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katyahina · 3 months

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Burial Blade and Blade of Mercy are made out of meteorite, but WHY? Inspiration and context behind them (+ the source of snake infestation)

This one is a reply on ask from @bobbyzombiegg that I decided to put here because I really keep forgetting to use THIS blog for lore and not my personal/shitposts one...

I know, and this is such a good observation! I am glad that you've noticed what else connects Burial Blade and Blade of Mercy! Even better - whereas Burial Blade severs the ties of a person with the Dream, Blade of Mercy, in a way, helps to create it!

The interesting thing about these blades is that, of course, they must have been created before the conception of the Hunter's Dream! It makes it oddly coincidental that both weapons are useful for the cycle of Dream and Hunt, doesn't it? Blade of Mercy is at least believed to contribute to this as of now; the more we hunt the more messengers get added in the Hunter's Dream, so, perhaps, Blade of Mercy is not necessary! My personal interpretation of this is as Paleblood Hunter, our character has the privilege otherwise special for these weapons! Regardless of which weapon they use, they can send those they killed to be messengers (or add them in the cycle of the hunt, like how Henryk or Yamamura will become summonable after we kill them)!

Still, it starts to look like too much was planned ahead? Blade of Mercy said to be made in an old workshop would imply Old Hunters, likely created by Gehrman himself, from the same material as his own weapon! But I think the answer here is that Messengers, something akin to Hunter's Dream and similar weapons existed since Pthumerian times!

Starting with the weapons observation here! Pthumerian Descendant, interestingly, displays the similar style of transforming their blade into two same as how Blade of Mercy does it! Meanwhile, Gehrman's blade is fashioned similarly to Mergo's Wet Nurse's blades! In isolation, I would not think this means anything.. but crows, according to Hunters of Hunters lore, ARE connected with taking the souls and passing them into Dream realm, which is also Nightmare realm!

(Link to my other post explaining why Vilebloods descend from Pthumerians ( x ) in case someone who doesn't know already finds this post)

Wet Nurse herself is very bird-like (crow-like, specifically), and very coincidentally, Baneful Chanters pray to those who "have no blood" as those who'd have enough power to curse the hunters (which is to ensure they go in the Nightmare realm). Wet Nurse not only coincidentally fuels at least one section of Nightmare by nurturing Mergo, the center of it, but also, Nightmare realm has Winter Lanterns whose heads are made of Messengers!

So we have: Wet Nurse already being quite Pthumerian with her accessories and fighting style, Pthumerians and their descendants (down to Cainhurst!) honoring symbolism of crows, Yharnam (a city named after Queen Yharnam, after all) having depiction of BIRD-like Messenger in its oldest part, superstition about crows taking souls of the murdered in Hunter's Dream, people praying to "bloodless ones" to take the souls into Nightmare instead + evidence of it happening with Winter Lanterns.. In my opinion it is fair to assume that the weapons Gehrman created had a pre-existing inspiration and their similarity to pre-existing Pthumerian weapons is not coincidental!

Alright, first - I want a Bloodborne prequel where I could make a Pthumerian Paleblood Hunter. Second, as you can see, concept of the Messengers, the "Hunter" symbol/rune (depiction of the hanged man of course), and even the MOONLIGHT Sword were a thing since Pthumerian times! (It is safe to assume Ludwig found this sword somewhere in the Dungeons, as obtaining Radiant Sword Hunter badge is what lets you buy Tomb Prospector set!)

^ The note already mentioning Laurence associating with Moon Presence, THE Great One of the Hunt and the Dream, is found in Byrgenwerth already! Basically? Without maybe predicting that he would be trapped in the Hunter's Dream one day, Gehrman already knew what he was doing with the weapons.

Conclusion: there was the clear idea in mind! Blade of Mercy, intended to kill people from the start, immortalises the hunters as the HUNTERS and brings them in "Heaven" of Moon Presence, before they turned into beasts, whereas Burial Blade, initially intended for hunting everyone that was no longer human (for example, poor Fish People), ensures they, on the contrary, never go to "Heaven". What later serves to sever a Hunter from the Hunter's Dream initially intended to sever non-humans from it, in a way sentensing them to "Hell". :) Gehrman is a fun person.

+ Also some bonus observations regarding the topic of Yharnamites still continuing Pthumerian traditions, likely brought back because of Byrgenwerth, and then Healing Church, diving into dungeons:

(Context for those that didn't play Bloodborne because Sony hates you and you in particular: both this trap in the dungeons and this bath in Yahar'gul warp you in another area, connected by the circle of candles)

Forbidden Woods, surrounding Byrgenwerth, are full of formations that resemble the Tonsil Stone very much! However, when you examine the woods, you will see that sometimes there are body parts near these "heads"! This could be another case of petrification upon strong arcane impact, similarly to petrified body of Rom near Ebrietas, to petrified bodies of other Kin in Upper Cathedrals covered by fabric, bodies of victims in Yahar'gul, all that!

Were they people living in the woods that started to turn into Kin (like Garden of Eyes that are also found in Byrgenwerth) but didn't live until petrification, or were they baby Great Ones born only to instantly die? I am not sure. Both can work.

But, snakes are an interesting clue here. Besides Forbidden Woods, they are only also found in Hintertombs - a dumping ground for corpses of Pthumeru Ihyll that became venomous! Forgotten Madman, who is a former Choir member as he uses A Call Beyond, is found in these dungeons + getting Cosmic Watcher Badge is what lets you buy Poisonous Knife. Doesn't it look strange for Choir members to pick so much interest in this? Snake infestation might be a strange result of burying cosmic Kin in the ground, a corruption of what would normally be a process of multiple parasites/phantasms settling in a corpse of a cosmic being, OR someone affiliated with one! We do have precedents:

Cosmic creatures, "downgraded" and "filthied", becoming something eartly instead, such as snakes! One of them was able to raise human children (Madaras twins), so sure they are unusual!

So, what I am trying to say is, it is possible that Tonsil Stone is a result of burial of a dead (and rapidly petrifying) cosmic Kin, one that was yet not rotted like what we see in Forbidden Woods! Maybe even more directly so, it is a petrified skull of a cosmic Kin, most likely of Amygdala's kind, and a "meteorite" in the sense of them coming from space! So, creating weapons both of which are connected with burial ritual from the buried Kin is appropriate! This or similar technology maybe also was discovered by Pthumerians long ago, so examining Hintertombs was a great help with figuring what material to use for Burial Blade and Blade of Mercy!

^ These disturbing dead cosmic Kin fetuses are found in Byrgenwerth in two forms: one depicts a petrified corpse, something we already knows happens with Kin, such as Rom and eldrich creatures in Upper Cathedral. Another is dead, rotting, showing horns, and has multiple tiny skulls on its head! The latter one gets my point about corpses of Kin, or maybe anyone touched by Kin, sprouting smaller life forms from within. People infected by snake virus sprout several snakes from their heads, rather than turning into a snake or something!

It is entirely possible that Byrgenwerth used to bury creatures like this in the grounds around the college, and that those gigantic graves in Forbidden Woods were for much larger Great Ones: "Hunt the Great Ones. Hunt the Great Ones." note is found in Byrgenwerth as well! They might have been able to resist the full rotting that results into snakes due to their size and development, hence their graves still show sluggish phantasms. Burying other ones, on the other hand, was a big mistake. Or, should I say.... a GRAVE mista- *gets sniped*

_________________________________

These are my thoughts on the topic! You kinda got two theories at the price of one here, but snake infestation was somewhat relevant in the context of burial and my idea of what IS this "meteorite"! Thank you so much for prompting me to tie this theory together at last!!

#bloodborne #bloodborne theory #gehrman the first hunter #pthumerians #long post #not art #text post #bloodborne reference #screenshots #damn two years later I've found a proper answer on snake infestation situation...#too bad that an ex mutual will never see it now they sent me an ask about it and back then my answer was unsatisfying #why I figure this obvious shit so late..... sigh

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gabessquishytum · 7 months

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Dream desperately wants to begin a relationship with Hob, but recognizes that what often killed his past relationships is that he went too fast and too hard, and doesn’t want to make the same mistake here. He also recognizes that he is maybe just a tad traumatized from Burgess and the fishbowl, and that he could freak himself out with the physical aspect if he’s not careful (talking with Lucienne and Hob and even Matthew has done wonders for his self-awareness)

So he decides to kill two birds with one stone with a kind of exposure therapy, getting himself used to human touch in small doses and making sure he goes slow enough to not scare Hob off. First light brushes of the hand, then moving up to handholding, then hugs, kisses on the cheek, then full kisses and cuddles. He’s quite impressed with his own progress, he’s come pretty far in only a month or two if he does say so himself.

Of course, the master of communication over here completely forgot about step one and never even told Hob what he was doing or that they were in fact starting a relationship, so from Hob’s perspective the touching (and subsequent kissing) is coming out of nowhere.

He’s managed to deduce the “Dream is reintroducing himself to physical touch after trauma” part, but has convinced himself that it’s all platonic on Dream’s part, that Dream needed a friend he could trust not to take advantage during this process (even if that friend is secretly head over heels in love and the process is severely testing him). He hasn’t said anything about it and doesn’t plan to out of fear that if he draws attention to it he’ll spook Dream and cause him to backslide, so he’ll do his damndest to endure and not let his feelings fuck this up.

So at a certain point we have Dream sliding into Hob’s lap, giving him a long and deep kiss, with wildly different understandings of what’s happening

Hob (internally): keep it together, don’t read too much into this, he must not understand the human romantic connotations, boner for the love of god get out of here, he needs a friend right now remember that—

Dream (internally): this is awesome. I still have a boyfriend I haven’t scared off yet and now I can make out with him without any issues. I’m a genius. I think on our next date I’ll be ready to take our shirts off.

(Gotta love idiots-to-lovers, they probably won’t talk and clear things up until Dream decides to reach for Hob’s dick)

-🪽anon

I love it. They're so fucking stupid.

Hob is DEFINITELY nervous about initiating conversations about feelings, seeing as how it all went down last time. He's promised himself that they friendship is going to work on Dream’s terms, and he's going to follow Dream’s lead without exception. He is deeply confused by Dream’s sudden desire to touch, to hold hands, to kiss... but he's not adverse to any of it. He mirrors everything that Dream wants, never pushes the boundaries, never tries to ask questions.

And none of this is inherently a problem. But. Dream is out here thinking that he's getting a good grade in boyfriend. And it's fine! Hob would be quite happy to go on with this forever. He loves holding Dream on his lap, holding hands with him, going on their cute little "dates" together. He wants Dream to continuing expressing himself and he's happy to follow along one step behind.

And then. Dream does touch his dick.

Hob immediately requests time out. He quickly explains that he's not saying no, he's just... he needs a minute. Dream’s mind is spiralling a bit (this is the first bump in the road in his journey of dating Hob), but he tries to keep calm. He lets Hob breathe.

Hob rests his forehead on Dream’s shoulder and tries to get a handle on himself. He can feel Dream’s pulse fluttering under his skin. He reaches out and squeezes Dream’s hands and its in that moment that everything begins to make some kind of sense.

He looks up at Dream and smiles and he's like... "we're boyfriends, aren't we?" And Dream nods cautiously, and Hob laughs. He's obviously not laughing at Dream so Dream laughs too. Hob kisses him and its like their first time all over again.

They don't end up doing anything below clothes that night. Hob explains, gently and carefully, that he's only just realised that they're a couple so Dream says they should at least go to dinner first. Fortunately Dream is able to see the funny side, because he realises that either way, Hob really does love him. And always has.

And when they eventually do fuck, it's the best exposure therapy that Dream could ever have wished for. He feels so totally and completely safe covered by Hob’s warm body. It's not like being naked at all. It's just love and pleasure. He promises himself in that moment that he's going to start talking to Hob properly. Communicating about their relationship isn't going to break anything, in fact it can only make them stronger.

The more he talks to Hob, the more he realises that at last, he actually really IS being a good boyfriend. And he finally feels just a tiny bit proud of himself.

#🪽anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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the-eeveekins · 5 months

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The 15th Day of G-Witch: What They Wish For

So this is something I didn't catch until this rewatch! Prospera states that she sympathized with Delling's plan and decided to assist him by sending Suletta & Aerial to the school to participate in the school's duels, so that definitely confirms she was working with Delling before the 1st episode. Which means the whole inquiry in episode 2 was definitely a sham, and Delling almost certainly knew about the assassination attempt on his life. It really makes me wonder what the plan was if Miorine hadn't jumped in to save Suletta at both the inquiry and the incubation party, as I seriously doubt either instance was a part of their script for dealing with getting around the Cathedra Agreement.

This uhhh...doesn't help explain why, if Suletta marrying Miorine was an important part of the plan, Prospera never told Suletta girls could marry girls.

I do think Prospera is being genuine here. She needed to send Aerial to Asticassia to participate in duels in order to raise it's Permet Score and she also wanted to fulfill her daughter's dream of attending school. Since the duels are pretty heavily regulated, she likely felt comfortable that she could kill two birds with one stone and keep Suletta out of any potential life threatening situations that might arise from her schemes. I just genuinely think that, if at all possible, Prospera (and Eri) wanted to keep Suletta out of any serious danger and she's upset that her life was seriously endangered at Plant Quetta.

Elan was serving cunt with this pose.

Sophie's desires aren't grand or extravagant. They're things I feel every kid should have growing up. It really speaks to just how bad things are on Earth, and how bad Spacian oppression really is, that she was radicalized and willing to pilot a weapon that would slowly kill her just for the chance at a normal childhood.

I love the way Suletta has a sudden realization over the disconnect between her personal beliefs and her actions at Plant Quetta. Sophie's words cut deep, and Suletta is forced to confront the idea, for perhaps the first time in her life, that her mother's intentions and motivations might not be what they seem.

It is incredibly rare to see Suletta angry, but Sophie threatening to kill Miorine and the things she holds dear clearly pushes Suletta over the edge here, triggering Aerial to reach score six and start overriding the Gundvolvas. Impressively, in order to counteract the override, Sophie seems to subconsciously push the Lfrith Ur into Permet score six herself, the negative effects of which are immediately apparent.

This scene still gives me chills. I was not prepared for the revelation of Ericht to happen so early in the season, and it was the moment I started to feel that the series would end this season. I'll never forget the moment the Aerial transitions to Eri within the Data Storm, and Suletta has to beg her sister to not kill Sophie. Unfortunately, we see just how deadly score six is for a normal person, as Sophie dies from the data storm in what appears to be a matter of seconds.

Suletta barely succeeds in gaslighting herself into believing everything is going to be okay and if she just follows her mom and her mom's motto, things will work out for the best. But the cracks are starting to show.

#25 days of g witch #g witch #the witch from mercury #gundam #g witch spoilers

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fantomette22 · 1 year

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HELLO THERE

So, we’ve had a lot of discussions about this (you know mine by now skwhwwhwh) but what do you think Gehrman did pre-Byrgenwerth/hunting? His family, class status, occupation etcetera, things like that.

Alright is it TIME!!!

Thank you so much, I can finally share my « headcanons »/story about Gehrman’s backstory! Yes I have those ideas since September too…

I won’t talk about everything in details + there’s things I’m not settle with but it’s still going to be long and a bit messy sorry. It could have some dark theme too just so you know. I hope you will enjoy! Oh, and this is mostly in the interpretation of my current fic verse

His family first:

He’s from a middle/working Class, I think. It’s not the big bourgeoisie for sure but they were not super poor either (I will talk about it just after but for going around buying books and a few fancy toys you need a bit of money XD)

His family lived at Hemwick then Yharnam. I have this idea that his family might have help Cainhurst and the nobles with their hunt parties for a while. (There’s were a lil accident here too at some point…)

Besides that they might have worked in the fields. that's where he got his affinity with scythes !

So, there’s his father, and his little sister principally + there’s his mom and grandma who taught him to sew, cook and everything but I feel those two weren’t around for long :(

Oh, and there’s his aunt (a badass) who taught him to use weapons too and I like the idea she could be THE Evelyn you know. (but forget it)

And of course, they had some dogs while in Hemwick I think :)

I wouldn’t say he was a “weird” kid, but he was a bit different than the children his age. He didn’t pass that much with others his age either. He passed more time with people younger or older. Or generally he passed lot of times alone.

But I like the idea he could have been friend with Dores as a child. Dores who was really super weird and scared others and Gehrman just didn’t mind XD Also his family was a bit worried for a time because he thought that mercy killed a wounded bird was the best idea… well instead his family forced him to take care of the bird until he either die or get better. The bird lived and was release afterwards.

It might be linked to an another huge moment in his childhood/pre-teens : a wolf had attack cattle and possibly humans as well. Many people have been called to try to catch the beast. Gehrman tried to find it as well. Oh well he found it. It was hurt and sick and trapped in a jaw trap. He knew people were going to really make surfer the wolf who was already dying so he mercy killed it. During this adventure our lil hunter might have gone trapped too and hurt his leg as well. But nothing too serious lol (he hurt his right foot/leg way too many times when he was younger...)

(i made this back in September too...)

His education was not the highest thing possible either but still, he learned to read (and really like it) and wrote etc. and he loved going to expositions in Yharnam organized by Byrgenwerth. One day he even found a meteorite in a field and went to Byrgenwerth so that the scholars could explain and share to him everything they know! (yes! he made the burial blade and hunter badge years later from it!) yes a lil stone collector, like me <3 Oh and I headcanon he could play Cello (violoncelle) but I don't know where/when he learned.

He loved making toys and sew clothes too. He made a few dresses for his sister and a few little clothes for her plushies when she was younger. Of course, they had little dolls has well he and liked to make them various outfits. He also had/made a few wooden figures and some with mechanisms. I feel it would have been his dream job to make toys or even become a tailor. I headcanons he continued to make little articulated toys and sew clothes (he made his own) in addition to the weapons x)

At some points it becomes a bit complicated, I imagined when he was a teenager it was just him his sister and his dad. His father wasn’t super present and super fun it was a bit complicated (to resume)

And then the plague strike. (Yeah, I thought that having a tuberculosis epidemy 15y or smt before everyone met at Byrgenwerth and killed at least 1 member of everyone family was a good idea…I still think it is).

His sister sadly passed away from it T_T this really hurt him intensely if not destroy him. He was quite close to her and that’s a part how he got huge issues with dealing with grief of persons really close to him.

I need a name for her eventually, but I might never cited her by name, I guess so I got times…

After that idk maybe his father died too? or later? idk

Anyway, he went to do many little jobs around Yharnam, not the best things really but well you need a shelter and to eat so he did many various things : manufacturing, butcher, gardening, constructions, take people/object from to place A to B.

That’s where he met Patches who was one of his roommates lmao. Patches probably stoles stuff to everyone. Gehrman was very clear that if he ever witnesses directly the thief, that one was really gonna have a bad time… thankfully it kinda stops XD

By the way teen Gehrman is legit the type of person to gives weapons to people/lil kids so they can defend themselves just in case XD I’m not telling to who he gives a knife for exemple but the only thing I would say was that Cainhurst was really surprised XD

But there were something beginning to bother him. To bother him a lot. His right leg/foot really begin to hurt. To hurt really bad, he began to limp and smt even need to use a cane. At some points he couldn’t take it anymore, he went to Byrgenwerth so he could be properly healed. Well he got some really bad news… the tuberculosis from years ago have stayed dormant in his body for years and was now attacking his bones (it’s what a call tuberculosis of the bone/skeletal tuberculosis yes I’ve made quite some researches on it ). There was nothing to do so he asks them to amputee him. During his convalescence and reeducation, he spends lots of time with Dores & Liam (gatekeeper) (and also a bit with Willem + he met Laurence for the first time) who were sick too and didn’t work at Byrgenwerth yet.

After he was heal he decides to leave to work in a foreign regions/country a few years (Ahah you thought he was gonna stayed at Byrgenwerth ? Not yet!). To the places he went he did many things (mining for ex) and meet many people. I believed the first hunters /prospectors were almost all from Yharnam but the first foreigners might be people he meet there. (it’s the case of the grandfather of my OC hunter and maybe the first hunter of hunters and well it could be fun if he meet Archibald or others don’t you think ? Oh and an idea I have is that he met someone linked with Yamamura who even worked on the Rakuyo much later ! Yeah he got some contacts XD)

So after this he returned to Yharnam and wanted to finally realized one of his dreams: takes a few class a Byrgenwerth. While he was working next to it, that wasn't easy too but with all his efforts Willem noticed him (+saw his huge potential) and after discussion proposed to him if he wanted to work at Byrgenwerth. Gehrman accepted and that’s how he become Groundskeeper. The rest is another story. One you might be familiar with 😉

(I've got nothing really new so here's some old drawings)

#bloodborne #bloodborne headcanons #gehrman the first hunter #yharnam's communion #sorry I might have forgot a few things it's late and there's too many things to talk about x) I could talk about it for hours #gehrman headcanons

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captainshyguy · 2 years

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Lost and Found Writing/Music Masterpost

part 2 of the masterpost! you can find part one, with all the visual art here!

Story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31398755/chapters/77651207 STORY/CHARACTER PROFILES

I’m in a writing server, and there’s a profile bot that you can set up to essentially give a summary of your story/characters on command. It has a word limit, so it’s good for practicing snappy summaries. Anywhere, here’s the ones I made for the story as a whole, and then all the main/secondary characters! This is good if you want to see how i describe the characters and how they stand out in my head!

HERE it is!

MUSC

Now I haven’t made my own music for the story, but like a lot of people who build stories, I have a bunch of songs I associate with it. I’ll link the playlists I have here, but also a short description for why each song is where it is.

Main theme: Blue Healer by Birdtalker is a song I only heard after finishing the story, and yet I feel like it still sings through each chapter. It’s a song about how you have to let yourself feel sadness (the titular blue healer) and sit in it for some time instead of trying to stuff it down. How you can’t heal without learning how to accept what’s hurt you. It’s gentle and slow and it’s fits both in vies and themes. it pops up in the playlists too

Secondary theme: The Call by Regina Spektor is what I considered the theme for a while. It’s very gentle, and the lyrics fit very well. Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light, and you’ll come back when it’s over, especially.

LEAF’S PLAYLIST (link)

Leaf’s playlist is largely theirs, but also the unofficial playlist for the story, them being the main character and following their story beats.

QUIRREL’S PLAYLIST (link)

His playlist for the story! A little shorter, but still a bunch there.

LEAF AND QUIRREL’S JOINT PLAYLIST (link)

A lot of these are mainly just songs I can see them dancing to, but hey.

Ghost Theme: Who I am by The Score fits my Ghost very well. It has a strong, unshakeable confidence, just like Ghost has in themself. They know who they are.

Hollow Theme: Tightrope by The Score, is a lot more unsure, like Hollow themselves. Balancing on a tightrope of expectations put upon them by the kingdom.

Hornet Theme: White Face, Black Eyes by AJJ. This is on Leaf’s playlist too but I think it fits Hornet’s arc and the lessons she learns. I’m struggling to find one for her overall, but hey, one day. It has a serious, graveness to it that fits her.

Myson Theme: Heirloom by Sleeping At Last. I like to imagine this is a song by Grimm to Myson. You remind me of who I could have been. You inherited a fight that you were born to lose.

Songs and the reason they’re on their playlists is explained under the read more! It got a little long, even with just a sentence or two for each.

LEAF’S SONGS

Plant Life- Owl City: Their main, overall theme. Whimsical and light whilst also having heavier lyrics. Heaven knows, I could really use a friend.

Title Theme- Hollow Knight: Self explanatory. It’s the vessel’s theme. Another overall theme.

Sound of the Shire- Lord of the Rings: Last overall theme. Hits that bright, optimistic friendly feeling I want with Leaf whilst also being very melancholy at times.

I Need a Minute- Imagine Dragons: Theme for Leaf in the lab. Upbeat, but with bleak lyrics. He said your eyes are much too bright, the things you say are never right, the sins of all the world lie on your head.

Hey Brother- Avicii: Theme for the batch as a whole and their bond.

All I Know- Five For Fighting: For when the vessels start getting taken and it’s all Leaf can do to hold on to Tall. Mournful and sad.

Bird With a Broken Wing- Owl City: Leaf climbing out of the Abyss. A little too upbeat, but the lyrics are too perfect to resist. It feels like I’m a lone survivor, forgotten in a dark and deadly world.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams- Green Day: This one is more gritty, fitting since Leaf has learn that Miram killed their siblings and now they’re all alone in the wastes outside Hallownest. Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me. Til then I walk alone.

Hopeless Wanderer- Mumford and Sons: A lighter one, and ironically, more hopeful. Leaf taking on the world after Tridant. In the dark, I have no name.

Wandering- Animal Crossing: Peaceful and simple. Leaf falling into the routine on the road, decades passing in their quiet travels.

Uranus: Sleeping At Last: Theme for the chapter they’re alone in the desert, the melancholy catching up. They feel pain but they have forgotten why.

Enter Hallownest- Hollow Knight: The call back to Hallownest. Finding this kingdom and delving down below. In we go.

Greenpath- Hollow Knight: Self explanatory, I put this one on here bc of its significance to Leaf and their fondness for Greenpath. It’s curious and bright.

Door- Minecraft: This has sort of a like...curious sweetness to it that I associate with Leaf, especially as the flashes haven't quite sunk in yet and they’re avoiding them.

City of Tears- Hollow Knight: Also self explanatory. Mournful, and Leaf stats questioning more, even as they stuff it down.

Moon- Sleeping At Last: Theme for Leaf and Quirrel’s talk at the balcony in Crystal Peak. Soft and muted and cosy, under the stars and Quirrel’s arm. Fun fact, this is where Leaf actually fell for Quirrel! It just..took them a while to catch up.

Sleepwalk- Forrest Day: Theme for the Deepnest saga, specifically the chapter where Leaf is hard dissociating and drifting constantly between the past and present. Then it becomes it becomes it becomes a problem....

South- Sleeping At Last: Theme for Leaf dissociating in the Infected Crossroads. Quiet as they’re just...hitting their limit with this. That’s how I lost touch of who I am, and who I was. Some truths get tired, the longer we wait.

Silhouettes- Colony House: Resolving to get to the bottom of this and find what they’re missing! Upbeat and determined. Nothing silhouettes til the lights come on.

Pluto- Sleeping At Last: Getting closer. Accepting that this may hurt them but they need to keep going. Around White Palace. I rebuild when I break down, I wake up more awake than I've ever been before. The heaviness that I hold in my heart's been crushing me

Sorrow- Sleeping At Last: Late White Palace and the aftermath. Less determined and more breathless. Slowly, then all at once, a single loose thread, and it all comes undone

Broken Vessel- Hollow Knight: Well. You all know why this is here.

Ultra Deep Sea- Pokemon Sun and Moon: The immediate aftermath of the Tall fight. Leaf sitting there for days in a painful, grey haze.

When I'm Gone- Shawn James: Theme for Tall and Leaf's goodbye. I’ve made a lyric comic with this! Once I am gone, don't mourn for me, I hope you take pride in what I used to be.

General Taylor- The Longest Johns: Theme for taking Tall to Queen’s Gardens and burying them. Carry him to his burying ground.

Disappear- H.1: Theme for Leaf sitting in the Resting Grounds with their grief.

Midnight- Pixlemon: Theme for the quiet at the beginning of post infection, Quirrel distant, Leaf unsure what to do with their grief.

White Face, Black Eyes- AJJ: Ruminating on that grief a bit, but also talking about it with Quirrel. Tired and exhausted, but a sort of catharsis here. Love what you can til it dies. Then let it lie, let it fly, away.

Vanilla Twilight- Owl City: Similar to above, but just a little lighter, after getting it off their chest. Missing Tall, but not being alone.

Reporting From the Weather Balloon- Little Inferno: I see this as a sort of theme for the group as a whole, though I cant quite pinpoint why. There’s a sort of...coming together with it, a slow rise from the ashes. Also doubles as the theme for the chapter where Leaf shows Hollow the constellations.

This World to You- Eve: Has a similar purpose to Vanilia Twilight, but this one is more....final, almost. Contemplative. Leaf tlking about Tall and their siblings to Quirrel as they paint together.

The Dance- Westlife: Again, similar, but I have a lot of ‘contemplating loss’ songs in here. This one has a sort of acceptance to it. Leaf cherishing what they did have. I could have missed the pain, but I'd have had to miss the dance.

Nine- Sleeping At Last: Theme for Leaf’s dream right after The Abyss. Walking in that blank, flat darkness and finding their reflection. Quiet, contemplative. I’ve been less than half myself for more than half my life. To know and love ourselves and others well is the most difficult and meaningful work we'll ever do.

Greggs Woods- Night in the Woods: Leaf lying in the aftermath of The Abyss, unable to really move, just..thinking things over and their family sit beside them.

Blue Healer- Birdtalker: I put this here too because it’ a good wind down to Leaf’s arc.Talking though their sadness nd grief, sitting with it, etc.

The Last Goodbye- The Hobbit: Leaf and Quirrel winding up to leave and the gang making their goodbyes around Hallownest. The road is now calling.

Time Adventure- Rebecca Sugar: Leaf looking back on Tall and thinking of them. You and I will always be back then, and so, you and I will always be best friends.

Stuff We Did- Michael Giacchino: Song specifically for the memory of Leaf and Tall sitting atop the counter and looking down at the few siblings their have left, the night before Tall is taken. Tall telling Leaf they love them and they need Leaf to remember that.

Drive- Imagine Dragons: Leaving Hallownest. It’s relaxing and muted and the story is over. The characters have each other and it’ll be okay. I’ve got my head on aright, I’ve got my people strapped tight.

Story of Us- Taylor Swift: This is ENTIRELY here because it has a bouncy beat that Leaf would enjoy jamming to and absolutely nothing else, no story significance.

Deer in the Headlights- Owl City: Same as above, its the same bouncy vibe and Leaf would love it.

QUIRREL’S SONGS

Seven- Sleeping At Last: This song just...encapsulates Quirrel. How I feel about him, who I write him. It’s so...free. It’s free its friendly, its whimsical, its breathless, its hungry but so, so gentle all at the same time. It’s Quirrel walking through a meadow with bright shiny eyes, it’s him speeding up just a bit when he sees something interesting, but slowing down with a grin for Leaf because he loves them. This song is Quirrel, it’s the song I’m most sure of across every single playlist. How nice it’d be, if we could try everything. When everything feels heavy, I’ve learned to travel light. But I wanna be here, truly be here, to watch the ones that I love bloom. And I wanna make room, to love them through and through and through and through the slow and barren seasons too. I feel hope, deep in my bones, that tomorrow, will be beautiful. And I’m ready, god I'm ready, oh I'm ready, restless and hungry, I'm ready, for whatever comes next.

Mercury- Sleeping At Last: Quirrel setting out on the road, Monomon’s mask slowly taking his memories away. I'll go anywhere you want, anywhere you want, anywhere you want me.

Hopeless Wanderer- Mumford and Sons: Like it’s place on Leaf’s, its Quirrel being more comfortable on his journies on the road.

Dreams Don’t Turn to Dust- Owl City: This one fits Quirrel’s whimsy bout the road, and also inability to stay i the same place. I’ll miss you with all my heart, but i’d rather be alone.

The Traveller- The Alan Parsons Project: Same as above but leaning even harder into it. The traveller is always leaving home, the only kind of life he’s ever known. There’s always one more mountain left to climb.

Pompeii- Bastille: Theme for....Quirrel’s entire time during return to Hallownest. Pieces falling into place about being connected to Hallownest. And if you close your eyes does it almost feel like you’ve been here before.

Black Holes- Aviators: Immediate aftermath of killing Monomon. On here almost entirely for the gritty, floating vibes and I'm told to kill you though you were my only friend.

Mr Loverman- Ricky Montgomery: Sitting with his head against the glass when Leaf finds him. I’m Mr loverman, and I miss my lover man.

New Invention- IDKHOW: Quirrel’s lowest point. He’s doing VERY badly. Theme for his haze when they’re in the hotspring with Hornet and the others.It’s very harsh in a way his music usually isnt. The girl is like an architect and I am just a new invention.

Critical Mistakes- 888: Still in his lowest point, but when he runs off to Blue Lake. I want a house on a hill by the ocean, I’d let the tide wash away all my critical mistakes.

Ancient History- The Crane Wives: Quirrel sort of like...letting Leaf in and explaining the memory situation. My dreams keep digging up the bones of memories.

The Dance- Westlfe: Similar function to its place on Leaf’s playlist. Quirrel coming to terms with his pain and grief around Monomon. He’s glad he got to love her.

Time Adventure- Rebecca Sugar: Again, fits the same bill. Sort of relaxing into it.

Color- Finish Ticket: His arc wrapping up, Accepting how little he remembers and moving forward. We grow as we learn to let go, pushing through the black and white inside, see in color.

Saturn- Sleeping At Last: Finishing off with a quiet bit of contemplation, a message of peace. How rare and beautiful it is to even exist.

The last two, Hold Each Other, and Sleepwalk are mandatory ‘These fit stag beetles and broken legs Quirrel and I have to put them SOMEWHERE, I love that damn story.’

LEAF AND QUIRREL SONGS

Blue Healer- Birdtalker: What can I say? x] It’s the fic’s theme, it fits the both of them, and it’s a gentle pace for their more slow days. They’d have a nice dance to it.

Honey and the Bee- Owl City: This one I think actually encapsulates their relationship well. It’s sweet and warm and it has bee and honey motifs, like the two of them. If I reached for your hand for the rest of my life, who knew the other side could be so green

Start of Something Good- Daughtry: Nether Leaf or Quirrel really get moments to consider their feelings towards each other before they get together, but i think this optimistic look, a sort of ‘this could be the start of something good’ fits from an objective perspective.

Somebody to You- Banners: This is one of those ones that just...I can see them dancing to, beaming in a village plaza with dancers around them. I'll make the moon shine just for your view, I'll make the starlight circle the room

Heavy- Birdtalker: Functions similar to Blue Healer, in that its a bit more of a low energy one that I can see them dancing to, with fitting lyrics. We're all lonely, together.

Everything- Michael Buble: Sweet, simple, perfect dancing pace. You're every line, you're every word, you're everything

Shut Up and Dance With Me: Higher energy dancing one, also fits that village plaza where lots of people are dancing under warm lanterns vibes.

Sparks Fly- Taylor Swift: Works the same as above, though, winding down just a little bit.

#hollow knight #lost and found #my ocs #leaf

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soft-boi-eli · 3 years

Note

Hello Hello!

I just wanted to say I love your fics!

ALSO!

Could I request a CC!SBI X Gn! Insomniac Reader! Where the reader is an insomniac (Obviously-) but is somehow a pro at MC!

Like they are basically god at the game! They also REALLY enjoy horror games! They don’t get scared easily and LOVE horror movies! They basically love anything horror/creepy-

ANYWAYS!!

The reader lives off of ramen and Monster energy drinks (For fun-)! They have a Twitch (Which has about 18 mil followers and 14 mil subs!) and a YouTube channel (Which has 20 mil followers!)

They mainly play horror games (Obviously-) and MC!

You can do headcanons or scenarios/images with the SBI! Maybe like playing a horror game together or MC? OR! Maybe some things they do together? Or when they meet up? Or-to many ideas Nightmare-

ANYWAYS!

I don’t really care! And don’t worry about taking too long on it!

ALSO!

Maybe we could be friends? Only if you want too!

Remember to eat, drink, and get enough sleep!

Yes. I lovesthese ideas and I'm gonna choose headcannons due to they are a bit easierfor me to write.

And yes I'm perfectly fine with being your friend! I'm actually happy to make friends on this app so yeah!

Pronouns:nonbinary

Tw: cussing. Insomia, mentions of horror movies. Mention of horror games. Fluff.

SBI with a horror streamer friend head cannons.

*Ahem* tommy wanted to paly a game with you so you choose a game that didn't look like horror until the middle. He screamed at the jump scare and it made both of your chats so happy.

When phil decides to play with you there is literally a silence after a jump scare. Everyone thought he had a heart attack and honestly so did you until he spoke up about accidently hitting his mute button when he jumped.

Wilbur. He's a bit better then tommy but more scared then phil would be. Any little noise won't get him but when it starts to get noticeable the noiseless to him. The jump scare, he'd fall out of his seat and stay on the ground for a bit. You ask if he's good and he literally doesn't answer. He's dead. You killed him. Congrats.

Techno. He'd handle them a bit better then everyone else. Not as good as you but heisnt very paranoid. He literally runs at the noises trying to get jumpscared. While you run after him telling him to stop because if he doesn't then you'd lose and die. And technoblade never dies.

If you all play together both tommy and wilbur pussy out. Techno last the longest and phil the second longest. While you remain the ruler of horror games.

Now how you all met was dream invited you to the dream smp to add to the chaos. Needless to say it got extremely chaotic due to you being on almost 24 hours. You first ran into techno. He seemed confused and skeptical.

You both found eachothers love for potatoes. You set up camp quote close to techno but not too close.

Phil popped in when he needed something for a build and noticed a new name. Talked to you in chat and asked to join your VC. You both found each other talking for a bit.

Wilbur was next. Wilbur got curious over the new person and just hoppedinto the same VC as you techno and phil. He was quick to realize that you were a famous youtuber. Mainly for your horror videos and your extreme Parkcore skills.

In minecraft that is.

Tommy noticing that all of you were in the same VC joined in with shouting. He was low key jealous that everyone was obsessed with you. Then he saw why.

You literally cracked jokes at his shouting.

"Is that an angry pomeranian? Nah nah. It's an angry child. Even better an angry blonde!" - you.

He was shocked and immediately started joking and laughing with you. He wasn't fully angry for long.

Now about your diet. When they heard that you had only eaten ramen and drank angry drinks they were concerned. You lived quite close to techno so when you guys met up he was shocked that you looked as healthy as you did.

He hated the fact that you literally didn't eat anything else.

You told him occasionally you have something other then ramen but you were just too lazy to really cook anything and that you didn't feel like burning the house down.

One month phil, tommy, wilbur, and techno decided to organize a month long sleep over so that they could celebrate your birthday. Phil being quote the father figure cooked different, but easy dinners every night just so you didn't eat only ramen that day.

When they actually arrived though you got a text from Phil asking about your address in your dms. Not think much of it you just sent him your location.

You were going to take a small nap. Just to bost your energy before you went and streamed later that night.

As you were sleeping there was a car heading to your house.

Phil, wilbur, tommy, and techno were all just existing in the car. And when they arrived to your house they didn't expect to actually see a clean house.

You woke to a loud knock.

When you opened the door in your half dazed state you expected a package. But to see four people standing on your porch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin.

You were stuck there blinking at them.

Finally snapping out of it you let them in. Confused on why in the ever loving fuck they were here.

Phil explained they were here to celebrate your 21st birthday and they were here for a month.

You stared at them for a while. Confused on what to do since you haven't had people over in almost 2 years.

But you got use to it.

So when you got done streaming and smelled something other then ramen you were thrown off guard. Like what was that. I haven't smelled that in years.

But after the second day you got use to it too.

For your birthday phil literally made a feast.

Like he found your favorite food other then ramen and cooked it. With that he prepared everything you could dream of.

Your sleeping habits. Let's dig into those.

I'm in no place to talk as right now it's 3:05 in the morning. And here I am.

But when they are over they don't let you stay up till no 3-4 in the morning. They all know the importance of sleep.

But there are those nights where no once can sleep and it results in a late night stream. And streaming for hours none the less.

The amount of accidental all nighters everyone has pulled was immense. But that's what happens with jet lag, adhd, and insomnia.

Literally you get tired randomly. Sleep for only 3 hours. Wake up. Drink coffee, energy drinks, highly caffeinated tea. And don't sleep till late at night.

Pillow forts.

It's a must and it happens. Horror movies, pillow forts, and snacks. Like you all are in this massive fort, watching horror movies, one by one you all are falling asleep. You and techno were the last up due to technos active mind and your body not letting you sleep.

You two literally just vide there, changing the movies from horror to some silly animated movies, like how to train your dragon, frozen, Luca, and many others.

You two pull an all nighter and it's actually a bet to see how long anyone else takes to notice.

You bet an hour. Techno says all day.

You won. Philza notices the worse eye bags under both you and technos eyes and immediately starts scolding.

He is papa bird and he won't let anyone of his children neglect their needs.

"Did you even drink water at all? You guys should of been sleeping not binge watching horror movies all night!" -philza

You could only offer a smirk, along with a laugh.

"I think we did I just can't fully remember. Also we were watching animated films. Not horror. Surprised you didn't wake up to let it go." - you.

You turn to techno.

"You owe me 15 bucks pig boy!"-you again.

Handing you the money he rolls his eyes. "Yeha yeah. Rub it in." -techno.

Ah yeah they found a horror game that you were scared of surprisingly. It was actually surprisingly you hadn't played it yet.

Outlast.

You had been holding off that game until you finished your other one but here you were. Bored out of your mind.

So you decided fuck it.

That game teriffed the shit out of you. It was so good though.

When you screamed they all came rushing up due to the fact that you never scream.

They say you out of your chair, on the floor, blinking. They thought you were hurt.

But you sat up and looked at your computer.

"Damn. That was actually really good." When you looked behind you and found the boys all staring you smiled and waved.

"You need something?"-you

"You screamed. We heard a thud. We thought you fuckin died!" -tommy.

"No I'm alive. My soul almost divorced my body but it's still quite here."-you

That day made highlights.

The popular y/n actually got jump scared. The one person who never screamed at horror games screamed.

When they left you were sad yes but they were still your best friends. Ready to talk when ever you want.

Sometimes I think that you guys talk all through out the night. Them forgetting that you were actually in a different time zone.

Sometimes they pop into your streams, be it MC, horror, you just talking to your fans, or even the once in the blue moon, cheerful games.

They just pop in and start talking to you. And you talk back like they were there since the beginning.

Phil is now one of your moderators too. Along with tommy, wilbur, and techno. When they pop in they make sure no one picks on you.

And since you are now close to the SBI. You are now part of it.

You didn't choose the fans did. But they are your new family. No matter what.

Even if they disagree with your eating habit.

Or energy drink addiction.

Or insomnia.

Or you mainly playing horror games.

Or you basically living in your streaming room.

Or even the nearly 24 hour streams.

I could go on but I'm not gonna.

I'm tired. But I can sleep. 2 days and I get to have a tour of my new school.

And it took so long to finally get into it.

We have been going through a huge hassle even before school started to get me enrolled.

And then we had to get me into this program.

But now on Monday I get to go in. Get a tour. Then start either Tuesday or Wednesday.

Anyway hope you liked. It's now 3:50 and it's no proof read I'm sorry

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starlessea · 3 years

Text

Shotgun Wedding (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Drabble: Daryl proposes with a ring he made from a shotgun shell.

A/N This was a drabble commission from someone over at Wattpad. I absolutely fell in love with this idea. Thank you!

The box was small and wooden.

Daryl finally parted with it, handing it over shyly - and you didn’t miss the splinters he had buried in his fingers.

Though, when you took it from him, the box was smooth - as though it had been thoroughly sanded down. You cracked it open, hearing the faint, fresh squeak of the hinges.

It was a ring, but not like any you’d ever seen before.

The band was a goldish colour - simple and solid. There were no sparkling decorations, nor diamonds that made you squint if you looked at them too long. Instead, it was engraved around the edges. The letters had been smoothed down, but they were still preserved well enough for you to figure them out.

It had been a shotgun shell, you realised, and looked up at the man expectantly.

“You made this?” you asked, thumbing over the words.

Daryl nodded, before looking down at his feet.

That man must have the most interesting pair of boots in the world, you thought.

Even proposing to you, he still shuffled about nervously - like he’d already convinced himself that you would say no.

“Had plenty nuts an’ bolts lyin’ ‘round,” he mumbled, “so I tried ‘em first.”

Daryl finally glanced upwards to inspect the ring, narrowing his eyes at it like he was trying to pick a fault in his work.

“But they were too damn clunky,” he explained, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t look right on ya.”

So that’s what he’d been doing back then.

A week ago, you’d stumbled across Daryl on his hands and knees, collecting little rivets and other metal parts that had spilled out onto the floor. It had been quite a spectacle - watching that bulky man squint at the stone tiles.

He’d barked at you to leave the room, but the image was still etched into your mind, like those pressed letters on that ring.

“Then I saw the shotgun shells,” Daryl continued, raising an eyebrow at the grin starting to form on your face.

You took the ring out of the box, feeling the weight of it.

“Rick tol’ me ya wouldn’t like it,” Daryl mumbled, already making his nervous excuses. “I know it ain’t what most girls dream of, but I couldn’t find nothin’ else out on runs.”

Immediately, you shook your head and smiled up at the man - making sure that he didn’t have time to look down again.

“It seems Rick doesn’t know me that well,” you teased, placing a gentle kiss on Daryl's cheek - and feeling the prickle of his unkempt beard as you did. “I love it.”

Then, he helped slip the ring onto your finger - and you couldn’t help but feel guilty at the sight of his calloused hands gently holding onto your unmarred ones.

That man had a bad habit of always putting you first.

Yet, his efforts showed. The band fit perfectly, and caught the light prettily - the letters making it fragment into little speckles that dotted the walls.

You lifted your hand, now decorated with a former shell, and pointed two fingers out - so that they made the shape of a gun.

“Bang!” you laughed, shooting Daryl in the chest.

He sighed, before playing along and pretending to stumble backwards.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, “shot me straight through the heart. I know all yer shitty jokes by now.”

Daryl took a hold of your hand, and pulled you closer to him, so that your chest was flush to his. You rested your palm flat over his heart - still beating strongly despite the bullet wound - and grinned up at him.

“And you love them!” you declared, with certainty.

You could see it in his eyes.

But Daryl just shook his head, lifting your hand up to inspect the ring once more.

“Nah, I love you,” he replied, “so I jus’ put up with ‘em.”

You let your fingers interlock with his, tightly so that he couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to.

But his expression made you think that he’d never want to.

“Until death do us part,” you smiled, and he smiled back.

"'til death do us part."

Feedback is always welcomed; I love hearing what you all think - so feel free to comment, send in an ask, or just message me if you want to chat!

Also, if you enjoy my writing, you might want to buy me a coffee or commission me - tips are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!

A/N Thank you to Sally for my first commission - and for letting me post it on my Tumblr. I had another request for something similar to this a while back, so I killed two birds with one stone here!

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tags!

Tag List:

@xxboesefrauxx @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @teel-dinosaur @speakinglikeconstellations @bunnymother93 @alularae3 @death-becomes-her @royaleclown @alex-sulli @julesmalek @fuseburner @riverscyberwife @browneyes528 @julesclues @diaryofkali @solinarimoon @ssonia13 @phoenixblack89 @srhxpci @jocyc1997 @bvbwestfall @graniairish @bitchynicole @whitexwingedxdoves @potatochic2003 @suranne-doesstuff @witch-of-letters @sweatywildpanda @daryldixonstorm @btsiguess-kpop @reichelhache @thatmemechick @lokiswhqre @marylimlp @jodiereedus22 @shittyoudidntneedtoknow @deadthewalking @pandorahurtsx @mileysnavely @wceasley @caelys @chiliiscereal @2257-blr @i-knowyou @daryloverdixon @sunnyjellybean @potplantbedspread @carysbebe @abbyz28 @abzidabzy @dead-leviathan

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lestwritewhilewaitingforajobcall · 3 years

Text

The Spark That Split the Seas - Poseidon x Reader x Thor

(A/N)

Hey guys I’m back! I’ve been grinding hard for a new character that I’d gotten in this game, Genshin Impact, so I’m sorry for the absence! Anyways, as always, I want to thank you all for the support on my past two stories and on my account, I truly appreciate every one of you! On a story-related note, since I’d mentioned on my previous post that I had a lot of Poseidon x Reader x Thor fics written in my drafts, I decided to post one so you guys could also join me in the feels! Any feedback would be appreciated! This was originally shorter than the final story you’re seeing now, as I’d first only written their dialogues, but as usual, I excitedly itched into making a story out of it!

This is for entertainment only. Record of Ragnarok belongs to Shinya Umemura, Takumi Fukui and Ajichika. I also do not own you, the reader.

The Spark That Split the Seas

Poseidon x Reader x Thor

For more than all the millennia the gods and other species alike had known the lonely kingdom of Atlantis, never once did the crashing waves gave way to the chirping of the largest Albatrosses until now. Otherworldly flying creatures joined with the familiar exclusively earthly ones in enjoying the ebb and flow of the ocean, albeit this time, the hungry ocean appeared more satiated and seemed to follow a regular pattern ‘from sudden crash to a long calm, to crash again then back to another lengthy calm;’ life in the sea rejoiced in this odd occurrence.

Beautiful yellow sun rays poured through the stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope pattern on the large interiors of the kingdom ruled by the god of the seas, and catching the reflection of his nonchalant visage. The long, elegant dining table filled with every kind of seafood delectable imaginable also fell victim to the light, along with a figure that sat down opposite, whose invitation was clear.

Hidden from this heavenly atmosphere were the prying eyes of a little messenger bird who stood unobtrusively behind one of the tall pillars near the far end of the room, halting his slide just in time to witness this miracle:

The living bearer of the most fearsome title, the ruler of both this grandiose palace of the most precious gems and coral and all the oceans and waters, the almighty Poseidon, though against all reason and self-proved authority whatsoever, against the epics of Greek poets, was indulged, seemingly willingly, in the pleasure of having another’s company. In the shadows, Hermes’ red eyes shot wide open in shock.

Poseidon, the ever abrupt and rude god who had deemed most beings to be below him, received a guest, a still breathing one at that.

What in the gods’ name?

In a tone of haughty contempt, a grunt escaped from Poseidon’s lips. Finishing chewing the last bite of delicious food in your mouth, you nodded your head in earnest agreement with his point. Your next words were uttered with the firmness of an old sage who had all the answers, your beliefs shaped by the countless lifetimes you had lived.

“Existing is painful.” Your shoulders bobbed with your chuckle.

Although Poseidon felt a small measure of relief−a feeling that by habit had always been easy to brush-off with a condescending thought, his face betrayed nothing as his stoic features remained still. “If you agree, then why not allow me to kill you this instant?” As if to emphasize his strength, the crashing sound of dreadful combat between waves and rocks rang in the air, and you almost wished that a low rumble of thunder accompanied it, finding beauty in its loud peals, and additionally giving a volume of inspiration to Michelangelo below.

Despite your gaze being unrequited, you were sure you had the god’s attention. Since arriving here, Poseidon noted that your expression had always been smoothed into a calm, smiling one. “If you had intended to kill me, we would not be having this conversation right now.”

Poseidon sat rigid and silent.

“It’s a comfortingly tragic drama, my circle of life. I may not have been lucky to acquire a life as long as that of the gods, but I have definitely lived more times than you have.” Your words were so nonchalant, for a second there Poseidon thought you were kidding.

“That is for the simple fact that you mortals are weak, pathetic.” Lips as pink as young petunias touched the clear edge of the wine glass as Poseidon’s eyes closed, content to give over to listen.

“Yes, we are.” You paused. “But because of this frailty, we learned to adapt, evolve.”

“There is no need for evolution if you are perfect from the moment of conception. Hence why gods such as I, will always be above you.”

“You’re correct. Humans will never become gods after all,” Again, Poseidon found himself absorbing your words like a sponge. At the same time, he experienced an occasional sharp prick at the edge of his emotions, as if signaling him to pull back. “The same as gods will never become like humans.”

“Extremely foolish of you to think that trash is worthy of the shiniest Orichalcum. Your race has been created by us, for us, and will therefore always be inferior.”

“Humans are inferior in all aspects, this, is a fact. It is hence no accident that there is a history of rebellion and consequently, a false notion of superiority. But to be able to look beyond this, is to understand that we never truly intended to surpass animals nor the gods themselves. The nature of our desire: everything was meant for either survival or man’s search for meaning.

“We are by nature flawed and inconsistent creatures. And as you have no doubt seen for yourself as well, despite reaching all our goals, achieving our wildest dreams, we have never reached a position where satisfaction is achieved.” Keenness made your words sound almost heroic. There was a twinkle in your eye and a lilt in your voice, and Poseidon found that now he had a much clearer picture of your reputation for an irrepressible desire to see what is beyond your reach as you questioned: “If I may ask, as I have seen the gods share this sentiment of looking for meaning, do you feel an inkling of the same?”

When Poseidon had put the wine glass down, he hesitated a moment, his supposedly closed mind wavering between doubt and certainty. He would never come to understand this, nor admit to feeling this dissonance, but at last, he shook his head at his consideration, trying to reduce the unpleasantness he felt by the same way he had always used to get out of extremely rare difficulties.

“Do not disrespect me, mortal.” He knew himself that it was an empty threat.

“Those were never my intentions.” You bowed with great respect, but there was at the same time apparent in your manner the consciousness that while Poseidon would never in any way confirm your statement, he did not necessarily refute it. Your heart rose in gratitude as you regarded him with a look of affection, believing in your intellectual companionship.

“Lord Poseidon, as the fearsome god of the seas, what is the meaning of life for you?” The god surveyed your reflection in one of the golden plates, and maybe it was because he had acted in a charitable way towards you, but he saw brightness, a refreshing difference, as if there were no heavy shackles to weigh you down.

“My husband has always been in search of a worthy opponent. What about you?”

It was like a pin came dangerously close to the rational bubble of Poseidon’s beliefs. But then your words penetrated his mind, and he berated himself for almost falling prey, yet…

“Perfection.” Poseidon blurted out loud, full of self-indulgence, but uncomfortable with the thought of pity reeking from his pores, a role that was clearly uncharacteristic of him.

Tilting your head, your brows meshed inquisitively upon hearing this. “This presents the conundrum; you are already perfect, as should all the gods. Since you have explained, gods have always been pristine, perfect, the moment you all were born.

“So, if you have already achieved the meaning and purpose of your life, what is there left to live for?” There was something entrancing in your guileless form, and Poseidon was displeased that another should feel such an interest in your wise, unguarded character. “And if gods have already reached perfection, why is there an endeavor still for the dross of earth?”

For the first time in Poseidon’s life, he was receptive of contraries. Not one single time, had he ever been in the position where he listened, much more considered the act of interpretation. What he said goes, but for some frustrating reason, he was coming to terms of mutual respect; whenever he was sitting opposite you, chin in hand, the more he caught the flame.

Quickly, he stopped that train of thought and he seamed his mouth, stoic. Only his eyes betrayed a spark of defiance. “Stop asking ridiculous questions.”

Again, you bowed. “I apologize if I have overstepped such boundaries.”

“You better be.” With a look of eager inquiry, Poseidon asked, “Why are you not afraid of me? Is it because you are confident Thor would protect you?” One thing that distressed him was that the more he was alone with you, the more he saw your hands, always ungloved, noticed the wedding-ring on your finger. That closed circle excluded him, his face registering the insult. “As expected from a repulsive weakling,”

“No. I know he would be there for me whenever I should need him, and also the times when I don’t.” You said still a smile on your mouth.

Although you were unaware of the eagle eyes that were watching your every move, you had the instinct. You did not need all the information, and you had nothing to hide. Your shoulders were loose, back wasn’t ramrod straight and you exuded a carefree attitude. “The sole reason why my fears have dissipated is because perhaps, I enjoy your conversation.”

To say this whole exchange took Hermes by surprise would be an understatement. After the initial expression of shock, he laughed lowly.

You continued, “I have already accepted your beliefs. No one is entitled to those except yourself.

“If I were to die from imparting what my beliefs are, that is simply fate, a tragedy, but nonetheless, fate. Of course, I would try my best to avoid disappearing from this lifetime, seeing as I have made a promise with my husband, to continue to fight for my life, shall needed, until the very end.” Poseidon’s grip tightened the slightest bit.

“I believe that despite our obvious differences, we are simply two being who each have our own unique experiences that shape our views and beliefs. For hundreds of millennia, I’d seen calamity from all angles; mainly conflicts over a universal truth,

“But so long as there are questions, there will never be one solid concrete truth. And I’m okay with that.” You concluded.

Compliments never rolled off Poseidon’s tongue easily, since in his view they were nothing but hollow words. But this time, he could hardly slip a word in bad taste. He thought it pleasant to hear you, but it could not distract him from the uninvited presence in his throne room.

“You’re a heretic.” His usual strong voice beckoned your attention, discerning the sternness on the table of his expression to be forced. No matter, you had just enough of a last glimpse to see his face looking younger in repose.

“I have been labeled as such.” You noticed the unique rhythm of the crashing waves seemed to have settled along the sand grains, and you admitted it was so beautiful and timeless.

“You’re dismissed.” Poseidon believed in being straightforward with affairs. Since the conversation has ended, the final interchange of words was not likely to be a substantive one. Though this was his original reason, the face at the forefront of his mind right now was not yours but Hermes’.

You stood up and curtsied to show your gratitude. “Very well. It was splendid to be in your company this afternoon.”

Blue eyes followed you as you began walking away, and he watched you until you went out of sight when you began to ascend the Skíðblaðnir, a ship so completely reserved only for you by the Kingdom of the Norse. Then Poseidon’s ears turned toward the messenger’s direction.

Hermes quickly dashed to Poseidon and knelt to greet him with such a great respect akin to the expectations all elderly gods have always expected of their younger ones.

“We gods are perfect beings from the very start; therefore, we do not plot schemes nor engage in disagreements.” The implication registered with a jolt, and Hermes felt his mouth open as the real reason for your invitation became clear. He fought the urge to look at where Adamas had died brutally as a lowlife, not failing to recognize that this was the exact opposite of that faded history.

Finding quiet when Hermes immediately left, the god of the seas stared at his dominion, taking deep breaths of the air, not feeling the normal icy sting carried by the ocean. Over again he dwelt upon in his conversations with you, interested to find out if the Norse god of thunder had been able to sustain a similar type of conversation.

The very first quiver of interest sparked through Poseidon and though he did not recognize it nor perceived it, he understood the most important things, the only ones he ever needed to:

You did not seek validation nor attention. You had no fear of death, neither of the hardships of life.

Your depths of wisdom were unparalleled throughout the realms, which he would comment on its wasted potential, however, he knew Hermes already understood that part of it.

And the god of messenger did, as the word got around slowly but surely:

“There would always be those who dare to brave the ocean’s roar, but there was only one who withstood it.”

#poseidon x reader #thor x reader #snv x reader #snv poseidon #snv thor #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv poseidon x reader #snv thor x reader #record of ragnarok poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok thor x reader #poseidon x reader x thor #snv poseidon x reader x snv thor

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: M for mature. Blood, more blood, heavy language, seriously lots of blood. Literally the bloodiest/most detailed thing I've written. Genre: Super angst with some fluff to ease the pain. We're talking putting honey in your cup of poison to make it taste better. The ending is split, with both a happy and a sad ending. Warnings: Minor surgery (technically?) while the patient is fully awake (that's the reader, btws), blood loss, graphic depiction of a wound and how said wound is taken care of. Possible trigger for self-harm, as the reader is performing part of the surgery themselves. Also brief mention of cannibalism in the bad ending. This may very well be a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat sort of thing. Notes: While I have more medical knowledge than the average person, due to my Girl Scouts training + having a mother as a nurse, I am in no way shape or form a medical professional, and do not suggest that the methods of treatment used in this fic be taken seriously. If you find yourself seriously injured, do not attempt to replicate anything you read here. Only a portion of this is based on a real-ass incident I went through, the rest is based on a dream, and what I experienced was not what you want to do in an emergency.

{Wounded Love}

This was a mistake. Blood stains your leg, your fingers, and bruises start to form all over your exhausted body. And for what? Why had you, a tiny, fragile human, dared to pass through this damned, lycan-infested forest? Because a woman who didn’t even love you asked you to. Now you were going to die, body certain to get left out in the cold or reduced to a pile of gnawed bones. If you had more strength remaining, you might have slammed your hand into the ground in frustration, or screamed until your lungs burned from something other than frost.

But that wouldn’t get you anywhere. Wouldn’t help you get back to the castle, wouldn’t ease the racing of your heart. So you settle for the only thing that might do any good: One quick motion pulls the scarf from your neck, sending a chill down your spine that you promptly ignore. Even with shaky hands and numb fingers, your experience is enough to let you wrap the cloth around your leg, tying the ends in a knot to secure it. The pressure hurts, just not enough for you to prefer bleeding out. A test step reveals that walking is mildly more difficult now.

“I’m going to haunt her,” you muse, under your breath, tears starting to freeze at the corner of your eyes. Still, you are as quietly determined as ever, and so once more you limp down the path. Every time you put weight on your injured leg it protests harder. If not for the snow and ice covering the ground, you might have quickly searched for a walking stick. “What could be so important about this damn package? Couldn’t Doug or whatever-his-fucking-name-is deliver it? Man can practically teleport, and here I am, watching as blood loss and hypothermia race to see who can kill me first.”

Gods were you angry. Why had this happened so soon after you had settled in? Finally you had been comfortable in Castle Dimitrescu, no longer as frightened of the residents, even finding them… charming, in a way. Then the Lady of house called to you for what she claimed to be a simple errand. You had believed her, even when she explained that you would have to leave the relative safety of her home. What a fool you had been.

“What a fool she must be,” you murmur, “to think me safe here. To think I could outlast wolfmen prowling the village outskirts.” Would she even care if she saw you now? Would she be surprised, disappointed? Would she do something to change your fate? There was no reason for her to do so. It didn’t matter how much you had helped her, how much she claimed to appreciate what you did (heavy lifting, repair of clothing, massages). You were as replaceable as any other Maiden there was. And that, that was what made you have a double-take. It came to you in that moment, a thought so painful that you could not deny it was the truth. “She never thought I would survive.”

Bitterness coats your tongue, like blood in your throat, and your brain demands that you destroy your cargo, the very thing that got you sent here in the first place. You almost do it. Feet stopping, arms shrugging the carrying straps off, bloody hands taking hold of it. Tears fall, just two, and hit the package. At that moment your plan changed. This new idea would be far, far more satisfying… as long as you succeeded.

------------------------

Spite was one hell of a drug. Enough of it and you could march your warm corpse right back to the castle, fist banging on the front door with everything you had. The path had been shorter than you thought, thankfully, but it had still taken so much out of you. Now you were leaning against the door, sliding down it, unable to support your own weight. Nothing inside the castle stirred. Were they ignoring you? Was Alcina really going to let you die inches from your “home”? Fuck that, you thought.

“Alcina!” You scream, loud as you can, startling the birds in the distant trees. The word echoes around you and rattles inside your ribs. It’s not enough. “Damn it, I am seconds away from dying, get out here now so I can look you in your fucking eyes!” Something tears a little in your throat, turning the last of your words into a hellish screech, leaving you to gasp and croak in the snow. You go to wipe your tear-filled eyes with your hands, only to remember just how much blood they’re covered in.

Sobs overtake you in just a few moments. You’re blinded by tears, deafened by sorrows, and numb from all the cold. In the aching seconds before you black out, you can only barely make out the silhouette of someone rushing to your side…

------------------------

The first thing you feel when you wake up is mind searing pain. You try to jolt upwards, only to find a pair of strong, gloved hands holding you down. Someone shouts something, but you can’t make it out, and you feel another hand gently squeeze one of your own. Pained gasps escape your throat one after the other, but whatever is hurting you doesn’t stop. It takes a full minute for you to adjust enough to make sense of where you are. At last, you understand what’s being said.

“-it’s okay, shhh, please, we’re trying to help,” says none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. She’s the one holding your hand, doing her best not to hurt you with her grip, trying desperately to calm you down. One the other side of you, Cassandra is positioned to hold you down. There’s a tight-lipped scowl on her face, and her brow is furrowed, but she’s not looking at your face, but rather eying somewhere in the opposite direction. Following her gaze, you find her older sister is sitting near your injured leg, and is undeniably the source of some of your pain. In one hand she holds a bottle of alcohol (notably not the wine her family produces), the other holding a wet cloth to your wound. No wonder it stings so much.

“Shit, shit, stop,” you growl, barely getting the words out. But all anyone does is look at you. Alcina’s mouth opens to speak, only for you to cut her off. “I’ve got medical training, for the love of Mother Miranda let me help! How long have I been unconscious?” This time Bela stops, glancing at her mother for direction. The grip on your torso grows looser, with Cassandra evidently heeding your words, and you take the chance to sit up, careful not to move your leg. At this point you realize that there’s a needle of sorts in your arm, attached to a tube, which trails up into a blood bag. It’s clearly been improvised with equipment from the “wine-making” part of the castle.

“Fifteen minutes at most,” a new voice chimes, from somewhere behind you. “I got that cloth you wanted, mother, but something tells me I’m not done fetching things.” Ah, Daniela Dimitrescu. Was the whole family helping you?... Why? As much as you wanted answers, there wasn’t (currently) time for questions. Not when one glance at your leg tells you that some of your flesh is rapidly decomposing. The wound was made only an hour ago, and already it was getting deadlier than you could even process.

“I need a sharp, clean knife, a needle with thread, a glass of water, and someone needs to put a metal tool, sterilized, on the stove, right now,” you said, finding it easier to talk now that no one was cleansing your wound. Without hesitation Daniela dispersed into a cloud of insects, heading towards the kitchen, while Cassandra stood up and moved towards the stairs.

“Guess I’ll get the needle,” she said, sounding rather unenthusiastic.

“What are you planning?” Alcina asks, more concerned than you had ever heard her before. Attempting to reassure her, you manage a small smile before explaining.

“Got scratched and slobbered on by a lycan. Whatever they have, it’s infectious. If I want to save my leg, or at least have a chance at surviving, I have to take measures to reduce the likelihood of an infection,” you say. Now Alcina is slowly stroking her thumb across your hand, eyes narrowed with concern. There’s a look on her face that you can’t quite parse, something she’s not saying. For now you ignore it and continue going over your plan. “The best thing would be to amputate. The tourniquet might have helped prevent the saliva from getting further into my body- and I do mean might- but I can’t keep it on forever. Problem is… I don’t want to lose it. God, I’m terrified of that, and with what we have in the castle I… I’d be more likely to die of shock than not. So, well, forget that idea.

“I’m just going to remove the wound. By making a bigger wound. It’s crazy, I know, but this will kill me if we do nothing. It will probably kill me if we do. The technical term is some shit like ‘de-bride-ing’?... No, debridement, I think. Except normally the poor fucker getting cut open is asleep for the procedure.” By the time you’re done, Lady Dimitrescu is looking at you with horror. Yeah, you had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the idea. “Look, if this is too much… if it’s not worth saving me, if you’d rather give me a quick death, I understand. If I were-”

“Don’t be foolish, dear. You will not die, not as long as something can be done about it,” Alcina replies, quickly, eager to stop hearing you talk about dying. It’s… strange to hear her sound so confident about saving you, even stranger to realize what she called you. As if reading your thoughts, she shifts in her seat, avoiding your gaze for a moment. Shyness didn’t suit her, and you imagined it was more about her finding the right words. When she speaks, she’s looking right at you again. “I have hesitated to tell you the truth, and now I find the world playing a cruel trick on me, trying to take that which I adore. But I don’t want to aggravate your stress right now. Please, think nothing of what I have said.”

Before you could reply, footsteps reached your ears, and soon enough Daniela returns. In one hand she holds a large pitcher of water. In the other? Several knives, of various sizes, one of which you’re pretty sure you’ve seen Cassandra playing with before. As soon as you see her your face lights up, glad to be able to start the procedure.

“Oh thank fuck- or, I mean, thank you, Lady Daniela,” you stutter, reaching out as she offers you the items. Thankfully Bela had already made room on the table at your side, where she had set the bottle of alcohol down. For a moment you had forgotten that she was there. Had she already known about her mother’s feelings? Based on her lack of reaction, you could only assume that she was well aware. “I’m gonna scream, B-T-dubs. Just, uh, cover your ears?” You offer, already holding your chosen knife (big enough to be effective, small enough to offer precision).

“So… you’re going to do this yourself? Didn’t think you had it in you, red. Try not to cut anything important. Wouldn’t want to have to clean that mess up,” Daniela teases. As soon as she’s finished she has to shift into a swarm, as Bela flat out throws a knife at her. For a moment you freeze, watching as Alcina rises to her full height, staring her eldest daughter down. Behind her, Daniela reforms, clearly using her mother as a shield. “I was just trying to relieve the tension, jeez. It’s like you think she’s already dead.”

“Don’t speak another word!” Alcina snaps, sending a frightening stare towards Daniela. You cough, awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Meanwhile Bela is pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers, clearly tired of dealing with her sister’s sense of humor. “No one will speak a word until this is finished, unless my dear needs something, understood?” Both the girls nod at that, neither feeling a need to risk any further ire.

“I’m just going to start working now,” you awkwardly chime, taking a deep breath before leaning in towards your injured leg. On closer inspection you can see a strange, dark residue in the wound. They’re specks, scattered along the length of it, and they seem more common the closer you look to the gash’s center. Gross, you think. Half curious, half checking for legitimate reasons, you bring your other hand to the cut and gently spread both sides apart. It hurts like hell, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming. But sure enough, the residue is practically solid at the deepest point of the wound. “Those lycans really should be on leashes.”

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Daniela exchange looks with Bela, but neither of them disobey their mother (yet). Shaking the thought away, you finally get to the brunt of the task at hand. Your hand moves slowly, reluctant to inflict such damage against its own body. As soon as the tip of the knife touches your skin, you start to doubt your ability to do this. It takes looking at Alcina, seeing the way she watches you with equal parts concern and tenderness, to remind you why you’re doing this. Death just wasn’t something you could accept right now; not after what she had said, what she had implied.

The knife is fantastically sharp. Hardly any pressure is needed before your flesh gives away, cells letting go of their neighbors like it was a casual affair. You start at the left side of your injury, digging down a little, trying to only go as deep as you needed to. Tears formed in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away. As the first of many screams leaves your mouth, you turn and twist the knife, cutting to the right, then up. Like scooping the seeds out of a pumpkin. Fresh blood springs from the wound, starting to fill up the crevice. Quickly you discard the skin you removed by tossing it into the same bowl that Bela had put a bloody towel in earlier.

“Yes,” you shudder through gritted teeth, “this hurts so fucking bad. No, I don’t need someone to take over yet.” At this point neither of the present sisters are looking at you, seeming oddly uncomfortable at the sight of you cut up like this. Hadn’t they done worse to your fellow Maidens?... Whatever, the thought couldn’t last long when you still had work to do.

Next you take a fresh, damp cloth and dab at your injury, ignoring how it throbbed beneath your touch. Then you resumed cutting, forced to press the knife deeper in order to remove the spreading residue. If you had been a scientist, this would have been utterly fascinating to observe. Whatever had been in the lycan’s saliva was slowly eating at your flesh, but not outright dissolving it. No, it simply left the skin where it was, but killed and rapidly broke it down. Yes, it would have been fascinating, if not for the fact that there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to outpace the bacteria.

With this in mind you force yourself to hold in your next scream, hoping to make it easier for you to focus. The knife continued to cut, going lower, setting nerves alight as it did. Your vision starts to blur, and for a few seconds you think you’re going to black out. Someone says something you don’t hear, and then suddenly there’s a hand on top of your own. When your vision clears you see Bela is responsible, her grip keeping you from dropping the knife. She doesn’t let go until you give her a clear nod. Even then, she seems reluctant to let you continue.

Around this time is when Cassandra returns. Her footsteps catch your attention (it’s your understanding that carrying objects is much harder in swarm mode), and you spare her a quick glance before getting back to work. A few moments later she’s placing a set of needles and a long spool of thread next to you. Ironically, they’re the same tools that you’ve used to repair and adjust Alcina’s dresses over the past year. Hopefully they work just as well on flesh, you think. Your next thoughts are canceled out by unbelievable pain. More cries leave your lips, and your hand starts shaking. Panic is settling in fast, your movements getting sharper, leading you to make a brash decision: Time to care less about precision and more about speed.

“Distract me, please,” you gasp between grunts. No one responds at first, and you know they need clarification. Speaking is getting harder by the second, but you do your best. “Brain can’t process many stimulants, same time. Just- fuck- trace skin around wound, touch hair, anything.” Somewhere between your semi-broken sentences and screams, Alcina gets the message. She’s moving closer, now, behind you, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other rubbing gentle circles on your undamaged leg. Across from you Daniela is too busy pacing to help, though you can hardly blame her.

“Should I get the metal thing from the stove?” Cassandra asks, silently hoping that Dani hadn’t assumed someone else was going to handle that part. You’re still in too much pain to talk, so you half nod half grunt in response. Not bothering to say anything, the middle child takes off, swarm moving at what might be a new speed record.

As much as your hands are shaking, you still manage to cut away another strip of flesh, tossing it aside with even less care than before. This time Bela wipes the wound for you, practically reading your mind. The moment her hands are completely out of the way you start cutting again, crying out, throat shredded to pieces from all your screaming. Alcina sounds like she might be close to sobbing, but she doesn’t stop her movements, doing her best to distract you just like you had asked. Even Bela helps, now, tracing spots around your injury whenever she knows she won’t be in your way. The effect is minor, in the end, hardly making a dent in how much pain you’re processing.

If you survive this, though, you’re hugging every daughter as tight as you can and showering them with affection… but only after you finish doing the same for their mother.

“You are so brave,” Alcina murmurs next to your ear. It’s even clearer now how close she is to crying, her voice seconds away from cracking. Hearing her like this almost hurts as bad as the initial lycan attack did. “You are so strong. No other mortal could ever be your match. Do you understand, my dear? You are blessed, divine, and I love you so much.”

In any other setting, her words would leave you melting in her arms, radiating affection so strongly that you might as well have been radioactive. Instead, you are unable to respond, or even look her way. All you can do is press the knife to your skin again, showing your own feelings by destroying yourself for her.

The blade is starting to find more resistance, and you’re having to pause more often, spots appearing in your vision. Going faster only makes things worse, your hand threatening to slip. You’re determined to finish this, no matter what, but your need to control the situation is gradually making things worse. Alcina notices this before you do, and acts before you have a chance to protest.

“Bela, the knife,” she says, then tightens her grip on your waist. Your confusion shifts to panic as your arm is carefully, but forcefully, pulled away from your wound. “Can you finish the job?” It takes you a few moments to realize that Alcina isn’t talking to you. No, she’s speaking to her eldest daughter, who doesn’t hesitate to take the knife away from you. It’s so easy for her, between her strength and your weakness. “Don’t struggle. Let us finish this.”

Protests rise from your throat and die in your mouth. Pain flares harder now that Bela isn’t distracting you. Once more your vision goes dark, but this time there’s no pause, no hesitation. You are suffering, horribly, and the Dimitrescu family refuses to make you hurt longer than necessary. It’ll be over soon, you think, not knowing whether you refer to your pain or your life itself.

Something wet drops onto the back of your neck, then darkness overtakes you…

------------------------

“Damn those lycans, I should string Heisenberg up myself! They’re his responsibility, after all,” Lady Dimitrescu snarls, trying to ignore the tears in her eyes. Now that you’re unconscious, unable to hear what ails her, she feels free to voice her thoughts. “The damn things should never have come close to the path to the village.”

“What if she strayed from the path? Wouldn’t that explain it?” Bela suggests, even as her hands work to remove what seems to be the last piece of dead/infected flesh from your leg. She hates how the words feel in her mouth, hates suggesting that you of all people might have betrayed her mother’s trust. But it makes sense. After all, this whole mess, with you leaving the castle to retrieve a mysterious package, was all a test to see if you would try to run. It hadn’t been her idea, and Bela admitted to herself that she thought it was unnecessary.

“On the way back? Why would she bother getting the package if she intended to run?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, right as Cassandra returns. The middle child is practically juggling the metal spatula she’s carrying, irritated (not harmed) by the heat it produced. One of her brows perks up when she hears the conversation, but she keeps any thoughts she has to herself.

“Just a thought, mother, I didn’t quite believe it myself,” Bela chimes, after a pause. With that said she holds up her hand with pride, clutching between her fingers the last of the decaying flesh. The way the others react, one might have thought that a miracle had been performed. Daniela clapped her hands together, giggling a little, and finally stopped her pacing. “Don’t celebrate too much, now,” Bela reminded her, taking the spatula from Cassandra as she did. “There’s still plenty to do. It’s a good thing she’s not awake for this part.”

A good thing, indeed. She uses her fingers to spread the remaining skin a little, giving a quick examination, then deciding that she had successfully removed all remaining residue. Keeping her fingers where they were, she pressed the side of the spatula to your skin, putting the most pressure at the center of the wound. Three seconds passed, then she lifted her hand. A pause. She pressed it back into place, keeping a close eye on the affected area. This repeated several times, the gaps being necessary to prevent unintentional damage. Once the wound seemed properly closed she set the spatula aside.

“Is that it?... Did we save her?” Daniela asks, opting to finally sit down in a nearby chair. Something about her word choice makes both of her sisters scoff.

“I could sew it closed, as a precaution, but there’s no way I’d do it the way she had intended. It might be best to just give her time to rest, and see what she thinks when she gets back up,” Bela answers. For a moment her words hang in the air, but eventually Alcina gives a little nod and a hum.

“Very well. I shall carry her to my quarters, where she won’t be disturbed. Please, let one of the Maidens know to bring some food up this evening,” Alcina says, gently taking you into her arms as she does…

------------------------

BAD ENDING: It’s been six hours, with no sign of you waking up. Your other wounds had been examined, cleaned, and bandaged. Food had been carefully prepared and brought up to you, though it now remained on the bedside table, untouched. Alcina has gone to call Mother Miranda, intending to speak to her about the growing unrest of the lycans, as Heisenberg hadn’t answered his phone. For the first time since you returned you are alone. It is now, of all times, that you awaken. A gasp sends you into a coughing spree, forcing you into a sitting position. The space around you feels like it's moving, and your vision blurs. Blood spills from your mouth as you finally regain the ability to breathe.

Seconds later your vision clears, but what you see is enough to make you wish you couldn’t. The blood that spilled onto the sheets is a dark red… with even darker spots scattered throughout it. All at once you know what happened: Residue had hidden from you, or gone deeper than your wound, infecting you before you ever stood a chance. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but something deeper starts calling to you. Something older. Darker. It drags you to your feet, ignores the pain of your wounds, and sends you out the bedroom door.

Your mind is racing, thoughts never quite clear enough for you to understand. It doesn’t feel like you’re in control of your own movements. Was something else in charge, or were you operating on an infection powered autopilot? Answers weren’t coming, just bloodshed.

“You’re not supposed to be out of bed yet!” A voice calls out to you, making you turn to investigate. On the other end of the hallway is a maiden, one you instantly recognize. You’ve worked with her before, plenty of times, tag-teaming more tasks than you could count. She was like a sister to you. When she sees the blood staining your clothes, she gasps, then moves to support you. “Please, Lady Dimitrescu will be so upset if you-” her words melt into a blood curdling scream. For a moment you don’t understand.

And then you swallow, a chunk of hot meat slipping down your throat, and the scream dies down.

“What?...” You whisper, finally tasting the blood in your mouth, watching as your friend’s body falls to the floor. There’s a chunk of flesh missing from her neck, and the dots connect themselves in your head. You did that. Every part of you wants to scream, wants to cry out and beg someone to come kill you. Instead you fall to your knees, hard, uncaring. Your hands move themselves, grasping at the still warm corpse. Something has made you stronger, or at the very least removed the mental limits that kept you from destroying yourself. Flesh gives under your touch, tearing like paper, and you start crying as it reaches your mouth.

Footsteps approach, thundering fast, and you want to warn whoever it is. When you turn to look, you feel your hands let go of your meal. Your gaze meets that of a stunned Cassandra Dimitrescu, then drifts to the sickle in her hand.

“Kill me,” you growl, voice distorted, practically echoing. “Kill me now!” Not needing to be told a third time, Cassandra moves lightning quick, swarm-jumping forward before manifesting behind you, sickle dragging across your throat in one smooth motion. But it’s not enough. She realizes this, though, and slams her foot into your back, sending you tumbling forward. It’s enough to prevent you from countering, which gives her time to advance again, this time pulling a knife from her boot and driving it into the center of your back. When you scream, it’s not with your own voice, but that of a monster.

“Fucking fuck, what the fuck, red?” Daniella asks as she rounds the corner, eyes immediately landing on your bloodsoaked mouth. She’s quick to take in the scene, drawing a conclusion easily, even if it breaks her heart a little. Your vision fades as she approaches, and you know that it’s finally over. If only you had expired a few seconds earlier… because the last thing you hear is the startled cry of your would-be lover.

“No! No, darling, what happened-” Alcina finishes her sentence, but you do not hear it. You do not hear anything, anymore. You do not know it… but there will be hell to pay for your death.

------------------------

GOOD ENDING: When you awake, you find yourself in the softest sheets you’ve ever touched, a warm and familiar presence next to you. The first thing you see is Alcina’s sleeping face next to your own. She’s on her side, one arm around your waist, the covers pulled up to her hip. Warmth fills your chest as you take in the sight. For a few moments you just… appreciate this. Never before had you imagined that you would get to wake up next to the woman you loved so much. A sigh, one of bliss, leaves your lips. Slowly you move forward, gently placing a kiss to Alcina’s cheek. Seconds later her eyelids flutter open, and she tiredly takes you in.

“You’re… awake,” she murmurs, hardly awake herself. But her fatigue doesn’t last long. As soon as she’s fully processed the situation her eyes go wide. Then she’s pulling you closer, careful not to hurt you, and peppering little kisses over your face. “I’ve been so worried, dear. You scared us so much.” The hurt in her voice leaves you restless, making you curl up against her, desperate to soothe her worries. Moving hurts a little, but not enough to dissuade you from your goal.

“I’m sorry, love,” you say, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m okay, I’m alive, the plan worked out. You don’t have to fret for me anymore. I won’t leave you, I promise.” Slowly but surely, Alcina calms, exchanging kisses for softly running her fingers through your hair. There’s such love in her eyes that you can hardly believe you aren’t dreaming. “You’re amazing, Alcina. I could stay like this all day.”

“Maybe we should,” she offers, chuckling a little. Once again you give her a quick kiss, unable to resist the urge. “I should have never asked you to leave. I should have just trusted you.” The words give you pause, and you tilt your head in confusion. Realizing that you still didn’t know the full story, Alcina frowns. “The package is worthless, just a bundle of straw and a few rocks for weight. It was never what I cared about.”

Tension builds in your chest, and for a few seconds you have no idea how to react. It takes a minute for you to think, to connect the dots, but once you do it’s a tad bit easier to breathe. A scowl twists your lips as you think of what to say.

“If I had known that Heisenberg was forgoing his duties, I never would have sent you outside,” Alcina adds, the silence taking its toll on her.

“You shouldn’t have sent me either way,” you respond, bitterly, thinking of all that you had seen and heard on your journey. “I would have done anything to prove to you how I feel. There are other ways to show devotion- far less dangerous ways, at that.”

“I know, dear. You have every right to be angry… and watching you suffer has taught me all that I need to know,” Alcina says, still playing with your hair, trying to ease the tension. As upset as you about this recent revelation… it’s not enough to change how you feel about her, and you want her to understand that, fully and completely.

So you lean into her touch, let your eyes drift close for a moment, then softly place one of your arms around her as best as you can.

“We’ll need to talk about this more… just not right now. Right now, I need you, Alcina. I need to hold you, and be held by you, and just know that you’re here. That I’m here. That neither of us are going anywhere,” you say, resting your forehead against hers. “I need to feel safe, and your arms are the safest place I can imagine. Stay here with me?”

“It will be the easiest thing I have ever done.”

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #tw blood #tw self harm #tw cannibalism #blood blood blood oops #I wrote this instead of sleeping because my hands cannot be stopped #typeity type type type #sorry if the formatting is off #i'm trying the new editor or whatever #if it's fucked I'll fix it whenever I wake up

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bumbleklee · 3 years

Text

windblume confession(s)

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | pregnancy series

request: (@illusory-torrent) can i ask the meaning behind your url?? just curious. and could i also please request some kaeya and albedo getting competitive over the reader? reader can be gender neutral, i just wanna see my two best bois being competitive haha. thank you!

pairings: albedo x gn!reader, kaeya x gn!reader (love triangle)

warnings: none! (1.5k words)

a/n: soooo the meaning behind my url - it’s not that special lol. i wanted to make a genshin pun (klee = bee) and this is the first thing i came up with. also bea/bee, bumblebea/bumblebee, yktv

During the Windblume Festival, bouquets of flowers and letters were spilling off of your desk everyday. Despite knowing that most of the gifts came from anonymous senders, your heart still skipped a beat.

Part of you wondered if any of them were a prank. You didn’t see yourself as anything special, you weren’t as feminine and pretty as Barbara or muscular like Wagner, yet quite a few patrons found you good enough to pine over.

You skimmed through the gifts one day to see if you recognized any of the names. There was a letter from Bennett that was clearly addressed to Fischl so you tucked away the special note in a drawer with promises to deliver it later. You also found a letter from one of the Knight’s on your squad - but he was much younger than you and, frankly, the letter sounded like puppy love. Two contrasting bouquets of flowers sat side-by-side on the edge of your desk so you reached for them.

The first bouquet was about a dozen calla lilies tied together with a blue ribbon and the second was cecilia’s in a glass vase. The flowers piqued your interest, your mind already forming an idea about where they came from, and you read the attached cards.

“Meet me in the library,” You read aloud, your fingers tracing the edges of the cardstock. It wasn’t signed by anyone. The second one has a similar message, “Find me in the library.”

You wondered if the flowers were sent by the same person. But then why wouldn’t they state that? The questions made you wonder, again, if this was a trap. Could the flowers be from someone who wanted to mess with you? But despite your doubts, you grabbed your things and headed down the stairs to the library.

When you pushed open the door to the library, you realized you had no idea who or what you were looking for. The library was decorated beautifully, ribbon and flowers displayed on tables or breaks between the bookcases. The room itself smelled fresh, too, unlike its usual dusty aroma. While you glanced around the library, you saw Lisa sitting behind her desk and went to see if she knew what was going on.

“Happy Windblume Festival,” You smiled warmly at your coworker, “You’re not going to believe what I received.”

Lisa stopped reading her book to look up at you, the ghost of a smirk on her lips, “Hello, there. So many love-birds flew into your office this morning, I can only imagine what they brought you.”

You rolled your eyes, “Too many unrequited confessions.” She laughed softly at your joke, “Besides that, I received two bouquets of flowers that both told me to meet them here. Isn’t that strange?”

Lisa covered her mouth with a gloved hand and giggled again, “I think there’s something downstairs who would love to see you.”

You raised an eyebrow at Lisa but thanked her and took off down the stairs, careful not to slip on the wooden steps. As soon as your foot touched the floor, your sight met two men who had stopped bickering less than a moment ago. Kaeya and Albedo stood in front of a table, trying to put themselves back together in your presence.

“What’s going on?” You asked, realizing they were probably waiting for you. “Were the flowers from both of you?”

Kaeya and Albedo looked between each other, seemingly glaring dangers at each other. “I don’t know why he’s here,” Kaeya sneered, motioning to Albedo.

“Well, I don’t know why you’re here,” Albedo parroted, crossing his arms. You had never heard either of the men sound as ticked off as they were now.

“You both told me to meet you in the library,” You explained, confused. “That wasn’t planned?”

“No!” They said in unison.

You rubbed your temples, knowing that this wasn’t going to end easily. “I’m sorry,” You mumbled, “But can someone explain what’s going on.”

“Mr. Alberich overheard me planning to surprise you during the Windblume Festival and decided to ruin my plans,” Albedo said. When he spoke Kaeya’s name, there was nothing but venom in his tone.

Kaeya shrugged sarcastically, “I had no prior knowledge.”

“You used Klee to eavesdrop.”

“Did I, now?”

Albedo ran a hand through his hair, aggravated and annoyed. He had never liked Kaeya and this only fueled that fire. Kaeya wasn’t fond of Albedo either. He thought he was overrated in Mondstadt and that his admirers could do better.

“I mean,” Kaeya continued, giving Albedo the side eye, “Was it supposed to be a secret? You were awfully careless with the news.”

“My deepest apologies, I wasn’t aware I needed to broadcast my confession to all of Mondstadt before telling Y/N.”

“Your confession?” You wondered, “So the flowers weren’t a joke?”

Albedo looked at you with curious, and confused, eyes. “A joke? Of course not,” He said. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, something you had never seen before, and Albedo fiddled with his gloved fingers nervously.

“I wanted to do that first,” Kaeya interjected, frowning slightly.

Kaeya’s words caught you off guard as well. “You like me, too?” He nodded in response and the three of you stood still for a while. Your mind was racing and your heart was beating out of your chest. You couldn’t believe not one but two of your coworkers had a crush on you and were confessing to you. But then the nerve-wracking decision came crashing down on you.

You had to pick one of them, right? The whole point of confessions was to find a possible suitor and here you had two options in front of you. Of course, you could reject both of them and run away but was that how you truly felt?

Albedo was soft and genuine. He often painted portraits of you and took you up to Dragonspine so could have snowball fights with Klee. He paid for dinner for you and recommended new books for you to read during your days off. At that moment, they seemed like friendly gestures. But looking back, you realized they were probably acts to one up Kaeya.

Likewise, Kaeya had his own plans to win you over. He spent exciting nights with you at the tavern and never complained about taking you home when you drank too much. Instead of buying you food, Kaeya bought you gifts like jewelry or artifacts. He often accompanied you on commissions, too.

“I need time to think this over,” You finally said. “Please, just agree not to kill each other in the meantime.”

Kaeya grumbled something under his breath, “Fine.”

“Why do you like me?” You asked, looking at Kaeya. “If you’re going to confess, then confess fully.”

The taller man thought for a moment before sending you his classic, cheeky grin. “I like having a challenge and you, my dear, proved to be that challenge.”

“What?” You asked, slightly offended.

“You play hard to get,” Kaeya continued, using his hands to accentuate his words, “I spoiled you for months and you still acted like we were nothing more than friends. Do friends buy each other gold necklaces in hopes they’ll realize you’ve fallen for them? You even have the necklace on to this day.” Instinctively, your fingers coiled around the dainty necklace around your neck that Kaeya had gifted to you weeks ago. When he gave it to you, you recognized it was a peculiar gift but played it off as Kaeya being extravagant. He sharpened his eyes, “Need I mention you’re the most exquisite looking person in Teyvat?”

Your voice caught in your throat and your cheeks burned with the compliment. You nervously played with the hem of your shirt and looked at Albedo for his answer.

“I just think you’re different,” He said simply, “You’re easy to get along with and I enjoy spending time with you. I feel like we’re compatible puzzle pieces.”

If possible, you blushed harder. Both men were darling and you felt like the luckiest person alive by being adored by both of them. As you glanced between the men, your stomach did a backflip. They were both looking at you with such intent and charisma, as if trying to enchant you. The idea of being with either of them made you feel butterflies.

But they are so drastically different, which made the decision that much harder. If you choose Kaeya, your relationship would be fiery and brand new all the time. He was full of adventure and flirting, favoring nightlife and excitement. And with Albedo, it would be calm and joyous. Your days would be spent in flower fields and underneath trees. Both sounded like a dream to you.

“I don’t know who to pick,” You admitted, holding back a sigh of defeat. “I never thought multiple people would like me at once, let alone you two. I just need more time.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and walked back up the stairs. Your head felt light and your mind was clouded with a million different scenarios. You felt guilty for leaving the men alone but until you could come up with a definite answer, they could wait.

#genshin x reader #albedo x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact #genshin writing #genshin x you #genshin x gn reader #albedo x gn reader #kaeya x gn reader #genshin love triangle #i love how this came out #butterfly divider is by hinaolgy #genshin impact x reader #genshin kaeya

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auramindedd · 3 years

Text

Fixed? Never - SMAU*

Part 3

CorpseHusband x FemReader

Warnings: cussing

A/N: again, any posts with a “ * ” attached to “smau” has writing in it. imma focus A LOT more on just the social media n message perspective, but y/n n corpse meet in this part soooo i had to add some writing :) something else b4 i forget; i’m updating my masterlist and changing it into a directory post that way you guys can also request through a google form! i’ll have requests open at all times unless i get too stressed out or if they overfill. due to me changing my masterlist, there’s gonna be about 6 posts i think. also,, thank you guys so much for 600 followers! i’ve been hitting a bunch of milestones and haven’t been remembering to say thank you, but just know that i appreciate every single one of you... also i love reading y’all’s comments 😭

🤍 directory

🕊 previous

☁️ next

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You make sure you’re set up before 6 PM, which was probably a mistake. You can’t sit still, you’re starting to get nervous, and you kind of just want to run away to McDonald’s.

Sure, you know Ludwig, Dream, and Rae, but it feels like you’re at school all over again. That anxious feeling of having to be with people while your best friends aren’t around.

You’re leg is bouncing, your nails are tapping on your desk, and you can’t stop running your hand through your hair. It probably looks like a fucking bird nest by now.

You start streaming, deciding that maybe talking to your supporters will make things a bit better.

“Hey, loves,” You greet in a not so Y/N-fashioned way. Of course, the chat catches on, and you’re being called out for it. You can’t help but giggle at the fact that your supporters know how you usually are.

@user: What happened to, “Hey, bitches!”

@user: Ou, someone is nervous.

Yeah, they obviously know you very well.

“Alright, let’s start over.” You clear your throat for dramatic effect because, well, when are you not dramatic? “Hey, bitches!” Yup, even you know that just feels right.

After a while of talking to your supporters, Rae sends you the Discord invite and the Among Us code. You join, feeling your nerves start to come back.

“Y/N!” Rae exclaims in excitement when she sees you’ve joined the Among Us lobby.

“Hi,” You say, shyness lacing your voice.

“Oh my God! The cutest voice.” Jack says. Wow, what a compliment coming from the Jack_Septic_Eye.

You take time to introduce yourself to everyone, trying to calm your nerves.

“Are we gonna start?” Ludwig’s impatient ass asks.

“We’re waiting for Corpse.” Rae explains.

Shit, another person you have to introduce yourself to?

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets quickly, very obviously racing to be the first to say hi to Corpse.

“Hey, Sykkuno,” Corpse chuckles, and woah, the last thing you expected. You can’t help but be surprised, and you know it’s showing on your face. Why? Because your supporters are teasing you in the chat.

“Corpse,” Rae says in a sing-songy tone. “This is Y/N.” And your heart drops to your fucking stomach. Every single time it happens when you have to meet someone, but now your heart is beating even faster because you’re obviously the only one who hasn’t met Corpse. They’re all expecting a reaction out of you...

“Hey, Y/N.” His deep, husky voice says. You can hear the smile in his voice and it helps ease your nerves.

“Hi,” You greet, shyness still lacing your voice.

Corpse chuckles, “So cute.” Now you’re blushing. Great...

Rae starts the game, saving you before the others can start teasing you.

Crewmate.

You’ve only played Among Us once, in a public server with Dream, George, Karl, and Alex, and then you got bullied for not knowing what the fuck to do.

To say the least, you’re pretty glad to be Crewmate and not Impostor.

“Y/N!” Jack shouts, walking up to you. You slightly jump, forgetting they’re playing with Proximity Chat.

“Jack!” You shout back, letting his astronaut catch up to you.

“We were expecting a reaction.” He says, and of course they were.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t know. I feel like he hears it a lot, don’t want to add on to the list of Things People Say To Him Everyday.”

“Yeah, he’s probably very grateful for that.”

“Grateful for what?” Charlie walks up to you two.

“Nothing,” Jack drawls. You’ve just met Charlie, but you know that he’d tease both you and Corpse about one another’s voices.

“Oh, I know!” Charlie exclaims, but before he can say what he knows-

“Okayyy! That’s enough interaction with Charlie for today.” Jack says, and you take that as a, ‘Walk the fuck away now, Y/N!’

You walk around, trying your best to finish tasks, but when it comes to the card swipe in Admin, you want to quit life as a whole.

“Ugh, I fucking quit.” You groan, slamming your hands on your desk. A deep, rumbling chuckle comes through on your headphones.

“Having trouble?” Corpse teases.

“Yeah. I wanna rip every strand of my fucking hair out.”

“Swipe it slower.” And with that, you try again. Voila! Just like magic.

“Well if I would’ve fucking known.” You groan, Corpse chuckling.

“Here, I can help you with the game.”

“Yes, please, I don’t know shit about it.”

“You know, you cuss a lot for having such a sweet, innocent, and cute voice.” Corpse laughs.

“Yeah,” You drawl. “I know, bad fucking habit.” You slap your hand over your mouth. How does someone cuss in every sentence? Get a filter, damn.

Corpse walks around with you as you both finish tasks, explaining how the game works, and giving you tips for when you do end up being an Impostor.

Honestly, you could listen to his voice all day. He’s also really sweet.

“What are you two up to?” Brooke asks, doing tasks in Electrical with you two. Corpse told you to make sure you’re always aware of your surroundings when you’re in Electrical. So, naturally, you’re freaking out, but silently and internally.

“Brooke,” Corpse warns. He doesn’t even have time to finish his warning. Brooke kills him, his body flopping over, the one bone sticking out from the top of his body. Your mouth falls open.

“Hey, Y/N. Let’s be besties!” You don’t know what to do, but ay, #girlsupportinggirls, right? So, you walk with her. She helps you along the way, also telling you tips on the game, explaining how everything works. Then, after about a minute, a whole 60 seconds, Corpse’s body is reported.

“Why Corpse? Such an innocent man with a beautiful voice.” Lud fake cries.

“Get over it,” Brooke says.

“It’s Brooke! Brooke’s an Impostor!” Lud shouts.

“What? No! I was with Y/N for a lot of this round.” Brooke defends herself, and oh fuck, who the fuck do you defend? You’ve just met both of them, one of them will possibly hate you forever.

“Y/N?” Sykkuno grabs your attention, snapping you out of your thinking.

“Yeah, she was. She wouldn’t have had time to kill Corpse. Where was the body?” Well, there you go, potentially ruining yours and Corpse’s blooming friendship. Sad Girl Hour, type beat.

“In Electrical,” Charlie says.

“Yeah, no way she would’ve had to time to kill him.”

Nobody’s voted out. Brooke hasn’t even told you who the second Impostor is so, you don’t know if you should stay with her or not.

As you and Brooke are walking around, or skipping as she sees it, and holding hands, Dream pops out of a vent. Well, there’s Imposter two.

“Woah! Dream, way to out yourself out.” You tease, throwing your head back and laughing.

“Please, you’ve been with Brooke the whole time. Don’t say anything.” Dream begs, making you and Brooke giggle.

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Thank you,” He starts walking away from you guys, but not without finishing his sentence that you thought was already finished. “Cutie.” And there, finished.

Fucking finished! Tweedle-dee, tweedle dum! Whoopty-fucking-do! Fan-fucking-tastic! A-fucking-mazing!

And of course you’re blushing for the whole 80,000+ people watching to tease you about.

“Oh my God!” Brooke squeals. “What was that?!”

“I’ll explain later,”

•*•*•*•*•

“Y/N, how could you?” Corpse says, offended.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to do.”

“She’s my enemy, Y/N. We were supposed to stick together. I told you some tips and tricks, explained how to be a badass Impostor, everything!” Wow, he’s a good fucking actor.

“I can very well do the same thing, bitch.” Brooke spits, all in a playful manner - you hope...

“Not better than me, bitch.” Corpse retorts, his astronaut getting closer.

•*•*•*•*•

Imposter.

With Corpse.

Great.

Your enemy. Or as he put it, “Enemy who he can maybe, and most likely, will become friends with in the near future.”

“Follow,” He says, and even though he’s your enemy, you do.

“I gotta do my own thing.”

“You don’t know how to do shit.” Corpse scoffs.

“Okay then, what the fuck are we gonna do?”

“Double kills, all the way, but only when we meet up with each other. So, right now, we’ll both go our own ways, but when we see each other again, we’ll walk to a pair and do a double kill if we can.” Corpse explains.

“Brooke told me not to do double kills often. It won’t help get through a game.”

Corpse snorts, “Brooke doesn’t know dog shit about this game.”

“Fine,” You groan, going along with it only because you don’t know dog shit about the game either.

As Corpse explained, you two do double kills every time you meet up. You two managed to get double kills where people rarely go - Shields, Comms, and the top of Cafeteria.

After killing Rae and Sykkuno, the game ends. You made sure to leave Brooke and Dream alive.

“Period, we did that!” You exclaim, everyone else groaning and complaining about how you two should never be an Impostor duo again. “But I still fucking hate you because you hate me!”

“Exactly!” Corpse retorts in the same tone as you.

•*•*•*•*•

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist - comment or message me to be added!

* if your username is in bold, please reach out to me; you’re at risk of having your username removed that way i can clear space for other tags. *

@cherry-piee @littlered00 @sunnywinterdays @strang-ersclub @callmemaeve-y @powerpuffyn @kusuinko @where-thesundoesntshine @letglimmersayfuck @coryisagee @a-dot-dev @ifilosemyselfagain @tayloryorkscurls @lex-prplatmngrl @letsloveimagines @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @smiithys @mikayladoesntknow @clubfairy @mirahg @thurstyforholland @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @majasophieanna

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Tags - ignore::

#corpse husband scenario #corpse x y/n #corpse husband scenarios #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband fic #corpse fanfic #corpse husband #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse fic #corpse supremacy #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband smau #corpse husband social media au #corpse x you #corpse x fem reader #corpsehusband #smau #social media au

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bored-storyteller · 3 years

Text

@severnrose honey, I shouldn't have preferences but how could I wait to write for you and Xiao?

Dear Xiao, sweet Xiao, thank you for asking, I have good reasons to love you :3

60- Genshin Impact, Xiao x Reader (angst/comfort)

From the prompt list

17- "Am I the reason you cry every night?"

33- "Do you know how it feels to wish for death every day?"

For Xiao you are like a little sparrow, so fragile and so free at the same time. He never understood what bad star forced you to meet with him, it was something so unlikely that it might have seemed ironic, but still he never tried to put you in a cage. You didn't deserve it. Sure, you're an absurd being, sometimes annoying, sometimes inconsistent and stupid, but you're also something he never bothered to find, a free kindness and a relief he always knew he didn't deserve.

So he never wanted to condemn you to a relationship with someone like him.

For this reason, when the darkness inside him had become heavier, when he realized he had gone too far, he pushed your worried eyes away from him. It was his job to protect you too, and he hadn't noticed the wound he had inflicted on you.

He is never too kind with words, he doesn't talk much and when he does he is never able to sweeten his sentences. It has always gone well with you.

Yet this time something was different; maybe he had been worse without realizing it, or maybe you were more fragile than usual, but he immediately opened a cruel door in front of you and a wave of awareness hit you. Yes, you were nothing but a burden to him.

Xiao hadn't seen you since that day. Or rather, he had happened to see you around, as always, doing your chores, helping where there was need, but he had no longer had the opportunity to be with you, alone, as you used to do from time to time, maybe in the evening, under the stars.

Initially he hadn't done anything, he hadn't thought of anything either. You were simply too busy, as he was, on the other hand.

But one night, about to give way to the morning, while he was checking his wounds, your sobs had come to him, and so did the next night, and the one after that.

He found himself listening to your silent cry every night, and he watched over you, albeit from a distance. And when he reluctantly had to walk away, he cursed anyone who caused you that unspoken suffering. If only you wanted to tell him he would be ready to protect you, again. But again, you were a fragile, free little bird, and he wasn't enough for you, he wasn't enough to take the pain away from your heart. Someday in the near future that would pass, everything passes for mortals, and maybe he could see you smiling again under the stars. This was what he believed - or hoped for.

But in one of those dark moments, your call rang in his ears and vibrated in his bowels. Wherever he was, he recognized his name spoken by you, in the agony of your nights.

He had joined you immediately, he had immediately appeared there, standing at your bedside.

Your name had escaped his lips perhaps too quickly, and for a few seconds he waited for an answer that never came. In its place, your sobs continued soft and distressed, your body curled up under the pale sheets.

He should have sensed right away, that yours was just a moan in your sleep, but somehow it had been necessary for him to chase the chance to see you again. How long had he not seen you?

Your suffering face made his heart tremble; he would have devoured your nightmares if you asked him.

He again spoke your name, his hand shaking you slightly, trying to tear you out of your dream.

Your reaction had been more violent than he expected and had broken the composure of the Adeptus for a moment, making him move backwards, taken by surprise. However, he thought it was normal, given the sudden awakening.

"Xiao!" His name had been uttered by your voice in amazement, but it was soon abandoned as you took your eyes off his figure "What are you doing here?"

The delicate face of the millennial Yaksha frowned in perplexity. Even now that he was there in front of you, did you persist in hiding your torments from him?

"You called me." His response was swift and straightforward, as always.

"I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to, I'm really sorry." Your apologies were fragile and uncertain.

Xiao let out a slight sigh, while his dark lashes lowered to the precious gold irises.

"Why don't you tell me?" The question he asked you later was unexpected, and for a moment you shivered at the authority of his voice, but he didn't realize "What happened?"

"Nothing." You cut it short and it irritated him. You knew how to be so stubborn when you wanted to.

"I hear your sobs every night."

He didn't want to utter those words as an accusation, maybe he hadn't even done it, but suddenly you stiffened and bowed your head even more, guilty.

"I'm sorry…!" Now your voice was broken and desperate, and a doubt began to creep into Xiao's mind as slimy as a snake.

How long haven't you called him? Why weren't you looking at him? Why weren't you smiling at him anymore?

"Who ... has anyone hurt you?" Now it was he who had lost confidence in his voice.

"Nobody ... really." You had obviously made an effort to stay calm, and somehow reassure him. But even though he didn't really understand human emotions, even though he was a different and detached creature, he could sense you.

"It's me…?" He couldn't explain why, but he felt like he was hurting himself "Am I the reason you cry every night?"

Your silence was a new pain for him. You didn't dare look at him, because it was hard for you to admit how much his distance and his disappointment had upset you.

But behind his sweet stoic face he prayed to have your eyes on him, he prayed for you to remove that horrible, strange feeling that made its way inside him, at least until he was forced to turn his back on you.

Xiao is used to pain and suffering, but that time something had changed. It was something new, something he never wanted to try.

A fist clung to his chest, and he trembled. How long had his hands no longer been shaking?

He thought he was about to give in, he believed that finally his heart would break under the weight of the new, umpteenth, fault of him.

He felt the physical need to vent that sudden wave of suffering that had hit him. He wanted to cry, but Xiao didn't know what it meant to cry, so he didn't, and he just vanished, not even looking at you.

It was the only thing he could do to protect you, right? If he was the cause of your suffering, then he would no longer exist for you. It didn't matter what he did, he didn't even ask himself, he just knew he hurt you. After all, he must already know that this was his destiny.

...

You never called him again, and Xiao never showed up again. Yet, although he endured this condition with the same resignation with which he endured every painful task of him, he realized that the selfish desire he had for you had not ceased. He didn't know how to call it by name, he just knew that it was really selfish, on his part, to expect that a little bird like you at least a little bit remained attached to him.

However, even if you despised him, even if he could no longer hear your voice or your laugh even though you were still breathing, somehow at least he hoped to remain present in your memory.

So every morning a flower was placed on your window sill. He never brought you the same type of flower two consecutive days. He didn't admit it to himself, but he wanted at least in one corner of your mind the whole Liyue to remind you of him. The scent of its flora, its colors and the sweetness of it, he hoped that even if you didn't want those things would make you think of that cruel guardian. Not that Xiao dared compare himself to flowers, no, but certainly those flowers could be compared to you for him.

The Adeptus wasn't good with words, but he was capable of meaningful and powerful gestures - it was something you loved about him.

You didn't need to know that those flowers came from him - even if it was unlikely they were someone else's gifts - and he relied on your kindness to accept them with a smile.

For a while it had worked. Even though he could no longer see you and have you around, that little contact you maintained had given him a sense of peace. In evil it was that little drop of good that gave him the relief he needed.

But he couldn't deserve that either.

One morning, when the first rays of the sun began to paint the earth with the warm colors of dawn, he came to your window. The Glaze Lily he had plucked for you had remained clasped in his hands as his eyes painfully gazed upon the Qingxin he had given you the previous day, left to itself on the windowsill, away from your care.

It was so, even the thought of him you could no longer bear.

The flowers stopped coming and Xiao stopped hoping. He only prayed that Rex Lapis would see your sweetness and cherish it with love, without needing you to endure the protection of a cursed Adeptus.

...

Xiao wanted to see you again, but certainly not right now.

The first thing his mind thought was nothing, then immediately afterwards he wondered which Archon had to thank for not killing you during his battle, and then all that was important was that you were standing in front of him, and looking at him, even if from a distance.

His mask frees his face as soon as his eyes settle on you. How long had he not seen you? For a moment the pain disappears, a wonderful, ephemeral second of peace. And then again the weight of darkness falls upon him.

He should run away, run away from your sight, but like under a spell he is stuck in his place, and you still don't run away.

You are pale and scared, your eyes full of tears. How much have you seen? How long have you been there?

It doesn't matter if the blood that covers him is that of his enemies, of those who want to harm those like you, all that matters is how Xiao now appears before you: a figure disfigured by the red of shattered life, a devouring demon .

He should go, but you call him.

"Xiao ..." His name in your voice is a desperate breath as it is sweet, and you run to meet him in your anguish.

He can't look at you, not when he's like that. He looks at the ground covered in repulsive liquids, without having the courage to meet your judgment. He would have liked to see you again, but now he is ashamed of who he is, he is ashamed of being Alatus, of being the Conqueror of Demons and the Eater of Dreams, he is ashamed of being Xiao before your pure eyes.

Now you are a few steps away, he hears you, but you are afraid to approach. He wonders why you ever even wanted to come close to him again, was it your good heart that pushed you to do it?

"Do you know how it feels to wish for death every day?" He did not want to ask that question, yet he posed it in front of you limpid and clear, as his "no" always are.

If he could die he would no longer distress you, nor would he hurt you, nor would he make you cry. If he could die, all aeons of unspoken pain would disappear. If he couldn't exist, everything would be better. But he can't, he has to live.

"If we are such a heavy burden to you why do you continue to protect us?" Yours is not a nasty question asked, it is rather a sweet worry distorted by insecurity.

His golden eyes return to immerse themselves in yours by instinct, without really wanting to.

"It's my duty, it's my ..." Xiao realizes he can't speak "But you're not ..." he tries again, but he can't.

He can't explain that knot blocking his throat and voice, which he can't spit or swallow.

It is my duty, my contract. But you are not a burden, you will never be.

His eyelids drop again and his head bows in chagrin. You are everything in front of him, and he is nothing in front of you.

"Don't look at me ..." is all he can tell you "You don't have to see me like that."

He was convinced that you didn't want to see him anymore, he was convinced that you wanted to forget him, but then why did your trembling hands rest so lovingly on his face?

"You are so beautiful Xiao." Your broken voice was asking him desperately to believe you, and he in front of your face now so close to him has no way to escape.

The misunderstandings between you two, the pain and the fear, no longer mattered.

Your arms gently encircle his chest and your head rests on his shoulder, without asking for permission, but he won't be the one to walk away, not now that he's found you.

"I'll get you dirty." He murmurs.

"It does not matter." You answer him softly.

You have no respect for the ways of the Adepti, but that is precisely why he needs you.

"Please be happy to live, Xiao."

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact #Xiao #genshin angst #angst/comfort #angst #genshin request #genshin oneshot

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battybatzgirl · 3 years

Text

Hey Mr. Sandman, You Missed a Spot

AO3

Summary:

It's not that Hunter doesn't ever sleep, Eda's come to realize. It was that he falls asleep sporadically, most of the time in really weird places.

Or: 5 times Eda catches Hunter taking a nap

Part 1 of the Finders Keepers Series

---

Here’s the thing about Eda: she loves naps. Eda likes to be cozy, so usually, that equated to curling up under a blanket, lazing around, and falling asleep. The Owl Beast shared that sentiment, the creature that lived within her constantly wanting to nest. Those animalistic instincts were weird, but when you lived in a house with a demon who also liked to bury himself under a pile of stuffed animals, you kind of got used to it.

Here’s the thing about Hunter: he doesn’t sleep.

The kid has been living with them for only about two weeks, officially replacing Eda as Public Enemy Numero Uno in the eyes of the Emperor. When he’d showed up on Hooty’s doorstep, all bloody and barely conscious, Eda thought it was some kind of cosmic trick. The Powers That Be had to be pulling her leg because this was the second time the leader of the Emperor’s Coven had shown up to the Owl House with nowhere else to go.

Luz had been ecstatic to welcome him in, apparently excited to finally fulfill her dreams of becoming a middle child in their weird little found family. King was less thrilled, but eventually warmed up to the idea of Hunter staying with them as long as he taught King his secrets on how to command an army.

Hunter himself even seemed unnerved at the thought of living with them. He tried to leave a few times when he was still wounded, but his little bird palisman (Rascal, she’s heard him say) effectively herded him back into the house by continuously dive-bombing him and nipping at his ears. And after Belos put out a wanted poster for the kid, making him the Isles’ number one most wanted traitor, leaving wasn’t really an option. Not if he wanted to stay alive.

So eventually, Hunter begrudgingly accepted that yeah, he lived in the Owl House now.

And alright, Eda isn’t heartless. The kid was lost, wounded, and an enemy of the Emperor. She can work with that.

Getting to know him has been a challenge, though. Hunter has a lot of weird quirks. He holds himself so seriously that Eda has a hard time remembering that he’s a teenager and not a fully grown middle-aged man. He hardly ever smiles. He’s jumpy, practically jolting out of his skin every time you walk into the same room. He’s clearly Going Through Some Shit, as Eda so eloquently calls it, remembering how Lily went through the same thing when she slowly broke free of Belos’s freaky subjugation.

But still. The kid doesn’t sleep.

Eda first notices it around day four of his residence. She’s up early to go to the market, stepping into the living room and nearly transforming into her Harpy Form out of pure shock when she sees a figure messing with her bookshelf in the back of the room. Wide maroon eyes lock on hers from across the room and she feels the feathers that sprung to her skin recede.

“Titan, kid,” she breaths, “You nearly killed me. What are you doing up? It’s Saturday, you should be sleeping in.”

“Um…I did sleep in,” Hunter responds, as if it’s obvious.

Eda feels a frown tug at her lips, “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

The kid just shrugs a little lamely, and Eda feels a twinge of concern in her chest. (And ugh, feeling concerned for a guy who dangled you over the Boiling Sea is certainly weird.) If this was sleeping in for him, he couldn’t have rested more than five hours.

She steps closer, taking a second look at what he’s doing. Half the books are spread out on the floor, the other half stacked neatly back on the shelves in some kind of order.

He notices her looking, “I, uh, took the liberty of reorganizing your bookshelf. Or organizing it, since it didn’t really seem to have a system.” The kid ducks his head, the tips of his ears flushing pink. “I- I can put it back the way it was if you want, or organize them in a different way.”

That’s another thing about Hunter: he always has to be doing something. Being useful. Without direction, he crumples. It was always, What do you want me to do now, Miss Clawthorne this and I completed this task, Miss Clawthorne, what’s next that. His brain operated on a transactional level—I do this thing for you, you do this thing for me. And since Eda was housing him, he felt like he had to constantly be doing things for her. Constantly proving himself worthy to be here, repaying her. Hunter couldn’t seem to wrap his head around that she didn’t want him to do anything except stay comfortable.

Eda has thought up a hundred different little tasks for him to do in just his first four days. She’s running out of odd jobs to give him, and if she has to keep telling him what to do she’s going to start pulling out her hair.

“You’re fine, kid,” she says. “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’ if it makes ya happy. But you shouldn’t be up this early. You should at least take a nap later.”

Hunter tilts his head. “But that wouldn’t be accomplishing anything.”

“You don’t hafta be working all the time,” Eda stresses. “It’s okay to sit around and just exist once and a while. Actually, I think that should be your priority. Take a nap, relax, go cloud watching, take a walk—any or all of the above.”

“That sounds like doing nothing.”

“That’s because it is doing nothing.”

His face hardens, taking on that soldier-like seriousness that encompasses his entire demeanor. “Being lazy can’t be a priority.”

“Don’t think of it like that, then,” Eda almost snaps, wishing for a nice hot mug of apple blood. It was too damn early to deal with the repercussions of Belos’s all-work-no-play mindset. “Think of it as acting your age. Did you ever get to take naps as a kid in the Emperor’s Coven? Is relaxing just a foreign concept to you?”

He doesn’t answer, staring at her with those bagged eyes and guarded expression, and Eda throws up her hands in defeat.

She leaves then, her patience running too thin to continue arguing with him. She doubts he’ll actually go back to sleep. He probably goes back to doing whatever he was doing with that bookshelf. Eda makes a mental note to tell King to knock all the books off, just so Hunter can reorganize it later. Just for something for him to keep him occupied.

Eda doesn’t even notice the first time it happens. It was one of Luz’s friends, Gus, who pointed it out.

The kids were gathered at her home after school, spread out on the floor of the living room along with various pillows and blankets. Luz found some card game she knew buried somewhere in the piles of human trash Eda has laying around, and the girl has been spending the better part of an hour trying to explain how it works.

“So the Wild Card doesn’t make you turn into a wild animal?” Willow questions, holding up a black card with looks like a colorful pie chart on it.

“Nope!” Luz says cheerfully. “It just becomes any color you want it to be to go with the rest of your hand.”

“But the card doesn’t actually change color?” Amity asks.

“No, it only represents the color,” Luz clarifies, and Eda has to admit, her girl has a ton of patience. She’s been quietly watching from her place on the couch, half-listening to their conversation, half-reading the Isles’ latest edition of You Gossipy Witch, a tabloid where a writer is speculating about her true form. Apparently, some people think she was raised by feral, wild owls on some far away barrier island, and has come to reside in Bonesborough just because she ran out of mutant rats to eat.

Weird.

But entertaining!

Gus holds up one of his cards, “So are blank cards bad, or—"

King jumps over his shoulder, landing on the deck of cards in the middle of their little circle and making them fly everywhere. “I have taken dominion over ALL YOUR CARDS. All of you must grovel for a taste of my wealth!”

“Actually, the point of the game is to get rid of all your cards,” Luz reminds him gently. “That way, when you get down to one card, you shout Uno! And you win! If no one else makes you draw anymore, that is.”

King deflates a little, apparently put off by the idea of less is more. “Oh.” Luz smiles and pats him on the head, and he brightens up. “Okay, let’s play, because I wanna make all of you draw as many cards as possible! You'll drown in your cards! Choke on them, even!”

As they start gathering up the cards that King threw everywhere, Gus lets out a little gasp. “You guys—is Hunter asleep?”

That immediately draws Eda’s attention away from the magazine. Her eyes flicker to the blond witch, laying on his stomach just on the edge of their group. He was still having a hard time socializing, especially with Amity, but Luz was determined to include him in all friendship activities. She said wanted to teach him how to be a kid, and hell, if anyone could knock some seriousness out of that boy it would be Luz.

Hunter is indeed asleep—his face is mushed into the forearms pillowed under his head, and his red palisman has weaseled its way to nestle in between the crook of his elbow. His breath comes out in soft little sighs, and Eda feels something in her melt.

“Awwww, he looks so peaceful,” Luz croons, mushing her palms against her cheeks. Amity’s already scooched past her, snapping photos on her scroll. Eda can’t blame her. She knows a good blackmail opportunity when she sees one.

Eda’s off the couch and catches King mid-pounce. “Whoa there, none of that buddy.”

“But Edaaaa,” the demon whines, his little arms and legs flailing in mid-air. “I have to conquer him when he least expects it!”

“Ehhh, let the kid sleep. Save your conquests for when he’s awake and can put up a fight.” Eda sets him down in his place in the circle, and the kids all glance at each other before turning back to the cards.

She notices that they’re more mindful to keep their tones softer, probably to not disturb the sleeping boy. And when Hunter wakes himself up about half an hour later, they don’t mention it, seamlessly integrating him back into their game.

The second time it happens, Raine is walking Eda home. It’s early in the evening, and the pair just got done with a fabulous date—a picnic with apple blood and sweet (and stolen) baked goods? Titan, take Eda now, she’s found her perfect match.

She’s still riding that high, not noticing Raine stopping until they tug on their clasped hands. “Hey, who’s that? Is he okay?”

Eda follows where they’re pointing their finger. It’s Hunter, slumped against the base of an oak tree, fast asleep. His chin is tipped forward and a book open on his chest, and even more strangely, there’s a small pile of leaves on his lap.

“Oh, that’s just my—” Eda stops herself, the word catching in her throat. Hunter was a child in her care, yes, but he wasn’t quite her kid. Not like Luz or King. The blond witch was still too jumpy, baring his teeth and snarling at anything that tried to get close to him.

He calls her Miss Clawthorne, for Titan’s sake.

“—Hunter,” Eda finishes lamely.

Raine raises an eyebrow. “Your Hunter?”

“He’s uhhh, one of Luz’s friends who just so happens to be living with us. Not a big thing.”

Raine shoots her a deadpan look but strides forward anyway, kneeling next to the sleeping blond. They keep their voice to a low murmur, “Should we wake him? That can’t be comfortable for his neck. He’ll probably be sore later.”

“Eh, let him rest. This is more sleep than he usually gets.” Eda steps closer, kneeling down on his other side. It’s the side that has his scar, the slightly raised red tissue standing out even more so than usual now that he wasn’t constantly moving. She’s almost asked him how he got it, but he’s clearly sensitive about the subject. She’s seen the similar marks on his arms, and something tells her there are a whole lot more scars that he’s hiding.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who gave them to him.

Still, it’s hard to ignore just how young he looks. When he’s stripped of all of his snappy comebacks, quick defenses, and that guarded demeanor Belos forced onto him, he’s reduced to exactly what he should be:

A kid.

“Oh!” Raine startles in surprise. Eda looks up to see the cardinal palisman fluttering down from above them, carrying a few leaves in its beak. It hops down onto Hunter’s lap and deposits the leaves in the little growing pile on his leg.

A smile worms its way onto Eda’s face. She runs a finger across the little bird’s head, “Trying to keep him warm, huh?” The bird lets out a trilling note of confirmation. She lets the bird be, turning back to Raine, “I think Rascal’s got this covered. If he hasn’t come in before nightfall I’ll come out and get ‘em.”

The bard casts one last glance down at the sleeping boy before they stand. “Y’know, he kind of reminds me of someone.”

“Oh yeah?” Eda weaves her arm through Raine’s as the pair reassumes their walk.

“Yeah,” Raine hums. “He kind of has the same build as someone I met when I was held hostage in the Emperor’s palace. The Golden Guard. Did you hear that he ran away from the palace? There've been rumors that the Emperor himself is tearing apart the Right Arm looking for him.”

“Uh, about that...”

Raine stops, turning to look at her square in the face. Eda gives them a sheepish, toothy grin.

“Oh my god,” Raine says. “You adopted the Golden Guard?”

“Hey now, adopted is a very strong word—”

The bard cuts her off with a delighted laugh. “How am I not surprised?” Eda feels heat rise to her face, but can’t help but return Raine’s infectious smile. “Only you, Eda. Only you.”

The third time it happens, Eda’s passing through the upstairs hallway, intent on curling up into her nest for an afternoon nap of her own. She hears a shuffling noise as she passes by the glorified storage closet that they gave Hunter as a room, and can’t resist a peek inside.

What she finds is definitely…not what she was expecting. Hunter is laying flat on his back on the floor, his feet elevated on the little cot they’d given him. Yeesh, that couldn’t be comfortable. Soft snores woosh past his open lips, his face turned toward a crystal ball that’s playing some cartoon he must have been watching before he fell asleep.

His body is nearly covered in stuffed animals.

“King,” Eda hisses. The horned perpetrator is in the middle of dumping his entire army onto the blond witch’s chest, pinning down his arms with plushies. “What did I tell you about burying people alive?”

The demon pauses from where he’s been slowly arranging his army over Hunter’s sleeping form. “He’s got plenty of room to breathe! I didn’t cover his face,” King protests. “Can’t subjugate someone who’s dead.”

“No subjugating—” your brother, she almost says, “—Hunter.”

King squints at her, but then grumbles and starts slowly taking the stuffed animals off the boy’s body. Crisis averted, Eda slips back out into the hall, mind swirling. That was the second time she’d almost referred to Hunter as hers in passing. The feeling is too raw to speak out loud yet, but there’s a growing warmth in her as she watches Hunter acclimate to his surroundings in the Owl House. With every day that goes by, he’s more comfortable around her, around Luz and King and Hooty, and he’s starting to come out of his shell. He’s growing softer, less quick to snarl, becoming more Hunter and less Golden Guard.

Unconsciously, Eda’s started viewing him as part of their little family. Two weeks ago, that thought would have made her uncomfortable. Now, she welcomes it with open arms.

Ugh, she’s getting so soft.

The fourth time it happens is when Eda’s flying home from visiting Lilith. She’s only been gone for the day, and is hoping that leaving Luz in charge hasn’t led to any freak fires, the resurrection of the dead, or other various natural disasters. Unfortunately, even her most responsible kid is pretty reckless, so Eda’s expectations are set pretty low.

It’s probably sometime around 2 a.m. when she makes it home sweet home. She swoops in close, intent on landing on the front door but stilling mid-air when she sees something on the roof of the tower. Even from up here, it’s not hard to distinguish the form of a looming body.

Eda’s heart leaps into her throat and she takes Owlbert down into a dive. Her body is tense when she lands, her staff already aimed toward the person lurking by the edge of the roof. “Alright listen bucko, you better step back or—wait.” She sees what looks like a lump of feathers sitting on top of the person’s head, and Eda squints in the darkness. She quickly pulls out a light glyph, sending the tiny ball of sun forward.

“Hunter?!” Eda’s tense posture relaxes. The kid doesn’t answer, and it takes her a beat to figure out why. He’s dead asleep, slumped precariously over the telescope they use for stargazing. Eda has no idea how he’s even standing at all. Kid probably had a ton of practice of falling asleep on his feet during long, boring meetings with the Emperor.

“Wakey, wakey.” She places her hand on his shoulder, gently, but he wakes up with a full-body jerk, startling the palisman on top of his head. The cardinal chirps once in irritation, fluttering to rest on Eda’s shoulder instead.

Hunter’s eyes are wild for a moment until he seems to register where he is and who he’s with. He relaxes then, letting out a yawn so huge it would put any lion to shame. “…Eda?”

“The one and only,” Eda says, ignoring how her heart squeezes at the kid finally calling her by her name. “Wanna tell me why you’re up here in the middle of the night?”

“Waitin’ for you,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. His eyelids drop and he sways dangerously on his feet. “Wanted to… t’make sure y’got home safe.”

The warmth in her chest expands and eclipses her entire body in that fuzzy feeling she gets whenever one of her kids does something particularly adorable. Thank Titan it’s dark and Hunter is too out of it to notice the smile that spreads across her face. If he was fully awake, Eda gets the feeling that A) he probably never would have admitted that he was worried about her, and B) would have snapped at her for smiling at him like that. “Well, I’m home now, so let’s get you to bed before you topple over.”

Eda wraps her arm around his waist and nudges him along, practically carrying him back downstairs, their palismen following close behind. She doesn’t mind. Someone had to make sure he didn’t fall off the roof.

“Night, kid,” she says, tucking him under the blankets on his cot. Hunter doesn’t respond, already having slipped back into unconsciousness. And if she brushes his bangs tenderly out of his face, no one ever has to be the wiser.

The fifth time it happens, Eda’s gotten used to it. It's not that Hunter doesn’t sleep, she’s come to realize. He just falls asleep in weird places. Why, she has no idea, but honestly, the kid looked so tired all the time, she wasn’t going to question it. They had bigger things to worry about.

The Day of Unity is just around the corner, and Belos has become more irritating than ever.

Eda hadn’t even thought that was possible for him, but apparently, it was. The scouts around Bonesborough have tripled, their captains leading more and more raids, butting into shops to check everyone’s papers, and invading random districts.

Oddly, Belos’s priorities seem to have shifted. He’s still sending out grunts to round up any wild witches, but the guards have been playing a weird sort of hide-and-seek, going beyond just patrolling the marketplaces to actually tearing into people’s homes. From what she’s heard, the guards never take anything, just searching the place top-to-bottom before leaving empty-handed and moving on to the next house.

Belos was looking for something.

And unfortunately, Eda’s got a pretty good idea of what he’s after.

Said thing just so happens to be slumped across from her at the kitchen table, dead to the world. It’s late into the night, and most of the kids have already gone to sleep. Too on edge to lie down, Eda’s been keeping herself busy by concocting more potions while the late-night news plays on her crystal ball in the background.

Hunter, striving to be helpful, volunteered to stay up and help.

It wasn’t long before the kid slowly started to nod off, face supported by his palm as his eyelids started to droop. He’d been in the middle of mixing two ingredients—highly flammable ingredients, mind you—and Eda plucked the vials out of his lax grip just in time. Honestly, it was a miracle the kid never killed himself in the Emperor’s Coven with how randomly he falls asleep.

He probably never got the chance to sleep at all, a voice reminds her. She remembers how dead-exhausted Lily was during her first few days at the Owl House. It was probably safe to assume that the Emperor had a habit of running the head of his Coven into the ground.

Hunter has been picking up on Belos’s tightening grip, too. He’s been getting quieter, more reserved. He’s come to the same conclusion that Eda has: the Emperor was tearing apart the whole of the Isles to get him back.

Why, though, is anyone’s guess. Hunter has long since explained that his uncle always said that the Titan had big plans for him, and it probably has something to do with the Day of Unity, but beyond that, the Emperor had always kept him in the dark. Luz has a crazy theory involving clones and blood magic, but that sounds like it’s a plot point straight out of one of her Azura books. King thinks Belos wants his artificial staff back, and Hooty predicts the Emperor is just sad because all his Coven leaders are leaving him to join Hooty’s superior best friends club.

Whatever the reason, Eda’s made it pretty clear that she’s not gonna bend to Belos’s intimidation tactics and turn him over. That smarmy gold jerk could set the whole Isles on fire and Eda still wouldn’t hand him over. Hunter’s part of the Bad Girl’s Coven now, and Belos can just suck it. And she’s not afraid to say that to his stupid face, either.

So when the cauldron at the end of the table that holds the scrying potion suddenly begins bubbling on its own, Eda may very well get her chance.

She’s up on her feet in an instant, dashing to the other end of the table just as the steam rising off the potion begins to warp into a familiar figure.

“Edalyn,” Belos greets, his voice sharp like a dagger. “I do hope I’m not interrupting your evening, but I needed a word with you.”

Ugh, scrying potions weren’t supposed to work both ways! Belos was too damn powerful. He could probably peer into their lives as much as they could peer into his.

“Sorry, but now’s a bad time,” Eda shoots back. “Why don’t you hang up and call back literally never?”

“It’s come to my attention that you have something of mine,” the masked man continues smoothly as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’d ever so appreciate it if you gave it back.”

Eda’s lip curls back, feeling the itch of feathers poking out of her joints. She wants to shift into her harpy form and leap through the potion to claw out his eyes. “Sorry, Belos,” she says, dripping smug bravado, “We wild witches operate solely under the laws of finders keepers. Your kid? Mine now.”

Eda expects that the Emperor would very much like to vaporize her. “Make your threats wisely, Owl Lady. You have no idea what you’re up against. Everything will be easier for you and your little friends if you just hand the boy back over to me.”

“Fat chance.” Eda throws back her shoulders and shoots him a sharp grin. “Sounds to me like you’re threatening one of my kids, and we weirdos stick together. Going after one of us is basically asking for all of us to bring you down. Remember how well that went last time? How my human cracked your mask and publicly humiliated you during your big let’s-turn-Eda-to-stone ceremony?”

The Emperor looks as though he has some choice words to say, but Eda doesn’t care. Hunter is her kid now. She glowers at him through that mist, voice lowering in with deadly promise. “You’ll have to drag him back to your Coven over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” sneers Belos.

“Try me, antler boy.” Then Eda whacks the cauldron and sends it tipping over the edge of the table. The connection is immediately severed as the potion goes splattering over the hardwood, and the resounding CLANG of the bowl makes Hunter shoot violently out of sleep.

“Huh?! Whassit—Eda? What happened? Are you alright?”

“Fine, kid,” she says, swallowing down the rage that’s still bubbling hot in her throat. “’S alright, just got a little clumsy and knocked over a cauldron. Sorry for waking you.”

“Sorry for falling asleep,” Hunter responds. He grabs a towel and hurries to clean up the oozing purple goo.

Eda waves him off, “Eh, I don’t mind. You kids need your rest. Growing bodies and all that.”

Hunter still hesitates, looking at her for a beat too long as if double-checking to make sure she wasn’t really upset. Eda holds back a sigh, a twinge of pity flickering through her that he’d even have to look at her like that in the first place. All the damage from Belos couldn’t be wrapped up in a month, she supposed.

She snatches up the cauldron, still dripping with the ruined potion. Peachy. She’ll have to call Lilith to get her scrying potion recipe. Though maybe not having this in the house was a good idea. Eda doesn’t want to risk His Royal Highness dropping in on any more unexpected house calls.

“Eda?”

She looks up at Hunter. The kid chewing on his bottom lip, wringing the half-soiled towel between scarred hands.

“I just…I wanted to say thank you,” Hunter says shyly. “I know having me here hasn’t exactly been easy—not only because of the fugitive thing, but because I’m…” He flounders for a moment, and Eda can only pretend to know what’s going through his mind right now. “…me,” he finishes finally. “You’ve been so kind and patient with me, it’s so much more than I deserve, and no matter what happens next—”

“Hey, no.” Eda cuts him off with a swift and gentle beratement. She sets the cauldron on the table and crowds closer to him, curling one hand around his cheek. The kid automatically leans into the touch, and Eda can’t help but wonder how Belos could have ever hurt a child who was as sweet as this one.

“You may be one bratty little shit, but you’re my bratty little shit. And Mama says you deserve all the smothering that comes with being a child of the Owl Lady.”

Then, to prove her point, she swoops down and quickly places feather-light kisses on the tip of his nose, forehead, and his scar, until Hunter squawks and shoves her away. He’s practically glowing, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Gross,” he snaps, rubbing furiously at his face. “I’m never helping you with your potions ever again.”

“I’ll accept your terms. Now get upstairs, it’s way past your bedtime.”

“I don’t have a bedtime, I’m not a baby.” Hunter sticks out his tongue but obeys, slipping out of the kitchen and disappearing into the rest of the house. Eda shakes her head as she watches him go.

Kids. What could ya do with ‘em?

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

Remember us - part 3

Here we are with part 3.

This was a tough chapter to write.

Please do not hate Rowan, he is confused and scared and what is happening to him is scary.

-------

A slow tune played in the distance of the big garden.

Rowan took Aelin’s hand and walked away from the big crowd and near the bank of the lake where it was just the two of them.

“Did you drag me here to kill me?”

Rowan in response kissed her and Aelin could not read his expression. His arms went around her frame and pulled her closer for a slow dance on the spot.

His hand brushed her back and let her scent envelope him.

“Lys and Aedion look happy.” He whispered to her, enjoying the feeling of her in his arms. A presence he would never tire of.

“It was about time.” Aelin said kissing his chest.

“It’s our turn to be that happy, what do you think?” Rowan went down on one knee and gently grabbed her hand pulling it to his chest “Fireheart, I love you. You are my best friend, my soulmate and I want to walk the path of life at your side. I want to grow old with you and still watch silly movies on the sofa. Aelin Galathynius, will you do me the honour of marrying me and let me call you my wife?”

The smile on Aelin’s face became radiant “Yes,” a kiss on his lips “yes, buzzard, I will marry you.”

Rowan woke up panting hard. The memory had been very vivid and clear in his head. The colours, the smells, he felt as if he had been there. Aelin had told him about that memory, about the day he had proposed to her at a friend’s wedding.

The memory had felt so real and his hands were now shaking.

It had been a week since that conversation. Aelin had started visiting him on her way to work and sometimes during her breaks as well. They had been chatting and she had been telling more about their lives and answered all the questions he had. The topic he hadn’t had yet the courage to cover was the one about her being pregnant. He felt bad for snooping on the phone but that was his anyway and Aelin had given it to him with that exact intention. For him to read and discover more about who he had been and hopefully unlock more moments.

He was busy with his thoughts that he did nor notice a male nurse popping into his room.

“Time to go.”

The doctor had told him that now that he was awake it was time to finally start his rehab and to try have him walking again quite quickly.

The nurse helped him to shift onto the wheelchair and pushed him out.

“Can someone tell Aelin where I am gone? Sometimes she comes and visit on her break.”

“I am sure nurse Ytger will tell your wife that you went for physio.”

He had started to enjoy and wait eagerly for her visits. He wanted to tell her abut the flash of the day he proposed.

They finally arrived at the gym and a man was waiting for him “Hello Rowan and welcome to hell.” Said the man in front of him “You’ll probably will want to kill me after every session but I assure you I will make you walk again. I always do.” The man said quite smugly “my name is Dorian, by the way.”

For a half an hour Dorian massaged and warmed up and loosened his right leg. Every time he bent his knee Rowan was ready to cry. Until the man got him back on the wheelchair and they reached some parallel bars “now, we try walking.”

Rowan looked at him in disbelief. He could not be serious.

“Come on, hold on to the bars with your hands and pull yourself upright.”

He followed the directions and pulled himself up.

“Good. Now try to move a step.”

Rowan tried but almost fell on his face if it wasn’t that Dorian grabbed him “don’t put weight on the injured leg yet.”

He was about to try again when he spotted Aelin in her blue scrubs entering the gym. Dorian saw her as well “are you going to look good in front of your wife?”

Aelin joined him “Hi devil.” She greeted Dorian.

“Hi my darling. Your hubby and I just started.”

“Just go easy on him. I just got him back.” And Rowan saw Aelin give him a warm smile. He needed to tell her about his dream. He wanted to revive that day with her, to know how she felt. She had looked happy in the memory. Rowan was also curious to know why she called him buzzard.

For another good hour he did all Dorian told him and by the end of the first session he did manage to walk once the length on the walking bars. Aelin had given him the most stunning smile.

They were now back in his room and she was helping him climb back in bed.

“You must be exhausted. Dorian’s sessions are tough, but the man does miracles.”

“My leg hurts…” he said fully leaning back in bed in a seated position.

“I should let you rest.” Aelin made a move to leave but he stopped her, grabbing her hand for a fleeting moment “stay, please.”

Aelin nodded and sat back down on the chair. He noticed her hand gently move to her stomach in a protective gesture.

“I had a dream.” He told her and saw his wife turn her head to him “it was the day I proposed. You had a green dress and we were at Lys and Aedion’s wedding.” He continued and saw her face break and try to hold back the tears “you called me buzzard.”

Aelin started sobbing. It was just one memory. It was not their entire life but it was something. She nodded eagerly and restrained herself from the desire to kiss him. She missed the contact with him.

“It’s my nickname for you. You hover, like a bird of prey. I have been calling you like that since the beginnings.”

He smiled and decided to tackle the more pressing question he had for her, his heart started racing. He had found out from the phone and not from her. He took a deep breath “I know…” he whispered and she looked up at him with curiosity “I was going through the text messages we exchanged and I found the one where you sent me a picture of our baby.”

Aelin gasped “I didn’t tell you because it would have been too much and you already have enough to deal with.” She was trying to protect him. She had been dying to tell him but for a moment she had put her desires aside and thought about him, how he would react at the news.

“How far along are you?”

“12 weeks. I am just at the end of my first trimester.” And he saw her lift her scrub and could see the slight hint of a bump “peanut, this is dad. Dad, this is peanut.”

Rowan sighed heavily “what if…” how could he explain his fears to her without crushing her? “What if the person I become is not the husband you remember? I don’t know when I will get my memories back. And when I do? Will it still be me or a brand new person with some jumbled up memories? What if you realise you can’t live with a version of me that is just a bad copy of the original?” He was terrified at the idea.

“To whatever end.” She whispered “that’s the promise we shared on our wedding day. We will go through life together no matter what. Together.” Aelin sniffled loudly “we already went through a lot in seven years of marriage. Two miscarriages that shook us to the core. But we survived. Our marriage survived.” She took his hand feeling the need to a contact with him to dispel the fears in her heart “we will survive this as well.” She was now sobbing and Rowan had no idea how to console her. He had grabbed her hand briefly but still did not feel comfortable enough for contact with her.

“Sorry, it’s the hormones.”

“Aelin, you should move on. Find someone—” but Aelin did not let him finish “Rowan Whitethorn, please tell me you have not just suggested me to leave you.” She stood and shouted at him furious that he could even think about something so outrageous.

“I am not leaving you for another man. You are my husband.” She felt anger rising at the idea he might suggest such thing. It broke her heart that he would give up like that.

“What if I don’t want to be your husband? Have you thought about me? I am trapped in a life I don’t recognise.” His tone matched hers and at his words Aelin felt her heart break. She took a step away from him.

“You come here and tell me all those thing about our life. Am I supposed to accept them without question and jump back in my old life?”

She did not answer him. Aelin just ran out of the room, heavy tears streaming down her cheeks. And when nausea hit she ran for the toilets and emptied her stomach.

She sat on the floor for a time that felt endless until she got paged and had to force herself to go back to work.

***

Rowan closed his eyes and he collapsed back on the pillow. His soul ached at the words he had said to Aelin. Why did he tell her something he did not believe himself? He was confused and utterly overwhelmed. He had so many questions and he had reacted in the worst possible way. But he was scared of not being able to be enough for her, to transform into a copy she might not like. They had kids to think about too. What if he was going to destroy a family? They deserved better than him.

Waking up and not remembering anything of his life had been terrifying. But that woman, his wife, was willing to take him back no matter what. She was ready to show him a way to find himself again.

He took his mobile and texted her as soon as he figured out how to do it I am sorry for what I said. I am really scared.

Rowan placed the phone on the nightstand and lay down. He felt exhausted and when he closed his eyes, sleep caught him in his arms.

***

Rowan was standing in front of a crowd. He was in what looked like a ballroom inside and old building. The guests were all dressed up nicely and so was he. At his side there was a blonde man grinning happily.

As soon as the music started he turned his head and saw two dark-haired women entering the venue and slowly proceed along the aisle in his direction. His gazed drifted away from them as soon as he spotted Aelin at the entrance. She was dressed in the most amazing light blue dress and she looked stunning. He felt like the luckiest man alive. Aelin had chosen him.

She stopped in front of him and he mouthed the words I love you to her. The officiant proceeded with the ceremony until it was time to exchange their vows and he went first.

“Aelin, my heart, once we set our hate aside you became my best friend and then my soulmate and soon I will be able to call you my wife as well. I am ready to face this new adventure together and stay at your side, no matter what. To whatever end, fireheart.”

By the time he finished she was in tears and it took her a moment to compose herself.

“Rowan, my buzzard, life can be unpredictable and cruel, but as long as I have you at my side I know I can survive anything. You are my rock. I am looking forward to our new adventure together. I love you, to whatever end.”

Rowan kissed her not even waiting for the right moment.

“Rowan Whitethorn, do you take Aelin Galathynius as you wife. Promise to respect her and cherish the time you will have together? To love her for better for worse, in sickness and in health till death do you part?”

“I do.” Said Rowan never averting his green eyes from her.

“Aelin Galathynius, do you take Rowan Whitethorn as your husband and promise to walk the path of life at his side. To love him for better or for worse, in sickness and in health till death do you part?”

“I do.” Tears of joy streamed down her face.

A moment later the scent of flowers had gone and Rowan awoke abruptly and the smell of disinfectant hit him.

He had been dreaming again. Their wedding apparently. They had been so happy and he could not remove from his mind Aelin’s stunning smile.

Frantically he grabbed his phone and sadness hit him when he noticed there was no answer from Aelin.

What had he done?

***

That night when Aelin got back home she looked for comfort in her mother’s arms first. She had told her all that happened at the hospital and Rowan’s words. Evalin had let her cry until she was spent.

When bed time came she went for her bedroom and found her bed already occupied by her two terrors. She changed in her pyjama and climbed in bed. Gently she pulled Freyja to her chest and inhaled deeply her scent. As if on instinct, just like his father, Thomas adjusted and moved to her snuggling closer. A pair of green eyes set on her “go back to sleep my love.” She kissed his blonde hair.

“I miss dad.” He said moving even closer and Aelin wrapped her arms around her two children “I miss him too, Tom.”

“When is he coming back?”

“Soon.” She brushed his hair “now sleep, okay?”

“I love you, mum.”

Aelin barely stopped the tears “I love you too.”

She closed her eyes and cried herself to sleep.

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oikawaplssteponme · 3 years

Text

roses in your sweater

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem! reader

genre: angst, aged up characters

warnings: swearing, breakup, brief mention of blood, make-out session, a little suggestive, emotional breakdown (?)

word count: 2,446 words

synopsis: As you fell deeper into love, he fell farther out. Bakugou never wanted to hurt you, but he knew he was going to have to. One last night together and then it’s over, no matter what.

a/n: please reblog :)) as always, id love to hear your thoughts as well <3

He loves me.

He loves me not.

He loves me.

He loves me not.

He loves me.

You picked the petals off of the rose carefully, allowing them to fall to the grass below you. You sat on the biggest branch of the largest tree in the park, humming along to the sound of birds chirping. You held onto the stem of the rose, right in between two of its thorns.

He loves me not.

The last rose petal fell to the ground. You tilted you head, chuckling to yourself. What a silly game it was, believing that some pattern will prove if he loved you. You knew he loved you. It was just a silly flower.

You stared at the stem. You counted the thorns Twenty-three.

“Hey Y/N, get down!”

You looked down at your boyfriend, who stared up at you. You smiled.

“Why don’t you come up here instead?”

“I’m not climbing a damn tree. Get down, I have your boba.”

Bakugou showed you the drink, shaking it a bit. You began to make your way down the tree, standing in front of him.

“Thank you Katsuki,” you cheered. Bakugou patted the top of your head.

“Shit, your finger,” he said. You raised a brow, and looked at your finger. A small cut cross the tip of it.

“Oh I must’ve cut myself on the rose thorn,” you explained. Bakugou took your hand, sucking the stray blood from your finger, then giving you a smirk.

“I dont get why you like roses so much. They’re mainly thorns.”

“I think they’re pretty.”

“Well I think roses just trick you into thinking they’re pretty so that you pick them. After all, you picked all the petals so now it’s just the ugly thorns.”

“Maybe I like the thorns.”

“Only you would. Come on dumbass, let’s go home.”

Bakugou dimmed the lights of your bedroom then he made his way over to you. You grabbed the covers of the bed and pulled them down before climbing in. You laid down and shuffled over to where Bakugou now laid as well . You rested your head onto his chest as he dragged his finger up and down your side.

“Keep doing that,” you whispered. Bakugou chuckled.

“Sure baby.”

Bakugou kissed your head softly. He watched as you soon drifted to sleep. How beautiful you looked when dreams ran through your mind. How your lips curled ever so slightly, making it look like you were smiling. He wondered if you dreamed of him. If you dreamed up the perfect version of him in your head. He hoped you didn’t. He almost wished you wouldn’t dream of him at all.

“Katsuki, baby, I packed your lunch!” You said, hoping he would hear you from the bathroom.

Katsuki ran his head under the cold water, forehead pressed against the wall. He had heard you loud and clear, yet didn’t reply. He shampooed his hair for the third time, desperately trying to kill time.

You set his lunch down on the counter then filled his travel mug with his tea. You smiled. You packed everything just how he liked it, even put a small note in the lunch to hopefully cheer him up after long hours at his agency.

Bakugou wiped down the mirror, allowing him to stare at his reflection. He had to stop himself from breaking the glass with his fist, so frustrated with himself.

I have to tell her.

Tonight.

I’ll tell her tonight.

Bakugou knew deep down that when that moment came, he wouldn’t take it. He knew he couldn’t bare to see the look on your face he he would have to snap your heart in two, but he also knew he had to. Snap it like a twig. As if it were nothing.

Bakugou dried himself off and got dressed. He packed up his Hero costume in his bag and went out to meet you in the kitchen.

“Morning love,” you smiled. You leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Sorry babe I’m running a bit late. I won’t be home until late so don’t wait for me, okay?” Bakugou grabbed his lunch and tea, making his way to the door.

“Oh okay. Have a good day, I love you.”

“Bye baby.”

Bakugou shut the door behind him. You sighed. He would often forget to say ‘I love you’ back but you tried not to think too much about it. You knew he loved you.

While Bakugou was away, you would organize your sweet little home, get your own work done, and wait for him to get back. Working from home was nice, but you often wondered what he was up to. You knew he was saving the world, which put a smile on your face. How lucky were you to be dating a Pro-Hero, and one like Bakugou. Oh how you loved him. You loved him so much. You would daydream of a life with Bakugou, grander than the one you already had. One where tiny footsteps would roam your halls. One where you would have the suffix ‘Mrs.’ before your now changed name. You loved to think of that kind of future, and hoped that he would ask you soon.

“How’s Y/N?” asked Kirishima through the phone. Bakugou scratched his head.

“Uh s-she’s good. Yeah, she’s good.”

“Just good? Everything okay with you two?”

Bakugou clicked the pen in his hand a few times and tapped his foot.

“Look man I don’t know what I’m gonna do. All I know is that I can’t do it anymore...” he admitted. The other line went silent for a moment.

“Just be honest with yourself and her. She’ll understand,” suggested Kiri. Bakugou shook his head.

“No no I can’t. I don’t want to hurt her but I-I just...I have a feeling that I’m gonna have to.”

“Do you love her man?”

“I did...”

“Then you gotta come to terms with it. You can’t force yourself to be happy for her. That’s just unfair.”

Bakugou threw the pen to the ground and got up from his chair. He began to pace around the room.

“I just-GOD- I wish I did. I really wish I did...”

You stared up at your ceiling fan, watching the blades rotate in a circular motion. You couldn’t sleep. You had a horrible pit in your stomach, but couldn’t pinpoint why.

Bakugou carefully turned his key to open the door. He held his breath hoping not to make a single sound. He would be silent. He would simply pack a bag, write a note, and leave exactly from where he came.

You tossed and turned in your bed as you tried to find a comfortable position. You sighed and sat up. Maybe a glass of cold water would help.

Bakugou grabbed his laundry from the basket in the living room. He began to fold the clothes that you had washed earlier for him. He carefully folded them one by one. He stared at one article of clothing. It was an old sweater. It was his but you wore it more than he did, claiming it reminded you of him. He sighed, leaving that sweater in the basket.

You rubbed your eyes, placing your hand on the door knob. Bakugou stiffened up. You yawned and walked to the kitchen. You spotted him in the corner of your eye.

“I didn’t hear you come home,” you whispered. Bakugou chuckled nervously.

“Y-Yeah I just got here a couple minutes ago...”

You looked over at Bakugou with the Landry basket.

“Why are you folding clothes at two-thirty in the morning?” You questioned. Bakugou sighed.

“Y/N come here please.”

You took a gulp of your water before setting it down. You went over to the couch to join Katsuki.

“Can’t this wait until the morning?” You yawned. He shook his head.

“No it can’t. Y/N I have to talk to you about something important.”

Your eyes widened.

“Okay. I’m listening.”

Bakugou took your hands with his. His palms were sweaty. He locked eyes with you.

“Listen there’s-uh- there’s no easy way to say this but...Y/N I’m breaking up with you.”

Your expression didn’t change, which worried Bakugou even more. You just stared at him. You stared straight at him until an ocean began to fall from your eyes. Your tears could’ve filled up the entire room. Bakugou squeezed onto your hands.

“Look baby you didn’t do anything wrong, trust me. I just...fuck... I just don’t feel the same way towards you that you do for me and I’m sorry. I really wish I did. But I can’t force myself to stay. That isn’t fair to either of us.”

Your breathing grew heavier as your entire world fell apart before you. Your head fell down into Bakugou’s lap, muffling your sobs. He looked up at the ceiling, holding back his own tears. He hated himself at this moment. He hated himself more than ever before. He would do anything to love you, but he didn’t.

“I’m sorry baby...I’m sorry...”

Your cries probably woke up your neighbors. How your sobbing didn’t cease. You felt as though a million arrows had just shot into your back. Thorns after thorns piercing your skin. You take it back. You don’t like the thorns.

You looked up at Bakugou. Your lips quivering.

“I’m gonna pack a bag and spend the night at Kiri-“

“No, god, please no...” you cried. You wrapped your arms around his torso, now sobbing into his chest. Bakugou huffed. He held the back of your head gently.

“C-Can you please just spend one last night with me. Please...”

“Y/N that’s not a good idea...”

You sniffled a little harder, gripping onto his shirt.

“J-Just one last night with me please...”

Katsuki kissed the top of your head.

“Okay.”

You and Bakugou walked back into the bedroom. He changed into just a pair of shorts, as he did every night. It was as if nothing was different. He dimmed the lights, you pulled down the covers, and the two of you climbed into bed. You didn’t lay down, keeping your back against the bed frame. Bakugou was seated the same.

“K-Katsuki?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you please kiss me? Just one last time?” You whispered. Bakugou sniffled.

“Yeah.”

You looked over at him, tears still streaming down your face. You moved to sit onto his lap. Bakugou placed his hand on your cheek, wiping away the tears though more still poured.

“I’m sorry.”

Bakugou leaned in to kiss you. Your shaky lips tried their best to savor this moment. You knew this was it. This was the last time you would ever share a bed with him. Ever share a home with him. Ever kiss him.

You tangled your hands into his blond hair, pulling him closer to you. His hands traveled up your shirt, memorizing the skin he touched. Maybe this was all just an attempt to see if Bakugou could gain those feelings back for you. Maybe he said yes just for the hope that he would kiss you, and remember why he fell in love with you in the first place. Unfortunately for the both of you, he didn’t. He kissed you and felt nothing. Similar to a black hole in space, Katsuki Bakugou felt empty towards you, no matter how badly he wanted to feel otherwise.

You cried as you kissed him. Both of your tears mixing into one pool. You knew that if you pulled away, that would be it. No more. You were scared to stop, so he stopped for you.

Bakugou turned to the side, making his lips depart from yours. He moved his hands to his side, and pressed his lips together. That was it.

You moved back to your regular spot in bed, pulling the covers over you. You sniffled again.

“Goodnight.”

Bakugou looked over at you to see if you were asleep. He saw your chest rise and fall with your shallow breaths. He brought his fist to his mouth, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. He went over to his closet, grabbing and packing his clothes. Next, his drawers. He packed up everything he owned, placing it all in just a few bags. He went out to the living room, seeing the now empty laundry basket. Well, almost empty. Bakugou grabbed the remaining sweater and brought it to your room. He set it down on his side of the bed, which he made. He took another deep breath.

“I-I-”

He almost said it, but that would’ve been unfair. He would’ve lied. So, he instead grabbed his bags, kissed the top of your head, and walked out the door.

You heard the door shut, as it woke you up. You sprung up from your bed, scanning the room around you. You looked over to your side to see that Bakugou’s side of the bed was perfectly made, and that he had left you something. You cupped your hand over your mouth, shaking your head. You didn’t want to cry this early in the morning but it was already too late. Once you realized what he has left you, it was too late.

With a shaky hand you grabbed the sweater and unfolded it. You held it in front of you. You buried your face in it. You cried. You screamed into the sweater. You screamed so loud, Bakugou heard you from outside. He climbed into his car anyway

You gripped onto the sweater, sobbing uncontrollably. The navy fabric now stained black from your tears. You held it up in front of you again, seeing the tear marks. You put the sweater on.

The reason you loved that specific sweater so much was because of how soft it was. Warm and fuzzy, giving you a hug when Bakugou couldn’t. Now, the sweater felt rough. It was almost as if the fabric inside pricked you. It was stabbing you, making your skin crawl. It was as if the sweater was made of a million tiny thorns, when it once was as soft as a rose petal.

You ripped the sweater off, throwing it to the ground. You rubbed your arms, wishing that uncomfortable feeling would go away. You wished this would all just go away.

You splashed cold water onto your face from your kitchen sink. You patted your face dry and looked to your kitchen table. Your flowers had died. Only one wilted rose remained, with only one petal left. You walked over to it, picking it off and throwing the petal in the garbage, where the rest of your love went.

He loves me not.

•

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