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diejager · 2 years ago

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Only Human

Pairing : Monster Task Force 141 x reader

Cw : canon-typical violence, bodies, death, blood, cannibalism?, wounds, trauma.

Wc : 3.2k

Note: the designs for the Monster 141 came from @bluegiragi

Only Human masterlist

When Laswell, a known figure in the Intel gathering ranks of the CIA and military, had called you for your new transfer, you were ecstatic about it. You showed up casually, still in your vest and whole attire from your deployment, you were told that Laswell was waiting for you in her office once you took your first step. You only had time to drop off your weapons in the armory before going straight to her office.

You were personally asked to join a Task Force, not another squad or team under a Captain, which you hadn't expected; an international Task Force to boot, it shocked you, even more, to have been asked to have you on a Task Force that spanned nations wide. The radar must've been wide for it to be an international one, important and specialized soldiers were probably the ones who were invited - green berets, if you guessed.

You were excited, though, to have the honour of joining specialized soldiers with only being a corporal.

"Which Task Force, ma'am?" you asked, back straight with your hands crossed behind your back.

"The 141, Hunter."

Your composure almost slipped, your mind buzzed with excitement and confusion at the notice. The 141 was a reputed group, having members from the United Kingdom to the Americas and allies in the south, around Urzikstan, and perhaps farther. They took down Major Hassan, killing the heart of Al-Qatala and weeding out traitors like General Sheperd and Graves' PMC, the Shadows. A closed group with secrets only they knew and would take to the grave, a tight-knit Task Force.

You've heard of some members, none being human. The Ghost - or Ghost - a wraith hybrid of some sort, as dangerous as he was respectable. He was the better known one, a popular topic from one's lips to the other, gossip and rumors about him being more monster than human. While some were harmless, others were made to be racists - or xenophobic in some rarer cases - most were gossip, exaggerated depictions of the man people feared and admired.

You were jumping under your skin for the day to pass faster, for your transfer to happen more quickly. You couldn't wait to meet your new teammates, you've heard good and bad things about them. Some were sociable, others shy or downright menacing to look and interact with (perhaps they specifically meant Ghost).

You've always wanted to work with monsters, the majority of the military was made up of human men and women with a low, low (around 5%) being monsters, creatures of the night that made them stronger, faster, and better than humans, but they were often hunted until the last decades.

You, however, expected that half of the Task Force was made up of humans, and the rest monsters. You were wrong, really wrong. The moment you stepped out, you realized how unfortunate - maybe fortunate to be stuck with broad, strong, and handsome men - you were to be the sole human. Perhaps it was the shock or the honour that made you freeze and shy away, but neither of them could make you feel as prepared as you should be for officially joining them.

"Welcome to the Task Force, Hunter!" Price yelled over the beating blades of the helicopter, blue eyes staring at you with a - sinful, you found it sinfully handsome - smile hidden under his beard. He also had a green tail that followed behind him, a long, strong tail, you mustn't forget that.

The first ones you talked to were Soap and Rudolfo, two jokesters within the group. Soap was cute, having almost a puppy-like excitement at meeting you with the way he greeted you, smiling and laughing boisterously. He was loud and warm when you first talked to him.

Rodolfo, or Rudy as he told you to call him (you stuck with Rodolfo, feeling too intrusive to call him by his lovely nickname), was Mexican, a special forces, just like everyone else in the TF. He was as warm as the Mexican sun, funny, and soft-spoken.

They had an accent, one a light Mexican and the other a deep Scottish slur in his words. Rudolfo incorporated Spanish words in his sentences, easily understood but adorable nonetheless. Soap's Scottish accent was thicker, deep with his jargon that you sometimes questioned if he was even speaking English.

You only found out that they were monsters when they were training outside. You watched Soap turn from under the shades, eyes keen on his rippling muscles and cracking bones. His jaw shifted, it grew longer and his ears pointed up, light brown fur sprouted from his skin and his mohawk traveled farther, turning into a mane. You could hear the whines and grunts from his transformation.

A werewolf, you learned. He had enhanced strength. He became more durable and agile. He had accelerated healing, almost ten times the speed of regular men, and his senses seemed to have heightened significantly. It looked painful, you concluded so from the bodily sounds and his moans. The heat he exhumed was searing hot, it turned the air around him into mist, burning the water in the air and turning it into gas.

Soap had heard you gasp and awe at his form, broader and taller, he towered over you when he stood on his hind legs. His eyes glowed a vibrant blue when they met yours, waiting and gauging your reaction, but he could only see awe and admiration, perhaps a dash of excitement beneath your gaping expression.

He padded towards you, lurching forward and sending you tumbling on your back as his tongue lolled to the side and hung from his panting maw. His shoulders shook, abdomen flexing rapidly, it looked like he was laughing. At your reaction, or you, you didn't know, all you had in kind wa the urge to touch him. He looked so soft.

It was ironic in some sense, for the man - now creature - who feared dogs to be a werewolf, a larger, more dangerous, and fantastical counterpart to the domesticated dog.

"Can I pet you?" the words fell from your lips before you knew it, your face flushed and your body seized in embarrassment.

Soap huffed and pushed his snout to your shoulder, lowering his head in approval. He would let you pet him, and you took it without complaint. His fur and mane were soft, maybe the softest you've ever touched (you grew up hunting with your father, you knew for as well as any other hunter). It was soft and silky, he had taken great care in his grooming.

He let out a satisfied rumble when he saw you smile, a childish wonder in your eyes. You were so captivated by Soap's looming form over you that you almost forgot about Rudolfo - keyword: almost. Something wet had nudged your elbow, you turned and saw a smaller dog, ghostly pale with glimmering, blue gems for eyes. It looked like a mix of a lab and a shepherd, the combination making this white dog adorable.

Your eyes observed the whole length of it, from its head to its tail, a long whisp-like swirl that turns blur at the end. It connected the dog to Rodolfo. You didn't know what the dog was. Was it a spirit? Or was it a familiar?

"Cadejos, Hunter," Rudolfo answered your silent question, smirking at your petting the spirit with one hand while the other scratched behind Soap's twitching ear. "Dog spirits. I'm their vessel."

That meant he was more human than Soap was, perhaps almost as you. You still gave him an awed look, amazed by the possibility of becoming a vessel for mythological beings and spirits.

You only truly found out whether or not Ghost was human or a monster on a mission. You were sent along with a team led by your Lieutenant to capture a standing AQ cell, one of the few that still stood without their leader.

You were, along with other sergeants, corporals, and privates, separated into two teams, Alpha and Bravo, one led by a sergeant and the other by Ghost. He had you follow him close, a way to watch how you did on the field. You made quick work of them, they were weak, disorganized, and fought with each other when they had no one to lead them. A pity for what used to be a big problem.

You were left on your own, Ghost having gone north to search for something. You had taken down the surviving men, pouncing on them in the dark. When you were done, you wiped your blade on your forearm, cleaning it from the iron stench of blood.

"Could've left one alive, Hunter," Ghost's deep growl made you jump, twisting to meet his dark eyes. They seemed endlessly black, like a void of darkness. "I'm bloody hungry..."

He crept closer, steps slow and purposeful, as if trying to spook you. He stopped before a fresh body, one you muffled and stabbed. The body was still warm, blood pooling from the wound and eyes glossed over with death.

"Hungry, sir?" you asked, unsure of what he meant or if he had muttered it to himself.

He hadn't replied, head turning to examine the rest of the corpses, strewn around you like a gift. A growl rumbled in his chest, mist rolling off his body like a crashing wave. It filled the area around you and tickled your feet in its cold, dark embrace. You watched the fog cover the laying corpses, dissolving and swallowing them into its murkiness.

When he meant by hungry, he actually meant eating humans, you shouldn't have been surprised, a was a wraith hybrid. Spirits of the dead that hate and haunted the living. It made more sense when he told you to let one alive, wraiths preferred living souls, dead ones were still filling but tasted lesser.

"Clean kills, " he finally spoke, his voice a timber lower than it was before his dinner. "Good job, corporal."

You nodded at him, stomach fluttering with his compliment, a praise from such a man - monster - was a prize, something he rarely gave to other soldiers. You smiled under your gaiter, you wore it for better protection in the sandy deserts of Al Mazrah.

"I'll remember leaving some alive next time, L.T."

He craned his head to look at you before he left, eyes squinted in what seemed like a smirk - devilish, you hoped - and gave you a firm nod. You scrambled to follow him, watching his broad, dark back as you walked a few steps behind him. He hadn't spoken a word to you since you got to exfil, but once you landed at the base, he motioned for you to follow him with the jerk of his wrist.

Ghost wasn't so bad if you got past the glaring image of danger he portrayed and the growls he gave. You couldn't wait to work with him again or with the others.

Gaz was a harpy, a very interesting and useful monster to have on your team. He was nice, not as chatty as Soap was, but he talked to you and smiled your way. His caramel-dipped smiles were to die for. He was easy to talk to, by far easier than your lieutenant had been at the start.

You saw him a lot in the rec room, sipping on tea or scrolling through pages on his phone. He was comfortable with you as you were with him, he let his talons out, lounging with his wings across the couch or over your lap as you cleaned them for him. The ever-so-teasing gentleman had a way with his words and his wits, often leaving you flustered or annoyed at his jabs.

Being a harpy meant he was light, bones hollow yet sturdy enough for a human body fitting his strong and slimmer frame. He could fly, and he became much more agile, more so than Soap's werewolf form (birds were naturally more graceful than canines) and he had a telescopic vision, razor-sharp and precise, more than any humans or monsters could have, it rivaled the falcon's keen sight.

If he was so light, agile, and all-seeing, without forgetting he could fly, how did he manage to fall from a helicopter not once, but twice? That question bothered you often, lingering at the back of your mind like a ghost (more so than the wraith himself that kept appearing at random and old moments behind you).

"You can fly, right?" you stared at his face, blank of any expression after finally mustering the courage to ask him.

"These wings aren't just for show, " Gaz hummed, leaning back into the chair that he brought out to watch Soap and Ghost spar. You would have your turn with the wraith after their matches.

"Then how do you manage to fall from a heli twice?" you shot, brows scrunched in a frown, confused.

His wings jerked, black feathers twitching at the reminder - an embarrassing one - of falling out, smiling sheepishly. He simply shrugged, every limb stretching, his wings lengthening to his whole span and toed talons stretching and curling. You were struck by its sharpness, his long nails and claws could cut a man in half, or completely sever a limb off.

You guess you'll never have an answer to your question, he could keep his pride and you could keep your question to yourselves. You wouldn't mind doing so, he let you preen his wings, you could touch those soft feathers and pluck dead or broken ones from his perfect plumage.

Alejandro Vargas, an unmarried and very eligible bachelor with a smooth tongue and a growl of a Mexican accent. He seemed almost too real to be true when he smiled charmingly your way, his perfect, white teeth glimmering under the yellow bulbs and his shiny, sweat-coated skin glowing golden after a mission.

Alejandro's a chivalrous person - and they said chivalry was dead - he's caring and protective. The Los Vaqueros, cowboys, were his team in Las Almas, a family that grew with every new batch of recruits and men and women devoted to the small village they grew up in. Mexicans were a tight-knit community from what you've seen in Alejandro's and Rudolfo's stories.

He was good, handsome, and strong, maybe too perfect to be human, and human, he wasn't. He's a shifter, like Soap, a full-bodied shifter from human to monster. Not unlike his human side, his Nagual side was mighty and honorable, a greater man and an even greater Nagual.

Although solitary by nature, Alejandro was a sociable character, the life of the party if he could, but he was also a responsible man. He was tall, but taller when shifted, claws sharp and a tail helped him balanced.

Once, you'd seen him shift, yellow and brown-dotted fur sprouting from his skin. His lower jaw had protruding canines, standing proudly over the ridge of his nose. He looked like a jaguar hybrid, wearing his golden fur like a crown

His other one, a panther, a jaguar born with more melanin than the usual one, was just as majestic. His fur was a darkened grey with black spots dotting his back and tail. He tended to use this form in darker places, or at night, hitting for efficiency and silence.

Captain Price, you knew he was a monster since your arrival, his long, green tail dragging behind him. You never bothered asking whether he was a lizard or a dragon, you only knew that his scaly tail was reptile-like in origin.

His smoking habit, girthy cigars burning and smoking at the edge, his chapped lips wrapped around the base of it as dark smoke leaked from the sides of his lips, curling in the air and around his beard.

Sometimes, there would be smoke without his cigar being lighted, a dry and unlit stick that still smoked. Charred gas, too dark to simply be cigar smoke. It came from him, inside, you concluded. Dragons could breathe fire and smoke, create it from within and push it out. Stirring around the mass of heat could feel overwhelming, warm, and uncomfortable without a release.

"Why cigars?" Price coccked his head, bro lifted at your question. "Helps me curb the need to burn." He breathed out another cloud, watching it swirl around his golden eyes. He explained it well and simply. Though he also liked the taste of it, an authentic, earthy texture.

Other than the occasional scales here and there that popped out, you've never seen his shift. Did he turn and grow like Soap and Alejandro? Did he change like Ghost and Gaz? Or did he have a dragon spirit? You were, albeit worried about prying, curious about your Captain's change.

Your chance appeared when he called you to his office, wanting your help with something related to his wing- wings? You weren't expecting much, maybe seeing a glimpse of the tip of his wings or the sharp edge of his horns.

He was leaning against his desk when you knocked on his door, letting you in with a sharp grunt. He was hunched over his desk, his wing, green and wide, stretched out. His bucket hat laying on his table, letting his horns grow out and curve upwards, both green and shiny. His tail was violently and anxiously swishing back and forth, hands and arms overturned with scales. His fingers turned green and callused, his nails became sharp claws and tinted green.

"You've got softer hands than any of those blokes, Hunter," Price said, his reason for calling you was for your talented hands, skilled at massages and with the knife. "Lost it in a crash, 's fine."

Although for a reason, you still got to see every part of him, hear the story behind his missing wing, and share a few pleasantries. He groans and grunts during your sessions, but the muscles on his back were less tense and strained.

Price wasn't one to brag about himself, tell his exploits to others, but yours, he did, how skilled your hands were at loosening the knots on his back and shoulders, turning them putty under your palms. Soap had come rushing, following your scent until he found you, for a massage like the one Price got.

You sighed, this wasn't what you signed up for, the sudden rush of adrenaline or scares they would cause, popping or jumping out of nowhere when you had your back turned. Some - Soap, Rudy, and Gaz - were mischievously childish, loving pranks as much as they did them. You'd get white hair before you hit your late 20s.

Fortunately, the three others were far more mature, one charming, one broody, and one proud. You don't regret joining, even with being the weakest and only human in the Task Force, the 141 was your family, a dysfunctional one with an occupational hazard, but still a little family.

After all, big, broad men working by your side on a daily had its perks, and brought a big, horny problem.

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bloodywankers · 2 years ago

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Trigger Warning! Yandere! Implied Non-Con! Forced Marriage! Forced Cultural Assimilation! Power Imbalance! Royalty AU!

Yandere Blue Lock | Yandere Michael Kaiser | 5.4k words | unedited

Michael Kaiser was arrogant, and surpassed all reason with his gall. As if it had not been your people who had fed and clothed his own when their ship sank near the coast of your island.

Provided them with shelter and welcomed them with open arms when they had nowhere to go in the vast ocean.

Whether it was gold or medicine, you wasted no expense to extend your generous hand towards them, ensuring your guests stayed comfortably while within the confines of your island.

Their culture was strange to you who had grown up in a matriarchy, surrounded by warriors and women admirable in both strength and intelligence. In fact, it was the opposite of your own. Men were the ones who held most of the power in their country, no wonder they looked so flabbergasted when there were no other men on the island beside themselves, surrounded by well built women tanned under the scorching sun, beyond anything they were used to as they had said many times.

They weren’t as bad as many stories told, they shared whatever was spared from the ocean on their ship, blankets, food that you had never come across and strange trinkets you still couldn’t fully understand.

Kaiser was strange even when you first met him, commanding those around him so naturally unlike you who was egalitarian in the making. Treating everyone with equal consideration and respect. Conceit lining his every action, as if he looked down on all those that surrounded him.

Had it not been for them not having anywhere else to go, you wouldn’t have let them near your people, especially not when it was evident he looked down on you.

“Your ‘country’ is run solely by women?” He seemed almost indignant when presented with this information. Despite this, you still bid them farewell with a smile on your face and nothing but prayers of good fortune for the journey that lies ahead of them.

So imagine your surprise when you receive a letter, a threat, the familiar arrogance dripping from each sentence written in the paper. ‘Surrender or else.’ That was basically what he was saying, that bastard. Acting as if your people hadn’t done all they did for his own.

But yours was a country of warriors, you’d fight them even if it cost your lives.

Or so you had thought, but the enemy never came. Instead, your numbers fell from within, one after another, all those around you fell ill, weakened until they could barely stand. You had barely managed to contain the infection when he came, that coward.

“You don’t seem to be doing very well.” He taunted, grinning from ear to ear as he looked down on you.

“A country run by women… isolated from the world. I was wondering for how long that’d work out for you.” He said as he walked circling around you, as a hyena would to its prey. He spared a few glances towards your surroundings, examining the sickly state many, including you were in. A rather cruel idea came to mind as he looked into your eyes, that defiance, sheer hatred that lined them, he wondered if he could crush it, like taming a wild animal in a sense.

“You’ll all die at this rate, why not come with me? The old geezer’s been pestering me lately to get married and I think you'd do nicely [name]. What do you say?” Even as he suggested something as serious as marriage, he had a certain playfulness in his tone, as if he was just mocking you, waiting for you to say yes just to laugh in your face.

“Even at a time like this you seem to spare no opportunity to mock us.” You spat back at him, not having braced yourself for the bruising hold on your jaw he now had.

“I’m sorry, I think I should rephrase that, I made it sound like I almost gave you a choice.” And with that, he released your aching jaw and walked out, you could overhear him ordering one of the men that came with him and while you didn't understand their language, you could assume it had something to do with you.

….

While most of the girls were against it, they understood you had no choice unless they were willing to face off against those strange men in their current condition. So it was decided, in exchange for treatment and protection from other invaders with similar intentions to Kaiser’s, you’d go with him. It felt dehumanising, to be traded like livestock but you didn’t want to think of what would happen had you opposed the idea as vehemently as you planned to.

Instead you focused on what to do once you reached his home country, it was a long journey, turns out that his men had settled on the just a few days on boat away from your island. His true home country, the one you learnt he would rule over was much further, a climate noticeably colder and duller than what you were used to.

“I expect you to be on your best behaviour once we get there, we wouldn’t want them to think you’re an uneducated savage, would we?” You despised how he spoke to you, slower, in a simpler way and overwhelmingly patronising, as one would to a child.

“I’m aware.” You replied.

He made you learn his country's language during the journey, so while he read government papers and complex books, he forced you to read children’s books out loud. Laughing at how you’d pronounce certain words, chuckle as you tried your best to differentiate between one sound and another and ensure you were thoroughly embarrassed before explaining anything you didn't understand.

He let you wear your own clothes at least, but even this, he assured, was only until you reached land, until he could have a tailor skilled enough to make something befitting of his future wife.

You couldn’t help but curse him under your breath every single day, pray he’d come down with sickness or fall overboard, pray he’d die, a slow painful death. But even this had to be done in secrecy, not because of how ill you wished him but because he forbade anything that held any semblance to your culture.

It was foolish to think he’d lose interest once you returned to his homeland, surrounded by enough women and shiny things to forget about you, men were fickle, or so the older women always told you. But not Kaiser to your dismay, instead he seemed even more invested in finding ways to make your life more difficult, from dance instructors to history and politics. Each day felt daunting as you missed your small island home, wanting for nothing more than to return to your home and your true family.

With what little you spoke of their language you could tell you weren’t the most welcome of guests, the maids’ glances towards you weren’t exactly overflowing in kindness and the older men that visited Kaiser seemed equally troubled by your presence.

“Who would dare say anything to my kaiserin.” There it was, the new nickname he had picked for you among a myriad of others, some more insulting than others. Not that Kaiser cared, he seemed to pay no mind to what you thought. Instead he seemed to be much more focused on your untouched plate.

“You’re not eating. I can’t have you looking like a corpse at our wedding, darling.” You just continued to stare down at your plate, its contents didn’t seem fit to be called food to you, not with how tasteless they were, even prisoners ate better in your homeland. You furrowed your brows as you took a bite, trying to chew as little as possible as to not taste any of it.

“I’m sure you’ve been taught better table manners than that, dear.” You didn’t like the way he looked at you, it’s as if he was looking at something lesser than him, lesser than human in his eyes.

“The food…I don’t like how it tastes.” You muttered under your breath in what little German you spoke.

“I suppose it’ll take time to develop an appreciation for high class food, I understand, especially after you’ve been eating garbage most of your life. No wonder you were so weak back then.” He never seemed to miss a chance to insult your culture. You were sure whatever garbage you had eaten before was much more filling than these scraps.

…

You had always enjoyed running around freely in the past, taking in the beauty of nature, but here, it would be rare to find any nature at all among the concrete jungle. And whatever little greenery there was was hidden by the accursed weather. Dull and gloomy, much like the country itself.

And god forbid your handmaidens let you out without hiding you among layers over layers of fabric, weighing you down just enough to make sure you would tire yourself out to not suggest going out for another few days.

But even that seems like a privilege to you now as you look out the large window in your room. He had come to visit earlier, drunk— clearly as seen from the pink in his cheeks and the unmistakable stench of alcohol coming from him.

“You’ll look so nice in a wedding dress, my precious kaiserin. I can’t wait to see you in white.” He said as he got closer than you’d have allowed, draping his arms around you as he sunk into the crook of your neck. You couldn’t help but scrunch your nose as he took in your scent. For an emperor as great as he claimed he was, he seemed to act a bit too depraved.

That’s when he went for it, tried to remove your dress. Your heartbeat racing as a mix of anxiety and dread overflowed from your thoughts as they clouded your judgement. In the midst of the moment, you shoved him away, ending in him being pushed onto your bed while you were now on the floor.

“What…?” He seemed angry, really, really angry. You didn't want to know what he would do so you just spewed whatever came to mind in hopes of something convincing enough to at least reduce whatever punishment he would give you now.

“The… The wedding! You have to wait. We should only do this after marriage. That’s what the priest said, we cannot do this unless we’re husband and wife!” You exclaimed as Kaiser simply looked at you, now having regained his composure.

You hoped this would buy you some time, at least enough to think of a way out without endangering the lives of your people. Your wedding was still a few months away, this would be enough time to do whatever was necessary.

Or so you had thought.

“Your highness, we cannot allow you to go out like this! Please understand, we’re under strict orders from the emperor. You must focus on your bridal studies. The tailor will also be coming today with the finalised dress.” The maid said, or rather pleased, she didn’t look any more pleased with the current arrangements as you were. That bastard, he moved your wedding from a few months to just weeks away after that. No wonder he had been so quiet lately. Everyone had begged that he rethink it but he paid them no mind, simply ordering that they prepare everything by the end of the month, sending everyone inside and outside the palace into a frenzy.

He didn’t forget to reprimand you for pushing him away either, forbidding anyone from allowing you outside the walls unless he himself allows it himself. Leaving you confined to your room most of the time, preparing for your wedding. Your stomach dropped at the mere thought of it.

…

Despite what he made you think, Kaiser was just as busy with wedding preparations as you were. Only the most grand event would be worthy of him and his precious wife. You used to be so aggressive when you first came, refusing to speak the language, firing insults at him every time he spoke. He found it adorable how you stuttered this time around. He did have to punish you for pushing him away, that was unacceptable, but the way you tried to reason with him, that desperate look in your eyes made him want to devour you right then and there.

It was rewarding to see the fruit of his labour.

It brought a smile to his face just to think about you.

“Have you heard? Apparently the empress is so beautiful that the emperor keeps her in a separate palace, he doesn’t allow any male servants near her so they aren’t seduced by your beauty.” A younger man, probably the son of a noble, seeing as how ignorant he was, said. The other men around him simply added more fuel to the fire as they continued to gossip amongst themselves.

The male couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle. Would they have said the same thing had they seen you as you were back in your little island? Ragged and sickly, so ready to jump anyone that came too close to you as a string of curse words left your mouth. So unladylike, he was sure they wouldn’t.

None of them would have seen your potential like you did, he was the one who polished you into the gem that you were today so it’s only right he’s the only one to enjoy the benefits of it.

He’ll have to make sure you don’t have to interact with these scum too much during the wedding, Kaiser thought as he held himself back from ripping their tongues out right then and there, there were better, quieter ways to deal with people like that. No point in causing a commotion, especially when your wedding was so close, when you would finally have to resign yourself to your fate, sealed in his hands and his alone.

“Your highness please keep your arms up so that the tailor can fit the dress.” One of the maids said as a few others rustled around you, trying to fit the dress on you, ensure that it was safely fastened so as to avoid any accidents during your actual wedding.

“I hope you don't mind me intruding on your fitting session, my precious kaiserin.” Kaiser said as he invited himself in, his eyes set on you and the dress that just made you all the more alluring. Jewels that were worn by women of his family for centuries before this splayed all around the room as the maids tried to agree on the most fitting one and a dress made by the most prestigious tailor in the continent, all to represent his country, the mother of his nation.

…

The servants had all long gone now, leaving you alone with Kaiser. They giggled amongst themselves as they left, you had heard many talk about the lovely relationship between you two, oh how you wished to deny it all.

“You didn’t have to come.” You said, still insistent on avoiding eye contact with Kaiser.

“I can’t help but notice darling, you never seem to say my name. We’re to be wed soon, wouldn’t it be better for you to refer to your husband-to-be by his name?” You couldn’t understand why he seemed so intent in closing the distance between you two, as if to keep you from running off— not that there were any places where you could seek shelter from him and his overbearing presence.

Discomfort was evident in you as you tried to pry him away. It’d be hard to believe that you were the same person capable of taking out his men with relative ease. Kaiser, however, paid it no mind, instead leaning in closer as he took a hold of your chin, barely any distance left between you two, your breath hitching as you tried your best to divert the topic on to anything else.

“Come now, how hard can it be to say Michael, you’ve pronounced harder words darling, this should be easy for you.” He said leaning in even more. His lips practically on yours at this point, your efforts to pull away being left in vain as you hit the back of the sofa you were on.

“Michael, I said it, now please stop this!” You pleaded, but it would be difficult to reason with him now. Something about the way you said his name just felt so attractive to him. Maybe it was your accent, despite your best attempts, it was still hard to conceal it.

“Say it again.”

“W..what?” He looked like he was in a trance, no sign of his usual shit eating grin, a blank expression on his face as he stared back into your eyes, waiting for the words to leave your mouth.

“Michael.” You knitted your brows as your cheeks went red from embarrassment. It felt strange, demeaning almost. As if he were watching a child say its first words.

“Again.” Was he serious? You thought to yourself.

…

Hate Kaiser as you will, at the moment, he was the only one that could allow you to go out so in some messed up way, you had started to look forward to his visits. And with only a few days until your wedding, you couldn’t help but grow anxious so as insufferable as he was, at least you could enjoy a breath of fresh air, away from the stuffy palace in his presence.

You couldn’t help but take in the scenery, the same that seemed so lacking compared to your homeland just a few months ago

“That dress you wore earlier today suits you well, darling.” He said, eyes still focused on the freshly bloomed flowers.

“I’m sure it did, seeing how they had to practically starve me so that I could fit in it.” Your German had improved a lot lately, you could even use complex sentences now, not as insistent on using your mother tongue as you used to be, it brought him pride every time he heard you speak it.

“Stuffing your face like an uncivilised beast would be unbecoming of a lady of your standing regardless of whether there is a dress to fit into or not, my dear.“ Some part of you was convinced he did this so you wouldn’t have the energy to escape.

“I wasn’t aware basic human needs had become uncivilised in your glorious empire.”

“You’ve been behaving well lately, it’s in your best interest to keep that up, darling.” It had been ages since you last acted up, Kaiser had thought he had crushed your rebellious spirit by now. He could forgive this, maybe it was just you getting antsy because of your wedding.

…

You’d received many congratulatory gifts before your wedding, most from people you had never before met. Foreign emissaries, nobles and others, all filled with congratulations and well wishes but you spared them no attention, instead focusing on the letter sent to you by your friends and family back home, your real home. During the time it took for the letter to get to you it was already quite dated but you still read it over and over again, written in your home tongue and filled with words of encouragement. Details you feared you had forgotten, people who you couldn’t picture in your head anymore but longed for each passing day. Kaiser didn’t allow letters most of the time, especially not when they were written in your home tongue, a reminder of your unruly past as he saw it.

This one was a wedding gift, a final goodbye to your friends and family before you became someone even you couldn’t recognize.

You read it over and over again. Tears formed in your eyes as you realised just how much you had forgotten, turning into a sobbing mess before you even realised.

“Had I known this is how you’d act, I'd have thought twice before giving you that letter.” There he was again, so eager to interrupt any thoughts of your home.

“I- I’m sorry.” You managed to say between sobs, trying to compose yourself before he said anything else, carefully tucking the letter away into your study drawer.

“May I write back to them?” You asked, practically pleaded considering the pathetic state you were in.

“We’ve talked about this before, dear. You know I dislike repeating myself.”

“Only once please—! I won’t ask again, Michael please just this once—!”

He seemed displeased with your request but instead of saying anything, he merely got up and approached your desk. However, to your surprise, he simply walked past you, instead kneeling in front of your drawers, taking the letter out and before you could react, he ripped it to shreds, right in front of you. Not even sparing the remains, opting to throw them into the lit fireplace, making sure they were burnt to a crisp before facing you again.

He took out a piece of paper from his pocket, leaving it on the desk.

“W-what’s this?” It was hard to talk to him after what he had just done, you wanted nothing more than to curse him.

“A list of names I’ve narrowed down, choose the one you like most by tonight, otherwise I’ll choose the one I like most.” He said nonchalantly.

“Names…? Why would you need me to choose a name?”

He merely looked at you disdained.

“You’ve not been baptised yet, I can’t be marrying a heretic, dear.”

“Is it really necessary to change my name though?”

He slammed his hand on your desk.

“You were behaving so well up until yesterday, so you seemed to have forgotten under whose jurisdiction that beloved island of yours is, my dear.” And with that, he stole a small kiss from your lips and left.

None of the names on the list felt pleasant to your tongue, they all sounded so foreign so Kaiser ended up choosing for you, he seemed happy to do so anyway. Things moved fast from there, in under a week so much had happened. Everyone around you seemed so overjoyed, everyone except you who was intent on ignoring your reality. Repeating over and over again the words you had read in that letter as a desperate attempt to remember your homeland. With even your name now replaced, nothing besides fickle memories was left but even those seemed to fade so fast.

…

Time moved fast when you were trying to hold on to it, hours turned into mere seconds. It became hard to grasp something so intangible as you walked down an aisle surrounded by strangers, in a building equally as unfamiliar.

Ironically, the only thing that wasn’t foreign was Kaiser, the man that had dragged you out so far across the map in the first place.

As the priest had you decide words you couldn’t fully comprehend and as hundreds of eyes peered onto you, you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. Seeking what little comfort there was in them.

“All hail his highness the kaiser and kaiserin. May god bless their reign!” The man exclaimed as a string of cheers echoed through the large chapel, flower petals gently falling as the light from the stained glass windows of all colours seeped through.

Your breath hitching all of a sudden as you felt Kaiser’s hand on your waist.

“Nothing will save you today my darling bride.” He whispered into your ear with his usual devilish grin, his eyes still facing the guests.

You dreaded what was to come, his mere presence brought shivers to your spine. How were you supposed to spend the rest of your life with a man like that?

In the large ballroom, one after another, the guests greeted you, paying respects, asking if you remember them and their wedding gifs, each trying to outdo the last. But even in all the commotion, with the music drowning the room in even more noise, even then, your mind could only dread what awaited you once the music stopped and you were guided away.

…

You could feel it, his heartbeat. The constant thumping, mechanical like a clockwork in a sense. It wasn’t as erratic as yours, fast paced yes but you were sure the wine he downed earlier had something to do with that.

Reflexively moving away as he tried to inch closer, only to be met with a bruising grip, one fully intent on keeping you in place.

“Not today, my kaiserin, no. Today, I’ll enjoy all you have to offer and so will you. All you have to do is be good.” He said, barely audible as he looked at you with something between drunken stupor and sheer lust. Burying his head in the crook of your neck, taking a moment to breathe in your scent before his teeth sink in, you let out a hiss, trying your best to push him away or to at least have him stop but to no avail.

He took your home, your name—identity and that night, he took your body as well, leaving you with nothing at all.

He took all you had to offer and in turn left you with child, his child.

You only found out months later, as the sickness seemed to become too much to excuse as just a cold or upset stomach. As your dresses became increasingly difficult to fit into. And as if to add insult to injury, the physician thought it to be more important to inform Kaiser before he did you.

As if it wasn’t you who would carry this child for months to come.

“You’re the mother of my empire and now of my child as well, my kaiserin. You’ve brought me nothing but joy.” He said as he brought you into an embrace as the physician left.

But while Kaiser spewed affirmations of love and joy, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Not when the first thought in your mind had been to compare his—your child to a parasite, like its father it would take and take from you.

Even beasts loved their kin, what a monster you had become to think that of your own child.

“Ahh.” You couldn’t help but wail. You didn’t want to bring such a child into the world, what a cruel mother you were. Uncontrollable sobs echoed through the room as you tried to cover your face, block out the man whose head up until mere moments ago laid on your lap, now looking at you with an unfamiliar expression of surprise. But it was quick to contort into something more akin to hurt and anger.

“…Why are you crying?” He whispered, the lack of his usual confidence and playfulness putting you off. His hands now firmly holding your face in place, leaving your tear stricken face with no choice but to face his.

“My first thought when I heard of the child…” You paused as more tears streamed down your face.

“I wished it’d die!” You exclaimed. “H-How can someone like me be a mother?”

“What have I become? What have you turned me into?!” You broke down once again, unable to see the sheer disgust in Kaiser’s expression, not until he forced your face up again.

“You’re carrying my child, the heir to my empire. You’d best act like it, my dear.” He scared you at times like these, when the familiar playfully hint in his eyes got replaced with a cruel look, one you would give your enemy, or someone you saw as less than human.

There was only one thing you hated more than that, it was when he acted like nothing happened the day after.

As he embraced you and his child, a smile wider than any you had seen before, acting as if you hadn't said what you did. As if you didn’t wilt away every day before your son's birth. He looked like him, like Kaiser. The same eyes, same hair, even his face held more semblance to him than you.

…

You sat in the shade, sheltered from the pathetic rays of sun if they could even be called that. Tea and other snacks set on the small table in front of you. Looking out the garden to see three young boys running around.

They laughed and chased after one and another, wooden swords and whatever the garden could provide turned into toys.

“I’m the emperor so I get to take all your land!” The eldest proclaimed.

“That’s not fair, you were emperor last time! This is my land, you can take Wilhelm land instead!” The youngest retorted, pointing towards his older brother.

“No! That’s not fair, you’re both cheating! Mother, tell them to stop, it’s my turn to be the hero!” Your second son, Wilhelm said, insisting you tell the other two off for cheating.

An airy buckle leaving your lips as you looked at the small boys, little, all three of them holding little if any resemblance to you.

“You two all got your turns, let’s let Wilhelm be emperor today, hmm?” The boys both let out a whine before they resumed their game, still equally as loud as before.

It was hard to face your children at times when you were reminded of when you first found out about your pregnancy. But you’ve learnt to bury those memories now. Between official duties and your children, there was little time for such thoughts in your day. Perhaps that was why you had forgotten all else.

You used to have a home but you remembered nothing of it, not what it looked like nor where you lived, maybe, if you tried really hard, you could recall its name.

There used to be people in your life before Kaiser but now, even if they were in front of you you doubted you would recognize them. It’s hard to hold onto memories when they’re so fleeting regardless of how hard you try. Not when even recalling them is an offence worth punishing in your husband’s eyes.

“Father!” Speak of the devil. The children screamed in unison, running towards Kaiser who had already opened his arms, welcoming them all for a hug.

They looked so innocent, unaware of the true nature of their father. Of course they would be when he stopped you from teaching them a single word in your home tongue, to utter a single word of your past would not be easily forgiven.

“My, if it isn’t my little princes.” He said between chuckles as the children tried to tackle him to the ground.

“Where’s your mother?”

“Mother is over there!” The youngest said, pointing his finger towards you. Kaiser giving you his classic grin. Taking the two youngest boys by the hand as he walked towards you.

As they walked side by side it was easier than ever to tell how much they resemble their father. Everything, from how they looked to even their names was foreign to you.

A chaste kiss on the cheek waking you from your trance as you looked behind you to find your husband and children, all smiling and laughing amongst themselves,

“What were you thinking to be so deep in thought?” He asked, receiving a simple ‘Nothing much.’ As a reply, interrupted by one of the children who seemed eager to jump on your lap and reach for sweets from the small table.

You doubt you’ll ever come to accept this life as your own, you’ll forever look into the mirror and try to recognize the stranger that you had become. But there was no home to return now, Kaiser had made sure of that, tearing it apart piece by piece, no people left on what was once your entire world, not when they all left for better opportunities to neighbouring countries. Nor did you have any pride, not when he tore it apart bit by bit.

Now you could only hope to be content, to one day entirely forget what you had known. To forget the pain of forgetting and to truly live in the present. Even if it’s with the man responsible for putting you through such pain.

Masterlist

#yandere #yandere character #yandere x reader #yandere blog #dark fic #yandere male #yandere scenario #yandere blue lock #blue lock #yandere blue lock x you #yandere kaiser #michael kaiser #yandere michael kaiser #michael kaiser x you

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reverieaa · 2 years ago

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The self, fufilled.

It might have taken me a while, but as I promised in my last poll, I will deliver what you all were most interested in hearing, my explanation of the self fufilled. Consider this a pt.2 of "a change of clothes".

Yes, I say the self fufilled. I thought this play of words is not only interesting to do but would bring light to a new perspective that may help you come to your own understanding.

Many don't sit to really understand what " no other cause to your thoughts other than you" really means to them, we know, but we don't understand.

How do I stop my doubtful thoughts? How do I manifest quickly? how do I feel my wish fufilled? How do I change my state? How do I feel free? How do I stop punishing myself?

Well for the last one, you can start by putting an end to all previous questions, searching with the intention of finding an outside answer.

The opposite of love is hate, as the opposite of to hurt is to heal.

And the opposite of attention is indifference. As Edward art himself said that indifference is truly the answer to all your doubts.

I don't want you to go through your day and force yourself to imagine, affirm, and re-read every post you've ever read again and again until it finally clicks, I don't want you to fight every thought and scold your mind for "going out of place" either.

All that I want you to do is all that is required for you to do, change the inner. We truly are fortunate when I tell you this good news because change is all we do, all we've ever done.

I'll tell you honestly, not to give you hope and neither to shatter it or delude you when I tell you that majority of your problems that sound so complicated as the universe itself, could be solved just through self identification and a rearrangement of the mind.

I don't say this to give comforting lies, false hope, and support because I don't want people with hopes and dreams in tough situations to feel bad and be a moral person, but because the truth is far more comforting than any of it.

I won't tell you to "keep going" when you feel like nothing is working and breaking down. If you feel the need to change something, then change should happen, and it shall as your word is logic to your world.

I want you to understand that you're not meant to fufill the thing itself, but yourself instead. It's not about your desired face, it's about you, it's not about your ideal relationship and sp, it's about you, it's not about imagining the perfect life, it's about you.

It's not about using yourself to fulfill the scenario/desire. It's about it fulfilling and changing YOU.

Right now, you have a bed, you are not imagining that you do, you're not checking to see if you have a bed, you probably didn't even look to see if you have one, it is a CLAIM within yourself. With the same conviction, you use it for your desires. Take this example with things you have in your life.

I don't think people realize that the whole reason why trying changing the outer reality does not work because there is no outer reality to begin with, I mean that literally.

It is crucial to understand when you imagine that you are not creating the desire or a new reality, but you can only conceptualize that version of you to begin with because it already exists.

Let the ego mind go, let the need for outer change go, both its worries and time-frame of your life so far and just sit there with what I'm trying to say when I tell you to feel the wish fulfilled. It is a CLAIM, not a process, a change of identification.

Once you identify yourself with who you actually are, the awareness/ pure consciousness and believe that you is all there is , you won't want to "manifest a df" just to decorate the outer man, but you'll want to manifest it bc it genuinely makes u happy for yourself, same for every manifestation.

It all comes down to a satisfying claim, a claim of your observation that you see as TRUTH and are currently seeing in your mind.

For those who are wondering what knowingness I'm talking abt, it's the same knowingness when someone asks your name, you know you are (name), you know you're (nr) years old.

And so the same way you know your name, you know you have your desired body, the same way you know how old you are, you know you have your dream car.

We identify as body and outer when the outer world itself is WITHIN us, you are the answer to everything as everything has it's root to you, and at the same, everything cam only live through ypir awareness, nothing greater and nothing to "get".

If i view myself as pure consciousness, then I do not care for the 5 senses to show me anything because I don't view myself as just body, and this doesn't mean you can't deal with things in the 3D, because working in the 3D and identifying with it are different things. Therefore, don't feel the need to commit all your 5 senses to your imaginal act.

This isn't a for you to tell yourself: " ok, I have to know I am pure consciousness/ the creator and work with it from there" this post is telling you that you ALREADY are it, skip emotions here, we have established that you are it right now and youvare becoming aware that you are in imagination.

All we do in life is make claims within ourselves about things we are aware of having in the mind. Say you have a red car, and you think about it in your head, you know it's yours, you don't need to check your own drivers license, you know you have a certain hair color, it is a aware claim, you aren't trying to get it, there is no rush to do so, you are at ease knowing it IS so and are just observing your life through that state on consciousness.

And since you are consciousness, and you can get/be anything you want just by being aware that you are it, what is it that you can't do or be in this world? You can't be satisfied going after the "object" itself bc the only way we can enjoy things in this world is through the awareness that we have it, it has no life of its own outaide your own consciousness.

#law of assumption #affirm and persist #manifesation #manifesting #neville goddard #3d #affirmations #loa methods #void state #loa blog #loa

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audreyscribes · 10 months ago

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Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: ⚖ NEMESIS: Goddess of Balance, Retribution, and Vengeance wheel ♎

Author's note: Hello everyone! In lieu of posting the major gods demigod headcanons, here is the minor gods version! As usual these headcanons will contain what it's like being claimed and what it's like for the respective god and cabin, followed by a small story between you, the reader, and the respective demigod of that god. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! [PJO MINOR GODS DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST] Disclaimer: To new fans or strictly TV watchers of the PJO series, future spoilers for the entire PJO series books will be referenced. Read at your own risk.

When you get claimed, it’s usually after one of the following: when you help exact revenge, serve justice, or rage vengeance. Of course when you hear those words, you’re going to think you have to do one of those large, epic moments but in reality, it’s pretty simple. That can be catching something unfair, doing what is right, getting back at your opponent, or simply saying No to something when it is unjust. When you get claimed, something feels balanced within you.

If you have some reservations about being a child of Nemesis, one of your half-siblings tells you it is an honour to be a child of Nemesis. Not just because Nemesis and what she stands for is important, if not sometimes harsh, but because Ethan Nakamura. You’re told about the tale of Ethan and who he was, how he was one of the inspirations for Percy to make the gods vow to claim their children and why the Minor gods have a cabin. You’re even shown the portrait of Ethan at his own altar in the cabin, as a reminder of his sacrifice and his life. If you’re lucky enough, Percy Jackson introduces himself and welcomes you himself to the Nemesis Cabin, just saying something “it was just right”.

However, following that, they also warn you ‘an eye for an eye’ is more than what the eye can see.

If you weren’t ambidextrous before, you are now.

You’re always perfectly balanced and symmetry is important to you. Being fair is also an important factor in your life and one way or another, it will be done.

Because of the domain Nemesis presides over, your cabin becomes a place that acts like a court. You and your siblings often get asked to preside or become mediators in arguments, and be the verdict who is the wrong and who is right. But the deciding factor is always fair. This also means you can pick out lies, though probably not to the extent of a child of Apollo.

You become a believer in working hard for your efforts, and you reap the rewards. If you’re not paid or treated fairly, everyone looks out.

You know other people’s hubris by nature of Nemesis’s domain, so you know to be careful of ignorance and being modest. Just because you know other’s hubris, doesn’t mean you don’t have one.

Given Nemesis is also known to be a distributor of fortune, neither good nor bad, the Nemesis Cabin has a connection with the Tyche Cabin, the goddess of Fortune and Luck.

This isn’t a common fact, but Nemesis’ chariot is pulled by Griffins and you have a certain connection with them. If you manage to get your hands on a gryphon, and tame it, fairly, you’re allowed to ride them in camp. Just, don’t let them go near the Pegasus. Otherwise you’re going to get a long, stern lecture from Butch Walker. He’s still mad that one of the Nemesis children’s gryphons hurt Rainbow Dash.

Speaking of pets and animals, you all have a goose or geese as its Nemesis’ animal. If you have encountered geese before or played the goose game, you know it’s a perfect fit. There has been one time, the Golden Goose, that lays the golden egg; however, it comes and goes as it pleases. Some of your siblings think it is Nemesis herself but who knows? Just don’t give any of the geese a knife or sword or weapon of any kind. Please, no one has recovered from that catastrophic event yet. The Apollo cabin doesn’t want a repeat of reattaching limbs by goose related causes any time soon, even if Paulo said he was okay.

When you get claimed, the feeling of being claimed is being merged with the sweet feeling of catharsis. You got back at one of the campers who has been mercilessly bullying you and trying to establish themselves as bigger than you. Everything came to a head when the two of you were put in a spar and all the time you’ve been honing your weapon skills and observing your opponent, you’ve finally had a perfect opportunity to exact your revenge.

When you were given the moment to go, you readied your weapon, kept your grip firm, and attacked back. You pushed forward with anger and retribution as you swung and moved. You pushed your opponent further and further into a corner, and you kept knocking them onto their back, knees, and hands. You purposefully showed yourself drawing it out, showing them what it was like to be bullied and what it was like to be on the other end of their act; making them feel helpless, fearful, and shamed.

You decided to finish drawing out their punishment as you were declared the winner. People cheered for you, some louder who were once at your position, and as you raised your weapon in the air in victory, everyone gasped out and cheered harder as they saw the claim of Nemesis floating upon your head.

You stared up wide-eyed at the claim as the announcement of your claim was yelled out for everyone to hear. You felt your mouth sour slightly as you remembered faintly from your mythology lessons about who Nemesis was. You weren’t entirely sure if you followed Nemesis’ reputation and domain.

You see a boy come towards you as he looks you up and down before nodding in approval. “You’re definitely showed that you are a child of Nemesis. You delivered their punishment fairly and didn’t take it too far” he complimented.

“Thanks…but I’m not sure if being a child of Nemesis can be entirely a good thing” you said truthfully, shrugging as you did.

The guy rolled his eyes as he put his hands on his hips. “Nemesis isn’t an evil god and she’s just as important, like Ares either. The same goes for being her child. In fact it’s an honour” he said.

“How?” you asked confused.

Damien smirked before he gestured for you to follow. “Because I’m also a child of Nemesis too. My name is Damien White, and I’m also the cabin leader for the Nemesis Cabin” he introduced before taking you to the cabin. You didn’t get a chance to look at the building before he opened it and guided you to a portrait inside. You saw a japanese looking boy who seemed a bit cold, especially with an eyepatch but clearly he was important with the amount of flowers and offerings that laid on the table below his portrait.

“This was Ethan Nakamura, a child of Nemesis. He was the one who made a deal with our mother that brought back balance and helped inspire the hero Percy Jackson of the 2nd Titan War, where he used his divine wish to the gods to recognize the minor gods and their children in camp. His sacrifice is why the Nemesis cabin, and the other cabins are here” told Damien as he looked at the portrait of Ethan. He then turned to you, “Being a child of Nemesis is just as the same as the other demigods, but it’s more of an honour because our former brother.”

You felt better as you nodded. “It might take a while to wrap my head around it but... I’m glad we’re related to such a demigod.”

Damien grinned and nodded, before he guided you out of the cabin, “Come on, I’ll help you grab your stuff from the Hermes cabin and get you settled in your new place.”

You nodded and when you had packed your stuff up, Damien grabbed your stuff for you to let you and another recently claimed demigod say goodbye to the Hermes cabin members, who was just claimed as a child of Tyche. They left first, since they came a bit earlier and their cabin leader was waiting for them outside. By the time you finished saying goodbyes, you came out to see your cabin leader arguing with a girl, who was also with the new child of Tyche.

You saw Damien and the girl yelling at each other, almost getting into their faces and you thought of stepping forward to intervene, lest a cabin war breaks out. You don't know if it's a thing but you're not going to wait and find out. Before you could though, you're interrupted by a voice,

“Oh don't worry about it, those two always argue with each other but they don't ever take it too far” you heard.

You turned and saw a boy, with brown hair and blue eyes. He seemed familiar but you weren't sure where though.

“Are you sure?” you said, looking at the two arguing people.

The boy nodded as he took out his ukelele, plucking a few strings. Something to shift in the air, as you thought “Oh he's a child of Apollo maybe”. As if he heard your thoughts, you jumped when he turned to you with a smirk.

“The girl you see Damien arguing with is Chiara Benevnuti, daughter and cabin leader of Tyche, the goddess of Fortune and Luck. Nemesis and Tyche are sort of connected, so seeing their two children get along isn't unusual.”

“You call that getting along?” you replied skeptically.

“Oh, you would be surprised. One time when the two of them were stuck in the medical tent, I saw Damien move to the cot next to Chiara and the two only argued with each other when people were around” snickered Lester. “If I were ever more poetic, I would say this is a perfect haters to lovers haiku right now.”

“Wait, how do you know this? Who are you?” you asked.

The boy smiled at you and you saw his blue eyes almost seemed like the sky for a moment. The sun glowed behind his head, highlighting his brown hair into what looked like gold. A shiver ran through you and you had an inkling of who this guy was. “My name is Lester Papadopoulous, nice to meet you.”

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six-eyed-samurai · 21 days ago

Note

I saw your requests were open so I was wondering if you could do a Gyutaro fic? If you’re going to make it heart wrenching angst then PLEASE have like teeny tiny bit of comfort or something otherwise my heart cannot take ittt

SUMMARY: Trust fall: in which you slip and let go on purpose, hoping - no, knowing - that someone will catch you in the end. A/N: It was 3am and I was delirious and thinking about that one demon from Judge from Hell that died to protect his girlfriend from Venato and you can see what spawned from there - but as requested the ending is...uh... better WARNINGS: suicide, Gyutaro's usual self harm

Daki had warned him, hadn't she? Stay away from that human or it'll be bad for the both of them - three of them, including her.

But it was kind of like trying to separate two magnets with opposite poles: they kept inching back together until one of them enters the field and they’re practically glued together. Gyutaro couldn’t stay away if he tried (not very hard), using any excuse however pathetic and unbelievable to even just walk past the door and see the shadowy figure behind moving about. Stolen trinkets he claims Daki no longer wants placed on the windowsill, leaving his sister’s body to take a walk on the roofs as the Red Light District burst into color during the night, when it was no one but Gyutaro and-

“Oof - ! It’ll be so much easier to walk up the stairs if I could open my eyes, you know.”

“Walk more slowly then!”

Speaking of a walk…is this how it’s going to end? He’s lied, but only to Daki, himself and maybe denied everything in the face of Kibutsuji-sama’s wrath. He’s a demon who deals in poison, but the ones pouring out of Gyutaro’s mouth tastes worse than anything, bitter and stinging and if he could, he’d take it all back, let go of the hand he was holding, force the one he was leading to turn around and run, run, run far far away. Both from here and from him.

Because Daki was right all along. He should’ve nipped it right at the bud, eaten the human like any good, loyal demon would and Gyutaro wouldn’t be sullenly watching these events fold with something akin to…emotion? Negative human emotions?…rising up within him.

“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

“You already know.”

“Up to the roof, then? What’s got you so secretive about it then?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Maybe he should be nicer, Gyutaro reflected in the only part of his mind that isn’t torn between fear of Kibutsuji-sama and regretful tension of what he’s doing. Yeah, he should be nicer, seeing as it was his last chance to do so. He pulls at the hand faster instead.

Nice. That was a word completely foreign in Gyutaro's dictionary. He'd just planned on toying with the gullible human, play around and push around until it broke and paid for the crime of being fortunate and beautiful. It must already have been broken, because what other human would eagerly await his presence every night, thread fingers into his tangled hair and comb it out, force a festival mask on him in order to blend in with the crowds during walks? Gyutaro despised the Red Light District, even though as both a human and a demon he called that place home; but around his plaything - human - love - something he could take pleasure in the parades, vibrant lights and lively night.

He must be broken too, because what other demon would chase and fall for their prey?

Nice. Gyutaro really has let himself go. Forgotten what he is and forgotten what he owes to Kibutsuji-sama.

Unintentionally his nail digs a little too deep, deep enough to draw blood.

“What's so special about this roof?”

“Nothing. View's better.”

Better is the word, Gyutaro agreed in his mind. Just not to describe the view. Better height. Better for them both.

Kibutsuji-sama’s voice was still fresh in his head. He knew exactly how to play, how to toy, how to push Gyutaro’s buttons until he was tearing scars all over himself to watch them quickly heal themselves and be reminded of how if he didn’t do as the Demon King said the next time he’s slashed it won’t even be a slayer’s Nichirin blade or the sun’s rays that does it. No, it’ll be Kibutsuji himself who does it, for demons are not supposed to be friends - in love - with humans, degrade themselves to those imperfect insects in the dirt. And Gyutaro has just done that, whatever his vehement denials.

It all amounts to nothing in the end. Not nothing, exactly, but in the end the choice was between having Daki killed and him punished or kill the human and all will be forgotten; Gyutaro can’t actually even be sure Kibutsuji will keep that promise of letting the human be. Is it a selfish choice? Probably, but a choice where at least two people are still alive albeit miserable and the third can…can…can do it in a way that won’t leave Gyutaro a raging mess. Do it on their own terms. So, well, nothing.

(Better if neither of them had met in the first place.)

“Why are you being so secretive? That’s no fun, come on, tell me!”

“Nehh, stop nagging, it won’t be a surprise otherwise. Go ahead and turn back if you don’t want it!”

“Oh shut up, you know I do, as long as it’s you.”

“Shut up.”

“Heh, you’re blushing, I can tell!”

Would the truth, or some vague suspicion, inkling of it, not make an appearance soon? Please turn around, please run away, and I won’t follow and I’ll make my excuses and everything will be - just turn around, run away -

There were plenty of other opportunities to run, and Gyutaro would’ve given up a lot of things for it to have happened. If the other would not run, fine, he would run, run far far away from everything that led up to this moment of him coaxing and pulling that hand up the stairs and past everything, beyond anyone who could hear or see or understand.

The stupid human should’ve run from all the nights they spent together, run before he even showed up. But Gyutaro was the one who should’ve run away that night - the first night they’d met.

He’d been out hunting, searching for a good, pretty meal as usual. Beloved Daki had been too picky and greedy and now it was going to take them a while before their house had more beautiful humans to devour. Hungry, he’d stolen off with someone and was finishing up the last of them when damn, had a stupid, scrawny cat really started everything?

The animal had just run into the alley he had squatting and using the shadows to blanket himself with, yowling like it had a dog on its heels, but maybe that was just because it had a stolen treat in its mouth. He should’ve killed the cat right there, to keep it quiet, because the next thing he knew a human had appeared, out of breath and the chaser.

“Oh…is the cat yours?”

He was too stunned to reply, honestly. Gyutaro was ugly. Gyutaro was a demon. Gyutaro had just eaten a human. Usually that was enough to deter anyone.

“My bad, have a good night!”

And after that he should’ve run away instead of stalking and watching and tracking and leaving gifts by the window just because he became a little obsessed over the smallest interaction with someone who did not first notice his looks.

“Okay, at least tell me what's so special about tonight then?”

“We're celebrating.”

Or he’ll be celebrating, alone, for decades and decades to come because demons are immortal and fixable but humans, weak, ugly things, were not. The one he was leading now, trusting blind lamb following the big bad wolf, was anything but weak and ugly if only in unconventional ways, so Gyutaro wondered if they were - could - be different.

Maybe he could make them a demon? Too late, Kibutsuji-sama would still have his head for that; throwing away his precious gift of blood for love, of all insane and worthless things. And it was for the same reason Gyutaro never did it before: change. He was terrified of a potential monster who could only think of its stomach, a bloodthirsty shadow of- damn, he really was going soft, humane. If he were Kibutsuji-sama he would’ve killed him on the spot, so he supposed he should thank whoever was listening for this small mercy.

Humans are so, so delicate. Why would anyone willingly choose to be one? Why was he so besotted over this one, the one trailing after him, excited at imaginative fantasies and expectations for yet another night together, uncomprehending of the truth. A part of Gyutaro wondered how his more unforgivable crimes during his time as a demon weighed less than this act of humanity on his mind?

Humans are weak, ugly things but the one he was leading now was anything but, so Gyutaro wondered if they could be different.

But a human, no matter how beautiful or amazing or strong or everything could survive falling off the roof.

“You can open your eyes now.”

The moon, the sun, the lights of the Red Light District all dim when those eyes open, but for once they darkened enough to rival instead of dominate. “It’s a…nice view, but it’s nothing we haven’t seen before.”

“This roof is taller.”

“Yeah, I know, but what -” The measurement from here to the ground finally clicks. His secretive behavior, his sudden affectionate nature, his irritation when asked, it clicks. The way he had carefully guided the hapless lamp to the very edge, where he wasn’t even holding out an arm for support. “Gyutaro. Look at me.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” he replied roughly, scratchily instead. “It was either you or me.”

Gyutaro likes to make himself sound more selfish than he actually is, doesn’t he? Because me here means me, Daki and you, doesn’t it?

“…Was this always your plan…then?”

“No!” Gyutaro backed away. “It’s punishment - ‘m a demon, you’re - you get it? It wasn’t supposed to happen so I gotta end it. I should’ve just eaten or poisoned or killed you that night.”

“But you didn’t.”

Tense shoulders relax. Gyutaro hardly dared to - he didn’t know what to think. This was more than he could comprehend, more than he could take, demon instincts and attachment warring against one another. He took it out on his face.

“It’s that demon, isn’t it?”

“Maybe. Don’t make this harder.” Gyutaro’s never brought out his sickles before, until now, but he’s holding it up more like a shield than a weapon meant to kill. “This was better. He would’ve done worse to you. You can do it yourself - I’ll be here, I can do it for you - just do it -”

“Why here?” He’s thankful that forgiving (why can’t it be accusing? It’ll be so much easier, so, so easier) gaze has wandered over the ledge and not at him.

“Because everyone else got thrown off as well. It’ll be - it’ll be if you didn’t.”

Also because this was the roof when two broken things watched the sky break from fireworks and lights and laughter below as well.

“Okay.”

It’s too quiet for him. “SAY SOMETHING!”

Gyutaro doesn’t think he deserves that understanding, forlorn smile. “I’ll do it then. If you’ll hold my hand halfway.”

He’s got nothing to say to that so he does it anyway. The human looks like it does (it’s eight letters, starts with I and ends with U, but none of them can say it because everything is-).

“We’ll see each other again, somehow.”

At least no one’s there to witness that one traitorous droplet leaking out of Gyutaro’s yellow, bloodshot eye when the hand slips and - and -

In the midst of the screaming at another body found on the ground Gyutaro retreats and returns to the back of Daki’s mind.

Somehow.

***

“WATCH OUT!”

The kid with the too-big raincoat and scowl on his face barely heard the warning in time before he’s stumbling back and falling on his butt into a puddle. The instigator’s a speeding calico cat with a bell jangling around its neck, so he vents his rage at the rapidly approaching owner instead. “Your stupid cat knocked me over!”

A giggle is the last thing he expects. “Sorry! He’s new and we just brought him home, so I guess Chachamaru is excited.”

“My shoes are full of water,” He tries to complain.

“Oops -” The cat’s scooped up, meowing, and the kid squints at it indignantly. “Sorry again. Do you wanna come in and dry them off then? My mom made dorayaki!”

“That’s not going to make you my friend or anything!” But the boy sulkily tromps after anyways. “…can I bring some back for my sister?”

“Sure!” How bright can that smile possibly be? “What’s her name and what’s yours?”

“…Ume-chan.” He hunched his shoulders, averting his eyes. “’m Gyutaro.”

#Sunny's works #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro x you #gyutaro shabana x reader #gyutaro shabana x y/n #gyutaro shabana x you #gyutaro x fem reader #kny x reader #kny x you #kny x y/n

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intuitively-her · 2 years ago

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What have the angels been trying to tell you?

Pile 1-(Page of cups rx, Ace of cups rx, 6 of swords, 8 of cups rx, The Empress, Strength, The Moon)

Your situation is not as bad as it seems. Please try to see the light in this situation. I promise everything will be okay. You need to get up and work through your issues related to this situation. You're strong! You can do it! It's time to step into your empress energy and show the world what you're made of.

Pile 2-(Death, 8 of cups, 10 of wands rx, 2 of wands rx, 10 of pentacles, 6 of wands, Queen of cups)

You need to let go of this situation and accept it for what it is. It's holding you back from your destiny. For some, you're placing unnecessary burdens on yourself. Stop taking on other people's problems. It's okay to be a listening ear, but not to the point where you're letting people dump their sh*t on you all the time. You need to let go of anything that doesn't serve you. As soon as you do this, you will receive the gifts and recognition that you deserve. It's time to step into your Queen of cups energy. Now is the time to show compassion and care towards others. Kill em with kindness!

Pile 3-(The Hierophant, 9 of pentacles, The Moon, The Magician, The Lovers, Justice rx, Strength rx)

Your partner is being unfaithful towards you. This person has been lying to you about something. It's possible that they could've stolen from you as well. For some of you, you questioned this person about something and they straight up lied about it. For others of you, you've been having a gut feeling about this person and you've been correct the entire time. You need to leave this situation asap. You may feel like you need this person in order to feel complete or secure within yourself. You really don't! You thrive just as much without this person.

Pile 4-(The Magician, 7 of pentacles rx, King of wands rx, 10 of cups rx, The Star, 10 of swords rx, The Sun, King of swords rx, The Empress rx, King of cups)

You're letting your ego get in the way of your good fortune. Let people help you. You're not always gonna have the answers to everything. Let go of control as well. You're really in your own way right now. You're destined for good things, but you keep getting in the way of it. Literally blocking your own blessings. Show more gratitude towards your life and what you already have. You have to be in the energy of receiving to welcome in the life that you want.

#tarot reading #tarot #pick a pile #pick a card #pac #pap #pick an image

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rosethornewrites · 4 months ago

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T & G reading since 7/25

Finished

Teen:

Fact Check (出面辟谣, 以正视听), by dragongirlG (🔒)

出面辟谣, 以正视听: to come forth and refute rumors so that the truth may be revealed

In an effort to preserve Wei Wuxian's reputation, Lan Wangji writes pointed reviews of shoddy cultivation tools which use the Yiling Laozu's name for marketing.

Written for Bearer of Light: a Lan Wangji fanzine.

A tapestry of us, by jalpari

Lan Wangji and Sizhui, through different eyes over the years.

Good Fortune Lies Within Bad, by ereshai

Whatever had happened must have been recent - the child, who they had discovered crying all alone outside the house, was scared and probably hungry, but otherwise unhurt.

Crimson leaves, by barisan (3 chapters)

There is a world where Wei Wuxian could not take another word of slander towards a mother whose smile he couldn’t even remember, a father whose embrace he couldn’t recall the warmth of.

A world where he could not take another beating, another misplaced punishment, another thoughtless insult.

Perhaps he grows tired of fooling himself into thinking that he has a place in Lotus Pier.

That he belongs.

That he is wanted.

Loved.

A Better Lie, by nirejseki

Wait.

This wasn't the Lan sect, with all its strict rules and stricter morality.

This was the Nie.

(Meng Yao identifies an opportunity.)

Descent, by nirejseki

Lan Qiren was old. Lan Qiren was tired.

General:

tiny gentians, by humancorn

Lan Wangji scolds five year old Wei Wuxian and deals with the consequences.

Taking Responsibility, by bavariansugarcookie

Lan Zhan is doing his best to ignore Wei Ying while he's supervising Wei Ying's punishment in the library - but even Lan Zhan's patience isn't infinite.

Or what would happen if Lan Zhan kissed Wei Ying in the Gusu Lan library.

Unfinished

Teen:

A Fire in Your Heart, by Whichie

Cangse Sanren was wild and untamable, playfull and carefree, a kitsune down to her very core. Her son was no different.

Wei Wuxian was not meant to be caged, but when Madam Yu locked his kitsune nature inside himself, he found out quickly that the world will never want someone like him. Better to hide away. Better to pretend to be a normal human than face the consequences of being a fox spirit among cultivators trained to take you out.

That is, until he goes to Gusulan for the lectures, and finds someone who sees past every twisted chain.

A Songbird at Dawn, by mondengel (🔒)

At a discussion conference, Wen Ruohan discovers something he hadn't known he'd lost. As it happens, being a grandfather suits him rather well.

General:

but I figured it out, then made my way back, by MichelleFeather

It was an extreme, a desperate decision fueled by anger towards the entire cultivation world, a grief deeper than the deepest trenches in the ocean. The realization that Lan Wangji would now have to continue on living a second time without his beloved, where Wei Wuxian had died once again. Where, once more, his love had been taken from him by cruel, unrighteous men who thought they knew better, that they were doing the world a justice.

Lan Qiren had seen the state that his nephew had been in after Wei Wuxian’s first death, what Lan Wangji had done in his grief then, and he feared what Lan Wangji would do to himself if he was left alone with this repeated grief.

I Have Arranged to Tie You to Me, by xxxMiaHikarixxx

Lan Wangji is bedridden after receiving the thirty-three strikes as his punishment. He has just been informed of Wei Ying's death. He is convinced he'll never see his beloved again and his soul mourns the loss of him. But something happens in the Jingshi that forces Lan Wangji back to the past, almost three years before Wei Ying visits Cloud Recesses. Lan Wangji is determined to change the past and make sure his beloved is safe and treated with the respect he deserves this time.

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #cql #chen qing ling #untamed fanfiction

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cursedwithwords · 11 months ago

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HP Next Gen OCs: Band Edition

In my version of the next gen, Fred Weasley grows up and opens a nightclub that caters mostly to the wizarding community (this includes squibs and muggles who have some connection to the community), called Colours.

Within the club, he has live music performed by an in-house band called "No One of Consequence" — a group of five with varying backgrounds that he met by pure chance in Diagon Alley. He hired them almost immediately after hearing them play, and they live together in a flat above the club to make it easier to come to work.

Fred only knows a little about each of their backgrounds but trusts them implicitly and loves their company. They become a huge draw to the club, which is even more exciting. Considers them to be his partners, even though he's technically their boss; he sees them as equals.

Name: Malika Shaan

Origin: India

Wand: none

Patronus: none

Profession: Drummer

Sexuality: bisexual

Details: born in India to a long line of illustrious potioneers. For generations, her family has produced incredibly skilled wizards and witches; until she was born. A squib with absolutely no magical inclination, rather than being accepted, she was shunned by her family and considered a dark omen, a sign of their families downfall. The only member of her family who cared for her was her great, great grandfather Malik Shaan, whom she was named for. The patriarch of the family, he was the only one who loved her and took care of her. The rest of her family — parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings — abused and neglected her, locking her in the family estate and refusing to admit her existence to the rest of the wizarding world. She was an embarrassment, after all.

Malik despised the way the rest of the family treated her, seeing her as good fortune rather than bad, but his age and perceived mental decline made it so the rest of the family refused to acknowledge his will despite being the head of the family. So, out of spite, Malik gifts Malika an ancient book of potions that had been passed down for generations in their family. An heirloom meant to be passed to the next head of house, Malik decides they don't deserve it. So when he feels his health fading he gives the book to Malika and tells her to leave the country, because the family no longer deserves the prestige of their name if they're willing to abuse someone not of magical prowess. He passes away not long after Malika leaves.

She can't open the book as it's locked with a magical seal, but she never lets it out of her sight. She promised her grandfather she'd take care of their families legacy, and she intends to do so even at the cost of her own wellbeing. She wears a gold locket around her neck decorated with a crescent moon and a star. Gifted to her by Malik, it holds a photograph of the two of them and is her most prized possession.

Wears loose clothes, generally autumnal colors, and has a gold septum + gold labret piercing. Carries her drumsticks everywhere she goes. In a way, it makes her feel like she's holding a magic wand, which makes her feel closer to her grandfather. A part of her does feel disappointed and angry that she doesn't have magic but has learned to live with it.

Name: Adrien "Ren" Taylor

Origin: Australia

Wand: acacia and re'em horn (an heirloom wand passed down from her mother)

Patronus: bat

Profession: Bassist + Vocalist

Sexuality: aroace

Details: born in the Australian outback, five minutes older than her younger twin brother. Her mother was a Magizoologist while her father secretly worked in black market creature sales and transport. Mr. Taylor lied to his wife about what he did for work in order to access the rare magical beasts that she worked with as a Magizoologist. She was furious when she found out, but instead of letting her leave to call the authorities, he threw her into a room with a chained and injured beast and let her be torn to shreds. He was happy to be rid of her, but was left with two very young children to raise, and he did not want to deal with them.

He and his gang of black market thugs raised Adrien and her brother, teaching them magic through homeschooling and trying to instill a deep fear and hatred of magical beasts in the twins to make them "useful" to the gang. At a young age, her father locks her in an arena with a dangerous beast and is badly wounded. Instead of bringing her to a healer, her father allows her to develop blood poisoning and sepsis, claiming if she can't pull through on her own, then she simply isn't strong enough.

Out of desperation, her brother uses a rare and forbidden blood magic to brew a potion that remarkably enough manages to heal Adrien, but with the unforseen side effect of turning her into what the magical world considers to be a vampire; she develops a strange blood anemia that alters her genes to the point where she needs to consume blood to maintain healthy iron levels; though she hates taking blood from animals or people.

After discovering her vampirism, she and her brother are forced to acknowledge the fact that if their father discovered it, he would likely take advantage of it and extort her condition. Vampire blood and vampire fangs are rare commodities, after all, and their father wouldn't be against selling his own daughter for money. Even if he'd be selling her for parts. So they take what they can carry and run away.

Adrien manages her condition with iron supplements and isn't against stealing bags of blood from hospitals if she absolutely needs to. She's extremely pale, and the pigment faded from her hair as a side effect of her vampirism, leaving it white. Adrien is physically stronger than most people, amplified when she drinks actual blood. She burns easily in the sun, so sunblock and aloe vera are her best friends. Her eyes are naturally blue, but they grew paler after her change, the pigment fading just like it did in her hair.

She normally dresses in all black and has nose bridge and snakebite piercings, both silver.

Name: Mason Taylor

Origin: Australia

Wand: spruce and billywig stinger

Patronus: salamander

Profession: Guitarist | DJ

Sexuality: gay

Details: five minutes younger than his sister, they used to be near identical before Adrien's change, but Mason was born with heterochromatic eyes, which always made him unique. His left eye is the same blue as Adrien's, and just like his sister, he's subjected to alarming abuse by their father. A bit before his sister is injured, their father throws him into a cage with a frightened dragon that reacts by biting his left leg clean off just above the knee. Fit with a prosthetic and walks with a limp.

Transmasc, which adds to the harassment from his father and the gang, but his mother and sister have always been outrageously supportive. It isn't until they run away that he's able to work towards a life — and a body — that Mason can feel comfortable in.

This is reason number 7000 that he loves working for Fred at the club. They're both transmasc and actually have a ton in common, so they get along outrageously well. They have similar senses of humor, enjoy the same sort of media, and have a lot of respect for each other.

GayTransmascJokes™. They are insufferable together (Adrien is very happy for him).

Has a more extroverted personality than his sister, though they both still love animals and feel no hatred or vengeance towards them for the injuries they both sustained. He wears an old bomber jacket with a fur neckline, as well as a brown corded cattleman hat with an occamy feather stuck in the hat band. The feather was a gift from their mother. Not much for tattoos, but his ears are pierced. He and Adrien share a set of earrings that used to belong to their mother. They each wear one of the earrings.

Name: Imamu Abara

Origin: Uganda

Wand: cherry and augurey tail feather

Patronus: blackbird

Profession: Pianist

Sexuality: straight

Details: a graduate of Uagadou and a powerful seer, extremely talented in Divination and reading runes; though his personality is not what one would expect of a seer (basically the opposite of Trelawney). He gets his abilities from his mother's side of the family, where there have been powerful prophets in every single generation without fail. They can be identified by the alarming eye color that they all share — piercing gold, almost yellow, and practically glowing. Imamu hides his eyes behind extremely dark sunglasses in an attempt to protect himself from people who may want to take advantage of his ability.

He has prophetic dreams and can see snippets of people's pasts and futures when he looks them in the eye, which is why he does not like looking people in the eye. He's extremely talented at scrying through mirrors, which is how he prefers to "see". His mother is also a Uagadou graduate, born in Uganda like him, and his father is from London. They move to the UK after Imamu graduates.

In addition to his seeing abilities, he is also an animagus and can transform into a blackbird. He does not need a wand to perform spells, but his father insisted on getting him one when they moved to London, as additional padding of protection. The more "normal" he appears, the less people will badger him, and wandless magic is very rare in England, which makes him stand out too much.

A jokester with a sharp sense of humor and extremely charismatic. He plays into his appearance because he knows he's attractive and is very proud of it (he is his mother's son). He can play both the drums and the piano, just prefers the piano. It was his idea to start the band as a cover to protect his identity as well as his friends' identities because all of them are being hunted in some way.

Is absolutely enamored with Roxanne because he can not see into her head, and he likes that. She's a mystery to him, not realizing that the reason he can't see her future is because her future is with him (and no seer alive is able to see their own future).

Name: Julian "Jule" Reinhardt

Origin: Germany

Wand: willow and veela hair/dragon heartstring

Patronus: occamy

Profession: Bassist + Vocalist

Sexuality: demisexual

Details: born at the edges of the Black Forest to a fairly normal wizarding family, if allowed to grow up properly, he would have attended Durmstrang. Tragically, he was never given the opportunity, as he was kidnapped when he was extremely young by a pack of werewolves who lived in the deep mountains of the Black Forest.

A "family" consisting of just lycanthropes, though very few of them are related by blood. Their way of expanding on their "family" is by choosing young children and stealing them from their families, biting them for the purpose of creating a legacy of lycanthropy to be passed down. It's thought that the first werewolf was made from the Black Forest, which makes the "family" blind with the desire to maintain the purity of their history. Instead, they turn into murderers, kidnappers, and abusers. Jule is just one of the victims.

Julian has no memory of his original family and is not taught much magic by the pack, nor does he have a wand. He does know how the pack works, though, so he knows he had a family and that they are no longer alive. Unlike the rest of the pack, Julian has always felt like an outcast. In an act of desperation to escape the abuse, he decides to run away, though he is in constant fear of hurting people along the way.

He's absolutely terrible around people because of his isolation and has a lot of trouble trying to figure out how to act around them. Extremely quiet and cautious, he hates being touched. He's nervous and anxious but very protective of his people.

He's physically stronger than he realizes because of his lycanthropy (he doesn't know his own strength; in fact, he thinks he's extremely weak). Abysmal confidence (think albus pre-delphini). He doesn't have much faith in his magic and doesn't get a wand until he moves to England. Imamu takes him to Diagon Alley and Olivanders, where he ends up being chosen by an unusual willow wand with a core of braided dragon heartstring and veela hair.

Keeps his black hair long enough that he can use his bangs to cover his right eye, which he damaged badly during one of his first transformations, leaving him half blind and badly scarred. No one can see the scars if his bangs are in place and if they don't look too close. Most of his scars are on the rest of his body rather than his face, which he hides under thick layers of dark clothes: high neck shirts with long sleeves, leather gloves, jackets, etc.

Keeps his nails cut and filed as short as he can to the point where they sometimes bleed because he doesn't want to accidentally scratch someone. Wears gloves as an extra precaution. Also wears a black face mask over his nose and mouth when he's in public (that's how terrified of himself he is).

Being on the stage playing bass with his friends, who love him and understand him in spite of everything, is the only time he feels like he can be anything other than a victim. He's on the stage playing the first time he sees Louis, who he falls in love with at first sight. He doesn't realize it at first and thinks the racing of his heart is a sign of fear as that's the only thing he's ever felt in the past.

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