#He grew the tail himself but it's a choice.

[ranvwoop]

I love trans pokmon they are very fun ..... Of my ocs technically Vwoop has the three fins found on female woopr just because well. Um. I forgor. it's not supposed to have a binary agab tho. And Ren files down the curves on the pkachu tail to have the flat with a slit in it nonbinary swag look.

[temis-de-leon]

He has a nightmare where he rejected you

Characters: Diavolo and Barbatos (x gn!reader, separately)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 5

Main Masterlist

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Diavolo – No one would ever accept you

Your willingness and capability to adapt quickly to the Devildom delights him. Sure, the friendship you develop with the seven brothers helps in your journey, but even that requires some talent and persistence; not everyone gets to enjoy Lucifer’s company, after all.

What a wonderful surprise you were. The perfect human exchange student for his program; you make him have high hopes for the foreseeable future.

The way you grew up, what were you taught and how you existed amongst those who resemble your life are nothing like anything he has ever seen before. Since Solomon is a human with no humanity, the contrast between you and him and everyone else is overwhelming.

Curiously, perhaps that’s why your interest in him developed so quickly.

Sure, he’s handsome and powerful and you will never meet anyone like him ever again, but that’s not why you search for his company, isn’t it?

While accepting his dark nature and respecting his position, you don’t see a ruler whenever you look at him, nor a figure to be afraid of. On the contrary, you smile and join him at his childish whims and treat him like you would with any of the brothers; no titles or inhibitions, just a pure honest wish to spend your free time with him.

Rejecting you is not an enjoyable experience and he regrets doing it for many long days, but the truth is, he doesn’t see a friend in you whenever he stops to gaze at your features.

He sees a human, a short lifespan and no presence in the demon hierarchy; judging eyes questioning his decision to accept your feelings.

He sees no place for you in his life and that breaks his heart more than anything.

Of course, of all the nights he could’ve had this type of nightmare it had to be the one when he wasn’t sharing his bed with you.

His arms stretched, foolishly searching for your body, but he knew you were in your room in the House of Lamentation; sleeping peacefully, he hoped, although he could picture you mindlessly scrolling through your Devilgram feed.

He pushed himself off the bed, grimacing from the ache in his back, the point in his spine where his wings merged with bone. It felt as if he was still carrying his whole weight, standing straight for hours to smile at people who preferred him to be silent and pliable. Responding with hostility would never be the better option, that he knew, but he had spent every year of his life learning how to control his emotions for the future of his country and still, the universe seemed to enjoy testing his patience now and then.

Announcing your relationship to the public had been a calculated choice. While everyone knew you spent time together, holding hands and kissing when you didn’t mind who was watching, and surely doing even more than that in private, it had never been clarified whether yours was a casual affair or a serious commitment. The first would mean the prince was allowed to have fun, with a human no less, but the second implied taking too much from you; perhaps more than you could handle.

You had been there with him the whole night, chin high as well, but no wings or tail to back you. No horns to crown your head. For the first time, he saw your nature bother you, even if you tried to hide it from him. The scrutiny of others had tired you and your smile had disappeared long before his, which he couldn’t blame you for.

Spending the rest of your life with him was a sacrifice on your part. Blood, sweat and tears that you would shed together.

And he respected you for it.

He was so proud of you. So thankful.

Saying the whole situation wouldn’t be easier if he found someone more suitable for the spot you were in would be a lie, but that wasn’t what he wanted. Couldn’t he be selfish this once? He’d already given so much of himself to his kingdom; couldn’t he keep you at least?

The darkness of his room did nothing to ease his solitude, making it seem bigger than it was.

He paced around trying to tire himself again, to no avail. His mind was with you and with the sad expression you wore when you parted ways after the formal dinner and left with Lucifer and his brothers. Although you both expressed wanting to spend the night together, you desperately needed some time alone to clear your head and comfort your heart and, to be fair, so did he.

However, Diavolo couldn’t stop himself from grabbing his DDD to check your chatroom; thankfully, you had been offline for hours. Sitting in his bed while stretching despite the pain, he slowly crafted a long good-night message. A bit cryptic, perhaps, but concise enough for him to go to bed peacefully again.

He would try again tomorrow.

He would try as many times as necessary if just for you.

Barbatos - You didn't catch his attention

He is, by a long far, one of the most important figures in the Devildom. A powerful being who swore servitude to an equally, if not more, powerful demon and acted true to his word from the beginning to the very end.

Ears and eyes everywhere, every time even, he is a valuable asset to the prince and even a friend when the moment is appropriate.

That implies secrecy and control. His speech is calculated and always limited, careful around others. He has to be mindful regarding what he talks about and with who.

What would Leviathan call him? The Dungeon Master?

He is no master of any kind, but the title amuses him nonetheless.

Thankfully, he enjoys the air of mysteriousness his job gives him.

Apparently, you do too.

Even though you’ve always been special, regardless of your unique magic, he hasn’t found you exceptional enough to open his heart to you.

He could and he definitely would in any other circumstance, but there was no push that would make him go forward.

Your confession, somehow, still surprises him.

Him, of all people? Him, who never bothered to spend time with you because he never found a reason to?

Dejecting your feelings is a pity, but you feel no different than a normal friend. It would be a waste of time to try for anything more.

He’s flattered, mind you, but that’s it.

Although he hopes you can continue to be friends, he would understand if you turn him down.

He can live with it; and he knows, with time, you will too.

As much control as he normally had over his unique power, it was impossible not to have slip-ups. Dreams, as he unfortunately came to discover, were the one door he couldn’t figure out how to close. Real alternate timelines and possibilities that never came to be merged in his subconscious, sometimes with unnecessary cruelty.

Rejecting you? Sadly, that’s something that could have happened. There’s so much he has to do, so many things he is responsible for… Perhaps time was for other versions of him more a tool to use than a treasure to keep. Perhaps, for those other versions, you didn’t fit in their schedule.

What a foolish mindset.

How realistic.

How sad.

He scowled, both from the thought and from the pain in his shoulder and his neck. The cushion he had been sleeping on wasn’t fluffy, more to decorate than to do its purpose, and his previous posture was as uncomfortable as it could get. When he tried to get up, planning to continue to do his job, no muscle in his body moved as it was supposed to do. A groan disrupted the silence of the room.

You would’ve called him an old man had you been there and he wouldn’t have had any words to defend himself.

Then again, had you actually been there, maybe the whole situation wouldn’t have happened.

A wave of unbearable warmth suddenly ran through his body, making him jump out off the couch while taking his gloves and jacket off. He huffed at the tidiness around him, not as satisfying as before anymore.

This particular living room wasn’t commonly used unless foreign guests were invited to the castle. Abandoned by everyone else, he sent the little D’s on cleaning duty on occasion, but this time he had decided to do it himself. Why? Perfectionism, of course. No speck of dust in sight, no armchair or chest out of place; red, gold and black, the colours of the crown, present across the furniture without being overbearing.

You had invited him to the House of Lamentation to spend the rest of the evening together, but he had declined, just like many times before. He’d learnt to know over time that you’d grown to expect his rejection, but still asked out of courtesy and perhaps a little bit of hope. How much would it pass until you decided you had enough of asking and stopped?

You were doomed to suffer his rejection, it seemed: in other timelines and your existent relationship with him. His stomach churned at the realization.

Sighing deeply, he waited until his heart settled again into a steady rhythm. He grabbed his discarded jacket and his gloves, faintly smelling the cleaning products’ residue, and grimaced while getting out of the isolated room. The time he’d take to reach the main areas of the castle would be enough for him to send a message to the Young Lord asking for a much-needed break.

Normally, the very few times he did it, he would ask in person and in advance, but the concept of time was filling his mind with anguish. He had already given too much of it to Lord Diavolo and, as much as he loved serving him, giving an approximate amount to you should be almost as important.

His job didn’t allow him to expand the limits, but for you, he’d go as far as he could.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[lovetei]

Can you write Their reaction to Sheep!MC turning into their human form, naked, in front of them but with side characters please ?

I knew people would request for the side characters sooner or later, glad I can write them again :b

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Their reaction to Sheep!MC turning into their human form, naked, in front of them

Warnings:

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

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DIAVOLO:

You were just giving your normal report to Diavolo after you got in the student council

You showed up in an empty hall where his throne is placed in the middle of the other end of it

And he's there

Sitting while looking oh so high and mighty

And you're there

Insisting to fulfill your duties even though you're feeling weird ever since this morning

"Greetings, Lord Diavolo-" You're not even done saying your greetings but you already dropped on your knees

The pain caused by the unnatural feeling of burning inside your body taking over your senses

"MC!" He called out before he stood up from his throne and come down to help you up

"I'm sorry, Dia... I'm just not feeling well-" And then again, you got cut off

But this time, you're not feeling weak

You're feeling all better

You're glowing like some light bulb though

"What happened..." You asked not noticing the once familiar feeling of being on your human knees

"How..." Diavolo just uttered a word and yet you felt a chill down your spine

Your spine?

"How disgraceful..." His voice seemed to grew more deep and husky and when you looked up

You saw yourself naked in the reflection of his eyes

His eyes that are looking at you like you're some prey

Your mind is hazy and your eyes are blurry from all the tears that are streaming out of it "Hmm?~ Are you alright, Honey?" His sickeningly sweet voice asked as he thrusted his hips even harder.

You let out a gasp before your hands gripped the hands of the throne even tighter, trying to spot yourself from falling forward because of his harsh movement "S-Slow downn!~" You whined.

But instead of him following your desires like how it usually works you felt his hand wrap around your neck "But I'm already as slow as I can get..." He dissapointedly whined before he thrusted one more time, releasing his seed inside of you.

BARBATOS:

You have informed everyone that you're not feeling your best today

And Barbatos insisted that he take care of you

Even going as far as to ask for a leave, which he never did back then.

And now he's here spoon feeding you the soup he cooked himself

"I can eat by myself..." You insisted but he just slapped your hand away when you tried to grab the spoon off of his hand

"You're an important guest MC... You need to have energy." He replied to you before he proceed to feed you.

Wait a minute, he never told you what this 'soup' is.

"What do you mean I need energy..? For what?" You asked, confused, by his choice of words.

But he didn't answer you.

Instead he put the bowl of 'soup' aside and loosened his tie.

"It's finally starting huh?" His voice lacked the formality, the modesty.

What's starting?

The unusual heat rising in your stomach?

Or this transformation?

You've lost everything, he blindfolded you, he stuffed your mouth with his tie and your hands cuffed to his own hands while your feet is tied to the headboard putting you in a sinful position.

Saliva dripped out of your mouth as you orgasmed again "How many was that already?" He asked before his hands gripped your waist, making you completely defenseless.

"MHM!" You screamed through the gag as you felt his dick grow larger "You should- stop squeezing me so much." He demanded before his tail ripped the tie off your mouth.

String of saliva flow down the side of your lips as your body submitted to his "T-Thank ywu..!-" Is what you managed mutter before his tail forced its way down your throat.

SIMEON:

You're simply keeping him company as he wrote another chapter for his new book

Sitting on the sofa next to his desk as you scroll through the internet

"MC..." He suddenly called out catching your attention

"What's up?" You tried, putting your phone down.

"Have you ever thought about... You know... Getting your human form back." He suddenly commented

His stands still tapping the key board

"Well... Having this sheep body sure is hard but it's bearable." You answered

"If it's what keeps me alive in this place then do I really have the luxury to choose what my body will be?"

He was shocked by your answer

Shocked enough that he stood up from his seat and grabbed your jaw "Your body is the temple of God... Yous should know how to love it." He suddenly lectured

"How about I show you how?" And with that your whole body glowed bright

You grabbed the edge of the sink as he harshly pounded you from behind "F-FUck, wait..!" You moaned, asking him to slow down for just a bit.

But instead he covered your mouth with his hand and fucked you even harder, his cock achingly hard because of the sight of your saliva seeping through the gaps between his fingers.

“I love you-! S-So much!” Is all he can come up with as his hand moved to your hips and gripped them before his thrusts turned harder, much more erratic. If only his white wings weren't out you would've suspected him as a succubus in disguise.

SOLOMON:

Solomon has been giddy all day.

Always smiling at you whenever or wherever he saw you.

And based on experience, this man is up to something.

And your suspicion is confirmed when he dragged you into an empty hallway and asked you to meet him tonight in the purgatory hall.

But when you arrived in it

You thought no one was home since every light is off

And the lights in Solomon’s lab are the only light brightening the hall through the gaps of the door.

You knocked and he immediately opened the door as if expecting it.

He should be anyways

He let you in and introduced you to a potion, a dark pink one.

“And what does this do?” You ask as you swirl it.

He smirked, his hands behind “It would give you your human body back.”

Your now spread wide on his desk his cock fucking into you, his balls hitting your ass as your soft please and request to slow down fall on deaf ears “Hmm?~ Slow down? But I gave you such a good potion, bringin back this slutty body back to me.” His eyes darkened as you felt him throb inside of you causing you to moan again knowing his cum will be in you again.

“Don’t I deserve a reward for being so useful to y-you?!” He asked, his hips thrusting one last time before he shoot another load of cum in you causing you to orgasm for the third time this night, your eyes rolling back “Fucking hell, ever since I had you in the human world…” Not even long after and he’s already pounding you.

“You’ve been teasing me everyday.” His voice is deep, something you wouldn’t hear from Solomon on a normal day “I-I, NOT!” You tried to object as tears fall from your eyes while you shake your head “Oh, really?~” He teased definitely not falling for it “Lying is bad, little sheep.” With one swift movement he flipped you up, now your back facing his chest “I heard spanking works the best for liars.”

MEPHISTOPHELES:

Mephistopheles have not seen your human form

And he does “not want to.”

That’s what he tells himself everyday.

But his curiosity is way too great to ignore.

Especially how the brothers are constantly searching for answers and ways to bring your human form back

Just what's about you that can make them so desperate?

But luckily

As he is the son of the greatest clan in the Devildom

Their family has a hidden heirloom that can just be of help in this situation

But he won’t tell the brothers about this

And at least, he won’t tell Diavolo yet.

And now he invited you in his mansion

You’re sitting on his bed as he conduct the ritual

And you must expect… This is not how you expect the ritual to end

“Slutty fucking human.” His words are laced with venom as his cock pushed your limits, threatening to tear you apart and yet you’re here, ass up in the air as he tried to push his cock all the way in “I T-T-OLD YOU!” You screamed as tears continuously roll down the side of your face “IT REALLY WON’T FIT IN ME!~” You moaned, still feeling him pushing it deeper.

“Are humans really this sensitive or you’re just an exemption?” He smirked as he pushed another inch in almost knocking the consciousness out of you “Stop fucking squeezing my cock so hard..!” He commanded as a harsh spank landed on your ass making you sob even more “S-Shit… So sorry!” He smirked as he noticed how he’s starting to take a toll on you.

“I’m barely balls deep in you and yet you’re already this reactive?” He mocked you as a distraction before he slammed himself all the way in and holy shit, he tried to not cum on the spot because he knows he’ll really break you if he does but fuck, the way you moan his name is not helping at all “Does it feel good, baby?” His voice is deep and husky as he leaned closer to your ear before biting it.

RAPHAEL:

Oh poor MC

This place does not even let you live comfortably with your own human body

He started assisting you more after he found out that the sheep form is not your original form

And that you actually have a real human body

And then one day

You’re in the back of the library trying to get this book

Diavolo insisted that its safe

For him

But definitely not for you

Considering how the book is starting to attack you

He, of course, defended you with his spear

Not until the book exploded

And you started glowing

“Oh wow… You have your human body back.” His expression does not express it well but he’s glad for you.

He’s glad really.

What do you mean your body feels cold?

Ah… It’s alright.

He knows the best way to make it warm.

Your legs are around his waist, trying to pull him, push him deeper “Patience MC… You’ll start bleeding if I push it all the way in.” He reasoned, making you whine even more. He’s still expressionless but you’ve caught a glimpse of a smirk “Y-You’re just teasing me…” You argued as his hips pushed his cock further in you.

“D-Do you want me to stop?” He looked so shy… You thought you made him feel bad but you can’t help it, you buried your head on his neck and nodded and just when you’re about to reassure him a chuckle left his mouth before his hips harshly slammed in you, not even giving you time to adjust to his length.

A gasp left your mouth as you covered it up, remembering you’re still in the library “W-What’s wrong?!” His words sounded like a taunt as his hips assaulted yours like you two are some animals in heat “You want it like this right..?” His voice darkened even more.

THIRTEEN:

You and Thirteen have developed this habit of hanging out in her cave

It was actually clean

It’s nice, quiet and the temperature is nice.

Though, as the two of you hang out

“MC is your skin really that… Glowy?” She asked

You looked down at yourself and you saw that

Shit

You really is glowing

You looked back at her in horror and you saw how her eyes darkened

“This can’t be happening… I’m death!” She voiced out as she turned to look at your candle

It was bruning flamboyantly, nothing was wrong…

SO WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO YOU?!

She looked at the other candles threatening to blow them all off

If you don’t get to live

They can’t also-

“Thirteen…” You muttered, catching her attention.

She turned around with tears brimming on the bottom of her eyes

It immediately disappeared as soon as your naked form laid before her eyes though.

You whimpered softly as her tongue slithered inside your entrance “T-Thirteen… Give me a break..!” You mumbled as your fingers gripped the covers for its dear life and yet she just lifted her head up a little, a mixture of her saliva and your cum dripping from her mouth before she chuckled “You need to make it up to me… You made me worry and all ya know.”

Her lips started abusing your hole once again as her hands forced your legs open “So be a good little human and compensate me okay?” She managed to say between moans and slurps as she devoured you for the whole night.

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[paintedkinzy-88]

Let's take a step back (or rather, forward) and indulge my wandering mind. Behold! Bad Future Dragos!

I want it to be clear that these are at the... latest point in their lives (AKA, before they die) rather than all at the same time. The design choices are very deliberate in that case.

As always, off I ramble---

Raphael was often called the "Umbrella" of the Resistance, due to his habit of shielding those around him with his wings. He's always done this, ever since he was a dragonet, but the danger is much more real now, and he has a lot more people to protect. As it is, his wings are torn beyond repair. Unless he uses his Ninpo, flying is no longer an option. It's also because of this tendency to constantly throw himself into the front lines that he lost one of his legs. Lucky, Donnie was able to craft multiple prosthetics for him, as his size grew bigger and bigger each day, at a much faster rate than his brothers. Unfortunately, this also made him a bigger target, as he was the first Hamato casualty.

Speaking of Donnie, that serpent held the Resistance together, no doubt about it. He wasn't often put on the battlefield, as his skills were much more needed within their bases building defenses, weapons, armor, indoor gardens, and so much more. He was essential to their survival, working the hardest out of the group of engineers and construction workers they were able to recruit. However, after loosing his tail, back leg, and, temporarily, his voice to Krang hounds, he was kept strictly on base only, much to his dismay. With his focus so narrowed down to just build build build, Donnie created more and more pieces of tech to help him do so, like multiple Shelldon bodies and a constant supply of robot arms (that could of course be used as weapons in a pinch). In the end, keeping him so guarded didn't matter. When one of their hideouts was ransacked before they could escape, Donnie stayed behind to initiate a self destruct. He took out the sister Krang in the blast, as well as a sizable chunk of their army.

Leo was the seemingly fearless leader of the survivors, his way of words convincing countless people of all kinds to join their forces. He actually only took charge after Draxum's death, since the yokai had previous experiences in mass wars and lead them as well as he could prior to Leo. His fins have certainly seen better days, but swimming wasn't much of an option after a few years anyways, as the Krang eventually made the oceans far to toxic to be in. Eventually, with his fins so torn up, Donnie did make him prosthetic wings, as attacking from the air was such an incredible advantage. He also ended up taking one of Raph's old arms after a wound left them having to amputate, and resources to build a brand new one were slim pickings. Sadly, after Donnie's passing, there wasn't anyone with the same knowledge to fix and manage the wings, leading to them eventually just breaking off. Leo mostly uses them to stab aliens now.

Mikey gained a growing group of worshippers rather quickly. He hates it immensely, but his family finds it hilarious. With his mystic powers only gaining strength, and getting increasingly flashy as well, it wasn't too much of a surprise that people would see him as an angel, godlike figure, or deity. He was the heaviest hitter of the Resistance, even before Raph's passing, and spent any free time he had either speaking to their ancestors or helping people nurture the little remaining hope in their base. Despite being almost constantly on the frontlines of the worst battles, Mikey has the fewest scars.

AND, FINALLY: Heights. With a quickly added April to help out. Again, these are at the latest stage of their lives, because Raph would definitely have been Much Bigger Than That had he lived to be Leo's old man age.

(And Donnie has always been the taller twin. It's not his fault Leo had more time to gain a few inches on him.)

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part two)

Steve Rogers x f!reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : Steve tries to settle into his life in the 50s, and we get a glimpse of the days when Steve and the reader were getting to know each other post Civil War.

themes/warnings : pining, unrequited love, Steve beginning to regret his decision (he just won't admit it yet), the NSFW stuff won't happen until after a whiiiile, this is a slow burn (y'all can blame Steve!!)

word count : <2k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist

The 1950s, one month after Steve's arrival

Peggy knows about you. It doesn't take her long to figure it out. What started out as the mystery figure her partner seems to be so wistful over - as time passes, the idea of you becomes stronger.

It takes shape, like you are not just a memory to be gotten over.

You're there, in their very walls, but you're not. Of all the people Steve left behind, your shadow looms the strongest over him.

"She must have been special, Steve. She sounded like a very dear friend," Peggy expresses, one morning over breakfast when they were going through the people in Steve's future.

Past, to be more apt. All those people are no longer going to be a part of Steve's days. You no longer will be.

He thought he would be fine with it all, treating it like the end of a book. This is his fresh start with Peggy, a chance to simply live his life without constant threat of impending doom.

That apple pie, white picket fence, American dream. He wants to have a son and a daughter. Maybe he'll even name them after you and James.

The two most important people in his life then, reflected in the children whom will be his reason for existence.

Everything should be just perfect.

So why isn't it?

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

2017, eight months after the Avengers' Civil War

Being on the run was brutal, but familiar.

A year ago, you were made to choose between the two sides in the Sokovia accords, after your old friend Natasha pulled you out of your over extended holiday.

She wanted you to join her side, Tony's side. They could use all the help they can get to fight Captain America who apparently had gone rogue.

Little did she know that you would end up fighting with him instead, after you found out what his motivations were.

After the war, yourself and all those who acted against the accords were branded enemies of the state. Incidentally, this included Nat, who also had a change of heart.

Captain America - Steve - broke you out of a maximum security prison, and you all branched out in different parts of the world to go into hiding.

At first, you and Nat went to her safehouse in Budapest. Then to one of your apartments in Malta. Eventually, you had to separate to keep the trail cold, and to confuse anyone at your tail.

Which is how you ended up in some remote cabin in Alaska with none other than Steve himself.

And you got to know each other really well.

He was closed off at first, maintaining a sense of cordiality that must come as second nature to him. It was evident that the Civil War took a toll on him. He had an anger, a resentment about him that wasn't there when you first came across him in Romania. When you decided to cross over and aid in his cause.

For the first few weeks, he kept his distance, merely keeping up with what's required of a fellow lodger on the run. He made sure there was hot coffee left for you when he brewed a fresh batch. He was always quiet in his room across the hall. He would say his polite good mornings, his how are yous, before taking his daily walk in the woods, scouting the area for any potential anomalies.

It took a while before he stopped being just Captain America in your eyes, but inevitably, you grew to know Steve Rogers.

And you came to fall in love with him. But you didn't admit this until much, much later.

You're not sure which one of you broke first, but eventually the polite, little greetings turned into breakfast conversations, eventually incorporating comfortable inside jokes.

You discovered that he had a myriad of questions about your chosen life, how you ended up working for The Agency. Much like the Red Room but without any ties to a particular government, The Agency specialized in producing highly-skilled individuals when it comes to combat and covert operations.

For a while, it was your MO to make sure that the widows were unsuccessful in their missions which involved civilian casualties. So you first encountered Nat when the Red Room gave her the task to take you out, but you were too wily and evaded her at every turn.

At some point, and to both yours and her surprise, you actually ended up becoming friends.

You could tell that Steve was holding back in commenting on your choice of profession, but he wasn't really in any position to judge - America's former poster boy turned into their number one fugitive. He wanted to suggest that perhaps there was a better life out there suited for you, one that didn't require you to constantly look behind your shoulder.

But how could he? You were there because of him. In a way, his rebellion pulled you out of your momentary pocket of paradise.

You told him you had retired before Nat called you in, but of course that wouldn't have lasted long. One way or another, you always found yourself back in.

Like you were craving it, almost. Or because you had nothing else but this life. This was your normal.

"What do you think it would look like, if you actually had a shot at normal?" he asked, the glowing embers of the fireplace dancing shadows across his face.

You observed him, and you couldn't help but note how impossibly good he still looked even with his facial hair unkempt and grown out. "What I think it would really look like, or what I would want it to be?"

The corner of his lips raise at your statement. You were right. For both you and him, what you want is almost never what you can get. "Either way," he shrugged.

"Well," you paused. You knew you were stalling, but you didn't really know what to say. "I guess... there was a time when I used to want the normal life. You know - a partner, kids, a lakeside house with a nice backyard, maybe a dog."

"What kind of dog?" he asked suddenly, distracting you.

"Oh, uhm, I like German Shepherds."

He smiled, "I like them too."

That one remark was enough to make your imagination run wild. He likes them too, he said. What must it be like to be with Steve, to live in a lakeside house with him? Enough, you quickly reminded yourself, stop before you get hurt.

You must have been staring at him then, because he casted a gentle glance at you, saying, "Keep going."

You found yourself continuing with more ease, "I never really had a whole family. Only lived with my parents for a time, didn't have any siblings. So when - if, and that's a big if - I do have kids, I'd want more than one. So they would always have each other, you see."

When you looked back at him, his blue eyes were arresting, almost like they're boring right into you. Captain America is trying to get a good read on you, and you feel like you're laid bare before him. But it's not a discomforting feeling.

Maybe it's just the effect Steve has on people. Or maybe it's you. You weren't ready to accept just how much you already took a liking to the Captain America. You just knew - it would not end well.

These things never do.

But then he said, "When you do manage to have all of that, will you send me a postcard? Let me know how you are?"

Your smile widened at his sincerity. He wasn't just playing along, indulging in what you think are just delusions. He actually meant it. "Steve, you'll always be welcome at our lakeside house, you know."

"Our?" he smirked.

"Yeah, well," you leaned back at his implication, but his expression is enough to warm you all over. "I... I meant, mine and my partner's or... mine and my dog's, I don't really know - "

He laughed lowly, the sound hearty and deep in his chest. "I understand what you mean," he said, before adding, "although, I definitely wouldn't mind sharing a lakeside house with you."

"And my dog," you added jokingly, but your pulse had already quickened.

He nodded, but he wasn't finished. "Could be my dog, too." You don't know whether to be grateful or disappointed that he didn't say, and our kids. Grateful, you decided. It had to be that. You were getting too ahead of yourself.

You agreed, playing along, "As long as I get to name him."

"Of course, doll."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The 1950s, two months after Steve's arrival

Steve decides that he would get a dog.

It's about time, he believes. He's always wanted to do so anyway, and what better time than now, when he is settled in a good home base with a lot of backyard space for the dog to roam around.

He wants to get a German Shepherd, and it's fine, because Peggy does not really have a preference.

It is the evening before he is scheduled to visit the animal shelter, when Peggy asks him if he has decided on a name for the dog.

He startles at that, looking up from his plate. He barely registers her hand that has been caressing his own throughout dinner. Steve, being Steve, immediately feels ashamed at how he doesn't seem to be present and appreciating the moment.

"Have you thought of a name?" Peggy tries again.

A name, he ponders. No, he always thought he would leave it up to you.

"I'll figure it out," he says after a while, taking Peggy's hand and bringing it to his lips.

Everything will be perfect.

Read part three here.

taglist: @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan

caution: this is will be the slowest burn, and even MORE angsty when things come to a head.

the next chapter will be from the reader's POV and how she's coping...

Are all of these dog shenanigans alluding to how the reader will walk Stevie boy like a dog??? *evil, maniacal laugh*

Taglist still open!

[devildomwriter]

Barbatos Birthday Special 100 Fun Facts

1. When Barbatos joined the fad of putting a sticker on the back of your DDD that portrayed your emotion his said “Finish your work”

2. Barbatos works for Diavolo because he was both lured in by Diavolo and Diavolo threatened him he wouldn’t become king if Barbatos didn’t work for him

3. Barbatos continues to smile even when angry which scares many people especially Little D No. 2

4. Barbatos can choose from any number of realities and make his choice the one true reality

5. Despite being perfect at almost everything, Barbatos has difficulty acting

6. Barbatos is an excellent dancer according to Asmodeus

7. Barbatos supervises fan club meetings for the student council members

8. Barbatos is a talented ice skater and won the first competition Diavolo held for it

9. Diavolo has forbidden Barbatos to use his powers freely and Barbatos tells Lucifer he will only look into the future when Diavolo explicitly asks him to

10. Despite being a butler Lucifer claims Barbatos has elite status

11. Barbatos is described as a walking tea encyclopedia

12. Barbatos has exceptionally good luck, including always winning the jackpot at the casinos

13. Barbatos and Lucifer’s chat name is “Tea Demons”

14. After being strangled by Belphegor, Barbatos saves MC by fusing the altered timeline and the original timeline together

15. Barbatos’ favorite teas are herbal teas

16. Barbatos appears to love herbs in general and not just in his tea

17. Barbatos mentions that he was never a child

18. Barbatos uses his powers by accessing realities, the past and the future through the doors in his room

19. Solomon once had to summon Barbatos to drive off a headless dragon

20. When Barbatos dresses as a dame to escort Queen Rose, his beauty caused an uproar and piles of fanmail were delivered to the demon lords castle so he decided to never dress as a dame again

21. Barbatos had a pact with Solomon before Asmodeus did

22. Barbatos recommends tea leaves grown in exceptionally low temperatures because it adds depth to the flavor

23. Barbatos enjoys walks at night

24. Barbatos prefers cats over dogs

25. Barbatos is so scared of rats he cannot even say their name

26. To summon Barbatos, Solomon had to use so much magic and energy he nearly died, Barbatos was impressed and decided to form a pact to save Solomon’s life

27. Barbatos once attempted to poison rats with Solomon’s food but instead the rat grew in size and Barbatos took the next few days off recovering

28. Barbatos likes the colors burgundy and indigo, he likes indigo specially because he feels he can wear it everyday

29. Barbatos expresses to MC that due to the nature of his job he’s never had any interest in wearing perfume

30. Solomon supposedly owns Barbatos’s grimoire a sign of absolute trust

31. Barbatos does not like it when people touch his tail

32. Barbatos describes himself as dismayed when he and Diavolo are left out of big events

33. Barbatos was once provoked into fighting a witch when she called him a cutie

34. Barbatos’s motto is “to be selfless and serve the people.”

35. Barbatos always puts together and double checks Diavolo’s schedule for the following day before he goes to bed

36. Barbatos starts his baths with his right arm

37. Barbatos’s dream is to see Diavolo become king

38. Barbatos says that if the Devildom were to disappear tomorrow he’d like to hear from Diavolo first

39. Barbatos is not the active one when it comes to a relationship and desires to be bound by his lover

40. Barbatos cherishes relationship anniversaries and special days of remembrance

41. Barbatos says that for a relationship with obstacles he’d rather give up

42. During a love survey, Barbatos chose "other" for the question "unable to express his feelings frankly." His explanation was that there might be situations where he might not necessarily tell a significant other his feelings.

43. Barbatos can see the past and the future

44. When Lucifer first fell to the Devildom and lashed out at Diavolo, Barbatos was the first one to point out to Lucifer that he had become a demon

45. Barbatos prefers traditional establishments that are quiet and easier to relax in

46. Diavolo considers Barbatos more of a drill Sargent and says he is too harsh

47. Barbatos refused Diavolo’s idea of a cleaning robot because he enjoys caring for Diavolo himself

48. Barbatos will sometimes inconvenience himself if it will make Diavolo happy. For example in a chat Barbatos explains that he would prefer to decline an invitation to appear on a quiz show in order to focus on his duties. However, he considers accepting the invitation just to see the look of delight on Diavolo's face.

49. Barbatos works hard to try and discreetly feed and sneak in ingredients into Diavolo’s food that Diavolo avoids like pickles

50. When the brothers get to rowdy at a meeting Barbatos is quick to use physical violence to stop them

51. Barbatos can utilize forks as weapons

52. Barbatos thinks he doesn’t work out enough

53. Barbatos is always overjoyed to receive Diavolo’s praise

54. Barbatos has been described as the greatest pastry chef in the three worlds

55. Barbatos nearly died in season 4 after rescuing the brothers from the Dark Crevasse

56. Barbatos often saves his left over sweets for MC

57. Barbatos once threw a fork at Mammon’s head for interrupting him

58. Barbatos likes Heavy Metal music

59. Barbatos can open portals the dream world

60. The brothers believe Barbatos is overprotective of Diavolo

61. Barbatos is the first demon Luke bonds with

62. Barbatos is always helping Luke with baking, giving recommendations, and spending time baking together

63. Barbatos’s human world look is meant to represent someone who works with tea

64. The necklace Barbatos wears in his human world look is from a shop recommended by Solomon and might be magical

65. Barabtos reminds MC they should be proud they represent the entire human world

66. Barbatos feels uncomfortable not serving and being served himself

67. Barbatos says he is pleased to see MC enjoying themself

68. In a Sweat-Result from surprise interaction, Barbatos tells MC not even they are safe from his wrath

69. Barbatos refers to MC as master to catch them off guard

70. Barbatos seems concerned about Asmodeus’s excess partying

71. When MC uses a whip on Barbatos he tells them they have a passing grade

72. Barbatos often has to stop Diavolo’s antics like preventing him from bringing a 300 foot Christmas tree into the castle

73. Barbatos likes matching with MC and describes the feeling as warm and fuzzy

74. Barbatos had to stop his duties once to prevent Diavolo from joining a public karaoke contest

75. Barbatos wishes to take MC to a music festival at Hell’s Dome

76. Barbatos often finds himself and Simeon going on outings together

77. Barbatos tells MC he wishes they could have tea together just the two of them more often

78. Barbatos heard MC talking in their sleep once. According to him Mc called his name many times among other things that made him smile which he won’t go into details about

79. Barbatos grew a black poinsettia for MC, the flower is meant to represent the bond between two people

80. To help Diavolo prepare for a pancake stacking contest, Barbatos baked 1,000 pancakes a day

81. Lucifer is confused as to how Barbatos keeps so clean while cooking and cleaning in formal wear

82. To avoid Asmodeus feeling him up, Barbatos dragged Satan to the dance floor instead

83. When MC and Mephistopheles illegally enter the student council library, he immediately reports it and is upset no one cares

84. Little D No. 2 once accidentally exploded the castle bathtub with bathbombs and fearing Barbatos’s reaction hid them with Beelzebub who was also scared of Barbatos’s reaction

85. Barbatos always has to stop Diavolo from eating revelation tomatoes as he believes Diavolo shouldn’t have to reveal anything

86. Barbatos was the first person Diavolo asked to pretend to be his date so he could get ice cream for couples but Barbatos refused

87. Barbatos rarely has dreams but when he does they’re of the future

88. Barabtos saved Luke from drowning when Luke tried to save Serun from drowning

89. When inviting others for tea, Barbatos requests they don’t bring Beelzebub for obvious reasons

90. Barabtos once made Leviathan dishes from various manga and anime he liked

91. Barbatos sometimes helps Luke with his crossword puzzles

92. When Luke is called a demon by Mammon and is stunned and horrified, Barbatos is the one to quickly reassure him that demons are much trickier and ruthless

93. Apparently there was a demon who looked so similar to Barbatos that both Luke and Diavolo were fooled

94. Barbatos once sneezed and accidentally teleported Diavolo to the wrong location, Diavolo used this to guilt trip him into staying in the human world

95. Barbatos has a more recent obsession of recreating buildings as desserts

96. Barbatos “looks on in amazement” whenever Diavolo accidentally sorts urgent and non-urgent documents into the same pile

97. Barbatos has an herb garden at the castle where he grows many herbs including Darkness Thyme which is difficult for even masters to cultivate

98. Barbatos used to have nightmares until he started picturing MC’s face before falling asleep

99. When Solomon accidentally created a potion that made everyone speak differently Barbatos describes it as dark days that will live on in his memory

100. Barbatos was so pleased with Mammon’s hard work at TTWF that he took Mammon to the casinos (Barbatos always hits the jackpot)

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION: LORE, CHARACTERIZATION, AND THE ONE IN WHICH I RUIN A BUNCH OF PEOPLE'S FUN

As usual, this is far from all of the asks in my inbox but I'm trying to catch up 😩thank you everyone for your patience!

For the record, if your ask isn't being answered, that most likely means one of three things:

I am saving it as a possible art prompt.

I sincerely don't have a very interesting or good reply for it yet!

It's a question I have been asked multiple times/the answer is in my pinned post.

Glad you like them!!

As much as I don't limit what I draw to canonical events, vampirism is so antithetical to DU drow's character journey that I couldn't really envision it, to be honest, but who knows! Maybe I'll cook up some Ascended Astarion scenario someday that is kind of a role-reversal of the Bhaalist DU Drow AU I have going on in tandem to the story.

I'll be honest, this is one of the rare times where I'm really not sure which aspect of DU drow's weirdness this is in reference to. Do you know something I don't? 😅

His masochism is very... Classic, I guess? He's in it for the pain and for the emotional connection, and the process of being pierced wouldn't cut it whatsoever, it's too subtle. The body modifications he has are an incidental result of it, but they were never really the goal.

Also having stuff dangling off his face or body would just irritate him, he specifically only does rings because all other types of jewellery get in the way too much. Pre-tadpole Bhaalist drow obviously wore them by the ton, but only as a symbol of status and because he had a permanent new-money complex🤷 so yeah not a piercing-type of character at all, sorry!

He's smooth from the eyelashes-down and profoundly weirded out by body hair LOL

I don't personally think that whatever Astarion had for a home before would bear my resemblance to it after 200 years - having probably gone through several owners, remodeled, if not completely lost to the destruction of the end-game. I do HC that he used to visit it whenever he could as an enthralled spawn to read his mail, but he stopped after his father passed.

THANK YOU, I THINK? I can't say that isn't a passionate description at least!

I'm honestly surprised that this comes up as often as it does LOL but it's just an stylistic choice on my end!

The latter - for sure. He figured that them dying at each other's hands at the end was a given and took that assumption entirely for granted (and I'm sure daydreamed about it often while Gortash went on and on about political strategy during their dinner meetings.)

;))) way ahead of you and by "way ahead" I mean "eventually and whenever I can figure out when to do it alongside the other 30 ideas I am currently juggling" (but I really do want to make a little comic out of it!)

He used them! Not immediately, but he grew to trust the guardian after some initial suspicion and happily gobbled up those squirmy little things alongside Astarion. Because I made his character on a whim and without any planned backstory, I didn't really put any thought into his Guardian's appearance either, so she's just a human woman with a Joan of Arc look going on who's of no significance to him or his past.

But DU drow did trust her, again not immediately but eventually. It was honestly a big kick in the gut to him when the Emperor revealed himself and it definitely set their relationship up to fail from the get-go.

This is also why he didn't ascend to the next stage of Ilithid power, he just stomped the thing dead right on the spot LOL

LMAO I think Gortash is too proud to chase a tail he can't catch like that

He was probably very overwhelmed by the sudden realization that OH, THIS IS ALL HAPPENING BECAUSE OF ME which naturally didn't come across whatsoever to anyone present since he immediately bottled it up and tucked it away out of sight. However, as the story progressed and DU drow helped his friends get out of their respective pickles he was probably able to justify it to himself as it having been for the greater good - since it led to Astarion being freed from his master and Shadowheart to defying the Sharrans.

As for all of the rest of the ensued destruction and death that resulted from it? Well you can't make an omelette without cracking some eggs, or whatever is the wizard version of that saying. He has essentially turned the entire situation into a net-positive in his mind and sleeps great at night because of it.

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #3 Oh Brother,

Imagine dis…

 We all read and heard about the lost son of Bruce Wayne and also the Lost twin of Damian Al Ghul Wayne. 

 But what about the lost brother of Bruce Wayne?

 On the night of the 26th of June, The young Bruce Wayne didn’t just lose his parents but also his brother. After murdering both of their parents the gunman, Joe Chill turned his attention to the boys, one young teen who could not be older than 16 keeping his young 8-year-old from seeing the corpse of their parents. Thinking that it is better to leave the scene with no witness fired two more rounds in the direction of the children and quickly turned tail.

 Daniel Wayne covered his little brother’s body from the bullets catching the two rounds with his own body. Catching the horrified look of his younger brother, feeling the blood in his mouth as well the fact that his own body is shaking from what had just happened in a matter of minutes. Grabbed his brother’s shoulders, smiled, and hugged him so tight as he knows that his brother is not allowed to follow him or his parents to the afterlife for a long time.

 As his consciousness fades he catches the teary-eyed brother of his, trying to catch him before he hits the pavement.

 …

 Clockwork frowns at the timelines between the two realms, one who is not supposed to exist, exists while the other who is supposed to be born is not to be born thus collapsing the timeline of both realms but with the recent development to the other realm made him have a difficult choice. Guiding the young Daniel’s soul to the other realm to replace what was lost.

 …

 Danny grew up feeling missing something, with absentee parents and a parent sibling it's no wonder what he would have missed. 

 Maybe he missed the times when his parents were actual parents to them instead of focusing their attention on their machines.

 Maybe it is the life he had before the tragic accident that changed him.

 Maybe it is the normality between him being a ghost hero and being a normal teen.

 But…

 Every time he saw two brothers playing near Casper High, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of longing.

 His ghostly core and human heartache for the familiar setting to the point he kept seeing a younger “double” of himself.

 Don’t get him wrong he can create clones of himself to help him during fights but this “double” is different from him he looked like someone he missed so dearly while he looked like someone who has the same delicate face as him.

 Which would be impossible if it was always been him and Jazz alone in the house full of things that could potentially end his existence.

 The phantom pain he would feel from bullets on a specific month, day, and time, instead of electricity made him quickly go to Frostbite and Clockwork.

 Frostbite explained that it is quite normal for a newly formed ghost to feel the phantom pains of its reason for death.

 But he died from electrocution, not from bullets.

He went to Clockwork but the moment he saw the figure of his grandfather mentor he couldn’t help but sense a feeling of dread.

 …

 Clockwork knew that in each timeline there would be a day and time for his grandson apprentice to ask about such ire that had been bothering him ever since he became a halfa. Each time he tried to prolong the inevitable but it seems that he was caught off guard for today. 

 …

 Clockwork explained to Danny his crimes to him and his soul. How the Master of time itself forced him to live a life just after he had ended his first one.

 Danny’s mind may have had a million thoughts at the time but at that moment he only cared about two things.

 Who has he been before and what happened to his brother?

 Clockwork explained He was Daniel Thomas Wayne the firstborn son in the union of Martha and Thomas Wayne. He used to live in a manor with his family grandfather/butler, he gained a little brother that was named Bruce Wayne. On the day of his former death day, his brother kept pestering their parents to go to the movies as they have been busy and Bruce felt that he was alone, being loving parents they indulged Bruce in his pestering as they too noticed them being too busy. On the night they went to Crime Alley for a shortcut to Wayne manor, they were ambushed and killed, and his parents were.

 Shakingly, Danny begged to see Bruce, his core ached for his missing family, his brother. Bruce his little brother, hoped that he didn’t follow, he hoped that he is doing fine.

 Clockwork didn’t respond but showed him a one-way mirror-view of his former dimension. There the mirror shows a familiar dining room, with a grown man who has black hair and striking blue eyes talking to a younger boy named Jason as Alfred serves Bruce’s morning coffee.

 Danny could not help but smile, his little brother is all grown-up. Starting a little family of his own, Danny’s only request is to be able to visit Clockwork’s haunt to observe his little brother.

 Each visit made him learn more about the man his little brother turned into.

 He turned into a vigilante protecting the people in Gotham, his favorite soup stayed the same despite the fact he used to eat that soup with someone else, he has an adoption issue (He could not blame him though, not when he adopted both Dan and Dani), then his little brother went and adopted a sentiment starfish from outer space, that he owes his nephews and nieces a ton of gifts from missing their milestones, and many more…

 But he wished that he was there as well…

 When Jason died at the hands of Joker, when he was lost in the time stream, when he learned that he missed a decade's worth of his “blood” son’s life, the death of Damian, not protecting Barbara from being shot by the Joker, letting his demons run his life…

 He just wished he was there to hold his little brother in his arms as he protect him from the dangers of the world just like he had done when he was Daniel protecting Bruce from his nightmares as well the monsters under his bed.

 After a reveal went wrong he gathered up his human friends and flee toward the zone after destroying everything related to ghosts and the realms.

 Taking up the mantle of Ghost king he made sure that he still have time to observe his family on the other dimension.

 …

 Meanwhile, in the DC universe, Ra Al Ghul and Lex Luther had created a bioweapon that turns ordinary people into some sort of zombie slaves of the Lazarus pit minus the death part of being a zombie. Things got out of hand both villains and heroes are scrambling to contain the bioweapon virus as well as looking for a cure as it has spread from Gotham, Metropolis, Star City, and more big-name cities. They could not merely kill the infected just like in a movie from a zombie apocalypse as they are still alive.

 Symptoms include glowing green veins that are seen as well pupil-less eyes in addition to an extra boost in strength, as the infected multiply by having an open wound be infected by the green veins that produce some sort of green murky blood aka the Lazarus pits.

 Danny saw the predicament of his home dimension and decided to intervene, with the approval of his court. He entered the dimension, and as he turned into his human half he noticed that his age was regressed to the time he was murdered.

 The infected ignored and followed his commands as per his position, avoiding any confrontation with his brother or any supers that might demand him why the infected are ignoring him, he pretended to be infected that can think and speak as well that was raised from the dead.

 It was quite easy for him to pretend on the glowing veins as pure ectoplasm flowed through his veins. He just made sure that he is always a glowing green glowstick.

 Walking around in a zombie apocalypse is less fun than he thought it would be, grabbing a backpack that was discarded he filled it up with weapons and started his journey at the foot to look for the cure.

 (Thoughts of seeing his brother made him fill his head full of possibilities)

 On his way to Gotham, he saw his nephew (Tim) surrounded by infected and about to wound him when he immediately snatched him to safety. Seeing the deep eye bags of his nephew he let him rest at his makeshift safe house as he guarded Tim he can't help but wonder why on earth he was out in the open.

 …

 Tim groaned awake as he remembered what had just happened in a few months. Ra’s and Lex made a bio-hazard weapon that was made from the Lazarus pits (Which made him wonder which of the two thought that was a good idea as the Lazarus pits are still a mystery to the Batclan as well to the world) and went out of hand thus ended up having the Justice League cleaning up their mess.

 He remembered being surrounded by the infected after his usual recon, he was pretty sure he broke a rib and his arm as running away from the horde or getting them with tranquilizer darts were the only options, he was sure that it was his end.

 When he woke up he didn’t expect to be still infected free nor the infected teen, who is a blue-eyed black-haired teen, definitely a Wayne bait, in front of him trying to bandage him.

 After the initial confusion and panic and the conversation, he concluded that the bio weapon had evolved to the point of reviving dead teens.

 (Seeing what the Lazarus pit had done to Jason and Ra was not far fetch)

 The teen who introduced himself as Danny woke up somewhere which was near Metropolis and stated that he was nowhere near his hometown nor where he was buried initially and was walking around to find more humans as he was pretty sure when he died zombie apocalypse are nothing more than fantasy as well the supers are but fictions as he kept reading the latest yet tossed out newspapers, which explains the newspapers in the corner and had concluded that it has been more than 2 decades since he died.

 He made an offer to Tim that he couldn’t possibly refuse, he could help him return where he was as the infected tend to ignore him thus having a guide and bodyguard in his injured state as well a specimen that can talk and walk around cities without having the risk of being infected, in return he just needs help in finding his brother.

 After a long tenacious walk to Gotham, both bond over small talks, jokes, and camping as well as filling up Danny with what he had missed in the decade while he was 6 feet under.

 Tim learned that Danny adored his little brother and wished to see him one last time before going back to the dead.

 …

 Bruce was worried, Tim was supposed to time in a few hours back. He along with the rest of the bats and the Justice League members were lucky enough to escape and regroup at a later date. Sitting in one of the fortified safe houses with a few infected being wandered.

 When he was about to check the communication for the umpteenth time the cameras caught something. Immediately all went to the monitor to have a better look at what had just tripped their alarm. There is Tim wounded and bandaged but still infected free, which gave relief to the Batclan behind him on the other hand caused worries.

 An Infected teen behind Tim follows him while looking around him, upon closer inspection they can see the boy’s eyes despite being infected. Some of the Justice League thought that Tim may have found someone who has at least some sort of immunity to the Infected.

 The Batclan on the other hand caught sight of Bruce stiffening along with Alfred. Both seemed to look at the infected teen with familiarity. Luckily that the cameras had audio and played the live feed.

 Tim was talking to the mystery teen about meta-human rights while the mystery teen kept nodding along. Tim asked about the mystery teen’s little brother which the teen brighten up and talked about his little brother’s pranks towards their father every time he left them on their own devices like melting crayons on top of his shoes to adding color according to his little brother. As well as the fact he made a special lullaby just for him.

 The mystery teen began to hum an unfamiliar tune to those who are watching except Alfred and Bruce, Alfred was ready to cry while Bruce made a face that both his co-workers and children never saw him make.

 Bruce’s mind immediately supplied the missing lyrics while the mystery teen kept humming along.

 If I was dying on my knees

You would be the one to rescue me

And if you were drowned at sea

I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe

I've got you brother-er-er-er

I've got you brother-er-er-er

I've got you brother-er-er-er

I've got you brother-er-er-er

 As they were nearing the armed gate of the safe house, Tim asked what is his little brother’s name was as once this was over he was willing to pass the message. 

 The mystery teen smiled sadly and said fondly… oh brother,

[palesweetscherryblossom]

Sacrifice

(AU what if: What if Mythical Forest! Reader had no one and was sent out as a sacrifice? What if Dabi and Shigaraki were respected and feared rather than hated?)

Warning: (Mentions of violence, animal murder, brothels and the use of whore. Non consensual hypnosis)

Long ago, a deal between the nearby village and two nagas had been struck. In exchange for peace and protection from intruders, the nagas would have to receive food and protection fees from the village.

Until they made a seemingly unreasonable demand, they wanted a child. Not a virgin woman nor man, but a child. Shigaraki made his request known at the last exchange, his voice longing for a child to raise as his own.

“I don’t want one of those whores at your brothels, I don’t want your gold, I desire a child.”

His mate, the scarred one who declared himself as Dabi, echoed his mate’s statement. They couldn’t breed and have their own hatchlings, thank the gods for that, so they went with the next option.

The village elders refused that demand, how could they give up their kin to monsters? Had they grown a taste for human flesh?

Were Dabi and Shigaraki that heartless? Once the village denied their request, Shigaraki grew violent. All of the village’s livestock had been slaughtered, blood stained the green grass and the fences.

Some hunters were lured out of their homes and had their bones crushed and skin melted away by venom. Shigaraki had a simple request, why couldn’t they just answer it?

Dabi wasn’t exactly innocent either, he hunted down foolish humans like a feral beast and proceeded to kill them, like a feral beast. The village had no choice but to meet their demands, so Shigaraki could stop his violent temper tantrum.

The forest was dark as you were sent out, you whimpered at seeing the gates to your village shut. You were a measly orphan who certainly wouldn’t be missed, so you were perfect for this opportunity.

You hoped that the rumors of Shigaraki using child bones as toothpicks weren’t true. Sticks and leaves crunched and broke under your feet as you wandered aimlessly through the jungles, birds tweeting and distant howls of wolves filled your ears as you looked around paranoid.

Shigaraki watched as you stumbled around helplessly as he gave a little smile, oh you were utterly perfect. He slowly slinked out of his hiding spot, his tail slithering across the floor. “Hello my dear.” He said softly. You froze before yelping in fright. You stumbled like a newly born fawn as you gave a frightened whimper at seeing Shigaraki. His gaze softened as he got closer.

“Aw, little lamb, it’s okay. Papa is here.” He purred. You couldn’t help but begin to cry from the fear, which utterly broke Shigaraki’s heart. What did those rotten villagers say to you about him?

He had no choice but to work his hypnotic magic on you, forcing you into a state of relaxation and calmness. You ceased your cries as Shigaraki gently lifted you up into his arms. Dabi decided to slink out as well, frowning at seeing your relaxed state.

“You know that shit fucks with peoples brains.” He lightly scolded. “Oh hush, our baby was in clear distress. She needed to relax.” Shigaraki defended as he smiled down at you.

“She’s like a little cherub.” Dabi commented as he booped your nose. Shigaraki let out something akin to a purr before the two slinked together in the forest.

With their new baby in tow

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello, I read this Nanbaka x Reader- Childhood Friend, and I really enjoyed/loved it.

If its okay to request could you do the same one, but different?

Y/N with an animal companion, a literal Monkey.

Romantic: Samon Gokuu Platonic: Guards and Inmates from building 5 (your choice, if you want to add)

Thank You!

-You liked your job, working in Nanba Prison, in Building 5, you were a guard, but you were more of the paperwork type of guard, handling all the reports and paperwork for your supervisor, Gokuu Samon.

-You admired the hard work he put into his building, you also admired his kind heart, willing to let several of the inmates train alongside him.

-You were like the mother of Building 5, to the inmates of cell 8 and Samon to be specific, as you were the one to encourage them to take breaks while they were training, preparing tea and snacks for them.

-Qi adored you, wanting to constantly flirt with you, something Qi and Liang wouldn’t allow, as they both respected you, you treated them like normal people, not as criminals, something they appreciated.

-The only thing that Samon didn’t like about you was your partner, a Capuchin monkey, who is usually seen sitting on your shoulder, his tail wrapped around your neck, to balance himself.

-It’s not like he had anything against your partner, Boo-Boo, but it was the jokes that everyone would make if both were in the same room, telling Samon, “Hey look it’s your brother.” And other jokes like that!

-It was so annoying and irritating!! It would get him riled up almost as much as when he would have to converse with Hajime!

-You were the only one who didn’t make jokes like this, something Samon did appreciate, but only because you didn’t really understand the jokes, much to his dismay.

-Boo-Boo was your baby, the two of you grew up together after you saved him from a poacher’s trap, and where you went, Boo-Boo was sure to follow.

-Boo-Boo was a guard as well, mainly helping you out, but he was skilled in the sense that he could easily traverse vents, hiding from inmates that were out and about, tattling to you on naughty prisoners or guards who were slacking off.

-Many didn’t like Boo-Boo, as he was a snitch, something Qi often complained about, as he would tattle to you if he wasn’t doing something he shouldn’t have been, mainly slacking off.

-Samon did appreciate Boo-Boo’s work ethic, as he would tell the leader of the 5th building if any guards were slacking off, pointing them out, to which then Samon would discipline them.

-You were content with your work, delivering paperwork between the different buildings, making tea and snacks, and staying in the office for the most part, keeping it running smoothly.

-Upa often joked to Samon, as they were both watching you puttering around the office while they were taking a short break, “This building would fall apart if it wasn’t for Y/N.” and Upa had been surprised when Samon just nodded, agreeing with him.

-You hoped that you would get to stay here at Nanba for a long time, you and Boo-Boo both!

[emovulture]

Ghost & Fox Hybrid user.

little bit of context: you're able to shapeshift in and out of a "fox form", and you have ears and a tail when your in your "human form."

Hyper. You were just so.. *hyper*.

They really should've expected it though. You're a fox, after all. Although, it had only been a few months since they rescued you from a lab, and sure, you were a great asset to the team in the battlefield, but sometimes Ghost couldn't keep up with it, even before he was assigned as your handler. So usually, he just simply stood there with his arms crossed as you ran around (in your fox form), squealed, barked, yapped, screeched.. and sometimes clawed. Unfortunately for him and the team, today was a lot more chaotic, mostly because it was heavily raining, and you couldn't go in your afternoon walkies outside with Ghost. So he (and the rest of the taskforce) was forced to endure your hyperactivity until you grew tired. Which didn't seem anytime soon.. it never was when you went through these bursts of energy.

Hell, you were practically bouncing off the walls. You were jumping on and off the couch, running in circles around Ghost, tail rapidly wagging, and your ears were perked up playfully. And not to mention the headache inducing barks and yips.

Ghost eventually sighed, his voice is finally coming to light. "You're going to break something, you do know that right?" And as if it was timed, you yapped excitedly, and jumped off the couch, accidentally knocking over a full cup of coffee. The cup clunked on the ground and spilled everywhere, though thankfully it didn't break. Ghost grumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a moment. "What did I just say.." He muttered, exasperated.

He walked over, avoiding you as you jumped around like a little tornado, and had no other choice but to reluctantly clean up after you. He mumbled and muttered to himself, saying something about you being a no good pest. Though as he was distracted, you saw a chance and took it, so you began stalking him from behind like he was prey, and since you were way to quiet all of a sudden, he got suspicious. "Y/N? What are you doing..?" He asked in a grumble, though getting no response. You eventually got close enough to pounce, but when you did, he turned around and caught you in his muscular arms with a playful scoff. You squealed and barked, turning back into your human form to flail your limbs, but he just chuckled, throwing you over his shoulder. "I knew you were up to no good, you fleabag." He ruffled your hair, pretending to body slam you onto the cushion of the couch, which made you squeal and squirm around playfully. Finally, he was playing your little games, and a miracle eventually fell upon Ghost - you grew tired! Albeit, he did too after playing with you for more then half an hour, but it eventually grew quiet in the room the two of you were in. You had went back into your fox form, snuggling up to Ghost.

Silence.

He sighed, looking down at the fluffy red fox in his lap, his hand hesitating to pet you, but after a few careful thoughts, Ghost gently placed his calloused hand onto your back, gingerly stroking the soft fur. Soft purrs and snorts of affection eminated from you as he pet your pelt, and it stayed like this until the both of you had dozed off in the common room on a couch. It was peaceful with the rain outside, tapping on the glass window, and the sound of your soft snores lingered for a while before they slowly died down into quiet breathing.

---

a/n: Soap totally snuck a picture of you and Ghost cuddling up together during Ghosts nap lmaoo

[axelsagewrites]

Jamie Tartt*Please Stay

Pairing: Season 2/3 Jamie x reader

Word count: 1324

Warnings: Jamie being self-conscious, illusions to sex, but mainly just fluff

Masterlist here

Jamie couldn’t believe his luck when you’d agreed to the date. You’d always known him as the prick of the team but since he came back from Manchester with his tail between his legs he’d been trying to do better. He was done with the one-night stands and shitty comments and stealing all the glory for himself. Even Roy had to admit Jamie was better now than he’d ever been.

So, when he saw you yesterday leaving your office, he couldn’t stop himself from shooting his shot. He’d been thinking about it a lot. Where he would take you on a date, what he would wear, what you would wear. The problem was actually asking you. “Oi are you busy the morrow night?” He asked in that accent you’d secretly grown to love.

He was trying to stay confident, but his hands were shoved into his short pockets as you locked your office door, “That depends on who’s asking?” You said turning back around.

Jamie’s face screwed up in confusion for a moment, “I am,” he said, his shyness replaced with confusion.

“Then im free,” you laughed, starting to walk and Jamie followed without question, “What’s up Jamie?”

“Just was thinking is all,” he said, his hands finding his pockets again, this time playing with a loose string to distract himself, “We could do something, if you wanted of course,” he said, already hating how he was beginning to word vomit, “Movie maybe or dinner, you like that place archers place right? Or Chinese or something maybe something else or even no dinner and just hanging out or something,” he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet to try calm himself.

You stopped walking and Jamie felt his heart sink. Rejection was not exactly his thing after all but when you slowly turned around with a smile on your face, eyebrows scrunched, he thought this was his chance, “You asking me on a date Tartt?” You asked. Jamie opened his mouth to speak but just nodded, scared of what would pour out, “Alright then,” you laughed as you resumed your walk, Jamie quickly moving to follow beside you, “Pick me up at seven yeah?”

Jamie felt his heart flutter, his footsteps grew lighter, as his face cracked into a cheesy grin, “Seven yeah perfect love seven it is,” he said like a kid who’d been given a massive bag of sweeties.

“Great,” you laughed as you entered the parking lot and pulled out your car keys, “i’ll let you pick from one of your many options,” you joked as you climbed into the car, “Just text me the dress code yeah?”

“Yeah, course totally,” Jamie said, desperate for you to pull away so he could celebrate, “See ya tomorrow,”

“Bye Jamie,” you said, a giggle in your voice as you shut the door to your car and started the engine. Jamie waved you off as your car drove off and as soon as it was out of sight, he couldn’t stop himself jumping about the car park like a big dumb idiot, but he didn’t care who saw. He had a date. A real date.

Jamie was up all night picking the perfect restaurant for you to go to. Something new, something fancy, but not too fancy, but not too new. Eventually he managed to make his choice as the clock hit 2 am and he finally got some sleep.

Everyone in the locker room could sense the excitement radiating out of Jamie. However, he was a gentleman now and gentlemen don’t kiss and tell. Well even if he hasn’t kissed you yet. Oh, fuck he might get to kiss you. Jamie didn’t think it could get any better.

Eventually Jamie couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore and soon all the players new of Jamie’s plans tonight. As soon as he told them it was all he could talk about all practises. After practise he spent twice the time he usually would in the shower, making sure he was squeaky clean before rushing how to get changed.

Jamie arrived at your door bang on seven, counting down the seconds on his watch to knock on your door. His jaw about smacked the floor when he saw you. He knew you were fit but right now you were fucking fit alright. Jamie tried to contain his excitement as he led you to the car, but you spoke like you’d known him for a hundred years.

The date went amazingly of course. Jamie was surprised you could put up with him but was grateful each time you laughed at a joke or rested your hand on top of his. He was even more grateful when you said yes to a couple of drinks at his with him promising to get you a taxi that night.

Jamie wanted to be a proper man, a gentleman sort, but when your hand lingered on his thigh, he couldn’t stop himself. He sunk into the kiss like a man possessed and it didn’t take long for you to go from the kitchen to the couch then eventually stumble to bed.

It was a perfect night. When Jamie felt the sun fanning over his face he began to stir, remembering everything that had happened last night. He grinned sleepily as he rolled over, expecting to find you on the other side of the bed. But the sheets were empty. His grin fell and confusion wracked his face as he sat up in the sheets. You were gone.

Jamie wanted to cry. Of course, you thought it was a one-night stand. A one-time thing. You’d went home, taken your clothes with you. Jamie fell back down into the sheets, rubbing the bottom of his palms into his eyes. He felt them water as he tried to console himself.

Of course, he knew he liked you, but Jamie was now realising just how fucking much he liked you. The date had only proved that he’d fallen for you. Now you’d gone, left him in the messy sheets to remind himself at the end of the day this was his life. It was his own fault. The years on one-night stands and sex jokes he’d call across the locker room whenever you walked in. Jamie let his hands fall to his side, staring up at the ceiling in remorse. This is what he gets for being a prick he thought as he shut his glazed eyes.

A few moments later the sound of a door creaking made his eyes shoot open. When Jamie lent up, he was stunned by what he saw. You trying to tip toe into the room with only his shirt on. His head turned to follow your movements as you reached the side of the bed. You grinned when your eyes met his, “Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you,” you whispered as you slipped back into the sheets.

“I thought you’d left,” Jamie mumbled as you settled into the bed, your head turning to face his.

“I had to pee,” you said, your eyes somehow more beautiful in the morning. However, your face screwed up when you noticed his wet eyes, “Unless you need me to go,”

Jamie quickly rolled over till his arms wrapped around your body, his head resting on your chest and his legs strewn over yours, “Please stay,” he whispered, his face nuzzling into your skin.

You bit back a smile at the man nuzzling into you, holding you tightly. Your hand moved to gently stroke his hair, “Yeah course,” you whispered, kissing the top of his head, “You can’t get rid of me that easily,”

“Good,” Jamie said as he gave you a light squeeze, feeling your heartbeat through your chest. You didn’t say anything, instead continuing to gently stroke his hair and it didn’t take long for gentle snores to fall from his mouth. There was no chance you were leaving now.

[mc-lukanette]

One might think that having the most incredible, most creative, most skilled, and most beautiful girlfriend in the world would be hard, but it wasn't for Luka. What would destroy the confidence of hyper-sensitive boys only bolstered Luka's, knowing that such a wonderful girl picked him.

He had no idea what he'd done to deserve Marinette, Paris's sole hero and the guardian of the miraculouses, but he wasn't going to argue.

"Which one are you showing me today?" he asked, leaning forward on her chaise lounge.

She grinned, raising a finger to gesture for him to wait. "You'll see! I don't want to spoil the surprise."

There was a bounce in her step as she walked over to the Miracle Box, her hands gliding along its edges before opening it up. Luka kept himself rooted in place, fighting the contagious excitement but unable to help tilting to the side to try and see better.

It was common for her to show him the various miraculouses in the box and explain their powers, ever since her master had handed it over to her and left the country with his own lover. It wasn't just for fun either - even if they did have fun doing it - as Luka was Marinette's hero of choice when she needed someone to wield a miraculous for her.

She insisted every time that it was a completely unbiased decision, that it wasn't her fault that he could fit so many of them, and who was he to question a guardian?

Marinette turned to face him, holding up a shiny black ring and waving it about. Gesturing at it with her free hand, she explained, "This one's special. It's not safe to use since it's one of the ones Hawk Moth wants, but who knows? You might need to someday."

There was a playfulness to her voice that made him raise a brow, but he suspected that it might have to do with the thought of actually seeing him transformed. He wasn't oblivious to the once-over she'd give him any time he transformed with a miraculous he hadn't used before, and he'd do the same back to her.

That was because, rather than simply explaining the miraculous to him, she would ditch her earrings and don it herself like some superhero version of dressing up for one's significant other. While Luka knew nothing of fashion nor design, he could still appreciate seeing her in something new.

Marinette slipped the miraculous onto her finger, raising it up to watch it shrink just enough to fit her. It transformed, disguising itself to be a simple, rose gold ring, and out came another kwami for Luka to meet.

Said kwami, easily fitting the black and cat theme the ring had previously given off, yawned and stretched now that he was properly outside of the box. His green eyes popped open, tail swishing curiously as his cat-like pupils took in the scene before him.

"Oh, we're finally doing this, huh?" he asked, flying over to Luka. He looked him up and down, then went closer to bat at his bangs. "Hair's soft at least. Would make a nice bed."

"Plagg," Marinette called sternly, putting her hands on her hips.

Luka moved his head to look past Plagg and smile at her. "It's alright. He's not bothering me."

Also, though he didn't say it out loud, meeting each kwami felt vaguely like trying to impress future in-laws, so he gave all of them an extra dose of his patience.

"Good kid," Plagg said, hovering around Luka in a circle before laying himself atop his head. "Just keep the mushy stuff to a minimum whenever I'm here and we'll be fine. I got sick enough hearing her talk to me about it."

Luka looked up despite his inability to actually see Plagg. "You were talking about it?"

"Well—"

"Plagg!" Marinette burst out, panicked. "Transform me!"

Luka heard a mischievous snicker just before Plagg was pulled off of his head and into the miraculous. The rose gold ring returned to its original shape and color, light flowing out of it and transforming Marinette.

As if the fake cat ears that popped out of her head weren't already cute enough, her hair grew in length and fashioned itself into a long braid to represent a cat tail. Lining her black bodysuit were streaks of blue, accentuating her body properly as one would expect of a future fashion designer, and her sclera turned to a lighter blue while her pupils turned into vertical slits to mirror Plagg's.

Luka didn't realize his mouth had opened at all until she strutted up to him and closed it with a clawed hand. He smiled warmly, not subtle about looking her over.

"I love the black and blue," he said, doing his best to compliment her as an artist might. "The blue stripes harmonize with your eyes."

The pink blush didn't do anything for the look she was going for, but he cherished it all the same.

"Thanks~" Her voice came out a little higher-pitched, shyness blending with her earlier confidence. She reached out for him, placing her hands firmly on his shoulders, then began to let herself up onto his lap.

It wasn't usual for them to cuddle during her mini lessons - not right away, at least - but muscle memory kicked in nonetheless and his hands found her sides. Her hair brushed his skin as she buried her face into the crook of his neck and slipped her arms around his back.

"I didn't know you could give lessons from there," he said jokingly, though his own voice was a smidge higher as well.

She didn't joke back, which he found a little odd. Beyond the sound of her shuffling to get even closer to him, she wasn't making a noise of any sort.

He rubbed her sides in tiny circles with his thumb, calling out curiously, "Marinette?"

Now, Luka had a mental log of all of the various sounds that Marinette made over the course of them knowing each other. She had sounds for when she was jumping in excitement, for when she slept, for when she was distressed, and for when she was being cuddled.

But the sound she was making at that moment was entirely foreign to him. It was low, rumbling, and consistent, repeating in almost a rhythmic pattern. He tried to place it without getting distracted by the way she almost seemed to be vibrating against him, but then it clicked.

She was wearing the cat miraculous. He didn't have a cat himself, but they did go to a few pet shelters one day to see the animals and talk about if they'd want one when they were old enough to move out together. He still remembered getting to pet one of the cats, rubbing its side not unlike what he was doing with Marinette.

She was purring.

"Mmm," she hummed, sensing that he'd gotten it, "I...I know I'm not always good with words. We're dating, but nothing I really want to say comes out the way it is in my head. Even when you don't say anything, you can still play music, so..." She sighed, nuzzling him. "I wanted to find a way to speak your language?"

Luka froze, blushing as he looked down at her. Plagg's earlier words came back to mind - that she had been talking to him about their contact - and he realized that it must've been this: that she wanted to know if cat heroes could purr so she could tell Luka what she felt without words: that she was comfortable with him, that she loved him, and that she felt happy whenever he touched her.

Luka wasn't self-conscious about his role in the world, but at the end of the day he was just some guy. He wasn't conventionally attractive like a celebrity on a magazine, he had what many would consider a lower class part-time job, and he didn't have any presence in the public eye. He didn't have any problem with that - less eyes on him meant more time he could eye Marinette - but it left him awestruck yet again thinking of how many boys must've been after her (or how many stupid ones weren't) when her gaze focused solely on him.

"...Luka?" Marinette called when he didn't say anything. The purring stopped as she raised up enough to look at him, the fake cat ears drooping in concern.

He snapped himself out of his reverie. Smiling at her, he took one hand off her side to cup the back on her head, bringing her in to press their foreheads together. He took a deep breath, finding calm in her scent, and assured, "You're already speaking my language, Marinette. Music doesn't mean playing an instrument or purring like a cat does. You're the song in my head, all the time, even if you're not singing."

"Really?" She sounded skeptical.

With a chuckle, he asked, "Do you want to know what my favorite part of your look is?"

She perked up, pulling back so he could better gesture at said part. "What? What is it?"

His smile tilted up to the side in a smirk. He brought a hand to her face, pressing a finger to her lips. "Right here."

Her brows soared, eyes going wide. She pushed his hand away and turned her face to the side so she could laugh, even as her face flushed. "That didn't change at all!"

He pulled her back in, eyes glinting in amusement but no less genuine. "So? You don't need words to tell me how you feel. I know with everything you do for me, and the sounds you make are already music to my ears, especially when we're..." His eyes flicked to her lips instead of saying anything further.

Her blush deepened, her claws raking shyly through her bangs. "S-so... all that practice of hugging my pillow and trying to imagine it was you to see if I could purr? That was all for nothing?"

She asked it lightly, but Luka had never been jealous of a pillow before that day, knowing that it got the experience before him.

"No," he replied with a shrug. "I love hearing whatever you want to give me, but you're already so much. You're more than enough."

He could see her visibly swallow, the stiff embarrassment melting away as she relaxed against him. She bit her bottom lip - carefully due to her fangs - and slowly slid the back of her claws up his stomach, his chest, then over his shoulder.

"Then—do you want to hear a little more?"

It was a request, not a question, and a request he was happy to indulge in.

He kissed her, immediately rewarded with a squeak that transitioned smoothly into a moan. Whenever one of them were in superhero form, it was inevitable that the other would be underneath them eventually due to the strength imbalance, thus leaving him laying flat on the chaise lounge as she kissed him back.

He could hear the purr starting up again, but he much preferred the tune they were creating with their mouths.

[immajustvibehere]

Amidst a Crashing World (2/5)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: Arthur stops by at your cabin again and you serve him a home-cooked meal.

tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no-tb-Arthur, literally your love redemption, maybe smut (but probably not), slow burn (but I mean how slow can a story really burn in five chapters?)

! d/n stands for dog's name. So go ahead and pick a female dog name of your choice!

This is still a little bit of exposition, but I promise...way more fluff in the chapter to come ;)

Link to my masterlist

previous chapter

4700 words

Two weeks after Arthur had initially stopped by at your cabin for the first time, he decided to go again. But when he arrived in the early afternoon, he found the cabin empty. It wasn’t abandoned, he assessed, as he peeked through the window. There was a dirty cup on the table and a big pot on the stove looked as if its contents were cooking, as the lid sometimes wobbled a little. Arthur noticed an addition to your wall. In between your drawings that you had nailed to the wooden wall, you had pinned your own bounty poster. It was the same that Arthur had shown you the last time, though he was sure he used his to light a fire later that week.

He wondered why you had put it up there, since you had complained about the sketch not doing you any favour. Arthur agreed by the way, not that the sketch made you look ugly, it simply didn't look like you.

The horse tracks in front of your house were fresh and Arthur figured you had left only a few hours prior, probably for a grocery run. So, he waited.

He leaned on your fence and sketched your cabin. Then he sketched the nature surrounding it. When that was done, he explored the forest behind the house, mentally mapping the berry bushes and animal tracks he found. When he came back to your cabin, you were still nowhere in sight, so he plucked another tomato from your plant and then decided he'd head to the pond that's only a five minutes’ walk away. Apparently, he’d have enough time for a wash, and it was right to say that he needed one anyways.

It was an unusual hot and humid day, especially for so far in the North and close to the mountains. Arthur suspected he had taken the sticky air from the swamps with him. The sky was clear, though it smelt like rain. Arthur went into the pond stark naked, the water didn't even reach his chest, but he still started to scrub away with a little piece of soap that he kept on his travels. The path that led to your house wasn’t frequently used, he could tell by how far the grass had overtaken the earth that was occasionally trampled by horses or people. He didn’t particularly worry that people would sneak up on him or that anyone would walk past for that matter.

Arthur was busy with washing his hair, scrubbing days' worth of sweat and dirt out of it, so he didn't hear your horse approach. You had been quick to recognize the man in the pond and your grin grew with the shrinking distance between you. Arthur's head plunged under water about every other second to get the soap out of his hair. He didn't hear your first "Hey!", but when you whistled, loud and shrill, the man looked up surprised.

At first, Arthur’s attention was drawn to a Labrador Retriever standing at the pond’s edge, its tail wagging as though it anticipated this strange man to toss him a stick. Slowly, Arthur’s eyes went up and so he found you, leaning forward in your saddle with a cheerful grin on your face. You looked...different to when he last saw you. Your clothes were well cared for, even your jeans were cleaner than any he had seen in a while. A revolver was casually tucked into the waistband of your jeans. Arthur had probably been right about the grocery run, because your horse bore the burden of loaded bags.

It took only moments before Arthur’s face turned red. The poor man found himself taken aback, and before he could do as much as utter a word, you yelled: "Don't go killin’ all of my fish with that stink you’re carrying!" And then you rode on, the dog faithfully trailing behind. Arthur remained still in the water, feeling a mix of embarrassment, confusion and a hint of amusement…if only it hadn’t come at his expense.

Fifteen minutes later, he was dry and dressed and walked back to your cabin. The door stood wide open, and he saw you stirring the big pot. It smelt deliciously like stew.

Though the door was open, Arthur knocked gently, so he wouldn't startle you by entering. You gave him a quick smile before you turned to the pot again.

"I, uh...I hadn't expected-...", Arthur had thought it a good idea to apologize, but he wasn't sure why, so he halted. Then he noticed that you had prepared the table for two.  

"Oh, I didn't know you were expecting someone", he commented, slightly surprised.

"Oh yeah", you turned around with a playful expression. "Don't know if ya've seen him. Naked fella in my pond. I thought he might stay for dinner", you said cheekily. You really hoped he would stay. It was a far reach, but you were curious as to why he had returned.

Arthur took a moment to process your words. He stood still until he had pieced a meaning them together. A smile appeared in the corner of his mouth, mixed with some confusion about your hospitality. Last time you held him at gun point to make him leave...but now, it was like you had hoped he'd be back.

"Just...you might want to take the saddle off your horse. Half an hour, and it will be raining", you said, taking the bowls and filling them with stew.

"Rain?", Arthur walked to the door and looked into the sky. It was as cloudless as he remembered it to be. Though the air held a sticky humidity, and a decent wind swept through the trees behind your house, there wasn’t a single cloud in sight.

"Trust me. I've lived here for a year. The clouds are still behind the mountains, it's deceptive", you grinned, placing the bowls on the table. Arthur's eyes fell on the stew, and he felt his mouth water. This smelled and looked better than anything he has had recently, and he’d prefer to dig in right away. Unsaddling his horse would take a while and...as if you could read his thoughts, you interrupted them: "Can't eat it yet anyway unless you fancy getting your tongue burned off."

"If it ain't raining in an hour, I might take ya in for that 15 dollar bounty", Arthur threatened playfully. You only crossed your arms and mumbled a "Try me."

Arthur had all his stuff in the house in record time and the stew was still steaming when he sat down opposite of you. You had added two slices of bread next to his bowl and a bottle of beer. It was the bread that he took first, and he looked at you surprised.

"'s still warm", he commented.

"Yeah", you smiled, "Client of mine baked it fresh today. It was the last job before I headed back, so it's still warm."

"Client?", Arthur asked, but his full attention was now directed towards the stew. He dipped the bread to soak up some of the savoury juices and had to suppress the urge to sigh contentedly as he took a bite. It was undeniebaly delicious. Indeed, better than anything he had tasted recently.

"You think I make my money robbing and stealing people?", you asked with raised eyebrow.

"Mhm", Arthur nodded, not bothering to offer a verbal response as he was occupied with the food before him.

"I'm...a barber of sorts", you said, "You remember, don't you?"

Yes. He did, now that you mentioned it. You were quite talented with scissor and razor and frequently did the girls’ hair. At one point, even Dutch had trusted his hair to you for some minor trims. It was also useful to pickpocket people, he recalled Miss Grimshaw justifying your worth for a mission once.

"Only I stopped robbing people while doing their hair. It's mostly elders or women from Annesburg. Their husbands work in the mine, and they are in a bad state as it is. I'm cheap, but I do my work well and I have plenty of clients."

"Turned yer life around, then", Arthur mumbled, genuinely feeling a sense of happiness for you.

"Yes. So I hope you don't mind me asking why you've decided to march back into it", though you spoke kindly, there was a sharp edge to your voice.

"Wanted to tell ya that Dutch...I told him yer trail was cold and I couldn't find ya", Arthur explained. A hint of embarrassment crossed his features, prompting him to sit up straight as he noticed he had been slouching over his plate. He cleared his throat, "I think he believed me."

"Thank you, truly", you answered. A huge weight lifting from your heart. So, he did protect you, you wondered.

Arthur asked for a second serving of food, when a thunder rumbled so loud, that the dog jumped up in protest. "Told ya", you mumbled. A few seconds later, the rain began to pour down.

Neither of you said anything until Arthur had nearly finished his second serving. A little small talk followed about the dog, which was calmly lying close to the stove. You had an agreement with the farmer nearby, that you switch taking the dog. Sometimes he needed him for protecting the herd, at other times, you borrowed him for hunting. For the next week or so, he’d live with you.

After this had been discussed, silence ensued again. Then, out of nowhere, Arthur said: "I'm sorry for back then. When ya came to me and told me about yer feelings and I- ehrm."

"You don't have to be sorry for not feeling the same way."

"That ain't it. I was…having a rough day and I…my answer wasn't what yer deserved", Arthur said gloomily, his spoon scratching over the plate to gather the rest of the stew.

Then, he continued: "I really try being an honest man but that night…hell…ya can't even call me half a man the way I let ya down." Arthur chuckled sadly, as if he was remembering the moment.

"What're you saying?", you sighed.

"I'm sorry. 's all. I know I hurt ya a great deal and this wasn't what I wanted."

You nodded in acknowledgement.

"That night, I sat with Hosea and Reverend and we was talking ‘bout Mary…that's why I was a bitter…stupid boy when you approached me."

"Oh. How is she?", you asked drily.

"Mary? I saw her in Valentine a while ago. Needed my help for her brother or something. Not sure how that turned out because I walked away. I was just an errand boy for her."

Arthur was more often the errand boy than he realised. For example, getting you back to join the gang was an errand and had Arthur spent even a minute thinking about it, he probably wouldn't have done it. You exhaled: "Why are you telling me this?"

"I think you deserve to know."

You wanted to let your head drop into the stew. How grateful you were for the little piece of bread dough that you had been rolling and kneading with your fingers for distracting purpose. Otherwise you might have peeled chunks out of your table, because of how tumultuous you felt. Suddenly, the silence was deafening. All you heard was the rain pouring down on your little shack. It violently dripped through the roof in one corner and into the bucket that you had provided there.

Both of you had finished your meals. With a swift motion, Arthur took out a pack of cigarettes.

"D'ya mind?", he asked, already placing a cigarette between his lips.

"Only if you don't share", you said softly. Arthur offered you the pack and you picked out a cigarette. The man struck a match and held it over the table, patiently waiting until your cigarette was lit, not bothering at all that he nearly burnt his finger when he got to lightening his own.

Arthur stood up and walked to the window, a waft of smoke trailing behind him.

"Jesus...", he mumbled as he looked observed the torrential rain. Darkness settled in and visibility worsened with the downpour.

"It won't let up until later tonight", you said, shaking your head knowingly. Observing Arthur lost in thought, he pondered for a while longer in front of the window. Eventually, his gaze shifted to the wall and your heart fluttered as he seemed to thoroughly analyse your sketches.

"You've taken up drawing?", he inquired.

"Days can be long and lonely", you replied.

"Not with her around, they ain't", he added. You were confused at first, but smiled when Arthur knelt down to pet d/n. She happily acknowledged him, her tail wagging energetically.

“What is it with the bounty poster?”, Arthur asked. His hands were busy with navigating through the dog’s fur. You saw how much d/n enjoyed it, as she leaned into the pets. You had collected on of your bounty posters shortly after Arthur had visited you. Why? It was just a terribly corny way of remembering Arthur. The moment he had walked up to your door, you knew that months of trying to forget or get over him had gone down the drain. You might as well acknowledge that you love and want to remember him. But you couldn’t admit that, of course.

“Just to remind me what I’m worth”, you smiled bitterly, “15 dollars.”

“I’m sure you’ve done stuff that deserves a higher bounty”, Arthur cheered.

“Oh yea. I just don’t bother leaving clues behind”, you answered. Arthur didn’t say anything, again. His thoughts seemed to wander, until he pushed himself up on his knees and stated:  "I suppose I should get going then..."

"What? You take baths twice a day now?", you teased. The idea that you would send anyone away in this weather was ridiculous. Arthur looked at you puzzled as if he hadn't understood that you were inviting him to stay.

"It's alright if you stay tonight. I won't have you ride to town in a storm", you explained. Sometimes, plain words are the way to go, you figured. Especially with Arthur. Even though the last time you spoke plainly, it hadn't worked out for you.

"And ya won't try'n kill me in my sleep?", Arthur chuckled and nervously scratched his neck. He was still unsure about staying, despite the premise of getting soaked to skin wasn't nearly as inviting as staying in your cabin, which was still filled with the smell of the stew. Arthur wouldn’t be able to take one more bite, but it smelled homely and comfortable, nevertheless.

Arthur continued: "Last time you threatened to shoot my kneecaps off so-"

"Well, last time, you were an intruder, not a guest. And the news you brought today pleased me way more than the one you gave me two weeks ago."

So, it was decided then. Both of you quickly assessed the sleeping situation. Arthur would spread his bedroll, which had stayed dry - thanks to your warning - at the opposite side of the room from your bed. It was a dry corner and close to the fireplace. You only had one extra blanket to offer, which Arthur accepted gratefully. As it grew darker outside as well as in the cabin, you lit a candle which remained on the table and two lanterns. One of them you put on your bedside table, the other one was taken by Arthur and he simply put in on the floor next to him.

It wasn't that late yet, but you had been on your feet all day. You were exhausted and the steady rhythm of the rain was lulling you right to sleep.

There was no "Good Night" or "Thank you for letting me stay". Neither of you said anything if it wasn't necessary to discuss for logistics reason.

"Want me to blow out the candle before I go to sleep?", Arthur had asked and you had said it would be fine, it was small anyways and would only last a few more hours. The table in the middle of the room pretty much hid the sight of one another, but you still saw that Arthur was scribbling away in his journal, before sleep took over.

You awoke at some point in the night. The rain was still as violent as before, but the candle on the table had gone out. Arthur was asleep, you figured, since he had turned off his lantern. Sometimes, you imagined you heard a snore, but it was really impossible to say with the noise of the weather.

For some reason, you were wide awake. You felt the desire to say something, you wanted to whisper Arthur's name and have him wake up to tell him something. What exactly, you weren't entirely sure. You wanted to thank him for the earlier apology. Strangely, you realised as you stared into the darkness, it had provided comfort you had desperately yearned for. But you knew it was ridiculous to wake him for such a thing, so you simply turned around, facing the wall rather than the direction in which Arthur was sleeping, and forced yourself back to sleep.

Arthur only stirred the next morning when a beam of sunlight pierced through the window. The lingering smell of coffee was something he noticed, even before he had decided it was time to open the eyes and face another day. Given his lifestyle of frequently changing his sleeping place, he sometimes woke up confused. Normally it'd take a few moments for him to remember where exactly it had been that he had fallen asleep. This time, however, his sight fell on your bounty poster on the wall, and he remembered where he was.

Standing up with a grunt, he noticed that you weren't in the house. He also noticed that the early morning had gone, and the sun was already on its way to its zenith. You had gone outside, leaving the door open. In contrast to yesterday, the air had cooled down significantly and Arthur even felt a slight chill as his body adjusted to waking up.

There was a can of coffee on the table and two mugs, one dirty and one clean. Arthur figured that you have had your share of the brown liquid and the rest was meant for him. He thought for a second but decided to put the coffee into the dirty cup, though you apparently had used it this morning, Arthur figured that it'd save time doing the dishes. There was also a pan of milk porridge on the stove and since it also looked like half was missing, he figured that the rest was for him. But he'd rather make sure.

Cup in hand, Arthur walked out of the door. The sun was blinding, the grass wet but green. He saw you immediately, as you were in front of the house, brushing the wetness out of his horse's coat. Your horse stood next to you, looking a offended that you chose to care for Arthur's first.

"G'd morning", Arthur said.

The raspy voice made you smile and look up. Good Lord, the man looked…heavenly. His hair tousled, his shirt all over the place and sleep still lingering in his expression. Yet, with every passing moment, the sun worked its magic, gradually rousing him from his slumber.  You hated how much loved his appearance. You even despised yourself for hoping this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him like this.

"Morning to you, too. Saw the porridge?", you asked, barely spending time on checking the man out but rather focusing on his horse.

"Wasn't sure if it's meant for me", Arthur admitted and lead the cup to his lips. The coffee wasn't boiling hot anymore, but it had a fine temperature to enjoy and still gain some warmth from.

"Oh, I wanted to finish all of it but got sick of it pretty quickly. That's why I collected some berries, uhm", you pointed towards something, and Arthur followed your finger, finding another mug that was filled with some berries, "You can have the rest. I already ate some."

"Thank you", Arthur said, picking up the small mug and shaking it to have a proper look at the blueberries. His thank you sounded generous and kind, you thought.

Arthur walked back inside. He didn't remember the last time he had eaten breakfast. Like, proper breakfast. Not only coffee or a dry piece of bread. He loved the porridge you had made and enjoyed it even more with the berries. It didn't matter how much stew he had eaten the day before, shortly, coffee, blueberries and porridge had been devoured.

"Y/n", Arthur walked out. His hair had flattened a little and he seemingly had found time to arrange his shirt, "I'd fix that roof of yers, if ya let me."

You looked up surprised from your horse, which now enjoyed the same treatment Arthur’s had.

"You don't have to...I don't want to keep you...", you said, almost mumbling the second part. It wasn't true, because you did want to keep him around. Hell, for the first time in a year, you hadn't felt lonely tonight. Making breakfast felt like it had a meaning, if there was someone around to share it with. The last couple of months, you had barely bothered for trivialities like that.

"I want to", Arthur affirmed.

"Then I won't stop you", you smiled. Arthur turned away to walk to the little shed next to your house, but you added a question before his attention was fully on your roof, "Do you mind if I braid your horse’s mane?"

Arthur saw your big grin, and hell he couldn't deny you anything. If you had asked to keep his horse for good, he might have said yes.

"Won't stop ya", he replied.

The day was filled with chores. After you had tended to both horses, Arthur's now adorned with braids in its mane, you got around to cleaning the aftermath Arthur's roof fixing had inside the cabin. Then you said you were off to fish, taking d/n with you. It took you almost an hour to catch two decently sized fish and when you returned, you found Arthur working on your bedframe. It had been askew as long as you remember and you had gotten used to it, but God, your stomach fluttered when you saw him, expertly working the little saw that had rusted away in your shed.

"Not content with my furniture, are you?", you snorted as you laid the fish on the table.

"Sorry, I jus' thought...", Arthur stuttered and looked up.

"It's fine", you laughed, "Thank you for attempting to fix it."

"I'm not good at those things...or a little out of practice at least", Arthur admitted, stood up to have a look at his handiwork. The bedframe looked even, at least.

"Looks better than before", you smiled kindly. And if the bedframe was to break in two when you first sit on it, it wouldn't matter much. Arthur had cared enough to try and fix it.

His eyes now fell on the two big fish. He looked outside, to find the sun has wandered further than he would have expected, suggesting it was early afternoon.

"I should get going...", Arthur mentioned, more to himself than to you.

"You are telling me this after I caught TWO fish?!", you turned around, arms crossed. It had caught you a little bit off guard. Fishing had allowed some time to daydream and in that hour you had already prepared all the questions you wanted to ask him when you served him lunch. So that came like a punch in the stomach.

"Not because I don't want to stay", Arthur uttered, and you found his expression rather gloomy, "I told everyone I''d be back today...we're gonna hit a big score in two days’ time and I expect they want to go over the plan with me..."

"Oh..."

For a moment you thought about telling him that you'd help with the score, no matter what it was. Honestly, any excuse to be with him, be with other people. But you knew it probably meant running right back into Dutch's trap.

You watched sadly how Arthur gathered his belongings. His hat had found a place on the wardrobe and his jacket was neatly sprawled across the chair. In the span of one single night, everything had found its place like he had meant to stay for longer. But you knew that this was merely wishful thinking. Besides, even though you found your feelings for the man come back, you had to remind yourself that he hadn't reciprocated those feelings before and probably never was going to. Yet, he was a friend and a companion, and that, you reasoned, was enough.

You helped to saddle his horse, Arthur inspected the little braids you had worked into his horse's mane.

"Looks real fine", he mumbled.

"Thank you", you grinned, "I'll do your hair next time if ya ask kindly."

"What? With braids?", Arthur responded, looking at you with a comical expression.

"Sure", you grinned, watching as Arthur completed the final adjustments to secure the saddle and his belongings on his horse. He chuckled warmly at the proposition, as if the idea seemed somewhat absurd, yet there was a chance to convince him otherwise.

"Over my dead body, darl-", Arthur swallowed the last word as if he remembered it wasn't a good idea, "I'll stop by again."

"If you do, send word to Annesburg first and I'll have a meal ready", you said with a smile.

"Sure”, Arthur’s eyes fell on d/n as she excitedly circled him. She wasn’t sure if she was meant to say good-bye or if the saddling of a horse meant that she was to go hunting, but she was happy when pet her again.

“Good girl”, he scratched the dog behind the ears, “Take care of her, will ya? I don’t trust her being able to defend herself when a boar comes to steal some tomatoes off her precious plant.”

Despite it being your dog that he addressed so affectionately, you couldn’t help but blush. However, as you glanced to your tomato plants, you noticed a significant number of fruits missing. Yet, you forced a smile on your face and whispered a “son of a bitch” under your breath.

Arthur sighed happily and mounted his horse.  

"Good luck...with the score", you said.

"Thank you. It's Hosea's plan so I don't think we'll need much luck. But I'll take it", Arthur tipped his head and steered his horse away from your little cabin, not without a feeling in his chest that he'd rather stay.

When he had left you far behind, he began to undo the little braids. It wasn't exactly his style, though he couldn’t deny that they were beautiful. Before unravelling each one, he'd take it between his fingers and let it run through them, as if this was an excuse or a way to satisfy the urge to do the same with the fingers that had woven them. When Arthur realised this, he felt like a fool.

"You’re a moron...", he mumbled under his breath. He wasn't sure if he wanted to stay at your place because he envied the way you lived. That you had managed to escape from Dutch's crazy plans which became crazier every week. Or that your cabin was in a secluded and picturesque spot. He could see himself living there by himself. Or with you.

And yet, he had to open the braids because if anyone from the gang saw them, they might recognize your handiwork or realise that Arthur hadn't gone for stealing some pocket money out of idiots’ pocket. By lying to Dutch, he had prevented you to come back and take part in whatever insane score would be next. Arthur was proud of having you kept save, he knew it was the right thing to do. After robbing the bank in Saint Denis, the gang would have more than enough money to make an escape…maybe then he would be able to come back to you.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Next chapter: here

taglist: @photo1030

taglist for this series: @pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @twola @shiokitsune @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463 @yyiikes @renwai @walk-in-sunshine @rdrlady @ivybeeloved @trinswhimsys @reddedmiller @chiefqueefsosa @sauvignon-velvet @mrsarthurmorgan7

Thanks and kisses to @little-honeypie because we've been cooking this shit up together <3

[fishhawish]

Can request some genshin men(your choice)with a s/o who can't cry. Like even when they are sad and wants to cry they can't. If you don't write for multiple characters you can choose anyone you want to. Thanks.

Yeah totes! Hope you enjoy🤍

Sorry for late response btw I got caught up in ROTC

.

Genshin men x reader who can't cry

Angst / comfort

Warnings: none

Gender neutral reader

★

(spun on a wheel contains: Nuevillete, Lyney, Kaeya, Tighnari, Xiao and Thoma)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊

!!not proof read!!

Scenario: Reader had a bad day but can't let out the pent up frustration.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚Nuevillette

He cries for You.

Although it may not look like it, Nuviluette is truly an emotional man. Especially when his significant other is upset. You both lay on the bed, You curled up against him while he holds you tightly in attempt to comfort you. You want to cry but tears won't spill, leaving you in absolutely agony. Your lover can't help but get emotional at the sight, his eyes watery as he cuddles you. He apologizes but he still can't help it. All he wishes of is for You to be happy again. He's really trying his best. He ordered snacks and little gifts in attempt to cheer you up. When the maid delivers them he is the one to answer. Presenting you with the little gift he tried his best to make you happy, smiling at you and speaking in his gentle tone "My dear, I have gotten You a gift. "Please allow me to treat You during this unfortunate time."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚Lyney

He understands You.

Lyney, who grew up in the House of Hearth. Also experienced the inability to cry. Growing up under 'Father' really caused tension for Him as a child. As of currently You now sit with your Magician lover, in his lap on the sofa of his home. Tears waiting to spill but they don't. He sighs and rubs your back gently in little circles. "Ma chérie, please take your time." His loving voice rang in your ears. He looks over to grab the blanket to the side of him and wraps it over both of your bodies. "We have all the time in the world, do not fear " He whispers. Laying back and taking you with him to lay on top of him. He kisses the top of your head and soothes you to sleep with a lullaby that his 'Father' taught him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚Kaeya

He drops everything for You.

Kaeya who noticed that You haven't visited him all day, began to worry. He needed to make sure. He speed walked to your home just to check on You, who also didn't answer the door. Kaeya unlocking the door with the key under the door mat entered the cozy home to see a depressing state. Him dashing towards you to, embracing you instantly. He begged you to tell him what happened, but after he himself calmed down he decided to give you some time. He loves you dearly more than anything. Kaeya gently kisses your temple before picking you up and relocating you back to your bedroom. When You mentioned to him that you want to cry but you can't, he says back a almost silent "me too".

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚Tighnari

He who tried his best.

Tighnari seems to over prioritize work, often not even noticing his own needs. And even if he says breaks are good sometimes, how often does he truly do so? Tighnari isn't as good with comforting, but he knows enough to try to help due to him taking care of Collei. So now here You are, sitting in Tighnari's lap at his desk. Face tucked into his shoulder hiding from the world as his tail wraps around you along with his arm, his other arm finding it's way to intertwine both of your hands together. His thumb rubs against the back of your hand, comforting you. He looks at you, pain filling his heart. He doesn't know what to say, he's afraid that he'll say the wrong thing. Especially without you being able to cry at the moment. But after a while he gathers courage and whispers "It's okay I'm here now."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚Xiao

He fights just for You.

Xiao's daily life consist of fighting the demons that intend to harm liyue. However when he hears your sweet voice call his name, the demons he fends off fate was sealed you opened your mouth. It takes him mere seconds to finish and teleport to You, and seconds to see your gloomy expression. This leaves Xiao in a panic because he doesn't know what to do. Xiao doesn't know much about humans, but he tries his best for you. He gently reaches out to touch your hand, embracing your hand with his. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" He says, worry sinking in his stomach. You suddenly embrace him, trying your best to let your emotions out but its not working. Although Xiao is stiff, he still complies with your action. Gently wrapping his arms around you as well. "I'll always protect You until the end." He says.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚Thoma

He takes the best care of You.

Thoma, who is amazing with caring for others. He loves you more than anything, you're practically his sunshine. So when You walked up to him and ask him for comfort, he's immediately there for you. By the time you asked he's already prepared everything. He takes your hand in his and helps you drink the tea he prepared for you. "Let me spoil you until you feel better, is that alright?" He says worried, you just nod. When you mentioned you want to cry but can't, he feels horrible. He hugs you, pampering your face in little kissing, giving you encouraging words. He always knows how to make you feel even slightly better. He smiles at You. "Here, I'll make your favorite foods tonight. It's all about you sweetheart."

.

.

.

Finished!

Requests open as usual<3

[daes0]

Merfolk prince Rafayel meets a human artist and falls in love. If only things could remain so simple.

Pairing: {Rafayel x Reader]

Rating: {18+ with some monsterfucking}

Word Count: {9.4k words]

Perhaps it was destiny, a predetermined fate that was already written by the stars. The universe had decided that Rafayel is to be loved, and it was never anyone's choice or intention. They simply loved, without control and without respite. Such was the merfolk's fate, to love until the day of their death.

once more to see you

Rafayel was always loved.

Rafayel was always loved. But what is "love" without love? What is love when it is control?

His happiness would bring about peace. His sadness, or worse, his anger brought distress. Rafayel was an idol to the merfolk, to the ocean. It was always meant to be.

Why, then, did it feel so awfully violent?

"Young sir, I don't understand why you must do this," said Ethan with an exasperated breath. He's a servant to the merfolk's royals, but right now acts as the personal caretaker of a twelve-year-old Rafayel.

Currently, he was going after Rafayel as the young prince swam in vain towards the edges of Lemuria.

"Leave me alone, why doesn't anyone ever let me be alone-"

The servant finally managed to catch up to the speedy little prince, catching him by the tail and lifting him up with a gentle grip. Rafayel dangles, fighting and bashing his tail around uselessly. After a few seconds of futility, Rafayel huffs.

"I'm a prince, you can't treat me like this!" little Rafayel barked and yapped.

"Do you promise to not fight me anymore?"

Rafayel huffed again.

"Young sir-" Ethan tried.

"Just put me down," Rafayel sighed, an embarrassed flush on his face both from the futile effort and from being treated like a petulant child. Which, no matter how you approached the situation, he was definitely being one.

The servant let him down, grabbing at Rafayel's wrist and pulling him back towards the castle's gates. "Why must you insist on defying the court? They have nothing but love for you."

"Love?" Rafayel almost growled in his angst. "They don't know anything about love."

"And a twelve-year-old does?" the servant laughs.

"I know enough to know it's not love," Rafayel counters back. "They love me," he does air-quotes on the word, "But no one even likes me."

Ethan thinks to himself that this phase will subside and Rafayel will come to appreciate the affection he is shown by the royal court. "You are loved, Rafayel. The court loves you. The people love you. The ocean absolutely loves you."

Rafayel rolls his eyes and says nothing, pulls on his wrist but gives up on trying to escape his caretaker's grip.

"The ocean would give everything for you," the servant continues to lecture. "You are loved by our holy god, the ocean. Does the devotion of a god not suffice to you?"

"You don't understand," Rafayel mumbles. "No one does. No one likes me."

"But they all love you," the servant tries.

"But they don't like me." Rafayel repeats. "They don't even know me."

The gates finally come up, and the servant signals to a guard to open the entryway so they may come in. Once they're inside, Ethan lets Rafayel go and stares at him pointedly.

"The ocean likes you," the servant says, like a mantra, like it's part of a prayer that Rafayel has forgotten. "The ocean knows you."

Rafayel ignores him. His eyes prickle with heat as he swims, the feeling of tears forming only increasing his frustration. Why can't he just be understood?

The ocean did not, could not remember a time before Rafayel. It seemed to bend at his every whim, lurch at his every move, love over his kind demeanor and gentle nature. The ocean loves him. And in turn, Rafayel loved it.

Perhaps that's why the merfolk were confused, then, when the ocean grew dark.

Rafayel had loved the ocean, that much was true. He loved it like he was meant to, like he was made to. This was fine, this was how things were meant to be. Except Rafayel was not convinced that the ocean actually loved him. It was never a true love, you see. A true love would allow him to grow, to change and to thrive. A true love would not spoil him like a child that was perpetually young. A true love wouldn’t hurt. Right? Surely it wouldn’t?

"Is that the little prince?" a civilian whispered to another, surprised to see Rafayel out of the castle without a servant.

Rafayel just swam, trying to seem like this is just another normal day and not drag more attention to himself. It was pretty difficult though, as he's wearing a black cloak with purple outlininings- a piece clearly made for royalty and for someone who's more than a little suspicious.

Him being out and about had become more of a common experience now. Rafayel was older, having matured to an adult and finally being allowed to come and go from the castle as he pleased without a servant tailing him everywhere.

…except there's definitely a few guards still following him.

Rafayel looks behind his shoulder in a quick glance, and to his own surprise he realizes that he managed to lose the last castle guard. Not trusting the situation quite yet, he dodges down an alley and into the bustling street of a night market.

And of course, when Rafayel looks over to where he just was, a castle guard is frantically searching around.

That took so long, he thinks to himself, Gods, I'm tired now.

"Is your name Rafayel?"

Rafayel turns his head, surprised that a civilian is confronting him. He doesn't see anyone at first, then looks down and sees a young child that couldn't be more than eight years old.

"Did anyone ever tell you not to talk to strangers?" Rafayel snarks, but swims closer to the ground to be eye-level with the kid.

"But you're the prince, right? You're a good person!" the kid explains.

Rafayel chuckles. "Sure I am. Where's your parents?"

"Mommy is getting something right now," the kid says, looking towards one of the kiosks. "What about your mommy?"

Rafayel is taken aback by the kid's question. Perhaps he's just too young to know. "I don't have a mother. The ocean is my parent."

"How does that work?" the kid asks, clearly confused.

"You'll understand when you're older?" Rafayel tries.

The kid nods, but isn't fully convinced. "Does that mean you weren't born? You've always been an adult?"

Rafayel looks over the alleyway he came from and sees a few guards coming closer. He turns back to the kid, stuck between running to keep swimming versus staying here and making sure the kid reunites with his mom. Making a quick decision that absolutely annoys him, Rafayel turns to the kid. "No, I was born one day and grew up just like you. The royal court raised me."

"All those people?!" the kid exclaims, suddenly excited. "That's like having ten mommies!"

"That's enough," his mom says, frustrated but clearly relieved that her kid didn't go too far. "I'm so sorry, sir."

Rafayel straightens up. "Completely fine," he reassures her.

The kid and his mother begin walking away. While they're leaving, Rafayel hears the kid ask, "Why is it so dark these days?"

Rafayel feels a sense of guilt, knowing that his actions have such a present impact on his people's lives. Despite this, he still yearns to escape destiny, to make a mark that is his own.

Once the two are gone, Rafayel sighs, back to his earlier predicament. The guards are no longer hiding, instead waiting by the wayside for his next move. Rafayel, deciding it's been a busy enough day as it is, finally relents.

Rafayel was 24 when he finally reached the outskirts of Lemuria, always interrupted by happenstance, always the ocean's doing. But finally, after so long trying, the ocean had relented and allowed him to leave Lemuria. He had reached for this distance for so long, the furthest away from what was supposed to be his home. Further and further into the ocean, and closer and closer to the edge. Too far, too close to leaving the depths of the ocean.

Closer to the beaches. Closer to the humans.

The ocean allowed it. Of course it did, it had no reason to think that Rafayel would actually leave. He's a merfolk afterall, and a prince on top of that. This was just a childlike curiosity. Something to change from, something to one day forget. Though the ocean darkened in its greed, wanting the prince's attention all to itself, it let Rafayel have his useless little wants. The ocean knows where Rafayel's heart is, and it trusted that instinct. 

Or it did, anyway. And it let him slip a little too far away from its grasp.

If Rafayel were to think back on this moment, he would’ve felt some level of regret. Things were so much simpler before his rebellion. But still, he would do the same. He would do the same.

Over the endless line of the beach, on top of such white sand with a heat so intense that it almost felt like glass, was a human like no other.

It was you.

Or, well, a version of you. A version that lived on a beach house and was an artist, who spent your days searching for a muse to be inspired by. A version of you that hasn’t met Rafayel yet.

You were perched on your window, watching as the lazy waves slowly receded from the shore. 

And Rafayel, poor little Rafayel. His heart didn’t stand a chance.

"Grandma, I'm doing fine," you spoke to your phone. "I really appreciate all your help, but I still don't know if I want to sell this place."

"But you can use the money to pay for art school," your grandma counters. "I know I wasn't for it before, but I want you to follow your dreams."

You sigh. "I- I don't know, grandma. I'm not sure if art is what I want to do with my life. And either way, I don't think I can go back to college."

Your grandma sighs. "I know you had a hard time before, but time has passed. You've grown, you're more confident now, you're-"

"Confident?" you repeat, an incredulous look in your face. You shake your head, "Grandma, just give me more time to decide. I just- I need more time to make a decision. I know you gave me the beach house so I can use it for art school, but I have so many memories here. I need time to- to come to terms with it. With you leaving to a home, with this place maybe going away. With, with life changing."

Your grandma is quiet for a moment. "You always hated change. What did I always tell you?"

You say it in tandem with your grandma, "Change means that you're growing. I know, I just still need time."

Your grandma finally relents. "Fine. You know I love you and just want what's best for you."

"I know, grandma," and you mean it. "I love you. I'll come visit soon, okay?"

"Make sure you do, _____. See you soon."

Rafayel had looked up, gazing with a doe-eyed look upon the human. He repeated your name in a soft voice, marking it to memory.

He had only caught the end of your conversation, realizing that he had swam so close to land that he was near humans now. Near you, in particular.

His companions, however, seemed unimpressed. “A human,” the fish surrounding him had basically spat out. “_____ cannot love you. _____ can never love you. Not like the ocean. Not like Lemurians.”

Rafayel’s frustration came quick, but he remained quiet. "She will be the first human I meet," he declares.

“Never love you, never!” the fish echoed in a chorus that seemed to crescendo into a screeching, bleeding sound. "Never! Never!"

Rafayel watched as you reached out to touch the water. You had extended your arm out, and maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe it was a blinding yearning for the other that had taken hold of Rafayel. But when you extend your arm, the tips of your fingers touching the water, Rafayel could only see it as a destiny outside of destiny. Happenstance, coincidence. That somehow, you knew something outside of the universe, and you wanted to break through the shackles of both of your kinds. It was wishful thinking.

“Never!” the fish yelled out again.

Without a second thought, Rafayel fled from his spot and abandoned the mocking fish.

He was not supposed to come to you. The merfolk were strictly forbidden, at the cost of exile, from interacting with the humans. But this was love, was it not? It meant something. It meant everything to Rafayel. This crime must be forgiven. Surely the ocean would forgive him.

He had expected you to be surprised. Maybe give him a shy smile. Not for you to back up in fear, a string of curses out of your mouth the moment the darkened form of Rafayel had pierced the surface of the water, dropping your phone straight down to his head. It bounces off him and his ears flicker back.

But when you saw him, saw the love in his eyes and the earnest smile on his face… Ha, as if it could be romantic! You could only scream as this strange man suddenly appeared before you.

“What- who the hell are you?!”

Rafayel felt a little hesitant at your reaction. This was not the story of love at first sight that he had imagined.

He tried to say something along the lines of, “My name is Rafayel,” but outside of the water, his voice was ragged and broken.

Lemurians had a rocky relationship with humans, hence why royals were required to learn a human language or two. Rafayel was glad he understood you, but unbeknownst to him, Lemurians need time to adjust to the air and be able to speak within it.

You looked at him for a moment, your panic turning into confusion. “W-what?”

“Rafayel,” he tried again, but he couldn't help but flinch when the sound of his own voice reached his ears.

You had looked back behind you, to the mess of idle drawings and nearly empty sketches. Seemingly deciding something, you turn back to the mysterious creature in front of you. “My name is _____. Are you… a merfolk?”

It was obvious, truly. Your question did not need an answer, what with the fins of Rafayel’s ears, the scales trailing the edges of his face, the gills on his neck. But Rafayel nodded, giving you a smile that he hoped seemed reassuring but revealed the edges of his fangs.

Rafayel spent weeks next to you.

“You're real,” you say slowly as realization and excitement lit up your face. “You're actually real.”

Eventually, you and him worked to move him to the bathtub so you could interact directly. It took a lot of tries and a couple bruises, but eventually Rafayel left the ocean.

Eventually, he wasn't part of the ocean anymore. Didn't live in its flesh, didn't breathe through its blood. Eventually, Rafayel was gone.

For now, the ocean remained quiet.

You two had a hard time communicating. Rafayel relied on gestures and overly expressive body language to talk. But no matter, he understood you, and you tried your hardest in turn to understand him. For some reason, he seemed to understand you quite well, outside of missing the context that comes from living on land. You didn't quite understand why, but you hope that Rafayel would soon be able to communicate more directly.

One time, you had the idea to put your head underwater, but that proved futile. While Rafayel could speak much more clearly this way, it sounded like a bad recording to your ears. Mumbles and syllables lost in the water. So for now, you just had to wait for Rafayel to hopefully be able to speak your language with time and practice.

For now, this version of you was an artist, and Rafayel became your muse. You drew everything about him. His pretty face with its sharp angles and soft skin, his eyes that seemed to be divided in both red and blue, his dark purple hair that was so hard to color just right, the green and blue scales that trailed on the side of his face and sparkled down to his neck like multicolored freckles, his silhouette in and out of the water, the mystery of who he is, the companionship that he had given the lonely artist.

Rafayel became everything. The theme, the musing, the art, the parchment, the water used to clean the paint off the brushes, the paint itself as it hit the canvas. It was overwhelming, but it felt like love.

At some point, the way you looked at him changed.

The first time it happened, neither of you were really prepared.

And Rafayel, always looking at you, always seeing your little habits and gestures that you never thought anything of. He knew. He knew that his feelings weren't only his own.

Rafayel had felt cramped within the confines of the bathtub, so you had gotten a pool and installed it within the living room. It was somehow harder to get Rafayel from the bathtub to the pool, but you managed after an hour or so of trying.

He stretched, taking a deep breath within the spacious water. The muscles of his toned stomach ripple and straighten, his already impressive figure expressed in such a majestic way that you can't help but stare.

You hear him laugh.

"I wasn't looking!" you exclaim.

He laughs more, but then extends his hand towards you. You take it and he helps you into the pool and over the metal. You're too surprised by his merfolk strength, or maybe he pulled a little too hard, because you manage to slip and fall on top of him.

You two fall further in the water, submerged. You open your eyes to see Rafayel gazing longingly at you, the bubbles of your breath tickling his skin like glitter. The scales that go up and down his strong arms seem even more brilliant under the water, you realize. Their color glistens in a tricolor shine of green, blue, and purple. His arms surround you, and you feel those scales surround you with their warmth, interrupted only by skin on skin. You like this, you realize. You like Rafayel.

Rafayel helps you up to the air. You're breathless, only one of your desires fulfilled.

And in that moment, you don't think about anything. You simply close your eyes and you kiss him.

His lips part in surprise.

The kiss ends as soon as it started, with your pulling back. A sudden cold fear suddenly fills your senses, but it doesn't last long.

Rafayel's lips shake, temptation and utter want in his eyes. 

You make out his mouth forming into the sounds of your name, the soft breath tickling your own as he gets closer. He looks down at your lips, and he looks back up to your eyes.

So you kiss him again.

And you kiss, and you kiss, and you kiss. Your hands trace his pretty face, and you kiss him. His scales against your skin, and you kiss him. His hair falling on you, and you kiss him. Him, him, him, and it feels like infinity.

You feel him, feel his silhouette, the edges between his skin and his scales, the space between his neck and his chin, the softness of his lips and his skin and his everything.

And then you pull back for breath.

Rafayel gazes at you, dipping down to the water to collect himself. You notice momentarily that he needs the water to breathe, and then all of a sudden his mouth is on yours yet again.

His arms are around you, touching, tracing, loving. You feel his fingertips ghost over your sides, and suddenly you're taking off your shirt. He touches you, delighted by your suggestion, and his warm hands fumbles your breasts, his anxiety and excitement fully apparent. Your nipples pebble under his touch, and you gasp when he leans down to take one in his mouth.

His tongue- maybe it's because he's a merfolk, but it's hard and direct as it swipes against you. You make a low noise in the back of your throat, and you realize now that you want more, need more.

In one swift movement, you pull down your bottoms, taking your underwear with it, and Rafayel almost laughs in glee. His hand moves lower, and when he touches the growing heat, you can't help the soft sound that escapes you.

He's gentle against you, careful not to hurt you, but all you feel is the pads of his fingers and he's too soft, too soft, so you grab his hand and push him down against you.

Rafayel smiles, makes a raspy sound of contentment, and suddenly he's under the water again. You gasp when he switches to this position, but you can't help but bring your hand up to cover your mouth when you realize what he's doing.

Rafayel is hesitant at first, kissing at the inside of your thigh with slow kisses, before finally coming to the space in between your legs. His tongue, firm and rough and lovely and so different from what you've felt before, licks across your cunt and tastes and kisses and Rafayel is groaning at how lovely you feel against his tongue and it's almost overwhelming if it weren't so goddamn gentle.

Gentle. Why is he always so damn gentle?

With a fist to your mouth, you move your other hand down to push Rafayel's face further on you, hoping he gets the hint to do more, go faster, harder, to give you so much more.

Rafayel licks against your clit, suckling softly and you shake with pleasure as you can't help but push him down, your hips moving up to meet the swipes of his tongue and the space of his mouth.

He licks you, savors you, and you feel the growing heat slowly reaching a tipping point. Your pleasure explores your body, and you feel it coming before you realize it.

You groan out a warning, but Rafayel just redoubles his efforts, his tongue somehow firmer against you as his movements quicken, and oh, you're suddenly pulling against his hair to stay as the feeling explodes, the energy racking through you everywhere. You're breathless by the end of it as Rafayel licks you through your orgasm, slowing down his ministrations so as to not overwhelm you while still providing the utmost pleasure he can.

Your hands slowly unclench, and Rafayel kisses the inside of your thigh again before coming up, gently lowering your legs so you can stand on your own within the water but keeping a helpful arm around your waist.

He looks at you, a question on his mind, and at your satisfied smile he sighs in happiness as if he was worried that the orgasm he just gave you was somehow terrible.

"More," you tell him.

Rafayel seems surprised at that.

You look down between you, and you realize that right under his stomach is a clear bulge poking out, previously hidden in between his scales but so obvious now.

"Can I?" you question, and realize almost instantly that you probably didn't need to ask but you smile anyway at his immediate permission.

Your hands grab at his dick, tracing the soft skin under the shaft, and you tug him in your hands. One of your hands moves up, and your thumb passes by the tip. Rafayel shudders, and you watch with a certain thrill at his reaction. You move your hand up and down, and feel him grow and harden even more, as if he wasn't already too big for you to handle before. You can't help the excitement within you as you shift, ready to take.

So Rafayel gives. He brings himself closer to you, angling his dick between your legs. At the first touch of your wetness, you both groan. You, because of anticipation of it being inside you already, and him because your wetness already feels like too much.

Finally, Rafayel dips himself inside you, caressing you where you need it the most.

But you want more, need more. So before he's done enjoying the feeling of his yearning finally reaching you, you push yourself down on his member.

He closes his eyes and stills, the pleasure of being inside of you almost too much.

In one fell swoop, you feel him slip fully inside you. The utter emotion that overcomes you feels like electricity. Rafayel groans, and suddenly he's moving, racking back and forth within you, flesh against delicious flesh.

He grunts in pleasure, and suddenly he's going harder, moving faster, pushing and pushing. His dick keeps nudging against that spot that feels so good, and he hears your little sounds when he does so he shifts and hits it more and more and again and again.

Suddenly, you feel a spreading heat within you, but this time it doesn't come from you. You realize that Rafayel is coming, his dick throbbing heat within you, but he only partially slows down. He almost moans, and you love his reaction. He finally slows down to a stop.

You both lower down to the water, letting him breathe. You realize distantly that since he wasn't in the water, he wasn't breathing while he was penetrating you. His orgasm must have come from the excitement of it all.

Your face is just above the water now, while Rafayel leans at an angle. He's still inside of you and you wonder why he hasn't removed himself from inside of you as he's softened somewhat.

But then he's moving again and you're both delighted. Rafayel smiles up to you, and you can't help the joy within you.

Rafayel keeps going, giving you an expression of his emotions towards you, towards the freedom you've given him, and you take it, love it, feel it fill you up, accepting him for who he is rather than for what destiny dictates.

Rafayel realizes then, that this is the first relationship he's had where someone likes him. Actually likes him, adores his touch, dedicates so much paint and ink to capture his aura on all sorts of canvases, likes him for the idea of him and likes him for who he is. And it feels good. Fuck, it feels so good to be liked.

So he pushes himself within you, a not-so-delicate expression of his emotions towards you, and he falls hard in love for you.

When he comes again inside you, he does moan this time, and you find the sound particularly hot. He slows down to a stop, and lowers his head to your shoulder, panting.

You wrap your arms around him, expecting him to be done. It takes a moment, but Rafayel begins moving again. You smile, the movement reinvigorating your own growing heat.

"Wait, I have an idea," you tell him.

Rafayel pauses, and only with a slightly disappointed expression does he let you get off his dick. His engorged member throbs once outside of you, its head red and piercing. You turn around, facing the outer wall of the pool, floating your backside in presentation. Your hands clench around the metal ring of the pool.

"Let's try this position," you say, almost giddy.

Rafayel wastes no time to get back inside of you. You feel him throb as he pushes in and out, back and forth. He can go harder in this position so he absolutely does.

You feel another orgasm coming and can't help but clench against his dick. Rafayel groans, the movement making him bust inside you again. He slows down to a stop, you feeling him pulsate and his feeling the edges of his consciousness through sheer pleasure. Then he's moving again. He keeps fucking you and the movement is exquisite.

He keeps going, and it feels good, so good, so fucking good. He fucks you hard now, dives in you like an animal, desperate for release. You grip against him, chasing your own release. He hits that perfect spot inside you and it makes you groan through the indulgence. Rafayel seems sensitive now, sensitive to the sight of you and the sounds you make, and it feels so good.

He fucks you, dipping himself inside you, feeling the dripping wetness encase his dick in a mutual pleasure that excites both of you to no end.

But there is an end, and you're both rapidly approaching it. Rafayel pushes himself against you in a particularly hard thrust and you come around him, practically quivering and shaking through the strength of your orgasm. Rafayels thrusts again and again and again until he's also coming, spilling more of himself within you, the endless pleasure dulling his senses as for a moment it feels like there's nothing in the world except for the two of you.

It feels good. So fucking good.

While cleaning out a closet, you manage to find an old polaroid camera. It was most likely your grandma's, but you couldn't find any pictures around.

Rafayel made a noise, calling for you.

You walk back to the pool, camera in hand.

"What is it, Raf?" you ask.

In the time he had come to your life, Rafayel had managed to sound out his name until you finally got it. It had been his greatest accomplishment with you, outside of your blossoming affection. It was proof that he would be able to speak to you in the future.

"This? It's a camera. Do you want to take some pictures?"

He points to your hands, curious at the item.

Rafayel stared blankly, trying to communicate through expression alone that he didn't understand.

Suddenly, you hold the camera up and there's a flashing light. Rafayel hisses, ducking within the confines of the pool to escape the awful brightness.

"Sorry!" you apologize, looking at him through the camera. "I should've warned you about the light. But look at this."

You take out the picture, and the image slowly forms into Rafayel's blank face.

Even without being prepared, Rafayel in whatever state is beautiful. You can't help but admire his features caught by the polaroid, his cute surprised look, the color of his eyes, his long purple hair, the defined muscle of his chest and stomach. It's a bit blurry due to him moving from the shock of the light, but if anything it gives the picture character.

Rafayel looks at the picture, surprised at the still image. He points at the mirror on the wall, and you shake your head.

"This is a picture. It's kinda like a memory. You take pictures when you want to remember something that happened."

Rafayel stares intently at the picture, waiting for it to change.

"It won't change," you can't help but laugh. "It's just a moment in time."

Rafayel nods, slowly understanding.

You move the camera away from both of you. "I'm gonna take another picture."

Rafayel is grateful for the warning. He still flinches, but is able to stay still long enough for a non-blurry photo this time.

After playing with the camera for a bit, you hand it over to Rafayel. "You gotta be careful it doesn't hit the water. It'll break the camera if it does."

Rafayel nods, understanding. He holds it up to his face, and after a bit of trial-and-error, he manages to take a picture.

He's spent the entire time he's been with you wishing he could talk, but never has the desperation hit its peak like now as he sits in quiet contemplation while taking pictures of you. He wishes he could communicate all his feelings, paint like you do, write poetry and dedicate all his devotion to you. But instead, all he can do is try to capture you, try to take your essence within a picture. It's not even half of half of how lovely you are, but he tries, hopes his feelings come through.

He lowers the camera, and all you see in his eyes is a love dedicated to your soul.

This time when he kisses you, it's soft. There is no urgency, just a quiet and gentle love. You know it won't last, but for a moment you let yourself believe it will.

You were sitting on a chair next to the pool drawing up new ideas for what to paint while Rafayel watched you.

You sometimes wrote down a myriad of words in a notebook, trying to figure out what secondary theme you could add to your work. Rafayel was very insistent, as best as he could anyway, that you tell him every word you wrote so that he too could understand you. But in that notebook was a word that you skipped over, and Rafayel was curious.

Carefully, he grabbed the pencil with his mouth, holding it in between his lips. It took him a bit, but he eventually got the leaden tip pointing at the word he wished to understand.

He looked up, his pretty eyes sparkling, water droplets clinging to his skin and scales, the pencil careful in his mouth.

You had looked at him for a moment, then looked at the page with worry etched into your brow. You purse your lips together, thinking, and the silence seemed to stretch for ages.

Rafayel didn't understand why you didn't call it love. He wished more than anything to hear the words I love you come out of your mouth, but something is stopping you.

“Love,” you said, finally. “Don't think anything of it,” you add quickly enough, then shut the notebook close. “It's just a theme.”

And yet, the more time you spend together, loving each other's bodies and loving each other's hearts, through pleasure and through simple companionship, the more convinced he is that it doesn't actually matter if you do say it. Perhaps what you have is stronger than words. Perhaps what you have is a feeling that deserves to be felt instead.

There's a lot of obstacles standing in between you two, he concludes. He's a merfolk, for one, and you're a human. There were already so many challenges involved in that. His voice had slowly gotten used to the air, but it still didn't manage to sound right outside of a few syllables. Communication had been so hard because of it, and Rafayel still wasn't used to holding a pen or pencil in between his fingers.

But despite that, it all felt like an obstacle that you two could get over. If only you two were willing to.

The other problem was Rafayel's status as a runaway prince. If he didn't go back it wouldn't matter, but he still couldn't help but be a bit homesick. Despite how lonely he felt within it, he missed the safety of it, the warmth of it. So he wanted to come back, he just didn't know how.

And then there was the ocean.

Its initial peace was running out. With each storm of increased severity, it became more and more of a reminder of the god that missed him. The danger of the storms had more than once caused you distress, as you stayed with Rafayel to make sure he's okay but secretly worried for your safety. And Rafayel knew this about you, knew that lately you had been stressed and trying to paint more and more to distract yourself from the thunder overhead, closed all the blinds so that the flashing lights of lightning didn't seize either of your fears.

Rafayel hates it, but he knows he has to go back. It wouldn't take long before the ocean took revenge.

He couldn't let you get hurt, refused it point-blank, but that meant leaving. It hurt like an unrequited love to leave without hearing you say you love him, but he was running out of time.

He seemed particular this time. He drew the ocean, and a stick figure that looked vaguely like himself. You simply smiled at his antics and went back to your own drawing.

One day, Rafayel had seemed pensive. Hoping you could understand him a bit better, you gave him his own pen and paper. It had been a month since he had first appeared for you, and his rough lines and squiggles had taken enough form to be somewhat legible.

Rafayel seemed frustrated. Then he got the idea of drawing the shape of the beach house, but within the ocean.

"The beach house is gonna flood?" you ask when he shows you his latest drawing, partially concerned and partially confused.

He shakes his head. Rafayel tries to mumble a single word, and you manage to understand it despite the raspy and hoarse voice outside of the water. "Home."

"Oh," you're too late to hide your sadness. "You're going home."

Rafayel nods, and it feels like you're waking up.

Rafayel comes back to the ocean. It is not a warm welcome.

It seemed that Rafayel had left long enough that his influence had waned, and though he was bright and happy, the water surrounding him remained depressing.

“You've abandoned us.”

“I was gone for a month,” Rafayel counters. “That's basically a vacation.”

“For a human,” the fish seemed offended, “Abandoned for a human.”

Rafayel tried to protest, but neither the fish nor the ocean nor himself were very convinced.

“_____ is just a human,” the fish surrounding him had said. “Cannot love you. Can never love you.”

Rafayel stopped himself from shooting a glare at them. “Does it matter? My love is enough,” he defends. “My love can be enough.”

The merfolk no longer wanted their little prince. He was no longer welcome.

The ocean was not convinced.

Exile, the word tasted putrid and rotten. All that love they had dedicated to him for decades, all gone after his absence.

The curse has been broken. This was what he wanted, was it not? To not be loved simply because the ocean dictated it. And yet, he couldn't help hating this. Hating finding out that his greatest fear was true. He really was alone, had been alone for his entire life. The love was never real, just like he had always known.

His grief was first and foremost anger.

But it didn't matter. The ocean that had once bestowed him with power had taken it back. When before his wrath, childish or otherwise, would be felt across the seas, now it is just another wave in the ocean.

It was clear now.

Rafayel had been abandoned. And Rafayel hated it, hated that such a selfish love controlled his entire life and when he found the curiosity to venture outside of it, the ocean had become vengeful against him.

The ocean was his first love, and what a cruel and conniving one it was.

The ocean decided to make a deal with the prince. If he never met the human again, you could live. But if he continued to visit you and you ever got too close to the water, the waves would drown you. The ocean found it a wonderful agreement.

Oh, how hard it is to love simply because destiny dictated it so.

Rafayel could get his powers back, could come back to his community with the merfolk, in Lemuria, could have the love that he had previously been given at the cost of his freedom. If only Rafayel could accept his fate and come back to his true lover's embrace.

Rafayel, of course, refused.

And Rafayel may have been a naive little prince, but he had grown more in the month he spent on the outskirts of the ocean than he had been inside of it.

He knew that the only way to win this impossible deal was to outsmart the ocean somehow.

“You wish a human could breathe underwater?” the witch had asked of him.

And so, he visited a witch.

Rafayel nodded. “It's the only way I can think of. The ocean can't drown a human if they could breathe it in.” And perhaps being a bit cheeky, he compliments his plan and says, “It's a perfect idea, isn't it?”

“Hmm.” The witch was deep in thought, opening up book after book and flipping through pages, searching for a way to accomplish Rafayel's request.

“It's impossible!” a red fish said, one of the witch's aides.

“Humans can't breathe underwater,” a blue fish added, the second of the witch's aides.

Rafayel's confidence wavered, but he remained sure that if anyone could help him, it would be the witch.

“Perhaps there is a way,” the witch says after a long pause.

Before she could continue, Rafayel exclaimed, “Yes, anything! Please, I can't let _____ die!”

The witch found this peculiar. “Hm? But you told me your dilemma, and there is a way, is there not? You could go back to the ocean's embrace.”

Rafayel seemed to shrink at the thought. “I can't go back knowing what real love feels like. The ocean treats me like a toy. I can't go back knowing that love is gentle when it is real.”

True to her word, the witch switched places with Rafayel's beloved.

The witch nodded in understanding. “Then I propose this. I wish to leave my life as a witch, but to do so my powers will have to go to another. If I can take the place of your beloved, I can leave this magic. If done right, _____ will be a witch. The ocean will not hurt your beloved then.”

This version of you was a witch. This version of you did not remember Rafayel.

“Cursed witch!” he yelled out, swimming rapidly in his anger and kicking a few books off a shelf in the witch's home.

“Hey, please be careful!” you yelled back, promptly shooing him away. “I don't know why you're so upset but don't make a mess of my home!”

Rafayel calmed down enough to grab your arm. “Your name!” he gulped in a breath, his anger receding. “What's your name?”

“_____,” you replied, confused.

“Okay,” Rafayel said, mostly to himself. “It's okay! We can just start again.”

You just stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

He told you everything. Told you that you were a human before and you love art, love painting and drawing and sketching and watercolors and all sorts of art that he didn't know even existed nor can they be possible in the water without enchanted materials. He tells you that he was your muse, that you loved drawing his details and outlining everything about him.

“My name- my name is Rafayel,” he says with a huge smile, trying to pretend that his previous outburst is nothing. “And you're _____.”

He tells you that you were in love, or at least, he thinks you were also in love with him. He tells you about the notebook and all the words and themes, and how secretive you had been over the word love. He tells you about how he'd thought it was because you were two different creatures and could not be together, but that he had figured it out.

He tells you about the ocean's ultimatum, about the cold welcome back, about how he lost his powers but he wanted love, true and real love, over power. How he had longed for it all his life, without really realizing it, and how he knew now that he could never live without it.

And you ask questions about your life, or at least what Rafayel knew about it. About who he thought you were, and about art. You did not seem that interested to know that you two had been in love.

“It's love!” Rafayel said with a cheery smile once he had finished catching you up as best he could. “You… You feel it, too. Right?”

You look at him, really look at him. At his handsome features, at his long hair, at his pretty scales, at his eyes. And you feel nothing.

You shake your head slowly. “I'm sorry, Rafayel. You seem great and all but, those aren't my memories. I don't feel anything for you. I'm sorry.”

His smile slowly dropped.

Love was gentle, he had thought to himself before. It was not meant to burn. It was not meant to hurt. Right?

Rafayel had left after you hadn’t accepted him. It left you feeling a bit annoyed. He seemed to care so much about that version of you but was so quick to leave when he realized that you no longer were that person. If it were you in such an absurd scenario, you would’ve kept trying. But maybe he realized how it looked from your perspective, having this stranger approach you and claim his undying love for you. Most anyone would be creeped out by it. At least he recognized that he needed a bit of distance to get his head straight.

Then what is this violent gnawing in his heart? What is this vicious pain in his chest?

Anyway, he was definitely the weirdest memory you had of the merfolk, but still. It was a bittersweet story he had spun. At the very least, it made for some good entertainment.

That was until you found a note, on enchanted paper that wouldn’t break underwater, and written with handwriting that you recognized as both your own and completely foreign. And in the note, the old witch told you everything.

You had most of the old witch’s memories but not all, and this… You couldn’t help but believe Rafayel just a bit with this in your hands.

It wasn’t just that though. There had been a picture with the note, and you saw yourself there, smiling at the camera. Had Rafayel taken this photo?

You had kept the photo in your journals. For some reason, it was hard to let it go. You were clearly human here, your skin no longer green but your features very much yours, and you recognized a genuine happiness in your expression. You don’t remember this happiness, but you couldn’t help but believe the photo. It was proof, evidence that there was a time when you had experienced true and unashamed happiness. There was this twinge of pain in your heart as you wished that you could re-experience it.

Regardless of what you used to be, you were happy there.

You missed it, with a quiet desperation that only grew with each passing day.

Perhaps you should have been more surprised than you were when he appeared again.

This life as a witch, with an endless power that means nothing except what it can do for other people’s selfish wants, it was not meant for you. So a part of you did hope, despite and despite and despite, that Rafayel was true.

It had been months, maybe years, when he came back. In that time, you had settled into your life as a witch. You had most of the old witch’s memories, with next to none of your life as a human, so it didn’t feel like much of anything that happened. You were just living your life. An unfulfilled one, where you spread magic to anyone but could make no use of it yourself, but a life nonetheless.

“I want to become a human,” he lied easily.

“Human?” you repeated.

“The ocean,” he started with, his gaze leaving you as he stared at the pile of journals in the corner. “It’s mad. I tricked it and it wants revenge. I think it wants to kill me.”

You didn’t really believe him, but you began preparations to make the potion anyway, pulling out a few journals to find the right recipe. “I’ll need your help with the hardest of ingredients.”

Rafayel would often hang around you as you made the potion. You quickly grew accustomed to him and his antics. He would often talk to you, about everything and nothing at all, ask a million questions and joke around constantly. He was a bit bratty, which should be expected of a spoiled prince, but he was charming without trying and made your days just a bit brighter. You couldn’t help it. You grew to quite like his company.

“It's a deal!” He brought his gaze back up to you and gave you a confident smile. “Just tell me what you need!”

And on the day you were finishing up mixing the potion, Rafayel had decided to bring his flute.

"Are all royals born talented?" you asked absent-mindedly while waiting for the potion to rise to a boil.

"We're taught the arts during our youths," Rafayel explains, "It is another way to communicate with those around me. I wish I had my flute when I first met you."

You nod, not realizing the severity of his words.

He handles the wooden instrument with the sort of trained grace that only a prince could have.

And so, Rafayel played the flute for you. 

He played it for you, a beautiful sound that extended across the ocean, across the seas, and down your cold heart. Its gentle music tells a tale of love and sorrow, of the present and an uncertain future. It is a certain breath of emotion, each note and each pause.

Rafayel had learned to play all the traditional Lemurian instruments since youth, but this was the first time his song had a true purpose. Its sweetness overwhelmed your senses, yet its sorrow tied it all together with a sour taste.

You both feel the melody overcome you.

You can't help the silent tears streaming down your face, the melancholy and bittersweet love within its tune… it means everything to you. 

Rafayel stopped when he noticed your tears. He moved his hand towards you but didn’t know how to comfort, how to help, when you two are practically strangers. “_____,” he said in a soft voice, deciding to put his hand on your shoulder with a gentle touch.

You curse at yourself for your feelings, murmur something that sounds like, “Hug me,” and so Rafayel does.

And for a moment, it feels like everything will be okay. For a moment, this version of you feels loved.

The potion bubbles.

You take a seashell from your corner of the sea and Rafayel takes you to the stormy surface. Once there, you turn the shell into a boat. Rafayel pushes the boat forward, and you guide him to a beach. Once you see the outline of the sand, you speak up.

The moment does not last.

“If you go eastward we’ll be closer to a city-”

“No, here is perfect,” Rafayel interrupts you. In the entire time you’ve known him as a witch, he has never once interrupted you, so it takes you by surprise. You just watch as he pushes you forward, pretty merfolk tail splashing up white seafoam, a line of the foam trailing off behind you as he swims. You watch as his long dark hair, unkempt from the effort, swishes behind him in purple waves that seem to sparkle under the moonlight.

You two meet the shore soon enough. He slows down, and it catches you out of your thoughts. If a witch can blush, then there is a slight heat peppered on your face.

Rafayel splays out on the edge of the water as you step out of the boat. You unscrew the bottle where you kept the potion and take out a shot glass from your pocket. He watches you as you pour an oozing amount of purple liquid into the glass, and you sit down next to him to pass it along.

“Here,” you say, the shot glass in your hand.

He smiles and nods, and without a second thought drinks it in. “Thank you,” he says after he swallows the syrup.

You had meant to warn him and make sure he was okay with what the potion would do to him, but it was too late now. So, you take back the shot glass back and pocket it, then look at the potion in your hand. Its sweet aroma envelops you, and you realize your mistake far too late to correct it. Rather than be scared, you feel an eerie peace within you. It's too late now.

“_____?” Rafayel says your name, confused.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you watch as his body slowly starts to dissipate.

“_____?! What’s happening?” he begs.

“You’ll be reborn,” you inform him. “You’ll be human, Rafayel.”

“Reborn?” he panics, frantic. “No, no, this isn’t what I wanted. It’s not what I wanted at all! I wanted to change, not to begin again!”

You take out a journal from the inside of your coat pocket and show him the recipe. A photo falls from the sleeve of the journal but neither you nor Rafayel notice. You cast a simple spell so that he can read it in his own language, and you watch as Rafayel’s eyes widen.

“This isn’t what I wanted!” he tells you, and you watch as he tries to move further into the ocean, back into his old lover's embrace through misguided desperation, trying to reach back into safety. But his skin is bubbling, the white foam forming on the edges of his skin. He can’t push himself up anymore.

You watch as he transforms. “I can’t undo the potion,” you say in a quiet voice. “I can slow its progress, but I can’t undo it. This is what you wished for, Rafayel.”

“Then I’ll find you,” he says, a ragged determination in his voice.

His tail has mostly disappeared by now. It looks more like his tail had been tucked into the sand's surface, but you know the truth. You cannot pretend otherwise now. And as you watch him, knowing that soon his fate will become yours as well, and your heart lurches forward in an aching pain. You wish that you could take away this pain, and with a terrible realization you realize you can't. You cannot use your powers for yourself, not unless he requests it first.

"Tell me to stop," you beg of him. "Your pain, I can stop it, just tell me to do it and-"

Rafayel just looks at you, his eyes unfocused. "No," he settles with. "I'll find you. I promise, I'll find you.

And it hurts, to see your beloved refuse you so.

You smile sadly. You look down at your legs and see the sand slowly climb up your skin, the feeling of millions of bits of glass piercing through your skin suddenly overwhelming you. The unpleasant heat inches forward on your fingers, your hands, your forearms. The pain is so great that it fills your eyes with searing tears. Then you look up, trying to blink the pain away, and see Rafayel move and try to fight the torture he’s put himself into as well. In his frantic despair, he hadn’t noticed that you were turning too.

“Okay.” It’s all you can say.

“I love you,” Rafayel confesses all of a sudden. “I never said it before- I couldn't- but I love you.”

He cries. Cries like you did at his song. Cries because he’s losing you again. Cries and cries.

You listen, as the siren’s song pierces the night sky with its wail, its sorrow enveloping you once again. You close your eyes, and feel.

And for some reason, you feel happy.

This version of you is loved. It isn't because of destiny or anything silly like that. You were simply given love and you gave it in turn.

This version of you does not remember. It does not need the memory of your old lover to feel loved.

And then, after your first day as a Deepspace hunter, you meet a painter named Rafayel that lives on a beach house. The name means nothing to you. His paintings are beautiful and some of them look vaguely like you but that can't be. You've never met him after all. Rafayel looks at you, recognition in his soft expression, and a sort of infatuation spreads through his heart.

You mean everything to him, and yet he means nothing to you.

But that's okay. You've both gone through a lot to get to this point, even if you don't know it anymore.

And he'll be here, once more to see you.

END