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shanie-the-toyaddict · 1 year

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He Used To Be Mine - Part "I Have No Idea"

I Still Remember That Boy

(Note: I'm about on the verge of giving up trying to order these things. It appears the only way they are getting done is in the wrong order and this part wasn't even in the initial write-up. But I needed to get something down, so have this. It's somewhere around part 12, but there is at least one story between this and the Royal Rumble. There's a story planned to take place the night of the Tribal Court and there may be more added later. This might only be the first half of this story. I'd like to also write a section of this story that deals with the singles match, but I haven't decided if that will be part of THIS story or another entry that doesn't exist yet. I really am a mess with this.)

.....

Rating: T Characters: Kevin Owens, Sami Zayn Characters Mentioned: Roman Reigns, The American Wolves (ROH) Pairing: Sami Zayn/Kevin Owens Tags: Injury, Angst, Blood, Flashback, Missing Scene Word Count: 1445

Kevin Owens has shed his fair share of blood over the years. So has Sami Zayn. It was nothing new.

But on yet another bloody night, after a match involving John Cena and the biggest pile of dogshit in the yard, Roman Reigns, Kevin's thoughts are on the past.

On a night when he and Sami were on much better terms.

On a night where the blood wasn't spilled in rage but, rather, shared in love.

(References to the night when the American Wolves taped Kevin to the ring ropes and beat the everloving fuck out of him because at this point I'm just aiming to make this hurt I guess)

...

(Story behind cut)

March 21st, 2009

“I’m ok, Sami,” Kevin told him, “It’s just a little blood.”

It was more than a little blood, of course, Kevin’s face was practically covered in it. Also, any remarks about the beating he’d just suffered being ‘a little anything’ would be a lie. He’d managed to get himself taped to the ropes and beaten to a pulp.

And Sami hadn’t stopped it.

It wasn’t his fault, of course. Getting thrown through a table was bound to make coming to anyone’s rescue difficult. Kevin didn’t blame Sami at all for not saving him.

But Sami sure did.

“Kevin,” Sami said, the anguish pouring from his voice like the tears from his eyes, “I’m sorry, ok? I should have... I wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t good enough, I should have... should have...”

Kevin swatted the trainers away from their ministrations. They were trying to put him back together but it didn’t matter. He didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was getting Sami to stop crying. Getting to his feet (and making a point to ignore the daggers which had wedged themselves into his knees) he moved over to his partner.

“Hey,” he said softly, “don’t cry. Come on, seriously, don’t cry. You’re stronger than this. We both are.” Sami sniffled and Kevin reached up to cup his cheek. “Save those tears for an occasion that deserves them. I’m fine.”

He needed Sami to know, needed him to stop crying but as he thumbed freshly spilled tears from Sami’s cheeks, he knew he was failing his mission.

“Please,” he said softly, “trust me. You trust me, right?”

Sami nodded. “Always.”

“Then trust that I’m going to be ok. I’m not an asshole, I’m not about to do something as fucking evil as die on you, ok? I mean, shit, what do you take me for, am I that shitty of a friend?”

It might have been the wrong question to ask as Sami’s eyes dropped and he tucked his head, almost as if he was afraid of giving Kevin the answer he deserved.

Fuck, Kevin thought.

“Sami,” he said softly, “look at me.”

Sami’s eyes didn’t return.

“Sami Zayn. I mean it, look at me.”

That got his attention and, as their eyes met, Kevin felt himself being carved out by the deepest hazel orbs that he’d ever known.

Still, Kevin smiled. “I’m never leaving you, Sami,” he told his friend, “I promise. Stay with me and I’ll take you to the top of the world. Then we can enjoy the view together. Deal?”

Sami sniffled once more, nodding. “Deal.”

It wasn’t a plan what came next, nor was Kevin sure why he did it but, slowly, gently, he leaned forward and placed the softest of kisses to the corner of Sami’s mouth. They’d kissed before, it was nothing new. But the tenderness of the kiss was different, different from their usual brand of over-affectionate brotherhood. Different from the quick pecks and rough hugs they usually shared. It was nowhere in the vicinity of how Kevin would manhandle Sami after a match or when he was annoyed with him.

No, this kiss was something else.

What it was, Kevin really didn’t want to think about, but he did know it was a promise. A promise that they would reach that mountaintop together, regardless of what it took. And as he pulled back, there was a warm smile on both their faces.

Followed immediately by Sami roughly wiping Kevin’s blood off the side of his face.

“Sorry,” Kevin apologized, “I’m a mess.”

Sami chuckled, “It’s just a little blood. We’ll be fine.”

Kevin’s heart was beaming.

They would be.

....................

December 30th, 2022

Kevin’s thoughts were heavy as the trainers tended to the wound on his eye. He’d gotten the worse end of things but he knew in his heart that somewhere, in a different trainers' room, Sami Zayn was being tended to as well. Also battered, also bloody.

Bloody from him. He’d done that.

The worst part was, he’d enjoyed it.

How the fuck had that happened?

I’m never leaving you, Sami…

The memory played in his brain on repeat.

He’d said that so many times back then, a promise made over and over and inevitably broken.

He really was that shitty of a friend after all.

The trainers were talking to him but he wasn’t listening. There was too much on his mind. He’d beaten Roman – well, not directly. He’d beaten Sami. But in doing so he’d bookended Roman’s 2022 with another loss and Kevin wanted to believe it would take the bastard down a notch.

Probably not. It would certainly take Sami down a couple. That part made Kevin want to scream.

Roman was an utter shitbag of a person if he even qualified as a human being. Kevin would consider him the scum of the Earth if it wasn’t for that still being too generous a title. Roman Reigns was like some sort of radioactive alien waste dump that managed to infect and rot everyone around him... none more so than Sami.

Someday. Someday soon. He would destroy Roman. Rip him apart, rip his family apart, steal their belts, and end their influence over the person who Kevin knew in his heart he’d never stop trying to save.

Funny, he’d told Sami he wanted nothing to do with him. He’d said that in front of everyone.

And then he’d proceeded to fight harder than ever to be a part of Sami’s life.

Kevin hated liars. It pissed him off royally when people lied to him and it pissed him off more when he lied to himself.

Because that’s what it was. A lie.

He still wanted to room with Sami, share meals with Sami, travel with Sami. He wanted those things and so much more. He wanted his friend back, yes, but more than that, he wanted his lover back. He wanted the Sami back who he wouldn’t just spend the night with, but would sleep in the same bed with.

Who he would sleep with.

Who he would spend another boring night in another boring city making the most incredible love to. He wanted that back, no, needed it back and Kevin knew he could try and bullshit them both all he wanted over it, he wasn’t giving up. Because that’s just how Kevin Owens was, really. He never stopped fighting, regardless of what he said, and frankly, he knew he could try and oppose destiny, but destiny always won. The forces of space, time, fate, free will, destiny, love, hate, and whatever cosmic empowered soulmate stuff they’d had going on since the day they were born... it couldn’t be swayed or reasoned with. No matter what Kevin said or did, he’d never be free of Sami Zayn and, honestly, he was an idiot for thinking he ever could be.

His mind traveled briefly to the very lonely and empty house he was still trying to unpack on his days off.

Yeah, he really was the biggest dumbass on the planet for thinking he could walk away, and as his thoughts returned once more to how Sami used to fuss over him every time he ended up bloody, Kevin sighed.

He’d probably never get that again. He wasn’t giving up, he was going to keep fighting, but Kevin knew in his heart that even if Sami broke free from his captors, he’d probably only double down on the resentment and rage. He’d blame Kevin for what happened, for The Bloodline turning on him, and Kevin would be denied ever seeing Sami’s eyes look at him fondly again.

Somewhere in his mind, he registered someone saying his name.

“... Kevin. Kevin, Kevin you with us?”

The doc was trying to get his attention.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Kevin grumbled. “Can I go?”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, can you? You seem pretty out of it. Let me check your eyes again, look here – ”

“I’m fine, doc,” replied Kevin. “I just got a lot on my mind is all. I’m not concussed.”

“Fine. Just keep an eye on that, er, eye. If you have any major swelling or discharge, let me know.”

“Yeah.”

Kevin didn’t wait for a response, instead sliding off the table and heading for the door.

He was going home to sleep. To sleep, to forget, and to not think about anything for a good long while until he could wipe all memory of how ok he’d been with potentially breaking Sami’s nose.

The memory of a tender kiss, streaking his blood onto Sami’s face filtered through his mind again.

He decided to forget that too.

#Fanfiction #Shanie's Fanfiction #Sami Zayn #Kevin Owens #The Bloodline #Zowens

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aspd-culture · 1 year

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I really don't want to being this up with my therapist so I kinda wanted to vent here and ask you if this sounds like aspd.

Kinda a disclaimer I have Aspergers, ADHD and depression diagnosed as well as trauma from being hospitalised (psych ward) quite young also big ass trigger warning

The thing is I relate heavily to all if the symptoms like I can place them personally onto myself and things I do.

I've been a serial liar since I was child, ppl irl even now don't ken the the real me I've spun a web of lies ab myself, nothing of great grandeur, just to cover up the tracks of things I don't want ppl to know as well as I enjoy lying frankly

I have low empathy, i always kinda have done. I've never really felt that pain I just can't muster the energy to give a fuck, I really don't fucking care, like that's a you problem it doesn't concern me nor does it threaten me so I don't care.

I've never felt remorse for my actions I feel like if I harm someone, lie, or manipulate them they kinda deserve it and ik that they probably didn't but they hurt me or they hurt my image or my reputation so they have to pay, they have to know that I have that power over them.

I often get violent urges and thoughts, most of the time in the form of a day dream if sorts. TW but I really wanna beat someone into a pulp esp if they thought I was weak or they doubted me/angered me. I often ponder the question to myself that if I did kill or harm someone like that would I feel something or would I get a similar feeling to when I fantasize ab it, would it scar me for life? Would I realise I was wrong? I mostly do this to try ground myself as I've gotten in some rlly nasty fights before because it ended up being all I could think about.

I've broken the law many times either through selling, buying or doing drugs. Shoplifting and pickpocketing (haven't been caught yet ab any of these ones) as well as multiple charges of assault.

I lie to people I consider my friends about caring ab their problems or opinions and I can't keep friends for particularly long unless their drug buddies

However I think I can feel love in a romantic/sexual sense but I think most of my past relationships have been nothing but obsession mixed with the fact I like having someone who cares that much ab me and I like having a lot of sex. Like I need you to be mines, if they even mention they find another person attractive then i just want to fucking maim someone. You can only be mines until I get bored of you. Then as soon as I get bored all feelings towards them cease and I gotta fake that I'm upset.

I do a lot of things that are considered "morally bankrupt" according to my therapist but I always feel like I'm not a bad person, I just can't let people know I do bad person things.

Sorry for the vent

Alrighty gotta start this off with a real quick boundary about a term you used. Please do not use the term Asperger's when talking to me (ideally, not at all). It is a literal N*zi's name. I also hate the aspie supremacy aspect of it, but honestly that's not my main issue with it, my main issue is that term literally means "not disabled enough by their autism to be gassed so let's give them to our freakshow n*zi doctor so he can experiment on them until they die that way". Thanks. /nmay just frustrated by the use of the term. I know not everyone knows.

That said, I am still ok with answering the rest of the ask for you. I cannot diagnose you, and anything I say here is really just info I'd advise you to take to your therapist, not a way of avoiding talking to them about it.

One major part of ASPD that you didn't mention at all in your ask is disregard for safety/wellbeing of yourself; you just mentioned others. PwASPD not only have trouble avoiding putting others in danger, but themselves too. We tend to get ourselves into situations we can't easily get out of, start fights we know we can't win or haven't considered if we could win, etc.

Another big thing that I noticed in your ask is an egocentric way of thinking and speaking that is not super common in ASPD. Arrogance is an associated trait, but usually people I've talked to with ASPD have a more complicated relationship with the justification for the things they do (justifying to yourself to avoid responsibility is actually a symptom of ASPD) as well as with their self-esteem. That said, many of the symptoms you're talked about here definitely do seem to match up with some of the criteria...

I wonder if it's possible you relate to the symptoms of either just NPD or both ASPD and NPD? I am by no means an expert in NPD and I don't know you particularly well but just answering basing off of the wording of your ask and such I would advise you do research into that as well as ASPD. They can be comorbid. In fact, because the way that cluster b disorders develop are all relatively similar (trauma and failure to develop a secure attachment style), it's somewhat common to have more than one of them.

I hope this helps.

#tw asperger #tw ableist language #tw ableist term #tw n zi #tw n zi mention #tw antisemitism #aspd-culture-is #aspd culture is #aspd culture #actually antisocial #actually aspd #antisocial personality disorder #aspd #aspd awareness #aspd traits #npd #anons welcome #tw violence mention #tw violent thoughts

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twstchaos · 1 year

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"Never do that again. Please"

Vil and Missy (platonic)

UWAH!!! A REQUEST!!!

Thank the creative gods that I had thoughts about this particular duo, so I could actually write this lmaoooooooo!!!

~~~

“AH AIN’T NO FRAIL L’IL LADY! AH KIN WHOOP Y’ALL’S ASSES ANY DAY!”

Missy was seething with anger. It was one thing to insult her short stature, but once her so-called “hoity-toity-ness” of being a student in Diasomnia was mentioned, Missy was left seeing red.

Lilia had been teaching some self-defense, so she would fare well against those larger bullies, and she did until one of their fists collided with her eye socket.

“Ow! Fuck!” She covered her injured eye with her hand.

“Not so tough now, ha!” One of them laughed.

“SHUDDUP! AH KIN STILL KEEP ON GOIN’!”

Missy slowly moved her hand away from her eye, balled her hands into fists and was ready to fight again.

“You all are aware that fighting on campus is prohibited, yes?”

Missy whipped her head towards the all too familiar voice.

“Ugh, it’s you.”

Vil sauntered over to Missy and the group of bullies she was totally close to beating to a pulp. He faced the bullies, stepping between them and the younger student.

“I will have a word with your respective dorm leaders about this. Now leave.”

And with that warning, they ran off.

“Now to you, spudling.”

Missy grumbled at the name.

“I should also be reporting you to Malleus as well, but it seems that we have more pressing matters to attend to.” He emphasized his point by pressing his index and middle finger lightly against Missy’s reddening skin. She hissed in pain as Vil pulled away.

“Follow me.” Vil commanded as his heels clicked down the corridor.

Once the two arrived at Vil’s room, Missy was astonished by how nothing had changed in his room. Then again, the last time she was inside there, she was wrecking it up.

“Sit.” Vil pointed to the vanity’s seat. Missy sat down, placing the mostly melted ice pack that they picked up on their way to Pomefiore on her lap.

“No squirming, I am going to be applying some creams to keep the swelling down.” After scooping out some cream from a random white jar on the vanity, Vil carefully applied it to her skin, being careful to not get it in her eye.

“You should know better than to be fighting.” Vil scolded.

“They started it.” Missy scoffed. “So, I planned on endin’ it. Plus, ya bettah not be callin’ me weak.”

He shook his head. “I, of all people, should know that you aren’t weak. You did nearly beat me twice.”

She smirked. “I know, I’m the best.”

With a sigh of content, he rubbed in the last of the product.

“You’re done.” Vil said while scooping out a bit more of the cream and placing it into a smaller plastic jar and handing it to Missy. “Apply it twice a day until you run out, and only use a small amount.”

“Oh, thanks, I guess.”

Missy slipped the jar into her pocket and headed towards the door.

“Never do that again. Please.” Vil said as he cleaned up his vanity.

“No promises!” Missy giggled, slamming the door behind her.

“Augh, that spudling.”

#michi writes #keep ‘em comin’#missy chievous #the gremlin #vil schoenheit #twst oc #twst writing #twisted wonderland #disney twst

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threewaysdivided · 1 year

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a part of your story i’m really hyped for!! i want to see cujo and wolf interact, if you’re planning on it! also, seems like zatanna knows what’s up with the GZ due to that ‘thought you’d go for something more purple’ comment, and i’m REALLY excited to see that come to fruition. hope this cheered you up a bit!! there’s so much i’m excited for, but mostly i’m excited to see where you take things. you have a really great perception and in-depth knowledge of the fanon and canon for both YJ and DP, so reading deadly weapons has been great fun.

Aww, thank you!

Now, as for things coming up in Deathly Weapons:

Cujo and Wolf are each planned to have scenes in later chapters and shenanigans will ensue for both, but at present those two particular doggos are unlikely to cross paths. One the other hand, there is a different canine compadre of confusingly similar name, who Wolf may run across as we move towards the late-game.

When it comes to our favourite backwards magic child... Usually I would be tempted to tease with some ambiguous wording about how ~oOoOoh you might be onto something~, but in this case I think I need to walk myself to the stocks and clarify that I dun goofed. Because I am crotchety and not-at-all hip with the youth.

The 'I thought you'd go for something more purple' line in Chapter 16 was actually meant to be Zatanna making a reference to a very old pulp/ newspaper comic superhero. A character called The Phantom, also referred to as "The Ghost Who Walks" and sometimes going by the civilian cover name of "Mister Walker" hence why DW's Phantom responds to her by joking that 'Walker's already taken' - a nod to both him and DP's own ghost-warden Walker has appeared in news-print comics since late 1930's. He actually pre-dates all of the DC comics characters as the first wide-print hero depicted in a skin-tight leotard and white-eyed domino mask. In a way he's sort of a proto-Batman, as well as being one of the earliest legacy heroes. The Phantom still runs as a daily newspaper strip as of 2022, in addition to a handful of comic-book issues released over the years (one of which was done by DC themselves).

The main point, though, is that The Phantom was actually the first "comics superhero" I was ever exposed to, thanks to my Dad's love of catching the weekend comics strips back when print newspapers were still a thing I was a kid, and I didn't realise how niche and obscure he was until I posted that joke and exactly zero people got it. All you really need to know is that his leotard is exceptionally purple.

Sadly that means no dice on Zee currently knowing more about ghosts that she does in canon. However, as mentioned previously, I have been looking to give her a little mini-arc (as sort of an apology gift for her treatment in i terribili sequels) so her not knowing much now doesn't mean she isn't going to end up knowing more later. Watch this space, especially when there are signs of mystical ghosty business afoot.

Tell me about a thing you’re hype for IRL, a part of my story you’re really looking forward to OR send a 🌻 for a flower photo

#young justice: deathly weapons #positivity ask game #thanks for playing 💜#mygoldfishateit #3WD answers #Chapter 16 #Second Impressions #Have some trivia as an apology for my inability to make current and understandable references #failing to make jokes is my oldest and most reliable signature move #I have ended up with a weird number of headcanons about Zee learning ghost magic #(especially to do with how it would place her relative to my headcanons for the dynamic between Clockwork and Nabu)#but all of that will be Meta-text for DW's actual story so feel free to Kill the Author kids #Anyway the mundane lore of the DW!verse is that The Phantom comics were printed on Earth16 and Zee is aware of them via Zatara's newsreadin #(also - fun fact: if you align YJ's canon timeline to real time I would be in the same rough age range as The OG Team.)#(Ergo my bad highschool memes are plausible. I was there Gandalf. I remember what it was to be teenaged in 2010.)

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satuguro · 6 months

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ੈ‧₊˚ NOT A LOT, JUST FOREVER

[ PROLOGUE: ALWAYS AN ANGEL ]

satoru gojo x suguru geto x afab! reader

s. satoru and suguru break into your house, your sisters think suguru is the perfect man, and you hate being called a mom.

c. not canon au, slowburn, suggestive/sexual content (in later chapters), familial issues (mentions of neglect, hints at abuse, ptsd), angst, fluff (esp in this chapter), non-committed! reader, mutual pining, established satosugu (in later parts), sorcerer! reader

a. surprise! i'm making another series (bc that's all i know, apparently). be aware that time will pass and that flash backs (and forwards) will happen. ♡

the birds chirp in your ears as the purple haze of dusk smokes over the horizon. the sun was taking its sweet time, barely creeping up over the hills as fog settled along moist grass.

the yoshino household was cold. devoid of all life in its main rooms, and cold. as though someone had bleached and cleaned the wooden floors again and again, wishing for the evidence of childhood and children to be gone. the house buzzed with a cursed energy that originated from one room only— yours.

the birds song happily outside your window. in any other circumstance, you would’ve found it peaceful— it was nature, after all. everyone loved nature.

but it was 6:45 am— far too early for you to be awake. and as a 14-year-old, you could only be annoyed at the stupidly loud sounds of nature and force yourself up and out of bed.

a bird squawked close to your open window. you could only shut it with a loud thud.

the hallways were dimly lit as you walk down them, shuffling quietly in mismatched sandals— your siblings had lost either pair ages ago. exhaustion pulled at your body, nearly lulling you to sleep even as you begrudgingly walk down the hallway to the first room to your right.

you knock three times before entering.

the stained glass lamp was kept on between the two beds, providing soft ambient light in the shared room. you could see the ruffled hair of your twin sisters, saori and satomi, in their beds. both slept quietly, both buried under their oppositely colored blankets.

waking up your sisters was always done with caution. not because they were particularly angry when they got up (the most you got from either of them were little grumbles as they got up), but because they had a habit of seeing their mother rather than you when you gently shook them awake.

they always thought you were mom. mom, who forced fear in their hearts and made them get up like they were soldiers, not children. mom, who only reminded them of a destructive home and loud voices who threatened their safety. mom, who never laid a finger on them, but certainly beat their brains down into a pulp that she could mold with a cookie cutter.

your hands gently went to satomi’s blanket covered shoulders, shaking her softly as you tried to keep your own eyes open. satomi always had the worst of it— your younger brothers were too young to react in such a way just yet, but satomi always woke up afraid.

her eyes snap open, identical to your’s as she looked at you in fear. in her eyes, you were mom. you looked like mom.

it was like staring into a mirror. satomi and saori looked so much like you — almost scarily so.

“i’m sorry—” the ten year old scrambles at her bedsheets, trying to force herself away from you, her exhaustion making your face mold into your mother’s, your gentle hands being replaced by harsh ones.

but you weren’t mom. you were y/n. just y/n.

“it’s me.” your cool hands went to her face, making her look at you — really look at you. you watch as the fear that seeped in her eyes sunk away, replaced by familiarity. recognition. safety.

embarrassment and guilt tugs at the corner of satomi’s lips.

“it’s okay,” you murmur, managing a tired smile as you slowly pulled your hands away from her face. your heart ached at her fear of being woken up, but you said nothing. satomi wasn’t sentimental, and she wasn’t emotional; neither were you.

you went to ruffle her already messy hair, as though you were wiping away the embarrassment she had felt moments before. satomi only groaned, making no move to stop you.

“wake up saori for me, okay?” you say, rubbing your eyes and standing up, stretching your arms over your head. “i’ll wake up your brothers.”

“okay,” satomi’s voice mumbles. turning away, the sound of rustling bedsheets met your ears as satomi aggressively shake her twin sister awake. “get up, saori.”

“shut up, satomi!”

the door closed behind you with a soft thud, and as your feet shuffled across the floor again, you felt it.

that mixture of cursed energy. mixture, as you rarely ever feel one without the other. and when you did, there was a shared longing for the other to be there.

the sight of your brothers’ open bedroom door would usually bring fear to your heart and make your cursed energy spike. but the sight of it only made you sigh; what was there to worry about, as the self-acclaimed strongest was already in your house? that, and his best friend, almost as strong as he was— your family were in good hands.

it was nice to have life— positive life —in your house. usually, it was full of exhaustion; kids going to school in the morning with their parents never in sight and coming back home, only to fear for their safety as they did. school was a solace. school meant that they were safe from the hands of their own creators.

maybe that was why you were always out. always pushing that supposed curfew that had a steel grip on you only when your mother was home; because if she was home, everyone else had to be home too. you stayed out until 2 am, sometimes 3, sleeping a restless sleep in your dorm room before you were sneaking out to come back home to your siblings to take care of them because no one else would. allowing yourself to be late to classes sometimes because you had to prep the food they were to eat later that day when you weren’t home. teaching satomi and saori how to heat up their own food and their siblings’ food when mother was asleep.

you were tired. and so were they.

they talked loud— they always did —but they were speaking louder than usual, no doubt because of your brothers. they were far too young to be as affected as satomi and ari were, but you still worried for them nonetheless.

your best friends’ voices grew louder with every step. more excited, as though they knew you were just around the corner (and they did; no cursed techniques needed).

"she's going to kill us, satoru."

"but look! the kid is enjoying it!"

your younger brother, akio, at the age of 6, had an energy to him that only satoru could match. with his wild bedhead tickling his pudgy cheeks, he happily sat on the counter as he and the strongest sorcerer in the world shared a chocolate bar at 6 am. satoru found kids annoying - you knew that - but you also knew that from the few times he had seen your family, he had a soft spot for your brother. and maybe for your other siblings too.

".. he's kind of cute," satoru coos, poking at akio’s cheek, eyebrows raising in intrigue as akio glared at him in the same way you did, and yet still took the chocolate he was feeding to him like one would feed a pet. “huh,” he said, tilting his head, “they really are related.”

"you think?" suguru asks with an amused smile, tilting his head down at the kid grasping onto his leg like a vice, looking up at him with a shy expression on his doughy face. his hand came up to give your youngest brother, takahiro, a small wave.

the kid had the same hair as you, but messier, his tresses falling all over his eyes and pudgy face. he could see you in him; especially when the 5 year old smiled shyly and buried his head into the fabric of suguru's pants. “better make sure y/n doesn't hear -"

"what are you doing in my house?"

satoru already knew you were wake - he could feel your energy buzzing around the awakening household. but that still didn't stop him from feeling a slight bit of fear in his heart at the sound of your voice. "shit," satoru grumbles, sending suguru a glare as the raven-haired man began to chuckle to himself.

suguru's eyes were always piercing; sharper than knives and intimidating. but as he looked at you, his knives dulled. his gaze softened.

you stood in a large shirt and some striped shorts, your face bare of any makeup and your feet covered by mismatched sandals. but that wasn't what suguru was paying attention to - what he focused on were the way your eyes were sunken, displaying your lack of sleep. the way you looked like a puppet, having your body run on muscle memory— there physically, but not mentally.

there was an empty look in your eyes; evidence of someone close to burning out.

his smile faltered at that. but satoru didn't have the same subtlety that he had.

"hi y/n! oh wow," satoru scratches his chin, peering at you over his sunglasses (he was indoors and it was 7 am; was he insane?). "you look like death. did you even sleep?"

maybe it was the fact that it was way too early in the morning. maybe it was the lack of sleep— either way, satoru's comment made your lip twitch with annoyance. you would've punched him if you weren't so exhausted.

"thanks, toru," you said through gritted teeth, looking between your best friends before looking down at your two brothers. takahiro was already trudging his way over to you, no doubt to be held, and akio was staring right into your eyes as he stuffed his face with the remaining chocolate as quickly as he could (you couldn't stop him if he was already eating it). sighing, you walked over to takahiro, picking him up and setting him on your hip easily.

takahiro tugged at the tresses of your hair, fidgeting with it gently as he made himself preoccupied. you didn't even look, far too used to his little habit; instead, your eyes were set on the 6 year old who was quickly licking his mouth of any remnants of chocolate left behind, his legs swinging from the counter he sat on. you openly watched as suguru subtly gave him a paper towel, to which akio used to wipe the entirety of his face, which made satoru's nose crinkle.

you hum to yourself, walking closer to akio and nudging him softly with your shoulder. "whatcha eating, akio?"

your brother looked up at you, offering a toothy, chocolate stained smile. "nothin', y/n."

again, you sent satoru a glare, one that he didn't even meet as he inspected some photo pinned up on your fridge with such fake interest that you could only roll your eyes. your eyes then turned to suguru, ready to tell him off for doing nothing to stop his best friend; but he quickly went to join satoru, mumbling incoherently about how stiff you looked in your family photo.

you huffed in annoyance, shifting your hold on takahiro.

"akio, can you go into the bathroom and brush your teeth with takahiro? you two have school in a bit." you manage a tired smile, too tired to tease or remind your brother that sweets made your teeth rot.

akio nods quickly, jumping down from the kitchen counter easily as he went to you as you put takahiro down gently. "okay! c'mon, hiro." the energetic 6 year old grabs his younger brother's hand and practically drags him away to the bathroom, making you sigh in relief. you'd have to help them get dressed after they brushed their teeth; thankfully, you had bathed them the night before. but before that, you had to prepare their breakfasts and their lunches— maybe you should give saori and satomi some money to buy some candies to share with their siblings. hopefully they were getting dressed by now, you had made sure their uniforms were steamed the night before—

"nice job, y/n."

you forgot they were there; you had been staring at nothing for the past minute now, oblivious to the way satoru was taking photos of you on his flip phone (no doubt to put you as his wallpaper later). but what really snapped you out of your stupor was suguru's cool voice, only lightly laced with worry— never enough to make you annoyed with him.

but he's looking at you with a knowing look; the same look he gives you and satoru when you overwork yourselves, or when you lie to him about how exhausted you are. suguru knows.

"thanks," you murmur in response, shoving satoru's phone away as he quite literally puts it up in front of your face, popping whatever personal bubble you had. though, it never really seemed to exist around satoru. "what are you, paparazzi?"

"what, i can't take a photo of you just because you look pretty?" satoru pouts, slinging an arm over you as you moved to open your refrigerator. you don't pay him any mind, accustoming it to his usual teasing and flirtatious nature, but you fail to catch the way he looks down at his phone, his grandiose nature faltering when he sees the photo of you. he's sure that if you ever saw, you'd find it horrendous; the camera is too close to your face, and the photo is blurry as it was taken only milliseconds before you shoved his hand away. your eyes were glaring at him, and your mouth was in a small annoyed frown, but it only made him swallow thickly, feeling his heartbeat pick up ever so slightly at the sight.

"whatever— what are you two doing here?" you ask again, already grabbing some milk and butter, preparing your ingredients for breakfast.

suguru and satoru didn't visit you often. there was truly no need to most of the time; you lived in the countryside, almost an hour train ride from the city, and usually made that commute due to your siblings. besides, you usually saw them every day at school (though, if you were to ask them both, every day from the morning until the afternoon wasn't quite enough).

strong hands went to grab a pan from your cupboard, setting it up on the stove. those same hands took the butter from you and grabbed the eggs to bring it closer. "we wanted to check in on the yoshino household," suguru hummed as he helped you, not even asking if you wanted his help (he knew that you would say no). "and see what's got you so tired all the time."

satoru peeks his head over your shoulder, watching as you began to put toast into the toaster. "you've been skipping out on breakfasts with sugu, shoko, and me," he says, setting his chin on your shoulder, "we wanted to see who else has your attention."

you snort. ".. my siblings?"

"it's better than what satoru thought— he thought you had some new person in your life that wasn't him or me," suguru hums, cracking an egg into the hot and buttered pan, smiling to himself as he hears satoru groan at his words.

"it was an actual possibility though!"

you smile again, and it doesn't reach your eyes. you suppose that it hasn't for a while; things feel too forced now. eating and drinking feel like a chore, sleeping feels like a blessing, and waking up feels like dread.

it was too early; you have too many responsibilities, too much to worry about, too many people to watch over, too many people to put before yourself. you didn't even know where your mom was— the one person who was supposed to be here, supposed to be awake this hour. a spike of anger shot through you at the thought; even just thinking about that woman exhausted you.

your body seemed to slump more and more with every thought that raced in your head, your shoulders heavy with the weight of your responsibilities outside of being a jujutsu sorcerer. missions were getting harder, and with it, your control over your cursed technique. yaga reminded you time and time again how important it was for you to master you own abilities.

not only for you, but also for the higher ups. "for the good of the people," they always repeat.

you're thousands of miles away again. they both notice, taking in the way your eyes look thorugh the wall you're staring holes into, staring at nothing and feeling like you're floating above your body.

gently, suguru nudges your arm with his own as he carefully fries eggs in the pan. "we're here to help." suguru adds, noting the way your body responds to his touch, but moves as though it's on autopilot, your body slumped and your eyes exhausted. he smiles a little, and as you look at him, your eyes focus again. you've always liked suguru's smile. "with the.. kids."

satoru snickers, poking a finger into suguru's cheek as he keeps his body draped over your back, perfectly content with not helping with breakfast. "you make her sound like a mom, suguru. how depressing."

"well, she kind of is one, isn't she?" suguru sighs, brows furrowing a little as he looked at satoru pointedly. you didn't talk about your home life often - just like he and satoru. but your home life always called for you to be there, always had you kept on a taut leash. satoru and suguru didn't have that type of problem.

and they knew that if you were taking care of others - especially your siblings - you would be happy. content.

you always sacrificed so much of yourself without even thinking about it.

you shuffle your feet, looking away from their eyes. you didn't like asking for help; maybe it was trauma, maybe it was just that you were too cowardly to be open to the idea, maybe you thought that your two best friends had some weird ulterior motive, you didn't know. but the aspect of help made your stomach churn with guilt.

"sorry," you say without thinking.

"for what?" satoru responds, his tone lacking the usual grandiosity it has, instead replaced by genuine curiosity. as he watches you avoid his eyes, he clicks his tongue, putting the pieces together. you feel his arms wrap tighter around you - he was always so physically affectionate with you and suguru. "technically, you never said you needed help.."

"we're helping. no need to ask," suguru says, already moving past you to rummage through your cupboards as though he owned the place. he glances at you, seeing the uncertainty in your eyes. "we want to, y/n," he says, quieter this time, sincerity in his tone.

the sun peeks over the horizon, casting a soft glow on the fog that settled around your house. the sounds of kids getting ready for school become louder as the daylight creeps in, waking them up and making them more rowdy by the minute. the smell of toast and eggs wafts through the air, accompanied with the sweet smell of hot chocolate (courtesy of satoru.)

the three of you are uncharacteristically quiet, moving around the kitchen together as you worked to make breakfast. there was some kind of familiarity as you moved past satoru and suguru, your hands trailing lightly over their backs as you moved about the kitchen. it felt natural to be here with them.

"y/n." akio's voice disrupts the comfortable silence, but the sight of him makes you chuckle softly, walking over to kneel in front of him as he stands in his uniform. the buttons are mismatched, his hat is barely holding onto his head, and his hair is a mess as he looks at you for help, his pudgy lips turning into a pout. "i tried," he manages, but doesn't continue.

"i know," you say, carefully fixing the buttons on his uniform and fixing the yellow hat on his head. you fix his hair in a way that's comfortable for him, and tug at the white of his uniform to make it look more put together. "you did a good job, you know."

"don't lie," akio pouts, making you laugh. and the sound makes suguru and satoru stop whatever stupid argument they had started while you had strayed away from them (something about how much sugar should be put in hot cocoa), their eyes watching you.

"i wouldn't say it if i was lying," you hum easily, brushing imaginary dirt off of his uniform before nodding. "you're all good."

giggling, akio happily runs over to satoru and stands in front of him, his head craning up to look at the teenager. "give me more chocolate," he demands, holding out a tiny hand towards the strongest sorcerer.

satoru nearly chokes on his hot cocoa. "excuse me? sugu, do you hear this kid?"

"you heard him."

"he's six, he needs to learn manners!"

as you slowly stand back up, stretching your arms over your head, you hear three different pairs of feet run across the floor and into the kitchen, your body nearly toppling over as takahiro runs into your legs and wraps his arms around them. for some reason, his uniform looks a lot better than akio's did - one of the twins definitely helped him out.

"geto!" the sound of your sisters' yells make you turn your head to them. as expected, they're fully dressed in their uniforms, with satomi’s hair tied into its usual low buns and saori's clipped back with two silver clips. their eyes light up at the sight of your friends - or rather, they light up at the sight of suguru. as they bound over to him, they bump past satoru as if he doesn’t even exist, both of them too excited to see suguru cooking them their breakfast in their kitchen.

"what are you doing here?! we haven’t seen you in nearly two months—"

“here’s that hair clip i promised to give you, geto!”

you felt your face heat up as your sisters completely cornered him, not even giving him a second to respond as they spoke excitedly about everything they could think of; their week, suguru’s week, your week (did they have to tell him you tripped down the stairs at midnight?). your sisters loved suguru— they thought he was handsome, respectful but funny, kind, and basically the perfect man. they always teased you when they caught you staring at him for a second too long when he and satoru visited.

and when they caught you doing the same to satoru, they could only fake gag in disgust. they had a love-hate relationship with the man.

satomi believed he was a show off. saori thought that he was going to lose his teeth by 30.

you could practically feel satoru's discontent with not being on your sisters' good sides; he always claimed that he couldn't care less for what brats thought of him, but you always knew it was a lie. he wanted to be 'cool uncle gojo' or something akin to that; you weren't sure. “aren’t you guys excited to see me?” satoru asks, interrupting the two with a large smile.

satomi and saori only blink, identical eyes staring right into satoru's crystalline ones so creepily that his smile falls. “no,” they state in unison, before turning back to suguru, who was smiling to himself as he turned off the stove.

“this is bullshit,” satoru huffs, moving to sling an arm over your shoulders, disregarding the fact that you were plating breakfast into five plates; one for satoru, one for suguru, and one for each of your sisters.

you could eat later, you assumed. it was fine if there was none left for you as long as they got to eat. but satoru was already grabbing another plate from the cupboard and giving you a pointed look.

"you forgot your plate, y/n." he hums, moving smoothly to push the plates that had toast on them over to suguru, who carefully put the eggs on the side. satoru clicks his tongue at you, knowing eyes tracing the features of your face as his skin prickles with worry. "you can't take care of others if you aren't taking care of yourself."

"what movie did you steal that from, hm?" you respond coolly, looking at satoru with a tilt of your head. and when he sees that spark of amusement in your eyes, the slight worry that had travelled through his body alleviated. "or did you steal that from suguru?"

"huh?" satoru blinks in surprise. "i didn't steal that from anyone! besides, suguru isn't kind enough to even come up with such a thing," he stated matter of factly, grinning that stupid satoru grin that only made your own lips tilt up in response.

"i swear i said that same thing to you when you didn't sleep for 24 hours that one time," suguru grumbled as he walked by to put the milk back into the fridge, his free hand coming up to flick at satoru's arm. he ignores the whine that leaves satoru's lips in response, rolling his eyes as he puts the milk back. "he's right though," he states simply as he shuts the fridge with his hip, looking at you with an almost disappointed look.

"i'm honestly just kind of surprised that you agree with toru," you say, trying to lighten the mood with a cheeky smile. but it quickly falters when suguru gives you another look, one that makes you huff. "i will, i will," you grumble, turning away to grab two plates and give them to your siblings.

suguru and satoru help bring the plates in front of the kids, all of them saying their thanks before digging in. the hot cocoas (made oh-so-kindly by satoru) are passed out not too long after, and you find yourself eating your breakfast between your two best friends, your plate on the countertop and a piece of toast in your hand.

"so," satoru begins, taking a quick sip of his tooth-rotteningly sweet hot cocoa before continuing, "why haven't you asked us?"

you gape at him. "what?"

"to help you in the morning," suguru responds for satoru, not looking up as he cuts into his eggs. he glances up briefly to meet your eyes knowingly.

"because i have it under control," you say, shrugging as you look between the two sorcerers. "i've been doing this for years, you know."

"yeah but," satoru sighs, taking a bite out of his toast. he thinks for a moment as he chews, his brows furrowing before he swallows. "it's gonna get harder. especially with school and missions—"

"and with the higher ups wanting you to hurry up and become some pro," suguru adds, gauging your reaction. he could already see the words bubbling up in your throat, the usual, 'no, i'm fine' and 'it's my responsibility not yours' that threatened to come out. "okay look — we won't help you."

"sugu, we literally went over the reasons why we should help on the train here," satoru says with wide confused eyes. "our mornings are usually free on these days—"

"she's going to say no already— just look at her, satoru."

"yeah, but we can't keep being a teenage mom to kids who aren't her's—"

"i'll take better care of myself," you interrupt, stopping the argument before they could bicker even more, making the two of them turn their heads your way. you let out a heavy sigh, pinching your nose bridge and closing your eyes. after a few seconds, you opened your eyes again and reached for your hot cocoa. "i'll take better care of myself if you two agree not to help me every morning. i have it under control."

i have it under control. those words echo over and over in your head to the point where they become incomprehensible.

"you two act like you have all the time in the world," you mutter, "and always forget that you're going to be just as busy as i am. you don't need to be taking care of my family for me— i’m capable.” your eyes flicker between the two of them, your voice serious and your decision stubbornly made. ".. got it?"

suguru nods, hiding a small smirk behind his mug. "got it, ma'am." he only chuckles at the glare you give him.

"yes, miss yoshino," satoru drawls, and you swat his arm with a scoff.

"please never call me that again. both of you."

the sun had already made its way up the horizon, casting warmth in its wake. clouds painted the sky, offering breaks of color between the melted pinks and blues. birds flew by as people in the passing towns were getting their day started.

rays of sun shone down onto your face, making you shift your position on satoru's shoulder as you slept soundly. they had chose to come with you to drop off your siblings at school (you literally needed to pry akio away from satoru before he gave him more chocolate), leaving the three of you close to late for your classes.

not that they really cared.

your lips were parted, eyes shut as you leaned against satoru's shoulder. you were sleeping soundly despite the fact that you had specifically told your best friends that you wouldn't pass out any time soon. your eyelashes were kissing your cheeks, casting shadows on your cheeks.

"she's exhausted," suguru states, unable to keep his eyes off of the both of you as he sat across from satoru. he usually always knew what to say, but as he watched satoru gently move his shoulder to adjust your head, his lips tilted up into a genuine smile as he watched you mumble incoherently before falling asleep again, suguru found his mouth drying. whatever he wanted to say died away as he watched you both with a feeling in his stomach.

not like butterflies; he always hated that. more like sparks— little shots of energy that made him gravitate towards the both of you.

"hello? earth to sugu?" satoru tilts his head, finally catching his best friend's gaze with a smile. not his stupid grandiose one that people crooned over; the one that suguru knew. "i said that we should stop by that cafe near the station; the one with the really good chocolate cake."

suguru crosses his arms over his chest, a cocky smirk threatening to tug as his lips as he watched satoru's eyes casually wander to his arms before flickering back up to his face again. "we're gonna be late, you know."

"they also have good coffee. the bitter shit that you like," satoru crinkles his nose as he says it, "and a huge menu of coffee flavors so that y/n can try them all," he says happily, pulling your body closer to his with one arm.

"you only brought it up because you wanted to eat the chocolate cake."

"that was only part of it," satoru pouts, sighing as he leans his head atop yours'. he takes in a breath of your rosemary mint shampoo, sighing contentedly at the familiar scent, his eyes fluttering. "she's tired. she'll want caffeine later."

satoru was right; you had woken up basically craving caffeine, your eyes barely even open as you trudged out of the train alongside them.

but you didn't want to be even more late than you already were. which was why you found yourself in front of a vending machine, a frown tugging at your lips as you tried to choose a drink.

“don’t you think i’m more handsome than suguru?”

“i think you’re on the same level.”

“but if you had to choose,” satoru sighs dramatically, staring at the vending machine alongside you. his arms are crossed over his chest as he gauges his options. there were new flavors, he noted, and he reaches a hand up to scratch his chin as he tries to pick one. his eyes glance over one of your favorites. “who would you pick, y/n?”

“what kind of question is that, toru?” suguru asks with a scoff, leaning against the vending machine with his drink in hand, trying to play off his genuine curiosity as he glances at you. your brows are furrowed, eyes focused purely on the vending machine as you try and pick your drink.

“it’s a genuine one!”

"it's a weird one," you correct him absentmindedly.

"she's right," suguru says, eyes meeting satoru’s. and despite the seriousness of his tone, satoru sees that tug at suguru’s lips that makes him grin.

“you wanna find out too!”

“shut up, satoru.”

you don’t even look at them, squinting your eyes a little more as you peer at the bending machine, brushing off the question like it was just another one of satoru’s stupid questions— which it technically was, but you were too busy with choosing your drink to notice the sincere curiosity in satoru and suguru’s eyes.

“can i pick both?”

they weren’t sure why they both became quiet at that.

maybe it was because it was the first time they had even heard something like that— the prospect of being with you while still being together. sure, satoru and suguru kissed once or twice (or more). sure, they both knew that they both liked you— it was bound to happen, they assumed. but they never fathomed that you’d even mention the idea of choosing both of them; they thought they’d have to bring it up to you.

satoru looked at suguru, blue eyes shining from behind his sunglasses, as though he was saying, ‘i told you so.’

suguru only shook his head, not wanting to jump to conclusions. instead, he prodded on further. “you have to pick one, y/n.”

“i’m not going to.” there’s truth behind your words— to choose one of your best friends over the other didn’t really feel.. right.

you reach into your pocket, pulling out 50 yen. you frown, looking at the price of the drink— 100 yen. “.. do you two have 50 yen?”

“suguru does,” satoru chirps as suguru walks to stand between them both. satoru's arm immediately goes under suguru's as he does, giving the raven-haired sorcerer a grin.

call it habit, or maybe stupid teenage shit. but satoru liked touching you and suguru when you were around him.

"don't you, sugu?" satoru says further, making his best friend roll his eyes and huff in annoyance.

"if anything, you should have it."

"do you see me as an atm machine or something?"

"does the strongest not have enough money to pay?"

despite their bickering, both of them were already pulling out their wallets to give you 50 yen, making you hide a smile as you took satoru's over suguru's, making him smile triumphantly at the other man. "i'm only taking it because suguru always pays," you remind satoru as you buy your drink.

his smile falters at that. "what? but i do pay!" satoru groans as he hears suguru chuckle next to him, making him jab his side with his elbow. "my best friends are my biggest haters. unbelievable," he grumbles, buying his own drink— one of your favorites —for himself.

he swears he can see you when autumn comes around. it leaves a bitter feeling in his throat when he sees the warm leaves surround his vision, when he smells petrichor and feels the chilly breeze you loved. and when he sees people pass by in scarves, he almost sees you. he sees you when he takes the train to the countryside. when he sees the hills of green and yellow, when he feels the warmth of another on his skin, when he tastes something perfectly seasoned; never too savory, never too sweet. you were transitional. the autumn between their summers and winters. the spring between their winters and summers. whereas he was the heat and he was the cold, you were the perfect day. you were the in between, the bridge, the mediator, the olive branch, the fucking dove. you were all of that and more. but now all you were was a bittersweet memory. an empty promise of return as you willingly walked to your end.

n. this story idea has been on my mind for a while, i hope you guys enjoy it! feel free to send me anything about this series or ask to be on the taglist ♡

286 notes · View notes

krinsbez · 1 year

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I posted 22,166 times in 2022

315 posts created (1%)

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I tagged 4,763 of my posts in 2022

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#dracula - 697 posts

#dracula daily - 633 posts

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#star trek - 300 posts

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Longest Tag: 133 characters

#shiver my timbers from muppet treasure island being one of the tiny handful of songs i know by heart that or the major general's song

My Top Posts in 2022:

Random Dracula Thought

Best thing about Dracula Daily so far is confirmation that one of my recollections appears to be correct. Maybe.

We’ll see in a bit.

111 notes - Posted May 8, 2022

Random Dracula Thought, August 11th

Well, shit.

111 notes - Posted August 11, 2022

Random Thoughts

Suddenly reminded of the time Diane Duane (or @dduane as she’s known on tumblr), wrote a fanfic for Young Wizards, AKA her own series.

170 notes - Posted February 22, 2022

Random Dracula Thoughts, May 31st

So, I feel like most of the salient points have probably been covered by other folks I’m gonna RB, so I’m gonna go for an angle I’m hoping hasn’t largely been covered.

What this reminds us is how meticulous and careful The Count is. It’s not enough for him to have Jonathan trapped in his castle, to ensure the poor man has no means to contact the outside world, or to make Jonathan write fake letters to present the illusion all is well.

He is ensuring that, even if, by some miracle, Jonathan is able to escape the castle, he has no winter clothes to enable him to survive long enough to seek help. And further, even if he DOES manage to make it to a town or city, he has no money or papers with which to prove his identity, leaving him stranded in a foreign country where he knows no one and doesn’t speak the local language. Based on what we’re seeing so far, it would not surprise me if The Count has minions planted in the closest towns to make Jonathan out as an escaped lunatic or something, just in case.

(I do not recall if this is actually the case or not)

Keeping in mind, BTW, at this point, I don’t believe Jonathan is useful to The Count’s plans any more; the paperwork is all done, he’s got the fake letters, and Jonathan is too much of a psychological wreck to be an accurate model by which to imitate normal English behavior. So far as I can tell, he’s keeping the man alive solely for the pleasure of psychologically torturing him, presumably something to do when he needs a break from working on his plans for, y’know infiltrating English society and all. And it occurs to me, that, if this is the level of care and attention to detail that Dracula brings to what is, in essence, a pleasant distraction from his actual work, can you imagine what level of planning and effort is going into that?

D’you think Stoker wants us to think about that, or am I just weird?

223 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

RANDOM DRACULA THOUGHTS, September 11th

So, yeah, not only has pop culture and every adaptation done the characters wrong, they've been doing the garlic wrong.

Y'know, there's been a few urban fantasies that have Bram Stoker writing the novel as a stealth guide to vampire hunting, but I wonder if anyone has done something where the movies are a countermove by the vampires?

351 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

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birdcagcd · 2 years

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anonymous said: kotoko, are you satisfied with the results of the first trial? is there anyone you felt didn't deserve their result?

unprompted | -

-- she tilts her head. “ I believe I’ve already mentioned I am not quite satisfied. I do think Es has made some questionable choices, as I would’ve not been quite as lenient, but I think they’re doing alright. “

she shakes her head, gazing off momentarily. “ but if you are asking my thoughts.. “ she pauses, collecting her thoughts. toying with her sleeves momentarily.

-- “ Sakurai Haruka. I don’t think I’d have forgiven him personally, but I am not too dissatisfied with the result. I think it’s made for an interesting development. after all, he seems to have opened up quite a bit. otherwise, he seems stupid and harmless, so I don’t think he requires too much attention at the moment. I am looking into him, however. don’t worry. “

Kotoko crosses her arms. “ he’s just a hassle to get ahold of, without Muu being nearby. and if Muu is nearby, there is not going to come anything out of his mouth that isn’t approved by her. which renders his testaments useless. a shame, really. I do think their relationship has developed quite interestingly, they complete each others needs in a strange kind of way. “

she bites her lower lip, a hand wandering up to cover her mouth, thinking. “ Kashiki Yuno. I have not been able to get anything out of her personally, she seems careless and honestly, it pisses me off. she’s turned her back on everyone, a complete 180, really. I wouldn’t have forgiven her, if just for the chance to beat a confession out of her. “

she’s been a difficult case. all she seems to think about is how to get someone to sleep with her, even though she makes little effort to socialize anymore. maybe there is more to it than Kotoko has been able to discover.

her eyes close. “ Kajiyama Fuuta. “ there’s a dry laugh in her throat. “ he cries like a little bitch. I’m quite satisfied with his guilty, it was very satisfying to bash his face in. Kazui stopped me, but I really wanted to blind him. “ she says with a smile on her face. “ I really hope I get the chance after his next trial. I mean, there is no way he is getting an innocent with his attitude. though, he is really all bark and no bite. I don’t think he poses a real threat. “

and she is very satisfied with that. the next prisoner leaves a more bitter taste in her mouth. “ Kusunoki Muu. how she got forgiven is a mystery to me. “ it is quite frankly, beyond her. Muu gives off nothing but bad vibes, and clearly thrives off of being able to be in control. “ I used to be a little conflicted on her as well, so I suppose I understand Es’ judgement, but the more I’ve learned about her, the more I know, she should’ve been guiltied. I would be very interested in how she would have reacted. “

but what is done, is done. she supposes..

-- “ Shiina Mahiru. a guilty was very benefitting of a manipulative, predatory bitch as her. “ she spits, judgement written in her expression. “ I didn’t kill her, because Es has yet to make their final judgement, but I would much rather not let her anywhere near them ever. “

Mahiru screams predatory to her. and it makes her sick to her stomach. if it went her way, she’d have beaten her into a bloody pulp until she would no longer recognize her own face in the mirror. it’s been very satisfying to see her happy face crumble. nothing tastes better than seeing abusers get a taste of their own medicine.

-- “ Kirisaki Shidou. “ she pauses. “ he’s.. an interesting case. for someone who seems so guilty of his crime, he definitely hesitates in confessing to what exactly he did. there must be much more to it. “ she picks at her nails. “ but, regardless, I wouldn’t have voted him innocent. maybe for the effect, since he wanted a guilty so badly, and the innocent would probably get more of a reaction out of him. actually, solely for that purpose, I might have. I feel like just killing him would be simpler, though. “

she is not that frustrated with his result, though. “ Mukuhara Kazui. he got into the way of me bringing justice. admittedly, I have yet to look into him more, but I am not too dissatisfied with the innocent. I would prefer a guilty now, though. he can not get in the way again. “ that is all she has about him, at the moment. she should focus more on him. but the other prisoners are simply more in the foreground. perhaps he is doing that intentionally. she bites her lip, tapping her chin. hm. an interesting thought.

-- “ Momose Amane. I haven’t seen her recently, she didn’t seem to be very happy with Shidous actions, so Kazui and Shidou seem to have done something about her. I wasn’t there for it, though, and after my quarrel with Kazui I wasn’t quite able to punish her. “ she quirks her eyebrow. “ I know what you want to say. she’s a child. but that doesn’t excuse her, and Es agrees with me. “

she laughs. “ Kayano Mikoto. the man of the hour. “ her voice is dripping with sarcasm. “ he was a lot stronger when I fought him last time. it’s interesting, the way his different.. ‘personalities’ fight. it was almost a pleasant surprise to see him so evenly matched to my skill, this time. “ it’s amusing to her, really. “ a little frustrating nonetheless, but, I am quite certain he will be getting another guilty. so there is nothing to worry about. I am quite sick of his smile, however. it’s sickening how much he tries to act like any of us are friends, or should be such. “

#ic. i manifest my enemies; will i manifest an early grave?#kotoko. I need a good reason to give justice; give me my next purpose.#ask to tag #ask. please text me later the instructions to forget you.#anonymous #kotoko vc here is my power point presentation

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gimblestank-the-goblin · 2 years

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Making A Megadungeon 1 - High Concept

I've been playing DnD for about 15 years now. Started in highschool with 3.5, played 4th a bit and then moved onto 5e which I've been playing since it came out. Been the forever DM the whole time. I've also a huge fan of metroidvanias basically my whole life, and the Soulsborne stuff since it came out.

So you can imagine I've always loved the idea of making a megadungeon.

And then I came across Megadungeon Monday (https://theangrygm.com/category/megadungeon/page/2/) and I decided to do it. And a friend convinced me to start posting my process.

Fair cop, I've gotten a decent portion of this done already but I'm going to write this down as if I'm still working out my thoughts. I want to try and capture what I was thinking when I started this whole thing for posterity's sake.

With all that said, lets get started!

The High Concept

First thing we need to do, or at least I chose to do, was to decide what we wanted I wanted my megadungeon to be. And there are a lot of options, because the megadungeon can be basically anything. But there were a couple key features I wanted to make sure the dungeon covered:

· Low Barrier to Entry. I want my dungeon to be pick up and play. I don’t want players to have to come up with complex motivations for why they are here or to have to read up on any setting lore to understand what is going on.

· Episodic Play. I want play to be story light in order to focus on episodic play. I should be able to run this dungeon with whoever shows up for a session and not run into any trouble.

· Varied Threats. Megadungeons are combat heavy by design, but I still want some variety in order to spice up play. Traps, social encounters and other varied encounters should be supported.

· Multiple Factions. Every good megadungeon has multiple factions. This helps drive more varied encounter design.

I should note that I didn’t spell that all out at the beginning. While I am laying out my process in a rough chronological order to help with clarity, a lot of this was an organic process. That said, with my main points decided, I start brainstorming ideas for a dungeon.

· Dracula’s Castle from Castlevania. Like I said, I love megadungeons and a magical castle holding all the evil creatures of the world is the perfect place for one. Honestly, I would have gone for this one if I didn’t want my first megadungeon to be entirely my own creation.

· Portal to Hell. The “dungeon” is actually a layer of the abyss designed to entice mortals with the promise of gold and then murder them. Skilled and lucky adventurers can get out alive but most are meat for the gristle. Again, the gonzo nature of the Abyss should allow for a lot of variety. Can throw in a twist about the magic gold being cursed or something.

· Tomb. Egyptian Tombs are a classic and since I grew up on pulp fantasy I would really enjoy throwing in some good ol’ magic Egypt. That and I’ve been doing Exalted stuff recently and I really like the idea of the old Solar Tombs. Having to build a tomb to appease the ghost of someone you killed sounds really fun.

In the end, I decide on the Solar Tomb. It’s a classic and I like the idea of a tomb which purports to be about how great this guy is but in actuality is just written to appease his ghosts ego. It’s a fun twist and gives the players a cool final boss to fight.

So to Recap, what’s our High Concept?

Egyptian Tomb

· Filled with treasure, so it has an obvious reason for players to be there

· Lots of variety. Can do constructs and undead really easily as two factions. Can have other groups attempting to raid the tomb for their own purposes as well to get more factions going.

· Speaking of factions, I am thinking of making this a Gold Rush kind of situation. The players are going to need somewhere to spend their gold so why not have a whole town spring up around raiding the tomb. That also gives the fun idea of other adventurers as their own faction. Players will have to contend with other adventuring parties raiding the tomb and can develop unique relationships with each party.

That’s a good start, I think. We’ve got the basic idea for a dungeon down and some interesting avenue’s to pursue. Next time we’ll get into some math under the hood to figure out how many encounters the dungeon is going to consist of and its critical path.

#megadungeon #dnd #5e

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allmightluver · 3 years

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**bnha spoilers** I'm just sat here with renewed realisation of what All Might is going through. 40 years. /40 years/ he held and refined that power and dedicated his every waking (and sleeping if Vigilantes is anything to go by) moment towards the goal of defeating AfO and creating a society in which people could feel happy and safe. And now as it turns out AfO is still alive, society is broken and he has given a literal piece of his soul to this young boy leaving himself with only phantoms

Yes. I don’t think people quite grasp what all he’s going through.

It’s been shown recently to us that some, if not most, heroes have underlying ambitions in becoming a hero. Whether for money, glory, fame, popularity, doesn’t matter. They’re ultimately in it for themselves. Toshinori’s intentions from the beginning have been the most pure- he wanted to be a symbol that people can look to and know things will be ok. A symbol of hope. This boy was only around 14 years old when he decided this. What kind of 14 year old sees the world that clearly? Sees that people have no hope, that a veil of darkness covers them. The only thing I can think of is- Toshinori did not have a good childhood. Something had to have happened to a boy that young to stop seeing the joy in life so early, and see the world’s flaws. Truthfully, I believe he was an outcast- due to his quirklessness. Most likely an orphan, perhaps abandoned by his parents, as we’ve never seen him have any family. I do truly believe Toshinori has been alone all his life. I don’t doubt more could have happened to him as a child before he met Nana.

Some may argue that Izuku is the same age, and therefore it shouldn’t be that hard to see why Toshinori wanted to be a hero at such a young age. BUT, Izuku had someone to look up to, ever since he was a child of four years old, to inspire him to be a hero his whole life *cough cough* All Might. Izuku also was quirkless, much like Toshinori, and an outcast because of it (hence where I assume Toshinori was much the same). But ultimately, Izuku wanted to save people because he saw his hero do it. It really wasn’t until Izuku was a bit older, has been in UA, has been on rescue missions, has seen what the heroes see, that I think he’s truly realized how dark the world really is. Toshinori didn’t have that. He didn’t have someone to inspire him as a child, someone to look up to, a hero to inspire him to help others. At that time, heroes hadn’t become as popular as they are in present times. Toshinori saw the world for what it was, on his own, at a tender age. I think that day Nana ran into this blonde hair kid, she eyed him up, noticed his scraggly form, looked into those captivating blue eyes, and saw a man who’s lived through the world’s horrors- experienced the worst it has to offer-, and wants to save everyone he can from the same fate, all in a 14 year old boy.

Then after only a few short years with the woman he saw as his mother, she’s killed in front of him because of his own weakness- he wasn’t strong enough yet to protect her. The only other person his life, Gran Torino, literally abused him. He beat him to a pulp, taking his own emotions out on a teenager, and I doubt Toshinori said anything of it. He probably thought he deserved it. He’s still afraid of Gran Torino to this day, remembering the beatings and expecting more for his failures- even if he doesn’t know what they are surely he’s at fault for something, but he’s the only person who’s stood by his side for this long. Even while at a distance, and spouting nothing but criticisms along the way. But Toshinori had to put aside his own emotions to be that hope for everyone. He left everything he knew to go to a new country on his own, to learn how to be a hero, to be that hope for someone.

Vigilantes showed us just how hard he worked. Toshinori literally stayed awake with no sleep for days on end- 3 in the chapter I’m referencing- because people needed help, people needed saving, and no one else stepped up. He fought villains, rescued civilians, repaired damage, cleared rubble, (even accept and eat food that was against his dietary restrictions after his injury) whatever the public needed, all while draining himself further. He worked himself to the point of exhaustion because he had no help, once literally falling asleep while mid-leap across the city because he simply could go no further.

^^These happen in succession of each other^^

No one stepped up to say “Hey, Mr. Number 1, you’ve been working hard lately. Let me help you!” No one tried to take over his position. Even the Number 2 hero, Endeavor, never tried to take some of his burden. His only goal was to try to be better than All Might in terms of power- he was never trying to be the hero that the people relied on All Might for. Everyone relied on him when things looked grim. He was the back up plan. And all of this happened before Toshinori’s injury.

The only thing he ever wanted to do- help people- he can’t do (at least the way he’s always known how to). The ability to save people has been taken from him in the most gruesome way. He was finally able to fight the man that killed Nana, and in a rage that I’m sure echoed with all of the emotions of the previous users, he smashed that man’s head like a grape. But not without consequence. Several organs are gone. The pain is excruciating. He wears that man’s mark on his body for the rest of his life, never truly able to rid himself of the filth.

Then we have Nighteye’s betrayal. The man that helped him as a sidekick, the man that grew to be his only friend. Now some people may ask why Toshinori flipped like he did to Nighteye looking into his future when he was concerned about him making it through his injury. What I believe is Toshinori didn’t want to know when he would die (and really, who does). Now he knows he’s on a time limit, knows the clock is ticking. Time is running out to keep the world at peace, and with him as he is now, how long can this go on?

I think the betrayal, doing something that Toshinori specifically asked him not to do, is what hurt the most. How can he trust Nighteye anymore? He already can only count on one hand the people he can trust, let alone befriend.

He’s wasted away into a skeleton, a shell of the man he used to be. He can’t over exert himself without his only lung bleeding in protest. It’s canon in the side books that he really doesn’t eat much, which isn’t good for his diet without a stomach now (he’s supposed to have several small meals a day). He is quite literally punishing himself by starving. (Granted, he doesn’t feel hunger anymore.) He’s a sick man, beyond medical help at this point. They can only stabilize him and hope for the best. For five years now he’s in constant pain, every day. He loses blood like sweat. Surely his veins are bruised and collapsed with how many times he would have needed to be hospitalized. Whether from losing too much blood, being too dehydrated or starved from “forgetting” to eat, or an organ failing as body continues to fall apart. “...even as my body rots and grows frail...” - Toshinori People are bound to stare at him as he walks down the street. A tall, willowy, skeleton with a grimace on his face and blood stains on his clothes as he coughs up more into his own hands. There would be the ones who outright ignore him when they walk by, the people who offer pitying smiles and sympathetic glances or just outright stare, and then ones who are afraid of his appearance- children screaming at the mere sight of him and running to their parents to hide from the monster. Each one is another knife in Toshinori’s side, an ache in his chest. If only they knew who I really am.

Losing Nighteye took a toll on his hero work as well. Mirai was a huge help in the past, and took care of all Toshinori’s paperwork, while also reminding him to take care of himself. Without him, Toshinori was even more buried beneath his responsibilities. Plus, now he was on a time limit. He even snapped briefly in his first meeting with Tsukauchi, accidentally revealing himself as All Might because he was under too much pressure, and telling the detective he literally couldn’t handle doing everything by himself (who graciously took over the paperwork side of things for him).

He was living a double life now, having to lie to people left and right about who he was while in his small form, about how he became so sickly, why he was here in the first place who the heck is this skinny old guy. Surely he had multiple visits to the doctor while continuing to repair the damage done by AFO (there’s a limit to how much the body can handle at once. And things I’m sure continued to fail as time went on). Then he would be bedridden for as long as the doctors could keep him strapped to a bed, until he couldn’t take the people’s cries for help any longer, and would jump into action. (It’s also revealed he has something of a super hearing- able to hear danger- which may have been a form of danger sense of OFA that was never fully unlocked?. Either way, he surly could sense disasters happening while he could only lay and heal from his latest surgery. Those poor doctors must have had to re-stitch him several times). People blame him for not preparing society for his retirement, that he failed in passing on the torch so to speak, but in reality he did everything possible to keep society from falling for 40 years, doing all within his power just to keep things afloat. He is only one person. One human being, he can’t do everything despite trying to. Society failed All Might.

People blame him for not being a good teacher. He didn’t exactly have the greatest teacher himself to learn from. He’s never had to teach anyone anything, he just punches! He’s learning. And for his own credit, he’s an incredibly wise man, he has years of experience under his belt, and an intelligence score of 6/6, scoring up there with Nezu! He may not always have the right way to bring something up, but he’s doing his best. Yet even he blames himself for Izuku not being able to control his quirk better. Every time the boy hurts himself, it’s just another tally on the chalkboard of Toshinori’s failures. He himself knows the boy deserves better, better than him. Useless. Pathetic.

Then his friend from America, Dave, essentially became a villain trying to preserve Toshinori’s legacy after Toshinori told him about his injury. Dave went behind his back, threatened people, injured people (pretty sure people died), all for Toshinori’s sake. Something he didn’t want to begin with. Having to put your only other friend in jail for trying to help you surely couldn’t have been easy.

Oh, by the way? All For One isn’t dead. All Might will fight him again, publicly, have his weakened form exposed to the world, and have his own emotions toyed with as he finds out about his master’s grandson in the villain’s hands. Would Nana hate him for leaving her son alone like she’d asked, and dooming her grandchild to be raised by the greatest villain? Could he have done anything to save him? But Toshinori isn’t allowed to feel, he has to smile and push his own feelings aside once again, because there’s a villain to be fought, and only he can fight him. Despite coming out on top, he’ll have suffered severe head trauma, broken left arm, destroyed right arm, and several cuts and bruises that are sure to scar. And then, his quirk, the only thing that’s been allowing him to help people, the gift given to him that he carefully held for 40 years and molded into his own until his very consciousness was permanently carved into it, blows out like a match in the wind. And he’s done. Used up. Empty. Broken. Hollow. Alone, again.

He overhears his student, Bakugo, admit that he blames himself for All Might’s retirement. If he hadn’t been captured, All Might wouldn’t have had to save him, and he wouldn’t have had to fight AFO. Of course Toshinori knows that’s not true, his time was about to run out anyway. It would have happened one way or another. But how can he explain to this child that he wasn’t the cause of his hero, the world’s greatest hero, fighting for his sake, bleeding for his sake, being forced into retirement to keep him safe. Every time Bakugo sees the bandages covering Toshinori’s body is another reminder of the pain and sacrifice Toshinori willingly gave to keep him safe. Toshinori wasn’t held when his mentor died. He wasn’t told it was ok to be sad, that grief and mourning was a natural process, that it takes time to heal. He wasn’t told it was ok to cry. Instead his feelings were beaten out of him as he wondered if Gran Torino blamed him for Nana’s death. He already blamed himself How then, does he comfort a child mourning for him? For what he lost.

And then he gets the call to come to the hospital. Mirai, Nighteye, his old sidekick friend, has been gravely injured, much like he himself was only a few years ago, and most likely won’t survive the night. And to his horror, Nighteye is happy to see him, smiles at him, says he doesn’t hate him for what happened, only wants Toshinori to be happy. He can’t accept that, at least let him apologize, reconcile his sins before it’s too late! But it is. Another fractured piece of his heart gone.

Of course, seeing your students beat up and their arms completely destroyed must have hurt. Instead of being able to save these kids, they’re the ones that hurt themselves to save everyone else. And if Bakugo had kept OFA, things could have been very different (especially with what we know now of OFA and people with quirks). Toshinori wasn’t mad at Izuku for transferring it away, he’d never regret choosing Izuku, and I believe he still would have stayed by Izuku and Bakugo’s side should it have stayed in Bakugo, doing whatever he could to help.

As he tells Aizawa, “I’ve decided to live,” -that statement seems so melancholy, besides obvious reasons. It sounds more like another task he has to accomplish. He didn’t die he was supposed to die with the AFO fight, and now the whole life he lived is over. The world has no use for him anymore. If not for Izuku, he’d have nothing left keeping him here. But because his boy made him promise to live, he’ll do so. Though it almost seems like he says those words with regret. “I’ve decided to live.” Not, “I’m going to live!” “Nothing can kill me!” “I won’t go down without a fight!” No. “I’ll live if I have to, only because you asked me to.” The man is obviously and outwardly depressed. He has so many things against him. No doubt has severe PTSD, anxiety, among others. Not to mention his own physical health. Every day hurts. It’s painful to be alive. Why would he torture himself if he doesn’t have to? For you, my boy. You’re the only thing keeping me here. The only light in my dark world.

He tries to help Izuku find out the previous holder’s quirks, to help his boy in any way he can now that he’s worthless, and goes days on end without sleep, running his body into the ground. He even forgets Christmas. Only to find that by giving the boy the same gift he had received, he may have just doomed him to an early death, among psychological torture (danger detection). (Granted, he really doesn’t know how everything works, and he’s afraid to talk to anyone about it). His boy could live only half a life.

It’s only been a few months since he retired, and society has fallen into shambles. People are blaming him. People are dying. He watches helplessly as his colleague fight his fight for him, and end up battered, bruised, crippled, dead. He students, his boy, battle the monster he should have killed. Children are bleeding. This shouldn’t happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Is everything he worked for, everything he fought to protect, to build up, to inspire, is all for naught?! Did he live a foolish dream and doom the world? Was all the the friends he lost, tears he shed, the organs he destroyed, the pain he endures on a daily basis from the hole in his side, and the blood he continues to bleed every day, for nothing? The public, the ones he protected for so long, mourn his absence, but surely there are those among them who also blame him. The statue from his last fight in Kamino one that he never asked for was decimated in a mock of his catch phrase- the one that was supposed to give hope.

Now he can feel his own vestige speaking with Izuku in the OFA realm, even with out OFA in his own body anymore. His clock as nearly reached it’s limit, Nighteye’s prediction is due any day now. The only thing he wants is to see his boy smile at him, to give him some shred of hope. Yet the child remains unconscious, and Toshinori can’t even hold his hand from the bandages covering his arms. Will he still be able to fight? Is there any coming back from this now? Did I break him?

With all Toshinori has been through, I’m honestly surprised we haven’t seen him just outright break down. Anyone, anyone, else should have crumbled under the pressure of holding up the world for 40 years alone. And instead of being able to pass it on to someone when he can no longer bear its weight, it simply falls to into the abyss. People don’t credit All Might enough for everything he’s done. Most don’t realize the sacrifices he’s made. His character is so unbelievably profound and deep, it’s more than just the “I am here!” people focus on. He’s a deeply troubled, layered, complex character. And I can’t find fault within him.

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

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eternity. [zhongli/reader]

prompt: arranged marriage royalty au with zhongli, in which you are the child of the dendro archon, sent to marry the emperor of liyue. pairing: emperor!zhongli/f!royalty!reader word count: 3.8k warnings: fluff, kissing scene (don’t tell my mom) a/n: SUPER close to being gn!reader! i just couldn’t think of a gender-neutral term for empress, which is used twice in this story. otherwise, it’s completely gender-neutral if that sort of thing doesn’t bother you! there will be one of these for both diluc and childe too sometime close in the future! additional note: i tried my best to respect the culture liyue is based off (chinese) by incorporating some small aspects of chinese culture (clothes + titles)! if any of these are done incorrectly, please please PLEASE let me know so i can fix it!

to say you were nervous to meet your future husband was an understatement. you were a child of the dendro archon, an heir of the monarchist nation of sumeru. third-in-line for the throne, you held no chance of inheriting the throne. so, upon your 200th birthday and years of studying to be a scholar, your parents decided that marrying you off to another kingdom was the best choice for your destiny.

you just hadn’t expected it to be the reclusive archon emperor of liyue.

upon your first meeting with him, you were shaken to the core. he was sharp on the edges, yet easy on the eyes. his gaze was intense, amber eyes holding a subdued ferocity within their depths. his figure briefly alluded to the hidden power that lies within him, an unusual form for a god of war. he towered over you in height, reminiscent of the mountain scenery you had witnessed upon your journey to liyue’s capital. despite your worries, you did your best to remain cordial and gave a standing bow in his direction upon first meeting him.

any intimidating impression you had of him shattered at that instant as a deep, yet kind laugh escaped his lips at your actions.

“please, there is no need to bow,” the geo archon explained. “we are to be equals, are we not?”

one thing you hadn’t expected was for the geo archon, zhongli, as he insisted you call him, to have your same affinity for reading. being raised in a nation of scholars meant that their royal heirs were expected to always have their noses in a book and, fortunately for you, you had been more than happy to do so. the geo archon’s palace, situated on the edge of liyue harbor, had a library that rivaled that of your motherland’s.

upon hearing from his service staff that you had taken a liking to the royal library, zhongli had made it a point to come and read with you. the first time he had done so, you were so enthralled by the pulp fiction romance novel you had picked up that you had failed to acknowledge his presence. rather than interrupting you, the geo archon had silently sat down on the plush armchair, distanced from yours by a coffee table, and opened up a book as well. you hadn’t noted the turning of his pages and, if not for a servant to interrupt your train of thought to set tea down on the table before you, you weren’t sure if you ever would have noticed.

“oh, pardon me, i did not request any t-” you stated while the sentence you were reading. however, the words died on your lips as you glanced up, realizing the emperor and the servant were now both sitting before you. “oh.”

the single word escaped your mouth before you could stop it, but, fortunately, zhongli interpreted it as what you meant it as: a statement of surprise, not one of disappointment. a soft amusement twinkled in his eyes at your widened eyes, you being clearly shaken by not having noticed him sitting before you. he turns and smiles at the nervous-looking staff member and allows the man to depart the scene, who quickly scurries off.

“i hope i am not intruding,” zhongli states, turning the book in his hands over and resting it on his lap, pages downward. he leans forward, gently grasps his teacup (black tea, you noted, looking at its contents) and stirs it with an ornate, white iron spoon, cor lapis embedded in its handle. “the tea was merely a precautionary gesture. if you do not wish to drink any, please do not feel obligated to.”

you feel a faint heat rise to your cheeks, embarrassed at the thought of seeming like you were ungrateful for his kind gesture. he likely just wanted the tea for himself and did not wish to be rude, you told yourself.

“i- it’s not that,” your voice stammers in a soft tone, worried about your noise level within the quiet aisles of the library. “i just did not wish to have the hardworking service staff unnecessarily cater to me for something i did not place an order for. however, i appreciate the gracious gesture and am no longer perturbed by the action, knowing that it was something you called for. i appreciate the hospitality.”

the brunette quirked an eyebrow upwards and hovered his lips above his golden-and-white teacup before blowing softly on the liquid. you noted the geo elemental insignia molded into the bottom of the mug, seeming to glow the same color as his eyes.

“is that so?” zhongli’s words had an aura of amusement interwoven into them, entertained by your dissertation-length explanation. you nodded, feeling your face burn with bashfulness, and quickly redirected your gaze to the book at hand.

“pardon my interruption, but what is the book you are reading? you seem to be quite enthralled by it.”

the book held an illustration of a shirtless man holding a fair maiden close to him in front of the ocean, about as cheesy as you could get for any book cover. you weren’t sure how you were going to survive this conversation.

“it’s called… um…” you trail off, speaking in an even quieter tone than before. “love on the sea of clouds.”

if zhongli’s eyes held a faint amusement within them before, the amber pools are now glistening with delight. a chuckle escapes his lips. “oh? that’s one of my favorites.”

---

zhongli managed to contradict nearly any expectation you held of his behavior before you had met him. like most royals, you had expected him to act in an uncouth, entitled manner, who placed self-indulgence before the care of others. now, as you sat next to him in a meeting with the qixing, you realized he placed the care of his nation first and foremost. your mind trailed off as you watched his amber eyes shift with every word he spoke, his eyebrows making the most subtle of movements as his lips parted and closed. of course you were paying attention to what he was saying! you definitely weren’t using this as a chance to burn his visage into your mind!

“what do you think, (y/n)?” zhongli asks, turning to look at you. despite the two of you having a rather different fundamental knowledge of the world, his having been cultivated from his experiences leading liyue, and yours having been crafted from the presence of sumerian scholars, zhongli deeply valued your input on issues affecting liyue. he cherished the unique perspective you could provide on the nation’s affairs. normally, you were more than happy to oblige and help. one day, you would be his right-hand, his equal, he had once told you, but for now, you were not yet married and still acclimating to becoming a liyuean royal.

but at this moment? you feel ice cold mortification trickling into your veins. your failure to pay attention was now catching up to you as zhongli and the rest of the qixing looked at you, anticipating your response.

“well,” you calmly stated, trying to gather your thoughts. “i believe that to be a good idea, but…” you glanced away, pretending to be lost in thought. “you also need to consider the changing societal expectations of liyueans before doing such a thing.”

the answer was pulled completely out of your ass, but the spritely yuheng, keqing, could not have been more thrilled at your words. she immediately launched into a lengthy diatribe of agreeance, using your words to help back up her point. oh, harbor management. that’s what they were talking about.

as you forced yourself to pay attention to keqing, rather than ogling your husband-to-be again, you noticed a slight smirk cross his face out of the corner of your eye. to any of the other qixing in the room, it would seem like zhongli was happy with your answer, but you knew better. he knew you had spaced off staring at him and had put you on the spot to fluster you. his eyes were glowing with the amusement you had come to be familiar with.

---

your wedding date is approaching when zhongli arrives at your chambers one morning, guards and servants cast aside. he’s dressed in an ornate golden-brown suit, adorned with silver accents and matching gloves. the outfit, while complex, is a change of pace from his usual robes and traditional liyuean attire, reminding you instead of a well-dressed businessman.

“hello,” he speaks, looking slightly nervous, as if he doesn’t know the words to say. “would you like to accompany me somewhere?”

zhongli waits patiently for you to get ready in the sitting area of your chambers. you elect for an outfit that reminds you of his -- something respectful, yet less extravagant than typical royal garments. you arrive back to zhongli, your presence snapping him out of his reverie. his worry-ladened expression softens at your arrival and he musters a soft smile before standing up and extending a hand to you.

“shall we?”

---

zhongli takes you to a secluded memorial within the palace gardens, one you wouldn’t have noticed unless it was pointed out to you. the entrance is obscured by a variety of hanging plants, meaning that only those who know of its presence are likely to find it. zhongli’s grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly as he pauses at the entrance, before stepping forward, guiding you behind him.

the memorial, protected from the sun with plant-interwoven latticework, provides a sanctuary of shade from the warm atmosphere of the otherwise outdoor gardens. through the holes created by gaps in the foliage of ivy and sturdy lattice wood, sunlight filters in, allowing the marble statue of the woman within to glow in the sunlight. she’s dressed in antique robes, the kind you recognize from museums and your studies of old cultures. a warm smile sits on her face and her irises, made of cor lapis, shine with a kindness and wisdom reminiscent of zhongli’s. her arms are outstretched and cupped, as if she’s offering something to whoever views her statue.

zhongli takes the initiative to place the blossom of one of the glaze lilies growing near her feet within her palms and he lets out a soft sigh.

“this is guizhong, my first wife,” he explains, sitting down on the stone bench by the entrance. crystalflies flutter around your heads, their typically skittish nature calmed by the presence of the statue. “forgive me if this is too strong, but i brought you here for a chance to meet her.”

“she’s beautiful,” you state, glancing from the statue to look at zhongli. he looks worried, as if he’s afraid you’ll lash out at him for such a gesture. “thank you.”

“‘thank you’?” zhongli echoes, confused. you smile at him.

“if she is important to you, she is important to me,” you give the hand that still holds yours a reassuring squeeze, and zhongli gives you a smile, a genuine smile, his expression painted with relief and gratitude towards your statement. “would you like to tell me about her?”

zhongli parts his lips, lets out a soft chuckle, clearly having worked himself up over how this conversation would go. “guizhong lived many millenia ago and was known as the goddess of dust…” he begins, and unlike certain conversations prior, you listen attentively to his words, the outside world is forgotten to the two of you as zhongli tells you all about the first empress of liyue.

---

zhongli takes you to his favorite restaurant in liyue harbor that evening. the typically bustling patio is devoid of any other people, aside from fellow workers. zhongli had first explained, when you sat down, that normally he doesn’t mind eating amongst his constituents and typically prefers to do so, but wished to focus solely on you this evening. you had stammered profusely upon him saying this and he simply gave you an innocent smile, but zhongli’s eyes revealed that he knew of the effect he had on you.

tonight was a special night in liyue. the castle grounds had opened for one of the biggest festivals, the yearly lantern festival, and zhongli had chosen to spend it with you in seclusion. he loved his people, but always had been a reclusive god, typically only appearing to most citizens at the rite of descension. however, he did have his moments, such as now, where he traversed amongst the common folk, while still maintaining an aura of distance. he always felt a disconnect from his people, saying they preferred to view him as a holy figure rather than a true emperor. you never failed to notice the glint of longing in his eyes when he spoke of the idea of being able to truly fit in with humanity.

but those thoughts had been cast away for a quiet evening as the two of you placed your orders, with zhongli ordering half the menu. you have yet to try most liyuean cuisine, what’s a better time than now? he had said upon your confusion. zhongli’s rationale was an impregnable defense.

zhongli smiles at you, his brilliant white teeth glinting in the soft light of the restaurant’s festive lanterns. as the two of you wait for your food, he takes your hand, resting on the table, and interlaces your fingers. your eyes widen briefly, but you give his hand a light, reassuring squeeze in return.

“you look beautiful tonight,” he says, gesturing to the traditional festival garments you had adorned yourself in. you had asked the liyuean royal stylist if she had any liyuean hanfu for you to wear and she had clapped her hands excitedly and told you she had been waiting for you to ask.

“are you saying i don’t look beautiful every day?” you tease, causing zhongli’s eyes to widen and eyebrows to raise. he immediately began to dispute your claim, but your sweetened laughter caused his argument to fall short as he smiled at your amusement, even if it had been at his expense.

“oh!” zhongli exclaimed after your laughter had died down. “i have something for you.” the idea of receiving another gift, after zhongli had taken the time to reserve the restaurant and spend the day with you, caused yet another wave of heat to rise to your face, something that seemed to be a frequent occurrence as you spent time with him. zhongli’s non-occupied gently slides a ring box across the table, and, for a split second, a brief flash of lightheadedness crosses over you, but you remain heavy. oh my archons.

your hand detangles itself from his and cradles the box as if its made of the most fragile materials, before carefully opening it. a gasp escapes your lips upon seeing the ring inside. crafted of a brilliant cut of noctilucuous jade, the ring is a long, winding ring that wraps around the finger several times and is in the shape of a dragon, two small, cor lapis eyes embedded on its head.

“this is your exuvia, no?” you ask, looking up at zhongli. “it’s magnificent. thank you” upon your words, zhongli looks away, bashful as he nods and softly smiles in response.

“i am aware that upon signing the wedding contract, rings are a customary exchange in sumeru, even if they are not a liyuean tradition,” zhongli confesses and you feel your heart melt a bit at his consideration for your homeland’s culture. “additionally…” he trails off, his cheeks flushing as he sees you situate the gift on your ring finger and gaze at it admirably.

“hmm?” you ask, glancing up upon realizing he trailed off. a nervous look passes over his eyes and you smile encouragingly.

“it’s also a… public display of our contract, to show that my heart is solely within your possession,” zhongli admits, his words soft. his hand fumbles for yours, returning to the interlocked nature they held earlier in your conversation. rather than looking away, however, zhongli gazes upon you with an intensity in his eyes that you’ve had yet to see. his eyes lock on yours and you are reminded, for the first time, that this man is a god of war. a ferocious honesty dances within the honeyed depths, imploring you to recognize the veracity of his words.

“your heart?” you echo, for rex lapis is a god of war, but you are no longer afraid of bloodshed.

“ah,” he breathes, “perhaps i have not elaborated enough. i am in love with you, my empress. the luminosity of your eyes outshine even the most radiant of geoculi, your intellect and ceaseless conviction in improving your wisdom lays even the most studious of scholars to shame, your heart fueled with the golden blood of the greatest of immortals, the kind whom dedicate their lives to those who do not have the luxury of forever, unlike the-” zhongli’s words are harshly interrupted as you stand up, fueled by an adrenaline rush. you rip your hand out of his and the emperor fears that he may have overstepped boundaries, having been too intense with his words and affections for you.

you assuage his panic as you swiftly move around the table that separates the two of you and cup his face in your hands, bending over to meld your lips upon his. the archon responds nearly immediately, his hand wrapping around your waist, ushering you to rest upon his lap, rather than be forced to lean over. your lips part and the archon deepens the kiss, his free hand reaching up to cradle your head, gently brushing against your hair, treating you as if you’re made of fine china.

when the two of you finally part, zhongli looks at you with an expression of fondness and adoration. you make a move to stand up, but zhongli’s arm tightens around your waist.

“stay,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “please.” his grip loosens, allowing you to make your escape if you wish, but instead you sit sideways on his lap, leaning in to rest your shoulder upon his chest, your head nestling into where his shoulder meets his neck. your hand once again interlaces with his free one and you feel his thumb swirl the ring around on your finger. as you look down at your hands, zhongli nudges you ever so slightly.

“look,” zhongly whispers, his lips upon your ear. you have to prevent yourself from shivering in response to the low vibrations. “the first lantern, lit for the empress.” “is that a tradition?” you ask, surprised as you watch the first lantern fly high into the night sky above you. zhongli chuckles.

“i can see to it that such an action becomes a festival tradition, if you’d like,” zhongli offers sincerely and you give an airy giggle in response.

the night continues on and as you’re about to fall asleep to the sound of zhongli explaining the history of the liyuean lantern festival and the vibrations produced from his chest, the two of you are forced to part as the servers bring out your food. you sheepishly move back to your own seat, embarrassed to be caught in such a compromising, intimate position. however, zhongli looks the opposite, sending an unabashedly smug grin in your direction. as the geo archon tells you about each dish and their origins, your heart melts at the idea of realizing that you’ll spend forever with this man, waking up at each other’s side every day. upon this revelation, a question pops into your mind.

“zhongli,” you begin, making sure to tone your words with one of innocent inquisition, not accusation. “of every being in teyvat, you chose me. you’re the geo archon and emperor of the most economically prosperous nation, you could’ve had anyone. what made you agree to marry me?”

you await zhongli’s answer while munching on another jade parcel, your favorite dish of the night.

“oh,” zhongli responds, a bit startled that you asked such a question. “i was enthralled by your work published within the sumeru arcademia. your work on the historical and economic analysis on the inazuman tea industry was quite fascinating.”

you pause for a brief moment, before an uncharacteristic, raucous laughter escapes your lips. upon this, zhongli looks at you sheepishly and a bit confused.

“is such a thing peculiar to do?” he inquires, causing a break in your laughter to reassure him.

“yes, absolutely,” you confirm to your lover. “but i absolutely adore such a notion! tell me, what was about my financial prose that made you desire to bed me?”

upon your words, zhongli flushes a deep shade of scarlet, darker than what you’ve seen before. you decide it’s your new favorite color.

---

the date of your wedding arrives and your emotions are a far cry from the ones you experienced when you first stepped foot in the liyuean royal palace. the emperor, known to some as the fearsome god of war, to others as the strict morax, god of contracts, is now known to you by the sweet name of zhongli, a name reserved for you and you alone. rather than relishing in the bloodlust of the battlefield as he once did when he was much younger, rex lapis now desires your companionship and velvet touch.

when he was a much younger archon, he had not told the woman he loved his true emotions until it was too late. while they had ruled together, they had remained nothing more than friends due to his hestiance. but now, zhongli knew what he desired and was determined to let you know his affections before it was too late.

as you step foot into the palace chapel, all eyes are on you, but the only ones you care about are those of your lover, zhongli. you float down the aisle, captivating all onlookers in an outfit that fuses both the sumerian fashion of your past and the liyuean styles of your future. at the end of the aisle awaits your emperor, your lover, your husband, and the two of you will combine your two eternities into one. together, you will sign an eternal contract with the god of contracts, your first one with such a deity, yet your most important one.

with this thought in mind, you smile at your lover as you meet him at the altar, taking his hands in yours. with locked eyes, the two of you grin, ready to sign the contract of forever.

#i got carried away this was supposed to be just a scenario but emperor!zhongli has my heart #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli #genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fluff #*zhongli #*writing #*fic #*50 follower celebration

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Of Kings and Beasts - Eight

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Fluff,

Word Count: 3.6K

A/n: I’m alive! I know, it’s been like 4 months. I honestly didn't know how to ‘come back’ so this is it. I’ll be answering asks and messages tonight, but things are going okay. I work 54 hours a week so I’m not writing as much as I’d like to but I’m trying!!! I love you all so much, and I hope you enjoy this!

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

The doctor lies unmoving on a medical cot, stitches across his throat to close the gouge that was meant to end his life.

“Do we have any idea who is behind this? Or why?” Steve asks quietly, eyes darting between his most trusted man and his husband.

“I do not know who is behind it, but I think they are aware that we know.” Steve’s brows pull together at his husband’s words, and he waits for him to continue.

James huffs out a deep breath, glancing around the small room as if checking for any listening ears.

“Doctor Banner found an incision on the base of my skull. Someone has performed an operation on me without my knowing. I’m assuming the Doctor found something out, and while on his way to find me he was ambushed.”

Steve’s still stuck on the fact that his husband has been tampered with.

“What do you mean someone performed an operation on you?” James shakes his head. “I’m not sure what they did, but I have reason to believe that it is why I have been so hostile towards... our wife.” He fears saying your name. He doesn’t want anything to trigger the beast.

“How long have you known this?” Steve demands, angry that James would keep something like this from him.

“Since the day she went out into the snow. I was not sure who I could trust. I still know not. But one thing is certain: someone means to kill our wife and destroy our marriage, and it is someone close to us.” Regret instantly fills the blond king and he excuses himself without another word, head swarming with thoughts that include nothing but pain and punishment.

His feet take him down the spiral staircase, his hands wrenching open the cell door and grabbing the prisoner by his collar.

“Who is it that sent you?! Tell me! Now!” The man is confused for a moment before a yellow-toothed grin splits his face.

“You will tell me now!” Steve pulls his fist back and slams it against the man’s face, but the prisoner only laughs manically.

“Who is it that intends on hurting my wife? On ruining my marriage?” The man shakes his head, blood dribbling down his chin.

“The only one who ruins your marriage and hurts your wife is you, your majesty. But from what I hear through the walls, your bloodline ends with you. The great Kings of the West will be nothing more than fairytales. Their whore wife, a forgotten name. And that will be your doing.” Steve’s vision clouds and he unleashes his fury upon the prisoner, beating him to a bloody pulp until his face is hardly visible.

The King stumbles back, chest heaving and fists covered in blood, while the man slumps to the floor, wheezing and gasping.

“Cut off one head... two more shall take its place,” is the last thing the man utters before collapsing in a pool of his own blood.

Steve stands there, furious and dumbfounded. He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t realize he isn’t alone anymore until a cool hand is on his shoulder, turning him around.

“What happened?” James asks, his eyes on the dead man on the floor and then on his husband’s bloody fists.

“Your assumption is correct. Someone has orchestrated this and we are being toyed with. Where’s (Y/n)?” The mention of your name has James squeezing his eyes shut as the beast bares its fangs.

“I know not. But you haven’t time for that. Thor and Anthony should be here within the hour. You need to make yourself presentable. We will tell them of our problem and see if they can offer any assistance.” Steve doesn’t want to meet with the other Kings. No, he wants to find you and get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, of which you may or may not grant, but he’s willing to beg and plead in front of his entire kingdom if he needs to.

“Come on. Let’s go get you cleaned up.” James ushers the blond out of the dungeon and to his chambers, his mind racing as he tries to piece the mystery together.

~*~

Your eyes trace over the trails etched in the book in your grasp, trying desperately to memorize them.

You’re so engaged in your reading that you don’t notice the man in front of you until you’re walking into him.

“Oh!” You stumble back, the book falling from your grasp as you lose your footing. The man is quick and grabs you around the waist to prevent you from falling.

“I am very sorry, Your Majesty. You must forgive me, for I was not paying attention to where I was walking.” The man has a deep, booming voice, his accent different than the ones you’re used to.

“It’s quite alright. I was hardly paying attention myself.” You look up at him and your eyebrows raise.

He’s an absolute Adonis of a man.

With beautifully kind blue eyes, a warm and inviting smile, and long locks of blond hair that are pulled back into a half-bun.

“It must be an interesting story that you were reading then?” He questions, hand dropping from around your waist as he stoops down to pick up your book.

“You could say that.” You’re nervous. You know not who this man is nor where his allegiance lies.

“This is a book of maps. Have you a journey planned?” He seems just genuinely curious but you’re defensive nonetheless.

“Might I ask who you are and why you need to know?” He raises his brows then chuckles.

“I suppose we have not been introduced, although I have heard many things about you. I am King Thor, of Asgard. And you are Queen (Y/n). Born of Orlen but wed in Acadia. The Kings eagerly awaited your arrival, I must say. And you are every bit as beautiful as they said.”

You shake your head bashfully.

“May I know where your journey will take you? It will remain a secret between the two of us. You have my word.” You ponder this for a moment, but he looks so kind and so genuine, you can’t stop yourself from telling him.

“Well if you must know, I’m leaving.” He huffs a breath of surprise.

“Leaving? But for what purpose? You are a queen.”

You laugh softly at that, the tugging up of your cheeks making your cuts burn.

“A queen, yet I am treated like a prisoner. You must forgive me for speaking so plainly in your presence, but I fear that I have lost any sense of... propriety in this place. My husbands may have spoken highly of me, but that was before they met me, I suppose. Now... I am nothing more than a thorn in their sides.”

Thor shakes his head, not believing a word coming from your mouth.

“That cannot be.” You sigh heavily and tug the collar of your gown down, showing him the dark bruises around your neck.

“From his Majesty, King James. And King Steven gave me these.” You show him the bruises on your arms next.

He’s absolutely appalled.

“And I assume they are the ones responsible for these?” One of his warm fingers traces across the marks on your cheeks and you nod.

“I do not blame you for wanting to leave. You must feel stifled.” You nod, taking his outstretched arm and allowing him to lead you down the hallway.

“It... has not been an easy transition. I have not even seen my kingdom yet. I know not what it has to offer nor if it is thriving. I have not met my people or even seen my lands. This place is supposed to be home to me, but it is no more than a prison with hot water and soft sheets.”

Thor’s quiet for a long moment and you regret every speaking. Just as you’re about to tug free from his grip and lock yourself back in your chambers, he turns to you.

“We cannot simply allow you to not know what your kingdom has to offer! I am making it my duty to show you the beauties of Acadia.” Your eyebrows raise.

“But surely you’re here on business? You mustn’t have time for something as tedious as that.” He takes your hand and brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles. “A chance to get to know the Queen? Show her that her Kingdom is not all bad? That is not tedious. The Kings can wait. They have Anthony. I will take you through the Kingdom and show you all that there is to see.”

~*~

Thor is true to his word and shows you every nook and cranny in the Kingdom. From the poorest parts to the wealthiest.

“This is the village orphanage. I often come to volunteer my time, however business has kept me away for far longer than I’d like to admit.” You pull your cloak tighter around yourself at the biting chill of the wind, a frown on your face as you look at the run-down building.

“Do the kings not know the ruins of their Kingdom? Surely something can be done to fix this building. The children must be freezing.” You’re reminded of your own experience in the cold confines of the north tower in Orlen. The small chamber you were locked in whenever your adoptive mother did not want to see you.

“The Kings often busy themselves with their work. They are conquerors. They have not the time for such trivial tasks. It would be the duty of a queen to fix the Kingdom, here at least. They are my friends, and they are good at taking, however it seems they know little of giving back.” You nod at this, knowing firsthand how much they can take and not give back.

“I wish I had known that the kingdom was in such ruins. I would have made it my priority.” He looks at you for a long moment, wondering what on Earth could cause the Kings to treat you so poorly.

“If you would like, I can help you to arrange some repairs? Perhaps we can make it your project? Have you in charge of it. It could be your first official duty as Queen.” You smile but shake your head sadly, turning away from the orphanage and back towards your horses.

“I doubt the Kings would approve of something like that. I’m sure I will have their wrath to face for having kept you from your business for so long. I fear what they will do to me, if I am quite honest with you. Steven was lovely before but... he has... I know not how to explain it.” Thor comes up behind you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I will ensure that they do not bring any more harm to you, Petal. You have endured far more than should be expected of you. You have little to gain, and yet you remain here for them.” You shrug, walking with him to your horses.

“My situation were I to leave would not be very different. I have nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I am alone both in the Kingdom and outside of it.” Thor hates the truth behind your words.

“Come, let’s get you back to the Palace before you catch your death.” He helps you up onto the horse then gets on his, mind full of everything you’ve told him and all that he needs to discuss with the Kings.

~*~

He walks you to your chambers, having told Wanda to draw a warm bath for you. As he reaches the wooden door, he pauses and smiles warmly at you.

“I very much enjoyed our time today, Your Majesty. I hope to spend more time with you during my stay. But unfortunately, I must go.”

As he’s turning to leave, a voice calls your name. The way you stiffen has Thor grinding his teeth together in frustration.

“Your Majesty,” you greet, bowing your head to your husband while your hand inches to your door.

“May I speak with you? Please?” You open your mouth to reply but Thor cuts you off.

“Actually, Steven, I believe you and I have matters of our own.” And just like that, The booming blond ushers your husband down the hallway. Steve’s blue eyes stay on you, his head turned to look over his shoulder as much as he can until they round the corner and render you out of sight.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and enter your bedroom, smiling tightly at Wanda as she helps you into your bath.

~*~

“You were with (Y/n) all day?” Thor shrugs, “would it matter if I was? It seems that I am the only friend she has.” Steve grinds his teeth together but huffs a breath out through his nose.

“I understand that I have been unfair, but all I want is to make things better between the two of us.”

Thor shakes his head, thick arms crossed over his broad chest as he looks between the two kings. “That can wait. What is it that you needed to discuss with me so urgently?”

Steve sighs and looks over at James as if trying to figure out where to begin.

“We believe that someone is trying to sabotage our marriage to break us apart and overthrow our rule. And it must be someone close to us. James has been... tampered with. And I was made to question the loyalties of my own wife. My anger and haste for answers have... brought forth a beast I had hoped to keep hidden from her. And I fear I have played my part in the sabotage of my marriage.” Thor thinks about how helpless you sounded, how absolutely broken down you seemed and can’t help but agree with Steve’s words.

“If someone is plotting to overthrow your rule, they must be close. Close enough to know of any decisions being made. It would be wise to deceive them.” James furrows his brows in confusion. “Make it seem as if they are winning. Send away your wife and tell no one the truth.”

Steve’s shocked at the suggestion.

“Send her away? To where? And with whom? We cannot very well abandon her when people mean to kill her!” Thor purses his lips for a moment before smiling.

“She won’t be alone.”

The other two Kings stare at him as if he’s grown a second head.

“You mean to stay with her? And protect her?”

“Your wife is a spitfire, that much I can tell. She may come across as a woman of few words, but she has a raging soul that cannot be so easily tamed. She wishes to leave you, plans to.”

James’ shoulders cave and Steve’s face crumbles.

“She told you this?” The brunet asks, voice hoarse and weak.

“Not in so many words, but the desire is there. She is unhappy. If she would agree, I would take her to Asgard to be a wife of my own, however, her heart is loyal to Acadia.” The two kings each glare at the big blond man, angry at the very thought of someone taking their wife from them.

Thor continues, unbothered by their anger.

“Which is why she should be sent away. I have a cottage at the border of Asgard and Acadia. My men will be around and you can send men of your own. I will stay with her until she is comfortable and then I will take my leave, but for her safety and her sanity, she must leave the Palace.”

The silence in the room hangs heavily over all three men for a long while before Steve nods.

“Very well. If it is truly in her best interests, then fine. But I will not shun her without giving her a proper explanation.” Thor bows his head as Steve rushes past him, heading towards your chambers.

He knocks once then slowly pushes the door open, desperate to see you and grovel at your feet.

You’re seated on your bed, a book in hand and a shocked expression on your face.

“Your Majesty,” you greet softly, bowing your head.

“No, (Y/n) none of that. I was... out of line. I will never be able to apologize enough for everything I have done to you.” You say nothing but your heart hurts at the fact that Thor clearly told him something.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Your Majesty,” you say stiffly, moving your gaze back down to the book in your lap.

He sits on the edge of your bed, his eyes on the scratches decorating your delicate face.

“We have been unkind and unfair to you, my darling. I hope that one day you will forgive us, but until then, there is something we must discuss.” You have no idea where this conversation could be going, and that thought alone scares you.

“You will be leaving tonight.”

Your face must display the confusion and fear you feel at his words because he’s quick to clarify.

“Joining Thor and staying in a cottage where our kingdoms border. There are people here, people close to myself and James that wish to do you harm.” He takes your hand gently between both of his and presses a soft kiss to your fingers.

“It pains me to do it, but I know you need it as well. You’ve been deprived here. No friends and no family. We’ve treated you terribly and not as Queen should be treated." You keep your eyes cast down towards your lap, unable to bear seeing the King so distraught in front of you.

He sniffles and places another kiss to the back of your hand.

“I hope that you will return soon, but if you must take time then I understand. When you do decide you are ready to return, we will both be waiting with open arms.” He pauses for another moment before speaking again, his voice softer than before.

“I had hoped that James would join me but he... he is not well. But he misses you dearly, of that I am certain. The days will darken with your departure.” He presses another kiss to your knuckles then slowly rises to his feet.

“No one is to know the true reason for your departure. You mustn't tell anyone, for I fear you will not be safe if you do. Can you promise me that?” He asks, his eyes full of desperation and sorrow.

“Yes, your majesty.” His heart cracks at the fact that you’re still not addressing him by his name, but he realizes it will take time for the bond to be rebuilt between the two of you.

“Wanda will pack your things then you will be met by Thor and he will take you somewhere safe.” He cups your cheek gently, sniffling and trying to fight tears.

“I am so very sorry that your own home is a place that causes you pain.” With that, he turns on his heel and exits your chambers without so much as another glance, the pain he’s feeling evident in the tightness of his shoulders and the stiffness of his walk.

It’s not five minutes later when Thor is at the door to your chambers, sliding a thick wool cloak over your shoulders and pulling the hood up to cover your face.

“Just a precaution, Your Majesty. And the wind has a bit of a bite to it. But a carriage is waiting.” You nod your understanding and follow him silently out of the palace that has been no more than a prison to you.

Steve and James watch from separate windows as you climb into the carriage, not sparing a single glance back at the palace. But they cannot find it in themselves to blame you. What you have been forced to endure is far worse than anyone should have to. Especially someone as delicate as yourself.

A dark cloud falls over the kingdom as their queen is whisked away, brought to a safe haven that their kings couldn’t provide, by a man who is not even a member of their kingdom.

~*~

The journey to Thor’s cottage is a fairly quiet one, far too many thoughts racing in your mind and feelings in your heart.

“You are unhappy to be leaving the Palace?” Thor asks, confusion evident in his voice. You sigh heavily and shake your head, turning to look at him.

“It is a relief to be able to speak freely, however, I cannot help the guilt that I feel. It is my duty to do what the require of me, regardless of whether or not I enjoy it.” Thor shakes his head, a frown on his handsome face.

“No human should ever have to endure that. Regardless of their duties. You will not be shunned by the kings and even if you were, I’m sure Orlen would accept you back with open arms.”

You chuckle once, the sound dull and lacking humour.

“Orlen could not care any less about me if they tried. I’m not a princess to them. Merely the bastard of a King. One who was convenient to use in a trade agreement. My father would have me beheaded if he knew I was running from the kings.”

Thor is rendered speechless by this new information, his heart heavy for you, the delicate princess who deserves a far better fate than the one gifted to her.

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