#‘he doesn’t care as long as he gets to fly’ PEOPLE DIED

[holypowell]

this is simultaneously the best and worst thing i could’ve ever seen

[alexiroflife]

"soft"

flufffffffff, reader is burned out, i love me some toji

toji fushiguro x reader

Synopsis: you ponder over how gentle toji has become with you during your time together

to sum it up: you and toji have a casual relationship, but he just may care about you a little more than he leads on

WC: 2,079

Warning(s): vaguely sexual themes

You had never expected Toji to be as soft of you as he is with you.

The Fushiguro’s hardened exterior combined with his intimidating physical appearance in addition to his unique occupation often sends people walking into the opposite direction of his path when they see him coming. He’s an uncommonly large man with a rather inhospitable air about his bulking frame. 

He’s not very friendly, for he’s often glowering daggers into the backs of people’s heads when they pose as minor inconveniences to him during his day to day, such as standing too close behind him in a line to order food or blocking his view of the television screen where the race he has bet on picks up speed. 

Toji’s a frightening man with an exceptional talent for murdering people swiftly and mercilessly. He isn’t the kind of guy you stop on the side of the road to ask for directions, for he exudes the epitome of unfriendliness. 

When you start seeing him, you truly don’t expect much but a passionate fuck and a short text every other week or so. The two of you don’t have an official title to your relationship, therefore you imagine at first that he can’t care less whether you live or die, leave or stay. 

You don’t think he’s a bad guy initially. While he’s rough around the edges and quick to agitation, he has the decency to text to make sure you get into your home safely though not the position to walk you home from his house. He also doesn’t yell at you when you notice that he is angry, though you understand that is not necessarily something that should be praised. When he’s mad, he puts forth his emotion into the way he fucks into you, hands gripping harshly around your waist while you writhe beneath him as the filthiest words you’ve ever heard in your life fly from his lips, then he’s alright, asking if you enjoyed yourself and going on about his night.

You never expected much from Toji, for you aren’t his girlfriend and he isn’t your boyfriend. But as time goes by, you notice his behavior shift ever so subtly toward you. Before you know it, he’s taking you out to grab food more often before your links, he’s letting you sleep over in his bed from time to time claiming that he ‘doesn’t feel like having to worry about you getting kidnapped on your way home,’ and he’s texting you more, randomly; asking about the movies you want to watch the next time you’re over, demanding to know what time you get off of work so you can visit him, and listening to you talk about your day as you curl up into his sheets under his arm, babbling on as he watches you blankly. 

You don’t think he’s listening to you the first time you start chatting a little while after the post-breathlessness of your orgasm has died down, but then he’s mentioning something you briefly mentioned in your rant the next day casually, tossing it into the air like it’s nothing. 

He tries to make it seem like his shift toward you is something he pays little attention to or doesn’t care about, but you know that this isn’t the case. He grows gentler with you both inside and outside of his bed, hand finding the space on your lower back as he moves carefully around you in public, palm lingering for a few seconds too long before it drops. He begins to put forth more effort toward cleaning you up when he’s done with you, smoothing his calloused hands over the aching muscles in your thighs and bum and running you a shower to wash the fluids from your skin. And his jade green eyes melt into something softer when he looks at you, his expression flat but his gaze cradling you within his vision as though you’re a priceless gem he’s just discovered, something that he must admire and protect. 

Your fling with Toji no longer feels like a fling. Instead, his free time is opening up for you, his phone no longer pings with the names of foreign women, and he’s shamelessing telling you to stay with him as much as you possibly can. He acts so nonchalant about it, but you know it’s a sudden, yet pleasant change for the both of you.

What stuns you the most, however, during this steady transition in dynamics between the two of you is the way he first reacts to your rather rare instance of vulnerability. You’re exhausted, work tiring you to the point where you feel like practically collapsing to the ground face first, your mother nagging you about finding a more stable career, and your rent gradually rising with each passing month you spend in your apartment. You’re completely overwhelmed, feeling trapped within your own skin, and you’re so caught up in your stress that you forget Toji is visiting.

You open the door after you hear that familiar knock pattern of his and greet him with tired eyes and a slumped posture. He towers over you, eyes dragging over your figure to analyze your state. His brow quirks when he examines you, stepping into your apartment after you hold the door open for him. The moment he closes the door, he’s onto you.

“What’s the matter with you?” he poses the question lowly, tilting his head to get a better look at you with his hand on his hip. 

That’s all it takes for you to break down.

Embarrassingly enough, you’re ducking your head and crying before him, shoulders tensing as your hands come to shield your face. Your gentle sobs wrack your frame, and you feel humiliated. 

Toji’s eyes go wide as he looks at you, caught off guard. He isn’t sure if it’s something he has said that’s got you crying all of a sudden, but he feels his heart clench at the sight of you in pain. 

“M’sorry,” you sniffle into your palms. “Rough week.”

You half expect the dark haired assassin to turn away and let you melt down on your own, promising to come back another time, but instead you feel strong arms envelope your figure and wrap you into his chest, holding you softly yet with security at the same time. Your shoulders jerk in shock before you’re crying again, the comfort of Toji’s hold absorbing you into his chest as you continue to weep into your hands. “Alright, girl,” he murmurs gruffly, tilting his chin down to rest his lips against your head. “Let it out.”

His hands, tinged with the blood of millions, gripped with the memory of gruesome deaths, caress tenderly over your back as he wraps you up tighter, sheltering you within his mass. You tremble as he holds you, chest quivering as you snivel in a distorted pattern. Toji can feel you twitching uncomfortably against him, trying to catch your breath.

“Breathe,” he instructs with firm consolation, his hand motion over your back soothing into circles. You whimper, attempting to follow the pace of his breaths that you feel rising in his broad chest. You quiver, struggling a bit more before your breaths ease into a steady pace that mimics his own. “That’s right, you got it. Nice and easy,” he says into your hair.

You nod stiffly against him, pushing your hands down from your face to wind tightly around his waist, sinking further into him. He lifts his chin to look down, trying to sneak a peek of your hidden face. He sighs, bending down to tuck his arm under your knees and keep the other firm against your back. Your arms adjust, winding around his neck and tucking your face into his shoulder as he carries you to your room. 

He sits down on the edge of your bed, keeping you swaddled in his arms. He nods his head down to you, nudging against your forehead to urge you to look at him. You pull away and look up, teary (e/c) eyes swimming with sadness and weariness. Toji twists his lips up to the side, scar stretching with his movements, and he stares tenderly at you, lifting a knuckle to brush at the dampness on your cheeks. You shiver, unfamiliar with this delicate, attentive side to Toji. His face is hardened as though he’s mad, but the concern in his orbs and the fragility of his touch tells you otherwise, that he is only concentrated intensely. 

His thumb wipes at the corner of your lips where a tear or two has drifted before inhaling slowly. “You all there with me, now?” he asks, his voice a low murmur, and you nod, suddenly feeling foolish. He hums in approval, fingers smoothing over your hair. “Good. Now who did this to ya?”

You shake your head slowly. “No one,” you tell him. “It’s nothing, it’s stupid.”

“Well, it can’t be stupid if it’s making your pretty self cry.” You gaze up at him with round doe eyes rimmed with pain. Toji didn’t know how much he hates the sight of you upset until now. “Out with it.”

You shrug, sniffling as you unwrap your arms from his neck and lower your hands into your lap, picking at your nails. “I’m just so tired,” you mutter. “Everything’s been so hectic, I haven’t had a chance to breathe.”

Toji’s eyes search your face as you avert your gaze, shrinking into yourself. “For how long?”

You shrug again. “A few months maybe.”

“You ‘been holding everything in for months?” he repeats incredulously. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know…” you frown, a single tear dribbling down your cheek when you blink. Toji’s chest tightens at the sight. “I’m used to pushing through, I guess. Plus, I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Toji’s brows pinch together as he marvels at your words. “Now that’s stupid,” he sighs. “What you need is a break.

“But I don’t get to take breaks. I have to work so that I can keep the lights on, and rent is due in two weeks but I still have-”

Toji ducks down to shut you up with a featherlike touch of his lips to yours. You stop, subconsciously returning the soft peck with a pout, his hand moving to cradle the side of your head. He pulls away, smirking lightly. “You talk too much.”

He’s then standing up, lifting you along with him, and turning around to lay you onto your sheets. He kneels down, pressing a kiss to your knee, taking off your socks and tossing them aside, then shrugging you out of your jacket. You watch him with slightly baffled red eyes as he touches you as though you’re going to break, each brush of his hand against your skin softer than the last. 

He props up his hands on either side of your thighs on the bed, crouching to pepper soft kisses from your hip up to your abdomen, then over your chest to your collarbone and shoulder. He ducks to kiss your lips gently once more before pulling away to meet your eyes. “Don’t you move an inch from this bed, y’hear me?”

“Wh-”

“Don’t ask questions,” he interjects. His hand is gripping your cheek as he kisses you one last time before pushing himself off of your comforter and away from you. “I’ll be back. I’ll grab you some food, you just text me what you want.”

You ogle at him in awe, nose red as you sniff. “But… what about… tonight…?”

“Don’t stress about that. I gotta take care of you first.” 

He tells you he’ll only be ten minutes and to text him your order before leaving your room. 

You freeze up when you see him stick his head in your door. 

“Oh, and let me take care of that rent for you. You just lay out the details when I get back,” he says, and then he’s gone, leaving you stunned and tear-stained. You did not expect Toji to react so swiftly or understandingly to your predicament. By the way he swept you up and held you, you would have thought that you’re his girl. 

You sigh, sinking back into your pillow with a fuzzy feeling bursting in your chest. Who knew that Toji Fushiguro, the man of steel with cold, calculated brutality in the face of his targets, could be so compassionate?

[n0tamused]

HSR/Genshin Characters as Dragons

A/n: guys this series is getting out of hand I think I need to end it (jokes on you I will never stop talking about dragons). I really hope you are all enjoying this as much as I am <3

Contents: Argenti, Boothill, Dottore as dragons, x reader, gn reader, angst, fluff

Ko-fi

Argenti:

-Another pretty dragon to the list, and one amongst the kinder ones out there. A gentle giant by heart, he seeks to protect all beauty and innocence in the universe

-His kind is generally perceived as greedy and hostile, but for all negative traits his species has, he makes up for them tenfold.

-He tiptoes around young ones and anyone too small or too slow, he carries them if need be without being prompted to. Elderly and the kids have grown to love his presence and assistance, however scarce it may be since he comes and goes like the wind, chasing whatever enemy he spotted. Sometimes he can be overbearing with how eager he is to help, be it in human or dragon form

-He doesn’t shy away from his dragon form whatsoever, and since it is made for battle he uses its advantages against his enemies. His scales are quite tough and not many things can pierce him, and the horn in the middle of his forehead acts like a spear. One swing of his head is usually all it takes to take down his opponent

-Even covered in blood and grime after a battle or trial, he still holds a certain air of regality and elegance as he walks down the path to civilization where he goes to get cleaned (idk but I keep imagining a specific image. It's Argenti with blood on his center horn and looking sort of unbothered or innocent. Like those images of unicorns with blood on their horns yk?)

-His spikes are reminiscent of rose thorns, and very sharp.

-While he appreciates all the praise, he doesn’t consider himself worthy of it, and while he does love all the kids running to him - he does prefer that they don’t touch him for the same reason. He is not worthy of it, he is a knight of beauty but he is tainted, and he doesn’t want to taint the little young souls.

-It took some time until he let you come close to his form, and for a little he did feel overwhelmingly guilty. He always carries a sense of guilt and incompetence, he got used to that taste in his mouth

-He would jump into any battle honestly, and especially if it involves you. He grew to care about you a bit too much

-He spends much more time in human form around you, when battle is done and over with he would go to you after getting cleaned and tidied up, wishing to know and hear again that you are alright. And while you talk he always wonders if you were blessed by Idrila themselves, or perhaps you were set on his path by the Goddess of Beauty for him to meet? If this was another trial, he felt like he was failing - and failure never tasted better.

-He prays he doesn’t lose you. He does love to sing you praises whenever he can, and if he is passing by in his dragon form he lets out a little purr/soft chirp.

-Argenti often visits later at night, a rose in hand yet to bloom fully. And by morning, the petals unroll to reveal the deep red bloom, but by then he is long gone, and the conversation is but a memory to you both

Boothill:

-Boothill is a feral dragon, a hostile one and is to be avoided at all costs - many posters around towns say so, and if there is a rumble through the ground you can be sure there are people herding others into the closest building.

-He is nothing to scoff at. If he was a fierce dragon before, the metal, indestructible body didn’t make him any less soft. The IPC certainly had their ‘fun’ with creating him as he is now. They had attempted to put wings on him but the new body was already too heavy, so that idea was scrapped. Boothill did have wings in his previous body, his own wings that took him high above the ground and over lakes and sandy dunes, but now he will never fly again. 

-Nor will he be human anymore. He had died in his dragon form, and the power which allowed him to go between human and beast had died along with his past life. He’s not sure what’s worse - being half machine, marked by anguish and anger, or not being able to see the world from the lenses of a human, from a 6ft height and not 20 or so feet higher than that. 

-He was confined to the ground. But as soon as he had made his escape from the IPC’s clutches, he was gone for good.

-He had done it himself and removed the chips that marked his location and destroyed pieces of him that would have revealed him, and he made use of the ground he knew too well, better than them anyway.

-Somewhere along the lines, he joined the Galaxy Rangers and they patched him up, gave him whatever missing pieces he needed and he found his place among them.

-It took a long, long time for him to somewhat settle in his new body, the phantom pains and limbs never went away though.

-Now, though, whenever he arrives at a new planet he doesn’t take up too much space or makes himself known, he prefers the life of solitude and his own solo missions

-Sometimes someone may bump into him, but they’re never harmed unless they’re a part of the IPC. He has developed quite the keen senses for them.

-However you wormed your way into his, now, mechanical heart, I congratulate you. Seeing how physically impossible it can be to reach him

-But Boothill is quite chill once you get into a talk with him, and although sometimes he can get lost in the talk he does try to keep his voice down to a lower volume so he doesn’t hurt your ears. He’d lay down after lighting a small fire for you, his eye closer to where he can see you “normally” - and not from somewhere in the clouds. And from there on you two would talk and exchange stories. If you happen to be another dragon he’d be more at ease, and more at home too since he doesn’t have to tip toe as much around you or around certain subjects

-If you happen to be another dragon he does love to lock horns from time to time and wrestle a little like that, it gives his real skin some stimulation and something to feel. It may not be a fair battle as he is mechanical, but he tries to make it fair by letting a few screws loose- he doesn’t tell you that though.

-Speaking of that, he did once have his wrist nearly fall off due to this, he was trying to get some more ground to push himself off and the screw just popped out and he slipped, crashing into the ground as if he forgot how to walk

-Regardless if you are just a human or if you can take a form of  dragon, you have earned yourself the scary dog privilege (a dog that is secretly real nice and soft when you are around)

-also side note but in the art I did forget to draw the "thumb" on his hind right leg, apologies but yeah he'd have 5 fingers on all his limbs

Dottore:

-DOTTTORRRRREEEEEEEEEEEE

-Anyway.

-He wasn’t well loved by his surroundings in the place he originally hails from and he was exiled by his own kin, being chased to the edges of his region to be left to the elements - wherever that may be at this point because all records give different answers, and no one who has gone after him has returned alive.

-The hunger for knowledge grew from day to day, he had grown quite obsessive with getting the results he wanted. At this time he wasn’t exactly small, so he’d use the size of his dragon to his advantage as well, be it to frighten someone or to amaze another. It didn’t matter, as long as he got what he wanted. He doesn’t know anything else but the acts of setting a hypothesis and proving it true, or wrong, or finding another result equally as good. Nothing pleased him more than to succeed.

-His original body was paler than the one he has now, and while that could be blamed on growing up, it can also easily be said that it was a result of his experiments, and perhaps this form is just one of his many clones. Who’s to say he doesn’t have a pale blue dragon spying somewhere else while this black beast stalks around the Akademiya?

-His wings have three appendages on them which allow for easy manipulation of items or opponents, so he doesn’t often see the need to revert back and forth between forms unless something is delicate and requires that human touch.

-He is calculating and a mastermind behind many inventions, both mechanical and medicinal based. He can easily cure many ailments or fix up complex pieces of machinery that have long since been lost to histories. He has invented his own too, the clones are the biggest proof and only a small glimpse of what he is capable of. 

-The Omega Build can be said to be the closest to what he looks like in truth, but in terms of personality they can differ a bit. Omega is much more selfish and prone to using charm that the Prime wouldn’t really strive to use.

-Dottore does have the size and strength and all the power he could need to take down anyone, and while he may not be the biggest dragon you should be smarter than to think he can fall easily in battle. He has the power that can match that of an Archon - you really think he would be defeated to someone lesser than that?

-Underneath that mask you may find either his red eyes and scarred face, or an open part of his body that reveals the metal underneath and the red star that act as his eyes.

-He can walk bipedally and quadrupedally. 

-Another thing he is quite proficient at is mimicking sounds, and with that he lured people in. Some papers, implied to be him and some other Akademiya student, talk about how the young female student was lured away by sounds into a cavern, where she was promptly ripped apart. This death was blamed on the starving tigers found in the area, but Dottore knows the real story behind that attack.

-He is quite a good looking dragon, but can easily make your blood run cold with a simple flash of his sharp teeth. 

-You want one of his feathers, you say? Sure, you may have one, he’ll pluck it out himself and hand it to you. But don’t think it will come free.

Size chart:

- Argenti is actually a smaller dragon for his kind

-Had a bit of a difficult time sizing these boys up, but shh

-Dottore was smaller before, but after he began to make clones and also modify himself he grew more as a result of all those experiments (but is this the 'original'? Hmmm)

-Boothill once looked a bit disproportionate in the first mechanical body he had, since the IPC got wrong measurements, or perhaps it was on purpose as an act of some humiliation to break his spirits, along with making him crawl around without limbs as "punishment" (ah yes, I love Boothill lore)

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Tags: @moonlitreveri3 @lexidraws2 @drowning-in-cabbages @creationsabyss @grimulf-of-the-wilderness @st4rrl1ghtwastaken @the-inquisitive-constellation @voiddance @the-bilkush @fictionally-attached

[girasollake]

everything i wanted

ꨄpairing: neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader / jake sully x reader(platonic)

ꨄrequested: no

ꨄtype: mostly angst, some fluff

ꨄsummary: you always wanted to feel appreciated, neteyam always wanted to be the best warrior; in short: u seek validation in older men cause you dont have family and because you are the best warrior, neteyam is jealous of you, the whole fic roughly follows the plot of atwow!!! ummmm kinda enemies to lovers?????

ꨄwarnings: SPOILERS AHEAD, DONT READ IF U HAVENT SEEN ATWOW, mentions of being shot, angst, my bad writing cause i havent written anything since september, reader is a year older than neteyam

ꨄa/n: i feel like this is so bad i am sorry

ꨄword count: 3,402

‘How could you both be so stupid?’ You threw your hands in the air and shot a glare at Neteyam. ‘You could’ve died! Does that mean nothing to you? Your father explicitly told you to observe, not engage! You are like a child Neteyam, both you and Lo’ak!’

‘I wanted to stop him, he’s just too disobedient.’ He avoided your eyes.

‘And you had to take the blame again? He’s never going to learn if you keep doing that.’ You shook your head and sighed.

‘Can you stop? I’m the oldest and I need to protect my siblings.’

‘No. No, Neteyam. I am the oldest. I may not be your sibling but I am the oldest and, believe it or not, I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to them.’

Especially you.

‘You can protect them, be a big brother, but don’t take credit for every stupid thing they do!’ You moved closer to him and snapped your fingers in front of his face to get his attention. ‘I know you want to prove your father you can be a warrior, but it doesn’t mean that you have to put your life at risk when Lo’ak does something stupid.’ You huffed. ‘Just be careful next time.’

Neteyam felt jealous of you, of the way his father trusted you enough to put you in risky missions because he knew you would survive, of the way he praised your fighting skills and of the way he put you on a pedestal. You were born during the first war with the sky people and both of your parents had died fighting. The clan surrounded you with love when you were growing up, but you had never had anyone to call a mother or a father. You were just an orphan trying to find a place alongside everyone that you crossed paths with. So, when Neteyam was jealous of you having his father approval and trust, you were jealous of him for having a real family. When you were younger you would hide behind the trees and watch them cuddle underneath the night sky, your little heart breaking and longing for this kind of comfort and love. Even though you were Omatikaya by blood you still sometimes felt like an outsider. You occupied your time with training, flying, shooting arrows and that’s why Jake was impressed, that’s why you were one of his favorite warriors and he knew he could trust you. He even got you your own gun, which Neteyam and Lo’ak were especially jealous of.

Deep down you knew what this was about. Jake cared about you, but not like he cared about his own children. That was the real reason you were sent on those missions, the reason he took you everywhere with him on fights. He just didn’t want to risk his sons life's. You knew that and you still took part in everything because those were the moments when you felt like you belong.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

‘Can we talk?’ Jake asked from behind you.

‘Of course, sir.’ You nodded your head and stopped sharpening the spears.

He sat down next to you and sighed.

‘We are leaving tomorrow.’ He said firmly. ‘This is not a safe place for my family anymore.’

‘Oh, I see.’ You whispered, a wave of sadness ran through your whole body.

‘I want you to come with us.’ Your ear twitched and you looked up at him with hopeful eyes. ‘And I want you to promise me you will protect my children when I won’t be able to do it myself.’

‘I promise.’ You answered quickly. ‘I’ll do my best, sir.’

He smiled at you and stood up, ‘Tomorrow after the ceremony. Be ready.’ He shot you one last glance and walked away.

The next day you were waiting for the Sully family by the ikrans, your thoughts were interrupted by a loud shriek of Tuk.

‘Are you coming with us (Y/n)?’ She asked after she ran up to you.

‘I am.’ You smiled at her and after giving you a hug she ran back to her mom in order to get on an ikran with her.

While you were checking your bags attached to your own animal, you felt someone intensely staring at the back of your head. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was Neteyam. You never knew why he gave you those weird glances, a part of you wished they weren’t that hateful. At first you tried being friends with him, but after a while his behavior towards you had changed. While you were getting along with his younger siblings, he was always staying away from you, watching your every move. The relationship between you felt like some sort of rivalry, but there was always this warm feeling you couldn’t shake off when you knew he was nearby.

After a long, tiring flight to the Metkayina clan you were exhausted, the thought of laying down was the only one in your head. You made the appropriate gesture towards the Tsahik and the Olo’eyktan when they arrived and you suddenly felt really small under Ronal’s gaze. She started walking around you all, examining your tails and postures.

‘Is this also your child, Jakesully?’ She asked, you could feel her judging eyes on you.

‘No. She’s not my child, but she is the best warrior in our clan and she is important to my family.’

‘Is that true?’ She moved to look into your eyes.

‘Yes, Tsahik Ronal.’ You gave her a long nod and felt the warm feeling spreading in your heart after hearing that you were important to the Sully’s.

She whispered something to herself and went back to her husband who a moment later agreed that all of you could stay with them. You smiled to yourself when you were walking through the village following Tsireya, everything felt so fresh and untouched by war, those people didn’t live in fear unlike your clan. You dropped your belongings on the floor and went over to Neytiri to help her.

‘It’s okay, you can go with others and learn the Metkayina ways, I can handle the unpacking.’ She told you and put her hand on your arm.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, go.’ She smiled sweetly and playfully pushed you towards the exit of your new home.

You ran towards the shore and started looking for your friends. When you finally spotted them you quickly jumped into the water and swam quickly in their direction.

‘Can I join?’ You asked Tsireya when you emerged from the water.

‘Of course!’ She gave you a smile. ‘Follow us everyone.’

After swimming for a while she took all of you to meet the ilu’s and learn how to ride them. You were scared of failure, especially after seeing how fast Lo’ak let go of his ilu. Tsireya helped you get on the animal and told you that you’re gonna be okay, you just have to hold it tight.

‘How could she not be fine? She’s the best warrior after all.’ Neteyam muttered with annoyance.

‘Stop it.’ Kiri smacked his arm.

‘What? She shouldn’t be here, her place is with the clan. I don’t even get why she’s here with us in the first place.’

‘It’s not my fault your dad values my skills more than he does yours.’ You replied harshly and then without a second thought told your ilu in your mind to go forward.

You felt angry at Neteyam, rage was filling your body. You were the best for a reason and you would prove that to him. You tightened your grip on the handle attached to the animal’s body and took the biggest breath in your life before diving into the depths of the ocean. The speed was horrible and you felt your hand slowly relaxing.

No. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

You tightened your fist and held the handle even harder than before. After readjusting your position and squeezing your thighs to feel more steady you felt the oxygen slowly leaving your lungs. You shut your eyes and rode upwards, soon emerging from the water and jumping with your ilu only to dive again. You rode over to your friends and smiled at Tsireya. Everyone was impressed, because this was your first try and it definitely required special skills to get it this perfect. Annoyance was written on Neteyam’s face, he scoffed and started swimming away. You sighed and got off the ilu.

‘Neteyam, wait!’ You screamed and swam towards him.

He didn’t even look back and you reached him after you both got out of the water.

‘Neteyam, what happened?’ You touched his arm and he immediately turned around to face you.

‘You happened.’ He scoffed. ‘I am tired of you taking my place all the time. I try so hard to meet my dad’s standards and it’s never appreciated because of you!’

‘It’s not my fau-‘

‘It is. It is your fault.’ He interrupted your sentence and walked away quickly.

And there it was again. The feeling of loneliness consumed you once again, when the boy you adored walked away feeling only hatred towards you. Sure, you were often picking fights with him, replying to his comments with the same energy, but maybe this time you really did take it too far?

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

You were helping Tsireya with some of the duties one day and Neteyam was far from you, but still in your sight. You were stealing quick glances at him so that your friend wouldn’t see it, when suddenly he quickly swam away and you couldn’t see him anymore. You excused yourself and left Tsireya by herself to go and see what had happened that made him go that fast. The closer you got to the direction he swam towards, the better you heard voices screaming and sounds of fighting. You came over to Kiri, she was softly laughing at the pile of boys in front of her. You had to admit it was funny, but at the same time you were all supposed to be on your best behavior. Because of that, you walked over to them and hissed loudly, their heads turning to face you.

‘Enough.’ You spat and looked over at Lo’ak and Neteyam. ‘Both of you.’

They stood up and walked towards Kiri, you hissed at the Metkayina boys once again and turned around to join the Sully’s.

‘It was going well, you didn’t have to-‘

‘Was it, Lo’ak?’ You stopped and looked at him. ‘You were supposed to be on your best behavior, what were you thinking?’ You turned to the older boy.

He didn’t reply to you, he just took his brother by his arm and walked away.

‘You are both unbelievable.’ Kiri whispered making you turn your head in her direction.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Just tell him you like him already.’ She whined.

‘You know I can’t.’ A sigh escaped your lips. ‘He hates me, Kiri. He sees me as a rival, he despises me.’

‘He doesn’t.’

‘He does.’ You said louder. ‘I don’t want to talk about it anymore, let’s go.’

‘Lo’ak was the one that started that fight, he was just helping him.’

‘I know.’ You replied and looked down, soon arriving at your home.

‘And you? Why weren’t you keeping an eye on them?’ Jake turned to you when you entered the shack.

‘I’m sorry, I was helping Tsireya.’ You avoided his gaze. ‘Next time I won’t let anything happen to them.’

And you were right.

You jumped down from your ikran and landed on the sky people’s ship. Neteyam found his way to his siblings and Tsireya as fast as you, jumping onto the deck from his ilu. You shot your arrows towards some sky people coming towards you.

‘Cut the handcuffs!’ You told him when he reached you.

‘Come on, bro. Hurry up!’ Lo’ak screamed at his brother.

You turned around and saw Tsireya and Tuk jumping into the water, ‘Go! Both of you!’ You yelled at the brothers.

Neteyam started dragging the boy away, ‘They have Spider! We have to help him!’ Lo’ak tugged on his brother’s arm.

You locked your eyes with Neteyam, ‘Shit!’ He hissed. ‘Okay, let’s go.’

‘No, you are not going anywhere.’ You stopped both of them. ‘Go back to your father, right now.’

‘We have to help Spider, please (Y/n).’ Lo’ak looked at you with terrified eyes.

‘UGH!’ You shook your head and hang your bow on your body. ‘Just stay close.’ You told them and ran towards the inside of the ship.

You were quietly moving on the big pipe on the ceiling when some people started walking your way, Spider was surrounded by them in a circle. All three of you jumped down at the people and freed your friend, but then a pure moment of joy was interrupted by gunshots firing your way.

‘Go! Go!’ You screamed and pushed the boys towards a wall that would hide all of you.

Neteyam snatched the gun from Lo’ak and started shooting at the enemies, you pulled out the gun Jake had gifted you and helped him.

‘I’ll tell you when to jump and you jump!’ You shouted and looked over at them, they were rapidly nodding their heads. You gave a few more shots towards the enemies and took a deep breath. ‘Now!’

Lo’ak and Spider jumped quickly into the water, you pushed Neteyam first and jumped as the last person. For a second you felt relief when you heard their happy screams, but it was washed away when you started struggling with keeping your head above the water. Adrenaline started coming down and you felt your lower abdomen on fire.

‘Yes! We did it bro!’ Lo’ak hugged his brother who was laughing softly.

‘Come on! We need to go!’ Neteyam yelled when Tsireya came up from the water riding her ilu.

‘Nete…Neteyam…’ You coughed.

His smile faded and he rapidly swam towards you.

‘I’m shot you skxawng.’

‘Shit! Shit!’ He cursed. ‘Just hold on a second!’ He held you tightly and sat you down on the ilu. ‘It’s okay, just hold on.’ His panicked voice echoed through your ears.

He saw his father standing on a rock and everyone started screaming for him. A worried expression came up on his face when he saw his son holding you tightly.

‘She’s shot, dad, help her!’ They started pulling you up to rest you on the wet rock.

Jake inspected your body only to see a big wound on your lower stomach which was quickly bleeding out.

‘Take her to the village, right now.’ He told Neteyam and helped put you on the animal again.

Neteyam held you in his arms as he tried to ride the animal as quickly as he could without causing more damage to you.

‘Hold on, okay? Don’t you dare die on me!’ He yelled to you.

‘But I am so sleepy, Nete..’ Your voice was weak, but he still heard you.

‘No, don’t sleep, we’re right there, just…Just hold on..’ He finally saw the village and hope filled him up. ‘We’re here, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.’ He looked down at you to check if your eyes were still open and he saw you slowly blinking. ‘HELP! I NEED HELP!’ He screamed as loud as he could which caught the attention of some people by the coast, they quickly ran to get the Tsahik who was helping other wounded warriors.

‘Neteyam..’ You coughed.

‘We’re here, hold on for me.’ He looked down at you again.

‘I see…’ Your voice was getting weaker. ‘I see you, Neteyam.’ You whispered and closed your eyes.

‘No. No, no, no. Help! I need the Tsahik!’ He got off the ilu holding your limp body in his arms.

Ronal emerged from behind the people and told him to put you in one of the shacks. The Tsahik pushed him outside and covered the entrance with a curtain made out of big leaves and seaweed. Neteyam finally felt the tears on his face which previously were washed away by the splashing water. He didn’t know what to do, fear, sadness and adrenaline were running through his body. He waited for what felt like hours and when he felt Tuk’s arms around him all of a sudden he felt safe. His whole family was okay and when he came eye to eye with his father, he broke down crying again. Jake hugged his son and caressed his hair with his hand. A sudden rustle made Neteyam break the comforting hug. Everyone turned towards the sound, Ronal was standing in front of the shack, her expression was unreadable. She locked eyes with Neteyam.

‘She’s alive. Barely.’ She stated.

‘Thank you, Great Mother.’ Kiri whispered and hugged her brother from the side.

‘She needs a lot of rest and I am not certain if she will survive the night.’ Ronal said and started walking away. ‘Do not bother her. Now it is all up to Eywa.’

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Your nostrils were filled with a disgusting smell which made you slowly open your eyes. You saw Ronal putting some type of paste on your wound and you hissed.

‘I guess this means I’m not dead.’ You whispered, your voice hoarse.

‘No, but it was close.’ She replied and wrapped some bandages around your stomach. ‘Rest, my child.’ She whispered and walked out, leaving you alone once again.

After a while the silence was interrupted by Jake, ‘Hi.’ He said as he sat down next to you.

‘I told you I’d keep them safe.’ You weakly smiled at him and he let out a soft laugh.

‘Yeah, I knew you would.’ His smile quickly faded. ‘I.. I wanted to thank you. For protecting them. And I’m sorry for using you so much, on all of those fights… I forget that you are still young, god… You’re only a year older than Neteyam and I’ve never thought something like this would happen to you…’ He paused. ‘You have a whole life in front of you, I’m sorry for trying to take that away and not protecting you.’

‘It’s okay.’ You whispered. ‘I know you only wanted to keep your family safe.’

He nodded and stood up, a tear fell down his cheek. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but nothing came out, he gave you one last smile and walked outside. After a while you closed your eyes because the light started bothering you, but you immediately opened them when you felt someone put their hand in yours. You looked at the way your fingers were intertwined with Neteyam’s and gave him a soft smile.

‘I’m so sorry.’ He whispered.

‘You have nothing to be sorry about.’ You coughed out.

‘I have. I am sorry for getting angry at you, for getting jealous about my father and for..’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ You whispered and stroked his hand with your thumb. ‘And I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t be taking your place by your dad’s side.’

He nodded and squeezed your hand, ‘It’s okay, I know you just wanted someone to be proud of you. Kiri told me how… How you feel like an outsider all the time, because you don’t have…’

‘Parents?’

‘Yeah.’ He looked down at the floor.

‘After all these years I got used to having no one, but when your dad and other warriors from the clan were so proud of me… I just felt this hapiness that I finally belong somewhere, that’s why I always wanted to be the best…I’m sorry again, Neteyam.’

‘I forgive you.’ He smiled. ‘I can’t believe you were ready to die for me.’ He softly laughed and you reciprocated the smile.

‘I can.’ You whispered. ‘And I forgive you too, for being so mean to me.’ Your smile grew wider. ‘But you were cute when you were angry.’

‘Is that so?’ You gave him a long nod. ‘And now I’m not?’

‘No.’

‘Liar.’

Your giggles filled up the space around you and you didn’t even notice when he got so close to your face. You felt his breath on your skin and he put his other hand on your cheek.

‘I always thought you hated me.’ You whispered into his lips.

‘Do you still think that?’

‘No.’ It left your lips more like a breath rather than a word.

He finally closed the gap between you and it all just felt right. His lips on yours felt so right. You finally felt like you were not alone.

‘I see you, (Y/n).’

likes and reblogs are appreciated<3

taglist: @neteyamsgirl @vviolaswrld

[yandere-sins]

So, uh, this is actually the Sintember story I did... last year :’D It’s a year and four days old, but I had it rotting for so long. Not gonna tag it because the poor mod on Sintember doesn’t need to see something so long off, but I hope you guys enjoy it nevertheless!

Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Implied Abuse, Implied Murder), Stalking, Obsessiveness, Posessiveness

Prompt: @/sintember Not again - You thought it was done, it was over. You survived, you moved on. And yet the horror continues. [Part 1]

»»———————— ♡ ————————««  

It took the last of your strength to push the door back into its lock, your whole body leaning into the wood to fight off the raging winds outside.

Heaving a deep breath, you leaned against your only defense against the blizzard, chuckling and shaking your head at your own thoughts. Turning around, you faced the firepit in the middle of your cabin, red and orange flames crackling and dancing, the heat licking at your exposed cheeks, the only skin visible beneath the wool and fur keeping you warm outside.

It felt welcoming and inviting, and you sighed. Putting down the firewood you gathered from outside, you hoped it would dry before the flames died. It was a pain to rekindle a lost fire, but you'd manage. You had always managed; neither a blizzard nor an unlit fireplace would bring you down after everything you've been through. In fact, you much preferred it to the challenges of the past. You'd take the raging blizzard and being snowed in all the time over what you experienced at the hands of the madman you had fallen victim to.

Your memories had kept you awake for most of your life, but they saved you more often than you had thought them capable of. They had always kept you alert and careful, gentle but wary. It was sad that none of them could bring a smile to your face, and you envied innocent children and happy villagers alike for their countless, precious memories. But you had none. If they existed, they were horrifying reminders to be cautious. Maybe that was just how your life would always be.

Peeling off the layers of clothing, you sighed at the relief of warmth driving into your shakey bones and icy skin. It had been worth it, in the end, going through all the pain, the misery. Even though the snow reminded you of the cold winter nights spent in prison with your enemy, huddled together out of necessity, you were thankful for the blizzard as it kept you hidden. The feeling of his hands on your body would probably never wash off, but at least now you were alone. Alone and free.

The next village was so far down the mountain that they couldn't even see your little hut. You'd walk two days to reach it, and two to get back, so you kept your visits sparse, the conversations even shorter. The fewer people knew about the ominous person living on the mountain, the better, and you didn't really need them, only occasionally venturing down for a new sewing kit or fruit you've been craving.

Spring and summer were easy to handle, with a stream nearby for water, birds to shoot, and the occasional goat passing by to milk. Since you were all by yourself, you didn't need much, your garden keeping you fed most of the year. But winter was different. In autumn, foraging and harvesting was still easy. However, you'd never get used to the harsh winters alone, praying every day you wouldn't hurt yourself or you'd run out of luck up here.

But regardless, it was safe. That was your main priority. Some may call traversing through three countries before deciding to settle on a lonesome mountain over the top, but you knew better. You knew that if there was even the slightest bit of chance that your enemy could find out where you were, he would. So, you took the challenges of survival every day in return for your freedom. At least, it had worked. You'd been rid of him for years now, and you doubted that would change any time soon.

Poking the fire, the sparks flying through the air elated you.

You had found solace in the little things, like a burning fire, a hearty stew, plucking the first carrots you grew in your garden and eating the masses of pickled vegetables you cultivated. While you were busy, you didn't think of the past, didn't agitate the wounds it left. Perhaps it was too optimistic to say you were healing from the trauma and the misery, but at least you weren't confronted by it every day. Sometimes, ignorance truly was bliss.

And you deserved peace, until the last second.

After stretching your arms over your head, you leaned down to place the firewood near the pit, hoping it would be dry by the time you'd wake up to stoke the flames again. You looked forward to sleeping in your bundle of blankets, most of them knitted by you and warm as an oven when you slipped beneath them. Maybe tomorrow, the blizzard would have lifted, and you could see if there was any damage to your cabin that needed your attention as long as the good weather lasted before returning to the warmth and safety inside. Every day you got to plan it all by yourself for yourself, but you wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

That's why you jumped at the loud bang against the wood, halting in your tracks, wondering if you misheard. Maybe the blizzard had thrown a branch against your door? It couldn't be possible for anyone to come to visit in this weather, and wanderers would have to get far off the main trail across the mountain to reach your hut as well.

Bang, bang, bang!

This time, you were sure what you heard wasn't a coincidence. No branch or storm would make three consequent drums, with noticeable space in between. You felt your breath hitch as you stood there, motionlessly. Part of you wanted to inquire who it might be, but a bigger part just wanted to stand in silence, hoping they'd leave. There were many dangers when living alone, even if only a single one truly scared you.

"H-Hello?" someone called out from outside. The voice was shivering but youthful, and you felt a knot tie in your stomach at the thought it might be a lost child caught in the blizzard. You took a few cautious steps forward, listening, hoping for a sign that it was safe to open the door.

"Hello? I- I am lost... is there a place to rest tonight? Please, it's so very cold!"

Gnawing on your lip, you made a decision. Anyone daring to thread on a mountain in a snowstorm was foolish and weary of life. Still, they didn't deserve the freezing cold misery that would be dying in the blizzard. You unlocked the door, mourning the loss of warmth you'd experience any second now as you invited the cold and the stranger in, but you couldn't be responsible for their death either.

To your surprise, when you swung the door open, it wasn't the frame of a young teenager or that of a child that awaited you. The figure was lanky but hulking, covered in more clothes than even you had worn. The fur covered all of their body, face hiding behind a mask and under a hat, and the darkness made it hard to see their eyes. They didn't wait for you to invite them in, their body shaking as they took a deep, cold breath before they stomped their snow-covered boots into your wooden cabin.

You let them pass you, too surprised by their appearance to react. You honestly had expected someone younger, more fragile. Not someone seemingly in good health and strong. And thus the stranger stood, thickly veiled in fur and clothes that should have kept them warm but were now dripping as the snow clinging to them melted in the middle of your home, positioned like a statue.

"I-I'll get you a towel and a blanket," you mumbled, shaking out of the confusion and surprise. They still needed help, and though they appeared fine, you knew how tricky snow-related illnesses could be unless you prevented them at the earliest possibility.

Walking to your closet to grab what you needed, you listened to the shuffle of clothes behind you, not minding the stranger stripping out of their snow gear now that they were in the warm safety of your home. You were looking through your options, the presence of another person in your lonely life feeling strange, yet you were too focused on providing help to them to notice the floorboards behind you creaking.

"Found you~"

You yelped as ice-cold hands wrapped over your eyes, letting go of the blanket over your arm as you clawed at the stranger. Suddenly, the voice was much clearer and less youthful, and you were pulled back into a body that felt oddly familiar against yours.

"What are you--" you hissed angrily, prying the hands off your face and falling forward into your closet, hitting your temple against the wooden shelving inside. However, your body knew better, from years of experience, than to falter under the sharp pain, and you twisted around, looking into a scarily familiar face.

"Long time no see, my darling."

Your mouth felt like it had been filled with sand. You couldn't even gulp as you stared wide-eyed at your enemy, the very same one you ran from years ago. The exact same one you never wanted to see again.

"It was kind of cruel to leave me hanging, back at the prison, you know? It was so cold and so lonely without you, so I came looking for you the moment I was free. Ehh~? Did I make you speechless? Are you that happy to see me?"

"No..." you muttered, shaking your head. That couldn't be happening. No. No, no, no.

"You shouldn't be here... you can't be here! I left you... I left you there to rot! I traveled so far, how... How is this possible?!"

Even as your voice bordered on hysteric screeching, you felt the tears of frustration and defeat burn in your eyes. Your whole world shattered as you watched your enemy heave a sigh, his expression turning gentle, empathetic. Reaching out his hands he brushed them along your arm, your cheek, the cold prickling where your skin met. You flinched, jerking back, and he followed, always one step behind you. He was a liar, a complete and absolute liar, and you knew it from the moment he placed his thumb on your cheekbone, wiping away the tears. There was no bone in him that pitied you; his body and mind were filled with glee as he watched your misery bloom.

"Oh, dear."

Closing in, he trapped you between him and the closet, his cold hands cupping your face gently, but his nails dug into the back of your neck possessively. He won, and you both knew it.

"I told you I'll always find you. Took me a while this time, but you can't run from me. You're mine, remember?"

Oh, you remembered. You remembered too well the days lived in fear and the nights spent huddled together on the prison ground, forced into his arms out of need of warmth. The day the guards released you was the one where you swore you'd change your life around. That you'd no longer live in the perpetual horror this man installed.

But here you were as if nothing had changed at all. As if the years running had lost all their meaning.

"I'm so cold, darling," he whispered, even his breath was icy as he leaned in for a kiss. You knew exactly what he longed for, even if you didn't want to give it to him. He wanted the same submission, the same relenting as you had given him in prison, where you allowed him his freedom to assault you with his love. Where you couldn't have fought him even if you wanted to. And now that he had found you, you realized he hadn't changed at all. All he ever wanted was to change your life into the life he always envisioned for you two, where you were his slave, and he had free reign over you, finally getting what he had always wanted.

Your eyes darted to your bedside table.

"It's warmer under the covers," you mumbled against his lips, and he chuckled, rubbing his chapped skin against yours playfully.

"I didn't think you'd be this direct. I like it. Come, darling."

You allowed your enemy to lead you to the bed before climbing on his lap and gripping his hair to force his head back. "Where's this coming from?" he chuckled, and you felt sick just hearing his licentious voice. "No worries, I'll let you hold the reigns if it's what you want. At least for a while."

You'd hear no more words from his filthy mouth or stare any longer into the darkness swirling in his eyes. This had to come to an end, one way or another, but true to his word, he allowed you to guide him to lay down in your bed, hands falling to your thighs and grabbing at your ass. You felt the excitement tenting his pants beneath you, and you knew that in his delusion, he truly thought this was the moment you were caving to his desires, his demands of love that never existed between you two.

But instead, you slipped your hand into the drawer of your bedside table, feeling the cold steel of the knife you kept there for protection. Your past self had been so afraid of him showing up that you couldn't sleep without feeling it. Finally, your anxiety paid off.

You had learned your lesson; the fear would never stop as long as either of you were alive. You'd never be far enough away, never safe, never heal, and never truly be free unless one of you was dead. No one would find his corpse hidden on this mountain; no one would come looking for him, you were sure. And neither would they for you.

You thought you had done a great job getting away; had started to move on and get over what happened to you. But you hadn't. You couldn't do it again. Couldn't endure the horror to continue all your life and couldn't run away far enough to escape it.

You couldn't do it. Not again.

Never again.

[sp0o0kylights]

"I feel him." El insists. "Alive." 

She hasn't said his name since Will first raised them all over the walkie, but every person in the room knows who she means. 

Not that Steve can say his name either.

"But we watched him die." Nancy says gently, before Dustin properly loses it from where he sits in the corner. "Owen's even sent someone back through to check." 

"Yes." El agrees, but it's clear she's frustrated. "He died here. But he's not alive here, he's alive over there." 

"In the Upside Down?" Steve asks, and pretends his voice isn't cracking with desperation and barely concealed hope.

"No!" El snaps, before taking a deep breath and collecting herself to try again. "Through the other gate." 

"Okay." Hopper cuts in, hands waving in some kind of "stay calm" gesture. "El, honey, I think we're all still hung up about the other gate." He pauses, before adding. "And how Creel dying opened it." 

El gives him a thousand yard stare. 

"I'm getting the crayons." Joyce sighs as she stands up. In a mutter she continues, "Should have gotten them to begin with." 

Silently, Steve agrees. 

xXx Eddie xXx

It goes like this.

A bat breaks through the side of the trailer. It swoops low, teeth rattling, but it doesn't attack. 

It emits an odd, echoing screech, before  flying through the gate, to the Rightside-Up. 

"Shit." Dustin curses wildly. "Shit, they're gonna try and invade!" 

"I thought they were guarding the gate!" Eddie protests, as that echoing scream returns tenfold, coming from the mouths of too many demobats. “If they wanted to invade wouldn’t they have done that already!?” 

"No, because Vecna was focused on opening more gates! This must be his plan--to open enough gates to push an army through. We have to lead them away!"

"Dustin-!" Eddie calls out desperately, but finds himself overwhelmed by bats as more and more break through. 

He fights through them, trying to get to Dustin, trying to listen to what the kid’s screaming.

He can’t hear him.

Not over all the screeching, the beating bat wings and the thudding noises as they smack at his head. Their teeth snap, tearing into every piece of him they can reach.

Eddie doesn’t know how long he’s been surrounded, but he hears the trailer door bang open--and shut.

"Dustin!" He screams this time, voice as loud as he can make it.

The kid’s faster than he is.

He’d planned this--or at least, had thought about it long enough to get himself a solid head start, leaving Eddie scrambling after. 

Fighting through the torrents of bats. Abandoning the gate because Hawkins can burn for all he cares--but there are people who don't deserve to go down with it.

People like Henderson, who have bright futures ahead of them.

Eddie tears his way towards Dustin, unthinking, just running.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid-!’ He thinks, but not at Dustin. 

At himself, because he knows the kid. Knows what to expect from how he acts in games. 

Steve even called it--and Eddie’s not stupid enough to think he was talking to both of them when he warned them about not being a hero. He was included purely because Dustin would fuss otherwise and they were short on time.

Dustin’s on the ground when Eddie finds him, and he whips his spear at the few dozen bats that attack him, their bodies circling, teeth biting. 

He gets in two good hits before shit hits the fan. 

To his right something explodes, flames high and reaching, a thunderous boom whipping out so loud that Eddie's ears ring. 

A shockwave nearly takes him off his feet, bandana pulled from his head and freeing his hair. 

Eddie crashes on the ground next to Dustin.

 Sees all the blood and doesn't know what to do. 

"Come on man." Eddie pleads. "Come on!" 

He doesn't get an answer. 

It goes like this.

Vecna’s dead. 

The blast that killed him was from some kind of explosion that took out all of Creel House. 

It fireballed skyward, and the Upside Down rapidly began doing….something, seconds after. 

Returning, Eddie decides, to whatever it was before the asshole got thrown in here. 

Or dying, maybe.

(This is easier to think about than the fact that no one could have survived that blast. That there's a black hole Eddie can see, and it has to wrap miles and miles around the Creel House because he's still near his trailer.

It the trees down the stupid hill didn't make it then Robin, and Nancy, and Steve--

He stops. Shakes his head.

If Eddie thinks about it, it will make it real. 

He can't let it be real.),

The monsters all fall as one, dropping to the ground like puppets with cut strings. 

Eddie had been pummeled by a few demobat bodies before he could get clear, though given how some still occasionally twitch and hop around weakly after, Vecna's death doesn't necessarily equal their own.

Madly, he crushes a few beneath his boots. 

Knows that won't bring his friends back. 

Stomps on a few more because he can't do anything about that, and he can't cry any harder.

It goes like this.

Eddie gets back topside to find Vecna's revenge in action.

 It's an act worthy of a mad god, not that Eddie would ever give him such a title. 

Hawkins wasn't split. It was consumed, with large portions falling deep into the earth that opened under it. Smoke chokes half the town from an outburst of fires, while downed trees and electrical lines make walking a chore. 

The road is a cracked and pitted mess, littered with holes large enough to swallow entire cars. 

Passage is nigh impossible by car, and downright dangerous by foot.

It makes Eddie want to sink to his knees in despair.

There were still people around, that first day. 

There were still people around the second and fifth days too. 

But then the monsters appear. 

They're not the demobats, or demodogs or even the demogorgons that Eddie was told of. 

They're something--else.

Mutated and mutating, taking on appearances that reflect both the Upside Down and the Right-Side Up (a term coined by one of the freshmen--Eddie can't recall which.) 

Actual flowers, great purple and orange looking blooms sprout teeth and attack. Vines stick out of arcade cabinets, carting them around like a hermit crabs shell. 

Some people breathe the falling little pieces of ash and suddenly aren't people anymore.

(It was Erica, who had coined the term. The Right-Side Up. 

Erica who was also deceased, because the fucking explosion didn't just take out the Upside Down version of the Creel house, but the real one too. 

Which meant Max and Lucas and Erica…

But Eddie's not thinking about that.)  

It goes like this.

Wayne's gone.

He'd been at the plant when the Earth had swallowed it, his first day back to work because he'd used all his PTO trying to find Eddie.

The coworker who watched it happen makes sure to tell Eddie his uncle insisted he was innocent. That the old man never stopped looking.

Likewise, the trailer is gone. 

It fell barely a day after Eddie had climbed out of it, one half eaten while the other teetered dangerously on the edge.

There's cops at the borders of the city. 

They’re been commandeered by the military and the feds both, and people in heavy gear prowl around like guard dogs just waiting to be let off leash.

Helicopters fill the air, always circling and searching. Units of men and women begin parading around with guns as they escort tanks and other battle equipment through the streets. 

They're looking for something besides the monsters, and they're happy to cut the phone lines and police the survivors to find it.

No one's allowed in--or out. 

Eddie tries to escape the first few days, after he realizes everyone who knew the truth is gone. 

Thinks maybe he can get to the Byers, and that super powered girl out in California, but keeps getting cut off.

Twice they've nearly caught him, which means twice Eddie has been forced to come to terms with the fact that he's one of the things they're after.

They know him by name.

They know he was involved in Creel's takedown.

Eddie"s not just being hunted by the town now. 

He’s being hunted by the United States as a whole. 

It goes like this.

Eddie doesn't want to die. 

Can't bring himself to take his own life, forever too much of a coward. 

So he berates himself while he hides.

Wonders what the fuck his plan is here. 

Focuses on surviving, stealing food, sleeping in people he loves houses and hoping maybe some of them made it out.

(Given how Gareth's and Jeff's places are both untouched, he doesn't think they did.) 

He’s never prayed before but now he’s praying to every deity he can think of. Hoping, wishing, that if he can’t get out alive, he at least goes down quickly. 

It goes like this.

Steve Harrington walks out of the woods with a nailbat in his hands, like a blood soaked fever dream. 

Eddie doesn't care. 

He hugs him so hard his own ribs hurt and the crazy thing is Steve hugs him back even harder. 

"You're alive." Eddie sobs, face buried in Steve's shoulder.,"You're alive, you're alive…" 

Steve grips him for a moment before whispering back; "And so are you." 

He pulls away and Eddie struggles against him, not ready to let go, fingers grasping at his shirt. 

Steve strokes his hair, his stupid tangled, gross hair and Eddie looks at him, desperately needing the contact to prove that Steve is real. 

That he’s here. 

 "I need you to listen--I'm not your Steve." Steve says, and Eddie’s so desperate for contact that the words don’t register for a moment. 

Not that they make sense when they do. 

"What?" Eddie asks. 

"There’s a--okay.” Steve sighs, before saying; “I am going to absolutely blow the explanation, but I need you to trust me.”

“I do.” Eddie says, even as Steve fulfills his own prophecy, and gives a completely nonsensical explanation.

At the end of it, Eddie can’t bring himself to care. 

As long as he has Steve back--even if it’s not technically his Steve, Eddie will follow him wherever he goes.

[weirdsht]

Longing - LoTCF & Molan! Reader

notes: There's so much I want to include here but it's so long already... I might make a part 2. Also I woke up and decided to change the way I address reader lol. I used to use _____ because it was easier to type but I've decided to go for aesthetics now (disillusioned will still have the same format though so readers won't be shocked with the change).

tags: female reader, death, blood, injuries, angst(?), hurt/comfort

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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[Name] Molan was about to fall asleep when intruders suddenly infiltrated the Molan Estate.

“...Mom I’m scared.”

The 5-year-old clutched her mother’s skirt. Screaming and clashing of weapons can be heard throughout the house.

Her mother said nothing at first. Opting to get her greatsword from underneath the child’s bed first.

“Baby you started learning stealth techniques with your brother right?”

[Name] nodded as she felt her mother squeeze her hand.

“Remember what Dad taught you okay? You might have to use it tonight. Think of it as an exercise to see how well you’ve learned.”

The situation is scary, but despite that [name] feels calm because her mother is smiling at her.

But that doesn’t stop her hand from shaking as she hears their family members’ screams.

Slowly, the mother-daughter duo slithered out of the bedroom. Their main goal is to find Ron and Beacrox before escaping the estate.

Run, hide, roll over, they did everything just to avoid the eyes of the masked people attacking their estate. As they run away corpses of their family members and servants can be seen everywhere they go. The stench of their blood overtook [name]’s senses making her want to puke.

Everything seemed to be going well at first. However, they have been discovered after a few minutes of sneaking around. It was inevitable. With every corner being surrounded by those mysterious people massacring the Molans.

“[NAME]!”

[Name]’s mother just hadn’t expected one of those bastard’s swords to pierce the child’s chest instead.

The Molan Mistress was surrounded. She was trying her best to fend off everyone who dared to hurt her child.

But her efforts weren’t enough.

One of the enemies still managed to slip past her greatsword.

At that moment Beacrox, her first child, entered the room they were in. His eyes were shaking along with his legs as he ran to hide behind her mother.

“Beacrox take care of your sister.”

Her voice was calm. Fitting as the wife of the Molan Patriarch. Her hand tightly clenched on her greatsword. Eyes fierce, their gaze holds a promise of protecting her children.

Meanwhile, Beacrox sat on the ground. His arms cradled his baby sister while also trying to apply pressure to where she was hurt.

“Orabeoni… it hurts… it really hurts…”

“Just hold on a little longer. Father will get here soon.”

Beacrox’s hands are covered in blood. [Name]’s blood. No matter how hard he tries he can’t stop the bleeding. He can’t stop his younger sister’s body from going cold.

“Orabeoni… Orabeoni…”

[Name] tried to lift her small hands, but was too weak to do so. Beacrox shushed her, reassuring her that she’d be fine. That she’ll make it through the night. That they’ll get out of here alive.

She has to. Beacrox doesn’t think he’ll ever be the same if his baby sister dies here.

“I’m scared… Everything hurts.”

Beacrox is scared too. Scared of the copious amounts of blood escaping her little body. Scared of her body slowly becoming colder as the seconds fly by. Scared of her eyes that are slowly fluttering themself close.

“Hey, hey, you can’t sleep yet. We have to wait for Father first okay?”

Despite all of those things, the Molan heir stood strong. He has to. He needs to be strong enough for the two of them.

[Name] tries hard to follow her brother’s orders. However, the task starts to feel impossible to accomplish as time goes on. Sleep tempts her, tells her that if she closes her eyes the pain will disappear.

Her surroundings became more and more hazy and her family's voices grew quieter until she couldn’t hear them anymore. She was fighting to stay awake despite her body desperately shutting down.

“Dad…”

She mumbles as she sees a blur of a person that she thinks she recognizes as her father. 

“It’s okay. Everything is okay now. We’ll get out of here.”

Ron tries to reassure the girl but she can’t hear him anymore. He pressed his fingers on her pulse desperately trying to find one. Once he found it he asked his son to monitor the pulse as he aides his wife.

Bathump

“Baby stay with me. Dad’s here now. Dad will get you out of here.”

Thump

“[Name] you can’t close your eyes. Beacrox try to keep her eyes open!”

thump

“Mom! Dad! I- I can’t! I can barely feel her pulse. She’s also not breathing anymore!”

…thump

“Run. I’ll handle it here. Go with your father!”

“But what about [name]???”

“...It’s too late for her…”

…thum…

…

Only then did Beacrox let go of [name]’s wrist. Even after removing his hand, he felt like he could still hear it.

Her last pulse.

The feeling of it lingered in Beacrox’s hand. He clenches and lets go of his hand, but still…

Still, he could feel it.

Even as he runs away while looking at his father’s back. Even decades later when his serving the Henituse family as a chef. 

That feeling never goes away.

Meanwhile, the one left at the Molan Estate is still fighting. Desperately fighting the intruders with all her might.

She knows she’s outnumbered. She knows that she will die at their hands. She knows she has no fighting chance.

But still, she fights.

In hopes of buying her husband and her son time. In hopes of letting them escape and live to see another day.

And as she expected, she didn’t last long. After a few minutes of swinging her greatsword, he had finally succumbed to her wounds. Her body fell on the ground of what used to be their home. Of what used to be a safe space for her and her family.

Luckily, they left her alone after that. Figuring that she’ll die on her own either way. It gave her a chance to crawl over to her daughter. Gave her the chance to hug her one last time before her inevitable doom.

[Name]’s body was still bleeding. It had slowed down considerably thanks to Beacrox’s efforts but it was still bleeding. But her mother didn’t mind. She didn’t mind the puddle of blood gathering underneath her daughter’s body.

She just wants to hug her child one last time.

That’s why she ignored everything. The sticky blood, [name]’s cold body, her own ragged breathing. She ignored all of it and imagined that they were back in her daughter’s room. That she’s just hugging her daughter to sleep after telling her a bedtime story.

…thump

Ron’s wife wasn’t sure if she heard that right.

…thump …thump

She pressed her ears closer to [name]’s heart and heard the faintest of pulse. It was almost nonexistent. 

But it meant that there was still hope for her daughter.

Gathering her strength. She draped over her body on top of her daughter. This effectively hid her and put pressure on her wound.

She didn’t know if her daughter would survive. But she knows that she won't. This is her last ditch effort to make her daughter live. The only thing she can do with her dying body.

Kissing the crown of her sweet baby’s head for one last time, she let her body finally succumb to its wounds after fighting for so long.

Gasp!

[Name] gasped awake from her sleep as she dreamed of that night again. It’s been a few years since then. She has somehow managed to escape with her limited stealth skills at that time. Managed to go outside the borders of the Molden Kingdom in order to live.

For the first few years, she had to live on the streets. It was a sudden change. From having her own room and servants to barely eating one day a meal. But still, she persevered. It’s what her mother would have wanted.

She has nothing on her except the clothes on her back. She can’t even use her real name anymore for fear that someone will recognize it. 

However, she did have her father’s teachings.

It may not have been much as she was just starting out before their family fell apart. But she still practised them every chance she got. Tries to expand what she knows by remembering what she has read and her experience while living on the streets.

“You’re already taking another job? Go out and play or something! You’re too young to be taking job after job!”

Her hard work paid off in the form of her being a mercenary. She used her skills and wits to qualify for such a dangerous job. In turn, she became a full pledge mercenary at the young age of 12.

Every mission was life-threatening. She never knows if a mission is going to be her last one. But it puts a roof over her head and a warm meal on her plate.

“Nalom, why do you take so many jobs? You already have enough money to last you for at least 3 months.”

One of the mercenaries ruffled her hair but she ignored it. Focusing her attention on the name she was called.

Nalom…

The opposite of Molan.

Cheesy. She knows it was cheesy to make her alias just the reverse spelling of her last name. But she feels like she will inevitably forget her real name if she doesn’t do it.

She might have lost everything that night but she promised herself that she’ll take revenge one day. It doesn’t matter how long it takes, she will get it done.

Hence why she takes job after job. Honing her skills and pushing her limits. Trying to discreetly sniff out any information about the secret organization that attacked the Molans.

“Bud I heard we’re going on a war with Arm?“

The now 27-year-old [name] sneaked behind Bud.

“Nalom! How many times do I have to keep telling you that you’ll give me a heart attack if you keep sneaking up on me like that?”

[Name] ignored the Mercenary King holding onto his chest as she waited for an answer.

“Yes, the veterans will attack their secret base in a few days.”

“I’m included right?”

Bud Illis looks at her as if she’s joking.

��Of course you are. You’ve been here for 15 years. There’s no way you’re not a veteran.”

Good.

That way she’ll finally get her revenge.

“By the way. Is the investigation about our first base done yet?”

[Name] could see Bud’s shoulder tense at the question. She honestly didn’t care much. It was devastating that it had been blown up and the directory is now gone but it’s not like anyone from their side died. So it’s not her problem.

Well at first at least.

Until she heard the rumours that the one who attacked the directory was Molan’s last patriarch.

“Not yet. I wasn’t there when it happened and we’re putting all our efforts into the upcoming attack that’s why the investigation is taking longer.”

She could sense that Bud was only telling half the truth but she let it go.

“Say Nalom, did you learn your stealth techniques from someone?“

The Mercenary King asked just as she was about to go out of his office.

“No, I learned during my time living on the streets.”

A half-life. It was only fair since Bud also lied to her.

With that [name] closed the door behind her making her unable to hear the conversation that happened in her absence.

“Her techniques feel similar to Patriarch-nim…”

Bud mumbled under his breath once the stealthy mercenary was gone.

“It’s different but their foundations are similar.”

Glenn agreed from the couch. Both of them wondered if there was a chance that Nalom was somehow connected to the Molans.

“Where’s the kid?”

One of the mercenaries asked as they prepared to attack Arm’s secret base.

“I don’t know, you know how Nalom is. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Another mercenary reassured the guy.

“Nalom? Who’s that?”

Cale asked Bud who was also trying to look for the missing mercenary.

“She’s our youngest veteran, only 27-years-old. But she’s the best among the mercenaries when it comes to stealth.”

Bud checked one last corner before sighing and giving up.

“She was here just a second ago… Well, it’s not like she can’t handle herself. But she has never gone on her own during large-scale attacks.”

The Mercenary King decided to trust the missing mercenary and continued with the original plan.

“Who goes there!?”

Beacrox hears a familiar yet foreign voice ask him as he dodges a flying dagger.

“I should be the one asking you…”

Brown hair that was the same shade as his own greeted him. Her one hand preparing to throw another dagger while her other hand was clutching on a flag that had been drawn on.

22 years. It has been 22 years since he last saw his little sister. His last memory of her was her body growing colder in his arms as he felt her pulse slowly stop.

Even today he could still feel her pulse linger in his hands.

“[Name].”

Beacrox called out. If only he knew that it was the first time in 22 years since anyone had called [name] by that name. 

He could see the mercenary stop in her tracks. Her arm lowered as she processed his voice and the name he called her.

“Orabeoni?”

She asked and Beacrox nodded. Yes, it’s him. It’s her orabeoni. 

[Name] slowly walked towards him. Her steps slow and staggering. Almost falling in his arms once she was close enough.

“It’s you. It’s really you. You’re alive.”

She cried in Beacrox's arms and for one he didn’t mind that his clothes were being tainted. He’ll take as much dirt as he needs as long as he can hug his sister in his arms.

Bathump. Bathump.

Instinctively his hand reached out to her wrist. The same wrist he held onto that night. But unlike that time, her pulse is loud and clear. Full of vitality.

Alive

“What’s taking you so long? I thought you were going to check out who was sneaking around your sister’s room?”

Ron’s voice echoed through the halls as he walked closer to where the siblings were.

“Dad’s alive? It was really Dad who blew up the first mercenary base?”

[Name] heard her brother hummed in affirmation. His chest vibrates against her cheek as they are still hugging each other.

Ron’s footsteps were silent but [name] could sense that he was close. Letting go of the hug, she stepped outside of her room to greet him.

They didn’t say anything. They don’t need to. 

For Ron will be able to recognize his daughter anywhere.

That’s why he didn’t say anything and just accepted his running daughter with open arms. Hugging her tightly, as if trying to make up for the two decades they have been apart.

“Dad I was so lonely. I was so scared.”

She confided in her dad. The veteran mercenary who’s the best in stealth and wields double daggers is gone. In the arms of her dad, she’s simply [Name] Molan. She’s just the daughter he loves. 

The daughter he thought he lost.

“It’s fine now. Everything is fine. You can tell your dad everything that happened.”

Ron stroked his daughter’s hair. His hands shaking ever so slightly.

Tears gathered in his eyes but only Beacrox noticed them. 

The chef said nothing about his father’s vulnerability. He stayed silent even when a lone tear managed to escape his father’s eyes.

His strong father. The same one who bulldozed through everything just to keep him alive. The same father who worked hard to train him while discreetly investigating the organization that attacked them. His father showed no weakness.

That same father of his has been overcome by emotion.

And Beacrox can’t say anything about it for he was the same.

[yawnderu]

Nikto x Bimbo!Reader really doesn’t seem to well, work…given how Nikto would kinda be too TOO much of an opposite for Bimbo!Reader.

Introducing Vulture!Reader, the girl that has a huge amount of trash bags in her trunk, and said trunk always smelling of decomp. She collects bones, road kill, passed pets, anything with bones she’ll collect!

I feel like Nikto would literally be a stray cat leaving gifts for her, bringing her dead things. Than generally being confused at first as she gets excited over finding things such as- finding a dead buck (deer with horns idk some people don’t know I’m sorry 😭), bird flys into the window- and she’s excited hoping it’s dead and not to ‘broken’ so she can collect the bones.

Getting to first know each other and she goes, “wanna see my cat?”. Than she showed him a full skeleton on display along with a bunch of shelf’s filled with bones, skulls and even small taxidermy.

-🩻 (I thought Nikito would be interested in vulture culture, how she can show him things can be loved even when they’re long gone. How there can be beauty in death, and that she continues to care and love for things even when their dusty bones <3)

AHHHHy yesyes!!

Nikto would absolutely adore a vulture!reader, despite being put off by the entire thing at first. She's too weird for a Russian man— for any man, honestly, yet he still finds himself interested in her rambles about bones and dead things, even going as far as to bring her bones he finds while out on missions, the glare he shot his mates when they gave him questioning looks from collecting bones for you was enough for them to never ask about it again.

Even if her house made him slightly anxious at first, it slowly becomes a safe haven for him as well, seeing how much love and care you love things that aren't alive anymore, most of them reduced to nothing but bones, yet you still dust them and talk to them sometimes. There's a part of him that hopes one day, if he dies in a mission, you'll be able to show him the same love and respect. Bonus points if she's a mortician.<3

[minnaci]

CALM AFTER THE STORM

contents: nanami kento x gn!reader, jjk s2 spoilers (shibuya incident), hurt/comfort, reader is implied to have died years before the shibuya incident, cooking together as a love language, kissing, reunions, death

what is death if not a new beginning?

or, nanami makes his journey to the afterlife. it's not so bad.

it's strange, nanami thinks. he had forgotten what it meant to move without pain, and yet here he is, dancing without a care in the world. his joints don't crack, his knees don't ache. he could have sworn he had injured his eye, and yet, here he is, witnessing the ocean in its full, unfettered glory.

pantai cenang is beautiful. idyllic. not a curse in sight. nanami takes a moment to soak it all in. fine white sand. crystal blue water. coconut trees. there's a distinct lack of people— surprising, given how popular the beach is with tourists— but nanami knows better than to question such a blessing.

there's a little cottage in the distance, one that doesn't exist on any map. in his heart, nanami knows you're inside, humming as you wash the vegetables you'd picked from the garden. it's been too long since he's seen you, held you in his arms. months. years. his heart squeezes. ah, that familiar ache— yearning. he quickens his pace.

absence makes the heart grow fonder. in his mind's eye, you twirl in the sand with him, feet nimble. he spins, more graceful than he’s ever been. he soars. he falls. fighting is dancing in the same way that the waves batter against the shore— beauty and violence, art and destruction.

nanamin! a shout echoes across the water, and nanami lowers his arms, turning on instinct to the familiar voice. even in his retirement, it seems that he can still hear the voice of his loudest student.

ah, he's exhausted— this is what he gets for indulging in the sun. he can sense your frown already. you'd always fretted over him, all soft hands and gentle touches.

the scent of blood rises on the wind, but there is no fear. even sharks need to eat. such is the way life and death dance together.

nanamin! the voice shouts again, or maybe it’s an echo of the first call, bounding across the surf. his fatigue overwhelms him like falling in love— slow, then all at once.

he is so, so tired of fighting.

faster than he can comprehend, there’s a firm pressure against his stomach. a mosquito buzzes around his face. he swats it away idly. there’s something he’s forgetting. something important.

nanamin!

ah. that’s right. he doesn’t have to worry anymore.

“itadori,” he says, voice carrying over the waves. “you’ve got it from here.”

there’s a gut-wrenching snap in his core. it severs something vital, and yet… he’s never felt more alive. he is a hollow-boned creature, like the birds. finally, the weight of the world is no longer his to bear.

your presence calls to him, draws him in from across the beach, and he turns towards your siren’s song. his lips form the shape of your name. in the blink of an eye, his hand is on the doorknob to your cottage.

"i'm home."

you whip around so fast that nanami almost fears your neck will snap clean in two. “kento?”

“it’s me.”

there’s a split second where the world freezes. the light from the late early evening sun dances amongst dust motes. your lips part, and nanami trembles with the force of his want for you.

then, like the tide to the moon, like planets to a star, you crash together. you fly across the room into nanami’s waiting arms, two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place. when he kisses you, you taste like salt, like grief, like joy. it makes him want to kiss you more, kiss you harder, so he does.

you pull away, and nanami only just resists the urge to chase your lips.

"you're... so early. i didn't expect to see you here for a few more decades." you cup his face, fingers tracing over the familiar curves of his cheeks, his jaw. nanami turns his face into the affectionate touches.

"and leave you to eat dinner alone?" nanami leans in again, kissing the tears from your cheeks in a few quick, fluttering brushes of lips against skin. “i’m officially retired. where else would i want to be, if not with you?”

“you’re so romantic today.” there’s a choked quality to your voice.

oh, nanami thinks. it’s really been too long. “i’m romantic all the time for you.”

“i missed you.” apropos of nothing, the words tear from your chest, like you can’t hold them back anymore. your face crumples. heat pricks behind nanami’s eyes as you bury your face against his chest, frame trembling with the effort of holding back your tears. “i missed you so much.”

comfort has never been nanami’s forte, but with you, it’s as easy as breathing to hug you closer, to make soft, soothing sounds, to rub gentle circles over your back.

“i missed you, too,” he says, a confession. the world swims in his vision. he blinks rapidly. “more than you could ever know.”

he rocks you back and forth, back and forth, holding you as you shake apart in his arms. there’s no pressure to perform, no shareholders to impress, no curses to exorcise. only you, and your love, and your touch.

and he gets to have this forever.

nanami’s not sure how long you stay there, only that his skin still hungers for yours when you press a teary kiss to his cheek and maneuver out of his hold. you sniffle, wipe your eyes, and offer him a familiar apron with a watery smile. “here. you still remember how to cook, right, mr. salaryman sorcerer?”

“what are we making?” nanami takes the proffered apron. i’m the cook, it reads. he glances down at your apron, already knowing what it says. kiss the cook. the corner of his mouth twitches up.

“hainan chicken rice,” you say. “when in malaysia…”

“of course,” he says. “pass me the knife.”

it’s been a while since he’s handled a sharp blade. the handle sits in the palm of his hand— rough, worn smooth by years of use. a tool of the home. he finds that he likes the weight of it.

the rhythm of cooking is an intimate waltz. one, two, three. he crushes the garlic under the flat of his knife, then minces it. bits of garlic cling to his fingers, and he picks it off, shapes it into a pile. the papery peel is swept aside, to be returned to the earth.

the edge of his blade is used to peel ginger. short, quick strokes— not a motion wasted. when he’s done, the ginger’s aroma tickles his nose, as sharp as his knife. he slices it thinly and places it next to the garlic.

you heat oil in a pan as he works, humming a low melody. he hasn’t heard it in years, but it’s as warm and familiar as the bed you share. when the oil starts to sizzle, you add in his minced garlic, his sliced ginger. the scent spreads through the room, savory and safe.

you produce rice from a small rice cooker. it’s not ideal to use freshly cooked rice in fried rice dishes, but nanami has every confidence you’ll manage. while you stir in the chicken fat and bullion, he looks around for something else to set his blade to.

cucumbers, fresh from your garden outside. nanami taps one gently, a faint smile pulling at the edges of his lips at the hollow, satisfying thock. it’s quick work to peel them, revealing pale green flesh. it’s even quicker work to slice them. he loses himself in the task, in the comfort of your presence, and lets his muscle memory take over.

“are you using your technique on those poor cucumbers?” there’s a smile in your voice. nanami glances down at the cucumbers, and sure enough, they’re sliced in uneven fractions of 7/10.

the motions of violence are not so easily forgotten, but true peace lasts only in the memory of war. nanami gives you a small smile, presses a soft kiss to your temple, and resumes cutting his cucumbers— evenly, this time. even the sharpest of blades can be repurposed.

dinner is a quiet affair. two plates, two cups of tea, two settings at the table. conversation flows as easily as wine. your foot nudges against his calf— once, twice. he nudges back, delighting in the radiant smile that you can’t seem to hold back.

both of your plates sit empty upon the table. the last dregs of tea cool in your cups. cleaning up is quick, made quicker by long-established routine: he washes, you dry. on the last of the dishes, he leans into you— a silent request. you lean back— acquiescence.

he will never tire of touching you. instinct is a trembling little creature in his heart, and you are the soft hands that soothe him, letting him pull you flush against his chest. minutes drip into hours, and the sun begins its slow descent as he cradles you in his arms. somehow, you migrate to bed, and then everything is warmth and love and perfection.

these quiet delights, this tender intimacy— nanami revels in it, revels in this little life, this future you share.

“the sun is setting,” you murmur, a tender look in your eyes. you’re a vision painted in gold light, an angel in soft sheets. he could soak in you forever. “it’s almost time to go home.”

“is home as good as this?” he takes your hand, presses a kiss to the back of it.

“it’s better.” you slip out of bed, and he follows you outside. a gentle breeze ruffles his hair, brings him the scent of salt and the sea. the sun dips lower on the horizon, and yet, the light only brightens. it’s not harsh, but a gentle, beckoning warmth.

“are you ready, kento?”

“you’ll be with me?” it wouldn’t be a home without you.

“i will. i promise.” you take his hand, lean in, press a kiss to his cheek. tension drains from his shoulders like the low tide. a home with you is more than he could have ever dreamed of. “let’s go home.”

together, you walk into the light. neither of you look back.

tags: @angelshub @enchantedforest-network

[dreamchasernina]

So since the fandom has come back to life and there is not enough Kataang content on this app I will start sharing my two cents. Yay.

I want to start off by saying that as the show was airing, I, as a 10 year old, did kinda ship Zutara. Let’s face it, that scene in the catacombs was a turning point for a lot of shippers. But that was before I saw the final season a couple of years later. When I rewatched the show as a whole, as a teenager I was over Zutara, honestly their interaction kind of felt awkward to me, because they were enemies for so long. So I was all for Kataang. Now, that I’ve rewatched it for like a 1000th time, as a 28 year old, I finally see Kataang for the amazing pairing that it is.

Anyway, I’m not here to hate on anyone, you can ship whoever you like, and I love Zuko so you will not see me slandering his character here. Plus I don't feel the need to hate dump on a character to make my ship feel superior (*cough* unlike some Zutara shippers *cough*).

Ok, so. I feel that when people think of Katara, and her part in the show, they remember her as the responsible one in the group, the "mother" of the group, the sensible and caring one. Yes, when Katara’s mother died she had to step in and take the responsibility of the mother in the family, like Sokka says in the Runaway, and that stayed with her throughout the show. But, I hate that that’s the only thing she’s remembered for, because that’s just the result of her trauma. I feel like most people ignore a very crucial part of her character. Yes, she is the responsible in the group, but when she gets a chance to just be a kid, that's what she is.

People forget about the fun loving side of Katara. The one that goes penguin sledding and remembers how she hasn’t done it in a long time because life hasn’t allowed her to. The side of Katara that gets obsessed with Aunt Wu’s prediction because she is just a regular girl who’s fascinated by her love life, and dreams about what her future husband might be like. The girl that tries flying on the glider with Teo. The girl that relaxes on Appa and lets the hippie girl braid her hair, completely forgetting about the next task in their journey. People forget the side of her that dances in a cave, forgetting about the war and just enjoying life. Let’s not ignore that whenever Katara has a chance, she just enjoys being a kid, not just a badasss waterbender travelling with the Avatar.

And when Katara brings that side out, you know who’s right by her side? Aang. He’s not just by her side, he’s the one initiating those little fun moments. Penguin sledding is his idea, he’s the one to remind her that even though she’s been through a lot, and has a lot of responsibilities, she’s still a kid. He’s the one to organize the dance party, in a middle of a war, in the enemy's terrorory, he still finds a way for them just to be kids. And she’s right there with him, dancing. He’s also taking part in her obsession with Aunt Wu, not belittling or making fun of her faith, but taking part in it. Also sitting right next to her in a flower crown and enjoying the music the hippies play.

You cannot ignore that part of Katara, the part that shines when she’s comfortable, the part that just wants to be a regular kid and have fun. And that’s the part that Aang brings out in her. He’s the Avatar, the weight of the world is literally on his shoulders, but he still finds a way to enjoy life and be a kid, even after going through the worst trauma you can imagine. And he’s there to remind her that even if you’ve experienced the worst, you can still find joy in the little things. She literally says in the first episode - Aang brought something we haven’t had in a long time - fun. And that’s what he brings to her, this light, and that’s why she’s so drawn to him.

Isn’t that what we want for Katara, after the war is over? To just let herself be a kid, not to miss out on that part of her life, now that she doesn’t have to worry about their survival? And the best person to bring this joy and childlike wonder back into her life is Aang. And that’s why I think that Aang is truly the best one Katara could have ended up with.

[fiveredlights]

buck and eddie but maxiel??? consider me intrigued

“You have a child,” Max echoes quietly, gripping the door handle that’s digging into his back. The takeaway and beers he’d foolishly brought over as a distraction abandoned on the floor, the fall cushioned by the hallway mat.

Daniel looks up sheepishly from where he’s sat on the couch, a child wrapped up in a blanket in his arms. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, his curls wild and wearing an old, stretched out shirt that’s loose enough to show to the top of Daniel’s tattoos on his collarbone.

“Yeah.” Daniel croaks out, grimacing as he stands up from the couch, the child still in his arms. “Surprise?”

how daniel acquires this child i haven’t decided yet like maybe a bird dropped a baby on his doorstep or more realistically someone he had a one night stand with got pregnant and didn’t tell him but that’s a problem for future me.

anyways they start coparenting this child without realising it. when daniel has to fly down to australia for the race (because marketing doesn’t care he has a new baby) max kicks everyone off his plane just so it’s them three.

max uses the baby to get out of events he doesn’t wanna do like “oh no i can’t do that i’ve gotta look after the baby” and people are like “but they’re not your baby” and max is like “okay bye” and just doesn’t show up.

daniel has updated his will to say if he dies max looks after the baby and doesn’t tell him until months later like lol yeah this is a thing i did and max is like aw how nice that you trust me as a Friend to do that and probably everyone around them slams their head into tables because how dense can you be.

fast forward to when the baby grows up and can form thoughts and talk, they are very confused to find out that their parents aren’t dating. like this child was under the assumption that his parents? together. wedded. married. engaged, maybe. like yes friends can raise children together but this isn’t that.

max and daniel then proceed to have an awkward conversation with their kid like “yeah buddy no me and max are just friends” and their kid is like “but you love each other and not like the friend love like i love sally or whoever but the love love like how uncle george and alex or grandma grace and grandpa joe look at each other” and daniel’s like 🧍‍♂️

(max is like okay buddy we’re gonna get ice cream and let your dad process some thoughts because i’ve already been at the station a long time)

they go to bed that night and before they part ways into their seperate bedrooms daniel’s like “why aren’t we dating. like we live together, raise a kid together, travel together—” and max literally dives down and kisses him like “great i was wondering when you would get there i’ve BEEN waiting!”

daniel: how long have you been waiting

max: maybe since 2017 but probably 2024 is when i actually realised

(daniel almost passes out again)

tldr: whatever buck and eddie have done to each other to parent-trap each other with christopher but maxiel.

[brandwhorestarscream]

Have you ever considered TFA Team Prime defecting from the Autobots? Considering that most (if not all) of them have been wronged by Autobots in the past and then learning of the heinous things they’ve done while keeping it a secret from the public’s eye.. That would definitely make them question if they’re even on the right side of the war in the first place.

I like the idea of them defecting from the Autobots but not quite becoming Decepticons either. Maybe they’re on a more neutral ground, only stepping in if the Decepticons bother the human cities but otherwise just not even bothering to help the Autobots.

I feel like Optimus would be the most betrayed. He fought valiantly and literally died for the Autobots only to find out that not only did they not even care, but they had turned around and wiped entire cities off the face of Cybertron and then lied to their faces about it. It would definitely disillusion him. He fought so hard to be an Autobot and for what? For them to be the people he was supposed to be saving Cybertron from all along?

No, he wouldn’t help them anymore. Not when they clearly couldn’t give any less of a damn about him and his team, not when they didn’t give a damn about all the people they’d hurt in pursuit of their selfish goals, he wouldn’t lay his and his team’s lives on the line just to be betrayed again.

Sentinel calls them traitors, useless maintenance bots, any insulting thing under the sun he can think of, he yells it at them when he finds out about Team Prime leaving the Autobots. Optimus takes the insults towards him, he’s so used to it by now that it doesn’t even hurt anymore, he just accepts it. But the moment Sentinel turns to target Bumblebee when he makes a snarky comment, Optimus snaps.

Sentinel doesn’t see the fist flying at his face coming.

When the Elite Guard leave, Team Prime now just spends their time watching over the protecting the human city. Since Team Prime refused to fight the Decepticons anymore unless they were attacking human cities, the Elite Guard is on Earth more often now, and that makes things very tense between the two teams. Optimus stopped caring a long time ago, though.

Ooo maybe after Team Prime leaves, the Decepticons take notice of how strained things seem between the Autobots and Team Prime, and decide to for a truce between them; they stay away from the human cities + try to keep the Elite Guard of their backs and Team Prime doesn’t attack them + does favors for them every once in a while.

Maybe this ends with Team Prime joining the Decepticons. Who knows. I just wanted to write this for fun lol

Let me know what you think!

Unironically I play with the idea of TFA Team Prime leaving the autobots a lot, one of our favorite subjects in discord

But like. I'll be so honest. I think they'd have to join the decepticons eventually, for their own safety

The TFA autobot government is brutal. Cybertron's state is ruled by the military, everyone is forcefed propaganda from the day they're born, and they're brainwashed into perfect conformity, constantly told that they're little more than a cog in the machine and to die for the greater good is not only commendable, but expected. Their lives as individuals do not matter, and like with any cult, anyone who tries to leave shall be brutally punished.

If Team Prime tried to secede, the elite guard would come to collect and imprison them as traitors. I wouldn't put it past them at all to, at the very least, get into Ratchet and Bulkhead's brains. One is the last imprinted handler of a Supreme, the other is the leading expert on space bridge engineering. They don't need those two alive, but they do need their processors. The autobot council wouldn't hesitate to do to them what they did to Perceptor--"deleted his personality to make room for science", my ass. Call it what it is: shadowplay. They did it to their head of science, or perhaps he became their head of science because they took his emotions away, they won't have any qualms about doing the same to Ratchet and Bulkhead. After all, if you have no emotions, you have no moral compass, and will just do as you're told forever. Exactly the way they like it.

Sentinel's a huge glitch, prtty and vindictive as hell: if Optimus hit him for insulting Bumblebee and then announced that they were leaving the autobots, he'd have them all detained and arrested. They'd all get hauled back to Cybertron, split up and separated: Ratchet and Bulkhead to the labs to be reconditioned, Optimus and Prowl likely to have their memories erased and altered because they have skills that can still be useful, and Bumblebee... well. They (Sentinel) would deem him useless and have him banished to one of the gated communities where the undesirables go, those that have failed to contribute to the great autobot machine, but aren't bad enough for prison or execution. Basically a giant walled in, inescapable homeless camp, where the likes of poor TFA Beachcomber and Wheelie live.

Leaving the autobots and becoming neutrals would not work out well for them. The Elite Guard would never just let them walk away: they know too much. Ratchet, the most experienced by far, knows that, and as much as he hates it... allying themselves with the decepticons would likely be their only chance. They won't be able to run forever, especially with their ship inoperable, so unless they wanna go back to Cybertron in cuffs and lose themselves to the system... they'll have to strike a deal with Megatron

[momentov1vere]

Assigning PJO/ HoO characters to Knights Radiant orders (+ my reasoning)

I put too much thought into this not to share it somewhere so here’s a sort-of character analysis that is much longer than it needs to be (bc I was bored and stuck in a car for 10 hours) :)

Not sure how much of a crossover there is between the PJO and Stormlight Archive fandoms but this was mostly for fun (and I want to see what happens lol)

Here we go!

——————————————————————————

🔱 Percy Jackson : Stoneward

The powers don’t rly fit (Cohesion- manipulating objects at a molecular level- & Tension- changing the stiffness of something) but none of the Radiants have water powers so 🤷‍♀️

Loyalty is pretty much the #1 belief of the Stonewards (“Though sometimes gregarious, they are never flighty. If a Stoneward is your friend, they will be there for you”) and Percy’s fatal flaw is literally loyalty so that’s that

Percy is said to be one of the best fighters seen like anywhere in a long time and Stonewards are the order that is viewed as the best soldiers of the Radiants

They like a challenge and will often take on more than they can handle (like Percy choosing to take on the Great Prophecy)

Stonewards are also good at being able to find a solution to a difficult situation with only few resources and Percy often comes up with things on the fly/ improvises

I struggled SO MUCH picking one for Percy oh my god he had similarities to like half of them (I almost made him a Bondsmith or a Windrunner but they didn’t seem right)

🦉 Annabeth Chase : Elsecaller

Powers : Transformation (changing an object into something else- aka ‘Soulcasting’) and Transportation (looking/moving between realms); Annabeth likes creating new things (architecture) so there’s a bit of a connection to the Transformation power even tho she doesn’t really have powers

Elsecallers are always trying to reach their full potential, like how Annabeth is always be seen trying to learn new things and become the best version of herself

They are regarded as the ‘wisest’ Radiant order (just like Annabeth/ the Athena cabin are viewed as the ‘wisest’ demigods)

Annabeth always has her goals in mind but also always trying to lead and encourage others (like Damasen) which is common amongst Elsecallers

🐐 Grover Underwood : Edgedancer

Powers: Abrasion (altering the friction between surfaces) & Progression (quickly growing organic objects faster than normal- including plants, skin, body tissue, etc.)

He’s able to make plants grow faster using his magic reed pipe so that would translate into Progression

Abrasion would kind of fit for him too, bc of the goat legs (he’s able to navigate more difficult terrain than humans)

Edgedancers care about the ordinary/ overlooked people of the world and spend most of their time making sure those people are protected. Grover cares deeply about nature/ animals and always tries to protect them bc humans often deem nature unimportant (nature = ordinary people in this scenario)

☠️ Nico di Angelo : Dustbringer

Powers: Division (control over destruction/ decay) and Abrasion

I don’t know if Nico has anything that really fits the Abrasion power- except for maybe the fact that his shadow travel helps him get places quickly- but Division is definitely similar to his power over death/ earthy materials

Dustbringers typically don’t get along with others (including people in their own order) because of personality differences and stereotypes about their powers like how Nico is often ostracized at first bc he scares people

☀️ Will Solace : Edgedancer

Powers: Abrasion & Progression

Will is a healer so Progression would be a good power for him to have; while he doesn’t have any powers similar to Abrasion I think it would be useful for him to have to get to injured people faster

Will cares about everyone and will do his best to heal anyone because he doesn’t want anyone to suffer, and he doesn’t just focus on the powerful demigods- he makes sure to lend his power anywhere it’s needed

Fighting is not the the Edgedancers’ main concern, preferring to protect/help the injured (especially people who aren’t necessarily warriors) and Will also is more like a wartime medic than a fighter (though he- and the Edgedancers- can fight if necessary)

They want to see and understand both sides of something, even their enemies, rather than seeing everything in black and white. Will struggled with this in TSATS but eventually realized that places like the Underworld aren’t necessarily just about death/decay, but are also about life

🌩️ Jason Grace : Windrunner

Well first of all the man flies and that’s basically what the Windrunners do lol

Their powers: Adhesion (temporarily sticking two objects together) and Gravitation (changing the direction/ strength of something’s gravitational pull)

He cares a lot about protecting innocents/ the defenseless and keeping his friends safe which is a main idea of the Windrunners

Windrunners are very militaristic in general and Jason was raised by the wolves and the Romans to be that way as well

Tempest would be his windspren & prefer a horse form cus they can do that (I think)

⚡️ Thalia Grace : Windrunner

I know she hates flying but I don’t think it’s really a requirement of the Windrunners to ‘fly’; they mostly just change the direction/amount of gravity that’s pulling on them so she could find creative ways to use Gravitation (walking on walls/ceilings which then appear to be the floor to her, etc)

The Hunters of Artemis are pretty militaristic as well (they have a specific leader & ways of doing things, similar to the Romans)

Thalia cares about innocent people/creatures and is very protective over the people she cares about (Annabeth, the Hunters, etc)

Windrunners tend to attract “big-sibling types” and Thalia is definitely a big sibling type lol

🏹 Frank Zhang : Stoneward

Powers don’t rly fit him either but personality-wise I think it’s right

Frank is really loyal to his friends (sometimes to the point of attacking/fighting people more powerful than him to save them) and will always be there for them both in battle and for personal issues

He’s pretty good at improvising and his shapeshifting allows him to come up with creative solutions (turning into an iguana to get out of the Chinese handcuffs lol)

He’s also pretty quick to come up with creative solutions without many resources (using his firewood to free Thanatos when there was no other heat source, etc.)

💎 Hazel Levesque : Lightweaver

Powers : Illumination (illusions) and Transformation

Hazel learned how to manipulate the mist from Hecate, essentially giving her illusion powers, & she can change the shape of earthly materials (can’t change the material but it’s close enough to Transformation); this is one case where I almost made her a Stoneward but Lightweaver just fit better for everything else I think

Lightweavers are the ‘artistic’ order and attract people who love art/ creativity (Hazel is an artist)

They tend to not follow rules the way other orders do, instead choosing to reach their goals by their own means (ex. Hazel choosing to go her own way and make her own choices rather than taking one of the paths Hecate gave her in HoH)

🔥 Leo Valdez : Dustbringer

Same as Nico; both of them being Dustbringers would be an example of contrasting/ clashing personalities within the order

Fire is definitely a destructive ability similar to Division (they can burn things) and without a level of control (which Dustbringers need to learn before they can advance their powers) things could get bad (and have- rip Esperanza Valdez)

Leo hasn’t really been ostracized for his personality like Dustbringers could be but his powers originally made people scared (they didn’t know he had them at the time but his cabinmates did say a that having that power was dangerous and they hoped no one would ever have it again so he took that a little personally)

🗡️ Reyna Ramirez-Arellano : Bondsmith

She’d be bonded to the Stormfather (1 of 3 beings who can gift Bondsmith abilities), allowing her to generate Stormlight and infuse other Radiants with it; this is incredibly draining and similar to Reyna’s ability to share her strength

Bondsmiths’ main focus is unity/ bringing people together and Reyna definitely spends a lot of time attempting to unite the Roman and Greek camp (after all, she did spend an entire book helping Nico and Coach Hedge get the Athena Parthenos back to CHB as a peace offering)

Bondsmith powers aren’t typically used for fighting but rather for assisting other Radiants and keep them fighting; Reyna is skilled with weapons but doesn’t use her powers to fight, only to help others keep up their strength/ motivation

🕊️ Piper McLean : Lightweaver

Piper had some personal things that she had to work out (lying to her friends in TLH, etc) before she fully embraced her power, & Lightweavers have to come to terms with truths about themselves before they can progress as people & as Radiants

There aren’t really any Radiant orders that work with manipulation magic so it’s hard to bring the Charmspeak in but the illusion magic Lightweavers have does allow them to change their appearance, so I’d imagine her using it to make herself super beautiful for espionage purposes or smth (maybe using it to transform into someone’s loved one?)

Transformation would allowed her to turn something into something else (etc. mud to food) which kind of relates to her cornucopia & how it makes food out of nothing

——————————————————————————

Hooray we made it to the end!! Sorry that this was so long, I had a looong time to think about this and wanted to get all my thoughts down

I mostly used coppermind.net and the descriptions of the Radiant orders on Sanderson’s website so some of this info may be a little inaccurate but this was just for fun lol

[iluvzaddies]

yandere!childe alphabet

warnings: unhealthy relationship/behavior, violence, some nsfw

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

childe shows his affection through giving you mora or buying you gifts. he doesn’t care if you drain his wallet dry, as long as you return his feelings. that matters more than mora.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

the man is a psycho, who loves the thrill of battle, so expect a lot of blood shed. though, he finds it quite a hassle to clean up.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

oh, he will certainly mock you whenever you cry for help or attempt to escape. if you are being good, he will provide you with whatever you desire, but freedom isn’t an option.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

he is touchy and intimate. if you show signs of discomfort, he will be understanding, but his patience runs out quick. if you still don’t give in to his advances, he will force himself onto you.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

you are his weakness. you are his light in the dark, gloomy world. he can’t live without you, so he vows to protect you at all costs and tones it down with his punishments.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

he is amused with how much fight you have in you. he loves seeing your vulnerable side, but he also loves seeing that feisty side of you too.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

he enjoys watching you attempt to escape because it’s completely, utterly pointless. not in a million years will he allow that to happen.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

disobeying him will lead you to being on his bed, underneath him, screaming his name all night and day. sex isn’t just a form of punishment, it’s a daily routine. he loves sex as much as he loves battle.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

he is a family man and dreams of a domestic life with you. settling down, getting married, having a house of your own, having multiple children. he will do anything to make that dream a reality.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

he has an overinflated ego, so he doesn’t get jealous very easily. he knows other people cannot compete with him. he is the whole package. if he does get jealous, best believe the one who dares to pursue you and thinks they have a chance with you will be six feet under.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

he is albeit softer with you than with other people. with other people, he is cold and ruthless.

Love Letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

first, he builds your trust, so your guard is down. second, you become friends. third, he confesses his love for you. fourth, he reveals his identity. fifth, he uses his title against you, so you have no choice but to accept his confession.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

not really, he still acts like an a-hole, but it depends on your behavior.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

“what a naughty girl you are.”

the man is a freak. what do you think will happen to you? 👀

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

you are forever trapped with him, like a fly caught in a spider’s web. your friends and family will never see you again. ever.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

he is pretty patient, but like i said before, his patience runs out quick. that is something to look out for.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

if you die, then what is the point of living anymore? the world will go back to being dark and gloomy again, and he will go back to being lonely again. he might as well just join you.

if you somehow managed to escape, he will track you down the ends of the earth until you are back in his arms again.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

if he was past ajax, yes. but childe, no. being in the fatui for so many years has fucked him up, so he barely feels an ounce of guilt.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

he comes from a rich family. whatever he wants, he gets. that’s his motto.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

“aw, why are you crying?”

degradation, manipulation, reverse psychology.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

sometimes he is soft, sometimes he is sadistic.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

he doesn’t get fooled easily, just like how you can’t escape easily. he can see right through you, hun. he isn’t stupid.

Wit’s End: Would they ever hurt their darling?

just be good is all i can say.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

he will do anything for you. he will spoil you. you will never go wanting again. he will even kill for you. just say the word and he’ll do it.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

not long at all. he can’t wait for so long. he wants you– no, he needs you so badly.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

if you are stubborn, he will break you mentally and emotionally until you finally comply. maybe physically if you continue to be stubborn.

[fizziepopangel]

"Nice try, fuckhead."

Despite his gruff exterior, Husk is actually quite sentimental and before ending up at Hazbin Hotel, he didn’t have many people he cared for who actually cared for him. Unbeknownst to the others, he keeps every special little gift Charlie, Angel, and Nifty give him in a box he keeps hidden under his bed. He has group pictures that Charlie’s given him, and doodles Nifty’s done, and a hat decoration Angel got him for his birthday. He would die if the others found out about this, he has a reputation, ya know.

Constantly says “I’m too old for this shit” before engaging with anyone else in the hotel.

Angel Dust’s constant over sexual flirting tends to make him feel mocked since his insecurities and past experiences in both life and hell won’t let him believe anyone coils be attracted to anything about him.

Before he died, Husk was a street performer, often scamming people with his sleight of hand and magic, but sometimes playing saxophone or guitar on street corners for tips.

While he can play guitar and saxophone, he prefers the saxophone since it was the first instrument he ever learned.

He was allergic to cats when he was alive so he was pissed when he became a hell cat despite knowing he’s not allergic to himself.

Husk is the type of cat that will drop everything to chase a red dot. He has in fact spilled drinks because Angel aimed a laser pointer at the wall and Husk absolutely lost his shit chasing it. Angel now carries a laser pointer everywhere just to exploit this for his entertainment.

He lets Charlie pet him on the rare occasion that Vaggie can’t cheer her up when she’s upset because Charlie thinks it's adorable hearing the old bar cat purr.

Despite hating his cat-like appearance and tendencies, he doesn’t get angry about the laser pointer thing or the purring thing since it makes Angel and Charlie happy and although he’d never admit it, it makes him happy making them happy.

Husk will also never admit that he secretly loves when Charlie pets him because touch is his main love language and he doesn’t get it very often.

Because he enjoys touch and cuddling, he often pet sits for Angel and falls asleep cuddling Fat Nuggets. The small demon piglet loves falling asleep against the hell cat's soft fur.

Despite Nifty being pretty fucked up and Husk not wanting to know half of what he knows about her, he’s rather protective of her since she seems to be attracted to anything with a dick and a ‘bad boy’ attitude. He sees her as the annoying little sister he needs to look out for.

Husk was an overlord before meeting Alastor and tells Angel that he sold his soul to keep his power. Although Angel thinks it was an exaggeration for his benefit, Husk is actually quite powerful as a demon still, something Alastor didn’t take from him so he can use him as needed.

When Vaggie tries to reshoot the commercial for Charlie and asks Husk to lower the script from in front of his face, the reason he gets a little defensive is because his eyesight is rather poor when reading so he genuinely couldn’t see the words and she didn’t give him enough time to try to memorize anything he was supposed to say… Despite knowing he should, he refuses to wear his glasses outside of his own room though.

His drink of choice is usually whiskey neat, but every so often he enjoys fruity cocktails.

If asked, Husk would absolutely put on a magic show for the guests of the hotel. He’s always happy to show off his magic and sleight of hand when someone is interested in it.

Husk can fly but he claims it’s too much effort to keep himself in the air. In reality, its not the effort that bothers him, but rather the fact that his back and wings tend to get sore after long periods of flying so he tries to minimize his time doing it.

Although most cats dislike baths, Husk loves hot showers and baths. He takes them a lot to help with back aches, but it also results in his fur always being clean and soft due to his frequent shampooing and conditioning of it and he often has a very clean scent to him beneath the stench of alcohol.

Husk died after gambling away all his money and being unable to pay violent loan sharks back. After dodging them for months, his gambling addiction ended up resulting in his downfall when they were able to find him.

While he was alive he was married and though his own marriage never resulted in any children of his own, Husk was an amazing uncle to his brother’s children. The way he cared for his nieces and nephews resulted in Husk being a more patient and supportive demon with his fellow hotel employees since he considers them to be his new family.

He would absolutely try to kill anyone who told any of his fellow hotel residents that he considered them family because Charlie, Angel Dust, and Alastor would never let him live that down.

[eldritch-spouse]

GIMMIE THE ANGST IT FEELS TO WARM AND FUZZY AROUND HERE

 (I -I really like like your characters Pinnie)

When Adrul takes full control of Perdition that means most, if not all, of the Ring’s inhabitants respect and fear him. As his partner nobody would dare to harm us -we’re mostly safe, but not completely. 

There has to be some radical group somewhere that believes a half human demigod doesn’t deserve to rule. 

So what would happen if, on a day Adrul had some important business with his parents at the clergy, his beloved was attacked and succumbed to her wounds before Adrul could return? Despite all the protection placed around them and the highest medical care, they still died. Adrul wasn’t quick enough. He wasn’t prepared. He miscalculated. He wasn’t as in control as he thought he was -and that cost him his heart.

What are Belo, Admin, Miara, and Krulu’s thoughts about this?

What does Adelo think of him now that he’s finally failed at something?

How much of Krulu’s callous apathy did Adrul inherit?

[Hellow and thenk you!- I'll humor the scenario, but know that it is out of character, Adrul is far too cautious to leave you, supervised or not, in any part of Hell while he's in the surface.]

TW: Death; Gore; Torture; Suicidal ideation.

For as much as his Lord-Father wishes he take command of Hell, sometimes Adrul has to agree with his celestial father. Demons are the scum of this planet. They're the lowest of the low, the most disgusting lifeforms to ever enter the planes of existence. Made out of spite, made to spite-

Belo had always been right. Perdition doesn't need to be ruled over, it needs to be decimated. Torn asunder, rent to a crisp. And its verminous inhabitants should be hunted down to the very last curly-tailed imp...

But alas, orders are orders, and Adrul's fate had been spun long before his mother birthed him. So Hell still stands, mocking the universe.

Sometimes, now more than ever, Adrul feels that he's a clown. A fool made to lord himself over degenerates. It's a sinking feeling that curls in his gut like poison, and now, he has no means of escaping it.

See, demons, in their endlessly abundant mental stunting, fail to grasp that Adrul is not some half-human nitwit. He's less than a tenth human, if he had to guess... Father weaved his power into both his and Adelo's development during pregnancy, there is absolutely no way he would have allowed a half-lesser child. They both know this, and truthfully, are also grateful for such.

But again, demons are just brainless. They're hardly even people, in Adrul's eyes. So it's no wonder they can't put two and two together, it's no shock groups of overconfident scumfucks gather to plot against the King of Perdition on a daily basis.

Adrul simply... Underestimated them.

It's something harrowingly painful to admit.

Because it implies he's getting out of touch, he's lowering his guard too much, getting tired maybe. It means he's succumbing to something, that his thought process is deteriorating, that he's not as competent as his parents trained him to be, that he's a let-down, useless- He makes mistakes because he is a mistake, they're all extensions of him.

And his biggest mistake, was letting his heart die.

Carelessly tossing you to a brutal end, the details of which gruesome enough that Adrul can't bare to recall lest he fly into another soul-shattering meltdown. His most selfish action, marking the day he lost everything.

Adrul's reaction to your death was stone cold.

He's never been good with displaying emotion. Never been very facially expressive, strayed from hysteric tones, hardly laughed and hardly cried. Though, in that moment, he felt that he didn't react because he simply couldn't. Reacting would have killed him. It would have broken his mind beyond saving.

The servants didn't know what to do, rushing back and forth, too afraid to direct any words at him, everyone hovering around the scene of the crime, trying not to touch what's left of your body or the mess that spattered the rest of the area.

Adrul collected your butchered remains silently, slowly following the trail of blood leading to other divisions, indicating you had put up a valiant fight. The constant dripping off your torn body echoed through the walls, reminding him that it was over. That you were gone, that he would never get to hold you again, or hear your voice, feel your touch. He would never love again. He would never want again, he would never live again.

Hell burns. But Adrul is cold.

You were handed over to people he knew could never betray him, ordering them to fix your form as perfectly as they could- Because their lives depended on it. And while that happened, the prince crowned King went hunting for the animals that did this, the insects who couldn't even fathom the horrors they'd face.

It wasn't hard. Adrul knows how to manipulate crowds. Turn them against each other. All he had to do was identify the culprits, offer compensation, and allow the entirety of demonkind to turn against each other, a slaughter the likes of which not even Kalymir could dream of. The Icons themselves are involved in this search, which means whatever rebellious sect initiated this had less than days to get their shit kicked in.

Most of them were brought to him captured, alive. Others dragged in dead. Some stragglers who made it to the surface in hopes of escaping were severely wounded but there nonetheless. Adrul kept the leaders to himself.

And then, he loaded the rest into a transportation device, preparing to visit the surface, and bring the news to his family...

Adrul hadn't shed a tear yet.

Admin was devastated. She could not imagine a fate more disturbing for the human Adrul favored, for the one her, Belo and Krulu approved of. A lesser truly worthy of uniting with her son... She was the first to offer Adrul solace and comfort, and the first to see him react minimally, face twitching erratically, silent tears flowing down his face. She understood Adrul is just like his Father, that he doesn't show what he's really feeling most of the time, that she shouldn't expect him to bear his heart to her in this time- But she wouldn't be a good mom if she didn't make it very clear that Adrul needs to process things and mourn you properly. Easier said than done. She couldn't imagine the grief it would cause if either one of her partners died, if she died.

Adelo, for once, took something seriously. Adrul had spared him a venomous look upon first sight, as if expecting the angel hybrid to crack a tasteless joke, and it genuinely wounded him to know his brother thought that little of Adelo. He's always been bad with wording things, so the older brother merely offered his condolences and volunteered any sort of necessary help. He could tell Adrul was dead inside the moment he glanced upon his brother, having learned to read the monster quite well. It was hard to witness, and he figured he ought to keep his distance for a while.

Belo was equally stunned. That's always been the problem with lessers, hasn't it? They're endlessly fragile, they need constant surveillance, constant protection- A herculean task. Like Admin, he cried for his son, he joined in her comforting efforts, using his properties as a celestial to offer calm, and did his best to guide poor Adrul into calm mindsets. Belo knows what it's like to want to drown one's sorrow in work, productivity is oftentimes a coping mechanism, so he urged his son to work and help around as he visited, keeping him safe from his thoughts, gentle silence shared.

Krulu's gaze is hard. Adrul did fail, he said to his own son's face. That was failure, there's no escaping it. And before Adrul's soul could shatter deeper, the siadar proclaimed that Adrul didn't have the luxury of following you. Adrul is bigger than you and he serves a purpose that precedes your involvement in his life. You were a marvelous lesser, and he recognizes his son loved you more than anything- For his eyes blazed with the same intensity around you as his do towards Admin. Although it may have felt that way, Krulu reminds his inwardly grieving, breaking son that not all was lost. That he couldn't let himself fail further.

Miara deflated like a balloon at the news. She was looking forward to seeing you and him become a big, happy family. Adrul was hastily invited into her main lands, and after some bickering with both Krulu and Belo, Miara convinced the stubborn bulls that their son needed rest, distraction, care. Not pain, not being around people who remind him of his responsibilities. Adrul needed healing of the highest degree, he seemed to attract misery and those who covet it like moths to a flame. To see wraiths hover around his vicinity like vultures was infuriating and extremely disappointing. She had wisdom to impart on the demi-siadar, and more than enough nurture to spare, as well as guidance for Admin in how to care for her wounded son.

The rebellious demons who had been transported to the surface were handed to none other than his Lord-Father.

Adrul knew that, no matter how creative he got, Krulu would always be able to unleash torture the likes of which he can't even conceive of. Seeing the mind-shattering terror on the demons' faces as they got swept into the bowels of The Clergy's Eye, taken into the depths of it by his Father, it was something truly marvelous.

Krulu used these demons for just about everything, spending most of his free time delighting in their meticulous torture. For once, his chosen and his dove were invited to see the process, to aid in it. Not Adrul, Adrul was still too shattered to glimpse into those instances and Krulu knew that. Although, his son does get a couple of "finished pieces" sent back to his residence in Perdition, with a message from the higher suggesting that he should display them where all could see. Beautiful omens born out of pointless lives. Adrul did like them, enough to show them to the mangled leaders of the resistance.

They don't get to die, naturally.

After all, Adrul didn't get to die either. To this day, he's not afforded that luxury. He has to drag himself onwards with his many legs, pretending to feel any sort of drive for anything, pretending he doesn't just want to loiter around the garden the two of you made, now a burial ground of unimaginable beauty, and curl up next to your headstone for the rest of time.

Adrul was merciless and blind to morals when he hunted down the families of those leading demons. He forced them to stay by his side, bound and gagged and screaming, because they knew exactly what was going to happen when the King ordered his most loyal warriors to bludgeon and massacre and do anything they wanted to those innocent lives. Wives, parents, sons and daughters- Adrul smiled, grinned, it was the first time he laughed ever since you were taken from him.

The demi-siadar almost wished he was a wraith, just so he could savor the pain his prisoners felt as they froze, or erupted into hysterical babbling, screaming at the top of their lungs until their throats tore.

Adelo and Adrul are sons of Protector Saudramar, of Plaguemaster, of Lord-Master Krulu.

Sure, they may also be born of Admin and Belo, elements that keep them minimally grounded, bearable. Still, it would be foolish to assume they couldn't choose their Father's path when poked just right.

The King of Hell became something uncontrollably evil.

Adrul is now consumed by a rage not too distant from that of Krulu's. Having his most important element in life mauled to an untimely end, then forced to rule over the cretins that did it, forced to think in their best interests and keep them safe, keep the comfortable.

As if they fucking deserve the bare minimum consideration.

He can't take it.

He can't fucking take it anymore.

That's why Adrul seizes any opportunity he has to slaughter hundreds for the smallest of misdeeds. A trail of bodies follows Adrul wherever he ventures in his own domain, the streets cleared for him. If he could, he'd wipe out the entire population of all rings. Even if he knows it wouldn't fix him. It would be just.

It would be fair.

Sometimes, he comes back home showered in blood, letting droplets taint the flowers of your garden as he lays on the ground and speaks to you.

Begs you to take him with you.

To forgive him.

He failed you. He failed the person who was there for him through thick and thin, through his anxieties of wanting to live up to his role and getting caught up in tornados of endless conflict. He conquered Hell for you, in the end, because of you.

And now... It means nothing to him. Everything Adrul spent his youth training for, attaining, means absolutely fucking nothing to him.

He just wishes he could die, anything would be better than this joke of an existence.

And maybe, it's that desire to shed his husk and his life, that brings Dorem to Hell.

Granted, the ruler of Limbo isn't there for small talk or a pat on the back. No words are spoken between Adrul and the soulkeeper when Dorem produces an intricate container of what appears to be (but definitely isn't) glass. Inside it dances an extremely bright light, molding into all shapes and states as if agitated.

Then, once passed onto his dark hands, it calms immediately. The entity flattens against the glass, drawn to him, emitting a comforting warmth he could never mistake.

Dorem fades with the shadows.

It's you.

It's the essence of you.

Adrul sobs so hard he chokes on his own screams.