#the end of the day. he's human but he's also not he's far beyond what could be considered a normal human but he still just is.

[onepieceoftheoceanblues]

Batfam X One Piece Crossover AU

Someone mentioned this sort of au and I went Insane a bit ^-^' hope you guys enjoy!

Okay so a Batfam in the One Piece world au and how I think it would work/go;

I imagine the Batfam were whammied into an entirely new dimension while on patrol so we have the full costumed roster (but not the full extended clan cuz that's so many people lol) so we have Bruce/Batman, Dick/Nightwing, Jason/Red Hood, Tim/Red Robbin, Damian/Robin, Cass/Black Bat, Stephanie/Batgirl (you can pry Steph still being batgirl out of my cold dead hands), and Duke/Signal.

The First thing they do is figure out where they are, an island in something called the ___ blue (idk which they should be in lol, but it's best if they start in a blue I think), and are very obviously not in their world. (I'm gonna say for the sake of Plot either One Piece doesn't exist in their world or none of them have watched/read it because that would be too easy lol)

Ofc the second thing they do is try to find a way home and gather info but uh, they quickly realize this world doesn't have the best tech around to build something to take them home, and places/people they can get to would be either hard to find or in a place that's very dangerous to get to (Vegapunk is their best bet but... not really an option for right away due to mentioned reasons).

They think of asking this "World Government" for help for all of two seconds, before finding out how fucking awful and corrupt the whole system this world has and nixes that idea right in the bud. They're Vigilantes for a reason, after all, and know corruption in governments very well. So honestly, their best bet is either trying to go along and find someone that can help and materials, or waiting for their people from their world to come and get them.

(SO much more under cut im sorry Brain went Brrr)

Tbh it must be so wild to be in this world too tho, for some many reasons. It's close enough, but then you factor in all the different races and species, and how the world is set up. Add the fact most of it not as advanced as their world, except in some places which it is? And how half their technology runs on... snails?????? What a baffling world. Also, people can have powers and are gained from something called Devil Fruits which give you powers in exchange that the sea can and will kill you, except for some races have natural powers due to their biology.

They decide pretty quickly in world of water to not eat the Devil Fruits. Also keep an eye on Duke because his powers, while not too flashy, arnt a devil fruit, and they have no way to explain how he has them, and how he can manipulate both light and shadows.

Its probs also so jarring because like, in their world, they are used to being the peak of what humans can do. They keep up with metas and aliens and are cosidered among the best of the best for a reason, and while they often have to compensate with gear and tech, at the end of the day they can only go so far as humans.

However, it's different in this world. Clearly even though there are humans, their biological standards are different then their Earth, and even just humans without powers can go far beyond their own norm if they train and work hard enough for it.

The Batfam could easily handle the Blue's pirates and marines, and probs all cannon fodder marines, and while I think they could deal with a good chunk if not most people in Paradise baring the strongest in the first half of the grand line, there's no way they could deal with the New World even with their best gear and in peak condition for them. Which sucks because their best bets are likely in that Sea.

Idk where I'd see them, my heart wants them to be pirates of their own little run pirate crew, but I could easily see them being picked up by a canon crew or turning Revolutionaries in exchange for getting help find a way home, or pirates with connections to Revs. The only thing I can't see is them as Marines, as stated a few paragraphs above, lol, but also I figure they run into the law and go fuck you guys and what you stand for and end up with bounties so they are wanted anyways. But either way they are gonna be progressing and trying to find a way home while getting stronger.

I imagine Haki is the first thing they really try to get down after leanring about it. Idk how they managed to find out about it either in the blues or so early in the grand line, but they are expert information gatherers so they do and immediately try to learn it (either tracking someone down who knows it or how to unlock it, or finding adequate documentation in how to do it) and get to work. It's their best chances in getting a leg up in this world.

And they do unlock it! They're pretty much all geniuses, and they already have experience learning weird skills and manipulating their mental will (they can block out telepaths and have strong willpower in general against mind control canonically), so learning to manifest it into Observation and Armament Haki is less about how hard it is and more just if they can (After all they aren't from this world) and how to apply it. Thankfully, it seems they can.

Duke's Observation makes his future vision so much more powerful, so much he actually has adverse effects to it at first before he gets used to it. Observation is great, just helps what they already natrually know but Armament is very much beloved, instant armor that helps you hit harder even against normal people, let alone devil fruit users!! They are big fans.

Conquerors Haki off the table rn because A.) they don't know if they have it and B.) Who or whatever they learned Haki from didn't explain it or have it to explain so that's put to the side for now, but I'm unsure who, if any of them, have it. Maybe Bruce and Jason, and maybe Damian? I feel?? I could also see Dick unlocking his use of it in a fit of protective rage? Im largely Unsure.

I also think it would be neat if the longer they are here, their bodies adapt to this world more and more until they start being able to past their peak of what they could do before and just... keep going. It varies from each batfam member how they feel on their biology changing over time, but they can't do more than just accept it. At least it will help them survive.

Also, they have to adapt in more ways than one. They arrive and their best gear, fully stocked and mostly undamaged, but the longer they are here the more they run out of supplies and things wear down so they have to figure out how to get/make more or alternate for something better. Batarangs thankfully, while having to be made of a different material, can be made from any island with a good blacksmith who's willing to let them use their forges to make them themselves (cuz having to commission them would take money they don't actually have)

Their suits thankfully are fine and reinforced, but over time they're gonna have to likely find a fabric that could replace the stuff their suits are made of or just switch to diffrent outfits inspired by their suits. Dick's Escrima Sticks can't be charged, so they end up not electrified until they find a way to do it later. Jason's guns inevitably run out of ammo then even if he makes his own, they get just damaged so he's forced to switch to the local pirate guns, thankfully not all are just flintlocks.

Damian's sword is apparently very high grade here and is very smug about it, though annoyed other "Swordsmen" keep wanting to know more about his blade and where he learned to use his "weird style". Tim gets a boa staff that has the ends tipped in sea stone.

Their styles also adapt over time. I have this vision of Dick getting his hands on these boots, probs with Dial technology, that let him jump higher and bounce off of walls if he times it right. Jason with Dial guns. They start picking up the 6 powers as well, not all, but Geppo and Soru become very heavily utilized. I think one of them should end up with Voice of all Things, either Cass or Duke, because it's fun lol.

Im... unsure about devilfruits, but I think it would be intrestin to explore if somone ate one, likely out of despration or having little choice. Unsure who or what fruit but just would be neat i think, expecially dealin with the side effects. Tho Dick with a Wind Logia or a winged Zoan of sorts sounds SO interesting. (Can you tell who my favorite batfam memeber is? ^-^')

As for Ponyglaph Runes, Bruce and Tim def find out about it and try their best to tackle it, but It's REALLY hard to learn an entirely different language with unfamiliar sentence structure when you have absolutely no keys or references to work with. They learn of Nico Robin, and aren't stupid so figure it's likely an awful cover-up or more to the story, and decide to lowkey make it one of their goals to track her or any other knowledge on how to learn it down. If they get even a bare hint of a clue on how to translate, I'm sure they'd figure it out over time, but Robin is their best bet.

They find out about Whitebeard, and they are quietly glad Bruce's adoption problem isn't that bad but think its funny. Dick is beloved by all and makes enough friends and allies to rival Luffy's charisma, it's a skill man. I can't decide if their Epithets in this world are just their Vigilante names, and they stay masked, or they get knew Epithets and decide there's no point in hiding, or a mix of both but yee.

The OP world either speaks "Common" they can all magically speak now with some diffrent launages in diff parts of the world, OR Japanese, which some of them know and have to teach the others, OR a weird mix of English and Japanese. There's a point in time that people think Damian is Nico Robin's child or sibling because of the Robin thing, and he's a little demon child. Or hell they still do, and he's very livid while Robin is both amused but also scared for this child who is being tied to her.

They still dont kill for the most part, baring Jason, but some of them are pushed into it and they have to figure out what that means for them and what it means moving fowrard with their no kill policy. Some do better with it, some dont. Bruce still hasnt and wont kill, same with Cass, and Damian decides he doesnt want to but will if absolutly no other choice is offered, thankfully they havnt let him had to make this choice yet. (I just have so much thoughts about a assassin raised child deciding they dont want their hands more red now they have the choice).

One or more of them should end up pulled into the War at Marineford and Ace should be saved because I will try to fit a Ace Lives plot into everything lol

Overall I think if this was a fanfic the plot would be a lot of exploring the differences in their worlds, how they adapt and overcome, and trying to find a way home while also coming to like this world and overturning corruption and fucking over the government. I think them with the Strawhats or another crew would be fun, either as allies or joined idk, but I think with them as their own crew would be cool as well. If they join or ally with a crew Bruce lowkey adopts everyone, and he's given SO much shit for it but christ so many of them have such sad backstories and he wants to help

I think in the end they should get to find their way home and like no time has passed, but they're so changed, and arguably considered powered now because lol, but find a way to go back and visit safely.

Sorry for the word vomit but man im in love with this idea. Feel free to comment or send Asks with questions or comments about the au! Please Reblog, and not just like, as they do nothing <3

#mine #aus #one piece au #headcanon #batman #dc comics #dc x op #dc x one piece #batfam #pirate batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #duke thomas #straw hat pirates #whitebeard pirates #One Piece Batfam au

[ruporas]

invisible scars (referenced previous talk here)

[ID: A colourless, digital Trigun comic of Vash and Wolfwood talking about Wolfwood's scars. They're both laying in bed and topless. Vash lays on top of Wolfwood, playing with the rosary around his neck. Then, Vash kisses a spot on Wolfwood's chest. Wolfwood asks, "What are you doing?" Vash smiles sadly, "You got shot here. In the last town we visited. You didn't even bother moving."

Vash props himself up over Wolfwood, who frowns slightly. Wolfwood is quiet for a moment before he says, "You remember that, huh?" Vash grabs Wolfwood's left wrist and brings it to his face. "And here." He kisses another spot there. "When you helped free the hostages from that robber..." Wolfwood dismissively says, looking away, "Was a lucky shot." Vash huffs, “Don’t brag. Jeez.”

Half of Wolfwood's expression is shown, eyes returning to Vash who is now sitting up, continuing to say, "And..." Vash goes on and kiss Wolfwood's right palm. "You got cut here, even though that girl was aiming at me." A moment from the past flashes, of Wolfwood grabbing a knife aimed at Vash, his hand bleeding.

At present, Vash moves down and puts another kiss on Wolfwood's right shoulder. "And here, from watching my back." Another memory flashes of Wolfwood and Vash back to back. Vash looks back as Wolfwood grins while holding Punisher, bleeding from multiple gunshots in his shoulder.

"And," Vash combs up Wolfwood's hair to reveal his forehead, "Here." A final memory shows Wolfwood with a regeneration vial in his mouth while getting shot on his temple. The next panel is framed in blood with Vash at the center, eyes wide and stunned in horror. The next panel is a closed up shot of Wolfwood's eye, locked on Vash's face.

Back to present, Vash’s head is bowed down as Wolfwood raises a hand to his nape and says, “Spikey.”

Wolfwood looks serious and frowns as he says, "We talked about this. Those were my decisions. They're not there anymore. Forget about them." Vash looks very sad before he smiles ruefully and says, "I still see them. All the time." He leans down so they touch foreheads. Wolfwood’s sorrowful expression can be seen as Vash says, "You protect so much. I could never forget what you've done to me. And many others..."

In the last image, they're drawn more cartoonishly. Wolfwood sweats and asks, "You don't actually remember every wound, right?" Vash points at a spot on his chest. "Kuroneko left a scratch here 7 times." Wolfwood, startled, says, "Why the hell are you keeping count—" End ID]

Credits for ID here and here

#vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun #trigun maximum #another scars comic for one of the vw week days!!!! frankly i think about their scars WAY too often . most notably wolfwood's because #it really symbolizes a lot for him imo bc for vash it's a history of all the people that's ever harmed him betrayed him and the trust he has #given to humanity despite it all. its a beautiful reflection of his character and then u look at ww and presumably #since we dont really see him half naked Ever (shame) and i mean. i guess technically its a hc -- i assume he wouldn't have any scars bc #of the regen potions (which is why he doesnt have his t scars btw the regen pot took them away :pensive:) #in a way its like washing his hands of blood. giving him the body of someone who might never been involved in a fight never held a gun #but he knows thats not true yet he cant really do anything about it anyway bc he's still just human. if he stops taking the regen pots #he can't press forward. so its just a rinse and repeat and growing accustomed to whats inflicted on him because he knows it'll go away at #the end of the day. he's human but he's also not he's far beyond what could be considered a normal human but he still just is. #mortal but also not immortal. idk. i overthink about it a lot GMSKGMDK frankly i dont think it matters THAT much in the context of trimax #but it means a lot to me somehow. also thinking about how no matter how many times ww kills he's never numb to the sensation of it. maybe #the adrenaline gets to him for the beginning half but ive been rereading like.. vol 3? and that entire fight for ww #u can slowly see him spiral as he keeps on going on. anyway anyway. i love ww #ruporas art

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons

I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere

You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”

Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”

He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.

The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."

Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.

"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."

As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.

"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"

He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.

The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.

He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.

"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."

He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.

He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.

Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.

The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.

He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.

After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.

His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere werewolf #werewolf x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #monster romance #yandere headcanons #male yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut #monster smut #monster boyfriend

[dualitue]

𝑹𝑨𝑭𝑨𝒀𝑬𝑳, 001.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘮 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯, 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴, 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘐'𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦."

★: please don't tell me that this would suit zayne more i realized that it was too late and i felt too lazy to change it. besides rafayels growing on me so i had to write him. i also got lazy by the end and didn't proofread this so don't expect much T_T reblogs and any possible thoughts are appreciated!!!! <3

★ oral (f. receiving) + body worshipping + whiny couple + fingering + aftercare mentioned + doing it while being sick may not be the best idea but who cares!

An act of kindness is what has started it all, really. He often times thinks of you as a thick-skulled, naive girl thanks to your thinking mechanism that pushes you to go above and beyond just to lend a helping hand—but how can he blame you, really? It's not some grand gesture for a spotlight; it's just you being yourself. A courageous heart, pulsating with an urgent need to make a difference. Regardless of the timeline, the universe, or the body you inhabit, your soul always manages to peek through the cracks in the shell. Unaware that you leave an imprint with every breath, he worries that your innocence and tender heart may be a permanent fixture.

Rafayel should have realized you were trouble from the start.

Once you catch wind of someone in need, nothing else seems to register in that mind of yours.

He should have steered clear of you, or perhaps he should have wished for selective memory loss, anything to rid himself of the torment that plagued his every moment at the thought of you. Whether it's a curse or a blessing, he can't be certain, and the uncertainty gnaws at him. Memories of his days submerged in the depths of despair, yearning for you like a man starved... Truly, a memory loss would have spared him those endless, restless nights haunted by your memory. He vividly recalls the relentless hunger for the connection between his mind and yours. He used to believe that waiting for the one you love should be painless, like a fairy tale reunion. However, reality was far from enchanting, his days consumed by torment. Your radiant face invaded his thoughts every time he closed his eyes, and sometimes, he didn't even have to delve into the realm of closed eyelids. Whether it was his mind playing tricks or a disconcerting desperation for you, there were moments he found solace in the dreams of you, right before his wide-open eyes.

In those dreams, your hair took on a darker hue underwater, the waves cradling you warmly, dispelling any fear. He was convinced the ocean would hold you dear, intimately familiar with your name. Your every movement, the way your hair framed your face, the melody of your voice—these elements combined, making it impossible not to be captivated. If he had known the outside world held you, he would never have considered leaving the comfort of his home. Yet, that's the hand of fate, a concept you humans often label as destiny.

Rafayel remains baffled by the mysterious workings of this thing called fate. Is it akin to a magnetic force, or does it mirror the intricate patterns of the ocean? The idea of one's entire life being meticulously planned before even opening one's eyes, waiting for the precise moments when everything aligns, isn't a matter of him being unable to grasp the logic. It's more about the undeniable sense that everything in his life, leading up to the moment he encountered you, felt purposefully directed to bring him to you, and you to him. Love, as it turns out, was a weighty burden he had never anticipated carrying around.

That's likely the reason his gaze carries a tinge of sorrow today. Seated on the vacant space of the couch while you rest, your once radiant eyes now only half-open, your lips slightly parted to ease your breathing. He appears and sounds concerned, though he understands that your fever prevents you from recognizing the emotional turmoil he currently grapples with.

"You're already playing the hero as a Hunter," he remarks, his fingertips registering the warmth of your skin—feverish, and he can't help but check it persistently. "What more do you need to offer as a hero? Was it really necessary?"

You remain silent, the weight of your breath filling his expansive studio, visibly swallowing. No regrets about your actions, but a nagging thought that perhaps a bit more contemplation would have been wiser.

"Hey, don't doze off on me now, answer me."

His tone is insistent, almost desperate, a hint of anger present, though directed more at the ceaseless need within you to be helpful all the time.

"What do you want me to say?" you reply, your chapped lips stinging with each uttered word. "I couldn't have said no, not when it was clear they needed help."

"You could!" Rafayel counters like a petulant child, his selfish side revolving entirely around you resurfacing. "You know you could have! Work and favors are different, and you weren't tasked with assisting a nerdy sociopath in retrieving… what was it again?"

"Rafayel," his name escapes your lips softly, a reminder of the unintentional power you hold over him. The mere sound of his name from you stirs something within him, and Rafayel can't help but feel a bit flustered. "I really don't want to talk about this."

"Fine," he snorts, still clearly irritated but acknowledging your lack of stamina for this conversation. "Go to sleep, then. I'll see what I can do for you."

"Not invading my personal space and laying off the nagging would be more than enough, highly appreciated, really."

A soft, breathy laugh accompanies your words. Despite the occasional sharpness of your comments, both of you understand they're lighthearted, devoid of any malicious intent.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just close your eyes. This is my house, and personal space is a non-existing concept here. Take it or leave it."

"I can't leave; I'm sick," you murmur, your voice huskier than ever due to the severe cold. "Looks like I might have to take it."

"Such a smart girl," he teases, a hint of mockery in his voice, his gaze fixed on your slightly red face. "Wish you could use that pretty brain of yours in situations like this. I feel sorry for you sometimes."

"I feel sorry for myself, too. Your sassiness doesn't spare me even when I'm sick. Plus, this is the worst cold I've ever had. Feels like I'm on my death bed with you right next to me, nagging and scolding."

He's well aware it's just a passing moment, that you'll bounce back from this illness soon enough. Yet, even the casual mention of it in a lighthearted and trivial sentence makes Rafayel squirm uncomfortably beside you.

"Shut up, don't exaggerate."

"Guess who I learned that from?"

"You're insufferable," he declares, finally rising to search for his phone, cast somewhere in his room.

"You won't believe what I'm about to say, yet again," he marvels at your knack for matching his energy, finding himself increasingly addicted to this dynamic.

"Let's get you somewhere more comfortable, maybe you'll actually manage to fall asleep and spare me the constant nagging."

"You're the one who brought me to your place when you found out I was sick!"

You stifle a laugh, resisting the urge to appreciate his caregiver side a bit more. However, your expression gives you away; the corners of your mouth twitch, a smile reaching your eyes before gracing your face.

"Ha-ha, very funny. So funny that I can't even bring myself to laugh, fearing I might never find anything else amusing ever again."

The studio carries a subdued ambiance today, courtesy of the gray clouds and dismal weather outside. Despite the apparent disorder, there's an inherent harmony within its chaotic appearance. Unfinished paintings scatter around, some paints meticulously organized by tone and hue, while others haphazardly rest on a small table in the corner. Curtains drawn wide, tall windows invite as much natural light as possible, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of pressing a seashell against your ear—faint waves hitting the shore.

With a single effortless motion, Rafayel lifts your weakened body, his concern palpable as he carries you to his bedroom. Surprisingly, you feel lighter in his arms, despite your condition, as he carefully settles you onto his bed. Profoundly sweating, you've lost count of the shirts Rafayel has helped you change into. He's already arranged for a doctor to examine you, initially fearing the worst, only to discover it's a severe cold exacerbated by exhaustion. With medication in hand, Rafayel diligently ensures you take your doses, managing the situation with utmost care.

Except for his own sanity.

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state for the first time, you appear unlike the confident Hunter he knows—or perhaps it's his own perception, magnified by witnessing your illness firsthand.

Compared to the rest of the house, Rafayel's bedroom feels refreshingly cool, providing a welcome relief to your feverish skin.

"This feels nice," you murmur as he lays you gently on the bed, the softness of the mattress embracing you instantly, coaxing your eyes closed. "Like being hugged by the sea on a hot summer day. Cool and comforting."

Your words, uttered innocently, send a shiver down Rafayel's spine.

Being hugged by the sea… comforting…

Suddenly, he's overwhelmed by an urge to hold you even closer, to let you feel the steady rhythm of his heart, to assure you that the embrace of the water is always within reach.

"That's probably because your fever hasn't gone down; just get some rest."

"Will you stay here?"

You weakly tug on the hem of his shirt, your eyes opening a bit more, almost peering into his soul.

"I will," Rafayel responds, immediately sensing he can't leave you alone even for a second, though he refrains from showing it. "If you ask nicely enough."

"Oh, shut it," you laugh, covering your eyes with the back of your hand. You stay like that for a while, eyes closed and hand resting on your face, when you feel his warm breath gently caressing your skin. A sudden urge to gulp overtakes you, your heart pounding so rapidly it feels as if it's not a heart but a bird begging to be set free.

"Come on," Rafayel murmurs, every puff of breath warming your face and body, as if you haven't fallen victim to a fever. "Just ask, it won't hurt, right?"

"I've changed my mind."

"Don't spoil the fun now."

His slender fingers wrap gently around your wrist, and to your surprise, his skin is cold against yours. Despite the fever that makes you feel like you're boiling from the inside, your body craves that cool touch. Rafayel lifts your hand, slowly and carefully, pinning it against the soft pillow under your head. Now, you have no choice but to look at him, your clouded eyes meeting his shining ones as both of you let the silence linger. It's not awkward, but neither is it fully comforting—there's a subtle tension you can feel, adding to your fever, and tears well up in your eyes as you stare at him.

Rafayel feels like there's a dagger stabbed right into his chest, turning and turning like a fallen leaf on an autumn day—he shivers the more he gazes into your widened eyes and parted lips. He can't be sure if it's just your fever that's bringing a sweet tint of red to your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and even the tips of your ears. All he can do is hope that, regardless of the circumstances, he's able to make you a bit flustered.

Without much thought, Rafayel presses his palm against the burning skin of your red cheek. You feel soft to the touch, and his hand is cold enough to elicit a calm, sharp breath from you. A thick fog envelops your mind and thoughts due to the fever. While it was worse a few hours ago, it still clouds your basic thinking skills. Your body is burning, but you're sure it's not that feverish. Knowing you're sick adds a psychological discomfort—you subconsciously nuzzle against his big, cool palm. A soft whimper escapes your parted lips as you lean into Rafayel's touch, his palm covering your cheek as your eyes flutter closed in a seemingly calm manner. He doesn't dare utter a word, fearing he might disrupt the moment. It feels intimate and vulnerable; he's offering a simple act born from his feelings for you, and you're fitting into his hands like the matching piece of a puzzle.

"If you could touch me all over with these cold hands, I think this fever would just disappear," you murmur against his palm, resembling a cat seeking affection. Ironically, he doesn't even like cats, but it's not about them—it's about the vulnerability of the act. You may not realize what you're saying, but Rafayel's head spins with thoughts he dare not speak. His fingertips ache to reach and tug on the hem of his shirt you're wearing. He could get you out of it in seconds, exploring every inch of you, leaving nothing untouched.

He releases a shaky breath as his other hand lets go of yours, beginning to touch your face and neck. His breath comes out shaky as his fingertips explore the softness of your face before descending to your neck—a sacred area. He senses you gulp as his palm presses against the front of your neck. The pressure is almost nonexistent as he gently caresses your skin. You don't feel brave enough to open your eyes; his touch alone is intense, and you're uncertain of the intensity awaiting you in his gaze.

"What if I accidentally make you feel hotter than before?" Rafayel breathes out the words, his voice low and hesitant as he whispers. You gulp again, making him feel the movement against his palm as he takes another sharp breath. "We wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Summoning courage, you slowly open your eyes to gauge Rafayel's expression. The moment your eyes meet his, Rafayel swallows back a desperate whimper. He wasn't prepared for your heavy gaze, feeling crushed under its weight, as if there's a demand he might not be able to satisfy even with his all.

Both of you remain awfully quiet as Rafayel's fingers slightly wrap around your neck, fitting like a perfect necklace. He gently gives the faintest squeeze, leaving you lightheaded. Your eyes get even glossier—you're like a doll, spread out in his bed, wearing his clothes. It's impossible not to be overwhelmed.

"I don't think your cold hands would betray me like that," you whisper, still feeling a bit dizzy from the gentle squeeze around your neck. Does he even realize the effect he has on you? It seems like he's testing the waters for both of you, exploring your reactions and his own feelings. The sensation is dizzying for him as well.

Remembering that this isn't the right time for something like this, Rafayel reluctantly pulls his hands back, though he yearns to have them pressed against you. It doesn't matter where he touches you; all he needs is to feel you under his touch.

"No," you whine, eyebrows furrowed. Your hand slowly reaches up, grabbing him by the sleeve of his shirt to bring his hands back to your face and neck. "Keep them, it feels nice."

"You have no idea what you're asking for," Rafayel murmurs. "Just because the waters are cold doesn't mean they won't swallow you whole, silly girl."

"Don't care," you shrug.

Rafayel hums in response, his fingertips trailing down to the hem of the t-shirt you're wearing before his hands sneak under the thin fabric after you give him an affirming nod. "If only you could be good and listen to me," he gently caresses your torso, your skin feeling soft and warm as he can't stop himself from traveling higher. His fingertips touch the fabric of your bra this time, and both of you feel yourselves shaken to your cores; a soft whimper falls from your lips unlike Rafayel, who's giving his all to keep it quiet for now. "Do I have to tire you out to make you sleep?"

You cannot give an answer, you're already feeling high on the feeling as his cold fingertips slip under your bra too, causing your nipples to get hard and perk up immediately. You slightly arch your back to signal him that you want it off, and Rafayel is quick to pick up on that; with a skilled and swift movement of his fingers, he unclasps your bra.

You should've checked the weather forecast more carefully, really—well, you don't feel as feverish as before, but your body feels heavy. Maybe it's because Rafayel is so adept at kneading you into the state he desires you in, who knows? With your lips slightly parted and heavy eyelids veiling the intensity of your eyes, you accept Rafayel's touch as if it's the only thing that can help you now. He pushes the hem of the t-shirt up, and you feel him tapping the side of your body. You sit up slightly to give him the access he asks for, and Rafayel doesn't waste any time. He quickly gets rid of the t-shirt and bra. Now, even the air feels cold against your skin—his hands are comforting, but the air in his bedroom causes shivers to run down your spine.

All that can be heard from Rafayel is his heavy panting as he changes his position, seating himself between your legs and slowly hovering over you as he leans in. You want to tell him that he's going to get sick after all this, but you don't have the heart to mess this moment up by bringing up such an obvious and silly thing. The sound of Rafayel's first kiss right on between your breasts echoes in the room, or that's how it sounds to you, loud and exciting—the kiss makes you breathlessly moan as you grip the sheets underneath your hands. You know what to expect, you know what's to come, but still you can't help that slight shaking of your body when Rafayel's hot mouth takes in your nipple. You try your best to hold yourself back from tugging on his hair, pressing yourself more to him, or any possible desperate act of this neediness that you have for everything that he can possibly give to you. However, as if you've lost control of your movements, your hands softly find their place in Rafayel's soft hair—experimentally tugging on, just to get a muffled deep groan against your skin.

His head moves slightly, his tongue lazily twirling around your nipple as you're withering underneath him—with one hand, palm pressing against the inner side of your thigh, Rafayel makes you spread your legs further so that he can get into a position that's also comfortable for him. Your fever feels as if it's turned into a bonfire, crackling and ready to swallow both of you whole as soft noises of yours fill Rafayel's ears. He breathlessly gulps before teasingly taking the sensitive nipple between his teeth—the act is enough to send jolts throughout your weak body, you tug on his hair harder than before.

"You enjoy that," he whispers, amused and amazed by your reaction as he tilts his head up slightly to stare into your glossy eyes, only to lean in and repeat the same action. You cry out, feeling like you're melting in his hands as he keeps teasing you. He's not doing much, but you're embarrassingly wet as he continues the act. Your panties immediately get damp, and it feels uncomfortable at some point. "Don't get ideas," you say with a huff of air escaping from your parted lips. They feel dry because of the level of heat embracing your trembling body.

"Don't you think that you're a bit late to say that?" He whispers against your skin, his hands resting on the sides of your body, fingers gently caressing the skin accessible to his touch. His mouth keeps pressing kisses all over your chest between each word. "You've given me quite a lot of ideas. I might push the limits to their fullest if you keep making those pretty noises."

"Rafayel," a gulp, loud enough to shake him to his core. "Don't play, please."

He groans in defeat, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly—how can he say no? How can he possibly say no when your heartbeat is loud and fast enough to be heard? He sits on his knees first, freeing you from your sweatpants and your embarrassingly soaked panties—the sight of your glistening folds immediately gets a reaction from him; a desperate whimper as he throws the pieces of clothing somewhere in his room. His fingers move down as he lays on his torso on the bed, sliding down, supporting your legs by grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing your legs to your chest—the position has you all red, the blush spreading down to your chest as you're now fully exposed to him. To ease off the unnecessary tension you feel, Rafayel presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh. His hot breath hits your sensitive skin, and it feels like this has meant to happen at some point, and this was the perfect time.

"You've got to tell me to stop now if you're not sure," Rafayel's whisper intensifies the sensations, and you feel a hot wave hitting you, making you jolt as your knees almost touch your chest. "Because once I get a taste, I know that I won't be able to stop."

His voice sounds much deeper, and you feel almost threatened by the tone alone—possible thoughts related to what he can do to you run havoc in your mind as you stare at him with empty eyes. All you have in your mind is that you need him; you crave whatever he can give you—of course, you're not going to tell him to stop at any point.

So you stay quiet, your eyes locked with his in an intense gaze as he looks up at you from between your legs. With your fingertips gently playing with his hair, you keep your silence, hoping that it'll be enough of an answer. Yet, it turns out that it's not enough of an answer.

"You need to use your words," Rafayel desperately murmurs this time, pressing wet and open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs as he breaths sharply. "Please, tell me that you want it, I need to hear it from you."

He looks so pretty from this angle—well, it's a well-known fact that he is undoubtedly a pretty boy, but the way he's looking up at you with those expecting eyes and that expression of raw need on his face makes something in you snap suddenly. You part your lips, but it suddenly feels kind of embarrassing to say it out loud. Rafayel moves up and closer to your face, his hand cupping your cheek, and you immediately lean into his touch with your eyes closed. "Look at me, baby, say it."

Your lips part apart slightly as you open your eyes slowly, your dry lips press the lightest kiss to his thumb—and it makes him absentmindedly push his finger into your mouth. Ironically, this act gives you the push that you need. Before wrapping your lips around his thumb, you give him what he wants, you say what he needs to hear.

"I want it," just three words, uttered lowly and slowly, and coming out all muffled because of his finger exploring the warmth of your mouth—and it pushes him over the edge. "Fuck," breathlessly falls from his lips, drawn out in a long way. Rafayel pulls his hand back, his thumb staying close to the side of your mouth as he kisses you—the kiss is sloppy and it shakes you to your core. His thumb lightly gets in the way but none of you seem to care about that, the hunger you both have for each other feels insatiable as Rafayel licks into your mouth. Wet sounds of your lips moving hungrily against each other fill his room as Rafayel takes his time with tasting your lips, savouring the taste of your long gone lip gloss as you moan into his mouth, in turn, he happily drinks in all your pretty noises.

You lazily throw your arms over his shoulders, his messy and soft hair meeting the gentle touch of your hands as you two share a desperate kiss. Suddenly, you can't even remember the reason you're here in the first place—all you can think about is the way Rafayel is so, so into you. The way his one hand stays pressed against your cheek while the other pushes your hair out of the way before traveling down to the side of your waist and caressing the skin feels intimate and arousing at the same time. You try to break the kiss, to take a much-needed breath, but Rafayel doesn't let go of you. His hand holds your head in place, his lips getting more eager and hungrier as his body tenses under your skillful hands softly caressing his hair.

"Can't breathe," you finally manage to get the words out when you push him gently by pressing your hands against his chest. His skin feels as hot as your feverish one, but you can still feel the subtle chill to his hands. "Rafayel, wait—let me, ah, breathe a second."

He is long gone, lost in the whirl of primal emotions that he has fallen victim to. His lips are relentless, his head seeking a feeling that he can only expect from you in the crook of your neck—his kisses trail a wet line along the side of your neck. "Okay, okay," he whispers, visibly trying to calm himself down. "I just—ah, shit, I just need to feel you somehow, taste you."

The way his words come from a feeling that is unfiltered and genuine has you succumbing to his desires. You feel the need to give your all to him, to offer yourself in any way possible, in the way he wants you. As you throw your head back to give him more room, a breathless "yeah," falls from your lips. "Yeah, okay, go on."

Rafayel becomes unstoppable once he gets your consent, once he realizes that you're okay with this. And that's really all he has to get from you to feel something snap in himself—a whiny whimper falling from his lips etches itself into the soft and hot skin of your neck as his kisses follow each other all the way to your shoulder.

"I'll be so good to you," he breathlessly reassures you, even though you don't need any reassurance because you know that he will. You know that he will be such a good boy for you—he will be able to tame that burning desire in you in such a way that you'll get hooked on the feeling. "I know," you, too, reassure him, letting him know what he does to you with little to no effort. Just by following an instinctive feeling, he has the power to rule your body and your mind.

His cold fingertips trail down on your body, finding their place in between your legs. The feeling of his fingertips ghosting over your slick folds make both of you moan, your back arches, your body begging to get the best of this feeling. Even though he's peppering your body with open-mouthed kisses, you still feel embarassingly empty somehow—even this thought alone is enough to get you all flustered and shy.

For some time, it's probably minutes but feels like an eternity, none of you speak; just enjoying the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other. Your hands are as mindless as usual, you don't know what to do with them as Rafayel rubs your aching clit in a teasing way; you feel yourself growing impatient, desperately needing him to make you feel full, it doesn't matter how he does it, but he has to do it.

"Rafayel", you whine, impatiently tugging on his hair as your body feels like shattering into million pieces and being kneaded into this desireful shell from the scratch. He hums in response as his kisses start to trail down further down to your torso, it kind of tickles—your body jolts forward when he playfully bites the side of your waist. Swallowing down all the shyness, you try to push his head down a bit more, leading him to your weeping cunt—the sheets underneath you and your inner thighs are damp with your wetness. The way Rafayel manages to get you this turned on and this wet makes both of you gasp when you feel his fingers gathering the slick and smearing it to your folds as if you're not wet enough. The swift movement of his fingers against your folds make you suck in a sharp breath, your body feels like it's about the explode if he makes you wait for it any more than this moment.

"What is it, Miss Bodyguard?" He taunts you, or you think that he does so, it really doesn't matter at this point. "Running low on patience?" His voice is deep, and you feel him finally adjusting his position as his lips press a kiss right to your cunt. You immediately cry out, the movement feeling as intense as it can be. You tug on his hair again, needing the feeling again, and you hear him chuckle. To your relief, he does it again, again and again—teasingly sucking on your clit between the kisses.

"Maybe you should've listened to me," Rafayels pants between the kisses. "I told you to go to sleep, didn't I? You wouldn't be begging like this if you could've just listened to me in the first place."

You cannot find the right piece of your mind to answer him, he's good at making you unable to think properly. Your only answer to him is another low moan—making him get al the answers he needs. You want to tell him to stop the teasing, but the feeling is so good that you can't even acknowledge his words. Rafayel looks pretty from where you're looking at him, his hair doesn't do any justice since it hides his eyes but you're sure that you won't be able to bear the intensity in them if he ever looks into your eyes. His shoulders look broader when he's buried between your trembling legs, the way his biceps flex while his arms are hooked around your legs to keep you in place makes you suck in a shaky breath.

His head moves up and down, his tongue deliberately exploring and tasting you. You grind against his hot mouth, and he groans in response—loving the way you're demanding more from him. It's almost like he exists to serve you; Rafayel has always been attentive to your wants, and to give you what you want now is nothing but pleasure to him. His tongue moves skillfully and also hungrily, you think that you might cum at any given moment—and the thought is a bit embarassing, really, because you want to enjoy the feeling a bit more.

Just as you part your lips to say something, Rafayel slowly pushes a finger inside your cunt—eliciting the most delicious moan from you. You're burning up now from the inside, feeling your body becaoming helpless and succumbing to his mercy as he starts to finger you slowly at first. When your walls stop clencing around him, Rafayel adds the second finger—this is even more dizzying, and you feel yourself getting suffocated by the feeling alone. It'll never measure up to the way his cock stretches you out, but he manages to satisfy you no matter how.

"Hag—ah, Rafayel," you breathlessly mumble, your heavy eyes falling to his broad shoulders again. He's still fully clothed, so you tug on the sleeve of his shirt, that's when he tilts his head up to look into your eyes directly. The sight of him makes you dumb; his chin is wet, his lips glisten, and his eyes carry such intensity and adoration that you stumble upon your own words. Stuttering, you say, "take it off," but Rafayel chuckles as a whisper before leaning down again to suck on your clit while also moving his fingers faster than before.

"No."

"No?"

"No. This is about you feeling good, not about me. Just enjoy it, don't think of anything else."

You open your mouth to protest, but he doesn't even let you start.

"Well, I might be enjoying this more than you maybe, just to let you know. You sound pretty," he breathlessly murmurs, words coming out slurred as his lips presses kisses to your inner thighs. You feel yourself getting even closer, and your body slightly trembles—you can't help but press your legs to the both sides of his head, keeping him there, where he belongs prettily.

"Because you're a pretty girl, aren't you? Even when you're as stubborn as ever, even when you're crying underneath me, you're always a pretty girl, making pretty sounds," his fingers start to move even faster now, your legs shaking on both sides of his head as your chest heaves up and down with your erratic breaths.

Before you need to say it, Rafayel can feel that you're about to cum—your walls clenching around his wet fingers are enough to let him know. He doesn't stop nor does he slows down, on the contrary, in addition to his fingers he gets back to sucking on your clit. It doesn't take you long to cry out his name, or you think so, complete gibberish falls from your lips as you cum—thrashing around his fingers while your body is shaking. Rafayel keeps fingering you and eating you out through your orgasm, tasting you like a man starved as you hear the slick sounds of his fingers and his tongue. Feeling overly sensitive, you gently push his hand back, and he obliges—slowly pulling back to look at your face. Eyes heavy, cheeks tinted with red, chest heaving up and down... he's glad that he's able to paint you in any way in his memories. What would he do if he couldn't do that? Well, he might've had to make you cum again and again until it became impossible to not see you whenever he closed his eyes.

"Ssh, my pretty girl," he whisper as he gets on the same level as your face, there's the slightest smirk on his face as he carefully pays attention to every detail about your face, and your expression. "You good?" Rafayel asks.

"Yeah, yeah I just—uh, I think I just need to..."

"Sleep, maybe?"

"Yeah, that."

Rafayel laughs, low and genuine, soothing you as you listen to it. You want to kiss him, accepting the fact that you'll taste yourself if you do so, but your eyelids feel so heavy that you cannot resist against the drowsiness taking over you.

"Okay, do that then." Rafayel slowly gets up from the bed, and you can only guess how hard he is after all that—your hands ache to touch him, take his hardened cock out of his pants and help him relax, too.

"But you—"

"I told you that this is about you," Rafayel says, walking to the bathroom, You lay on his bed, feeling cold, immediately missing his warmth. He comes back with a wet towel, sitting next to you before he starts to clean you up.

"But, of course, this doesn't mean that I won't ask for what's rightfully mine," he softly chuckles. "But only when you're feeling all better, now sleep."

And you do as he tells you to do so, a slight smile forming on your lips as you close your eyes—realizing that you've needed this sleep really bad, but still had Rafayel to serve you like a true devotee.

#🩰.ela writes #love and deepspace #l&ds #love and deep space rafayel #rafayel smut #rafayel x reader #rafayel imagine #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut #l&ds rafayel #love and deep space x reader #love and deep space x you

[blackbleedingrose]

Long Lost Morningstar - Part Two

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing(s): Charlie x reader (platonic), Vaggie x reader (platonic), Charlie x Vaggie

Genre: Fluff

Warning(s): minor cursing.

Notes: This is the second installment of LLM. This one will be going more in depth in (Y/N)'s life in Heaven and her relationship with Michael and Charlie. I will also be working on another Hazbin mini series (the one I mentioned in my last post) so part three will take a little longer - so, please, bare with me.

Words: 2215

"This is one of the reasons why I wanted to meet you in the first place. . . My full name is (Y/N) Demiurgos. Daughter of Archangel Michael Demiurgos".

(Y/N) Demiugros have lived in Heaven her entire life among the archangels, seraphims, and winners (human souls who ascended into Heaven after they died).

She, herself, was a seraphim - one with very large and beautiful wings; six in total.

Her father, Michael, was one of Heaven's archangel's and one of the Seven Virtues. He was the one who had created her from stardust.

At least, those were the stories she's been told her whole life.

Though, it was strange. . .

Her father had crafted her in his likeness and yet the two couldn't be more different.

Not to say Michael was a complete stiff or was lacking any sense of humor - in fact, all of the archangels had their own strange quirks. (Y/N) loved being around them and often shared their humor.

The problem here was. . . her curiosity.

She was a naturally curious being and would often dream of things most of Heaven would frown upon - like six-winged ducks.

As a child her curiosity would sometimes get the better of her and she would try to venture beyond the archangel's castle (where she lived with Michael and the other archangels).

Of course, Michael was always there to stop her from wandering too far.

It became evident that (Y/N)'s curiosity and wonderous spirit would only get worse if he didn't stop it right there and then.

He didn't want her to end up like her real parents.

What (Y/N) didn't know was that almost everything she has ever known was a complete lie.

Or that Michael was not her real father/parent.

That title rightfully belonged to Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar.

But, of course, no one who knew ever planned on telling her; so, instead they twisted the truth.

Michael told her all about what Lucifer and Lilith had done and how the two brought evil into humanity. An act that got them a one-way dropped elevator ride straight to Hell.

Obviously leaving out the part where Lucifer and Lilith were her real parents, and instead told her they were her estranged uncle and aunt.

He had hoped telling her this would stifle her growing curiosity and wandering enough to keep her out of trouble and from ending up exactly where his twin brother and his lover had all those years ago.

It also helped that ever since Lucifer and Lilith's trial, Heaven has been cracking down on teaching their residents obedience and the consequences of straying too far.

And for a long time it worked.

(Y/N) was one of Heaven's top students and a role model seraphim to all angels alike.

On the outside she was grace, obedience, and perfection personified - just as she was taught and just as Heaven wanted.

But on the inside, she was still that curious and wonderous spirit who would secretly write her dreams in a private journal she had to hide away in a pocket dimension with her magic.

(Y/N) yearned to venture outside of Heaven and explore all the different realms to see what they had to offer. Like the ones she's read from the books in Heaven's restricted section that she may or may not break into in the dead of night (she's a sneaky little sneaker :P).

Tales of archons, unique planets, and realms with distorted human desires would fill her head - her heart yearning to one day travel to those places herself.

But for now, her life was in Heaven as a role model seraphim whose curiosity and wandering was kept in check.

. . . Until she caught wind of the Princess of Hell's meeting by her fellow seraphim, Emily, during their weekly hangout.

(Y/N) was aware Lucifer and Lilith had a child born in Hell, but she never expected her demon cousin would ever be granted permission to enter Heaven.

She couldn't help but wonder what her cousin wanted with Heaven.

Whatever it was, it was big enough to warrant a whole trial with the Head Seraphim, Sera.

Oh, no - there goes her curiosity.

(Y/N) knew her father would frown upon her interacting with the daughter of the ones who damned humanity. . . but she couldn't help it! She really wanted to meet her cousin and see what she was like.

Maybe people in Hell weren't as bad as Heaven made them out to be.

Luckily for her, Emily was quite the chatterbox and told her all about how she and Sera were going to give a tour to the Princess of Hell and her partner, the hotel they were staying at, and the exact room number.

Before she went on her way, (Y/N) managed to get one of her doting simps friends to cover for her and her duties to avoid raising suspicion.

When Emily and Sera had finished talking to Heaven's demon guests and brought them to their hotel room, (Y/N) was hidden away in the hallway waiting until they left.

As soon as she was sure Sera and Emily were gone, (Y/N) quickly rushed to the door.

She silently psyched herself up before knocking.

Charlie and Vaggie, who were skeptical to hear a knock so fast, hesitantly opened the door.

"Uh. . . Hello?".

When Charlie opened the door she definitely wasn't expecting to see a very tall angel with long blonde hair, purple eyes, red cheek circle's, and a big smile on her pale face standing outside. For a moment Charlie could have sworn she was almost looking at her mother.

"Hello! You must be Charlie and Vaggie! Emily's told me all about you - well, the only things that she knew before meeting you. Haven't had the chance to ask her about you after meeting you, but since I'm here now I might as well as you yourselves!".

(Y/N) snapped out of her trailing thoughts and rambling, "Oh, shit! My bad! I got a little carried away and forgot to introduce myself. Sorry. My name is (Y/N). I'm a seraphim. It's so nice to finally meet you!"

Charlie and Vaggie had to recover from the whiplash of the seraphim's personality and onslaught of words. Not wanting to offend her and mess up her chance before the trial, Charlie invited (Y/N) inside. (Y/N) eagerly accepted and walked into the room admiring it - she's never been in a hotel before.

"So. . . why are you here?" Vaggie asked rather rudely suspicious of why a random seraphim would go out of their way to talk to people from Hell. "Vaggie!" Charlie whisper-yelled afraid she offended a potential high authority in Heaven.

"Oh, well, I was hoping to get a chance to meet you both. When Emily told me about how the Princess of Hell wanted a meeting in Heaven about her hotel to redeem sinners, I'll admit my curiosity was peaked and I knew I had to see who you were in person".

Charlie gasped, her eyes shining, "Does this mean you think it's possible to rehabilitate demons?!". Vaggie glared at the angelic being, "Why would a seraphim care to meet people like us?".

(Y/N) gave the two a gentle smile, "Well, I tend to be a naturally curious individual - which I'm sure you can imagine isn't something Heaven is too fond of. As for redeeming sinners - I'm not sure. Personally, I would love to see souls in Hell given the chance to be redeemed and enter Heaven. Especially the ones who truly do not deserve eternal damnation. Which is why I'm excited to see how your trial ends. Hopefully you have evidence to prove your hotel works. I mean, if the Princess of Hell is willing to vouch and put in the effort on giving sinners a better chance at an afterlife in paradise, then maybe not all demons are bad after all".

Charlie and Vaggie were awestruck. Sure, Emily was really nice but (Y/N) was the first angel to actually be willing to give them a chance. Charlie had tears in her eyes, "D-Do you really believe that?". (Y/N) smiled and laid her hand on Charlie's, "I do".

Charlie and Vaggie smiled at the seraphim. It was nice to see that there was one angel here in Heaven who wasn't going to shut them down right away - someone who genuinely supported their cause.

The three chatted some more - mainly Charlie and (Y/N) with Vaggie chiming in from time to time. Now that the three got more comfortable with each other, the conversation was going a lot smoother. Despite just meeting one another, Charlie and (Y/N) felt like they've known each other for years.

"So, what do you do here in Heaven?" Charlie asked (Y/N). "Oh! Well, I sometimes help the archangels with their duties, but I mainly work in court trials", (Y/N) answered. Charlie's eyes lit up, "Court trials?".

(Y/N) immediately caught on. She shook her head, "Oh, no. Not in the actual trials; that's for the higher seraphims. In this case, Sera and Emily. I'm just a stenographer and record keeper. I help keep and maintain the court records and sometimes record the trials in person".

Vaggie raised a brow, "A seraphim as a stenographer?". (Y/N) nodded, "It's actually a very important job. . . but, I won't lie and say it was my first choice for a job. It was my father's idea. His way of keeping me busy, entertained, and out of trouble".

Charlie blinked, "Oh! Who's your father?". (Y/N) bit her lip nervous, "This is one of the reasons why I wanted to meet you in the first place. . . My full name is (Y/N) Demiurgos. Daughter of Archangel Michael Demiurgos". Charlie and Vaggie's jaws dropped.

"Archangel Michael?! A-As in my dad's twin brother?!".

(Y/N) nodded fiddling nervously with her hands. Charlie did a double take, "Woah, woah! Wait! Then doesn't that make us-" "Cousins," (Y/N) confirmed. Charlie gasped placing her hands on her cheeks, "OMG! That's amazing!". (Y/N) smiled in relief, "Yeah. I guess it is".

"Who's your mom?" Charlie asked eagerly. "Oh, I don't have one," (Y/N) said rather casually. This made Charlie and Vaggie feel a bit bad, "Oh".

(Y/N) waved her hands, "Oh, it's not like that! I've never had one! You see most angels are typically created here in Heaven using stardust, which is how my father created me. He used his likeness and the female reference of Lilith - your mother. And thus, I was born".

"Oooh - that makes so much sense! Now, I understand why you look so familiar!" Charlie smiled at her newly found relative. She couldn't believe she had a cousin in Heaven. One so kind and beautiful.

(Y/N) was relieved at how fast Charlie accepted her. She was worried she might not be too fond of having an angelic relative.

Vaggie was a bit nervous to discover that (Y/N) was the daughter of a higher ranking angel, but it quickly went away when she saw how happy her and Charlie were talking to each other.

She's only known (Y/N) for a short while, but she truly believed the seraphim had no ill intentions towards them and genuinely wanted to get to know them.

In fact, (Y/N)'s personality reminded her a little of Charlie.

(Y/N) admired her cousin for her big heart and the confidence she had in her own dreams. She was ashamed to admit she was a little envious.

How she wished she could act on her dreams like her little cousin; but, Heaven would never allow it. Her father always had to remind her not to stray too far, or she might end up just like her uncle and aunt. . . Fallen.

This was why she had to always keep up appearances when she was in public. No one other than those closest to her knew of the dorky, cheerful, and quirky side of her personality. To everyone else she was poised, graceful, and elegant.

When Charlie had asked her about her dreams (Y/N) told her seraphims weren't allowed to dream, or at least have dreams that would go against Heaven's rules.

Despite trying to hide how much that bothered her, Charlie and Vaggie noticed the small shift in her behavior. They felt bad for her wishing Heaven could be more open minded.

(Y/N) quickly waved it off claiming she was okay and that she was used it. She understood her father just wanted to keep her safe and out of trouble.

Soon it was time for (Y/N) to go to avoid making her father suspicious of her whereabouts.

Before she left she and Charlie shared a tight loving hug. (Y/N) wished her good luck in her trial and that she would be rooting for her.

Hearing her cousin support her dream and wish her luck made Charlie feel a lot better about the trial.

Being around (Y/N) made her feel comfortable and safe. She felt familiar, which now makes sense seeing as the two were family.

Her dad couldn't be here, so it felt good knowing there was someone in her family here in Heaven who believed in her.

With those thoughts in mind, she was ready for the trial and positive she would change Heaven's mind and prove the hotel's credibility.

. . . Too bad things sometimes don't go as we hoped.

Taglist:

@soobryu @kyo-kyo1 @miyako-night20 @charliecharlie65 @unknow-sama @myluckymoon @lbcreations-blog @moonchaos18

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin charlie #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lilith #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel reader insert #charlie x vaggie

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

book 5 part 6 thoughts!!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 6 OF THE MAIN STORY!!***

If you’d like to watch a rough part-by-part summarized translation, please check out this archived stream!

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

Ew, we're starting off with another map segment... TWST REALLY WANTS TO TIMEGATE OUR TEARS, HUH

Yuu and gang are going to follow the night fae soldiers to Black Scale Castle beyond the mountains. They can't stay too far from the owner of the dream, Lilia! (If you'll remember, they're now taking Tamago-sama there for safety while Meleanor stays behind to fight the Silver Owls.)

Silver hasn't seen Sebek use his UM??? Sebek tells us he learned his UM when Silver got into NRC and Sebek was training by himself. He wanted to be able to rush to Malleus's side at a moment's notice. He knows it is able to turn his own body into lightning and then can use it to move and to attack. However, the spell will damage his body while using it since he has yet to reach mastery. Sebek can't use his magic to rush to Lilia and the others because he wouldn't be able to fight by the time he does.

... ISN'T HIS UM SIMILAR TO ROLLO'S.... JUST TRADE FIRE FOR LIGHTNING...

AW, SEBEK WASN'T PLANNING ON USING HIS SPELL UNTIL HE MASTERED IT... BUT HE STILL USED IT TO SAVE SILVER 😭

Oh, they finally asked the question we were all having. If Malleus made this dream with the intention of it being a happy ending, then why do only sad things happen in Lilia's dream??? Also, why did OB Malleus not come after them yet or kick them out of the dream??? Maybe there's a reason why Malleus can't supervise or enter Lilia's dream??

BAUL LEFT THEM MAGIC TO GUIDE THEM THE RIGHT WAY... HE TRUSTS US TO HELP THEM NOW

Baul fights with an axe. IS HE ABOUT TO HAND IT OVER TO SEBEK (Sebek seems to be holding one in his limited time card)????

Lilia "I won't forgive you if you die!" Vanrouge.

Not both grandpa and grandson volunteering to stay behind to fight and then catch up later... Sebek tells Silver to go ahead and protect Lilia, "You go and protect what is most precious to you. I'm going to protect what is precious to me," (Sebek about Baul) 😭 The night fae are so confused why a human would willingly help them... THI S IS SEBEK'S CHARACTER ARC

SEBEK PROVES HIMSELF A CAPABLE FIGHTER TO HIS GRANDPA!! His hair gets all messy like what's shown in his new SSR. It's raining as well (like in the card art), so this is likely the context for the illustration. The groovy artwork is of Sebek being knighted!!!

adgkuvaodv8yfefvyyeft8wen Sebek makes a big speech about wanting to be their strength!! BAUL ACKNOWLEDGES SEBEK BY NAME INSTEAD OF "HUMAN" AND GRANTS HIM A SOLDIER'S UNIFORM, SEBEK'S BEING OFFICIALLY KNIGHTED FOR THE BRIAR COUNTRY'S IMPERIAL GUARD AND GIVEN A NEW WEAPON... BAUL EVEN GIVES SEBEK HIS OWN CROCODILE MASK

Zigvolt family lore!! Baul doesn't get along with his human son-in-law, but never distanced himself from his grandchildren. When Baul's only daughter wanted to marry a human, they argued so much about it. To this day, he still doesn't particularly care for humans. Even so, Baul's house has a lot of storybooks and candy prepared for his mixed grandchildren. He won't open them warmly, but it's clear he loves his family.

Silver saves Lilia!! And then Lilia asks Silver to take the egg to Black Scale Castle in his place. There are too many human soldiers on their trail, and Lilia cannot fight them while holding the egg (plus he's already injured from previously protecting Silver at the easternmost fortress).

Yuu has to hold Tamago-sama...

Silver proceeds to carry Lilia like a baby in spite of Lilia saying he'd stay behind and distract the Silver Owls 🤡 NOT SILVER USING LILIA'S OWN TEACHINGS TO TELL DREAM!LILIA THEY STILL HAVE TO TRY AND SURVIVE

The mountains are called the "Forbidden Mountains" and it is said that this is where Maleficent once lived. If you are not blessed by the dragons, the lightning (according to legend) will strike you down. Beyond the mountain is Briar Country's capital city and Black Scale Castle.

Surprisingly, Silver suggests an ambush method (hide and strike at soldiers from behind when they've let their guard down). I guess NRC really did teach him how to be backhanded after all/j

Silver says maybe Malleus can't follow them since he wasn't born yet in Lilia's dream. Magic relies on imagination, and since Malleus cannot imagine what life was like before he was born... that's probably why he can't monitor these circumstances.

Would you look at that 💀 The first real time the story acknowledges that Yuu is in bodily danger; Silver Owls shoot arrows at Yuu because they're holding the egg. Grimmu protects us!! Baby... Best buddy...

SEBEK ARRIVING TO SAVE SILVER (aksldnbaksdbaydasl lol at Sebek being smug about his knighting and trying to act cool even though the lightning is definitely still hurting him...)

Silver Owls retreat!

Oh wow, so they see creeping black thorns similar to when Malleus OB'd; everyone suspects that maybe Meleanor Overblotted too.

Silver mentions that he lives near the Forbidden Mountains but has never climbed them before. The rocks there are very sharp and dangerously jut out. AW, Lilia gives Silver and Yuu his cloak to protect them from the rain and cold. Lilia says the mountain range is full of magic, so its restorative to fae, who draw power from nature.

The way they came from was sealed off by rocks... but Lilia fully intends to go back and help Meleanor...

THEY MADE IT TO THE CASTLE!! It's called Maleficia's castle; we have an official English spelling for Granny Draconia's name. Something, something, Lilia wants to prepare something called the "Cradle Tower".

WE CUT BACK TO WILD ROSE CASTLE

Like father, like son... The Dawn Knight seems remorseful and wonders where they went wrong, if everyone could have been friends if they had chosen some other way. He wants to dream of a world where all races can live together in peace. "One day, it won't be just a dream, it will be reality." It's phrased very similarly to the wish Lilia made in Wish Upon a Star!

The stormy weather clears up and the dawn makes way... IT'S A SIGN THAT THE DAWN KNIGHT PREVAILED AND MELEANOA'S MAGIC HAS DISAPPEARED... Lilia just lets out the most guttural cries... He says if he were stronger, he would have taken Meleanoa with him against her will, HE WASN'T ABLE TO KEEP HIS PROMISE TO PROTECT MELEANOR FOR HIM

I still want to see Mallemom's on-screen death though.

Side note: they force us to play through a scripted loss battle between the Dawn Knight and Meleanor 💀 Sick fucks on the dev team…

This is delicious content :)))))))) We're eatin' well, boiz

Uhhh okay so there are greenish spirits floating around; they're the senate??? Apparently they've already died but their spirits linger and serve as advisors.

… Idk why doesn’t Mallemom do this too???

NAUR, NOT THE SENATE BLAMING AND SHAMING LILIA, SAYING HE RAN AWAY AND LEFT HER TO DIE IN BATTLE... THEY CALL LILIA A MUTT AND BAT, JUST A DIRTY ORPHAN WHO CAN’T BE TRUSTED… AND THAT HE ISN'T FIT TO SERVE, THAT HE'S USELESS (this must really sting seeing as Lilia has insecurities about not being wanted 😭)

Baul defends Lilia's honor but Lilia still resigns from the Imperial Guard. HE'S TELLING THE SENATE T HEY CAN PUNISH HIM SO THEY FORBID HIM FROM STEPPING INTO THE CAPITAL AGAIN

The senate uses magic to take the egg away from Lilia AND LILIA SAYS GOODBYE TO MALLEUS BY NAME

"I'm not an Imperial Guard anymore, I don't need to follow orders" — Lilia (when Baul tells Lilia he still has a duty to hatch the egg). LILIA HAS GIVEN UP and that seems to have summoned the darkness of the dream to them. Lilia thinks Meleanor and/or Levan are in the darkness so he wants to "go there too".

When a general retires, they are gifted a lavish home near Black Scale Castle. Sebek says it now makes sense why Lilia lived humbly in a forest cottage far away from the capital. Silver says it must be why Lilia dislikes the atmosphere of the capital and why he never took Silver there.

In a flashforward, Lilia is asked to come back 10 years later. At this point, Tamago-sama has developed more sentience and is actively rejecting the love magic from everyone, even his grandmother. He has only been receiving magic for the first 5ish years or so. Maleficia had Baul act as a messenger to bring Lilia back for a special mission BECAUSE OTHERWISE MALLEUS WILL DIE WITHOUT IT.

Malleus’s egg is being kept in Cradle Tower! It keeps the egg safe and essential incubates it for the royal family.

Land of Briar becomes Briar Valley? The queen cannot always be with the egg because Briar Valley and its surrounding are lands are left in chaos after the war. Briar Valley fae specifically are not allowed in human territories.

Lilia is sent off on to find a way to fix the situation. He says he will see where dragons live in other continents and research. Omg, this must be how he started his travels and learned more about other races and their cultures 😭

“Don’t you dare die, Malleus” — Lilia (AND THE LOVING DEATH THREAT ACTUALLY MAKES THE EGG GLOW)

We see some of Lilia’s travels AND HE WAS IN THE CITY OF FLOWERS ON TOPSY TURVY DAY... The people there were friendly at first and worrying for his health until they realize he's a fairy, then they chase him out.

During one of his routine reports, Lilia is convinced by Baul to speak with Malleus's egg (which now glows green sometimes). Lilia shares stories of his travels with Malleus, trying to keep it positive for the baby to not make Malleus sad.

NEXT LILIA TRAVELED TO THE SCALDING SANDS, A MERCHANT IS ASKING IF HE WANTS TO BUY A MAGIC LAMP... Lilia learns about the importance of souvenirs as keepsakes from that merchant.

Okay, so it looks like between travels we're getting scenes of Lilia reporting back and telling Malleus about the place he most recently visited. He says that the Scalding Sands used to be such a small civilization but has since grown into a sprawling city. It's amazing what kind of progress humans can make.

Malleus is fussy and some days accepts magic, and other days he doesn't. Meleanor was also a really picky eater. Levan carries himself like an honors student but was the type to hide his veggies.

AW, HE SINGS MELEANOR'S LULLABY TO MALLEUS

Next Lilia visits some ruins...? It looks like a background from the Spectral Realm seen in Endless Halloween Night. Lilia says no one lives here, there is only furniture. No ghosts are mentioned though! He uses his UM for the first time here. Far Cry Cradle is probably going to be very useful for investigating ways to hatch a dragon's egg!

Lilia tells Malleus to come out of the egg, it must be boring just sleeping. He offers to read stories and change his diaper, tells Malleus his dad wants to meet him. Oh, and of course Lilia shares about his UM too! He tells Malleus that he went to the Land of Crimson Long.

Lilia ventures to Harveston!! An old man mistakes Lilia for a kid and takes him in, showing him warmth and kindness. He says he'll leave soon, but the old man and an old woman say he should stay until spring because the weather is harsh.

The lady notices Lilia is fae (but since time has passed, relations between fae and humans have improved a bit). No one is afraid of him here!! They apologize for mistaking him as a kid and want to share stories.

(Not confirmed but it could be interesting if these were Epel’s ancestors Lilia met… Rollo’s ancestors can be the ones running Lilia out of the City of Flowers www)

ABSHDBYOAFVYFAIAEUQRQEOUBFQ LILIA IS 430 AT THIS POINT BUT THAT NUMBER IS SO CLOSE TO 420 IT MAKES ME LAUGH

His feelings are changing... At 450 years old, Lilia tells Malleus that the world has changed so much and he has had the chance to visit many places. ahbyoaybadadB APPARENTLY PEOPLE USED TO THROW STONES AND ROCKS AT HIM.

Lilia says that fae may become things of the past, just creatures of fairy tales. But he doesn't want Malleus to be the main character of a fairy tale, forgotten by time. He wants Malleus to be able to see the world his parents weren’t able to see for themselves 😔

Another time skip, and it's come to a point where the egg is in critical condition. For 3 whole months it has been rejecting Maleficia's magic. The egg has since erected a lightning barrier to protect itself, even though its own heartbeat is growing weaker and weaker. (Malleus throwing another tantrum lol)

Lilia heard weird sounds but no one else could??? Is that a baby crying???? He tries to approach, but almost gets struck down many times.

Lilia realizes Malleus is crying because he's lonely. "Wait for me. I'm coming to you right now!" He gets hit by lightning, but perserves!

Lilia says he will offer his magic, even his lifespan (many fan theorists squealed now that this is confirmed), to Malleus if he needs it, and finally embraces the egg. (Physical contact like holding the egg is said to encourage magic absorption.)

TAMAGO-SAMA??????? 😭 HE SOUNDS LIKE A POKEMON… and he’s already blowing fire even though he’s freshly hatched???

WTF THOUGH BABY MALLEUS IS 1000000000000000000000x CUTER THAN GROWN UP MALLEUS 🫶 (I don’t like modern day Malleus’s looks at all www)

Silver understands why the dream is how it is, because it was all worth it for Lilia to finally meet Malleus. The moment of hatching has to be the happiest moment in Lilia’s life.

The senate shows up and starts praising Lilia as a hero.

OH????? Lilia seems to be waking????

HMMMM? this implies there’s limited suspension of disbelief each dreamer has 🤔 and if pushes past that threshold, then the dreamer is in a confused half awake state. Idia had these little moments of questioning his dream’s reality as well.

The senate’s voices distort, and they start shouting at Lilia for touching the prince, how it will be a scandal if a bat (… is Lilia a bat fae???) “dirties” the Draconias, etc. Mmmm, maybe this is the real reaction and the praising was part of the dream?? Since Lilia seemed to react strangely to being extolled. (I’m still over here wondering why their opinions hold so much weight compared to the queen; surely she would invite her friend Lilia back?? And doesn’t seem to blame him for the death of her daughter?)

Levan has a voice similar to Malleus, but lacks horns.

DVSUBILADUP9FFQEQFFAHAFBFEYBN OB MALLEUS JUMPSCARE, HE FINALLY MANAGED TO BREAK THROUGH INTO LILIA'S DREAM

Okay 😭 Lilia did in fact use his own life span so Malleus could hatch, and then Lilia had Maleficia swear to secrecy because he was concerned Malleus would blame himself. But it also feels like the senate purged or edited the records to hide the fact that Malleus hatched with Lilia’s love??

Malleus tries to convince Lilia to go back to sleep, to not feel pain. He says he can give Lilia a dream where the Draconias are still alive, a dream where Lilia can live peacefully, just take Malleus’s hand—

SILVER COMING IN CLUTCH, he and Sebek vow to break Malleus’s “blessing”. It’s this word that allows Lilia to fully awaken!!! ⏰ He’s so proud of Silver and Sebek…

They fight (well, Lilia distracts Malleus), then Silver uses his UM to hop into another dream.

They run into Ortho?! And then everyone is dropped off in front of Ignihyde.

FINALLY, SHROUD BROTHERS RETURN RIGHT AT THE VERY END!! I was wondering what they were doing while all this shit went down in Lilia's dream... It sounds like the next book 7 update will start off with Idia and Ortho, most likely told via flashback. I assume Ortho was able to help Idia wake up somehow?

This update felt like we got a lot of new lore!! But many of the events that played out were things we already had an inkling about prior to all of this (Meleanor dying, Lilia going on his travels eventually, Lilia helping Malleus hatch, etc.). It's nice to get the confirmation and to have the gaps of time inbetween filled in.

I really appreciate the story showing us just how hard Lilia's life was and then showing us just how important a nugget of happiness after all of that was so worth it for that moment. His VA did a stellar job with the voice acting this update, particularly the sobbing once Malleus hatched. I loved seeing Lilia's travels and how they gradually affected his own mindset over time... how he learned many different things from the people he encountered, and how he passed on that knowledge onto Malleus.

I liked seeing the origins of Lilia’s UM (he’s on a journey to find an answer)! Hearing about Sebek’s was also interesting; seeing as he’s a late bloomer with his magic and how he’s always competing with Silver, his UM manifested when Silver had been admitted to NRC and Sebek was training alone. I wonder if the UM also (in part) rose out of a feeling of inadequacy or feeling like he has to “catch up” to where Silver, Malleus, and Lilia are. No matter how hard it may be, he wants to push past his limits and serve as a knight. Maybe that, too, is why his UM prioritizes power and speed at his own body’s expense. It’s great seeing Sebek open up a little more and insist on fighting alongside fae; in modern day, Sebek has had to fight alongside humans. This is bridging the two sides of himself and helping him to reconcile with his own prejudices 😭

THE WHOLE DRAMA WITH THE SENATE MAKES ME UNDERSTAND WHY LILIA DROPPED THAT LINE ABOUT HISTORY BEING ALTERED OR REWRITTEN. It all makes so much sense now... Lilia himself (at least him hatching Malleus) was written out of history even though he did so much to help his country. He was so disliked, shunned, and shown animosity from the powers that be, and now he doesn't wish for that to happen to others, especially not to Malleus, the one good thing in his life and all that remained of the friends he lost along the way. You really see his teachings coming through in Silver and Sebek when they face off against OB Malleus towards the end. And the way I screeched when Lilia finally woke up after that...

The more I see OB Malleus, the more I get this skin-crawling feeling around him. I know the other OB boys have done arguably worse things (attempted murder, for example) but there's something so awful and insidious about the way Malleus speaks. He's intentionally gaslighting and manipulating others to just give in to his control, taking advantage of even Lilia at his lowest moments to dominate his thoughts. That's scary to think about... especially the dark inversion of Malleus urging Lilia to take his hand, when the game started off with a much more light-hearted and inviting "take my hand" offer.

Anyway!! I've been wondering for a long time what the Shrouds have been up to, and I'm so excited to see their story next update!!

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Idia Shroud #Diasomnia #Lilia Vanrouge #Silver #Sebek Zigvolt #Yuu #Grim #Ortho Shroud #Ignihyde #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #spoilers #notes from the writing raven #Bal Zigvolt #Baal Zigvolt #Baul Zigvolt #Dawn Knight #Heinrich #Levan Draconia #Meleanor Draconia #Rollo Flamme #Maleficent #Epel Felmier

[fatuismooches]

omg i just read a bunch of your work and it’s all so good???? it’s so rare to find imagines fanfic writers that are so clearly passionate about their work and it’s so awesome anyways i have a request !! i absolutely love your frail reader stuff… my health is kinda shit too so it’s really nice to read !! could i ask for dottore trying to attach an IV or help them but they’re scared of needles? dottore realizing they’re not scared of *him* but of just . the needle . and also being really really sweet and gentle while checking everything like vitals and whatnot since being checked up by a doctor puts them on edge usually . BASICALLY i’d looove to see dottore being sweet while working with a patient as opposed to . how he usually is 😭

Dottore is a man who finds himself fascinated by many things. Most obviously, his research. His experiments. The limits of a human being, the stars of this world, the truth of Teyvat. How far he could push himself and others to satiate his curiosity. 

And last but certainly not least, you, his darling.

…Who was now huddled in the corner of his lab, refusing to move. Why? Because it was time for you to receive your first shot. You had only recently woken up from sleeping for four hundred years, so he stuck to other forms of medicine rather than needles in the beginning. But it had gotten to the point where needle injections were necessary for your health. However, you certainly didn’t find this new information pleasing. 

You’d peek out, see him with that large pointy grin with a needle in hand, and then try to inch even closer to the wall as if you were trying to disappear into it as you whimpered. Now, Dottore finds you predictable and unpredictable at the same time. Predictable because being with you for centuries has certainly allowed his mind to adapt and memorize all of your little quirks and possible reactions. Unpredictable because there are always times he finds himself surprised and then mildly exasperated at your behavior. But that’s what he likes about you. You’re not a boring doll like his other test subjects.

But this reaction… once again, he supposes he expected it but he didn’t at the same time. Funnily enough, Dottore is no stranger to your little tantrums when it comes to taking care of your health. Some kind of bizarre reaction from you wasn’t out of the question because he remembers the first time you ran away from taking your medicine.

—

When you realized your life would consist of daily checkups, your body constantly being hooked up to a lot of different things you really didn’t understand, and a whole bunch of other changes, you thought you could do it. You really did. Sure, it wasn’t easy, and it was scary and confusing and you cried at how different you were now but, you were getting through every day and that was what mattered.

However, ironically, your greatest enemy in life became medicine.

You should be grateful really, to have Dottore as your doctor. Although he certainly wasn’t a doctor to his other “patients”, he most definitely was to you. And he was a terrific one - attentive beyond human capability (not even including his segments), skilled, knowledgeable, adaptable, and attractive was also a good bonus. Hell, if it were anyone else besides him, you’d long be dead.

But one thing you absolutely despise is his talent for making the hardest-to-swallow medicine known to mankind.

Dottore had given you lots of different types of medicine since you woke up, experimenting with which was the most efficient. Although he did study how other bodies reacted to it before it entered your own system, it really didn’t spare you any pain because you always ended up dreading it. It wasn’t fun, no, but you had accepted it as your routine. 

Pills weren’t fun, but at least they were a quick swallow after you finished hyping yourself up to drink it. And, they were small or medium-sized. No biggie, right? But then came one time when you were utterly tricked. When Dottore presented you with medicine that you could drink easily rather than a pill, you were ecstatic.  

The syrup medicine was a nice color and looked like it would taste fine! But no, you should have known that the Doctor was a deceiving son of a- you get the point. The medicine tasted absolutely horrible, violating your taste buds. You would have spat it out, but it was already almost down your throat. You were genuinely thankful that medicine ended up being unhelpful to you because you don’t think you could have managed to swallow that every day.

Despite how every time you moaned and whined about it, you would steel yourself and take it anyway because you didn’t want to make Dottore’s life any harder, with how diligently he was working on these medicines solely for your sake.

But at one point, you just couldn’t take it anymore. What caused you to snap?

A pill that Dottore presented to you, that looked big even on his large hand. He had looked at you expectantly, while you looked at him incredulously, as your lover then placed it in your hand and set the glass of water to the side for you.

Okay [Name], you’ve endured all these trials so far. Surely you can handle this? You took a deep breath, slowly working up the courage to swallow it as Dottore waited, curiously looking at you. With a burst of energy, you brought it to your mouth, intent on gulping it, but stopped last minute. Your bravery had left you, as you brought the pill back to the table again. There was no way, just no way that was going in your throat without getting stuck. Just the thought of it was making you feel sick and anxious.

“I’m not doing it.” Dottore sighed.

“We’ve been through this countless times, [Name],” he shook his head as he walked to his desk, prepared to gather some things to work on because he was familiar with your agonizing long waits of trying to force yourself to drink your medicine. “Either you take it yourself, or I will be more than happy to help you myself.” The methods Dottore takes to “help” you take your medicine can be left up to the imagination.

“You won’t need to help me… because I’m not drinking that!” In a flash, you had bolted out the door, leaving the doctor alone in the room, blinking and processing what just happened before he rubbed his temples. Never, not once have you run away from taking medicine. Yes, you whined and begged him to let you skip it, just for one day (which he never indulged you in) but in the end, you’d always give in to your fate. Dottore walked over and picked up the pill, examining it. Was it really that bad?

Well, no matter. You’ll end up taking it anyway. His harshness comes from a good place at least, it is for your own sake after all.

Although you did put up a good fight, you never really had any chance of escaping in the first place, considering your rather poor health and stamina (and this is Dottore after all, no one gets away from him). But you just needed to put off that blasted medicine for a while longer, which was why you found yourself in your current situation.

In a stand-off with Omega, who had come to collect you and bring you back to Prime’s office, so you could finally take the pill. Beta was there too, as he was supposed to be helping, but he looked to be amused by the whole thing. Pointy teeth showed through as he watched the whole show, hands in his pockets. 

The “show” in question was how you were hiding behind a random Fatui agent, using the poor man as a shield, his soul definitely having left his body by now. Every time the segment tried to come closer, you’d physically move the agent’s body to block him from you. And well, even they couldn’t just kill the man like that. It would be quite funny, were it not for the fact that Omega was beginning to grow impatient and mildly annoyed that the other Fatuis were watching this go down. Not to mention the back and forth you two were having about how important it was for you to take the pill, versus your numerous arguments as to why you weren’t. Beta was just there cackling at the older segment’s predicament. But then all of a sudden, Omega backed off with a smile, giving you a chance to escape once again. Yes, you turned around, ready to dash for it, and then ran right into a solid wall.

There Prime Dottore stood, looking down at you with an unamused expression, at this little cat and mouse game. He didn’t really want to show this level of affection to you in front of the other agents, but he had no choice but to grab you and pick you up in his arms so you couldn’t run away anymore.

The other Fatuis could only stare at the scene, you kicking and flailing your arms, vehemently repeating how you weren’t going to drink that blasted thing, and about how evil and cruel he was. Eventually, he was able to make you swallow the pill, with the help of his other segments holding you down.

In the end, he had to ditch that pill because the struggle and tears you put up after that just weren’t worth it when there were better alternatives.

—

However, at least this time you didn’t run away. Instead, perhaps you thought holing up miserably in the corner would somehow make him sympathize with you and that he wouldn’t give you the needle. Unfortunately, you were incorrect. Dottore’s patients are to receive whatever treatment he deems necessary, even if it is you. Nevertheless, you are indeed a special patient. A special patient who receives special treatment, both medically and emotionally. So, it does make him feel a tiny bit sorry for you, seeing how scared you were. 

Though a part of him wonders, are you truly that afraid of a mere needle? Perhaps because he works with it every day, he cannot see how it could cause that much nervousness. Was it because of how he used it on others? Of course, you were no stranger to his less-than-ethical experiments on other people. But surely you knew that you wouldn’t be subjected to such conduct? Dottore ponders for a little while as you continue to crouch in fear. He wonders if he taught Zandy how to use the needle if that would make it less scary for you. But on second thought, you would probably get mad at him for trying to do that to his child segment.

But regardless of what either of you thought, you were getting that injection.

“[Name],” For once, his voice isn’t the normal tone that he takes on when you’re being difficult. So you lift your head and your eyes peek out from your knees as you pout at him. Dottore had set the needle to the side and walked closer to you, reaching his hand out to you, expecting you to get up and take it. With a sigh, you acquiesce and clasp your hand with his as he pulls you from the ground. Though you keep your eyes on the floor and your shoulders drooped, because you know that your fate is imminent. But Dottore tilts your chin so you’re forced to look up at him anyway.

“Why are you so insistent on acting like this?” Your partner questions.

“Because needles are scary,” you whine.

“But I am the one administering it. Nothing will happen.”

“Well, obviously I trust you,” you sigh in defeat. “I know you’d never hurt me. But that doesn’t make needles any less scary. And no matter what you say, I know I’ll still feel that prick of pain! I really don’t want it, Zandik!” You look up at him with pleading eyes. His fingers stroking your hair feels nice but it does little to relieve you of your anxiety. At that, Dottore merely stares for a few seconds before he pulls you to the operating table and helps you up. Well, at least you attempted to change his mind, you thought as you resigned yourself to the pain. You squeeze your eyes and tense your body, preparing for the inevitable prick, but instead, you feel hands slipping down your shirt and cool metal being pressed against your chest. Your eyes pop open as you turn to narrow your eyebrows at Dottore.

“What about the needle?”

“Forget about it. I will handle it another day,” Dottore waves off your concern, and all the stiffness in your body releases. Oh, you were so, so grateful. 

“Now breathe in for me,” Dottore requested. “And out. In. Out.” You did what he asked and he hummed as he recorded your heart rate or whatever he usually does, before moving to your back and repeating the same process. You liked how his hands felt on your body. They weren’t rough, uncharacteristically gentle even. Even though right now it was just professional procedures, it felt comforting. His hands always felt comforting.

Now that you think about it, although it sounds entirely untrue, Dottore was… the only doctor you had good experiences with. When you were a kid, you really didn’t like them. They usually… put you on edge. Unlike most children, the promise of candy did little to stop you from getting antsy during a check-up, and even the nicest doctors had their patience tested. But Dottore and the segments, well, despite their… tendencies, they did make you feel a lot better with your condition and all. It was really nice, to have people who wouldn’t give up on you or your health since you’ve been given up on in the past.

“I’ve heard that Alpha has been showing you the collection of Khaenri’ahn machines lately,” Dottore’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was fiddling with the variety of tools he used for the check-up.

“Hm? Oh yeah, we have!” Dottore moved to examine both ears as you spoke. “I mean, studying Teyvat’s new language all the time gets so boring. So I just make him show me the cool stuff during breaks!” Although Zandik’s fascination with the machines was much greater than yours in the Akademiya, his enthusiasm had rubbed off on you too and you found yourself intrigued as well. One thing that had never changed though, was his habit of dumping all his thoughts on you. Seriously, once you got Alpha talking, he wouldn’t stop until every detail of his research had been covered. It was cute. It reminded you of how Zandik used to do the same thing late at night.

“Is that so?” Dottore had moved to check your eye, shining the light at it.

“Mhm! You know, seeing all the things you know now, makes me think back to how much you searched for answers all those years ago. Pushing and pulling me all those places,” you smiled, thinking about how you were always dragged to all parts of Sumeru for him to quench his thirst by hopefully obtaining fruitful results from the expeditions. It was tiring, but good times. You wished you could go back. Dottore then tapped your lips and you opened your mouth as he briefly examined it before returning to his clipboard. For some reason, you feel as though this check-up is dragging on a lot more than usual, but you didn’t really question it because why would you question spending more time with your beloved?

“Yes, and you never failed to complain, did you? You grumbled more than you spoke about the data,” Dottore replied as he continued to do whatever other tests on you before he pulled up your sleeve to wrap the cuff around your arm to check your blood pressure. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re lying! I always engaged in conversation with our research,” you stuck your tongue out at him. “I always pulled my weight! Maybe you were too busy mumbling to yourself and spilling ink everywhere instead of listening to me.” Zandik had a habit of that. Getting too lost in his thoughts and leaving you to babble like an idiot when he wasn’t even paying attention. Dottore only chuckled as he continued to work, pumping the device. You didn’t even notice that he was also preparing a needle with his other hand, because you continued to ramble on.

“And you know what, you were always far worse. In the beginning, you were either talking about research all the time, or complaining about others, or complaining about me.” Just because Dottore was all suave and smooth and poised now didn’t mean you forgot about how much he was not anything of those things back then! The more you reminisced about it, the memories of being slightly infuriated by his attitude came rushing back. So much so that you didn’t register the cuff being swiftly removed from your arm, nor the feeling of Dottore adjusting your arm and the prick of something being injected into you. 

“And!! Pantalone always tells me how much you complain to him about not only the budget but also a wide variety of things! And Bina too, I’ve heard numerous stories of those poor agents falling victim to you, hmph,” you awaited a response but Dottore didn’t humor you like he usually did. So you turned to look at him, but instead, he was carefully placing a bandage on you. You blinked once at the sight, then at him, and then at the empty needle on the tray, the contents empty. It didn’t take long for your brain to process what happened.

“You… you tricked me! You said I wasn’t going to get the needle!” You fussed but Dottore only smirked, his sharp shark-like teeth on display.

“Yes, I did. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? Did you feel any pain?”

“Well…” He was right, you didn’t feel a thing. With all the conversation and his quick yet efficient fingers, the needle didn’t hurt. Ugh, so that was Dottore’s plan… getting you all riled up and distracted so he could finish the job. It was sneaky… but as you tenderly brushed the injection site that was a little sore, you were oddly touched… it was sweet. He didn’t need to go out of his way to do this. Really, another large pill situation could have happened.

“No, you didn’t,” Dottore finished the sentence for you before rolling down your sleeve and cleaning up the area. “There was no need for such drama in the first place. I told you that it would be fine.” You pouted at his bluntness. It was a bit mean, but he lived up to his word. You should have expected that. He always does, when it comes to you. “You have to stay here for a bit. I need to see if the shot will have any immediate adverse effects on you.”

“O-Okay,” you replied, still a bit dazed by how Dottore managed to do that. You wondered, just… how quick were his hands?? Then he placed a kiss on your lips, catching you off guard once again, but he pulled away before you could reciprocate. Ah, it was probably his way of saying ‘well done.’

“H-Hey, don’t just walk away! I deserve more kisses for the ordeal I just went through! Come back here!”

Dottore ended up giving you lots of kisses everywhere as he pinned you down on the operating table. If all check-ups ended like this one did, well, you’d look forward to them a lot more…

—

Bonus:

“Dottore?”

“Yes, [Name]?”

“Can you make them… gummy?”

“Make what gummy?” A few seconds of staring at you makes it click in his head. “No.”

“Please!!” Immediately you pull out your best pleading eyes with a pouting lip, having no shame in dropping to your knees and wrapping your arm around his leg in the tightest grip you could muster. “Please, if it were gummies instead of actual pills or needles, I’d never complain!” Dottore sighs, trying to shake you off but to no avail. It seems you’re dead set on this. 

“At least some of them, please, I’ll do anything.” By this point, your face is buried into his leg, all but begging for him to make medicine that is gummy. It was so ridiculous it would make him laugh, but the idea of him and his segments having to not go through the unthinkable in order for you to take your medicine is honestly quite appealing to the doctor.

“Alright,” he complies, which causes you to shoot up from the ground and grasp his hands with glee. “I will experiment to see what I can do.” You smile widely before thanking him profusely and kissing his cheeks and then his lips. Although he enjoys your affection, Dottore finds himself wondering if you’re okay yourself, because who gets this excited over gummies for medicine? And then he hears your next question.

“Can you make them different flavors too? And oh, gummy bear-shaped too! By the way, my favorite flavor is-”

“[Name].”

“I’m sorry.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore fluff #dottore angst #genshin dottore x reader #genshin dottore #genshin impact il dottore #genshin il dottore #il dottore #dottore #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers #zandik x reader #genshin impact zandik #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x you #divider by cafekitsune #fragile reader <3 #hi this request was sent like. a whole year ago bUT IT WAS SO CUTE i had to write it

[explodo-smash]

End of manga sees Izuku create his own 'vestige realm' (theory)

[Originally written on Twitter by @wolvesandvisions]

This theory was something I'd kept close to my chest for some years now that I think may actually have the potential of coming to fruition.

I believe by the end of the manga Izuku is going to have created his own 'vestige world'. Alongside letting go of OFA, the “cursed” power, we'll see the birth of a new society. This will indicate the birth of truly making his power, his heroism, his own.

What we’re witnessing in the manga at the moment is the complete destruction of OFA as we know it. In a metaphorical sense and in the visual sense that Yoichi and the other holder’s prison is literally falling apart thanks to Shigaraki.

Now something I noticed, is that this visual of a park we kept seeing All Might at, I think may be the same one in the manga Chapter 96 (2016), redrawn in the anime, and referenced to again in an art by Umakoshi at Comiket (2019).

It keeps coming up. The chapter 96 version of this page reads as translated: “I wish that we could always sit and bask under the soft light filtering through the trees…☆Inherited spirit and pride!”

Izuku and Katsuki have absolutely inherited the spirit and pride of All Might, they are both the start of this new era. However, Izuku is the one with the burdens and wills of 9 people on his shoulder right now. At the end of the day… OFA is cursed, it can't stay the way it is.

Whether he’s quirkless by the end, or gets some crazy new power, the removal of OFA is also the removal of the curse/burden.

He needs to be able to be a hero on his own terms, without the beck and call of other people’s expectations in his ears. That’s why I think symbolically him truly “making the power his own” will entail him creating something entirely new with it.

@kikibats' language when I shared with her actually surmised it well:

“The part that’s OFA and AFO connected crumbles away, but Izuku’s own realm stays.”

And Chapter 412 just happened to give a ton of supporting information for this potential.

1) The idea that Izuku sees a correlation in ‘being without a personality’ and not having a human heart. His ability to overcome his feelings of worthlessness.

[X]

Choosing to believe in himself and others beyond that assertion IS his power.

2) Another thanks to @kaname_clan and @kikibats who helped me get a greater understanding of this; what we may be witnessing with Star and Stripes - and these odd lines - are Izuku “going beyond singularity”.

Which from my current understanding is the function of generational quirks becoming “too strong” or going beyond what the average human can take on the body.

Izuku appears to be on the verge of death, a big theme in this final arc of the manga has been everyone getting their quirk awakening. So far, every character but him has gotten one. He obviously got one in the most literal sense, but all of OFA’s various quirks aren’t his.

OFA, bless his heart, is like a series of hand-me-downs that in all his brilliance he made work for him. However...in a series about generational trauma, responsibility, and heroism, I think it's really his turn to overcome all of this.

I think the release of OFA will allow him to have a “quirk” awakening. The “awakening” of his personality, individuality, his heroism. And I do think this may visualize itself in his origins manifesting in that same park under the tree.

This is just what I'm thinking! Being hit with that visual of the park metaphorically or literally since 2016 has my eyes wide open...so we'll see!

#my hero academia #mha #katsuki bakugou #midoriya izuku #yagi toshinori #all might #bakudeku #bkdk #OFA #meta #mod shouto

[defaulttwig]

Still Waters

Neteyam x gn!reader

Summary: As a human, you stand out among the Na’vi, more so now that you’ve arrived at the Metkayina village, where no humans are around. You’re treated differently, like some spectacle, and Neteyam comforts you when all the teasing gets to you.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: none, puppy love, tiny bit of angst, fluff

A/N: Ending/Starting the year right with Avatar! My limited research might be dog ass and I forgot how to write so lollll brush over any mistakes I made. (This is more platonic but I guess could be romantic too)

“What else do you know?”

  Neteyam fell silent. He hummed once, sinking deep into his thoughts while he flexed his hands. He’d start one sign before stopping himself, as if he forgot all he learned, like a nonverbal form of stuttering. He racked his mind for a phrase, anything to say that would impress you. Not that it would be a challenge, but he also wanted to stick to simple phrases, things that you could remember and understand easily. It was endearing, really, how quickly he took to the role of teacher for you. 

  In the meantime, you looked down at your ankles, watching the water ripple and shift with every step you took. Still unfamiliar with the area, you kept to the outskirts of the village, walking along the shore. Despite your proximity to the village, the beauty here stole your breath. From the unique design of the village to the crystal reflection of the sun bouncing off the water’s surface. The water itself stretched far beyond the seawall bordering the reef, touching the horizon. Where the sky and sea became one, endlessly blue like the Na’vi you walked among. 

  Months had gone by since the Sully family left the Omaticaya clan. To you, a lifetime had passed before you heard anything from them, and it was when Norm received word of Kiri’s seizure. Of course, being close friends with the Sully children, you just had to see them. Norm hadn’t been keen to bring you along, but your admittedly immature begging and the stress of an immediate departure prompted him to give permission if only so he could finish packing gear without you delaying him precious seconds. Besides, another pair of hands on board to mule around gear didn’t hurt.

  Kiri was overjoyed to have you, squeezing you in a tight hug when she got the chance. She wasn’t the only one. All the Sully children swarmed you, asking about the clan and talking over each other to fill you in on everything they’ve been up to. It was quite the scene, their tails whipping excitedly while all of you bounced around each other, just so happy to be reunited.

  Days had passed since your arrival. You were lucky to spend more time with them, if not for the reason that Norm wished to monitor Kiri for the time being. Just to ensure she was stable. And then, you would leave with Norm. As much as it made you and the others sad to separate again, you’d been on the fence about their offer. They proposed that you stay with them in the village. An idea like that would take convincing from their parents and Norm, but together your big pouty faces would win them over. It was just that…despite the beauty and lack of danger from the RDA, you faced a different annoyance here. One you wouldn’t want to endure if you did stay.

  Your thoughts come to a halt when a prickly feeling tingled up your spine, sensing that you were being watched. You looked up and, in the distance, found a Metkayina child no taller than Tuk staring at you. Their face betrayed the wonder and distaste they felt about you. You locked eyes with them, even as another child approached them. Their ears twitched as the other whispered something and pointed at you indiscreetly. Their faces scrunched and they giggled to themselves. 

  A tightness squeezed your insides at their staring and blatant disregard for you. You hunched your shoulders in a poor attempt to make yourself invisible. Slowing your pace, you let Neteyam’s body dwarf you, acting as a wall to hide you from their gaze. You couldn’t shake the feeling that they still stared, even if their view was blocked. Looking back to the water as you walked calmly, you tried to preoccupy your mind with it.

  “There’s this one,” Neteyam said, prompting you to look up at him. His wide, cat-like eyes locked onto yours, making sure you paid attention. Then, moving his hands as he would in conversation, he translated for you. “Breathe.”

  You frowned. The purpose of their sign language was to communicate underwater. Why would they need to know how to say that? Or, maybe there was a reason but your negative thoughts wouldn’t let you think straight. “Underwater?”

  “Not exactly. More like saying to calm your heart.” Neteyam laid his hand on his stomach and demonstrated a long inhale. “To stay underwater longer, you need to relax.” He inhaled deeply through his nose and parted his lips, exhaling slowly. You watched his shoulders fall in tandem with his breath. With a smile, he pointed at your exopack. “Not that you need to worry about holding your breath.”

  Just as you were about to tease him, or brag about your one advantage underwater, you spotted the turquoise skin of a Metkayina in your peripheral vision. You pursed your lips and looked ahead to find a teen boy approaching you with a group following close behind. Neteyam saw them the same time you did, both of you stopping when they stood in front of you. To have all their eyes on you filled you with unease. You inched closer to Neteyam for the small amount of comfort his presence would provide.

  In your short time here, you learned quickly that the Metkayina here had rarely seen a human, if ever. The adults avoided you when they could and their tolerance had been understandable if a little hurtful. It was the younger ones, curious and rebellious to their parents' demands to stay away, that truly made you think twice about staying with the Sullys. They were overt in their distaste for your very existence. Compared to them, you were petite, weaker, and fragile. A rather lame alien. The coarse sound exerted from the exopack recycling oxygen reminded you of that.

  The apparent leader of the small group looked you up and down. He seemed to like that he looked down on you with his taller height. However, he didn’t address you like you were afraid he would. His eyes swept over to Neteyam, who watched him warily. “I didn’t know you had a pet.”

  Neteyam’s chin inclined in your direction. “My friend has a name and is no pet.”

  A Metkayina, who you didn’t realize was beside you, had crouched to touch your mask. “Does it bite?”

  “Hey!” You jerked away from her. Who knew if she would try to rip your mask off. She was smaller than Neteyam but still much taller than you. In your attempt to get away from her, you backed into another Metkayina about your height, who pinched your arm. You yelped and Neteyam, quick as a whip, whirled around as you backed into his personal space to escape the touches.

  His arm extended in front of you immediately, a sign to not touch. “Leave us alone.” He swiveled a hard stare at all of them before setting his hand on your shoulder. It was more so an attempt to ground himself than you. He didn’t want to resort to aggression unless they came any closer. “This isn’t a spectacle.”

  “It’s a tiny alien.” Someone in the back laughed. “Do you not see how weird it is?”

  Neteyam’s grip on your shoulder tightened a fraction. “You’re the weird ones. Go bother someone else.”

  Another muttered in the background, “I’m surprised it knows our language.”

  “It’s funny looking. Kind of ugly.”

  When none of them would budge, a few muttering amongst themselves rather demeaning and hurtful things that you heard, Neteyam fixed their unofficial leader with a look. The boy challenged him with a narrow of his eyes but Neteyam squared his shoulders, muscles taut and ready to make a point. If it had to come down to aggression for your sake, Neteyam might disobey his father just once. You watched the wheels turn in the leader’s mind, weighing the worth of a fight over a dumb alien.

  He scoffed and turned his head. “Whatever. It’s not worth it.”

  He stepped back, gaining the attention of his group. They all copied him, edging away from you. Finally, you could breathe again, free from their invasive closeness. You took a step away from Neteyam, allowing him his space. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, keeping his body facing toward the group.

  A high-pitched voice called your name. Turning on your heel, your eyes locked onto the frantic waving of Tuk. She stood on the other end of the shore, a distance away from you two. With her were Tsireya, Kiri, and Lo’ak, all of them in waist-deep water. Further from them, you spotted Tsireya’s brother, whose name you sort of forgot, and his friend on a pair of ilu. Tuk smiled and waved even more when she realized she had your attention. You waved back.

  Neteyam gestured once with his head. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  You took the lead. Neteyam walked two steps behind you, keeping a watchful eye on the group. They seemed to disperse into little clusters by then, all glancing your way every so often. Their not-so-quiet whispers fluttered your way, not kind by any means. The laughter that followed made your face turn sour.

  Neteyam nudged you with his elbow. “Ignore them.”

  When you’d reached your friends, Tuk looked past you at where the scene took place. “What was that about?”

  Kiri shared a look with you. For her sister’s sake, she kept quiet. Lo’ak, however, frowned. Like his brother, he was contemptuous on your behalf. 

  “Didn’t look like a friendly meet-up,” he said.

  Neteyam only shook his head at his brother.

  Tsireya looked between all of you, a sad smile on her face. “Ignore them. They are merely curious, even if they handle themselves poorly. They’ll get used to you in time.”

  Tuk bounced to get your attention back to her. “We are going to take our ilu for a ride. Do you want to join us?”

  You put on a smile, trying to mimic her excitement. “Of course.”

  Sure, you were one big spectacle and had to endure the staring, but it wouldn’t stop you from enjoying the beauty of the reef people. Everything was so new and different. You followed your friends deeper into the water as they called for their mounts, waiting for Neteyam to mount his ilu before you took your place behind him.

  With an okay from you, everyone took off. You held tight to Neteyam as his ilu cut through the water at high speeds. Your head lay on his back as you tried to let go of your worries. All the things said about you, the weird stares, you let them roll off your back, leaving them behind in the water as the ilu swam on. If only it were as easy as swimming.

  Some things just don’t sink. They resurface.

  +:+:+:+:+

  If not accompanied by a Sully member or even hidden in the safety of their pod, you were subjected to prodding and teasing. Neteyam may have told them off (and Lo’ak may have been ready to get his hands dirty, if not for you latching onto him to keep his hands to himself) but that didn’t stop them when you were alone. You had no one to protect you, but you couldn’t be a burden and hide behind Neteyam forever. He had enough to worry about, you didn’t need to be another weight on his shoulders.

  You wanted to understand, you really did. Looking from yourself to them, you were an outsider. At least the Sully family were Na’vi. You were human; smaller, not even blue, and you were physically weaker than even a young Na’vi. You were beyond different and that sort of thing prompted strong emotions. Curiosity, fear, hate. Given how other humans handled their time on Pandora, you couldn’t blame them.

  But your being alone made you an easy target. Humans in great numbers were a threat. A single human, however, could not do much against the Na’vi. You had to deal with their nasty teasing and rudeness. It weighed heavy on your heart. Maybe you would leave with Norm when the time came. 

  “I thought I’d find you out here.”

  You nearly sank underwater, losing your concentration momentarily. Turning your head, you foundNeteyam standing over where you floated. Of course, where the water was deep for you, it only reached his chest. You considered how he snuck up on you. Ripples of water calm and hardly disturbed, you imagined he’d adapted well to life on the reef.

  You did a backstroke, putting a bit of distance between you. “What are you doing out here?”

  “I could ask the same of you.” He inched further into the water, pushing up on his arms when he could no longer touch the floor. You continued to swim away from him slowly, but he still gravitated to you. “It’s late.”

  “Your parents will freak when they find you missing.”

  “Maybe.” He made a half attempt to shrug in the water. His eyes looked past you for a moment before he swam ahead, causing you to turn to keep an eye on him. “Want to see something?”

  Neteyam waited no longer than three seconds, already knowing your answer. Taking one big breath, he dove underwater. You flipped onto your stomach, looking into the water with the protection of your exopack. There he was, swimming away from the shallows, deeper into the reef. That didn’t pull your attention though.

  You’d seen it before, from the surface, but the bioluminescence of aquatic life stole your breath. Neteyam’s alien freckles glowed along his skin. He was one with the environment, looking all the more like he belonged. More than you, who probably looked like a human blob shape up on the surface. He flipped around and looked up at you, waving for you to come down. Even if you couldn’t glow in the dark, surrounding yourself with glowing fauna underwater seemed fun.

  You inverted your body, cutting through the water with each stroke of your arms. Propelling toward Neteyam, you focused on the glow of his freckles as he floated in place watching you. When you neared, he continued down until you were both far enough from the shallow waters before floating listlessly on the ocean floor. You joined his side, close enough that you can speak.

  “What-” A blur of color entered your peripheral and you flinched. 

  Your head snapped in its direction and a school of fish smaller than your hand swam past. Their bodies, striped in a glow of orange and purple, wiggled between you two to a destination only they knew. One’s eye lazily locks onto you before facing forward. You waved your hands through the water, using the movement to keep you in one place as you watched the fish.

  Neteyam only smiled at you from the other side. When the school of fish had passed, he waved for you to follow once more. At a pace that you could keep to his side without much effort, he directed you past all sorts of bioluminescent flora and fauna.

  Approaching a bed of anemones, you watched their tendrils sway gently. Undisturbed. One fish had dared to come out of the tendrils, only to dart back to its shelter at the sight of you. Even still, the tendrils danced to the rhythm of the sea, unbothered by your presence, unlike its small inhabitants.

  You spun around to say something to Neteyam, only to find him missing. You twisted in a circle, confused. Daring to look up, a dark silhouette with white dots swam to the surface. You brought your arms over your head and propelled yourself up.

  He remained above to catch his breath, kicking languidly to stay afloat. The movement of his tail appeared stiff in the water, you realized. It did not move on its own, but rather with the current of the water. When you’d gotten halfway up, he dove back down. Neteyam swam your way and you stopped. Except, he brushed past you with a wave.

  You whirled around and down. “Wait, Neteyam.” Confusion laced your voice.

  Your friend only looked over his shoulder before swimming on.

  You huffed and repositioned yourself to hurry after him.

  In your attempt to catch up to him, he swam faster. Despite him not being built for the water, you were even less equipped. Your arms and legs ached for a break, for which you attempted to get his attention. Just when you thought you had him, he slowed to turn around and face you.

  “Finally,” you breathed out a little too early.

  There was mirth in his eyes as he smiled toothily for a brief moment. Whatever he was about to do, you wanted no part of it. You shook your head. He nodded. You reached out to stop him but he swam in reverse. When you tried again, he swam around a large coral structure, momentarily putting it between you.

  It became a game, him trying to keep away. You chased after him, kicking off sturdy coral and rocks for an advantage, but he’d managed to skim by every time, narrowly avoiding your clutches. The one time you’d reached out, barely grasping his tail. You hadn’t meant to, letting go the moment there was a pull. He whipped around and faced you with your hands up in surrender. Then, with his hands raised in warning, he slowly inched toward you. The nerves of the role reversal had a laugh bubble in your throat.

  And so, you swam away from him. The aches were long forgotten, you’d frantically kicked and cut through the water to put distance between you two. You’d gone in circles, the reef now your obstacle course. A school of fish, larger than the ones before, swam at you. It’d been a mistake to stop and put your arms up in defense.

  The group split in half and swam around you. Your moment of hesitation was more than enough for Neteyam to catch up. With another anxious laugh, you’d tried to swim away, but he’d grabbed you. He spun you widely to the side, earning a laugh once he’d let go. You floated to a stop, giggles lowering to silence.

  Neteyam looked you in the eye. His face turned serious. You dropped your act too, brows now furrowed. It was then that you realized how much the exopack had suctioned to your face while underwater from the pressure.

  “What’s wrong,” you asked.

  He made a series of signs with his hands, not that you’d understand. Though, thanks to his short and simple lessons of what he knew, you picked up one word. Sad. The dots had connected in your mind. He was asking about earlier, how you’ve been just that after your arrival. Sad.

  You denied it outright with a shake of your head. If you feigned ignorance, maybe this conversation wouldn’t have happened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not sad.”

  His head tilted with furrowed brows in a show of disbelief. He repeated that specific sign again with a firm nod. Sad. You are sad, was what you interpreted. And maybe he was right but you felt silly and lame about why. You open your mouth to deny again but are disrupted by a lone fish swimming past. It’s all alone.

  You tear your gaze from the fish and sigh, sinking low until your feet touch down on some sea grass. It brought a shiver up your back but you didn’t care enough to move away. “Maybe I am sad, a little, but it’s nothing.” No, you thought to yourself, now that you started. It was something, something that affected you deeply. You frowned. “I’m different. I’m a human. Back home I have other humans and the clan is nice but here I’m looked down on and I feel so alone.”

  You reached out and grabbed one of his hands for emphasis, holding it up beside your own. In doing so, you distracted yourself. Your eyes settled on the shape of his hand, the size of it compared to your own. Your voice grew quiet as you curled your fingers into your hand. “I wish I was like you. It’s hard being different. A completely different alien species. I don’t think I should stay here.”

  Neteyam pulled his hand back and said more that you didn’t catch. You shook your head to tell him as such, catching the word ‘time.’ He had to have said something about them taking time to get to know you. To get used to you.

  You bristled then. Time was indefinite and abstract. It could take weeks, months, or years. All thoughts of how the Metkayina thought of you warped your understanding of the Omaticayans and their kindness. Maybe they saw you as an animal too, like a wild pet. Maybe they liked the other humans but not you.

  Neteyam lifted his hand and touched his fingers to his forehead. You lost focus, unattentive to his next move. Instead, you ranted, muttered, rambled a tangent of unkind thoughts, and connected dots that wouldn’t be there if you were in a rational state. You’d endured too much of the mean-spirited teasing.

  You took to floating again, waving your limbs about to expel your anger as you ranted. In doing so, your body jerked suddenly. Something slimy wrapped around your ankle. You snapped your head down, finding that your kicking managed to get your foot tangled in seagrass. You thrashed your foot, unable to get it out.

  Before you could fall into a self-afflicted rage, Neteyam touched your shoulder. He swam down and gently took hold of your ankle, effectively ceasing your kicking. Then, he tugged on the seagrass, ripping it off of you bit by bit. You watched as he did so, falling silent. By the time he freed your foot, you’d lost your anger, doused by the sounds of your exopack, the water, and the gentleness and care Neteyam regarded you with.

  You locked eyes with him. He reached up for his forehead once again with a soft expression before he paused. His fingers touched his throat and he pointed up. He wanted to go up for air. You nodded and, this time swam up with him.

  He breached the surface first. Your head popped up shortly after, the hiss of your exopack’s reserves undermined by the deep inhales Neteyam took. He blinked several times as he caught his breath, his ears flicking oddly. All the while he kept eye contact with you, a glint of emotion passing over his normally passive face.

  Neteyam swam closer. He blurted breathlessly, “I see you.”

  You froze, forgetting how to swim for a moment. Your head ducked underwater before your body went on autopilot, aching limbs propelling you up to the surface once again. Your eyes widened to the size of saucers. You heard him wrong.

  “I see you,” he repeated firmly, confident in his own voice.

  Your face underwent a myriad of emotions. Wide-eyed in disbelief to furrowing your brows. Face twisting and morphing until your expression softened. He saw you. 

  Hearing Neteyam say that removed all your woes. Sure, you still cared how the Metkayinans treated you but Neteyam managed to drive away most of your negative thoughts with three simple words. You floated with the water, and your body was more relaxed than your underwater tantrum. You were seen, difference and all, for better or worse. You had no need to be paranoid or vie for validation and acceptance by everyone when you had Nete.

  You were seen. You were here before him, perceived with nothing but care. He accepted you and for that you trusted him. Closing your eyes, your cheeks pulled taut from your growing smile. “I am here,” you said. All of what you were stood, or floated, right before him, seen for the human you were and welcomed. He and his family had always and will forever welcome you as one of their own.

  You opened your eyes feeling lighter than air, but not from the water. “Thank you, Nete. And I see you.”

  You saw your differences. His blue skin, his height, all the physical discrepancies that made you unique. Different but not unwelcome. 

  Neteyam swam closer as he opened his mouth to say more, but a single clap made you both whip your heads.

  Jake stood by the edge of the dock, staring down at you both. “What are you two doing out this late?” His voice carried that disciplinary undertone of a concerned father. “I thought something happened to you.”

  Neteyam lowered his head in some form of a bow. “Sorry, sir.”

  “Out of the water, both of you.” He shook his head.

  Neteyam swam first. Following him, you two cut through the calm waters until you climbed up the dock. Jake stood waiting while you adjusted your exopack. Now that you were on the surface, its suction had become a bother for you. You loosened the straps of your mask by a hair, the suction now less abrasive to your skin.

  The older Na’vi had you two walk in front of him back to the family pod. Until you and Neteyam were both in your respective hammocks, then he climbed into his own and turned his back to you. You flipped onto your side and shared a look with Neteyam. He gave a small smile before closing his eyes. You followed his example, falling asleep soon after.

  In the morning, you would agree to the Sullys proposal. You wanted to stay with them.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam imagine #neteyam fanfiction #avatar x reader

[plantsjustwannahavefun]

I keep seeing so many people here getting angry that this season is "vilifying Ed", and it's depressingly fascinating to see how others can watch the same show and somehow see something completely different. Is it simply the lack of media literacy? Is it the inability to appreciate and enjoy complex, nuanced, morally grey characters without willfully blocking out anything even slightly unpalatable about them to the point where the character they think they love isn't really that character anymore?

Because, uh... Season 1 already "vilified" Ed plenty. Except "vilify" is the wrong word, of course. It wasn't in any way malicious or mean-spirited, quite the contrary, it was often played as comedic (until the end of episode 10 when it was anything but) - Ed was always meant to be a sympathetic character, he's a protagonist after all, and the show's portrayal of him is very compassionate. It merely refused to sugarcoat or shy away from his darker side. He's literally history's most famous pirate, you don't become one by being nice and treating everyone gently. He ambushed and strangled his own father to death when he was like 9 years old (100% deserved and justifiable ofc, but it still bears saying it out loud like this just to comprehend how unhinged this actually was). He loves torturing and maiming people for fun, and sometimes even animals (that scene with forcing a turtle to fight a crab). He didn't give a fuck about his crew members dying to satisfy his whim to meet Stede. He entirely failed in his role as a captain in ep 4. He effectively played a double agent with Izzy and Stede for a while before changing his mind. He attempted to murder Lucius. And while you could try to argue his punishment of Izzy was at least to some degree deserved, not only cutting Izzy's toe off but forcing him to eat went beyond punishment, it was sadistic torture.

So, yeah, please just read all that and take it in. And then remember once again that Ed is also a traumatised, lonely, depressed, sensitive, creative, curious, deeply passionate person yearning for true love and for something different in life... just like Stede. He loves music and can play the piano. He wrote a very vulnerable song and sand his heart out. He likes his tea with seven sugars. He enjoys fashion and dressing up. He has such a limitless sense of wonder for the world. He went on a trek with Stede just to make him happy, even though he hated nature and was in a shit mood that day. He wants to host a talent show. He wants to become free. He's clever and funny and fascinating. I love Ed.

Yes, it's possible to reconcile those two sides of him and accept both sides as the "real" Ed. You have to reconcile the two sides if you want to enjoy him as a character, because if you don't, you're going to either detest him to the core (which would make enjoying the show practically impossible since he's sort of a main character...), or you'll only be able to enjoy a diminished, crippled, cardboard cutout version of his character, which would be such a pity and a massive disservice to the creators of this show who worked hard to create interesting, multidimensional characters.

Not to mention you'd be missing one of the core messages of the show - the idea that people still deserve love and can be loved even if they're imperfect, or not necessarily good people. Because love is a human condition. It's not a sole dominion of "good" people. "Bad" people can fall in love too - even if, just like them, that love isn't exactly "nice" or "pure", and neither are the relationships that stem from it. They can be messy and exasperating. But "bad" people can also grow and change because of it. That's what OFMD is ultimately about - growth and change, learning to accept yourself but also become better. That can't happen if the character is already 100% perfect the way they are.Ed is far from that. So is Izzy. They can both become better, and they both still deserve compassion and understanding, because that's the environment people need to become better.

So, if you're mad that at the start of S2 the crew are sympathetic to Izzy's suffering and want to help him instead of kicking him when he's down, and what Ed did to him is being acknowledged as cruel and wrong... congratulations, you have completely missed what OFMD is all about.

#normally I hate fandom drama and hate getting involved but I've seen too many of those posts #so unfortunately it needs saying #and tbh there seem to be a few Izzy fans out there who are unreasonably hateful and unsympathetic towards Ed too #so they need to hear this as well #izzy hands #blackbeard #ofmd ed teach #ofmd #our flag means death #our flag means death s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers

[writingforatwistedworld]

Another bread era?

Otome au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsession, possessiveness, stalking, threats, death, murder

Malleus Draconia/Lilia Vanrouge-“I’m gonna take your bread sir… let me take your bread SIR SIR STOP WALKING AWAY FROM ME SIR!!!??”

Malleus Draconia, the hidden king behind the roses, a legend who even the highest of kings and queens whisper in fear about... is holding back a laugh from watching you

Ok, to be fair, you can only do so much as a ruler of a Kingdom which has been isolated from the others for so long which probably also resulted him in being a bit (or maybe a lot more than a bit) for social interactions

Malleus adores you to a level which is incomprehensible for the ordinary human mind. Heck, most likely for any mind

Yet his most beloved is at the moment pretty much the opposite of him. Most unelegant they screamed at the poor bakers of the Queendom of Roses for their bread

Not like those humans, pardon, NPCs could hear you but it was a rather silly sight to see you sprinting up to the next person like you were possessed and demanding their bread

Could it be that there was a famine that led to you now demanding the food of others? But why especially bread? (I am not joking he is seriously asking himself that)

After sending Lilia out to check, just to be sure, he finally found out that no, you are not on the path of starvation, you are just silly

Might as well enjoy the show then. It's not every day that you see an otherworldly bring controlling a body being this interesting... not like he had seen another bodysnatcher like you before

When he noticed the havoc you caused in your wake he could not hold it back anymore, bursting into laughter he swiped tears of joy from his cheeks

Why this moment was so funny to him was beyond him. Perhaps it was that small memory of another place far in the past, a human from another world, a room filled with all kinds of individuals enjoying their rather mediocre meal together

Perhaps he should humor you

Sending out Lilia yet again (the poor bas-) he ordered that you were brought a basket filled with the finest sentiment of breads

Soft bread, hard bread, bread with seeds, bread with a crunchy crust, bread that tasted spicy and much, much more

When that NPC tried to trade all that bread for a meager price which could barely feed a person for a day the oh-so-lighthearted atmosphere shifted immediately into something that can only be described by “Oh f, he did it”

“Lilia, when was the last time you sharpened your blade?” “Pardon?”

But hey, at e end off the day you had still your bread and everything was great and fine and dandy and yay and oh my god someone just got killed in a PG-13 game what the heck is going on??!

Lilia is someone who takes his duties very seriously

Be it conveying messages to all those that have paid the price of his ruler's benevolence or monitoring the one who connects the one controlling them and this world

At first, Lilia assumed that the one controlling the puppet wearing white and blue would be a cold-hearted tyrant who loved to watch an entire world being nothing more than a game to them

But then...

“SIR GIMME UR BREAAAAAD!” A most frightening battle cry, Lilia nearly fell off from the tree branch he was dangling from when he first heard it

Were you finally setting out to conquer this world? Was it finally time to draw his sword and- uh... huh? *Insert confused expression*

Instead of attacking a defenseless person you sprinted to the next one, repeating the same actions you did just a second ago

The general had expected something of a crueler nature, just how the Gods were at the dawn, not someone jumping up and down whilst demanding bread

But perhaps, this could be used to his benefit?

The next day you found a new NPC. How strange, haven't you walked down this path in the game many times before? His did you miss him?

Interacting with the young man you found out that he was a baker who specialised in bread

How funny! You made a show of wanting bread just yesterday

It was almost like the game was interacting with your real-life self... Nah. Must be your imagination

To your delight, the dialogue seemed to change every single day, ending with the baker telling you stories far too dangerous for a normal person like him to experience

Every following day the interactions with the young man became more and more interesting, and by interesting I mean they went more and more off the grid

Lilia had to tell you more stories from the past he could still remember. This started with him investigating by talking to you but after time, he got attached. What if you were to move on and leave him behind from boredom? After some time his filter started to stop much less from his past than before. Things that he would have sugar-coated before we're now on full display.

Just don't turn your affection to somebody else. You were such a refreshing new sight that he simply had to own your attention

Now now, play nice and do what he says. Otherwise you might find a few NPCs missing

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #twisted wonderland otome au #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst malleus x reader #twst malleus #twst lilia x reader #twst lilia #twisted wonderland malleus #twisted wonderland lilia #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #yandere malleus #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus draconian #yandere lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #yandere lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #yandere lilia #lilia vanrouge

[foranpo]

ੈ˚☆ how they look at you. #2

anon asked: May i request p2 of how they look at you, with hunting dogs

fandom: bungou stray dogs.

characters: jouno, tetcho, tachihara.

reader: gn!

genre: headcanons.

content: fluff.

word count: ~200 each // ~600 total

cole's note: i am sorry for the long wait but i do hope you enjoy this second part and tysm for the request <3

ੈ♡˳────── enjoy the reading <3 ──────

˚ʚ jouno.

as if the entire universe was silent.

silence. rest. peace. finally, in your presence, the entire universe was submerged in a vast sea of tranquility that guided Jouno to the detailed pleasures of life. finally, nothing. after years of being violently assaulted by the most macabre noises of humans and the most cruel sounds in the world, there was, at last, a calm, an emptiness, a vast and pleasurable paradise of pure silence.

in your presence, nothing else existed for Jouno. the entire universe ceased to exist. there was no sound or smell to draw Jouno's attention away from you; any perverse attempt by the cosmos to expel you from Jouno's life was only futile, vain, useless when fate itself had the both of you intertwined in a timeless thread that transcended any reality.

Jouno looked at you with encyclopedias at his fingertips, love songs and poems to be recited in every touch Jouno gave you, in every smile he threw at you; Jouno looked at you, as the moon looks at the vast universe: silent and hopeful; a dreamer of what could exist beyond, a believer of what was experiencing and in love, so in love, with whom it admires, with whom it decided to devote itself.

ੈ♡˳─────────────────────

˚ʚ tetcho.

as if he was a student of the renaissance.

as it is certain that the sun rises every day, it was also certain to find a little bit of you in Tetchou; a new mannerism, a stray word, an infectious smile or a shared nightmare; nothing that was yours was alone when Tetchou was with you; nothing that was yours was neglected, not when Tetchou promised you, swore to you, whispered to you that everything in you would be part of him. today. tomorrow. in the future that was uncertain. • dedication. nothing but pure dedication was seen in Tetchou's fiery eyes. perhaps because of the novelty of the feeling, perhaps because of the intensity of the emotion, or simply because you were the object of his affection; but the truth is that no one could deny the truth of his feelings when all other lovers looked silly compared to the looks and smiles that Tetchou reserved only for you.

Tetchou looked at you like a student looks at the most complex books: curiosity aroused in Tetchou every time you entered the room, all his attention was voluntarily given to you and you alone; and his devotion, oh!, his devotion was something so common, so natural, as if he were created only to love you.

ੈ♡˳─────────────────────

˚ʚ tachihara.

as if a new fairy tale was being created.

the stars told your love to the various planets who yearned to hear your story; the moon confided the promises you had exchanged with Tachihara to the calmest lakes and gentlest rivers; the birds repeated your laughter in the hope of finding a love as beautiful as yours; and the world succumbed to Tachihara's love for you, eager to find something as true, as meaningful, as your love.

Tachihara's eyes couldn't escape the grace of your soul; it was a passion far beyond carnal desire, a feeling that corrupted the soul and bound it with a glue of passion and admiration that would last for centuries on end.

Tachihara looked at you as if a new story was being written: without fear of making mistakes, with nothing to hide; a pure innocence that overflowed from the smiles cast and the promises uttered; it was an emotion that contoured your soul, sculpted your essence and embraced your conscience, calming your person, comforting your identity, cradling your spirit.

ੈ♡˳───── feedback is appreciated <3 ─────

#;bungou stray dogs constellation; #jouno x reader #jouno headcanons #tetchou x reader #tetchou headcanons #tecchou x reader #tecchou headcanons #tachihara x reader #tachihara headcanons #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd headcanons #bungou stray dogs headcanons

[merakiui]

thinking about androids again, but rather than the plot seen in android jade,,,, consider android floyd who is being developed by tech genius idia shroud with input and funding from business magnate azul ashengrotto.

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, vaguely implied non-con/dub-con, android floyd)

He's designed to be a companion for those who are lonely and in need of the company (whether physically or socially). You're just a tired, overworked university student, so it's mind-boggling to you when there's a sleek limousine parked just beyond campus property. Security guards are insisting you come with them because there's someone who'd like to meet you.

In the limo, you find yourself sitting across from Azul Ashengrotto himself. He doesn't bother with flowery introductions, instead cutting to the heart of the matter. You've been randomly selected to help with a very important phase of his and Idia's project. The general idea is to test how well the android interacts with a normal, ordinary person in a monitored setting.

You're very confused. You never signed up for any lottery, and you certainly aren't affiliated with anything of that sort. You're just trying to get through your degree, survive two part-times, and hopefully make enough to keep afloat for another month. Azul tells you this isn't an issue; you'll be generously compensated for your time and efforts. It's only three months; you'll be permitted to live your life as you normally would, only now you'll be accompanied by a highly intelligent android.

Despite hearing all of this, you hesitate when he reveals the lengthy contract. As you flip through it, analyzing each clause and category, Azul says something that piques your interest. "We don't expect you to house an android in your little apartment. Goodness, that's simply ludicrous. We'll provide your housing for these next three months. After all, we must be able to monitor your progress."

"Housing? What do you mean?"

He smiles at you. Backdropped by leather interior, the lights casting odd shadows on his face, he looks near-sinister. But he leans forward to press a ballpoint pen into your hands and the illusion vanishes. "I think you'll find it quite to your liking. If you've finished your classes for the day, why not visit the property with me? Then you may decide whether you wish to participate."

You're not worried about that part. What worries you the most, however, is the fact that he's right. You are finished with classes for the day and you have nothing planned. You took today off from work. Your schedule is perfectly free.

But of course the Azul Ashengrotto wouldn't know that, would he?

The house is a smart home, equipped with every necessity and appliance. Everything's controlled by a remote here. It's not very far from your university either, built on a hill that overlooks houses below. It feels a little isolating and smells very new and clean. Like that fabled new car smell, only it's a house. But everything is so unique to you. Its minimalistic design is oddly cozy, and you can't help but feel enchanted the deeper you venture through the two-story home. It's all so unreal!

Azul gives you the rundown, explains how the remote and each button works. You can lock doors, open and close windows, mess with the thermostat, turn the home security on and off, and even start the oven. You hold the power to this home in the palm of your hands. It's immensely fascinating.

By the end of the tour, you're shaking his hand and signing his contract, agreeing to three months of study. Not only are you provided this nice home, you'll also be paid per week. And the pay is far more than you were making with your two jobs.

The android has a long, tongue-tying serial number, so to make things easier he's named Floyd. They even gave him a surname in preparation for the twin android who is being designed to complement and mirror him. He certainly looks human when you meet him, but there's this uncanny nature to his presence that slightly unnerves you. He's too perfect. Skin too smooth. Eyes too bright. Hair too soft. He towers over you, having to bend down to walk through the doorframe, and every movement he makes is very mechanical and stiff.

Still, you smile at him and offer your hand. "Hi there. I'm (Name). Your...housemate, I guess."

He nods, peering down at your hand before lifting his own. "Floyd Leech. At your service."

You were expecting to feel coldness, so you startle when his hand fits into yours and it's warm. It feels so very real. So deceptively lifelike. You wonder if he can regulate his own internal temperatures. Just how advanced is he?

"Right... Um, I look forward to getting to know you!"

He nods again, releasing your hand after a perfectly timed handshake.

Azul had given you a special number should you need to reach him or Idia. All you needed to do was phone it if at any point you were to feel confused or unsafe. "But I don't think you'll utilize it," he told you when you stood in the lab, watching Idia Shroud flit around to do final maintenance checks to ensure Floyd was ready for his first trial run. His eyes were open the entire time, two mismatched lights centered on you. His stare was listless, but somehow you felt as if he was looking through to your very soul. "He's very safe. In fact, he's programmed to assess and react appropriately to dangers of all kinds. You'll be safe with him around."

And safe you are.

You've always been alone, so it's nice to have a roommate, even if he only speaks when spoken to. It's awkward for all of one week until you ease into his pattern. From various vantage points throughout the house, Idia and Azul watch through hidden cameras. You cook your meals for yourself and Floyd watches, assisting when you order him to. You leave for class and Floyd waits by the door for you to return, standing stock-still for hours.

You lounge in the sitting room and put on all kinds of films. Action. Comedy. Horror. Floyd's eyes never leave the screen. But sometimes he watches you more than he watches the movie, noting all of your reactions. He doesn't understand why you get so emotional over sappy romances. So you explain it simply: "It evokes emotions. We all have emotions, and these movies make us feel them. Happy. Sad. Angry. Upset. Things like that."

But Floyd doesn't feel. Even so, he listens and he nods along, filing your answers away for later dissection. It's interesting.

By the end of the first month, Floyd's adopted new habits. Ever since you told him he's free to do as he pleases, he's taken to cooking your meals for you, doing your laundry, preparing your bag for the day. He's surprisingly good at it. He does chores when you leave for classes or work. And for the first time in a while you're excited to return home, knowing he's there waiting.

Floyd adds new words and phrases to his ever-expanding vocabulary. You watch a lot of TV together and he starts to use some of what he hears in his own speech. He picks up informal language quickly, and it isn't long until he's using words like sup or dunno instead of the rigid how are you? and I am unsure he was previously programmed with.

The first sign of unrest comes when you realize Floyd's also connected to the smart home. At first you didn't think it was a bad thing. After all, with him controlling it you won't have to worry about getting up to grab the remote if you've already sat down. Floyd can do that for you. But then the remote goes missing, later turning up shattered. You ask Floyd what happened and he looks at you and says, "Why use this piece of junk when you've got me?"

"Still... What if you're not able to help? What if you're in sleep mode and I need to open a window or something?" you argue, cradling the splinters of remote like they're an injured baby bird.

"That won't happen," he replies smoothly, issuing you a soothing smile. "I'm always gonna be here for ya. Count on it."

And you do because, by the time the three months are nearing their end and Floyd's developed into quite the companion, more and more human than he's ever seemed, you find yourself stuck.

No, not stuck. That's not quite right. You're more so trapped.

Floyd locks the doors, shutters the windows, turns off the lights. You're cowering in the closet, the only place that feels just a little safe in this moment. You can't reach Azul or Idia either. He's shut the power off, the internet connection, everything. The smart home on the hilltop feels like a tiny island now, and Floyd's the shark always circling it, waiting for you to dip your feet into the depths.

"C'mon, Shrimpy," he calls out, and it's a nickname you were once so fond of because he thought of it himself. "I already told ya I ain't gonna hurt ya. So just come out and talk to me."

You have no idea where you went wrong. Was it too many horror films? Was it the fact that you started to rely so heavily on him for companionship, ignoring your human friends in favor of staying in with Floyd? Or was it because he was blocking their numbers that you never received any messages and automatically assumed they were cutting contact? He said he'd always be here for you, so why to this degree?

The closet doors are thrown open. Floyd drags you, kicking and screaming, out by the ankles. Every camera has gone dark on Azul and Idia's end. All but one. The one in the bedroom. Floyd stares directly at it when he lifts you up and lays you on the bed, gentle and sugary-sweet.

He smiles and waves before that screen blanks out, leaving you truly trapped with him.

And because it's all experimental, morbid curiosity trumping ethical morals, no one comes to rescue you.

Three months is more of an indefinite forever in this lonesome smart home.

#meraki mumbles #yandere twst

[ghcstao3]

what about werewolf!ghost x vampire!soap 👀

hope you don’t mind me using the occasion to revive the rileys for an awkward family dinner

-

Being brought home to meet Ghost’s family is probably one of the more interesting moments of Soap’s (unbearably long) life.

And not only because he’s never properly dated someone as long as he has Ghost before—it’s also because said family isn’t human, and is more than aware of the fact that he drinks blood to keep himself alive.

So. Interesting is where he stands.

Soap is lured in with a false sense of security from two things—the first being Ghost’s insistence that his mother, brother, and sister-in-law are all nicer than him. The second being the warm smile Mrs. Riley offers him at the front door, entirely friendly and sincere, not like the brandishing of sharp canines that Ghost has flashed Soap with once or twice.

She’s pleasant to talk with, already siding with him when it comes to her son’s tendencies, and she even goes so far as to pour him a glass of pig’s blood she’d purchased just for the occasion. And being that it’s so nice, Soap doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he can only tolerate the stuff at best, especially now that he only ever takes from a specific source these days.

It’s through this lovely conversation with Ghost’s mum and the general sense of domesticity that has Soap believing that he shouldn’t encounter any problems when Beth and Tommy arrive.

But how wrong he was.

Beth at least tries to be polite, though Soap doesn’t miss the distasteful scrunch of her nose once she obviously catches scent of what Ghost so lovingly calls the wrongness of vampirism. Tommy, on the other hand, doesn’t so much as bother trying to hide his disdain.

(Thank God Soap finds out later that it’s mostly just the whole protective older brother act, but still. It hurts Soap’s feelings, just a bit.)

Dinner is absolutely stifling when all but Soap are eating what Ghost’s mum has made, all chatter dying off much too quickly in what little bouts Ghost, of all people, tries to initiate. Soap traces his finger around the rim of his barely-touched glass all while he tries to ignore Tommy’s pointed looks like Soap had done something to personally offend him.

Maybe he had.

“You’re sure about this, Simon?” Tommy eventually, finally asks after nothing but pressing silence. Though the question is asked to Soap’s left, he still feels golden eyes near identical to Ghost’s bearing down on him.

Ghost drops his fork onto his plate, his frustration palpable, emanating in waves. “Do you have to be such a prick, Tom?”

“Boys,” Mrs. Riley scolds from her end of the table. “We have a guest.”

“Yeah, and that guest’s a vampire, Mum,” Tommy spits, throwing out his hand in gesture to Soap. “He eats people.”

“Tom,” Beth hisses.

“Common misconception,” Soap mumbles. He feels all attention shift to him, as if they all remembered he was present—right, super-hearing. He clears his throat, raising his voice, “Only the… bad ones do that.”

“Besides,” Ghost is adding, and Soap is a little fearful of where he plans to take this, “he only feeds off me.”

A tense silence blankets the table. Soap wants to sink into the floor.

“…What?”

“It was my idea,” Ghost attempts to amend, but it’s already much too late. This is already a disaster, beyond disaster, and maybe Soap should’ve stuck to his guns about not meeting a family of werewolves as a vampire.

“Doesn’t matter, Simon!” Tommy exclaims his disbelief.

Ghost rolls his eyes. Soap had not at all imagined this to be where the night would lead. It’s what he desperately wished wouldn’t happen. Because he loves Ghost, and Ghost loves his family—so Soap had felt he needed to be in their good graces.

There goes that idea.

“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t trust him, Tommy,” Ghost says slowly, challenging. “Is how I feel about him not good enough?”

This finally seems to stun Tommy into some form of submission. Soap doesn't miss Beth reaching out to flick Tommy's ear.

"S'pose it is," Tommy grumbles.

"Good." Ghost sits back in his chair, and resumes eating with a smug self-satisfaction poised in his broad shoulders.

There's a kick under the table delivered to Tommy, though Soap can't tell by who. He only knows its recipient by the muttered sorry, John, that follows.

Soap supposes he can be content with that for now. He gives Tommy a close-lipped smile, fearing that any show of fangs might provoke him.

All things considered, things could be worse. Even his military training wouldn't give him a considerable upper-hand against a natural-born werewolf.

He'll have to talk to Ghost about it later. Maybe when the werewolf is shifted, and Soap can dig cold fingers through thick fur. Then again another time, when Ghost can respond with more than huffs and whines and low growls.

They'll figure it out—they've already done it once before with just each other.

But they definitely have to smooth things over sooner rather than later, or else it's going to be real awkward when Soap finally gets the courage to pull out the ring that's been weighing his pocket down for little over a month, now.

It's fine. Everything will be fine. Soap can manage interesting.

#ask #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #ghoap #writing #alternate universe

[misc-obeyme]

Hello my beloved CC I’d love to hear about how Mephistopheles would react to MC giving him conversation hearts?

Dearest Violet, I hope you're having a fabulous Valentine's Day!

I really thought I wouldn't have time to do all the other characters today, but the stars have aligned and gave me some unexpected extra hours! So I went ahead and did everybody, including of course our man Mephisto! I also did my OC Arsenios because I was curious about what his reaction would be lol.

Thank you for asking! 💕

XOXO Part Two - GN!MC x side characters & OC Arsenios

Warnings: none!

Part One

Diavolo

Absolutely thrilled, of course. Tell him everything you know about conversation hearts, even if it's just that they exist and are sold every year. Watch his eyes get all shiny as he looks at them because he thinks they're so adorable.

He will eat them, but he will read every single one in the box out loud to you first. And he'll want you to eat them with him, so he's going to deliberately give you the ones that he would actually like to say to you. This means you end up eating most of them because he can't help himself.

Give him the one that says MY HERO and watch him blush. He tries to keep his cool, but you can see how much it means to him. He's happy you gave him these, MC. Thank you for sharing a piece of your world with him.

Now you're the one blushing. Diavolo gives you his signature laugh and pulls you into his arms. Gives you the last one that just says KISS before doing exactly that.

Barbatos

He's surprised, but quite happy because it turns out he actually made his own version to give to you. He thought you might like a little piece of home, but he never expected you to share that same thing with him. He's touched that you thought of him, MC.

He is aware of them because of his tendency to learn about human world desserts and candies. The ones he made for you are beyond delicious. You insist he share them with you because they taste better than the normal chalk version. Barbatos is happy to, but he finds the regular human world variety quite charming as well.

His hearts have a lot of the usual cute sayings, but a couple of them have more elaborate decorations such as a little bouquet of flowers or an elegant lace pattern. You can't help but blush when you find one that just says your name.

He finds the same message in both sets of hearts and gives them to you. They say BE MINE. Give him one back that says I'M YOURS and all the sweet candies are forgotten because he needs you in his arms that very second.

Simeon

Oh these are incredibly cute. He's so happy that you've given him some! If the box happens to have any texting acronyms, though, he will be baffled. Holds one up for you that says TTYL with a question in his eyes. Explain to him what they all mean and that it's only something they include because they're short enough to fit on the hearts.

Simeon finds them delightful. He'll be especially pleased if you give him an extra box for Luke. He thinks Luke would love to decorate a cake with some of these!

But he has to admit that the messages are a little too short to truly encompass how he feels about you. He shifts some of them around to from little sentences, eventually landing on REAL LOVE, PEACE, FOREVER. Do you understand what he's trying to say, MC?

Maybe you form your own sentence in hopes that he'll see you do understand. Something like ONLY YOU, ANGEL. Watch him blush and smile. Then he's kissing you and it's far sweeter than anything a conversation heart has to offer.

Solomon

Of course he's already familiar with this particular item from your shared human experience. He was probably alive when they first came on the scene and he might tell you about it if you prod him enough. He might not have been paying much attention, though, so likely his memory on this just that they showed up at some point.

He's really quite happy that you gave him some. His instinct is to wow you by using magic to alter them. He turns them different colors and changes the words on them. He makes one spell out a whole Shakespeare sonnet one or two words at a time.

You can't help but laugh at that, but you tell him it's cheating. If he really wants to let you know how he feels, he has to use what's already in the box. He accepts your challenge. Have you forgotten who you're dealing with, MC?

Surprises you by not giving you a whole stack of them. He only hands you a single heart. It says, boldly and clearly, I LOVE YOU. He's smiling his mischievous smile, but there's a slight blush there, too. Your answer is a kiss.

Mephistopheles

At first he's somewhat confused. Why are you giving him a box full of chalk, MC? He's not exactly familiar with human world stuff, so he doesn't realize it's candy at first. Explain it to him and he's surprisingly appreciative. He wasn't expecting you to think of him.

Really knock his socks off by giving him a few extra boxes for his little brother. The fact that you remembered he has one really makes him soft. It also gives him the opportunity to ask about your own family. He wants to know about them, if you want to talk about them.

Now you're having a whole conversation that goes far beyond the hearts, but you're both enjoying them together. He might not even like them all that much, but he seems to be content to eat them with you.

Deliberately give him one that says FIRST KISS and watch him get flustered. Acts like it wasn't an invitation on your part, so you'll have to be a little more blatant if you actually want him to kiss you. Eventually he gets the message and it turns out he's wanted to kiss you all along. You can tell by how hungry his lips are and the way he wraps his arms so tightly around you.

Raphael

Surprises you by actually knowing about them. Seems confused by your surprise. Surely you've heard about Michael's preference for sweet things. That extends to human world items like this, too. He doesn't really get the appeal, but he is happy that you thought of him.

He actually likes the brevity of the messages. They're short and efficient, communicating a single sentiment quickly and clearly. Nobody could misinterpret something that says CALL ME. That's pretty straightforward, don't you think, MC?

This argument is all well and good until you give him one that says XOXO. He has no idea what that means. Perhaps it's in a human world language he's not familiar with? He takes back everything he said about clear communication.

Once you explain what they mean, he gets a little flustered. Hugs and kisses? Why not just say that? Distract him by pulling him in for a simultaneous hug and kiss. He's blushing for real now. He understands the essence of XOXO a little better, but he wouldn't mind if you showed him again.

Thirteen

Wow, humans do some really adorable things, don't they? Look at these tiny hearts with cheesy words on them! They look like chalk, but she finds them endearing. And of course she's trying to hide how pleased she is that you gave her something. It's really cute of you.

She's already coming up with ways to use them for traps. Put a spell on one and leave it somewhere an immortal sorcerer just might happen to find it. She might do it, too, if you don't distract her a bit.

Find one that says MY GIRL to give to her. She smiles and blushes just a little, but leans in to ask if you think she belongs to you. Maybe you tell her that you'd like that. A direct response such as that flusters her and now she's not sure how to react.

Searches through the hearts, but she can't seem to find one that says what she wants, so she just shoves the first one she picks up toward you. It says LOL. You actually do laugh because it's pretty cute how flustered she is. She decides to clear things up by kissing you. You get a little dizzy at how quickly she goes from shy to bold. It's some time before she lets you go.

Arsenios

The minute you put the box in his hand, he's fighting down a blush because wow, you are really cute, MC. A sweet little human like you actually taking the time to give him these candies stamped with lovey phrases really surprises him.

He takes them all out of the box and lines them up in the way that makes the most sense. You're a little confused about why he's doing it until he takes out his guitar. A few chords later and he's singing you a song using every phrase from the box. You're both laughing pretty quickly because the words are mostly nonsense.

But Arsenios deliberately left the best group for last and his voice becomes sweet when he sings you the final line. ONLY YOU, MY LOVE, BE TRUE. It's still only a fragment of a sentence at best, but the sentiment rings through the notes and you can see it in his eyes.

He smiles at you as the notes fade away because he's pleased at your reaction. But it isn't enough, so he takes your hands and asks if he can kiss you. If you say yes, you'll find yourself so distracted in his embrace that you don't notice that he never actually ate any of the candy hearts.

xoxo part one with the brothers

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#I'm glad I was able to do them all because I love all the side characters so much #I need to write more for our three newbies in general #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #omnb #omswd #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me fanfic #obey me diavolo #om diavolo #obey me barbatos #om barbatos #obey me simeon #om simeon #obey me solomon #om solomon #obey me mephistopheles #om mephistopheles #obey me raphael #om raphael #obey me thirteen #om thirteen #obey me oc #misc oc arsenios #misc writes

[kivino]

TAKE US BACK || ZOMBIE AU || KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK X GN!READER

Word Counter – 6.4k words

Summary – The new world was rotten, and you rotted away with it. 

Tags/Warnings – Zombie AU (heavily twd coded, don’t expect some l4d type of stuff /lh. Death and turning after the bite ARE slower, however. For the sake of drama. obviously), gore, blood, gn!Reader, established relationship, heavy angst, major character death. 

A/n – So, this fic is my contribution to the spooky season! Special thanks to @mockerycrow for helping me with the pictures for the header, you're the best, pookie!!! I have a playlist for this fic too, so in case you want to read this with complete immersion I’ll link it here. Enjoy <333

also available on my ao3

upd. if you saw that unfinished paragraph you didn’t see anything, move along 👁️👁️

“Kyle, I think…I think I’m bitten.” was all it took to shatter him into millions of tiny pieces. Just like that. Nothing mattered anymore, even that you promised each other to stay alive, no matter what. In the back of his mind, he knew all those promises muttered into his lips while he feverishly kissed you were empty, shallow attempts to silence his mind, to make him sleep in peace, thinking you’ll be there no matter what. And of course, he didn’t doubt your words even for a split second.

Kyle knew he was a fool to believe that. To think the two of you were inseparable. In a world like this, how could one even think of something staying forever untouched by decay that spread far beyond the horizon? Rot overtook everything, and if something was still untouched by it, soon enough that wither would find a way to slither inside, spoiling it forever. It would even find its way into people’s minds, ruining humanity in a manner no physical disease could ever hope to damage them. Kyle and you have seen it happen far too many times, and his only wish was for you to meet your end together, peacefully. But now…he only wished he had the strength to go on, he truly did. 

Because you needed him. Now more than ever. 

And so, he kept trying. If he didn’t then both of you would be done for. You didn’t deserve that, not when all he wanted was for you to be safe and well, not caring much about himself. You were the one who saved him when all the shit went down, now it was time to return the favor. So, he pushed himself through every agonizingly slow day. But he was starting to feel the already feeble remains of his strength slipping away from him. He wouldn’t give up, however. Never. Not when your life depended on it. 

That’s why while you were bedridden, weakness setting in your body as a permanent, bitter resident, Kyle was scouring the old town for fever and cold medicine, trying to be as quiet as possible, not to attract any undead. He had a gun, but he did not use it – too loud and bullets were a luxury, not a commodity. Kyle only had one bullet, following the advice of a nice older man with mutton chops he remembered meeting in one of the survivor camps a long time ago.

“Always save the last bullet for yourself or your loved ones. You never know who’ll need it more”

Methods aside, recent days were spent wandering abandoned houses in attempts to find at least some food for the two of you. Only when the darkness started to settle, Kyle would head back, throwing his backpack over the fence and barely managing to climb it, sore muscles and empty stomach sending jolts of pain all through his body. Even then, he was restless, sitting by your side, wiping your forehead of sweat, and taking your temperature. Your breathing was strained, chest rising and falling under thin blankets that barely kept you warm. And each time he looked at you for more than a minute at a time he felt his insides twisting in pain, eyes getting white-hot with tears, and throat closing, barely letting him take a short breath just so he doesn’t suffocate in his misery.

And then the sun rises, warm rays painting the room in a variety of colors, falling over your face, morning birds wake up Kyle from his nightmare-filled sleep. He jolts awake from the dreams, filled with the image of you, dying in agony over and over, crying out for help, begging him to do something. You get torn apart, your intestines spilling out on the damp floor, pulled out by a crowd of the undead who devour you with vigorous hunger, biting into your flesh until he can’t recognize your face from the bloody and mangled pulp that rotting hands and jagged teeth turn you into. Your raw, pained screams haunt him even when he’s awake, observing you lose your life all over again. Much slower and in a much more painful way. 

The sun rises. And so does Kyle. Your desperate pleas that drag from the dream are muffled as soon as he sees you sleeping. Forgetting, that you were getting weaker with each day that passed. Choosing to bask in your tranquil glow, in the way your eyelashes fluttered while you slept, choosing to neglect the worry clawing on the back of his mind just to stay like this with you for a little longer. Kyle knew he couldn’t delay the inevitable, but he still decided to make the best out of the short amount of time he had left with you. Hoping that some miracle would happen and you wouldn’t succumb to the decay. That the bite would turn out to be a bad dream you both had on the same night, waking up from it in cold sweat, searching for the comfort of each other’s embrace, while letting out relieved sighs, realizing that you’re safe. 

That would be great, wouldn’t it?

Instead, he shakes you awake with a gentle hand, almost not wanting to wake you up from your slumber. You blink up at him, looking even more tired than before you went to sleep. Circles under your eyes are even darker than the previous night. And Kyle is in pain once again. He wants to help you up, throwing your arm over his shoulder, to lead you through the long, silent halls of the school where you were staying, full of dust and damp, moldy smell, to have breakfast together. Like good old times. But he sees that in your eyes, you’re too weak to pull your weight up and stand up. So, he brings the heated-up cans of beans here, putting one on a stool in front of you, helping you to sit up before he even thinks of touching his food.

“Kyle, that’s twice what I usually eat.” You mutter, watery eyes rising to him, sitting on the mattress in front of you with his legs crossed. He raises his eyebrow and his head shifts to the side in a questioning motion.

“Well, you have to eat plenty to recover.” He said, matter-of-factly. You stay silent, unwilling to have that debate right now. You barely managed to stay awake as it is. Let him think that you’ll get better, despite everything you saw together. Despite every rule that you’ve discovered. Let him live in the illusion, in the waking dream that all will be well if he tries hard enough. “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s growing cold” 

You didn’t realize that you’d been drilling the can of steaming beans in front of you with your glassy gaze for the past several minutes, submerged in your thoughts deep enough to suffocate. You pick up the spoon with a weak, shaky motion. Then your eyes fall on the can. Somehow, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to pick it up. Failing at something so simple…you knew it’d hurt your pride even more. So, you opted to push the tin closer to the edge of the stool.

Kyle glanced over at you, beads of sweat glistening on your forehead. He sensed the fatigue from you, lacing the air that surrounded you and leaving dark, oily traces over anything your fingers lingered on. You breathed sickness. Your hands, which were able to easily bash an undead’s head on the wall just several days ago, now could barely hold a spoon steady without it trembling and threatening to fall, spilling all the contents over the moth-eaten blanket. He felt his heart squeeze in pain, and he swore that something shattered inside of him once again. 

“Let me help you.” Although it sounded like an offer, Kyle didn’t look like he was going to let you debate it, shuffling closer to you, taking the spoon from your hand in a swift motion. You purse your lips, knowing that protesting that would be stupid. If it wasn’t for how weak and sick you were, and for a lot of other circumstances, it would be a cutesy moment. Your dear spoon-feeding you something? Please, one’s teeth would rot from how sweet it is. But now it was just another deep, bleeding gash on your pride. Kyle blows on the food, cooling it off and promptly moving it towards your mouth with his hand cupped just under the spoon. You obediently clamp your lips around the spoon. “There we go.” He gives you a small smile, but you see the melancholy in his eyes when Kyle wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He means well, yet you can’t help but feel like you’re a burden to him. 

You loathed being like this. Being this weak. Fragile. You were able to fend for yourself, you had resilience and strength, but now you were just rendered useless, only dragging Kyle down, depriving him of the freedom to go on.

He’ll die if he continues like this.

You knew it. He was exhausted, and you’ve been like this for a little over a week. Survival wasn’t about skill anymore, it was about luck. You lost yours already, the moment rotten, jagged teeth sunk into the flesh of your forearm like it was butter, drawing the first blood. But Kyle, he…sooner or later he will lose his luck too. And it was apparent that it was coming sooner than you anticipated. A bullet he won’t be able to dodge. An infected scratch. An undead that he simply didn’t notice because of how tired he is. A bear trap in the vicinity of someone’s camp. Something will get to Kyle. Or someone. And thankfully, you won’t be here to witness it. Hopefully.

 “What are you doing? Where are we going?” You barely managed to mutter out, clinging to him with all the strength you had, which, to be fair, wasn’t a lot. He could feel the cold of your hands clasped around his neck even through several layers of his clothes. Kyle’s hands carefully held you under your thighs as he went up the stairs, not showing any signs of exertion except for beads of sweat on his temples. 

“Just thought we might watch the sunrise together, like good old days” You could hear the soft smile that tugged on his mouth when he said that. Another reminder for you that he probably loathed the way you lived right now and would prefer to go back to the way things were. With you not being his…burden.

You didn’t need to be reminded of this. Of the “good old days”. Finding that abandoned farm, deep in the buttcrack of the countryside was what saved the both of you when the world started going to shit. You and Kyle met each other years prior, but it didn’t matter anymore. Not when everything as you knew it was gone.

Hiding there gave you a sense of normalcy you missed so much, after having to live for months, years like an animal. You didn’t feel like the world as you knew it was falling apart beyond that fence with cracked white paint. Deserted fields full of dead crops, empty house with a bunch of stuff forgotten or thrown around messily - it was obvious the owners wouldn’t come back any time soon. Snooping around gave you too much information - you couldn’t help but feel a bitter burn on the back of your throat when you picked up a framed family photo from the fireplace, five tan faces staring back at you with perpetual smiles etched into the glossy paper. 

You didn’t have the gall to throw away or burn everything personal the previous family left behind. Photo albums, children's clothes and toys, diplomas, drawings, letters, posters, and even something as small as shopping lists on the fridge, five life stories were packed into several boxes, taped and put in the attic. Kyle didn’t understand your wish to preserve something that wasn’t even yours, but he didn’t interfere, choosing to give you a hand instead. If it helped you to sleep in someone else’s bed calmer, replacing the presumably dead strangers, he was willing to indulge you.

Despite how far away from the civilization this farm was, seeing an undead roaming around wasn’t a very rare occurrence, but at least you could handle the occasional walking corpses. You wake up, you go on patrol. You finish patrol, and you meet the sunrise with Kyle by your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, with a blanket thrown over the both of you, sitting on the front porch, right on the creaking stairs. These fleeting moments felt so right. Like home.

Eventually, you had to continue moving. Started to run short on supplies ever since then. Running into all sorts of different people, relying on strangers, leading a nomad way of life. It wasn’t unfulfilling, since you only needed the company of each other to keep it together. In a variety of groups that you’ve been through it was always a known fact that you’ll stick by each other before someone else.

All he needed was your loving hug when you came back from a supply run. A soft kiss that you would put on that scar right on his cheek. Or to hold your hand under the table when you sat down to eat with whatever group you were with this week, like your love for each other was a secret meant only for the two of you. All you needed was his warmth, his comfort, his mere presence, that would light up your shitty day like a damn light beam. He managed to take your breath away each time he looked at you with such gentleness and softness that sometimes you didn’t think you deserved it. You’ve found the world in each other. A purpose.

So what is Kyle going to do when you’re gone?

The morbid thought suddenly crosses your mind, while the man carefully sits you down on a worn lawn chair with a soft grunt, plopping down on the ground by your side, warm palm reassuringly resting on your thigh. Bringing you down to earth. Gusts of frosty wind brush through your hair, nipping at your cheeks, nose, and ears. You missed the outside, despite it being quite cold and unwelcoming this time of the year.

“I think the herd's close. See that dust?” Kyle taps you lightly on your leg and points towards the horizon. And true to his words, there is a fine dark line separating the sky, burning up in a mix of reds and yellows, from the earth. “They’re moving weird.”

“What does that mean?” you croak at Kyle, not able to peel your eyes from that sheet of gray, bunched-up dust that sat on the edge of the horizon like a shadow.

“Means if we’re lucky they’ll pass the school.” Kyle mutters, trying to reassure you, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze.

And then it clicks.

When he came back from the supply run you were nowhere to be found in the wind-torn building. There were no traces of you in the old cafeteria on the first floor where the two of you would heat up the canned food that your taste buds got used to over the long months the end of the world stretched over. Before you got bit.

He felt his heart sink to his stomach, so nauseous from the mere thought of something happening to you. Kyle fought himself not to double over, press his forehead against the wall and throw up everything you two had for breakfast until he feels the acidic burn on his tongue and cries his damn eyes out from the pain. You knew that the herd was getting closer, why did you have to disappear right now? You two were supposed to wait it out together, by each other’s side. What were you doing, and more importantly, what were you thinking? Nothing made sense. Nothing at all.

Kyle felt the wall with an awkward, stiff motion of his hand, before putting his weight on it and sliding down, he felt like his legs could not hold him anymore. You barely had the strength to sit upright, where would you go in your condition? 

The only place he could think of that was close enough for you to get to was the motor inn down the street. Of course.

The herd was already here. Kyle had no time to spare, he needed to act now, to get you and run away as fast as possible. He remembered there was a car in that old motor inn, so that could be your getaway plan, sure thing he could figure something out…and to get there…He can use that old trick that another group of survivors taught you two. “If you smell like them, they won’t notice you, simple as that. Just make sure not to bump into anyone, or they’ll get real friendly with you.” Of course. It was that easy. You never resorted to that trick, preferring to avoid or dispose of the undead on sight. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

Kyle cringed at that sinking feeling in his stomach, but not at the thought of having to walk through the herd and probably be eaten alive, no. The possibility of you not being in that motor inn was what made that hollow pit inside of him grow. The fact that he might never see you again. Or that he would find you already gone.

He moves with calculated precision. Catch the undead’s attention, yellowish whites are dull under the daylight. Let it get close enough, it groans with each movement, joints snapping and clicking. Make the undead lose its balance, kick it in the knee, and the rotting leg almost falls off under the force that Kyle unintentionally applies. Destroy the brain, put a hunting knife right to the forehead, and let it thud to the ground, finally at rest. He’s thoughtlessly going through the motions, every step ingrained into his consciousness, almost like second nature to him. Rips through the stomach of the undead, black, resinous blood oozing out. Sinks his hands in the intestines, they smell so strong Kyle tears up and gags, hands shuffling around clothes caked with dirt and grime, swiping putrid, nasty mass all over himself. But it’s nothing. It’s alright. It will be worth it when he finds you.

After that, everything he remembers is under a thick blanket of haze, accompanied by the smell. You never get used to it. He feels nauseous, his insides twisting in worry, gnawing and biting at his heart like a terrified, desperate dog. His eyes grasp onto anything, but all Kyle sees is the sea of rotting flesh all around him, groans and moans of the undead so echoing in his ears loud all he wants is to tumble to the ground and end it all. He barely breathes with how tight his chest is squeezing his heart, it feels like in a split moment his insides will collapse onto themselves, capturing him in this meat cage. He has to remind himself that he’s not doing it for himself, he’s doing it for you, only for you. Kyle has to let his thoughts travel to your voice, to the way your nose scrunched when you laughed, to the frown between your brows when you slept in his arms just so he doesn’t go mad. Stares from decomposing, milky white eyes with yellows, blues, and reds here and there felt like stabs right through him, each could be the last if he gave himself away.

He could be grabbed by any of the half-rotten hands with sickly yellowish bones sticking out like spears of the cavemen, bitten, dragged away, or devoured. But he pressed on through the seemingly endless crowd of the undead. He would be lying if he said it didn’t affect him. That abandoned motor inn was like a beacon right now, but his imagination still ran wild, his hope growing more and more dim with each minute spent away from you. He didn’t feel like any hero. Kyle was scared. Mostly for you, but he could feel the tremble in his knees at the mere thought of any undead in the crowd recognizing him as an impostor. If that happens, he won’t be able to mutter even a single word. Rotten fingers will dig into his flesh, tearing it apart and Kyle will meet his end like this, on the damp ground, abandoned and scared out of his damn mind.

When Kyle pressed himself against the closed door of the motor inn, he finally could breathe in again. It wasn’t the time for a break, however. He still needed to find you. He wanders through the dusty, ransacked rooms in a daze, fixated on finding any traces you left, noticing the old rusty car in passing. The getaway plan. If the two of you are lucky enough. Footprints in the dust. They look new, and similar to the ones on the soles of your old boots. He follows. Your thin blanket lies forgotten on the stairs. Kyle practically flies up to the second floor, picking up the blanket, while he’s at it. More footprints in the dust, door to some old office is left ajar.

First, you felt the smell. Then you heard him cry out your name in surprise. And then you finally saw Kyle. He’s a blur of red, black, and brown. Covered head to toe with blood, guts, rotting flesh, and dirt, you presume. A sad, heartbreaking sight. Kyle, however, doesn’t mind it and immediately runs towards you, falling on the floor with a loud thud, and you’re sure he might’ve scraped his knees with how hard he landed. His arms cage you in a tight hug and you hear him let out a shaky exhale. Tears start to sting your eyes when you feel him pressing your head into his shoulder, stroking you with a gentle motion. You weren’t sure if he was trying to comfort you or reassure himself that you’re real, and not a fragment of his imagination. Regardless, you manage to reciprocate the hug, raising one of your arms and wrapping it around his back.

All of these days you saved up your energy for the last push. You needed to get away from him. You couldn’t trust yourself to remain near Kyle anymore. Any moment you could turn. You felt it in the way your bones ached with every gust of wind, how your blood boiled under your veins and your vision turned even more blurry. And in that case, you’d be a threat to Kyle, possibly getting him at his most vulnerable. It didn’t matter that you’d be long gone by then, you would still never forgive yourself if there was any possibility of it happening. Because, deep down you knew. No matter how skilled and ruthless Kyle was with handling the undead…he didn’t have it in him to bash your head in. So, you only had one choice to ensure his safety.

Yet he finds you. Here. You could feel your cheeks burn from being so angry at him, for his lack of acceptance that you were on the brink, and all it would take for you right now to fall into the abyss would be a light gust of wind or a slight shove. But you couldn’t blame him. You thought a lot about what you would do if the roles were reversed. The scenario brewed in your mind, haunting those short hours you were awake and trapping you in restless dreams.

You would want to live in illusion too.

“There you are.” You could practically feel something inside of you crack when you catch his smile beaming at you. Kyle just went to hell and back to get to you. And he still finds it in himself to smile at you, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders with hurried, but soothing movements. You were so weakened by the bite that you couldn’t even find any strength to go down the stairs and get the blanket when you dropped it. Humiliating. “Come on, we have to go, now, we can’t stay here.” He tries to scoop you up in a warm hug again, but you dig your heels into the ground. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he looks at you again, trying to catch what is wrong,

“No.” Kyle looks you over, eyes open wide, expression of confusion and sadness on his face. Of course, he doesn’t understand.

“You don’t…have anything on you. Then how, how did you even…” You didn’t have any grime on you at all, looking like you just walked through the herd of the undead without any preparation. But then his eyes trail lower and he sees it. Your left hand, cuffed to the rusty radiator. Suddenly the wave of terror cuts through him, like a fine, thin string through a block of fresh clay.

You came here to die.

“They stop paying attention to you once you’re far along enough. So…I guess that’s it.” He hated you for saying that. God, he hated you so much, he wanted to cling onto your body and suffocate you, arms wrapped around you in weak, pathetic attempts to shield you from any harm. “I…I don’t have any time left.” Kyle felt like he got punched in the gut. Air squeezed out of his lungs, wheezing in pain that he felt for you, because of you, chest aching, tearing apart, and baring his heart under the cage made of bones. 

“No. No, no, no, no, you can’t say that! Why are you saying that?” And for the first time, since Kyle saw the bloodied, ragged teeth marks on your flesh, he broke down into minuscule, fragile pieces right in front of you. His voice trembled, frantic and exerted, refusing to believe you even dared to make peace with the inevitable. He grabs your shoulders firmly and his fingers dig into you so hard he can feel how cold you are through your clothes.

Key. He has to release you from the handcuffs. The herd was here, the way the floor vibrated under his feet, and the way gargled moans and sighs echoed outside made Kyle even more agitated. Where did you get those handcuffs anyway? It only takes a moment for him to remember. One of the supply runs that feels like a lifetime ago. Police station. Searching the bodies, or rather, what was left of them, for anything useful. You take out the handcuffs and show them to Kyle, telling him some kind of joke. He can’t remember what it was or the way you smiled, only that you made him laugh. 

He wished instead of quiet rasping he could hear your laugh again.

“Where is the key from the handcuffs, where did you put it?” Kyle jumped to his feet and started looking over the room in a hurry, suffocated by the fear of losing you. He was wishing, hoping that you would show him where you hid the key, somewhere, anywhere, Kyle needed to throw you on his back and run right this moment.

“Fuck, listen to me, listen. To me.” you tried to snap him out of his delirium, with your harsh tone, freezing palms digging the bloodstains Kyle left on your blanket “You know what you have to do.” He shook his head wildly, looking at you like were mad for even suggesting something like this. “I don’t want to become one of them! You have to make sure I won’t come back.”

“Have you lost your damn mind?! I-” Kyle didn’t understand you. How can you say, make a request like this? Something was fundamentally wrong and the bite, the illness were to blame.

“Have you?” you interrupted, pouring all of your strength into this yelling match. You didn’t care anymore. You felt your fingers going numb, black, inky spots dancing on the edges of your vision, taunting you in their vicious dance macabre. You did not have time for his lame excuses and whatever it was he was trying to be right now. “I’m asking you one thing, and you can’t even do that! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You couldn’t feel the way tears burned your cheeks.

“Listen to me, please! I’m not putting a bullet in your head; do I look like a fucking murderer to you?” Kyle pinches his brow in frustration, not even able to look at you right now. Every single suggestion and comment from you stings, fucking hurts and tears him open once again. Because you’re talking nonsense. Absolute bullshit. And you don’t even realize it, he thinks, blinded by your sudden chase after death.

“I’m fucking dying and you’re worried about not being a murderer? Are you being fucking serious right now?” You couldn’t believe your ears, quite frankly. It was the only thing that you had asked of him. The only thing that you wanted. To be finally released. You couldn’t bear it anymore. Your body working against you, living with the constant threat of turning any second, massacring and desecrating Kyle’s corpse as a bloodthirsty, disgusting creature, that will have your face, your body, your hands, and your voice, but not anything that makes you – you. No memories. No love. No inner strength and compassion. Just hunger and urge to slaughter, destroy, and ravage everything in your sight.

“You know that’s not what I meant! Why are you doing this right now?” Kyle felt like he was about to collapse into himself from despair. He couldn’t just do what you were suggesting. And you knew it, yet you chose to ignore it and refuse any acceptance? You always listened to him, even if you didn’t quite agree. You always were patient with him. What’s gotten into you now, what happened?

You don’t have any more time. That’s what happened.

“Oh, so I run away, trying to keep you safe so you live another day and see another one of these stupid sunrises, cuff myself here just so I don’t harm anyone and you can’t even do what I’m asking you to?!” Your voice rises to a volume you didn’t even know you had in you right now, after dragging yourself through the imitation of your former life for a little less than a week. To think your suffering so far lasted less than a week, yet you were ready to end it all right this moment.

Because you could feel it in your bones. You were close.

“Well, tell me, what’s the point of me living if you’re dead?!” You can hear the way his voice breaks in the end. Desperate. Pleading.

The silence rings in your ears with how loud it is. 

“I’m sorry.”  You croak at him after a short while, eyes trained on the dirty floor. Kyle chuckles, the sound that you love so much, but then it’s followed by a muffled sob. He kneels in front of you once again and your eyes rise to meet his. You can’t help but think that he looks even more beautiful covered in rotting guts, with his eyes full of light and love for a doomed failure like you.

It’s almost impossible to breathe from how hard your heart aches. God, you love him so much. You want to take all the pain from him with you, into the vile, putrid abyss. Kyle takes your hands in his. You’re terrifyingly cold. And he’s too warm. You feel tears rising to your eyes, prickling at them, as you fail at your attempts not to break down right now.

“I can’t stay mad at you when you make that face.” Kyle says with a small laugh that breaks into dry sobs, as his shoulders shudder violently with every single one, before he clings onto you, seeking comfort and reassurance, that you’ll be here. With him.

His embrace feels suffocating. It’s so tight you think any more pressure from him will break your bones into yellowish sharp daggers and fine dust. And you’d forgive Kyle if that happened. You’d forgive him for anything, quite frankly. Funny, how now you have the answer to what you would do if he was the one turning. You’d let him devour you wholly, in the ultimate show of love. You’d let him bite into you, whatever he wanted – neck, arm, a leg, he could have. You’d lay in the pool of your blood, muffling your pained cries by stuffing that worn blanket into your mouth. You’d slowly slip away into oblivion, letting your undead beloved gnaw on your bones and taste the love that would seep out of your flesh. You would probably turn a lot faster if that happened too. And then you’d be together for eternity. You knew Kyle always wanted you two to be together. Both in life and in death.

“I’ll wait for you. I promise.” You barely manage to squeeze a smile out of yourself to comfort Kyle, feeling your strength leaving you. Succumbing to the weakness that spread a dull ache over your body, to that festering rot inside of you, that was finally overtaking. You felt cold, thin digits of terror sink right through your chest, sweat prickling once again on your forehead and temples. There was no use clinging unto something that was unsalvageable. Your body and your mind were beyond repair. You knew it. Only he kept you here.

“Please…don’t leave me.” Kyle couldn’t feel anything besides the pain and hot needles jabbing his eyes. Your touch almost felt unreal, how weak, subtle it was. He tore away from you only for a moment, bloody palms cupping your face. His lips pressed against yours in a quick, feverish kiss, and even more pecks like this followed – to your forehead, eyelids, corners of your mouth, and nose. As if this would save you from inevitably losing the remains of your strength. As if you weren’t clinging to your last seconds with him as it is. “Please…please.” He whispered against your skin. His tears glittered like gemstones in the dim glow of the sunset. Kyle looked so beautiful like this. Yours.

He missed the moment when he stopped feeling short, warm breaths on his neck and your body started to get cooler to the touch. But he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet. A little more time, that’s all he needed. So, he lays your head across his lap, carefully, gently. Like he’s trying not to wake you up from a peaceful dream about places far better than this world. Kyle desperately tries to find that strength to make sure you won’t come back, to grant your last wish, but he just…he can’t. Now when you were right here, beside him, getting your well-deserved rest.

But you started stirring back to life unexpectedly, and just when Kyle wanted to say something, he realized, that it wasn’t quite you. The glazed-over eyes with a milky white cloud over them looked right through him, the blood that was dripping down from your nose, ears, eyes, and mouth after your brain finally shut off from the illness. The strained rasp, full of pain and hands that started grabbing and clawing at Kyle with crooked fingers, contorted into bizarre figures.

Kyle’s heart leaped down to his feet again in fear and he forced himself to push away your undead form, reaching out to him, pleading for something he no longer understood, as he crawled away, still facing whatever you turned into. If his heart wasn’t pumping blood through his body as fast he would’ve felt the small cuts from scraping his hands on the dirty floor. But his eyes were on what was left of you.

There were no traces of what he was searching for in this hollow shell, stolen from his love, stolen from you. Crimson trickling down from the mouth, the creature in your shape bares its bloody teeth and lets out a gargled moan, stretching the trembling hand towards him, demanding flesh, demanding sacrifice. And in Kyle’s mind, this isn’t you. This just can’t be. Absolutely not.

Kyle thought about the way you held him in your arms, while he gripped his shoulders in a tight hug. He thought of the way your thumb brushed over his knuckles. His thoughts traveled to the distant past, when you met him years ago in that summer camp, even before the world started rotting, only to be reborn a sick copy of itself.  He remembered your smile when you sat near countless bonfires. The way fire played in your eyes. Your old leather jacket, the tent in your old survivor camp, the older man with mutton chops.

It wasn’t long before a bullet was between his fingers, being drilled by his sharp eyes. Kyle sat there, silent, eyes trained on the gun in his hand, unable to even look at your cuffed undead. Contemplating. Letting his mind stir around, thoughts sticking to the inside of his skull, brewing and bubbling there, like heavy resin. Kyle’s heart sent waves of dull, ringing ache all over his body. His eyes were on fire, burning and raw from tears.

Nothing made sense anymore. Kyle’s endless search through his mind landed on another memory again. Survivor camp in the forest. Ring of mountains to the west. A woman with dark, brown eyes and a shaved head.

“Turning is not the end. They still harbor the memories of their former selves. They’re just prisoners in their own bodies. I know that it’s not the end for them, it can’t be.”

Right now, Kyle would’ve clung to any lie that would explain to him your state. He would’ve believed any tale. You can’t just be gone in an instant, just shedding all that made you yourself like a snake sheds its skin, or a bird picks out the old feathers. How could he ever accept that you were gone, like a puff of smoke on the wind, leaving no visible trace, only the gaping, bloody hole in his heart and years’ worth of memories in his head?

All he ever wanted was to be with you. In life and death.

A minute passes. Another one follows.

A single gunshot echoes through the valley, drowned out by the rumble of the herd.

Taglist - @mockerycrow, @stridersdiner

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