling with commoners, Crocodile would definitely go the more sinister route- find some easily manipulated king or high lord and get into his good graces, eventually becoming the witch operating in the shadows and whispering machinations in his liege's ears. We don't know much about the pennisula yet and how far the witches' institution reaches so I don't know the exact position of power Crocodile feels safe aiming for without the Knights Moralis coming for his ass (a ruler might be too obvious lol but then again Crocodile tried to take over Alabasta right underneath the World Government's noses so who knows).
As for the designs themselves:
Mihawk's fluffy plume being reminiscient of a brushbug is what started this entire idea for me, so I knew I had to add that in somehow. For each character I picked an overarching motif/theme I wanted in the character design, as well as adding in WHA design elements. WHA characters all tend to have large cloaks to cover their body while writing seals, and even though Cross Guild is all brimhats, nobody starts out as a brimhat so I'd imagine a large cloak or something top heavy would still be familiar to them even if they don't care about covering seals anymore.
For Mihawk I leaned a bit more into the vampire theme than his usual (cloak silhouette is bat like, plus the additional crosses everwhere. His sleeves aren't exactly attached to his jacket (like OPLA) and I also added that detail in the pants haha. I think Yoru is the real star here with all the seals on it, the two big ones are actually modified seals from the Ars Goetia (since they're supposed to be cursed after all); the top one is Glasya-Labolas (manslaughter and bloodshed) and the bottom one is Ronove (taker of old souls). The flower pattern on his sleeves is also not as paisley looking since it doesn't fit with the WHA artstyle, but there's so much hatching that at the end of the day I don't think it mattered lol. His cloak is the least cloak like since he needs to be able to swing that sword HAHA also he's not interacting with normal humans much anyways, usually he only interacts with witches that try to challenge him. Personally I think wha!Mihawk is quite bad at drawing seals on the fly- his specialty is being able to carve complex ones on metal perfectly so they'd be suitable in a fight later.
Buggy I went full medieval jester mode (I always tend to lean toward that aesthetic for Buggy rather than Joker Batman anyways haha). A couple of star motifs here and there, as well as slashed sleeves to reinforce the slicing and dicing of his body. Overall there's just a lot of vertical and horizontal lines on his body for that purpose. I really wanted to let Buggy's beautiful hair down since WHA's style is lovely with that kind of flowing hair. Oh all three of them are also wearing slyph shoes!
Crocodile's coat is directly inspired from Iguin's (esp for that scale motif); overall I wanted to incorporate flowy ornaments for him since I'd be drawing a lot of flowing sand; hence all the tassels on his cloak and sleeves. Cutouts are there for him to use sand manipulation more effectively. I know in canon both for him and Buggy the clothes also are affected by devil fruit powers but I don't think that would be the case here- Buggy's clothes also probably have seals in them and no one would be able to see if he's on stage but I think for Crocodile, since he'd be working with normal humans more he does have to be more cautious about things (hence why he also has a more traditional cloak compared to the others). Sand hat for coolness also for convenience bc he can just dissipate the sand if he's trying to disguise himself (like how Ininia's ribbons can appear normal instead of brim shaped). I also gave him a smoking pipe instead of a cigar because the pipe can be used as a red herring of sorts- to outsiders it might appear the pipe being the source of power (like for Mihawk's sword) but Crocodile's sand manipulation ability has the same scope as canon.
ANYWAYS that's probably a way more detailed response than you expected but hopefully that was interesting to read my thought process behind things! even though i captioned it Cross Guild I guess it ended up being more East Blue/Alabasta saga personalities than actual post Wano Cross Guild dynamics haha
#cross guild#one piece#witch hat atelier#erio stuff#for those confused go check my previous wha cross guild crossover art#I honestly did not expect that my thought process would be this lengthy#I guess this is what those 5 paragraph essays next to museum paintings are LMFAOOOO#maybe I should read them more closely next time I go to a museum
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sorry i really really really want to ramble because my GOD Raphael has me in a chokehold. my christian grandma would probably get an aneurysm if she ever learns the amount of affection i have for a fictional nasty devil man
Raphael always striked me as... i def don't have the needed english vocab for this, but, yk, nudging? hinting? suggesting rather than forthcoming? a cat seeing the rodent go into its hiding place and simply waiting near it rather than pushing its paw inside. a cat staring at it's human when they cook rather than trying to steal the food bits by itself. yk????
he nudges us in the right direction, he knows one way or another we'll do what he wants us to do and so he waits and plays around rather than straight up DEMANDING we do something. he only goes yeah yeah so and so its YOUUUR choice yes YOUR CHOICE..... its like that thing he said with Mol, what was it? "to choose the only option she has left"
and i think in a romance it would be very much the same, in situations. i imagine if he goes in for a kiss, he... well, he won't *go in* for it necessarily. he'll move in just enough for OUR mind to think of it, then patiently wait for US to make the first move, and goddamn it I'm pouncing onto him alright!!! it reminds me of a post i saw a longass time ago about how flirting is basically saying horny/affectionate stuff but also having enough deniability to say "oh,no, thats not what i meant at all". and he's literally the personalization of that.
"did... you flirt with me?" "take it as you will, little mouse, all i wanted to say is [explains in still a vaguely flirty manner lmfao]"
and that opens up, like... how would he be when he's not patient enough??? if his patience is JUST running thin he'll probably pull us closer yeah but make it not too obvious and more almost like how you pull in a dance partner. he can't let us know he NEEDS to kiss us, hmmm? and when his patience is gone for sure i can definitely imagine him just straight up grabbing us tbh. you didn't give the cat enough attention so get ready to be clawed at until you give it a VERY MUCH DESERVED treat you ungrateful human
(cat-coded raphael believers unite)
so so so sorry to drop all this text on you i--- 💀
🏃🏼🏃🏼🏃🏼🏃🏼🏃🏼
Anon, you stay right where you are! Don’t you dare and run away! [Guards, close the gates!]
I'm being silly omg, don't mind me. But never apologize for coming at me with Raphael thoughts, I love this so, so much! 💕
Also I wholeheartedly agree! Raphael definitely is an observer who likes to tempt action and then see it unfold, curious for the direction it will go. The comparison to a waiting cat really fits! After all, isn’t it that much more satisfying if the food is brought to you instead of taking it yourself? 😌
"To choose the only option she has left", that’s quite classical devil behavior if you ask me. - Making the deal with him appear like the last resort. Maybe moving a few things into place here and there, but ultimately just offering a solution in desperate times of need.
Omg, I wondered about this so much, anon! Because yes! True! Raphael has time and I even think it will take him a while to come to terms with his own feelings (those feelings he shouldn’t have as a devil). The “tempt then wait and see” behavior plays into this perfectly and gives him the chance to declare it a mere game he enjoys.
I imagined a scene where Tav or Durge teases him and he can’t resist anymore, loses his patience, and kisses them with demanding passion. But oh, I really, really like your idea too. Maybe even more, since you are right, that’s such a him thing to do. Offering, preparing “the deal” but it’s Tav/Durge who needs to sign it by claiming those tempting lips for a kiss.
Or well, why not combine it: Tav/Durge teasing him, Raphael losing his patience (we all know he struggles with self-control when confronted in well-aimed manners), but stopping himself from the last step, his fierce need so very obvious and still holding himself back, because as you write: He can’t let them know he is internally shaking with desire and yearning for them.
And the way I imagine him to flirt is quite similar to this, indeed. Sometimes just teasing or some flattery, sometimes lewd like the liquor in bellybutton line, but he has this suave demeanor that always creates a bit of distance and allows his prey to take a step backward if they are not willing to go there (yet). Tav/Durge needs to be quite courageous to get that next step from him. Of course, Catphael Raphael has to make it hard for them, probably because he enjoys it but maybe also because he’s not quite sure how to deal with it all himself. His usual duality of hidden insecurities and egomaniacal pride we love him for.
#cat-coded raphael believers unite#well spoken anon#well spoken#raphael#raphael bg3#bg3 raphael#dmagedanswers#bg3 spoilers
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20 questions for fic writers
thank you for the tag @imagineacoolusername <3
1. how many works do you have on ao3?
18
2. what's your total ao3 word count?
109,886
3. what fandoms do you write for?
marauders (+ dc but i haven't posted any)
4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?
i just wanted a muffin
wrecking ball
a summer in wales
we are the dead
fistclenching, heartaching
5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?
i try to but if i can't think of anything to say then i just don't
6. what is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
that I've actually already written the ending for, would definitely be midnight rain. but the planned ending i have for the devil wears an angel's face is probably angstier
7. what is a fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
definitely i just wanted a muffin, its literally pure fluff throughout 😭
8. do you get hate on fics?
only once or twice, i just ignore/delete it though
9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?
nope
10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?
no, i don't really like crossovers. i do like aus, like characters in one fandom put into the situation of a different media (that's not really a crossover tho, is it?)
11. have you ever had a fic stolen?
not to my knowledge
12. have you ever had a fic translated?
nope
13. have you ever co-written a fic before?
yeah. once with a mutual who is now deactivated, about the marauders going on a camping trip to snowdonia. and then with @lesbianmckinnonn we have the sinners and the saints (marauders during war years)
14. what's your all time favourite ship?
dorlene <33
15. what's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
i'm really aiming to finish all my wips, but i know i probably won't. im gonna say one I've never even posted, the cafe/bookshop au (i got bored of it and haven't written any of it in over a year sooo)
16. what are your writing strengths?
i actually have no clue. apparently i'm good at dialogue cause i can make it sound like vastly different people speaking? so that? and the storyline ideas themselves
17. what are your writing weaknesses?
probably the fact it takes me forever to write just a couple of words. i am super slow. also i always forget to describe things/people
18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
i'm absolute shit at learning languages, like the only language i can actually speak/understand even slightly is bsl. a lot of my characters do speak other languages though, so i like to sometimes have them speak in them i either ask mutuals that i know speak it, or have to put the sentence into like 20 different translation websites to make sure its right
19. first fandom you wrote for?
technically once upon a time when i was 9/10 (it was like half a notebook about regina becoming the evil queen again and lily joining her to get revenge against emma). but i never posted it, so the first posted one would be for harry potter
20. favourite fic you've written?
very hard to choose. i really like my cannibal!dorlene fic but i haven't actually published any of it. so choosing one i've actually written quite a bit for, I'm gonna say either fistclenching, heartaching or the devil wears an angel's face
tagging: @blitheringmcgonagall @lesbianmckinnonn @drownedlove @iheartmoons @ace-catboy-ryuuzaki
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Dear Reader thoughts…
Parts of this song just feel like they were written by Karlie…I’m sorry if this is a clown 🤡 take. I am going to jump around in the song a bit. But follow along if you’d like.
My thought that this was Karlie narrating started with this lyric “But darling, darling, please you wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking.” It just feels like she’s making it clear it’s not who you think narrating this song. I also can see it saying even if you think it’s me it’s not really me that is talking online if that makes sense.
When the narrator says “My fourth drink in my hand.” It made me think back to the entire second verse from Question…? Where Taylor sings:
“Half-moon eyes, bad surprise. Did you realize out of time she was on your mind with some dickhead guy that you saw that night. But you were on something. It was one drink after another. Fuckin’ politics and gender roles and you’re not sure and I don’t know.”
The way that one drink after another pings in my head in that second verse of Question…? ties it to the fourth drink in my hand from DR because it feels like the word ‘drink’ means year. Like the fourth year in my hand. Like 4 years of “marriage.” Which reminds me of ivy “My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand. Taking mine, but it's been promised to another.”
Then the next line “These desperate prayers of a cursed man. Spilling out to you for free.” Sounds like ivy again specifically “I wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed. He's in the room. Your opal eyes are all I wish to see. He wants what's only yours.” The man in this story is the hullabaloo. Being tied to him is a curse. The hiding in plain sight line feels like it’s tied to the second verse of Vigilante Shit as well as the Great War she was the soldier in camouflage who got trapped behind enemy lines.
Then the lyric “if you knew where I was walking. To a house not a home all alone cause nobody’s there.” That line sticks out in my brain because it reminded me of CIWYW “My baby's fit like a daydream. Walkin' with his head down I'm the one he's walking to.”
Then the lyric goes on to say “Where I pace in my pen” Where she describes this house that is not a home as a “pen” she paces in like an animal in a pen waiting for her chance to be set free.
Like if we compare this to the opening line of the song “Dear reader, if it feels like a trap. You're already in one.” This whole song feels like a warning to learn from the narrator’s mistakes.
And then she says “and my friends found friends who care. No one sees when you lose when you're playing solitaire.” Idk why but this line just feels so layered. It just feels like the narrator is self-isolating intentionally so that she is the only one who gets damaged. Like taking the brunt of the loss by fading into the background.
Maybe I tie all this to Karlie because that line reminded me of this picture Karlie posted to her IG stories on 10/6/21 with her and her friends having a game night idk:
Plus this line “Dear reader, when you aim at the devil. Make sure you don't miss.” It just feels like there was some failed efforts to get out but they backfired. Like if we compare this to the pen discussion before. It just feels like a failed escape attempt that just made things worse.
Also the “never take advice from someone whose falling apart” refrain feels tied to the
Then the outro lyric repeating “you should find another guiding light but I shine so bright” seems like it’s her saying I’m not pure sunshine because I can’t be while I’m still in this pen. It just feels defeated.
The “mom” that is heard in the background 4x throughout the song. Just seems like Karlie.
Conclusion
Idk something about Dear Reader just feels like Karlie…but Idk this is all just a clown 🤡 analysis/theory thing.
I will probably do a more general parallel post at some point for this song.
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Glee Musical Retrospective: Papa Don't Preach (Hairography)
youtube
Sung by: Quinn Fabray
Original Artist(s): Madonna
This is the first Madonna song they do on the show. And, apparently, they do one every year until season six when they inevitably run out of Madonna songs. ;)
Story Analysis
It's not weird that Quinn would sing a song about teen pregnancy. It is weird that the show thinks this performance would somehow entice three eight year olds to shut up and watch. But this is the Glee universe we're in.
The song is fairly on the nose for Quinn's character -- and, for the first time, Quinn is singing a song that fits her actual persona instead of trying to emulate a persona she just doesn't really have. The use of Madonna is a relatively good choice to reflect on Quinn's less than innocent inner feelings and desires.
Papa, I know you're going to be upset
Cause I was always your little girl
But you should know by now
I'm not a baby
It's an interesting use of lyrics as she's singing this post-Ballad. He father wanted her to stay a child, and did get upset when he found out that she wasn't his idyllic little girl.
The one you
Warned me all about
The one you said
I could do without
We're in an awful mess
And I don't mean maybe
It's fitting that she's singing this song while Puck plays the guitar. Puck is one of those guys that women are told to stay away from, and fits the bill of this song perfectly. He's that bad boy type that does end up getting the girl pregnant.
The camera pans to Puck as these lyrics are sung, but to the point of the song (in lyrics that we never hear) the two of them do have feelings, and it wasn't just about having sex and having an unwanted pregnancy about it. Quinn and Puck share some meaningful looks just as the music reflects their situation - but it's interestingly complex. It's about the fact that they both know they have feelings for the other - but their circumstances make their love story not an easy situation.
But I made up my mind.
I'm keeping my baby
And - continuing on to be right on the nose for the story - this is the point where Quinn is thinking that maybe she can have it all. Maybe her life won't be interrupted by a new child. Maybe she and Puck can have a loving and healthy relationship. Maybe they can have a nice little family -- after all -- they are getting Kendra's devil children to settle down.
While most of the songs on the show use a truncated version of the song, this one feels like it's abruptly stopped -- as if not to finish the complete thought. And, while yes, the scene does need to end, I think it's also worth noting that Quinn's inner thoughts are put on pause momentarily as she works out whether or not she really does want to try to pursue not only a relationship with Puck but also actually trying to raise her baby.
As I said above, though, while it fits Quinn's character perfectly, it's a bizarre choice to be singing to children. Maybe they just liked the pretty lady dancing. Who knows.
Technical Thoughts
One of the nice things about this one is that it utilizes Dianna Agron's lower register a little. It's not as low as she can go, but she doesn't sound like she's straining to get all of the notes, which is a nice change comparatively to her earlier solos. Madonna has a deeper and somewhat raspier voice that Agron can emulate nicely. I think it adds a layer of grit to Quinn that's always been there but not always shown.
They also allow Quinn to be teasingly flirty and a little bit sensual, when it comes to the choreography. Sure, she's dancing around a little, too, but there's a more adult layer added to this song. Quinn's not in her cheerleading uniform, and not constrained by it any longer either. Quinn's allowed to be free to be herself, for the first time in, who knows how long - and it's nice to see.
(The song is a perfect choice for Quinn, but Glee is so weird about its context sometimes... her flirtatious dancing is aimed at children, and the whole scene is weird within context.)
I kind of wonder if Mark Salling did the guitar part for the recording. Salling was accomplished on the guitar and probably could play this one no problem. I'm also not often fond of his acting choices - but I think he has some great chemistry with Agron, and the shared, layered thoughts actually play really well here.
vs. The Studio Recording: So, this is exactly the same as the show version, which means it's really short. I kind of wonder what made them decide to only do half the song. I will say - this is still early in the show, and they didn't cater to iTunes sales the way they'll do starting in the second half of season one.
vs. The Original Version: I love seeing these videos for the first time. Wow is this so 80s I can't even. The 'hunk' in this? Lol, omg. This definitely Madonna at her peak though.
The thing is - Glee finally goes far from the original arrangement, and it's actually nice. The original is a relic of the 80s, completely with synth sounds and, well, more synth sounds. The acoustic version they do on the show not only fits for Glee's attempt to add realism, but makes it a more contemporary sounding song.
Also, as usual, a lot of Quinn's choreography is inspired by the dancing around Madonna does in the video. Which I always find an intentional nice touch.
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Put On Your Raincoats #50 | The Jade Pussycat & The China Cat (Chinn, 1977)
From my understanding, Paul Thomas Anderson is a big fan of The Jade Pussycat, having encouraged his cast to watch it when he made Boogie Nights and compared Bob Chinn's direction to that of Alfred Hitchcock. Now, Anderson is considered to be one of the greatest directors currently working and I've directed jack shit, so perhaps I am missing something, but having seen the film, I find Anderson's claim to be a tad generous. This is seventh entry in the Chinn-helmed John-Holmes-starring Johnny Wadd series, the inspiration for the Brock Landers movies in Boogie Nights, but the first one I've seen, although I suspect one doesn't need to see the prior entries to follow along. This is a porno-noir, with the Macguffin being a priceless artifact called the Jade Pussycat, which fell into Japanese hands during World War II and is now being smuggled into the US by Jon Martin.
Martin gets doublecrossed and kidnapped by Linda Wong and her gang (which includes Chinn himself), so his sister hires private detective Johnny Wadd, played by Holmes, who we meet while his secretary is sucking his dick. Complicating things are the involvement of a pair of Germans, one of whom is a Sidney Greenstreet stand-in played by Steve Balint (whose only IMDb credits are on this movie; he also acted as "production bartender"), and the other is Georgina Spelvin doing a teeeeerrible Teutonic accent (which evaporates during her sex scenes). There are plot twists, a scene of characters pulling guns on each other in succession that reminded me of the climax of the Bollywood comedy Andaz Apna Apna, some location footage from San Francisco's Chinatown, the usual pornofunk scoring (which goes really heavy during a rape scene) and an undercranked silent comedy style sequence leading up to the Holmes-Spelvin sex scene (which the poster touts as the selling point). And some good dialogue too, like Martin's retort about the beauty of the artifact ("Baby, anything worth half a million bucks is beautiful") and Holmes' exasperated quip after bribing a hotel clerk for information ("One more thing: don't forget to claim all that money on your income tax, you asshole").
This is diverting enough, as porn and noir are natural bedfellows thanks to their innate seediness, but a lot less lively than previous efforts I've seen from Chinn. While some of the visual style was lost on me thanks to watching this on a less than ideal transfer, I'm not sure Chinn ever really nails the noirish tone this material calls for. Bizarrely, all the actors seem to be aiming for understatement, which might be an attempt to commit to the material but just makes things less fun all around. Balint and Spelvin come across the best, as they're tasked with hammier characters, and there are scenes where Wong seems like she's trying to keep a straight face after hearing a great joke the audience isn't privy to, but the latter two aren't nearly as magnetic as I've seen them elsewhere. As for Holmes, I thought back to Wade Nichols in Punk Rock, who sank his teeth into his hardboiled dialogue in a way Holmes never tries to. I've found Holmes enjoyable in a comic ensemble (Chinn makes good use of him in Hard Soap, Hard Soap and Disco Lady), but his work here is too deadpan (one could sarcastically call it Bressonian) to provide a decent centre for the movie's.
More enjoyable than The Jade Pussycat is its follow-up, The China Cat. In case you're wondering, it refers to the same artifact, which Holmes refers to by the new title only in the opening and closing narration. This picks up where the previous movie left off, with Holmes in possession of the artifact, and a group inspired by Charlie's Angels (called the Devils) trying to get their hands on it. Chinn and Holmes seem to be having more fun this time around, Chinn finding ways to pornify genre elements (like when a character puts chloroform on her privates) and tip his hat to the masters ("Send it to Bogie!") and Holmes leaning more into the comedy. There's a scene were he pours drinks in the nude, another where he shows off his Chinese snuff bottle collection (which is only three bottles, making "collection" a bit of a stretch), a restaurant scene that was lovingly recreated in Boogie Nights, a nicely varied soundtrack (one of the sex scenes is scored by some ambient synth that reminded me a bit of Air's Moon Safari), a "miniature hitlady", and some heroic acting by one of the ladies who tells Holmes "You're a very attractive man, Johnny". If the movie does suffer, it's because it's far too episodic for a private detective yarn and lacks much narrative momentum, and that Holmes' character is neither a very good detective nor terribly sympathetic. I will concede that some of my enjoyment of classic porn actors stems from my familiarity with them and I have less history with Holmes than some of the era's other stars, but I never found myself warming up to him or the Johnny Wadd character.
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Predicting my own future!
I wanted to share some of the cards from the online tarot reading I got and these cards are most meaningful to me.
When I lay tarot cards for myself, then I always get this card too -
Tower
The course of life. Outcome. Life style. The result of a long time of work or effort, or even of a lifetime. Stability is the balanced foundation of the current situation. As a place of isolated from the world, the tower symbolizes philosophical thought. Details of life and the general direction of life's development. Typically, this card predicts longevity and happiness even in difficult times. However, much depends on the other cards, therefore - keep your attention aimed at the combined meanings.
I do seek after peaceful life and stability in all aspects of my life. Why is it so much harder to predict my own path?
Other cards I got are-
Whip
Punishment. Discord. This card indicates a possible punishment. Whip warns about conflict and disharmony, especially within the family or with someone very close. It can also help distinguish good from evil in terms of higher justice. Be very careful in your actions, negotiations, and conversations. Disharmony - this may be a dispute "between fathers and children", family conflict and lack of understanding in a relationship, or a quarrel between former associates. It may indicate internal problems, unreliable friendships, unfortunate love affairs, and unstable marriages. As a more general meaning - review of old agreements or being fired (the "new broom"), changing business environment, work, life, or relocation. Rod mainly means disputes and quarrels. It destroys the comfort in your home, allowing the love to fade, and sows the seeds of discord between close people. In relation to your health, the card predicts a long and severe illness with high temperature. Whip is not a heavy load or burden but is a symbol of punishment and torment. You will be faced with very heavy demands and expectations. Torment and discomfort of a physical or psychological nature. You must be ready to stand up for your own interests. Endless and tiresome discussions and debates, demoralize you and challenge your courage. May indicate a chronic illness, weakness, a loss of energy, and to cause you pain. In addition, the card warns about fever, which won't be easy to deal with. You may experience punishment. Pay special attention to your debts, and maintain proper financial discipline. Make sure you park your car properly and don't speed. It could mean that maybe your parent's house was not a secure and pleasant environment and you shattered your psyche while living there. It could also indicate long-term debilitating illness or a crash in the domestic circle. You should be very careful regarding upcoming troubles and quarrels. If you notice any negative developments, take measures to prevent them, otherwise, the consequences could be unpredictable.
Like I need more of this. I've never been healthy in my life, have quarreled a lot with my dad and the worst is to come, when he finds out me being transgender. I know he loves me, but it's his own mind that is stubborn. I just hope I'm able to survive all of this.
Book
Mystery, secret, teaching and knowledge. Can mean an important discovery, difficult puzzle, one of the mysteries of existence, which you're trying to dig into. Alternatively, information is deliberately hidden from you. Very often, the appearance of the Book suggests the need of learning something new, the importance of good and continuous education. The book can symbolize a secret that is about to be revealed. May also speak of unrealized opportunities. The card's advice: open the book and use this knowledge and this opportunity, it will help you realize your hopes and dreams.
I do like learning. I want to get a master's degree.
Mice
Represents loss and frustration. Mice for Christians are servants of the Devil, hunters of souls, a symbol of decay and devastation, a symbol of passing time. The appearance of this card means property damage, loss, or theft. You can be robbed. So, check again the locks, the doors, the windows, and the water pipes, and do not wear your purse or your wallet too openly and carelessly. However, it can also symbolize that what was lost will be found. Mice are the most voracious animals, as well as the most greedy. They are also known for their fertility. These qualities make the Mice card a symbol of large losses. People have long considered them pests in the animal kingdom, hence this card warns of illness too. Something hurts you, eats you, and does not allow you to live in peace. Relating to your health, this card could signal there are stomach or digestive problems. Mice are very cunning thieves and usually escape unnoticed by their prey. Pay attention to the usual stuff in your life, the loss of which can slowly but surely weaken your position. This is not going to be a sudden loss but it will be significant and will be happening in time, bite by bite. Overall, this card is an indication that you have to go through a very important and difficult lesson.
I do have stomach issues. Funnily though my dad was born in the year of the Rat, so there could be a meaning.
Sun
Luck, vitality, fate. The sun symbolizes the source of independent (individual) actions, intentions, and the energy of life as the embodiment of the powers of the universe. The sun is the source of light and heat, and without it, there would be no life on Earth. These qualities make it a visible and obvious omen of good times. Glory, gains, wealth, triumph, joy, sincerity, truth, recognition, insight, rejuvenation. Success in all things. Glow. Acquisition. Achievement. Satisfaction. Wishes come true. In addition, the Sun is a symbol of creativity. This is a period of good luck, good health, and an optimistic mood. Surrounding cards will tell where the good luck will strike. Can also mean assistance that you wished for. Creative impulse, inspiration, self-realization. Sun also symbolizes the principle of stability. If in the company of negative cards, it softens their negative meaning and merely says that you have to be patient: luck or help will come, but later. In the meantime, you may experience self-doubt, and feel depressed, but you must remember that this is a temporary condition.
So there is hope and you always need hope too.
#writers on tumblr#writing#writeblr#writers and poets#writerscommunity#writer things#writerblr#adventure#books#unexplained#tarot reading#tarot cards#tarot community
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Dear friends in tumbler. I opened this page not to make it as organization. Or tumbler will be my place. I opened it to take rest by seeing faces from my brothers countries .Also i know my enemy in Iraq spy on me. And be in any place i be and go to any one i consider as close. And i don't wanted him to go . He is like cow no use from talk with him .he know i love my brothers countries. There for he use this points. By the way i hounred by tumbler and so plesure if it be as organization. To me .but if i be out side Iraq. Also make sure who will be my secretary or hid guard. Who will mange .but now iam not with who makes himself my guard or secretary. I tired to fired him .or replaced by whom i trust .but he refused .There for i can't trust by this spy terrorism .There for i delete any organization in internet .while this spy terrorism atill make himself my hid guard in Iraq. I told you this from beginning cause i don't wanted the same mistake repeated .and dear tumbler will be my enemy place .like what happened in my others internet .in instgram and Twitter and ok rus and others. Cause my enemy in Iraq .let those as organization he lead its not me .all whom in out of any control from me .no any one take any orders from me . By the way i tried them all .when i use its to support President trump in elections. But all those do against what i said . .no any girls inside take any orders. When i need them in certain mission . All this wrost happened. Cause .i was not know who this spy devil. I thought each social media are different .Also i didn't tell them from beginning .what my aim of opened this pages . By the way iam not normal person. If i opened organization .but of course in my conditions. Also i must know who is my secretary. And he must take orders From me .only. for example if i see any one inside this social media need help ..like what happened in instgram. When some girl from usa named Krista Marie. Needed little help .just 300 dollar. And i said ok .but this hid guard this lier and terrorism .didn't gave .see he do what he wanted .and this repeated in Twitter and ok rus and YouTube .about ugly Facebook i consider it as enemy working with terrorism . In Iraq . There for i never deal with .Also if for example i agree to open organization in tumbler of course i will never opened any other social media. Cause who have clothes shop .of course he will never go to another shop to saled clothes. And who have a real wife . Of course he didn't look at womens . Or still looking .but of course .shuold be real wife . Not only pictures .or little vedio all see .i mean real wife and special talk with him not hid . Or unseen . .or they wanted him be loyal to a picture . Also the more important that i know for example this tumbler became my place .all what i need i found . Also i know my secretary or hid guard. To can punished him if he didn't obey my orders and fired him and replaced .
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50 Shades of You! Tom Hiddleston X Female! Reader
Note: This is my first ever fanfiction for Tom Hiddleston. I have not written fiction for ages. English is not my first language.
Inspiration: this is inspired by:
“I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes.”
–Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing
Word count: 2660
Warnings: Romance, sweet words, and smut–this is +21 and not for everyone.
Enjoy reading and please comment with your feedback. 💚
-------------------------------------------------------
During the summer Cambridge University was having a conference "Gothic Elements In John Milton's Paradise Lost." As you the young professor of literature, the coordinate manager suggested that the University alumnus could join for not just attending, but acting a piece of the tragedy. Amongst the candidates was the Classic department graduate and famous actor, Tom Hiddleston.
You know that he might have scheduled issues or time conflicts, but you suggested the committee email him. To your surprise, he accepted the offer.
The scene of choice was casting the devil out of hell.
On the stage during the conference eve, you did not have the perfect time to watch him, but you took a glimpse of acting from far.
He even caught your show and face attending the rehearsals.
The conference day was pressuring. You were trying to get everything right, in the middle of your so-close meltdown. A voice brought you to reality, "Hello, is this professor Y/N)?"
You turned to find the British handsome alumni smiling peacefully at you. "Yes, how can I help you?"
"Indeed, I am the one offering help." As he adjusted his glasses, I asked the committee manager to take upon some errant backstage. Maybe I can assist with the front ceremony?"
"Of course," you paused for a moment, "can you help me with the dinner's seats arrangement? My assistant is absent and I have to print and arrange them myself."
"Just show me a computer and all will be done."
Both of you took your time arranging an evening missing up some seats.
"Here comes my name. You will be seated with the professors, of course!" He was busy putting name tags over the table.
"Oh! Don't remind me." You replied as if it is a conversation with an old friend and continued "the Classic department and Literature."
"They might start a war." Both of you started laughing
"I have an idea." He took a tag from his table and moved yours next to his. "Now you will be with a friend"
The presentations finished, you had to go for the gym showers to change and wear your conference and dinner dress.
By the time you arrived, the scene from the tardy was about to be played. You took your place in the front seat.
Tom was playing Satan. He noticed that you were reciting the lines with him. He even almost smiles at you. Could not hold himself from looking at you in the front row while playing the scene of...
"All is not lost; the unconquerable Will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield; (And what is else not to be overcome?) That glory never shall his wrath or might Extort from me to bow and sue for grace With suppliant knee and deify his power, Who from the terror of his arm so late Doubted his empire[.] (I, 106–114)"
Your facial expressions captured his eyes, the movement of your lips and then the flame of your applause.
At the dinner, he was interested to hear all about your work and writings. His eyes could not able to leave you.
By the end of the dinner, he walked you to your car, "this was lovely, thank you for tonight"
You smiled at him, "thank you for accepting our invitation."
You shake hands and opened your car door like the gentleman he is.
"Would you like to go out with me, for a coffee? Books and coffee, maybe." He did not hesitate to ask.
"I would love to. You already have my number within the conference contact information." You raised an eyebrow and smirked.
As your car drove away, he knew he was up for an adventure.
Three months later, you are happily dating and sharing sweet kisses. He suggested a film marathon. Each week one of you chose a topic.
That Saturday's topic was Russian Literature and you had to add: "or inspired by it"
"Excuse me, but Tolstoy has no comparison!" He grimaced
"Shadow and Bones, love!" You teased him, "it the Netflix adaption of the era"
"After Anna Karenina, please," he sounded like an old professor.
"Alright then, deal." You tickled him and kissed his lips softly
Both of you enjoyed Anna Karenina, however, you were crying in his arms.
"That dreadful ending."
He hugged you "Hey, Shadow and Bones will make it up to you, let me make extra popcorn." Once again, he kissed you.
He came back with popcorn that will at least survive three episodes. You snuggled between his arms.
"Look at Alexie, how he said 'Make me your villain.'"
You were swooning as a fangirl.
"I beg your pardon, I am literally a villain," he complained
Oh! I would literally," stressing upon the last word, "let him have me"
His face was irritated and you not coming close to making love made him anxious, that you might not be ready. He never inquired about you.
You caressed his tummy, "hey, a penny for your thoughts, sir." It sounded like one of the Jack the Ripper prostitutes, about which you have constantly been talking.
His voice evolved deeper and his eyes did not leave yours "your deepest sexual desire. What do you crave?"
Comparing to your age, you were nervous and inexperienced. "My life was spent between books. I..."
He did not let you continue speaking and took your lips between his drawing your body closer to him, uttering between his hot kisses "I am not just a villain" his lips made the earth move "I am a God" whispering against the sport skin of your nick " a king" his hands were moving down the same tomes his lips reached the line of your bosom whilst his hand slides prevailed touching down pussy and dug his fingers driving you till the edge.
"I want you," you whispered between your soft moans.
He neglected your cravings and maintained his rhythm, watching your complexion and closed eyes till you arched your back in awe.
You collapsed between his arms heavily breathing "that was extremely wonderful, but I need you"
He kissed your lips playfully. "you are a delicious girl, Y/N, but..."
You hashed him with a kiss that he pulled from "if your life was between books, I want you to write me your deepest desire."
"Darling, it was a series, Alexie is fictional." You wrapped your arms around his neck.
"Fictional or not, he is a man, you are paying for this."
He was deadly serious "write me your longing."
You laugh "What? Like the 50 Shades of Y/N?"
He gazed into your eyes "aiming to please and punish you, darling, avenging my honour"
The next morning when you were with your family on Sunday's lunch, he opened an email titled "50 Shades of Y/A"
The content was as follows:
"You!"
He grinned to himself and determined to show her how fiction can become real.
Your week was busy. He had signed a new contract for a mini-series and was supposed to film soon.
Not replying to your email made you nervous, even went meeting for dinner. He was quiet about it.
You checked your sent box millions of times to make sure it arrived. Still, you knew he was busy working, and you were busy with the finals coming soon.
Thursday’s dinner, nothing yet, nothing but gaggling and discussing your days and current reads.
"Darling, we did not decide this week's marathon"
He did not take his eyes off the menu "Are not you having a big family week, you should go" he was confident and calm.
Deep inside you wanted to grab his neck and jiggle him, but for the lady you are and the restaurant, you were calm.
"Wonderful!"
The dinner was over; he drove you home, kissed you goodnight.
Saturday morning, a ringing at your door. Apparently, you received a package, a big one.
You kept thinking that some books might have come early from your publisher. Unwrapping it to a surprise satin 1950 coat with Ruby red entourage and black heels.
There was also a note, she recognised the handwriting:
"Wear nothing but this for your punishment. If other pieces were found upon your body, then fear my fury and vengeance.
Love,
T"
So, it was her version of Mr Grey. But have you ever been ready to comply with anyone?"
Suddenly, a message arrived on your phone
"Reminder, a black will pick you tonight at 8, don't disobey me, Princess."
Your heel clicked on the floor as a man dressed in an old fashion suit opened the car for you. The windows were blacked out, so you did not see where it was heading.
"Welcome, Princess," he greeted you as if you were royalty, "My master is awaiting your presence."
You took his hands. The place was carved out of one of your favourite dark fantasies, a mansion with gargoyles, dark lighting, and a vast garden.
You could not believe your eyes. Tom knew your deepest desires indeed.
But that is not the end.
The inside was as of a dark enchantment with deep red flowers and candles. The servant showed you the way to a dining room fit for a feast. Tom was not there.
"My master requires you to await his arrival." The servant bowed and left.
You were like a child been left inside her favourite toyshop. The ornaments, the lighting, and even the shapes of the food. That aesthetic you only could dream of but never reach.
"Enjoying yourself already?" You turned to find your man dressed in a black Victorian suit. His face was shaved, shorter hair, no glasses. Just all of the handsome glory.
You took a step forward "no princess, I shall come for you"
He kissed your hand and then sat on the table's head, while it sat on the opposite side and faced you away indeed.
"Are you pleased, princess?" He raised his glass of red wine.
"Yes, my Prince." You smile.
"In here, you shall address me as your king." His eyes lit with fire, and his voice was harsh.
You played along and raised an eyebrow "my king."
"This is not a game, princess, you are my prisoner"
You dined quietly, as he did not drop his eyes from you.
"Enjoying yourself?"
You flirted "deeply, my king"
He left his chair and came closer to you, his fingers left your chain so you can gaze into your eyes.
He asked, "care for a dance?"
You smiled "I would love to."
You stepped forward and took his hand to a ballroom, just for you and him, the dark king.
The following piece of music was sensual and moving.
"The coat, princess, I want to see nothing but heels on your body,"
You obeyed the king, but for a tick. When you took it off, underneath it a short emerald green strapless corset dress tight upon the curves of your body and pushed your bosoms to their glory.
He grinned and his eyes darken "looking for further punishment, I suppose?"
"Anything to please the king." You took his hand and kissed it. He did not expect it.
He turned furiously and the next song was romantic. He wrapped his arms around you once again, waltz, you sneaky woman, deserved joy before being punished.
Twirling you on the dance floor like the earth has no one but the two of you.
By the end, he carried you "to my chambers, little one"
You were nervous and anxious. What if he did not like what was underneath the dress?
He entered a candlelight room with a four-poster bed in the centre. The curtains of the bed were black and emerald.
He laid you in bed, kissing your lips and playing with your hair.
His breathing was heating against your skin.
"You won't miss that dress, will you, princess?"
He did not wait for your reply as he lifted a dagger amongst the layers of his suit and cut the corset down to the last piece of the dress.
You wore nothing else. You were lying exposed as he stood to look upon your naked curves for the first time.
You spontaneously tried to cover your bosom and private parts.
"No, do not you dare" he was angry and you could not distinguish reality from fantasy.
You throw the rest of the dress away. Hands laying by your head and he stood there for a juncture, gazing at every inch of your body.
"Turn," he ordered angrily as if the soul of Loki took over him, "I said, turn"
You nearly dropped tears "here my king"
You felt the softness of his lips upon your delicate shoulders.
Kissing the line of your spine. He knows this will work like magic. You tickle from your back, now trying to lick you, taste you, slap you.
He flipped you to face him. You were sobbing. He could hear it under your moans.
"You are not a princess, you are not a queen."
He wipes her tears from her cheek "you are a goddess and I am your slave."
You giggled between your tears, wrapping your arms around his neck "my king"
"Your, slave" As his voice became softer, he hushed you with a finger.
He kissed every inch of your body. You were playing with his short blonde locks.
"Let me worship your bosom, my goddess" he kissed, licked and played with your nipples and cupped your bosoms gently.
Kissing down till he reached your pussy, "Let me worship your temple" as he licked your clitoris.
You were moaning loader now
“Not this time, my king I want you inside me."
"Alright, as the pleasure of my goddess, I shall obey."
He adjusted his weight on you and asked, "wider for me, my goddess of beauty"
You opened for him as he enters you for the first time. You let out a loud breath "are you alright" he took your hands between his.
"Continue, my king."
He is just thrusting himself gently inside you. Your moans filling the room
"I am a villain, a king, a god, and a man"
Your hands were free to run along his back as he continued, "a man, no, a slave for my goddess"
You were moving with him and moaning louder, "my king, what else?"
Thursinting himself harder and moving with a faster pace.
"My goddess, the sculptures of beauty," between his breathing and moaning "Da Vinci would not be able to capture your grace"
You were kissing as your nail dug inside his shoulders.
His last whispers as moving himself inside your pussy which was clutching around his manhood. He moved with pace, as you rocked your lap against him
"I will live in thy heart," kissing your lips as you bite his lower lip between your steamy breath. "Die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes.”
He was going faster now and you were in tremendous awe and your skin was heating up with your pleasure.
"Look at me goddess" you were closing your eyes as you become close to you your orgasm "look at me," he ordered
"I love thee, Tom," you said as your pussy was clutching around his manhood and trembling underneath him. His enormous climax followed your orgasm.
You were shaking. He used his hands to keep himself from crushing you with his weight.
He rested his forehead on yours till both of you caught your breath. Gently took you between his arms as resting on his side "and I love thee, Y/N"
kissed you and as you were falling asleep, yet muttered, "I made you my villain, did not I?"
He giggles, "I beg your pardon, your God, King, and lover"
You kissed for the last time of that night and snuggle between peacefully each other's arms.
----------------------------------------------------
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Antinomy
Part 2; things are brewing. VIBE
“Do you know the spiritual meaning of 11? What about in numerology? You’ll find it quite intriguing, funny even… until it starts making sense.” You’ve witnessed and harnessed the way and days he had grown to be; this fic enumerates the trials of the 11th before he became a Harbinger under your care. From strangers to mentor to friends to love- Childe made a grave mistake, now you’re once again strangers.
Pairing -> Childe x Harbinger!Fem!Reader
Word Count -> 5217
Themes -> Friends to admirers, mentor, fluffy, suddenly ANGST
Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event) Part 1
Warning -> Blood and injury
Maybe it was stubbornness, his unhinged desire for the thrill of a fight, or you mistaken misguidance. Many possibilities, really, but Childe knows it had nothing to do with all of those. You're not to blame for his mistakes, but he sure as hell would have to pay for the mess he just created.
vi. fontaine
The show felt like a dance made to lure and trance such audience, and despite his resolve and difference in agendas, the strong Harbinger had been victim to the beauty of the show. Of swaying thin clothes and alluring flicks of the hips.
“We’re not co-workers, we don’t know each other, remember that.”
Tambourines and lyres synced through the performance as men and women alike cheered and stumbled to the songs. The Snezhnayan dancers set the bar high in terms of beauty as the Fatui disguised as performers indulged the crowd in symphony and dance, as if the whole nation was under a mania, no one saw and no one heard. They just followed lead as the agents lulled their own targets into a sense of security and joy.
In the middle of the crowd you lead the choreography as the main dancer, distinguished by the colors of your garb and its grandiosity, yet still respectably covered compared to the other performers. Your main objective was to catch the havoc of a man that left the headquarters of your organization in flames at his wake; and yet, it was instead Childe that was allured to your spell.
An intoxicated man had been eyeing your behind with drooling eyes for a while now, and with the assistance of liquid courage, he reached his hand out to get a feel- when it landed on gray pants of firmness. “Oh my, I didn’t know you swing that way, citizen,” you whipped around to see Childe directly behind you, who was also has his head angled to look behind him where a Fontaine man stumbled back in disgust. His hand clutched to his chest as if it were burned. “Sad news tho, I’m off the table, try someone else maybe.”
Before you can register the edge in his voice, he was already guiding you by the hand back to your dancing stride. You were momentarily stunned but devolved into a glare at his current recklessness, “Come now, Lady Viscaria.” He addressed you by your dancer name. “The whole world is high in the clouds around us, this would be a moment no one will remember.” You didn’t even need to look to know he was right, and you succumbed with a sigh.
Childe didn’t realize just how small your hands are compare to his, the softness of it in contrast to the rough texture of his gloves. If he knew, if only he knew, he would have removed them before you had entertained the idea. Your steps were lithe and your turns were grace manifested, eyes closed yet a gentle smile equipped on your face, the ones you had been wearing ever since you started the performance. “So this is how you fight.” He mumbled with his own grin when he had spun you back against his form, your feet glides against the pavement yet barely touching it as you seemingly floated to place. If he hadn’t known better he would have thought you were an Anemo Vision wielder.
Soon enough the square dissipated to give way to the ferocious dance you two had eased into. Steps became more pointed, arms tensed and strong, and the turns was almost reminiscent of martial arts as you seemingly evade each other’s swings. Suddenly a kick aimed to hit his chest forced him to jump back, and at the other side you dropped your foot, a taunting smirk and a condescending gaze set upon him. His blue eyes widened.
And the elegance of the tango from earlier turned into a vicious round of capoeira, powerful kicks and jumps yet not made to touch each other. Your figure leaped into a crescent kick when he had made a sweep to hit your ankles, him immediately rolling to the side to evade the blow. Dropping to the ground with your ankles and knees bent, a leg outstretched you gasped, and went into a running start towards him, “Lift!” A single command yet he knew what he needed to do.
Gripping your hips upon your leap his strong arms easily eased you high up, your legs were kicked high up and one bent farther back and you steadied yourself by gripping on to his shoulders. The atmosphere turned tense and the only sound you can hear were the ragged breaths you heave up close. And the crowd around then explodes into a round of applause.
Childe seemed to have snapped out of a trance from the foreign noise, breaking the eye contact you both held as he slowly placed you down. There was a sudden bashfulness to him then. But was once again pulled away from his reverie when you quite literally pulled him out of the square into a dark alley, eyes glinting dangerously as a toothy smirk donned your lips, “I saw him, the redhead.”
...
The chains felt sentient. As it flies forward to try and capture him, Childe conjured a wave to sweep it away only for it to change angles to strike at him again. It pierced through the pavement he was once on before it moved to retract back to the owner. At the other side, Childe had a glimpse of your more successful fight with the fugitive as your polearm easily deflected the advances of the chains, even if it gets caught sometimes. Your Cryo Vision would always make quick work of freezing and breaking the chains.
None of you expected a non-elemental fight, and this seemed more complicated of a battle than you would have thought. The man carried with him the aura you feel when you use your delusion, you grimly thought as you ducked out of another barrage, sensing the frustration and desperation of the enemy. You were barely breaking a sweat, you’d see his red eyes take notice, and you weren’t even using both of your hands to fight. With another smirk, your Vision then glowed by your side as you raised your arm. The hooded man braced for impact, but instead he felt a force hit his lower half- water current from Childe, and suddenly it solidified to ice upon your avalanche. His hand where the strange device were also covered to render him useless.
An arrow and a spear’s tip was now aimed to his heart. “Well, well, that was a nice fight, Ragnvindr,” you leaned down close enough to see the finer details of his hawk mask, you saw his eyes squint into a glare. He knows he lost. By your side Childe relaxed his arms and dematerialized his bow, the next part should be yours to work on. “Thank you for your dedication, but this atrocity ends now.” You straightened your back and took a step back, angling your spear to his throat. As his eyes close to succumb to death, your head would angle itself slightly to see Childe’s reaction
when a golden flicker appeared past his shoulder.
“CHILDE!” The devil himself felt the air leave his lungs at the force that punched at his chest, enough to immobilize him as he was punted to the ground. Before he could even recover, the pavement around shifted and crumbled to create a wall between him and the frozen Diluc. He heard the ice breaking and two pairs of feet scrambling away. “Fuck, he had an accomplice,” he breathed as he took his stand, about to give chase to the escapees. That is until he registered his mentor-
barely standing with a stalagmite pierced through her stomach.
“Chi...lde.” You gripped the pointed tip of the structure to keep yourself up as your legs started to lose feeling. He was there hovering over you, unsure where to touch or how to assist. Fuck. Fuck. This was his fault. “Go... chase, I’ll be- I’ll be fine...”
And then you blacked out.
vii. seven correspondence
There were multiple parchment of the same color littering his office desk filled with different lengths of paragraphs. Childe's quarters in the palace was cozy and wide, and nothing could be heard but the sound of his fountain pen scratching the surface of the paper with ease.
"Letters are important in Snezhnaya," you perked up from your unfocused gaze from his window, where you silently watched the brewing blizzard manifesting outside. Your eyes made contact with his genuinely gentle ones that still lingered at the task at hand, "why not write one?"
"Letters are commonplace in Snezhnaya," you corrected as you made your way to his side to snoop in his letters. He did not seem to mind. After all you'd pretty much already the whole of his family that one awkward encounter. He was working on the seventh letter and your eyes lingered around the six finished ones: there was one for each younger siblings, one meant for the two older brothers, another for the older sister, and one for his parents. "It's not necessary for me to write, I don't have an address in mind to begin with."
Is that so, he mumbled under his breath before the conversation died down once again to little scratches. A lot of his words had tales to tell about his stay in Fontaine, you realized the most details were poured into the contents for his parents. At the mention of this nation, your hand ghosts over your stomach.
The bandages from long ago had already been dispatched. And yet the stiffness of it has still affected your composure as well as the weird pull of the skin from the stitches. Only a nasty scar was left in its wake to remind you of the failed encounter and it forced you to make drastic wardrobe changes to your performing attire.
You saw Childe's shoulders slightly tense at your action.
"Childe," his grip on the pen tightened yet he kept his head down. You didn't mind. His mind was going overdrive again, probably. "Who are you writing that last letter for?"
He felt like he'd dodged an arrow over the way he had relaxed, slumped down even when he met eyes with better resolution within it. "It's for a special someone," his signature smile was back, "I've met her long ago and I've always made sure to send her a letter yearly as thanks."
Thanks? "Thanks?" The letter (it was short, you realized) was already folded before you could peek at the words within. You knew Childe was good-looking, but for him to have a girlfriend waiting for years as he drowns in his work, quite irrational and yet painful. Painful... to you?
"I've met a girl back when I was 14," he was suddenly up and bustling as he bundled up his letters. Urgent you followed to listen to his tale as best as you can with his long legs. "I never knew her name or her face, but she saved me from the wolves back in Morepesok. I never properly gave her my thanks, so yearly I would leave letters at the woods where she'd gone, and hope that she'll be able to read them and know that I lived because of her." You already halted your advances to chase after him as you stood before the doors of the Palace. He didn't seem to mind, he kept going until he was gone.
...Morepesok was a seaside fishing village with a vast white forest by the edges in which ferocious wolves and bears usually haunt. After your promotion to the Palace, you had never once set foot in the village, much less the woodland. Where you are right now.
You held a steady hand against your stomach as you retraced the familiar route you'd gone, something so far away you would have expected to forget it by now. That was six years ago, you counted as you reached the clearing in horror of its emptiness, there should be six letters here by now.
A snapping twig had you whirling to look behind you. "So, it really was you." His gentle blue orbs had met your widened ones, breathless you both were, but for different reasons.
"So you lied about the letters," the mocking pout on your lips had made him laugh. A sprinkle of red dusts his cheeks, and he was quick to hide it with the familiar letter on his hand.
"I didn't lie about this one," your upturned palms received the crispy envelope, carefully opening the seal and unfolding its contents, "I wanted to make sure I was right."
'Your sacrifice had given me a new chance, a new life, a new beginning. I wish I was there to thank you for protecting me, but this time, I will get stronger and make sure-'
"I'll be the one protecting you from now on." He finished, and the red dust over your own cheeks felt like torches made to melt the mightiest icicles.
viii. fleeting glances
Signora had always been the type of person to only make appearances when necessary, but most of her dirty work were done by her subordinates, her own little army. She's the coordinator and observer at the back as things were weaved into place for her. Like a flower on the wall, the Fair Lady knows and notices details.
The first one was by the entrance, the second was by the veranda. The third, fourth and fifth were by the hallways. The sixth was by the throne room. The seventh was outside. And the eight was that in front of her—
Childe disliked being in the same area or even breathing space as her, this much Signora knew. He was a kid still under training over the ways of the Fatui, but there was nothing more he hated than the way the Fair Lady handles her work, her soldiers. But it came with the aesthetic, and he had no other means to pry until he had finally grasped the way the cogs turn in this organization known as the Fatui.
The youngest Harbinger never looked her directly in the eye or even dare spare her the glance when it was not needed. And in all honesty, it was quite bothersome the first few times. After all, Tartaglia carried with him a certain charm.
His eyes would either narrow or be guarded for any other Harbinger that comes his way, respectful or dismissive, the options fleet through those whenever. But there was one humane and warm look he gives at special occasions, for a special someone, and Signora finally witnessed it in full view and detail—
The crease between his eyebrows would immediately ease as his eyes break free from its squinted, slanted form. The dark depths at the middle would dilate as his expression quirks up, teeth usually visible through parted lips as he dons an easy smile. And Signora would be taken aback by the immediate change as she follows the trail of his stare.
The gold was the first to strike with the way the trinkets hang by the waist, and the warm and mellow colors so contrary to the Fatui colors draws away the unease of onlookers. It was to make sure that no association with the Fatui would be made, that was your calculated explanation was upon your choice of 'uniform.' You've just came from a short trip to Natlan to gather all data to be reported to the Tsaritsa, and during that time the 11th had been under no one's particular care.
You passed by their forms (pass is a strong word, they were off to the far side, honestly) with your report in hand, humming to yourself as you continued your way to the throne room. That demeanor only means that you had good news to tell, good news for everyone.
The glance was gone fast as the moment ended, and his hard look came albeit much lighter this time. But the way Signora smirked signified she'd noticed, and his look only grew stiffer.
"Come now, pretty boy, show that look often."
The Fair Lady's laugh echoed inside the Palace walls as Tartaglia stomps off to where you had gone, to wait after the dusk convention respectfully.
ix. years of employment
Of the many milestones that could have been celebrated, it was done in an odd number at the most peculiar time. Yes, it is no surprise for everyone to know that you had been working for the Fatui for nine whole years now. And honestly, you shouldn't have been surprised that your younger colleague with the weird ways of his Abyss-induced brains, decided that it was time your anniversary be celebrated instead of waiting another year for the double digits mark.
"Please tell me we're not going to your house again," you softly pleaded as Childe continued to guide you through the paths in the main city of Snezhnaya. "As much as I appreciate their caring atmosphere, I'm not too keen on the idea of pretending to be the head honcho of the toy-selling company of Snezhnaya."
To this, Childe guffawed to a boisterous laugh, pulling his hand away from your back to clutch at his convulsing stomach. You pursed your lips in distaste of his reaction, but then it would loosen up to a smile as you watched him still try to catch his breathe.
After that, the trip had continued with only small chatter in between as you descended further to the edges of the city. You haven't been to this area, simply because of the fact that there were no patrols needed around the cityless wasteland where you are headed, and the glint of surprise had fixed a knot at Childe's back. Relief painted his face.
And you found yourself in front of a frozen lake, with hanging lights decorating the leafless trees by it, and a small table filled to the brim with food. "Lady toyseller!" You shot a glare at your student who averted his gaze away easily to focus on his other siblings. This heretic lied—
"Big brother said it's a special occasion! To commemorate your anniversaries for being in the toyselling business!" Your glare died down to a look of confusion, and the family gathered back into a homely atmosphere. So it seems that Childe coincidentally joined the Fatui the same day as you, two years apart. And he said nothing about it.
"We've been celebrating since the last three years, if we had known, you could have been with us!" And with that you were pulled in by Tonia to the table where her mother was, congratulating you for your hardwork and patience as she offers you to taste some of the food they had brought for the picnic.
"I know you've been helping my son ever since he became a Harbinger," you looked up to Childe's mother in wonder as your mouth was currently stuffed with her delicious homemade Pelmeni. She gave a light laugh at the sight of your wide, curious eyes paired with stuffed cheeks. "Childe mentioned how you saved him when he ran away from him..." and the mother continued to spill the details you were never given the chance to hear from the man himself.
You suppose this was the cause of your perfectly crafted aura of trust, to lure in your targets and make them spill to their heart's contents as you indulge them. In the end, Childe's mother's true intention was to thank you for all that you had done for her son, and to help him cultivate into the best person he could be among the ranks of the Harbinger. You gulped the last bits of the dumpling, a shy smile placated on your cheek, "It is my honor to take him under my wing."
"Hey, master, I sure hope mum didn't say anything embarrassing about me while I was gone!" A hand holding a tissue softly wiped the cream at the edge of your lips as Childe- Ajax finally made his way over to your table.
"It's okay, really, it's normal for children to pee their bed." You mused as Childe's mother laughed at the way her son choked over his own spit. Ah, you were right.
The rest of the day was filled with ice-skating, something you have forgotten, clumsily held up by the three younger siblings as they expertly excelled in the field. And right after was a session of ice fishing with their father, who was greatly impressed by your strength upon reeling the 50-centimeter long tuna. Flopping on to the ice platform as if to chase the children on land.
"Don't want to stay? There's a spare room here, you can borrow my big sister's clothes for the night. It's a long way back to the Palace," he stood next to you outside the entrance of his home while you face the other direction.
You sighed. "Tartaglia, I'm your mentor. And as the 10th Harbinger, your ascension should be my priority." You didn't see the way his jaw clenched at the intonations of your words. "If it were a different circumstance-"
"Next week," the snow caught on to your lashes as you closed your eyes, basking at the cold that bites at your cheeks. "Will be my last try. And after that, please see me as your equal."
"Alright." Your hands trembled.
x. final spar
Fatuus lined the veranda surrounding the quadrangle in quiet anticipation, skirmishers and agents alike that had yet to be assigned under Harbinger supervision and even those who just had nothing better to do.
Childe had anticipated the spotlight, but it was a greater scale he was not comfortable on. He was lucky a Harbinger had yet to watch the spar, the last spar as he had promised, and it seemed the gossip had spread enough to alert the whole organization. The Delusion mask sat by the side of his hair as he watched you at the other end of the field.
Your eyes held no emotion as they stared through his soul. A different kind of emotion he'd have wanted to see. He thinks to himself at the thought of you once being in the same predicament as him, did you feel the same fear and worry as he did? Did it take you ten tries? Maybe more, maybe less?
Tartaglia said this will be the last spar, and the final chance for both sides to make it a fair fight (to give it their all). But when you suddenly disappeared and materialized above him with your spear ready to strike, he thought, maybe not this time either.
The spear collided with the dirt floor as blades of winds seem to have exploded from it, a series of gasps resounding through the crowd as they stepped away from the edge. Tartaglia softly landed back on his feet after the successful somersault, materializing his water polearm to strike his elemental slash from the distance. But you stood still, unscathed as the wave that was meant to slice you turned into ice before it could come any closer. Fuck, Tartaglia knew his Vision was weak to yours.
You charged at him once again with the boost of your Anemo delusion, your polearms clashing painfully as you both tried to get hits on each other. There was a nick at this cheek to draw the first blood, your dominant hand twirling the spear easily Tartaglia retreats back to avoid the wildly spinning blade.
Soon enough he dons his own mask and the real fight begins. Electric currents ran through the field as an icy fog starts to envelop the floor, superconduct reaction running the parameter of the field as the Fatuus back away further. The next time your blades meet, a crackle of lightning resounded through the whole palace. Smacking his blades upward, your spear quickly sweeps down to swipe at this ankles, forcing him to leap as the fog obscures the reach of your polearm. Mid-air, he was kicked on the chest as your acrobatic arms held you up and over.
Soon enough his hunger for victory begins to manifest, and his biggest advantage comes into play: overwhelming strength.
Tartaglia felt huge triumph when you finally used both of your hands to parry his blows, your feet sometimes sinking into the dirt floor under the pressure of his attack. For the first time in the fight, your facade cracked with a grimace as you held your polearm up against his dual blades. Quickly leaning away, you brought your foot up and pushed at the spear's shaft, enough to force him back as you leaped out of his range. There was sweat trickling at the back of your neck now, feeling the sizzle of the current on the slight moisture. You swiped your spear in a crescent motion as a snow avalanche bombarded Tartaglia's side when he tried to approach, giving you just enough time to breathe as he tries to free himself under the snow.
By the time he's set himself free, you were already running forwards with your hands gripping your spear at your right for a swiping motion. He fashions his dual blades as he too sprinted in the middle to clash, weapons encased with frost and electricity. In a split second, his arms raised to your left, knowing this was your non-dominant side would make it easy to send you flying at the angle of approach. A powerful blow against another was about to shake the whole Palace—
"Columbina!" The vagrant's voice pierced through the crackle of elements, and Tartaglia's eyes widened when he had noticed your foot slip at the distraction. The inertia of his arms unable to stop the course of action; superconduct and electro-charged reactions creating a powerful explosion as the iced fog seem to have imploded from the force.
Childe's moist hands trembled as his vision tries to refocus. There's a ringing in his ears as he tries to grip at his hands, the electricity coursing through his nerves to make it numb. He desperately closed and opened his fists, and when he finally settled his sights straight, the dripping red liquid had splattered all the way to his mask and arms. With hesitation his sights followed the trail of blood and frost splayed across the field barely visible as the mist still covered the floor with a thin veil, his steps halted at the sound of glass crunching underneath his shoes, and he didn't need to look to know what it was.
"GET THE MEDIC NOW, PREPARE THE INTENSIVE CARE UNIT!" Pedrelino's voice reverbed through the field as the few agents that finally recovered from the shock went into emergency actions, some running off and some running to the direction of where the blood trail ends.
There was an obvious pool of blood forming under you, as your whole torso was littered with the same redness. Your left ribcage was angled inwards in an anomalous way as the dual blades had logged itself in between the ribs. You were already unconscious as blood dripped from the side of your lips;
how unfortunate, Childe collapsed to his knees in front of you. You didn't get to congratulate him.
xi. eleventh of the fatui harbinger
His mission had been explained to him concisely and accurately alongside Signora's assignment right after he had been acknowledged as officially part of the Fatui. The throne room had itself full of the Harbingers (with a glaring absence of one) as the Tsaritsa empowered him with her will and concise plan, the gravity of the law and order of the universe and its incoming divine war finally weighing on his shoulders. It was, after all, his wish to end the ministrations of being under someone's supervision and finally walk his path of conquering.
A month after the fight had him standing by the piers of the Snezhnayan ocean. Here he will finally depart to Liyue where his true mission lays, as well as the franchise of the Northland Bank he'd have to oversee. The influx of information for both his and the other's works had his head reeling, pleading silently at the hope that you'd be there to reassure and clarify what exactly he needs to do.
But you're not. In fact, Childe hasn't seen you in the whole month after that fight. He was prohibited from approaching your ward as you were still unstable and fragile to risk; no, everyone was not allowed to enter, he assured himself. He had not seen nor heard you throughout the grieving process of a moment he should have been proud to boast.
During that time, Childe had also adamantly avoided Scaramouche.
He heaved a tired sigh as the consequences weighed his resolve once again, were you still unconscious? Are you still in critical condition or are you recovering? If things ended ever so differently, would you be there next to him to wave him off to his first major assignment? "Liyue, huh, that's a pretty nice nation."
Childe produced a strangled noise when he turned to his right, where you stood, watching the ocean horizon. Your hair was slightly disheveled yet framed your face naturally. There were bandages wrapped all over your torso, peeking out from the sleeves of your unusually covered attire, and your left arm settled on a sling meant to lessen the constraints of your side instead of sporting an actual broken limb. When Childe's calculating gaze settled on your face, you had a calm expression.
"Congratulations, you're finally on your way to your first mission."
"Thank you, although I heard it's quite different from what I'm used to. Besides seafood, too many new customs."
You produced a soft gasp as your eyes widened slightly. Childe stood guard, waiting for you to tell him what was wrong. "I'm a failure of a mentor," what. His eyes watched as you turned to face him (as he did) with an amused glint in your eyes paired by a light smirk. "I didn't get to teach you how to use chopsticks."
His face dropped into a deadpan, before you two harmonized into bouts of varying laughter. Your other hand placed itself on your chest to minimize the vibrations of your giggles, not wanting to put pain into yourself. A flash of hurt recognition passed through his eyes.
"Master, I'm so-"
"(Y/N)." You immediately interjected as you gazed at him past your eyelashes. His breath hitches.
"Ah, (Y/N)," you nodded at his experimental taste of your name and urged him to continue. He opens his mouth before closing it again, a silent debate within the depths of his brain, before his lips parted with a different thought. "Teach me when I come back, please?"
Your eyes widen in surprise and amusement, "I'm sure you'd pick it up easily."
You're not wrong, but he's adamant. "Nah, I'm sure I wouldn't, I heard they're really a handful. I'd rather wait for you."
Giggling again, you raised your mobile hand as he did own, exchanging the most genuine smile. "Okay, pinky promise?"
"Pinky promise."
I wrote this for two hours straight to the point that my left arm doesn't work anymore....
@moaa @kookieyachi @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @dandelion-dreams @snackgod @rxsalinee
#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact#childe x reader#genshin impact Childe#genshin impact oneshots#exile.flower#sojourner special#female reader#Harbinger#brrrrt
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THINGS YOU MAKE ME DO
Prompt: Inspired by the song Things You Make Me Do by Devil Doll
Word Count: Long-ish
Pairings: Roman Reigns x Reader
Warnings: +18, angst, heart break, manipulation
Editor: @thenightmareismyreality
Tag: @ziasaph , @marlananicole , @akiko-tanaka , @wickedsunfire , @sassymox , @nicolewoo , @saccreigns , @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan , @auawdo , @lustyromantic , @babydee17 , @yungbludjazz360
Notes: This song is amazing, this band is amazing and I missed my main man, so enjoy lol ❤️ If you’d like to check out my other works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😉
I've got a secret plan to love you and I do so night and day
And I always stand right by you, have your back in every way
And you wish that I could save you and I wish that I could too
But if you cause too much pain for me I'll leave if I have to
He stood up from the hotel bed and began to get dressed, and as she stared at his figure, she wondered until when was she going to put up with this
But I think about you constantly all through the night and day
And I toss and turn in bed at night and hope it goes away
But it never does and when I wake and you're not next to me
I remember where you are, I hope your girl forgives me
“Are you leaving already?” She asked
“You know I have to” He looked at her “We can’t have people suspecting this” He motioned to the space between them “I would be fucked if they did” He scoffed
“Excuse me?” She asked, hurt by his lack of emotion “What do you mean by that?” She couldn’t have felt more offended, even if she chose to
“What, Y/N? Look, we fuck every once in a while, we have a good time but that’s it!” He chuckled, as he tied up his sneakers “Don’t try to turn this into something that it isn’t” He stood up
“Like what?” She asked angrily
“You know what? I’ll see you later” He winked, and walked out the door of her hotel room
Do I need you?
You seem to think I do
Can't seem to see through anything that you do
Oh, ooohhh, the things you make me do
Y/N was walking down one of the dark arena hallways, when a pair of strong arms grabbed her from behind, pushing her inside of one of the locker rooms
“Aren’t you gonna talk to me?” He asked, with his lips glued to her ear
“No, and let me go! I have work to do”
“You’ve been ignoring me for three days straight! Why is that, baby?” As his lips made contact with her skin, trailing down her neck
“Roman, just let me go. This is not the place and DEFINITELY not the time”
“I miss you” He whispered “Y/N, baby, you hurt my feelings when you treat me like this” He buried his face in her hair and caressed her body softly
She scoffed “As if you had any”
“Hey” He turned her around so she could face him “What’s the attitude about?” He looked into her eyes, and saw the resentment they held
“Is this because of what I said in your hotel room?” He sighed
“If you know, then why play dumb?” She spat
“C’mon Y/N, I’m sorry, ok?” He hugged her waist “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m an asshole! Please forgive me?” He pouted “Please, baby? I hate when you get mad at me” He begged with his eyes
“You don’t deserve it, you know” She crossed her arms in front of her chest
“Don’t be such a bitter bitch...It’s hotter when you’re MY bitch” He teased
When she tried to hold back a cackle, he knew he had won again
I should know better than to follow your lead wherever you go
Through the raging rivers, stones and alley ways we go
Sometimes I wonder if you really know where you take me to
But your radio is on so loud I can't get through to you
But if everything's ok with you then it's ok with me
You are such a little boy with you're big philosophy
But I'm not a little girl, I am a woman, don't you know?
I'm packing up my toys, I don't want to play anymore
“I don’t want to do this anymore” She said, watching him turn around and get dressed again - as he did every time.
“What are you talking about?” He frowned, as he looked for his shirt
“I don’t want to see you anymore, I’m done with this bullshit”
“You’re breaking up with me?” He laughed, in disbelief
“Well technically, in order to break up with someone you need to be with them in the first place”
“Not this again” He rolled his eyes in annoyance “Why do you always have to get feelings involved, huh? For fucks sake, can’t you ENJOY a one night stand like everybody else?” He threw his hands up in the air
“One night stand?” She widened her eyes in surprise “Do you call fucking almost every night for two years straight a ‘one night stand’ ?”
“Sexually speaking, we couldn't be any more compatible if we tried - so what the fuck do you want me to do? You’re a good fuck to me and I’m a good fuck to you! Why would I search in clubs and bars for something I have next door?” He tugged on his hair out of frustration “I don’t have to date you to like you, Y/N” He sat down beside her on the bed, and caressed her face delicately “You know I like you, don’t you, baby?”
“Yeah I know” She slapped his hand away “You like me when your dick is inside of me”
“Y/N” He sighed
“Get the fuck out” She kicked him on his lower back, in a repeated attempt to shove him out of the bed “Get out!”
“I’m leaving!” He said, grabbing his jacket
“Out!” She threw one of her heels at him, and her aim made it so it nailed him sharply in the hip
“I said I’m fucking leaving” He grabbed the door handle “Crazy bitch!” He said loudly enough for her to hear as he left
But what he didn’t hear were her sobs, which lasted the entire weekend
Do I need you?
You seem to think I do
Can't seem to see through anything that you do
Oh, ooohhh, the things you make me do
Six months had passed. Y/N had transferred to Smackdown, leaving Roman and all of their bitter memories together with Monday Night Raw, and for once in her life, is truly happy. That night, as she approached her car in the parking lot, she spotted none other than Roman himself leaning against the drivers’ door of her vehicle
And how can you smile at me when you know just what you can do
And it's not fair to me cause you know that I can never have you
How can you make me feel so good but then you make me feel so bad
You know that you are the baddest love that I've never had
“Hi, baby” He smiled sheepishly “I missed you” He tried to hug her, but she dismissed him
*It’s not going to be as easy as I thought* He mentally said to himself
“Can I talk to you for a minute? I wanted to apolog-”
“What are you doing here, Roman?” She asked sharply
“I got transferred to Smackdown”
“Good for you” She nodded once and continued “Now, if you excuse me, I’m really tired” She pointed towards her car
“Y/N” He cupped her cheek “Please, just hear me out? I regret everything I did, baby. I mean it! I should have never treated you like that, you don’t deserve it! You’re a beautiful, smart, sexy woman and it was a huge mistake to take you for granted” He brushed his lips softly against hers “Tell me you forgive me, I beg you, please, baby”
“I forgive you and then what? Everything goes back to what it used to be? You treating me like shit? No, Roman. This is not fair to me” She shook her head
“And you’re absolutely right! That will NEVER happen again! I give you my word, baby. Just give me one more chance and I promise I’ll make it up to you” His long fingers stroked the back of her neck lightly, making her miss what they once had.
That was until her phone rang, and the first chords of the Davy Jones Locket song echoed through the parking lot, remembering her of what she had now.
She smiled, as the song continued “No, I have to go” She took his hand off her face and entered the car to go meet the owner of that ringtone.
I've got my own man now, he treats me the way that you never could
And now you're all like "I should’ve, could’ve, would..."
But I'm afraid you've missed the train, you were too busy playing games
And now our story comes to an end, you ain't my lover or my friend
And when I am walking down the aisle oh so happily
Then you'll be saying "it could’ve, should’ve been me."
“Rumor has it, you’re getting married” Roman said, leaning against her office’s door
“Wow, news travels fast in this business, huh?” She answered, not paying too
much attention to him
“Can I see the ring?”
“Why? Want to buy a new one for your wife?” She scoffed
He decided to ignore her tone “Can I know who the lucky guy is?”
“Will it change anything if you do?” She continued to read her papers
“Can you stop answering my questions with other questions?”
“Will you stop asking me personal questions then?”
He chuckled softly “I missed that acid humor of yours”
“What do you want Roman?” She glared at him
“Your happiness” But this time, he meant it
“Now, that’s a bad taste joke” She laughed bitterly
“I know you don’t believe me, but I do”
“Right” She said dismissively
“Can you tell me who it is?”
“I figure, if you know I’m getting married then you also know who the groom is. Why hear old news again?”
“It’s Drew, isn’t it?” He asked defeatedly
She sighed “Yes, Roman. It’s Drew, are you happy now?”
“When is the wedding?”
“October. Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?”
“I need to know how much time I have to kidnap you before you commit the biggest mistake of your life” He joked, but deep down, he meant it
“I’m pretty sure I’ve already committed that one” She said, intentionally making eye contact with him
“I love you, Y/N. Always have”
“You have a funny way of showing it” She murmured
“I’m sorry, babe...but I felt trapped. I didn’t knew how to express what I was feeling and I was so confused” He locked his gaze with hers “I would do everything different now, I swear I would”
She ignored his pleading eyes, and returned her gaze to her paperwork “I’m afraid that time is gone, Roman...There’s nothing left to do”
If you need me, I will not hear thee
Stay away from me, trying to decieve me
Oh, oh, ohhh the things you make me do
Oh the things you'll never make me do
Oh the things you’ll never make me do
Roses are red, violets are blue and so are you
One year later, Y/N is gathering her personal belongings from her office, her pregnancy doesn’t allow her to travel with the company any more, so she’s going to be working only from her home office for the foreseeable future. A knock on her door made her look up
“I heard the stork will be visiting you soon” Roman said
“Yeah, apparently she will”
“How far along are you?” He approached her carefully
“Just turned four months”
“Baby is popping out of nowhere, huh? Until a week ago you had no bump at all, and now” He reached his hand to touch her belly, but stopped midway
“It’s okay, Ro, you can touch it” She encouraged him
He smiled widely and rested his big hand against her tiny bump
“Do you know what you’re having?” He asked softly
“Girl” She smiled brightly “Regan”
“Even got her a name already? Damn baby, you’re fast- Sorry I shouldn’t have called you that” He said weakly
“It’s ok, don’t worry about it” She tried to hide the nostalgia the pet name brought to her
“I wish...” He trailed off
“Don’t. Don’t go there, please”
“You can still run away with me, you know?” He smirked, teasingly
“I’m sure you would look great holding a female version of Drew” She tried to joke
“As long as you birth it, I don’t care who made it. Although I wish it was me” He tried, one last time
“Maybe in another life, Ro” She smirked sadly, as she reached the door
“Do you promise?” He asked
“I’ll see you around” Smiling widely, she made her way out the arena doors, leaving him behind, for the second time (in that life).
But who knows what can happen in the next one?...
Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘
#roman reigns one shot#roman reigns x reader#roman reigns#roman reigns fanfiction#roman reigns imagine#wwe x reader#wwe imagine#wwe fanfiction#wwe one shot#masochist writes#Spotify
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Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 1
So, I started this on my Wattpad, and if figured I'd just put it on here! Just tell me if you want me to add you to the taglist!
Percy's POV
My name is Percy Jackson.
I am twelve years old. I'm a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York, and my sister, (Y/n), taking online schooling at home.
Am I a troubled kid?
Yeah. You could say that.
I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan—twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.
I know—it sounds like torture. Most Yancy field trips were.
But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.
Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.
I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble.
See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course, I got expelled anyway. And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that...Well, you get the idea.
On this trip, I was determined to be good.
All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.
Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.
Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwiches that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation. The headmaster had threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.
"I'm going to kill her," I mumble.
Grover tries to calm me down. "I'm okay. I like peanut butter -" He dodges another piece of Nancy's lunch.
"That's it." I start to get up, but Grover pulls me back to my seat.
"You're already on probation," he reminds me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."
Mr. Brunner leads the museum tour.
He rides up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.
It blows my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.
He gathers us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and starts telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.
Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.
From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.
One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."
Mr. Brunner keeps talking about Greek funeral art.
Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickers something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turn around and say, "Will you shut up?"
It comes out louder than I meant it to.
The whole group laughs. Mr. Brunner stops his story. "Mr. Jackson," he says, "did you have a comment?"
My face is totally red, I think. I answer, "No, sir."
Mr. Brunner points to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"
I look at the carving, and feel a flush of relief, because I actually recognize it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"
"Yes," Mr. Brunner says, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because..."
"Well..." I rack my brain to remember. (Y/n) would have known the answer. She was nuts for this kind of stuff. "Kronos was the king god, and —"
"God?" Mr. Brunner asks.
"Titan," I correct myself. "And...he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—"
"Eeew!" says one of the girls behind me.
"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continue, "and the gods won."
Some snickers from the group.
Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbles to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"
"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner says, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"
"Busted," Grover mutters.
"Shut up," Nancy hisses, her face even brighter red than her hair.
At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.
I think about his question, and shrug. "I don't know, sir."
"I see." Mr. Brunner looks disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"
The class drifts off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.
Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."
I knew that was coming.
I tell Grover to keep going; then I turn toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?" Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go—intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything. "You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner tells me.
"About the Titans?"
'"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."
"Oh."
"What you learn from me," he says, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."
I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!" and challenged us, swordpoint against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C– in my life. No—he didn't expect me to be as good; he expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.
I mumble something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner takes one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.
He tells me to go outside and eat my lunch.
The class gathers on the front steps of the museum, where we can watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.
Overhead, a huge storm is brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figure maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.
Nobody else seems to notice, though. Some of the guys are pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit is trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds isn't seeing a thing.
Grover and I sit on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.
"Detention?" Grover asked.
"Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a genius, not like (Y/n). She seems to know everything."
Grover doesn't say anything for a while. Then, when I think he is going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he asks, "Can I have your apple?"
I don't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.
I watch the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and think about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sit. I hadn't seen her or my sister since Christmas. I want so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. Mom and (Y/n) would hug me and be glad to see me, but Mom would be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I couldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.
Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized café table.
I am about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appears in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumps her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.
"Oops." She grins at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles are orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.
I try to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I am so mad my mind went blank. A wave roars in my ears.
I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy is sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"
Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.
Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"
"—the water—"
"—like it grabbed her—"
I don't know what they were talking about. All I know is that I was in trouble again.
As soon as Mrs. Dodds is sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turns on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—"
"I know," I grumble. "A month erasing workbooks." That wasn't the right thing to say.
"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds says.
"Wait!" Grover yelps. "It was me. I pushed her."
I stare at him, stunned. I can't believe he was trying to cover for me. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.
She glares at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.
"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she says.
"But—"
"You—will—stay—here."
Grover looks at me desperately.
"It's okay, man," I tell him. "Thanks for trying."
"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barks at me. "Now."
Nancy Bobofit smirks. I give her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. Then I turn to face Mrs. Dodds, but she isn't there. She is standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.
How'd she get there so fast?
I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.
I wasn't so sure. I go after Mrs. Dodds.
Halfway up the steps, I glance back at Grover. He is looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner is absorbed in his novel.
I look back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She is now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.
Okay, I think. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop.
But apparently, that wasn't the plan.
I follow her deeper into the museum. When I finally catch up to her, we are back in the Greek and Roman section.
Except for us, the gallery is empty.
Mrs. Dodds stands with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She is making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.
Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze as if she wanted to pulverize it...
"You've been giving us problems, honey," she says.
I do the safe thing. I reply, "Yes, ma'am."
She tugs on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"
The look in her eyes is beyond mad. It was evil.
She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me. I say, "I'll—I'll try harder, ma'am."
Thunder shakes the building.
"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."
I didn't know what she's talking about.
All I can think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.
"Well?" she demands.
"Ma'am, I don't..."
"Your time is up," she hisses.
Then the weirdest thing happens. Her eyes begin to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretch, turning into talons. Her jacket melts into large, leathery wings. She isn't human. She is a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.
Then things got even stranger.
Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheels his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.
"What ho, Percy!" he shouts and tosses the pen through the air.
Mrs. Dodds lunges at me.
With a yelp, I dodge and feel talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatch the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hits my hand, it isn;t a pen anymore. It is a sword—Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always uses on tournament day.
Mrs. Dodds spins towards me with a murderous look in her eyes.
My knees are jelly. My hands are shaking so bad I almost drop the sword.
She snarl, "Die, honey!" And she flies straight at me.
Absolute terror runs through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swing the sword.
The metal blade hits her shoulder and passes clean through her body as if she was made of water. Hisss!
Mrs. Dodds was a sandcastle in a power fan. She explodes into yellow powder, vaporizing on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes are still watching me.
I'm alone.
There is a ballpoint pen in my hand.
Mr. Brunner isn't there. Nobody is there but me.
My hands are still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.
Had I imagined the whole thing?
I walk back outside.
It had started to rain.
Grover is sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit is still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she sees me, she says, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."
I answer, "Who?"
"Our teacher. Duh!"
I blink. We don't have a teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I ask Nancy what she is talking about.
She just rolls her eyes and turns away.
I ask Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.
"Who?" he asks, but he pauses first and he wouldn't look at me, so I figure he was messing with me.
"Not funny, man," I tell him. "This is serious."
Thunder booms overhead.
I see Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book as if he'd never moved.
I go over to him.
He looks up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."
I had Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.
"Sir," I ask, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"
He stares blankly at me, "Who?"
"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."
He frowns and sits forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"
Word Count: 3159 words
So yeah, this is the first chapter of this book.
Not much (Y/n) yet, but we'll get there.
Love y'all!
Kaitlynn ❤️😍
#percy jackson x sister reader#sally jackson x daugther reader#demigod reader#fem reader#reader insert#percy jackson and the heroes of olympus#percy jackson and the lightning thief reader insert#percy jackson and the battle of the labyrinth#percy jackson and the titans curse#percy jackson and the lightning thief#percy jackson and the greek gods#percy jackson and the sea of monsters#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson and the olympians reader insert
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The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU)
“Step inside, see the Devil in I”
Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.
In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.
“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”
Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x OC
Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)
Tag List: @nydeiri
Notes: This is my first RES fic, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a bit. English is also not my main language, so a mistake or two may happen. I hope you enjoy it :)
Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.
Eastern Europe - July, 2009
"If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"
Mother closed the book, placing it on the bedside table between Auryk's bed and mine. Then, she lowered herself and kissed my forehead like she did every night. Her long, blonde hair tickled my face and left a trace of her sweet lavender fragrance in the air. I giggled.
"Good night, sweetheart," she spoke.
"Good night, momma."
"Cherish your last night as a six years old. Tomorrow you will become a..."
"Princess?!"
"A seven years old girl. The prettiest girl in the village."
"Pffft," Auryk let out a displeased grunt from his bed, covering his head with the pillow to avoid listening another word from the conversation.
"And you too," mother sat by his side on the bed and repeated her nightly ritual of kissing his forehead to wish him a good night too. "You'll become the most handsome and brave warrior in this village. Do you understand?"
"I hope so. Good night, mom."
"Good night, buddy."
Mother left the room, leaving us both in the dark. However, we couldn't sleep. Not because we were thrilled about our incoming birthday party as any regular child, but because we knew our lives were about to change. Seven years old was the age every child from our village was introduced to the truth and started being trained to fight the evil that haunted our lands. Auryk and I spent minutes, or maybe hours, in silence, staring at the ceiling.
"Leena?" He was the first one to speak. "Do you believe a spell can broken? I mean, like a curse?"
"I don't know, Ryk," I answered, feeling my thoughts starting to drift away. "Maybe we're doomed after all. Or... we could learn how to love the beasts."
The birthday parties always happened during the daytime, rules of the village. We could no longer be outside after 6 PM. Mother got help from the other women to prepare the treats and organize the decorations. Auryk was disguised as a pirate and I... I was Belle, from the Beauty and the Beast.
"So, what do you think you will be getting this year?" My best friend Elena asked while we were playing with our dolls. She was about two years older than us.
"I don't know," I shrugged. Being a merchant, my father always returned home with the most unusual gifts: a magical music box, a voodoo doll that had a life on its own or a fragrance that chased away the monsters - and everybody else too. "A new book. I'm hoping for a new book."
It was only by the end of the party Adrian Novak made his entrance. That was the mystery about him. Nobody knew when he would show up, or if he would show up at all. He still had that same annoying smirk on his face. The corner of his mouth holding a cigarette. The months away made his beard grow longer, as well as his dark hair. In the sunlight, the scar above his eye was even more visible.
"Auryk," he shouted, "come here, son. I've got something for ya."
My twin brother, who had been climbing trees with his friends stop frozen in spot for a second. I couldn't tell if he hated or feared that man. Maybe both. He slowly followed father's command, approaching him cautiously.
"Hi, dad."
"Happy birthday, son," father ruffled his dark straight hair with his strong and calloused hand. "It's about time you grow up."
He handed my brother a large package. From our experience, we knew exactly what it was, a shotgun.
"T-Thank you, dad."
"I'll be spending some time at home. Tomorrow we'll start practicing."
Auryk consented. He shot me a quick glance. From our twin bond I could tell my brother was far from happy. When he blew his candles that afternoon, he didn't wish for a weapon. We wished to be a normal child.
"What did you get, Leena?" He asked once we were locked in the safety of our bedroom.
"Pencils and a drawing book. Dad thinks I'm talented."
Not really. Adrian Novak would never allow his daughter to hold a shotgun. That was, according to him, 'a man thing'.
"Good, at least one of us got what they wanted. Happy birthday, sister."
"Happy birthday, brother."
4 Years Later - October, 2013
It wasn't easy to be the weakest of the twins. Although he was born first, Auryk was the tinniest. The one who was always getting sick or getting injured. The one who couldn't hit a single fucking target when he had the alcoholic breath of his father on his neck.
He aimed for a crow, sitting still on a fence. How hard could it be? Even the eldest man from the village could do any better than that.
BANG! He shot again. And missed.
"Again?!" Adrian angered, shoving him hard on the shoulder. "What the hell is your problem, kid?"
"I don't know, okay? This gun... it's heavy!"
"Heavy? And why do you think we've been exercising for all these years, huh?! We do not live in Disneyland, Auryk. We need to fight monsters, abominations. Someday I won't be home and you need to be prepared to protect our people. Do you understand?"
Tears started forming in the corners of the boy's blue eyes. He couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Crying was a sign of weakness and he couldn't be weak. Not right now. Auryk started to think about all the things he could be doing. He thought about the ocean, as he had seen on TV and books. He could feel the warmness of the sun on his skin. The sand between his toes. His mom and sister were also there, of course - they'd carry them with him everywhere. And he would study Math and Physics. There would be no guns, no monsters, no blood, only numbers, only formulas, only theories. He smiled. He no longer felt like crying.
"I'm sorry, dad," kindness was always the answer, his mother said. "But this isn't for me, you know? I don't like it. I... Remember that boarding school my teacher mentioned? I thought maybe I..."
His words were interrupted by a hard slap on his face. Auryk could taste a small amount of blood coming out from his lower lip.
"So that's what you want? To become one of those little fancy fags? Maybe you're not my son after all."
Adrian started walking away, leaving his son alone, sitting on the floor.
"I AM!" Auryk yelled, enraged. "I am your son."
"Then prove it."
"You shouldn't take so hard on him," Savannah poured her husband a cup of tea. "He's just a boy."
"He's eleven years old, for god's sake," the husband punched the table strong enough to make it shake. "He needs to man up a bit. You should stop spoiling him."
As I left my bedroom I found my brother sitting on the stairs. He didn't have to be so close to listen to the conversation between our parents, father's voice was loud enough to echo through every wall of our small and cozy home.
I sat down by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"Maybe you should do it, Leena. You'd do it better, I know."
"I'm not so sure. Remember when I tried to shoot a scarecrow and almost shot that old witch?"
"Come on, you aimed on purpose! I know."
Auryk finally let out a small laugh at the memory.
"You're good at everything, Leena," he spoke fondly. "You're an extrovert, you're everybody's friend, you can cook, you can draw and paint... you're a true artist. I'm a mistake."
"You're not a mistake, Ryk," I pulled my brother closer, resting my cheek against the side of his face. "We're only at the wrong place and you know it."
Going back to our bedroom, we pulled from the drawers the postcards our grandma Louise sent us from San Diego. Mom had been born in California and lived there her entire life, until she met father during one of his trips. God knows what made her fall in love with that man. Adventure? Danger? I expected better from myself when I turned eighteen. Otherwise, I'd never want to fall in love. Love could be my ruin, just like my mom's.
"Leena..." Auryk held the postcard tightly, "do you think... if he died... do you think mom would take us to nana's home?"
"I don't know, Ryk," I didn't want to think of my father's possible death. But I also dreamed of a better life. "Maybe."
"What the hell?" Father's voice in the kitchen made me jump in fear. I knew that tone. I grew up used to that. Something was wrong in the village. We had to hide.
"To the basement, now!" He emerged at the bedroom, holding a rifle. "Lycans were seen surrounding the area."
We barely had any time to react, mom came and dragged us both to the basement. Father left, carrying his arsenal of weapons as usual. There were other hunters in the village but we always knew how badly it could end. Somebody could always get seriously hurt. Or worse.
The basement had been carefully prepared for that kind of situation years before. It had a big bed, two armchairs, a heating source, some stored food and a shelf. Mom sighed and forced a smile.
"So," she walked to the shelf, "what is it going to be today?"
"Frankenstein," Auryk suggested. My brother loved mystery and horror. As if his life hadn't enough of it.
"Romeo and Juliet," I spoke. There was something about forbidden romance that always caught my interest.
"Okay. I... I'm gonna say a prayer and you two can read the books you picked by yourselves. What do you think?"
"Great!"
Mom kneeled down by the bed's side, holding a crucifix. I could join her if I wanted to, but I'd rather watch in silence. I grabbed my book, sitting on one of the armchairs and pretending to pay attention, while I tried to distract myself from the fact my father could be the Lycans' next prey. Or all of us, if they managed to break into our house.
"Leena?" I woke up hours later with my mom shaking me. "Leena?! Where's Auryk? Where's your brother, Leena?"
I had no idea. I had fallen asleep and apparently, so did mom. She checked for the basement's door, it had been locked from outside.
"No..." she tried to force it open. "No! I can't be..."
All Auryk had to do was to successfully kill and take a Lycan's carcass as a trophy to his father, right? That was what that old douchebag wanted him to do, to prove his courage, his manhood. We had his shotgun, a binoculars and a knife, that should be enough, but first, he needed a good plan.
Looking down to his hands, he had the most perfect idea. Without thinking twice, he sliced a cut through his palm, letting some blood pour on the ground. Then, he found a tall tree. He climbed it and observed. The smell of blood his trail left behind should be enough to attract a creature.
"Come on... come on..."
From a distance, Auryk could hear the sound of destruction and death. There was a battle going on somewhere nearby. Once again Lycans should have found a family or a group of hunters.
And then, he could hear it. The heavy footsteps, the screeching sounds, the sniffing. The mutant creature was only a few meters away from the tree. He aimed, but it was still too distant. He needed to move to a closer branch.
It all happened in one second. He was almost there, reaching for the spot he had picked, but his weight was too much for the tree's branch. In a blink of an eye, he was lying on the ground. His vision was blurred. His head hurt intensely, as well as his arm. It was broken for sure. He possibly had a concussion too. He tried to stand up and run but his legs wouldn't follow his commands. The Lycan was coming straight at him.
"AURYK!" His mother screamed behind him. "NO!"
Time seemed to freeze in that fraction of second. How did she manage to escape the basement? How could she have found him?
But without hesitation, Savannah threw herself on top of her son, protecting him from the jaws and claws of the monster. Auryk couldn't see much, but he could smell it. He could feel it. Blood. There was blood everywhere. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, he or his mom's.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
A fast sequence of shots suggested the hunters had found them. The creature stopped moving, stopped howling. It was finally dead.
"M-Mom... it's dead. We... We're safe."
She didn't answer. Instead, he heard another familiar voice.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" It was from his father. "Savannah! Savannah!"
"D-Dad..." Auryk tried to speak, but the words got lost along the way. "I... I..."
Adrian lifted him by his jacket, holding him inches above the ground.
"YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED YOUR MOM, YOUR STUPID BASTARD!"
"I..." tears streamed down the boy's face, his injured brain trying to process what had just happened. "I'm sorry.'
After he was thrown back to the ground, he was hit with a hard kick on his stomach. He turned his head around to notice a small figure hiding behind a tree, watching the whole scene in pure horror.
"L-Leena..." he muttered.
"This is all your fault, Auryk. You're a disgrace to this family."
And then, he passed out. Rumors said he was unconscious for days or maybe weeks. When he woke up, he wished everything had been a nightmare.
Present Days - July, 2021
Nobody mourned Adrian Novak when he died. Not his children. Not his village mates. No human being would ever feel any sympathy for a man who abused and blamed his eleven years old son for his mother's death. It had been two years since Adrian left this world and I couldn't feel any more free.
"Hey," I left another message on my brother's voicemail, "in case you've forgotten it's our birthday today. I'd like to have my twin home, you know? Call me when you get this message."
It was useless, I knew. Auryk would only pick up his phone when he wanted to. Or when he was too drunk. God knew where that guy would be at that time, probably waking up at some girl's bed or getting some rest from... working.
After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I checked the door's mat. Bills, bills, newspaper and... California Institute Of Arts? I remember having an argument with Auryk about this matter at some point. He wanted me to fill the application and send them my portfolio. I insisted we had no money, not even to pay for the tuition. I won - I always win every argument by the way.
"Your damn son of a..." I placed the envelope on the kitchen's table. I was a coward, I confess. However, I didn't know which pain was worse - to be sure I wasn't good enough or to be sure I was, indeed, but I'd never have money to leave that hellhole. Anyways, I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to do.
My morning routine: to go to the middle of the woods and do some training. My father used to say fighting wasn't a girl thing, but I was no regular girl. And never in this life I'd allow someone to tell me what to do.
After running, climbing and doing a set of push-ups, it was time for combat training. Travelers from abroad taught me some different set of moves, I'd like to think I created my own fighting style. I was also very good with knifes, daggers or any kinds of short blades, they were useful during a close distance combat. My shooting was a work in progress, once or twice I'd miss the center of my handmade targets.
Then, like everyday, I'd go back home, shower and follow to my shift at the village's pub.
"Hiya, Leena," Gustav greeted me when I arrived. "I heard today is a special day... the day a little girl..."
"NO!" I stopped him. Gustav was my best friend. We had known each other since we were children and somehow, he liked to make my birthday a special - and embarrassing - event.
He placed a handmade fairytale-like book on the table. There were some edited pictures, mixed with some messed up drawings about my birth and childhood. He called it 'The Princess Who Carried The Light'.
"God, you're soooo stupid..." I rolled my eyes and moaned, before wrapping him into a very tight hug. "I love you, you know that?"
"I know. You'd probably marry me, if you weren't into girls."
We laughed together, as Olga, our boss emerged from the kitchen, bringing a cake with nineteen candles.
"Here's to another year," the older woman opened a wrinkled smile, "make a wish, my darling."
I fell pensive for a moment, besides having my twin brother back home, safe and sound, what else could I wish for? California, that scholarship, a new life... that's for sure.
"I wish for... a new life, a new adventure," I pronounced aloud while blowing the candles.
"Careful," a male voice spoke behind me, "words have power, little sister. You may get what you want."
"Ryk!"
I jumped straight to my brother's arms. I could swear that in only a few weeks he had gotten a little bit taller, and stronger too.
"I wouldn't miss my own birthday, right?" He smirked. "So, where's the cake? Please, chocolate... tell me it's chocolate."
"Your silly boy," Olga spread some icing on his nose. "Of course it's chocolate, as you love. And with cherries too."
Auryk responded with a satisfied smile. Olga and her husband, Kristoff, were those responsible for taking care of him after the Lycan attack, years ago. They sort of adopted him like one of their biological children.
"Oh!" The woman exclaimed taking a closer look at Ryk's forearm. He had gotten a tattoo. I hadn't been informed of those news either. Apparently, my brother had more secrets than I could even start to imagine. "This is... new. It seems like my kids are really growing up."
"And only now you noticed that, Olga?" Gustav joked.
Olga shook her head, grinning at herself and returned to the kitchen. The customers were starting to fill the pub. I stared at Ryk again, wondering what other secrets my brother could be keeping.
"So, what does that mean?" I pointed to his newly gotten tattoo, a strange and ancient symbol it seemed.
"Protection from the evil. This is what we need the most in our lives, especially in a place like this. What reminds me -" we turned around, taking a small box from the pocket of his jacket. "Your gift."
I took the black velvet box from his hands, it contained a golden necklace with a magenta gemstone as pendant. My blue eyes drowned themselves in the stone. It had a mysterious glow. Something hypnotizing. Something magical.
"Whoa..." was everything my mouth could pronounce. "And I bought you an Astronomy book."
Auryk stood up from his chair and went behind me, taking the necklace from my hands to wear it around my neck himself.
"This is supposed to protect you from any supernatural and inhumane beings. I won't lose you to them, Aleena. Not like I lost mom."
"Ryk, I... I can't even thank you enough."
"You don't have to. Just... stay alive."
First, I was overflowing with happiness. It either had to do with the fact my brother was home, alcohol, or both. Also, Olga should thank me. Most of the costumers of the day only stopped by the bar because of me. They absolutely loved me and knowing it was my birthday, they had to come and see me. A few of them even gave me some extra tips or a small gift, which was even greater.
"Okay, party girl..." Auryk helped me to get inside of the house as I tripped over the door mat. "Time to go to bed now. Don't you think?"
"Come on, Ryk! Have some spirit! You're home, Olga gave me the day off tomorrow, I earned some money..."
"You told Mrs. Hansen you secretly had a crush on her daughter during Middle School, you danced on top of a table, you're gonna get a hangover..."
"Party pooper!"
I threw myself at the couch. Auryk stood in front of me with arms crossed, looking like a father about to give his child a lecture.
"What?!" I yelled. "It's not like you've never been drunk before. Remember when you stole Adrian's..." I started to laugh, remembering the episode.
"When you were going to tell me about this, Leena?" He showed me the envelope. The Art Institute envelope. The one I had been struggling to open.
"Oh! I forgot. My bad, I didn't open it myself yet. I probably didn't get in anyways."
"You did."
I did?
"It's not like we have money to pay for my tuition. Also, how are we supposed to move to California, Ryk? I work at a pub and you..."
"I've gotten more than enough for that. You know that getting out of this place has always been the plan, since we were children. Leena, I've done some big jobs those last few months. I have the money to grant us a comfortable life in California."
"Smuggling, Ryk!" I raised my voice, saying aloud the information that was supposed to be a secret or not. "You've been stealing to grant us this life."
My brother stared at me in silence. I couldn't tell if he felt offended or embarrassed about my words.
"I'm getting out of here, whatever it takes," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "And you are coming with me. In two weeks, we move to United States for your enrollment."
"But..."
What I was trying to protest against? Leaving the village and starting a new life with my brother was everything I always dreamed.
"Look, I promise you," Auryk placed both of his firm hands on my shoulders, "once we settle down, no more smuggling."
"Okay," I sighed. "We leave in two weeks then."
There was a loud knock on the door. Being drunk as I was, I figured out I should have forgotten my purse at the pub. Or it could be a neighbor with some very stupid emergency.
Auryk opened the door and there was a strange looking man standing there. We wore sunglasses and a hat, behind his back he was carrying a giant hammer. According to the rumors and stories I heard from my parents, that was one of the Lords of The Four Houses, Karl Heisenberg.
"Auryk Novak?" He asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Come with me, kid. You've gotten yourself in big trouble."
#resident evil village#resident evil 8#bela dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#bela x oc#resident evil fanfiction#the devil in i
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SAVE ME | KTH (11)
Summary: You were determined to kill yourself, but what would happen when instead of ending your life, you ended up summoning the devil of death?
Alternatively:
The Devil: I’m here to ruin you, I’m here to save you.
Genre: Demon au, e2l, angst, fluff, roommate au
Pairing: Devil!Taehyung x Doctor!Reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: mention of death, kissing, and blood.
SERIES: CHAPTER 10 | CHAPTER 12
*unedited*
The sad thing about carrying the burden of guilt was that you felt as though you didn't deserve to experience good things.
"Who said you have to experience good things?"
The crease on Taehyung's forehead implied that he was looking for an answer, causing you to bite the inside of your cheek.
You honestly had no idea how to answer him.
"Let's just go home, Tae," you said after a long minute of silence.
It was better to give up when you were uncertain, sadly Taehyung was persistent. He wouldn't stop until you gave him an answer.
"You know you're being too hard on yourself, right?" His grip on your forearm was gentle, yet his tone was harsh.
"You know where I stand," your lips were pursed into a straight line. "I don't deserve to see him."
Him.
Him as in your father, or to be exact: your father's grave.
You and Taehyung were currently at Seoul cemetery to finally visit Cha Areum's grave. This was the very first time you went here.
You didn't have the courage to do so back then. However when things between you and Jeongguk started to get better, you realized that maybe it wasn't so bad to face your fear.
But fear was not the same with uncertainty.
Taehyung was suggesting that you should visit your father's grave as well. He said bringing flowers and trying to talk to him while you looked at his headstone might help you to somehow lessen the sadness caging your chest.
You answered him by saying that you were uncertain.
Uncertain if you deserve to experience good things.
Having the chance to talk to your father—even though it was only by pretending as if he could hear you from six feet under—was a form of redemption, like a way to free yourself from guilt of not trying to contact him when he was still alive.
You didn't want that because it would make you to feel better about yourself and feeling better about yourself was similar to experiencing good things.
Again, you felt like you didn't deserve to feel good things.
You didn't even think you deserve to mourn him.
You weren't like Jeongguk. You didn't get to be with your father and you most certainly didn't make him happy.
You didn't make your father happy so it was only fair that guilt was eating you alive.
Except you didn't think that. Deep down, you knew that it was unfair.
When the person you didn't get along with died before you did, other people would accuse you of being hypocritical if they saw that you felt bad.
You would also be left with a pang of regret because you didn't treat the now dead person better when they were still alive.
They didn't treat you better too. So why? Why were you the only one suffering? Why were you the only one left here to dwell on regret?
You hated that this was how the world worked. Couldn't bygones be bygones? Couldn't you really mourn your own father?
But most importantly, you hated that there wasn't any closure between you and your father.
You didn't get the chance to apologize.
And now that Taehyung was giving you the chance to say how sorry you were to your father, you were acting up—thinking that you didn't deserve to technically be 'forgiven'
It was all so confusing.
But you were more confused as to why Taehyung implied that you indeed didn't deserve to experience good things.
Was his reason the same as yours?
Well, it wasn't. Taehyung explained what he thought.
"You know what I come to love and hate about humans?"
You shook you head. You didn't know.
Taehyung pouted his lips, he was trying to light the candle placed on Areum's headstone.
You didn't see the point since the wind was blowing hard.
"It is their goal to always be happy." He groaned when the wind harshly extinguished the fire of the candle again.
He lit another match, refusing to give up.
"Humans are always striving to be happy," he repeated once more. Same thought, different words used.
He claimed that he loved this since he could use this unending desire to tempt them. But Taehyung also hated it because of the discontentment they felt despite having everything provided to them.
Humans didn't have any satisfaction, always aiming for better and greater things.
"Is that wrong?" You arched your brow.
"No." The devil lit another match. "I guess it's just tiring."
You felt like everyone around you kept on speaking things you didn't understand.
Were they complicated or were you just slow?
"Don't you feel tired? You always say you don't deserve good things, but really—" He momentarily stopped lighting the candle just to look at you.
"—it's futile. You associate good things with being happy, right? So what if you just stop." Taehyung dropped the box of matches.
"Stop trying to strive for good things. What if instead of happiness, you just simply seek what's tolerable?"
It was the first time you clearly understood someone without asking them to explain any further.
But he still did. He continued speaking his mind.
"You don't always have to be happy to say that you are living 'the life,' sometimes it's better to just aim for something that is not happy nor sad. As long as you can bear something, it should be enough, right?"
You honestly had no idea why such words were coming from a devil like him.
Was he possessed?
But wait—“Are you telling me to stop classifying things?"
"That's not what I said—oh." Taehyung smiled when he realized what you meant.
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."
If you didn't categorize what felt good and what felt bad, you wouldn't have to worry about the guilt you felt.
You would just do things because that's what felt right.
Visiting your father was something right.
You owed it to him, not to yourself.
You were apologizing for him and not for yourself.
"For someone who claimed to be the devil, you sure act a lot like you're human," you shook your head, a smile gracing your lips.
You appreciated the things he said even though you knew that he was only doing this to save himself. He probably learned all of this by reading books on how to deal with a suicidal person.
"Whatever," Taehyung rolled his eyes at you. "So what now? Do you wanna visit your father?"
"Probably. But not now,"
Busan was far from Seoul. You would need more than a day if you went there. That's not possible at the moment since you were aware that you had used all of your emergency and vacation leave.
It's about time you stop abusing your privilege as the niece of the owner of Cornelia Hospital.
Unless...
"You can teleport us to Busan, right?"
Taehyung's face crumpled.
"Yeah, about that..." He averted your gaze. "I can't."
"Why?" Was he lying? You had seen him teleport multiple times already.
"Because..." He was crossing his arms as if he was annoyed. "I'm powerless now."
Taehyung explained that it’s because he used all of his power to heal Cha Eun Hye and erase some of her memories from months ago.
"I thought you can only tempt people?"
You were confused. He said devils couldn't harm people without the permission of God.
"Yes, but we can erase memories of people when the reason why it happened was because of us," Tae caressed your left shoulder. "Cha Eun Hye isn't lying, you know? She isn't blaming you for what happened to Areum. She only said those mean things to you because I fed her with lies,"
Taehyung thought that it was only fair to erase those bad memories. This was the reason why Areum's mom kept calling you to make sure you were alright. She had been treating you as if you were her daughter.
She cared for you.
You didn't understand before why she was acting like that, but now you knew.
Mrs. Cha Eun Hye was a good person.
"The last time I used my power was when I teleported your brother back to your apartment. I considered erasing his memories because I know it isn't fair to drag him into my world,"
You agreed. All hell broke loose when Taehyung informed you that Jeongguk knew that the former was a devil.
You were so mad at Taehyung that day, luckily he convinced you that it would benefit your brother since he wouldn't be confused as to why Park Jimin was looking after him.
It all worked out in the end. Jeongguk called you yesterday to say that he was having a good time at Bangtan University. The presence of Park Jimin made his stay there even more fun.
"But I can't use my power anymore because—"
Taehyung wasn't able to finish what he was saying because instead of words, it was blood that came out of his mouth.
"Oh, my God!" Your eyes widened.
Your instinct as a doctor got the best in you. Panic and fear weren't in your system. You only did what you needed to do to help stop the pain he was going through.
"I'm okay," the devil said, stopping you from aiding him.
"This is okay." And then he gestured at his mouth.
You stopped to listen to him.
He explained that he had been going through this for months already. It was normal because he hadn't been back to hell for almost a whole year now.
Taehyung really spent his days by your side. Aside from this, he also hadn't collected any souls since his life connected with yours.
His power came from doing evil things, so now that he's acting like a good boy, his power was diminishing.
"So what should you do now?" You put your hands on your hips. "Do you need to tempt people? Or..." Your eyes dilated.
"Don't tell me you have to collect souls!?" This thought scared you.
You didn't think you could stomach the fact that he had to urge people to kill themselves.
"Nah," luckily Taehyung only let out a hearty laugh at your assumptions.
"It's true that I can just tempt someone, but I can also just give into one of the capital vices,"
The seven deadly sins were evil so it shall do the trick.
"Oh yeah?" The corner of your mouth quirked up. The worry you felt turn to mischief.
At least he didn't have to collect souls.
"What's your vice, then?"
Taehyung took in your appearance. He noticed your furrowed brow, your playful smirk, and the fact that you were just so...
...Beautiful.
"Greed." He simply said, void of any emotion.
You swallowed hard.
"Greed for?" You inched towards him.
Taehyung ran his tongue through his lower lip. Without a warning, he encircled his hands on your waist, pulling your body closer to him.
It caused you to let out a gasp, though he could tell that you weren't really surprised.
You wanted this.
You were playing with fire.
The look you two were exchanging was full of fire too, and this very moment made Taehyung smirk.
It was funny.
Funny that he had to associate bible verse and logic when he was trying to figure out why he wanted to save you.
But as it turned out, he only needed common sense.
What he felt towards you was simple. It was in his nature as the devil after all.
Greed.
Taehyung didn't just care for you.
Taehyung also wanted you.
It was proven to be true by his strong greed to hold your hand, the greed to be with you, the greed to see you, and the greed to...
"Kiss you,"
There was no time to process things.
Taehyung crashed his mouth against yours, finally giving into his vice.
You tasted sweet, just like he had expected.
You also tasted fire, something that was making his body felt hot.
You tasted like wine, making him feel drunk on happiness.
He was the hypocrite here.
He hated humans for always wanting more, but he was just like them—always craving more.
Taehyung craved you and boy he could only hope that you craved him too.
He didn't have to hope actually, at least not when you decided to kiss him back.
It was clear.
You were greedy too.
#ficswithluv#kim taehyung#taehyung fanfic#bts taehyung#taehyung x you#taehyung x oc#taehyung x y/n#taehyung x reader#taehyung fluff#taehyung angst#taehyung series#taehyung devil au#devil taehyung#demon taehyung#taehyung fantasy au#taehyung roommate au#roommate taehyung
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So my brain made it's own weird realization that tommy (based on how just realizing dream visited to watch him brought color back to his eyes) would actually be more likely to cope with trauma grian style.
Also my brain found the perfect song for tommy in a him v. Tubbo "you've been brainwashed come back home" confrontation. The song is the acoustic version of set it off's dancing with the devil. Here's the lyrics so you can see why...
Life's too short to be dancing with the Devil
Life's too short to be dancing with the Devil
(he's so done with this war and drama crap)
You best sleep with a blanket and a shovel
Cause life's too short to be dancing with the Devil
(does he really think I would be happy in that shithole)
Where am I?
(not In that place, that's for sure)
My hands are tied
(I can't change just how stupid you are being right now)
Turn on the lights
(look around and read the room)
And I see you standing
Over me
(dangling my date over my head)
It's hard to breathe
(did I ever have a time when I wasn't seen as the on starting shit even when you started things)
I can't believe
That you'd do this to me
(you threw me out and now you come to the place I'm actually happy in to drag me back?)
Years of us building the trust up
No love was ever enough I'm
Foolish to think we were friends
It's funny how it ends
(self explanatory)
You know, when times get tough
You always give up
(the independence war, schlatt, my exile, hell even the butcher army he. Always have up on saying no to anyone else that put pressure on him.)
I know your smoking gun's
The tip of your tongue
(your only power over me was words)
You take your aim to point the blame
It's time we let it go
(it's time we stop pretending to be happy)
So save your lies, behind those eyes
You're a devil in disguise
(your another dream in the making)
Life's too short to be dancing with the Devil
Life's too short to be dancing with the Devil
(fuck the dream smp I'm staying here)
You best sleep with a blanket and a shovel
Cause life's too short to be dancing with the Devil
(go back to your deathbed)
Now it's time
To pay the price
(to part ways)
No playing nice
When you live so selfish
(remember when you called me that, how you never saw me when you did.)
Have a drink
(go ahead pull a schlatt)
And make a scene
(cause a problem)
Embarrass me
(your already doing a fine job of that)
Cause you're lost and hopeless
(your just someone's puppet now)
Years of us building the trust up
(we were best friends)
No love was ever enough I'm
Foolish to think we were friends
(it never was enough for you to try and show some of the the loyalty I showed you back.)
It's funny how it ends
(funny how you only cared after you thought I was dead.)
And you know, when times get tough
You always give up
(you think I don't see how reliant on me you were)
I know your smoking gun's
The tip of your tongue
(I know it's already fallen apart)
You take your aim to point the blame
It's time we let it go
(because of course I can't just be happier here)
So save your lies, behind those eyes
You're a devil in disguise
(you can't change the truth tubbo)
Life's too short to be dancing with the Devil (yeah)
Life's too short to be dancing with the Devil (yeah)
You best sleep with a blanket and a shovel
Cause life's too short to be dancing with the Devil
You try to act as if you're saving me
(you always acted like I made literally all of the messed we got into, like your tubbo moments don't exist)
But you wouldn't cut the rope if it was hanging me
(you fucked up and signed me off to die alone)
I'm sick of people saying what you sow you reap
(as if everything is my fault)
Cause I've been counting down the minutes of that, so to speak
(because I can see that fucking implosion a thousand portals away)
Think of all the hours and hours of grind
(all the hard work and sacrifice that brought l'manburg into being)
That would turned into sour findings
(that only lead up to me being blamed for the fall of what I, willbur, and Fundy built)
As I wonder if our resigning is becoming the silver lining
(I finally got my freedom but only because I left)
But I'm not a coward, I'm fighting
(I refuse to be ruled by the past)
Cause if they're the meat then I'm biting
( if you try to drag me back I will fucking eat your hope until your dumbass runs back to your bullshit death hole)
Go ahead ignoring and smiling
(like you always fucking do tubbo)
Cause I'm climbing 'till I let...
(that fucking world burn)
You know, when times get tough
You always give up
(you gave up on me)
I know your smoking gun's
The tip of your tongue
(and you can't even admit it to yourself)
You take your aim to point the blame
(you just keep going on and on about complete bullshit)
It's time we let it go
(it's time you got the hint)
So save your lies, behind those eyes
(I know you can tell I am staying of my own Free Will)
Yeah you know, when times get tough
(when it all goes to shit)
You always give up
(you just go along with the storm)
I know your smoking gun's
The tip of your tongue
(all you have is fucking words)
You take your aim to point the blame
(to pretend your perfectly innocent)
It's time we let it go
(I'm done with this)
So save your lies, behind those eyes
(after all this)
You're a devil in disguise
(schlatt would pity you even...)
Life's too short to be dancing with the Devil
Life's too short to be dancing with the Devil
(there is no point In staying in a hellhole let alone going back to one.)
You best sleep with a blanket and a shovel
Cause life's too short to be dancing with the Devil
(tubbo better hope someone will bury him when he dies from his own hubris.)
#I DON'T HAVE A REACTION IMAGE STRONG ENOUGH TO CONVEY MY EMOTIONS SO TAKE THIS#O W#THIS FUCKED ME UP#meraki answers#dream smp#rememtale
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