#Spot technically never makes an appearance but he's mentioned a lot

[ollypopwrites]

Bite Down

Rolan x F!Tav (she/her, AFAB) [** Tav's class is not mentioned. There's discussion of how she is not a tiefling, but no other hint to her race. Her appearance is also not discussed aside from some mentions of her being curvy/plus size/etc. There's not a lot of body diversity in the game, so I wanted to write a softer Tav. Other than that I tried to keep it as general as possible.]

Summary: Tav and Rolan seemed to always find their way into each other's beds, but it was never meant to be anything serious. When he finds out Tav lets her resident vampire feed from her, he realizes just how serious he would like it to be.

Rating: M (18+ MDNI)

Tags: Smut [PiV, f!receiving oral sex, biting, nipple play, marking, dirty talk, very light dom!rolan -- mostly feral!rolan who takes the lead, light blood play, light pain play, overstim] possessive behavior, jealous behavior, pining, and after care.

Word count: 4.5k

Notes: is it still pining if technically they've fucked already? not sure.

Read on Ao3

In some way it felt like being a teenager again, hiding away with Tav for a moment of privacy. She had told him she knew a spot, away from teasing siblings and tadpole connected companions. When she tilted her head conspiratorially and nodded to the Elfsong’s kitchens he had waited a few moments before meeting her back there. The cooks had said nothing when she grabbed him and dragged him to the cellar, and then into a secret room hidden behind some huge barrels of wine. 

It was filled with cobwebs and cages, along with a few racks of weapons. The only semblance of comfort was a small nest of bedrolls and blankets tucked away in one of the corners. 

“It’s not romantic but when I need a minute away from the camp it does just fine.”

“The rusted halberds certainly add… ambience,” he looked at her with a slightly bemused expression.

“There’s another less creepy hidden room I’d show you if it weren’t for,” she pulled a face, “the fact it’s currently filled with the corpses of a githyanki scouting party.”

Rolan blinked a few times at her, still finding himself at a loss at some of the things she said. Her life was a truly chaotic and absurd string of events. She shrugged, giving an adorably embarrassed half giggle and looked away from him. Pulling out a bottle of wine, she waved it enticingly at him before procuring some glasses and started pouring. 

This was the ritual, thus far. It had started at the party after she and her friends had saved the Grove, it had meant to be a single night tryst. He had the slightest hope he would find her in the city after they all made it, but he was under no delusions about what she was facing. Her entire life revolved around getting the mindflayer tadpole out of her head and his focus was getting to the apprenticeship at all costs. 

Then the Shadow Cursed lands happened. Where he was a real bastard, and she somehow forgave him. It was piss poor timing, to realize he was entirely enchanted with her in nthat place. At the time even just looking at her filled him with complete rage and shame. He blamed her, but mostly himself, and he wanted to bare his teeth and gnash and growl because it was better than giving into despair. He wanted her comfort, but he didn’t deserve it, and he hated himself for not being able to do it on his own. Yet there she was, bright and sweet and always so willing to help. Even worse, she always managed to succeed despite the odds making him feel so inadequate. 

It brought out a insecurity driven hostility that he was not at all proud of. He hoped by the time she saw him again he would be on his way to being a properly trained wizard and just altogether less of an ass. Someone worth knowing. 

After Lorrokan he’d felt raw and foolish and disenchanted. He was happy to be free of him but he was such a mess of mixed emotions. He needed some time before facing his siblings, who he had all but ignored besides sending money and short letters. If Lia ever found out what Lorrokan had been doing she would have done something stupid and Cal would have joined her, so he'd kept them away. Facing them and explaining what had been going on felt like such a heavy task. 

Tav hadn't judged. She had even. gone out of her way to further humiliate Lorroakan by making his corpse admit what she seemed to already have known: Rolan was more powerful than he ever was. When her companions took their leave, she had stayed behind and tried to distract him by suggesting they raid what had to be an incredibly expensive wine collection. It ended with her in his bed, a quiet gentle night where he buried his face in the crook of her neck afterward and she just held him. Vulnerability he had scarcely even exposed to his brother and sister came so easy for him with Tav. 

After that he had hidden away with his siblings to figure out just what the hell to do as the master of a tower. It wasn’t until she had turned up at Sorcerous Sundries a few days  later that he had gotten the courage to ask her if she was interested in having a glass of wine with him again. 

Drinking wine and talking always led to her kissing him. She always made the first move to lean in close and wait a beat for him to either allow it to happen or reject her advances. He was always keen, and never even tried to hide it. He had thought her beautiful from the moment she butted into his argument with Lia in the Grove, despite being annoyed at her intrusion. Even when he was determined to hate her his mind had turned to the softness of her while he pulled at his cock in fleeting moments of alone time at the Last Light Inn. 

As usual, her touch made Rolan suck in a sharp breath when her hand came to his cheek and gently caressed over a still healing bruise left over from Lorroakan. She always was so gentle, and generous with her touch, making him crumble and forget his pride in an instant. He cared about her a concerning amount, despite the shortness of their acquaintance, and he was always painfully obvious about it whenever she broke the fragile wall of his demeanor. He softened so easily for her. 

Her lips, just as plush and soft as he remembered, parted as tongues began to move against one another. Hers searched, tickling over his own lips and trailing over sharp teeth. It felt like the world stopped for a little bit, as they leisurely kissed  in a hidden back room, the quiet stillness making each excited breath and soft sound of enjoyment plain to hear. His tail curled around her, loose and leisurely. 

Rolan ducked his head, going to press his lips against her neck. His mouth met with a slightly rough scabbed hole. It was not unusual for her to have left over bumps or bruises from whatever fight she found herself in. The pair of puncture wounds on her throat, however, were perfectly spaced apart for it to have come from another person’s mouth. 

“What is this?” He asked, his fingers coming up to trace the wounds. 

“Hm?”

“Something bit you,” he said, his tail beginning to flick in short angry patterns. “Some one .”

Had she been with another tiefling recently? Perhaps Karlach or maybe even Wyll, who was a devil, but the distinction hardly mattered in this instance. These were bite marks from someone with sharp teeth; it could have been either one of them. The nasty flame of jealousy sparked his already quick temper, and he scowled as he looked at the pair of punctures on her skin. 

“Oh,” she said, “yes, Astarion needed to feed before we got into the city. There was nothing he could hunt in the Shadowcursed Lands.”

“You feed him your blood?”

“He’s a vampire, it’s all he can really get sustenance from.”

“I know that,” he said, shortly, “but I didn’t think you let him drink from you.”

“Normally he doesn’t,” she raised her eyebrows. “He usually picks off whoever is trying to kill us that day. But as I said, he’d been low on options until we got here.”

If Rolan were feeling more reasonable he could listen to the logic of it. She was their leader, she took the responsibility very seriously: if one of them needed something she was going to provide it. And the Shadowcursed lands had been entirely inhospitable to life, there was honestly almost nothing for Astarion to feed off of. 

“Rolan?” She asked after a few moments of his angry silence.

“Do you sleep with him?”

“What?” She pulled back to look at him in slight shock and disbelief. "No.” 

She didn't say as much, but he reminded himself that it wasn’t really any of his business even if she did. There was no agreement of exclusivity between them. No discussion of intentions or anything of the sort. They’d had sex at a party and then once again his first night in ownership of the tower. It didn’t matter that he thought of only her when he pleasured himself, or that he had spent hard nights after Lorrokan’s beatings imagining she would walk through his door with an easy smile. She wasn’t his but he couldn’t deny the needling reality that over the past few weeks he had started to consider himself hers. 

“Do you like it?”

Tav looked at him quizzically. “Being drained of blood isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

“But the biting?”

The hard truth was he could hardly blame Astarion, vampire or not. Tav was soft in shape and feel, she was strong of course, but at least in appearances her skin was plush and delicate. Rolan had only ever slept with tieflings before, and while their infernally ridged skin was not rough to the touch it was just naturally a bit more durable. They had to be with their sharp nails and teeth, he'd never had to worry about if he was being too rough. That first night with Tav he had been shocked and intrigued by the easy way scratches raised on her skin and how her flesh was indented by his teeth. He’d be lying if he hadn’t thought about biting into her again and again, just to feel what it was like.

Tav’s breath hitched, and her defensiveness had melted into uncertain embarrassment. “I - I suppose I would? If it weren’t for the bloodlessness —“

Rolan leaned in to kiss her again, messy and possessive, tail wrapping around her wrist. His body pushed hers back a bit onto the bedroll, and when he pulled his lips away his teeth latched onto her bottom lip. The gasp she gave made it slip from him, and she got shoved entirely onto her back as he went for her throat. Tail and one hand pinning her wrists to the ground, his other tilted her chin up and aside. The column of flesh was almost entirely unmarked, save for Astarion’s work. He opened his mouth wide enough to clamp down and each of his sharp canines dug in. Beneath him, he felt her body tense up at the sudden sensation. 

But she moaned. And he heard a rumbling groan leave his throat that sounded alarmingly like a growl. 

His mouth sought after more untouched skin. Tav kept making soft, helpless little noises that spurred him on, it felt so good to have her flesh between his teeth. When he looked down at her she was a bit of a mess, covered in new love bites, parted lips swollen and her eyes lidded as she looked up at him. 

Adorable , he thought to himself. 

Besides being so beautiful and powerful and capable he couldn’t help but think about how cute she was. Sweet despite the trail of bodies in her wake, and always giggling and smiling — tits and ass bouncing with every step she took. So cute, in fact, he couldn't help but keep squeezing and biting. At the juncture of her shoulder and neck, he dug in harder than he intended to — Tav hissed in pain. The slightest hint of iron bloomed on his tongue. He pulled back, seeing he had broken skin. It was much smaller than the vampire’s bites, more like pinpricks in her skin beneath the discoloration of a bruise. 

“I’m sorry —“ he breathed. 

“S’okay,” she shook her head. 

“Do you like it?”

She licked her lips. A brief flash of bashfulness ran over her face; she chewed on the inside of her lip before she nodded a little. “Yes,” she said meekly. 

“Me too.”

“I can tell,” her hand pulled out of his tail’s hold, coming up to the tented fabric of his robes over his crotch. 

He grunted. “Y-yeah.” He swallowed, grasping onto the remaining capability of thought, “if it’s too much —  we can stop, we don’t need to —“

“I trust you,” her smile was genuine, just slightly hazy, but her eyes sparkled with affection. He was mesmerized. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” he answered too quickly, and too earnestly. Were there more blood for him to spare between his cock and his already heated body he may have blushed.

“I’ll tell you if I need to stop.” 

“Good.” He kissed her. 

Clothes were clumsily pulled off, until they were both all but naked in the lowlight of the candelabras in the room. With her bare before him, he kept biting every bit of skin he could get to, ignoring her attempt to reach down and stroke his cock. He felt an unignorable need to keep marking her, to clench his teeth around her beautifully adorable body. He was being incredibly greedy, wanting to make sure that anyone who saw her knew that he had been there. 

Taking the weight of her breasts in his hands he pressed them together, ducking his mouth to one nipple and swirling his tongue around it. She gasped, hands gripping into his hair. Her nails were hard enough that he felt the scratch of them on his scalp, but not nearly painful. The feeling had a shiver starting from the base of his tail up to the top of his head. 

“Gods above, Rolan,” she murmured. 

His thumbs took over in teasing the rigid peaks, as he moved his mouth onto the impossibly squishy and generous swell of her breasts. Sucking and biting until he was satisfied with the discoloration before he moved onto the same spot of the other. His knee came between her thighs, and she ground her cunt against it the moment she felt it there. Wet and somehow warm enough for him to tell she was burning for him despite his infernal blood keeping him always a fair bit warmer than her. His teeth wrapped around a nipple, extremely careful but she faltered in her breathing and tensed up in anticipation. 

But he just ran his tongue over the tip until she whined, letting it go easily when she bucked her hips against his thigh. 

“I want to taste you,” he said. 

Tav laughed a little, “as if you haven’t been trying to eat me alive already.” 

“Shall I stop?”

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“It sounded like you were complaining,” he grumbled. 

“You would know all about that,” she teased. “It’s one of your specialit — ah!”

Rolan repaid the teasing with another harsh bite on the side of her neck. Her fingers tugged at his hair, and he bit down harder. His fingers tweaked her nipples, his thigh pressed against her cunt, and she twitched a little before going limp. Tav whined and clenched her eyes shut against the sensations. 

It was a strangely satisfying show of submission. He felt his cock drip precum, his tongue dancing over the dent in the shape of his teeth in her skin.

“Let me taste you,” he said again. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” she breathed in response, frantically. 

Rolan dragged his canines along the softness of her tummy, liking the small scratches they made in their wake. When he was finally between her thighs, he groaned into the skin. As was his desire, he started nibbling into the skin there too. Her fingers still tugged at his hair, scratching his scalp and making him groan in pleasure. When he licked along the lush seam of her cunt he shuddered, her needy little whine and the taste making him feel dizzy. The vampire may have tasted her blood, but now so had he. The privilege of knowing what her arousal tasted like on his tongue was something he was sure none of her companions could claim. 

He got to hear the way she keened as he found the way to make her hips nearly buck him off of her, and the needy noise she made when he shoved them back down. There was no force in Faerûn that could pull him away from pushing down her hips and devouring her. In his haste and mindless goal to simply claim and consume, it took him longer than he would have liked to admit to keep track of what had her gasping for more. But once he did he didn't stop until her legs tried to close in on him, and even then he let himself be squished between the strength of them. Her high pitched moan echoed off of the ceiling, reverberating through his skull in a blissful ring, his eyes nearly rolling back. Soft skin bracketing his face, the smell and taste of her invading his senses all the while her moans tickling his brain made his hips grind down into the blankets beneath him. He felt her pulsing against his tongue, and dipped it into her hole greedily tasting the rush of wetness that followed after. 

“By Ao, you —“ she cut herself off with a hiss as his mouth latched onto her clit again, “fuck!”

No God’s name would do coming from her lips, only his name, only pleads for more, for him. She was sensitive, and it was plainly obvious by the way she devolved into helpless sounds as her hips ground against him. This was what he wanted, to have her entire world fall away to nothing except him between her legs, her unfettered attention as he made her feel so blissful she forgot how to speak.

He got carried away, not keeping track of how many times she came on his tongue until finally she yelped and grabbed his horns. When she tugged him away from her he admired his victory — she was a wreck of love bites, kiss swollen lips open as she gasped for breath, and eyes swimming with unspilled tears. Rolan felt her wetness on his lips and chin against the cool air of the cellar, tongue swiping over his lips for another taste of her. 

“Too much,” she gasped. 

A darker voice in him wanted to tell her it would be too much when he said so, but he was still himself despite whatever had come over him. Perhaps one day they could experiment, perhaps one day they could do this right and he could see how far he could really take her. He could make those tears spill over, making her come over and over until she was incapable of speech let alone thoughts. A shudder ran down his spine, tail lifting excitedly at the idea. 

But this was a spur of the moment tryst underneath the Elfsong, and he wasn’t going to stop everything now to negotiate limits and safewords and the like. 

“Do you,” he breathed, lifting himself up to get away from the temptation of her so close to his mouth, “do you want to stop?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I want you to fuck me.”

His so far ignored cock bobbed between his legs, and he closed his eyes as he moaned at the words. With haste he brought himself onto his knees, grabbing her thighs and tugging her half into his lap. Nestling between her thighs, he watched as he slotted himself against her, rubbing through the wetness and nearly choking on the air he was breathing. Her hand came between them, grabbing his cock from where he unthinkingly kept rubbing it against the silky wetness, and pressed it to her entrance. 

Rolan went rigid. Tav gave a little smile. His hips pushed forward, savoring the slow penetration as she surrounded him. He waited, enjoying the soft squeeze of her, and gasped when her hand came to his cheek. The unspoken hung in the air, she had him, he was safe, he was doing good -- he was perfect the way he was cupped in her palm like this. He opened his eyes, meeting hers and very nearly confessed an undying love he was unsure he was aware of before. 

There was some unknown magic in Tav that seemed to bring down the walls of almost everyone she met. He fancied himself a logical, and practical, man. He’d known this woman for mere weeks, a very short time in the grand scheme of his life, and yet it felt like he could tell her anything, and be his worst and still get that sweet smile from her. In fact, he had been the worst version of himself and she had shown him patience and compassion anyway. 

He knew he liked her, otherwise why would he be in this creepy hidden back room rutting like a beast on a makeshift bed, but love? 

Despite the constricting bliss of her cunt around him, sharp reality bled into his mind. He told himself he would properly court her once she was free of her tadpole. Then he could entertain the idea of love. Until that day came, he had a tower and unending resources of a magic nature to keep her safe, and the privilege of being the one she turned to for a reprieve from the horrors of her new fate. Which, he admitted, also granted him the pleasure of being able to bury his cock in her. 

“Alright?” She asked him, thumb trailing over his lips before she moved her hand to rub at the center of his brows which where furrowed. 

Rolan felt his throat tighten. She was so incredibly gentle with him sometimes he had no clue how to properly react to it. He just nodded. 

He needed to get out of his head, he needed to get back to the warm wetness he was currently feeling. Sliding his hips back and then thrusting forward, her hands fell to his forearms and her body laid back against the bedroll again. The skin of her hips dimpled under his grip, and he tightened his hold. It was a sinfully delicious feeling to slide against her walls, and he felt every other thought start to slip away again. His eyes danced over her body, now riddled with his own marks, but when he caught the vampire’s bite his jaw clenched, remembering where this all started. 

Perhaps he shouldn’t wait until the present danger was cleared. Perhaps he should just go against his usual self-preservation and simply tell her he wanted her to be his, only his. A harsher thrust had her tits bouncing with the force of it and kept going at the same intensity to watch it happen over and over again. 

“Gods, Rolan,” she moaned. “You feel so good.”

His jaw went slack at the praise, spurring him on to keep going. When her hips met his, rolling to meet each thrust, the slap of skin on skin started to fill the room loudly. One hand reached for her breast, fingers dancing over the bite mark he had left. 

“Will you let your cleric heal these away?” He asked breathlessly. 

Tav gulped, her hand coming over his on her breast. “I don’t want to. Do you want me to?”

Stupid question , he thought, and maybe said aloud given the way she laughed. It was hard to think now that he was thrusting in and out of her. He covered her body with his, arms wrapping around her so her own were pressed to her side. All she could do was grab at his arms, holding on as his weight pushed her legs further apart and pressed him deeper into her. 

“No,” he said, biting down on her shoulder hard enough that she yelped in pain. “I want you to go back to camp, hardly able to walk,” he said between making another bruise. “Covered in my marks — fuck, I want them to know I nearly had you in tears fucking you with my tongue.”

Gods, that was vulgar — he nearly apologized until Tav let out a gasp of his name, her cunt clenching around him. His mind went fuzzy again. There was no need to be proud and dignified for her, he could just say what he was thinking, even the deepest filthiest thoughts that came to his mind while he fucked her. 

“I’ll send you back with my cum, dripping out of you —“ he gasped. 

Tav’s back arched, her eyes rolling back a little as she came, surprising them both with the suddenness of it. Rolan was losing his rhythm, body pulsing with a need for release. No more words came to mind, just the ringing sound of her voice chanting his name and her walls fluttering around him. It was a chain reaction, as he suddenly felt the tension snap and came, whining as he did, desperately thrusting into her heat as his vision whited out. 

When he went limp against her, he took a couple breaths, the haze of the possessive flames in him subsiding. He had proved himself, he had her exactly as he wanted, and she had eagerly let him. Rolan lifted his head to kiss her. Softly, wordlessly gentle, only pulling away to press their foreheads together. The desire to say something, to tell her just how much she meant to him, but self-preservation was back in full force. The words wouldn't unstick from his throat. He helped clean her up, kissed softly at some of the harsher marks. He wanted to murmur words of encouragement and care as they curled up together, but he couldn't trust himself to not say too much. Rolan's arms, legs and tail wrapped around her as he breathed in the quiet of the afterglow. At the very least, he could trust his body to communicate what he was too afraid to say. 

“Rolan,” she said gently. 

“Hm?”

“I —“ she started shyly. “I don’t want — I haven’t been with anyone else, not since… “ she chewed on her lip, trying to decide what to say but coming up short. “I’m trying to say, I’m not interested in anyone at camp. Or, anywhere else, actually.”

Rolan’s tail wrapped around her leg, and he finally felt himself start to blush a deep crimson. “Good.”

Really? That’s all he had to say? He’d just told her more filthy things than he’d thought he’d ever said in his life but all he could come up with was ‘good' when she told him exactly what he had been wanting to hear. He cleared his throat, steeling himself to not fuck this up before it ever had a beginning. 

“You’re incredibly busy, what with the tadpoles and the cultists and all of the characters you run around with, but,”  he started, “perhaps when all of that is over we could… begin a courtship.” 

“Doesn’t courting come before sex? Bit out of order, don’t you think?” She smiled. 

“You deserve a real courtship,” he said seriously. “I owe you that, at least.”

“You owe me nothing,” she kissed him. 

“You’ve changed my life in unimaginable ways. Are you this altruistic with everyone?” 

“Don’t know if I should answer that,” she bit her lip to stop a smile, “I’ve learned you have a jealous streak about you. I’ve got dozens of bite marks to show for it.”

“Yes,” he grinned, “you do.”

Thank you for reading!

[ghouldtime]

Fun fact, I’m terrified of mimics, like terrified. I watched a show called haunted on Netflix and the first episode of season two was about a mimic and I’ve been scared of them ever since. Ok now that that’s out of the way, please I need more of mimic!Gaz if that’s ok? I feel like he’d be the only one that doesn’t make me wanna run far far away

I can't blame you. Mimics can be anywhere, anything, at anytime. They can take the place of someone you know in the blink of an eye, they can take the spot of your favorite pillow you swore you lost two days ago - that's what makes them so scary. THAT is what's scary, you never know what you're truly going up against

Also please note that my idea of a mimic may vary from others! Usually, I see them as something that can mimic their surroundings. Whether that be voices, people, or things to blend in

Some more about mimic! Gaz

Just because he's a monster doesn't mean he's a monster

Though he may be a mimic and may, by definition, be a monster - he's still retaining his humanity. He still has a set of morals, he still has his own aspirations, hopes, and dreams

He is, however, still very much a monster. A monster who can and does eat people. But that's not indiscriminately

Truth be told, though his kind is known for the whole 'eating people' deal, he's not a huge fan of it. He'd rather not do it because then he'll be questioning himself and where he stands

Doesn't mean he can't or won't. Being a mimic means he's effective at it, it's a great way to get rid of evidence and to take out anyone against him. He'd just rather reserve it to those occasions

He's still very much the Gaz we love! Even if his default form doesn't look close, the appearance we know him as is what he prefers. It's how he sees himself in his mind's eye after observing humanity for so many years, so it's how he presents

He feels the traits he chose represent him best after seeing them displayed on many people throughout the years and it really is how he feels. He combined them into an appearance he liked. He usually maintains and keeps himself in that form, he'll only shift back to the default state if truly injured or extremely sick. Otherwise, he's mainly looking like his normal, handsome self

(Technically, he's an 'original' being in his human form since everything about him was taken and melded into who he is from those who already existed before him who he interacted with)

The main thing you'll notice on him that may set off some alarm bells would be his canines. Those things are SHARP. But other than that and a few weird slightly not-normal habits (like seemingly not needing nearly as much rest as a healthy human should and being able to easily eat bones), he seems to be a stand up guy

He mainly takes the form of a human because humanity has interested him ever since he came into this world. Though he doesn't understand the full range of emotions, comprehending them and the world as a whole from their point of view was so incredibly fascinating

Not to mention, the human world itself is incredible too! He wanted to be apart of that, and not just in the background or hiding in the shadows

He understands why his kind aren't exactly liked and are feared, but in this day and age, it's significantly less of an issue for him since humans have mostly moved on past their fear of monsters and are so easily distracted with technology

He can mainly use his form to his advantage now, allowing him to easily blend in and out of the background as he pleases. It allows him to get into many private places (such as lecture halls) and into areas he otherwise never would consider or be able to access

He's a curious guy, he likes to learn. He still has a lot to know, even after all these years, but he isn't there to just eat people or betray your trust. He's not simple minded

He's just another being with his own thoughts, emotions, feelings, and past! He tries not to let his nature define him, even if it can distinguish him from being a human alone

You'd probably never know he's a mimic but if you're one of the few who expressed you really didn't care, you just like him for him, he'll be happy to change around you

At least it can make for great photo ops and is incredibly convenient for nearly any scenario you can think of

Seriously, be his pal, he's still just a guy! Just in a different body with a little bit of a different mindset :D

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - A Day With Alastor

A/N – Well, it took a while but I finally felt up to writing a bit. There’s still a lot of sadness at home right now, but I’ll try to keep writing.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

TAG LIST: @lxkeee @moonieper @sle3pyh3ad2 @gomib0 @mixplara @ica1 @loser-monologue @blackbeautyiloveyouso @equkki @literalzxmbie

FEMALE VERSION HERE

GN / NB VERSION HERE

You woke up in Angel’s bed. The previous night, you two had laughed, danced, ordered pizza and stayed tucked away in the safe haven of his bedroom. In that time, Angel had been reminded of how much his life had improved recently, and how precious his new friends were, and you had allowed yourself to relax, once again reverting to your previous human appearance. Yet, after revealing how you had died twice in a night, the change to look human felt more like a choice rather than the repression of painful emotions; you still had no love for your Demonic appearance, but you felt it wouldn’t be so terrible if it was seen among friends, or if you wanted a break from the low thrum of energy it took to keep your human façade in place.

You groaned tiredly as you pushed yourself up, never having been a morning person, and upon looking through the slats of the shaded window, you saw that it was very early indeed.

Angel had already left, and you made a mental note to call him in the evening when you knew he would be done with work. Despite the fun respite the two of you had shared, Angel would undoubtedly have a terrible day as Valentino’s plaything.

Stretching, you got up and headed downstairs for breakfast, surprised when you didn’t see anyone at the breakfast bar. Technically, the breakfast bar was just the regular bar, but since Husk typically spent his mornings sleeping in, everyone had adopted it as the breakfast bar and so there were always boxes of cereal on it until noon.

Thinking about it, you realised that since Charlie and Vaggie weren’t there to greet you, Angel Dust had likely talked them through the previous night and reassured them that everything was going to be okay. It had undoubtedly been a tearful reunion for Charlie. Angel Dust would have laughed and played it off like it was nothing, though he would have secretly been touched that Charlie cared enough to cry over someone like him, and Vaggie would have been left to care for Charlie and steer her in the direction of her daily duties.

Absently, you reached for a box and began pouring yourself a bowl of Glutton-O’s. There was a thunk in the bowl as a dead cockroach pinned to a cheap ring of plastic fell into it. You hummed at Nifty’s idea of a breakfast prize, though you didn’t scoff at it. Instead, you opted to wear it, just in case the psychotic little maid was around. If she was, you would make her happy, and if she wasn’t, you could always throw it away when you were far from the Hotel.

Despite claiming the prize, you opted not to eat the tainted cereal, getting up to leave instead.

“Ah, (Y/N), good morning,” Alastor greeted you energetically as if he had only just spotted you when in reality he had been waiting patiently for you to awaken and head downstairs.

“Morning Alastor,” You replied warmly, used to his sudden appearances.

“I didn’t know you were back in our wonderful home. Tell me, was it trouble in Paradise with Lucifer?” His head lurched to the side and his grin became more malicious as he mentioned his rival’s name, though he was back to his default expression a moment later when you replied.

“Christ on a stick, Al. You make it sound like we’re a couple or something.” You shook your head, chuckling, “No, everything’s fine between me and Charlie’s dad. I just came over to visit last night. I’ll be going soon though.”

“Going? Oh my. Well, I can’t let you go without first ensuring you’ve had an enchanting day out. How would you feel about joining me on my morning constitutional?”

You smiled and got up, straightening your crumpled clothes. “Sure, I could do with a walk.”

“Wonderful!” Alastor stamped his cane to the floor, and your outfit transformed into one more fitting for a trip to Cannibal Town.

“Oh,” You hummed, glancing down at the new outfit. You weren’t offended; Alastor liked his travelling companions to look their best and to be honest, you had needed a fresh change of clothes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my dear,” He replied brightly.

Then, Alastor offered you his arm, a rare gesture seeing as he didn’t liked to be touched, and after escorting you out of the hotel, the two of you separated, walking side by side.

You had been to Cannibal Town only twice in the past. The first time was because that was where you arrived upon your death. The second time, you were running from the carnage caused by some loan sharks wherein you had been caught in the crossfire. At the time, you had been dressed so poorly that the inhabitants of the elegant town had chased you to the border, trying to take a bite out of you.

Since then, you hadn’t been back. However, seeing as Alastor was escorting you and since you were now dressed to match the high standards Cannibal Town held, you felt safe in going there.

All those who passed by you and Alastor stopped to bow or tip their hats in due reverence to the Overlord.

“So…” You started, “Is this your territory?”

Alastor threw back his head and laughed, “Ha-ha-ha, my territory? No, no. This wonderful patch of Hell belongs to my good friend, Rosie. Now there’s a fine Lady, if you’ve ever met one.” He hummed happily, “Indeed, they don’t make them like her anymore. I’d introduce the two of you, but I have it on good authority that she is currently away attending business.”

With that, Alastor led you to some of the finer boutiques of the Town. He snapped his fingers and the attendees rushed to his side, crowding him, and pushing you out somewhat. You shrugged your shoulders and began looking around at the many wonderful clothes surrounding you.

You had seen old films wherein boutiques like this once existed, with attendants and fine boxes tied with perfectly curled ribbons. Until now, they had seemed to be a thing of the past, but one good thing about Hell was that the past was all around you, and should you want a taste of something more modern, you could always catch up with a bit of Vox-tech, ensuring the best of both worlds.

You heard the sharp static screech that meant Alastor was offended and turned to find him gesturing at you.

The salespeople who previously crowded him were suddenly surrounding you.

“Alastor, what’s going on?” You asked uncertainly.

“Well, my darling,” He grinned devilishly, “Call this my treat. It’s rare that I have someone travel with me so willingly and I do find it ever so nice to have a passion project these days. So, these fine people are ready to bow to your every whim. Clothes, pearls, a bottle of the finest Champagne, you name it and they will bring it to you. In fact-” Alastor clapped his hands lightly and suddenly a tiny imp rushed to his side, struggling under the weight of the ice bucket he held above his head.

Alastor waited as another hired imp hurried over to pour two flutes of Brut Imperial Moet & Chandon Champagne, handing one glass to Alastor and forcing the other into your hand.

Alastor took a sip and smacked his lips together, eliciting a satisfied sigh, “Ah, 1911, a fine vintage. So, a new wardrobe then?”

“Oh, Alastor, I- I couldn’t,” You said sheepishly as a Cannibal Tailor began taking your measurements, holding a tape measure against your leg.

You tried to walk back to Alastor but were restrained when the tailor hooked the tape around your waist.

“Nonsense, I insist.” Alastor chuckled.

“No, really. I didn’t come here to get anything from you.”

“Exactly! You don’t want anything from me, and that’s precisely why you shall have everything. I do ever so enjoy gifting my friends, especially those humble enough to try and deny me my eccentricities.”

You tried to argue further, but it quickly became an exercise in futility. No matter what happened, you would not be able to convince Alastor to change his mind. So, you gave in, and in doing so, you ended up having one of the best days of your afterlife.

That day, you felt like you were a part of a movie montage. You were rushed about into changing rooms to try on several outfits tailored to you, your face was peppered with makeup, attendants were constantly by your side, gushing over you and offering mimosas or whatever else your heart desired (though, you avoided the finger sandwiches filled with actual human fingers, or any other food, seeing as you were afraid of what might be in it.)

Overall, you knew that this kind of attention would be too much if you were constantly plied with it, but for a short while, it was fun, and you were happy to let yourself be spoiled.

Finally, Alastor decided he had given you enough and offered to take you out for afternoon tea, which you happily agreed to as long as there were some non-cannibal options.

Alastor rested a hand over his heart as if offended, “Oh, you non-cannibals don’t know the kind of flavours you are missing, but if you insist, I promise to take you to one of the tamer venues in town.”

He waved the attendants away, leaving your new belongings to a Demon who would have them transported directly into your room.

When the two of you sat down outside of the Insani-Tea tea house that overlooked the pavilion in the central plaza, Alastor sighed contentedly. He picked up his cup and swirled it around airily, taking a look at the scenery as he changed the topic from the previous ones about the hotel, “This has been quite a lovely day if I do say so myself.”

You smiled happily, resting your hands around your tea cup and relishing the gentle warmth, “It has. Thank you, Alastor. I needed a nice day like this.”

“Hm? So, life with our all-powerful Satan hasn’t been all you imagined.”

You chuckled as Alastor caught your eye, “Well, it was all Charlie’s idea, and you know what she’s like when she gets a thought into her head.”

“Indeed. A very determined young lady.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“You’re not happy, then?”

You took a moment to contemplate the question, “Honestly? I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in a very long time. It’s… hard sometimes to be in such a new place when I felt so at home in the hotel, but I think that Charlie might be on the right track when it comes to Lucifer.

Granted, her methods are… Well, she’s a real ballbuster when it comes to her ideals on friendship and the like, but I think that if her father could see what she’s trying to do and make a connection with people like us then he would see that Hell isn’t just one big punishment and that he and his family did manage to build something sort of good here.”

At the mention of Sinners as a Collective, Alastor’s grin became darker and more sinister in nature, as if he didn’t approve of your placement of him and the other Sinners on the same level, though, distracted as you were, you missed his disapproval and sense of superiority. He however didn’t miss the way your smile softened when you mentioned Lucifer’s success.

It wasn’t love. Of that, Alastor was certain, but if he nudged you in the right direction, you could probably fall for that blonde idiot, and if that happened, and if Lucifer somehow also found feelings for you, Alastor could use you to manipulate Lucifer.

Like all of Alastor’s plans, this would take time and a lot of work, but the reward would be great. With time, he would be the new ruler of Hell, and that was a day he sorely looked forward to.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that our darling Charlie was right in her hunch,” He said genially. “You should continue to work with Lucifer. I’m sure it would be beneficial for everyone.”

 “We’ll see,” You agreed, taking a sip of your tea.

Lucifer paced back and forth in the Pride Parlor where you usually spent your afternoons. Where were you? You had been missing all day.

He folded his arms tightly against his chest as he paced. Had he upset you the night before? What was he thinking? Of course he had! You had told him how you died, and now… Now, what? Had you run away? Should he call Charlie?

Lucifer didn’t know what to do. He didn’t own you, and while you had claimed him as your friend, he had never reciprocated in kind.

The sound of the door opening caught Lucifer’s attention and he looked up hopefully, but it was only Spick closely followed by Span, each of the snakes holding feather dusters and getting to work cleaning the room. Lucifer watched as Span dusted the fireplace mantle, his eyes travelling upward to a portrait of him and Lilith together; it was one of the earlier pieces he had commissioned from an awful Sinner, Salvador Dali; the artist’s punishment for selling his soul to an Overlord had been that whenever he was commissioned, he wasn’t allowed to paint his beloved surrealism art and could instead only paint portraits.

In the painting, Lucifer was staring intently at Lilith, admiring her for everything she was or ever would be since her potential was limitless to him. She however was looking straight ahead, a demure smile upon her face.

When Lucifer thought of you, he couldn’t help also thinking of Lilith. Granted, you and he were only friends, but Lilith had also disappeared and now she had been missing for seven lonely years. Lucifer would hate to think that he had driven the only other person to live with him since then away too.

Anxiously, he twisted his wedding ring from side to side, feeling more miserable than ever.

“Hey boys,” Your cheery voice greeted as you entered the parlour.

Lucifer spun around to find you eagerly smushing Spick and Span’s faces like they were puppies or something equally as pettable.

“(Y/N)… You’re back,” He murmured quietly.

Mistaking his quietness for indifference towards you, you wilted somewhat, “Yeah, but I can uh- I can leave again if that’s what you want.”

“What I want?” Lucifer repeated listlessly. He held up his hand as if he was going to touch you, but let it drop again, “I’m… I’m going to my workshop.”

You nodded, your brows furrowing at the strange exchange, “Okay, I’ll- I’ll be in my room.”

Lucifer passed by you to leave the parlour first, then he seemed to change his mind, if only for a moment.

“It’s good to have you back,” He said softly before heading out.

You smiled to yourself, relieved. “It’s good to be back.”

You thought that Lucifer hadn’t heard you, yet as he walked to his workshop, a small smile reached his lips; it had been a long time since he’d considered anyone new to be a friend.

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

The Silver Dragon Cometh - Part 1

Summary: Lullaby and Khopesh and their gaggle of Primaris friends/acquaintances are having a lovely picnic under the sun. The weather is warm, the food is filling, the conversation is surprisingly easy flowing. Lullaby even makes a few new close friends, and confides in them some struggle they're having with their powers. If Only things could remain so lovely...

Previous Chapter Here!

Next Chapter Here!

Where is all started! Here!

Warning: Social Anxiety, Fights, Injury, Cursing, Literally messing with people's heads, and what could technically be considered micro aggressions to go with the Macro aggressions.

Tags: This one is another collaboration with @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan! We've also got characters from @sleepyfan-blog and @kit-williams making an appearance. If you've contributed a character and I don't mention it here just DM me I'll fix that right up!

@bleedingichorhearts @beckyninja @bispecsual @passionofthesith @egrets-not-regrets @felinisnoctis

“Right,” Karlsor says, “try again, just like before.”

He holds out a hand, and like you've been doing for most of this session you hold out yours, a few inches above his. Parallel, not touching

“If it helps,” Karlsor says, “try to visualize the mycelium network stretching out their roots- like leaves of a plant extending to reach the sun.”

You try to do that. In recent trainings you had learned to Sense the slight difference when your powers were working. Feeling the flow so to speak, you could even tell when power was flowing out vs in. Sometimes, you could even see…Things very faintly when you absorbed enough energy. But it never lasted very long. 

And try as you might, you really weren't feeling any power flow one way or another, no matter how hard you visualized your little roots reaching up (or down in this case) to make contact with Karlsors hand. You could feel the Strain of trying to push them, and it was honestly starting to give you a bad headache. 

Karlsor meanwhile was using his warp sight, and feeling his own headache starting. He could see the mycelium tendrils reaching, but it seemed like a few inches was Lullaby's current limit as far as projection went for now. 

Part of him wanted to say Fuck it and touch the little roots so they'd relieve his headache. He hissed, patience patience…His head throbbed in vengeance and his sight wavered, spots of darkness flickering in and out.

Yeah fuck patience they'd been at this same fucking bullshit for over an hour and went from one inch to a Maybe two inch limit. Karlsor dimmed his warp sight with a gruff muttered “enough…Fuck damn shit this hurts.”

He heard you huff with disappointment before a warm small hand made contact with his and the pain and throbbing lessened. “Sorry Karlsor,” You murmur. 

“Eh, some training is harder to do than others,” Karlsor says, “Try and, ugh, meditate and think about stretching the network, without trying to use your powers. That might help?”

He sighs in relief, “Fuck I’m glad that your powers help. My headaches are a lot better now. Thanks.”

“No trouble,” You smile wryly. “You know as much as I do right now, Teach. I'll give it a shot. Besides, I'm glad I can at least do a few things consistently.”

“Consistency in what you can do, is really important,” Karlsor says seriously, “being able to do it more than once, means that it’s repeatable rather than just only being able to do something once. Scientific Method and all that grox-shite.”

“I Do appreciate the Scientific Method. But speaking of once in a while things…” You glance at the clock, “Would it be okay if we call today's session a little early?”

“I fuckin guess, but what for?” Karlsor asks. 

You smile, and start gathering your things. “Khopesh said Claude wanted me to meet some of the other Primaris Marines they know. So we're meeting at the park for a picnic!” You answer cheerfully. “There's apparently some new arrivals And I even baked and decorated a cake! Do you want me to save you a slice?”

You omitted the near mental breakdown you had trying to make the icing look nice. It was a fun process but you wanted to make a good impression. 

“Ah- I heard about them, one of them is a feral bastard of a Lamenter, and one of the other’s is another, ugh, Ultramarine.” Karlsor says- remember what Claude’s spoken of some of the newly arrived Primaris Marines. “A break’s a good idea- go on, have fun.”

“Pfft,” You snickered a bit at the shade Karlsor was throwing around. “Well as long as they like strawberry cake I'm sure it'll be fine. Thanks, Teach!“

“You’re welcome. Save me a slice, yeah?” Karlsor says. He likes cake. “If you can. Lamenters are very… soft with baselines.”

“Push meets shove I'll bake you your own cake, text me your flavor preferences!” You call back, and hit an eager run to the pantry. 

“Deal!” Karlsor perks up with a grin.

He texts you [Meyer Lemon and Raspberry] for his flavor preference.

You pass by Pyrus in the hallway who gives you a cheerful greeting. “Hello Lullaby!”

“Hi Pyrus gotta run!”

You pass by the med bay where apothecary Zariel is exiting a room. He happens to see you. “Ah Lullaby finished with your studies?”

“For today anyway, gotta go, there's a picnic with my name on it!”

Zariel laughs, “Very well, mind where you run.”

“I will!”

You come to the food pantry where you happen to see Zaarius examining the larder and taking stock. 

“Hello Zaar!” You greet him, clearly still bouncing with energy. “Is it still here?”

“Naturally dear,” He cooes, reaching to one of the high temperature controlled shelves. “One Strawberry cake with strawberry buttercream icing and Adorable vanilla buttercream rosettes. Unmolested…no matter how Badly certain individuals wanted to.”

You hear a familiar grumbling walking in with more items for the pantry. “I only said I wanted a Bit of the icing.” Khopesh grumbled, placing items on shelves with rapid speed even while he complained. 

Zaarius rolled his eyes. You trotted over to give your love a hug. (Carefully while still holding the cake.) “Hey Sweetness! You'll get to have some soon.” You reassure him with a kiss on the lips. “I'll make sure you get the first piece!”

Khopesh trademark purrs picked up as you embraced him. “That is acceptable.” He agrees then turns to Zaarius. “As promised all the items are unloaded and sorted.”

“Properly?” Zaarius asks pointedly, knowing younger marines penchants for slacking on work they deemed unimportant. 

Khopesh huffed with slight indignance. “Of course! What do you take me for a Space Wolf? Any Nightlord worth their pelts does Not mess around with Food.”

“And yet you wanted to snag a bit of my cake early?” You ask dryly. 

“Sorting and Storing food, not eating it dear Lullaby.” He explained with a flash of teeth. “When processing a carcass the most important factor is proper cutting, sorting, and preserving for the Purpose of eventual consumption. Or eventual leather work or scrimshawing in the case of skin and bones.”

Zaarius arches an eyebrow at him, “No, but young ones can get impatient and sloppy.”

Khopesh made a slightly dramatic gesture for Zaarius to examine his section. Which the Noise Marine did and actually gave a somewhat impressive hum. “Not bad, very well Khopesh, you are released until your next kitchen duty. Enjoy your outing.”

“Excellent!” Khopesh growls with vigor, before scooping you, and the cake up so you were riding in the crook of his elbow.

“Oop! H-hey!” You say with delighted laughter, and sling an arm over Khopesh's neck for better grip. “By Zaarius! See you around.” You call back as you are whisked away by your goofy Nightlord.

Zaarius chuckles and shakes his head at the two. Young love.

________________

Olly had brought some chocolate rocks- which were not rocks at all, but were chocolate with a crunchy candy coating as part of snacks for the picnic that he was invited along with. Ramiel and Cedric had done the lion’s share of the cooking, while the rest of them cleaned up and carried the picnic food stuffs, drinks and supplies.

Olly turned to one of his brothers, careful to approach while the other was not doing anything too consuming. In this case Claude laying out the blankets and cutlery.

“So…this baseline Khopesh is bringing…what are they like?” Olly asks.

Claude pauses for a moment. “Don't worry. They're very sweet.” He assures Olly. “And funny, and warm and reassuring.”

Jophiel gives Claude a sideways glance, but doesn't comment. Warm and reassuring? There's nothing warm and reassuring about being crawling with bizarre unknown (possibly heretical) psychery. 

Olly looks down to the chocolate rocks he'd brought with him. “Do you think they'll like the candy?” 

Kerubiel sneered a little, his arms crossed over his chest, still not certain why they needed to be interacting with a baseline human that wasn’t Bonded to a Night Lord, but somehow someone that they cared for. 

“Meet'in a new person won’t, likely hurt us,” Thressl noticed the look on his face and shoved an elbow into his side, “lighten up ya sour puss!”

If Kerubiel had actual fur it would've raised in hackles at that comment. “I am not a Sour Puss!” He hissed. 

Thressl smiled. “Sounds like somethin a sour puss would say.”

Kerubiel huffed. “I just don't understand why we're playing baby sitter to a soft handed, Soft Headed baseline.” He turned to get back to his proper task. 

Only to be met with Claude appearing Right in his face. The Dark Angel nearly jumped at having his space taken up so suddenly. His teal eyes were Deathly, serious. “Don't call them that. Unless you want me to tell Captain Ash'val you've had another ‘lapse in good sense.’”

Lion on the Hill what the Fuck?! Kerubiel had never seen Claude look so serious…and Much less threaten to rat him out to a First Born??

Still though! He wouldn't take it back, he just…wouldn't push the issue. “Fine…but only because it would be unbecoming as a son of the First.” He groused. “When are they supposed to be here anyway?!” He asked, trying to distract himself from Claude still Staring at him. 

He was three seconds from bapping Claude in the face, when a call came from up the path they'd taken. Claude rolled his shoulders and tilted his chin a little, his eyes flashing teal- ready to smack the shit out of his brother cousin if need be.

Claude did break from staring him down to swivel his head in the direction. All of the Primaris Marines hear someone coming over, and Claude relaxes, and smiles a little when he spots Khopesh and Lullaby

“We have arrived!” Khopesh called out to his gaggle of little brothers and cousins. 

“And we brought cake!” Your voice came after. “Hi Claude!” 

Claude happily approached you and Khopesh first, as you were set down on your own feet. You approached the short haired Primaris, and offered a hug, which Claude gladly accepted. He keeps half an eye on Kerubiel- just in case the other tries to smack him when he turns his back on the other.

The firm but affectionate squeeze lasted a perfect amount of time, as Khopesh then took his turn… He returns the gesture to you very gently, making sure to not use too much strength.

“C'mere you little Bird Fiend!” He growled playfully, snatching up Claude and lifting him a bit off the ground. 

Claude tilts his head back in a laugh, and hugs Khopesh back just as strongly.

“Ah brother this is a bit much!” Claude stated but didn't actually struggle. Khopesh did acquiesce to placing him down with a gentle thud! Followed by playfully ruffling his hair. 

“So! What is there to eat!? I've spent all morning around food I wasn't allowed to eat.” Khopesh says cheerfully, before taking several deep sniffs of the air. “OoOooh! Brawts from the Bakery run by that Templar. Yes!”

You notice a much…Taller fellow standing a bit awkwardly behind Claude. He has something in his hands. 

“Olly, Cousin! Come here!” Khopesh crows joyfully. “This is my Lullaby.” He introduces you and you give a small wave and a “Hello,”

“I've told you about them before.”

Olly has a look of realization. “Oh! Is this the human you said you wanted to place in a terreriu-

Khopesh cuts his adorable dense cousin off. “Ah Hey! What have you made now? More things that bubble and foam?”

Olly seems to shift a little in place. “Ah No Sorry…didn't have the time or supplies. I made chocolate rocks with candy shells and gems inside. I Hope they are to everyone's liking…”

You peak to see and indeed, that's what he's got in the box he carries. “They Look good! I can't wait to try one!”

“You can have one now if you like?” Olly says shyly as he approaches the pair of them. The colors of the chocolate are slightly off- made from natural (safe to consume for baselines and space marines) colors. Rather than that weird ‘food dye’ stuff that comes from uh… less natural stuff? Which tasted wretched he could taste Red 3, and it was. DISGUSTING. Yuck.

“If it's okay with you.” You agree holding the cake in one hand and your other one out. 

Olly smiled, and grabbed a piece of his candy (tamping down on the urge to spend minutes finding Just the right one), handing it to you. Although, he did pick one of the Best Looking and Smelling one. He had tasted tested- and had the others taste test them (and had a Baseline human- one who was Bonded to Hura, try them, just in case. Baseline humans had different tastes, different preferences, but sometimes Astartes made food that could be… odd to baseline human palates.)

You examine the candy, marveling at the color and the tiny bits of sugar gems. “It almost looks too good to eat! You made these?” You ask for a bite to see the cross section. 

There is a cross section of the blue colored chocolate jewel candy, the thin coating of candy is a nice blue, with dark chocolate with little ‘gems’ of crystalized sugar and bits of jam. A cross between a chocolate truffle and a jammy candy.

“Yes,” Olly says, then rambles on the process he had to go through in order to make the candies, the temperatures, the timing, the flavors and the combinations, and why he’d chosen the colors and flavors he had- he was able to ramble more when Kerubiel stomps over and shoves a sandwich in his mouth.

“Olly, shush!” Kerubiel says, “I doubt they care about you prattling on about candy making. Honestly, you need to learn to be quiet.”

“... Yes Keru,” Olly says, shuffling his feet and trying not to visibly wilt. 

OH! Oh No, This catty bitch did Not. “Actually! I Like hearing him talk about baking and candy making.” You huff. “And no I'm not just saying that to Spite you, though I do enjoy doing that.” You aim pointedly at the…familiar Dark Angel. 

You turn a much kinder gaze onto Olly. “I'd be a big hypocrite if I didn't like candy making. I got my bachelors in chemistry after all, they say chefs are born in the kitchen. Chemists, are born in the bakery…candy store in this case but you get what I mean.”

It is Now Kerubiel fully recognizes both the Night Lord and the Baseline human. Oh no. Not them. Again. Claude as does Thressl, and they both notice the way that Kerubiel reacts to them and they look at each other and then at Kerubiel and are on either side of him, and wait for the scolding to end.

“What did you do?” Thressl asks Kerubiel, a shit eating grin on his face.

“When did you meet Lullaby and Khopesh?” Claude asks.

“And how badly did you piss them off?” Cedric asks, with a disappointed sigh. Kerubiel was great at a lot of things, socializing was not one of them. And he was shit at socialization at times. The Dark Angel just groans at the indignity of the memory, and his subsequent punishment.

“It's fascinating how just a change in temperature can Completely alter the resulting structure of the final product! I mean take caramel for example!” You posit. “Bless my mother she tried to make me a caramel syrup when we were out of the regular kind one morning, but the temperature was off and we ended up with caramel drops that were like Cement on our French toast. Couldn't even eat it, because it hurt our teeth. And getting it off the plates was a Nightmare.”

“It’s a lot of fun!” Olly says, after finishing the Surprise Bite of the sandwich, that Kerubie had shoved it into his face, and pulled the rest of it out of his mouth.

“Khopesh also said something about bubbling and foaming? Do you make other things besides candy?”

Olly nodded. “I have made Marble soda before, using marble pieces and the base facilities. I was told it was quite enjoyable.”

You balked for a moment. “Wait! You actually made soda out of rock? How??”  Then your chemist brain caught up. “Marble has Calcium Carbonate! You actually used the calcium carbonate in the marble to make the Carbon Dioxide for the soda water? That's amazing!”

“Yes- it was a lot of fun to figure out how to make- and the experiments were still edible- uh, by Astartes standards, anyways.” Olly says, with a big grin on his face as his eyes sparkled. He didn’t have the patience to be a fully trained Chemist- trying to understand the different symbols and whatever the fuck a neutron is and why the different numbers matter hurt his brain. The teacher-brother had said that “you asked the right questions, but can’t seem to do the math, I think you’re better off staying a battle brother, little one.”

“What acid did you use? Or what source?” You ask excitedly. “Or I guess boiling or heating would allow for thermal decay which would also release CO2. One moment.” You place the cake down on the picnic table and pick up a Stick and your phone. 

“There are acids that can be used? Source? I did the boiling and heating method,” Olly replied.

“Source as in what food ingredient. For example, vinegar has acetic acid or lemon juice has citric acid. But you did the thermal option so in that case…” You reference your phone and drawn 

         CaCO3 — Heat –-> CaO + CO2 

“In simple terms you took this starting ingredient or Reagent, and applied heat until it broke apart into Calcium Oxide and Carbon Dioxide, notice how the same number and types of symbols appear on both sides, they've just been rearranged. When you were heating a white powder was left behind and discarded, that is the Calcium Oxide. The other is the gas you used to infuse the soda. So your not human safe products likely had too much Calcium Oxide.” You declare. “Which would have made them more bitter and well…poisonous.”

You break from your rambling, realizing you got a bit Too excited. “I Really like chemistry…sorry.”

“Oh no! You misunderstand.” Olly reassures you. “You are correct that the ones that were not baseline safe Did have a much more bitter taste- and activated the anti-poison glands.” Olly says. “Um- Zaarius was happy to take the Calcium Oxide off my hands for… some… thing? Huh… I probably should have asked the Chaos Chemist what he wanted with the by product, yeah? Hm. But well- at least he has a use for it… whatever it was.”

“Maybe he's making Cement or blowing shit up.” You say, mostly joking…mostly. “Calcium Oxide, also known as Quick Lime, is Caustic and reacts with water.”

“Ah, oh dear,” Olly says, “Cement is the friendlier option. I don’t think that Hura would allow him to blow up the Rot Bone Base. Uh- maybe let Anrir know?”

He had looked towards Khopesh and Claude at that. He hadn’t known that white powdery stuff could be used to make concrete, or into an explosive. But- it made sense why the Chaos Marine would want it. And why he’d paid so well for the powder, once he knew what it had come from. Oh bother.

There are some stumbling, scuffling noises- and a space marine, of similar size to the primaris in badly damaged yellow-gold armor looking armor with red accents and with a black and white checker-marked pauldron with a bleeding heart in the middle. 

Nanael comes over, “Sorry I’m late! I got - uh- waylaid- oh no. Am I too late?” He had brought some of the last minute items that they had run out of - and had been sent off to go get and was back. “I got the stuff…”

“Welcome,” you pipe up cheerfully. “We've got cake and food and some damn fine candy rocks so even if you've come by accident you should still snag some.” You say jokingly. 

The newcomer perks up at your greeting. “It’s nice to meet you- uh? I go by Nanael, what’s your name?”

Nanael blinks down at you then over at Khopesh and tries not to growl at the Night Lord. Shifting closer and setting the stuff down. “Thanks for getting it Nanael,” Cedric says. “This is Lullaby, and the Night Lord is Khopesh. He’s one of Claude’s Claw.”

“Nice to meet you Lullaby,” Nanael says to you. He looks over at Khopesh, a calculating gaze in his blue-red eyes. “... I’m glad to meet a couple of people that Claude cares for so much. I have heard some. Interesting things. About both of you. Good things.”

“Awwww! Claude, you been talking sweet about me behind my back?!” You ask with glee, “I'd honestly say there's no better compliment than someone speaking well of you, even when you're not there.”

“Well Yeah,” Claude says, “you’re pretty cool. And some- uh- some of us haven’t really met many baseline humans before coming to Ancient Terra in non-combat situations before.”

You notice Jophiel looking…unsure when Claude says that. You decide to pivot the subject a bit.

“I am curious…how many battles has each of you seen? Like I know ya'll are all different ages From different ages, so who's got technically the Most experience out of all of you?” You ask, gesturing to the circle of space marines around you. 

A beat passes, and for a moment you feel the creeping dread of having committed a social faux paus crawling up your back and stirring in your gut. Cedric is not thinking about the fact that, due to the standards of certain eras, that Jophiel would be considered a Neophyte, not a Scout. He is so desperately not thinking about that.

Only for Khopesh to pipe up. “Well obviously it's me. I'm the oldest here!” He states confidently. 

“That is most likely true,” The Primaris say with varying levels of grace.

“How old are you?” Jophiel asks Khopesh. “I know that all of us have at least fought in… one battle- many of us multiple even!”

Your Nightlord seems to pause, thinking it over. “Hmm…you know what? I forgot!” He says simply eating another bite of brawt with a smile. 

“HUH!? How do you not know how old you are!?” You ask incredulously. 

Khopesh shrugs. “Never bothered to count. After I passed the trials, and became a full fledged Nightlord everything from before got pretty fuzzy.” He says, still eating. “Regardless, as a representative of the 30th millenia I am Confident I've got the most battle experience.”

“Well…true, but battle experience isn't Everything.” Thressel hummed, a glittering mischief in his eyes. 

Khopesh regarded the Primaris coolly, but with interest. “Is that so?”

“Aye! What do you say to a little…competition? Friendly match.”

Khopesh smiled and you suppressed a groan. “Right here right now? Don't tease me Scout, you don't play with a Nightlord when it comes to challenges.”

“You're on!” Thressel howls with excitement, literally, and bolts off into the more open part of the field. “Oi! Old timer! You gonna move those creaking bones or am I gonna have to wait for the 30th millenia to come again!?”

Cedric shakes his head, before standing. “Honestly,” He grumbles, then calls to the eager Space Wolf. “HOLD On If we're going to do this, we're going to do this the Right way.”

Khopesh stands, then dips back down to plant a kiss on your lips. “For luck! Watch me win my darling!” He bolts after, and the other Primaris turn to watch or gather near their brethren. Seems a small tournament is going to be held. 

Surprisingly, it's just you and Olly left by the picnic blankets while the others set up, and discuss rules. Things are peaceful, steady, if still a Little awkward with most of your mutual group out on the field. 

“So…” Olly posits. “How has your training with Claude and Karlsor been going?”

(!) “Uh…what do you mean?” You ask, trying to hide your underlying nerves. Does Olly mean…? No, no he couldn't Possibly. Why would he have been told-

“It's okay, Claude has nightmares occasionally and ah…he sometimes talks in his sleep.” Olly explained sheepishly 

Fuck. 

“So wait…you know about…the Thing?” You ask carefully, trying to keep your voice down. Olly nodded. 

“You have some gifts that need training and to keep quiet about it,” Olly says, “I won’t tell anyone else- and Claude doesn’t know that I heard his nightmare-mumbling- and kept him from telling others. If you wanna talk about it with me you can.”

You glance at the others in the field. “Are they far enough away? They can't hear us.” Olly nods again. 

You take a deep breath. “Well I'm not…unhappy. But I'm also…frustrated.” You explain, still keeping your voice down. “In theory I Should be able to project my gift further, so I can use it Without needing to touch things.”

“I've learned how to intentionally move psychic energy from one space marine to another. I've even learned to make it go the Opposite direction it would naturally flow. It's like walking against the flow of a stream but I can do it…”

“But no matter how hard I push, I can't seem to make the…roots of my power don't go out further than a couple of inches…” You say, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. 

“And…though it's unrelated, I can feel Jophie still isn't comfortable with me being here…” You say, with a little more sadness coming into your voice. “I guess part of me hopes if I can learn and Do more…he and others wouldn't be so afraid. I know that's silly, people are going to fear, it's their choice what they do with that fear. Still…kinda stings though.”

Olly hums for a moment, thinking over what you've just told him. He pulls out a candy rock and hands it to you, before taking one for himself and beginning to chew on it. 

“I don't know what to tell you about Jophiel…but for your Gift Perhaps…” Olly posits as he eats. “If your gift takes the form of Roots, maybe it doesn't want to travel in the air. Maybe it would prefer to travel through the ground?” He offers. 

You both sit there for a moment. Olly seems to think the pause is awkward and coughs a bit. “Ah sorry, that's a silly idea isn't it…”

“No, I think it makes a bizarre amount of sense and I'm…kinda surprised I hadn't thought about that.” You reassure him. You place your hand to the ground between the two of you. “I can't see it normally, but tell me if you Feel something…” You ask him. 

Olly looks confused. “Alright…what am I meant to feel?” 

You push on your power, taking hold of that subtle thread as you'd been trained to do. “Claude says it feels like…”

“Calm…” You glance up at Olly, who's now looking down at you with…well Wonder. “It feels calming…soothing…like a comforting hand on the shoulder but…in the heart.”

You smile widely. “Hang on Olly! Let me back up.” You scramble back a few steps then place your hands down again. “Ready?”

Olly nods and again, you push. It takes a moment, but Olly holds up his thumb when he feels the power connect. You feel the connection too. It's subtle but it's there. Olly grins a little- happy to be able to help, he doesn’t know much about Psykery, but he’s heard his Psyker touched brothers talk about it, part of sounds like it’s about finding the …resonance of things? 

Or something like that. Like with Psyhicic lightning- it’s like normal lightning, it wants to go down with the least resistance, so learning to not fight that and to direct and ground it so to speak is one of the major stumbling blocks- or so he’s heard the others complain about when he’s heard them talk about it. 

So he’s glad his idea about the roots wanting to be in the soil and loam, rather than in the air, is more than just a silly idea. Perhaps once they are more trained- and have a better idea of what they can do they’ll be able to push their roots through the air more? Sometimes that’s the case, sometimes it isn’t.

“What if I move?” Olly calls out to you- and then sends a vox text message that shows up on your phone. [Let’s see how far the reach of your root network is. I’ll back up a few steps.]

You give a thumbs up and the Ultramarine scrambles much like you had, just in the opposite direction. The others are still completely taken up with their sparring. Olly nods, and continues to move.

After counting his steps he sends another text message [I’m going to climb a tree and see if the Effect is still in place.]

After that he starts to climb- getting onto a supportive branch. You can just Barely see a bit of blue in the tree line, so you Push in that direction.

It's hard, but you feel a difference when you Assume your roots reach past the trees. You text Olly with one hand. [Can you feel it?]

No response comes for a moment, as you strain to make your roots Reach to their new maximum. But before Olly can respond you feel…something else. 

(!)You- you lose focus, and stop pushing causing the power to dissipate. You…you could've Sworn you felt…a Tap?

It was like something reached out to your roots and literally…poked them?? But that's not possible, the only one in the trees is Olly and he hadn't mentioned being able to do that?

Suddenly, your stomach feels…uneasy. You place your hand to the ground and push again, past the trees, past Olly on his branch. 

You pay closer attention. You feel the connection to Olly, same as you had before but there was…something that didn't feel like Olly, it didn't even feel like Claude or Karlsor or Xerxes or Dölgöön or any other psycher you'd touched it felt…

Dangerous. 

Draco had been walking through the forest- when he’d felt something strange- he had felt a light psychic energy. It wasn’t one that he recognized- so he’d crouched down and put his armored hand to the ground. He lightly reaches out his senses and pokes at the… whatever it is.

‘I wonder what that is?’ Draco thinks to himself. His brow furrows as he stretches out his senses to try and find the source of the strange weak psychic presence. It’s drowned out by some far brighter- and some far more familiar psychic presences- and some new ones as well.

Ah…the Scoutlings…and Other Scoutlings. Draco straightens back up to his full height. 

[Come to me.] Draco commands Jophiel and Claude- not only them, but to Thressl, Kerubiel and the very untrained Nanael.

Nanael- unaware of his nascent Psyker powers, that comes with his Perpetual state collapses to the ground clutching his head as his nose bleeds. “W-wh-what the fuck is this?!”

Jophiel, Claude, and Thressl all sway and groan clutching their heads and swear. “Fuck- it’s that silver bastard again.” Claude groans out.

Kerubiel hisses like an angry cat and clutches his head- he refuses to collapse- the way the other’s are. He’s a Son of the First- he’s better than that. The booming voice- has no Power of Him!

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” Thressl bellows out loud and with his Psykery. Damned witch- trying to take his mind- Out- OUT. GET OUT!

You whip your head back to the sparring matches at Thressel's pained howl. It's not just him though; Claude, Thressel, Nanael, and Kerubiel are all doubled over. Cedric, Ramiel and Khopesh are frantically trying to get the Scouts to Tell them what's wrong!

“Silver bastard,” Claude manages to choke out to Khopesh. Fuck his vision is going strange.

“BAH! ENOUGH! FACE US COWARD!” Kerubiel snarls, you notice he turns a certain direction so you do as well. Something moves just beyond the tree line and your eyes are met with a reflective Flash.

Your heart Sinks into the acid churning your stomach into nausea. 

no…No…NONONONONONONONO! You tremble, you shake, your legs lock up and you find yourself unable to move. 

Time seems to slow, and what fills your ears becomes muffled. 

A bright flash in the trees…

Reflections of glimmering gold armor…

NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO-

It's only when Khopesh's voice breaks through the haze that you come back to the present. “Silver Witch! Get your disgusting slimy mind bastardry Out of My Scouts Heads!” 

Wait…Silver? And that's when you see the true face of the current threat stride into the clearing where you'd all had your picnic. 

It's not an insurmountable monster in gold, but an unfamiliar and smaller Goliath in silver. Another Space Marine?

“Enough foolishness!” The silver space marine bellows again, and you see the way the psycher scouts tremble; grasping their skulls like something is ringing inside them. “Stand aside Bratlings, and I will make yours and your cousins discipline Merciful.”

Khopesh sets himself into position, alongside Ramiel and Cedric. They form a defensive wall between the afflicted Primaris, and the silver Goliath. 

Olly is Carefully hopping from tree to tree to get closer to The Asshole Witch in Silver. He heard about this asshole being here- and now from the others. Had seen some of his ilk take his Psyker brothers away. Some returned, some didn’t. Not again- he’s not going to let one of them take his brothers or cousins away!

You hear Khopesh respond, “It is You who will need Mercy, Silver Witch. But you will find it sorely lacking from us!”

Cedric's voice is lower, but were you to hear it you'd feel your bones ice over at the murderous tone coming out of the Marine you knew as a kind young apothecary. Who liked hugs but felt awkward about asking for them. 

“You wouldn't be the first body I've buried,” Cedric assures the Silver Witch. “Nor the first psycher to meet that fate, Any who threaten my brothers will be shown the same end.”

Ramiel, doesn't speak, his mind is pure focus, following and complementing the formation of his two other brothers. They are outmatched, and forced to defend, but they will give it their All.

A beat passes then…

The Silver Goliath becomes a blur, when your eyes can catch him again he has caught Rami with a blow, but the young Templar holds as firm as he can. It still causes him to skid back, leaving trenches in the earth. 

Cedric and Khopesh counter, setting upon the Silver Marine. Dealing with two opponents doesn't seem to phase him terribly, he bats away their strikes. 

For a moment it seems Khopesh has left him an opening, striking with his Lightning Claw his raised arm is a hazard. The Silver Knight moves to Capitalize!

Only for Khopesh to feint, turning both claws to catch the swinging blade, one sinking Into the Grey Knight's ceramite gauntlet. Like Ramiel he's pushed back a bit leaving short curved trenches, Cedric attacks the Goliath’s other side, covering and taking advantage of Khopesh momentarily stopping the sword blow.  

Only for the Silver Marine to raise his non-sword hand and set off a Blast of crackling silver Lightning, pushing Cedric back who is caught by Ramiel.   

“CEDRIC!” You scream in horror seeing the apothecary sporting soot marks and smokestacks on the armor he's wearing. 

“AGRh!” You turn back, seeing the Silver Bastard. Khopesh managed to pull one of his claws free and Sink it into the Bastards side while the fucker was busy frying Cedric. 

“VILE GUTTER RAT!” Draco bellows indignantly.  

Khopesh smiles with his full sharp teeth before he uses his claws to pull himself close and Slam the bastard for a jumping headbutt. It causes the Goliath to stagger, not expecting such an undisciplined move, but that's all Khopesh needs. He wrenches his stabbing lightning Claw free, and ferociously repeats the action, while the Other claw is still awkwardly impaling the bastard's hand, keeping them joined. 

And making the squirmy bastard Very hard to Hit! Draco thinks. As the Nightlord stays aggravatingly close, too close for punches or kicks to make impact. 

Meanwhile, Cedric only pauses for a moment to set back on his feet, before he lunges back into the fray alongside Ramiel. They capitalize on Khopesh being essentially attached to the Grey Knight: flanking their tormentor, and attacking his sides. 

The Grey Knight Is having a little more trouble batting aside these blows with the added weight of a Nightlord slowing his movements, And the bratlings, coming from his 3 and 9. Annoying little wretches! They want him to get mean? Fine!! He will get mean. 

You watch with hope as it seems your Space Marines are doing it! They're forcing him back! 

Until you see another crackling light, appear. Your heart jumps into your throat. “Watch Ou-!” You cry, but it's too late. 

A shock wave of silver lightning Blasts in a ring around the Goliath, knocking the attacking Space Marines down and back. This time they can't seem to get up as easily, and remnant sparks fizzle over their armor. 

“NO!” You cry out. This…this is your Nightmare! 

Weak, Pathetic, Not even worth a backwards glanc- Shut Up! There must be Something you can do! But it will mean...

Everyone with Know.

If the Silver Monster hears you he pays you no mind. Instead he flexes the fingers of his impaled hand, fucking casually. The psycher blast seems to have tired him a bit, but he's no where near going down.

He strides past the Space Marines he's just incapacitated, perhaps the shock has locked up their armor? They're still alive, at least you think (please be alive please still be alive Please Please Please!)

He's making his way to the Scouts, still incapacitated themselves, but they try…God they try to stand and fight. 

“We…we won't! We won't go with you!” Claude hisses. 

Though it strains him Draco uses his psychic voice. [Silence!] He says, forcing the defiant Scout to Bow. 

“That's better…Enough of your defiance. Obedience is what is expected of you. Now ACT LIKE I-!” He reinforces the next shout so it hurts more. All the Scouts tremble but he's cut off by a sudden Crashing weight!

“FOR MACRAGGE!” A voice bellows and the awful sound of Ceremite on Ceremite Screeches through the clearing! 

Draco is dumbfounded for a moment, only to find arms in Blue Ceramite wrapped around his midsection, pinning his arms and SQUEEZING. The strength is actually making it hard to breath, and denting the ceremite around his waist.

Draco glances behind and sees another unfamiliar face, another Scout, but Clearly not a psycher.…A shame, he must have guts or be Severely stupid. But the guts would be beneficial to a user of the psychic arts. 

As it stands though this Scout is just another Waste of his Time. Draco focuses his psychery into his core, and releases another Blast.

You watch in horror as Olly, sweet wonderful Olly is also Blasted back like your Khopesh…Like Ramiel…Like Cedric…

His body lays limp with the crackle of psychic lightning just like the others.

No…No…NO!

You slam your hands to the ground and you Push! You know this could mean your secret getting out, and you don't even know if you can soak up power like this but you're going to fucking try! You push your power to reach your Space Marines, to reach the Silver Bastard, you push to the fucking Limit!

And when you try…you finally See. 

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part six

pairing: (future) kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral maybe hinted angst?

el's thoughts: okayyyyyy after a lot of thinking through the plot of the series... i realized i can't actually make it so kaz and y/n are in a relationship by the end of the season.... soooo it's gonna be heavily hinted at through out the rest of the series and once i reach the end of s2 we'll just see where i go from there. anyway, sorry for keeping you waiting for a hot second! enjoy :)

masterlist

The gunshots didn’t let up as grunts were barely heard from the hall. “It’s over, Brekker!” Pekka shouted over the gunfire. Kaz pulled out two small bombs from his pocket and a lighter. He tried to start the lighter but no flicker of fire came from it. He cursed under his breath before Y/N scoffed, “Oh, hand it over.” She pulled the bombs from his hands, snapped her fingers, and lit the fuses before throwing them over to the other side of the desk. Kaz stared at her as she brought her hands over her ears. His eyes calculating as if trying to solve the puzzle that was her. A flicker of amazement flashed through his eyes but vanished as quickly as it appeared. 

Y/N quickly shoved her thoughts away, “Ears!” She shouted at him and he quickly covered his ears right before the bombs went off.

Y/N sighed out loud as she cleaned up the soiled rags and dumped the blood-infested water down the drain. “It’s a miracle she’s alive.” She said, dragging herself out of her own thoughts of the moment just hours before.

Nina scoffed, “I’m no healer, but she would’ve been fine.” The inferni nodded, “Probably… I just don’t do blood.” The heartrender rolled her eyes, “How you were a lieutenant-general of the second army, I don’t know.” 

“Even I’d like to know how I got the position.” Her eyes glazed over as a memory of the Darkling flittered through her mind, “You know, never mind. I don’t want to know.” The reminder of his dark eyes scanning over her made a chill run down her spine.

Nina watched her with saddened eyes, knowing vaguely about the girl’s past from hushed whispers and rumors that spread like a wildfire through the little palace. It was a known fact that the General had a soft spot for the inferni since the moment he brought her in. Where she came from, no one knew. Everyone knew better than to prie into her business given her relationship with the Darkling. Were they a couple? It was never confirmed, but it was suggested strongly through actions. 

Muffled voices snapped the two out of their separate trains of thought. 

“We should go update them on Inej.” Nina shot her a smile as she walked out of the room. 

Y/N pulled herself out of her chair and followed, down a winding hall to the room where the muffled voices were heard. 

“You don’t take down a lion by cutting off his tail.” Kaz’s grave voice spoke harshly.

“I’m sorry, you’ve been on safari when? We’re putting out lives on the line.” The resentment in Jesper’s tone was as clear as the night sky outside the tomb windows.

“I thought you preferred it that way.”

The two grisha shared a look before making their presence known. Wylan was the first to turn toward them, “Is Inej going to be okay?”

Nina ran her hands over the waist of her dress as she spoke, “Um… I wouldn’t call myself the most proficient Healer, but she’ll not be a permanent resident here.” 

“Not yet anyway.” Jesper threw a glare at Kaz.

“Technically, no one gets buried here anymore. When the firepox plague hit years ago, so many people died that the crematoriums all got backed up, so they had to float all the dead bodies in the harbor.” Wylan said.

As the young chemist spoke Y/N noticed Brekker tense up at the mention of the plague. His shoulders stiffened and his hands clenched, causing the leather around his knuckled to tighten around his fists. 

“That’s enough!” 

The four people behind him froze in mild shock and slight fear. The sound of shuffling papers was heard before he turned around, handing the papers to Jesper. 

The sharpshooter’s eyes glanced down quickly, “Appelbroek?”

“Pekka has a glass factory there, but there are no sandpits in Appelbroek. So cartage fees would kill all of his profits. Find out what he’s really up to.” Kaz turned to Wylan, “If you want to help, instead of spurting useless historical facts, go with Jesper.” 

The pair was quick to leave the room, closing the door behind them.

All who were left were Nina, Y/N, and Kaz. Silence settled for a moment before the Heartrender spoke up. “Not that you asked, but you might want to consider grounding your Wraith for now. I always wanted to be a Healer, but that doesn’t mean that I’m any good.”

Kaz cut her off, “If I need you again, I’ll let you know.”

If glares could kill, he would be six feet under, two times over. Y/N and Nina shared an infuriated look, neither moving to make their leave. 

“All the guards who work the fights at Hellgate are loyal to Pekka and on his payroll. All but one.”

“The fights?” Y/N’s voice surprised her as she gave voice to her thoughts. 

“Hellshow. It’s exactly as you’d imagine. Find a guard names Hiemstra. He has a port-wine stain across his brow. He’ll get a message to your Fjerdan.”

“Can we trust him?” Nina asked. 

“We can trust he doesn’t want Pekka to know what I have on him.”

Nina nodded slightly and moved to the door as Kaz spoke up once again. “What you did tonight made you a Crow.” He turned to Y/N, “You as well. Keep a low profile. You’ll both be in Pekka’s sights now.”

The girls shared an annoyed glance before the brunette made her leave. 

Y/N stood silently by the other door watching Kaz sort through a few more papers as he zoned out on the wall in front of him. “Inej.” He looked up at met y/e/c eyes with a fire behind them. 

“Down the hall.” Y/N nodded to the door behind her and held her breath as he limped past her. 

~

“What’s yours?”

Y/N barely heard Inej’s voice as she walked down the hall quietly. 

“The limp. The cane.” Kaz’s voice sounded strained as if it hurt him physically to speak.

Her stomach turned involuntarily as she watched them from the doorway.  Kaz stared at her as she brought her hands over her ears. His eyes calculating as if trying to solve the puzzle that was her. A flicker of amazement flashed through his eyes but vanished as quickly as it appeared. She felt her heart clench at the memory, her mind still trying to find the reasoning behind it. 

It was simply amazement. Kaz had never worked closely with a grisha, let alone the most powerful grisha in their class. She’d learned at an early age that some people get amazed at the slightest sign of power. And she picked up quickly that Kaz Brekker was one of those people. Even if he held his composition together.

If the look on his face was simply amazement, why did she replay that moment in her mind more than she’d like to admit?

Dragging herself out of her spiraling thoughts, she cleared her throat. Dirtyhands and the Wraith moved apart and turned to her. Kaz stared at her for a moment, the familiar flash of amazement flew through his coffee-brown eyes before they turned to stone once again.

“What’s the safest way from here back to the Slat?” Kaz asked. The grip on his cane was tight, making the leather gloves flex with his hand.

“Rozenstraat onto Buysberg. Why?” Inej answered, her voice tense.

“We need some new blood.” Kaz limped heavily towards the door and glanced one last time at Y/N before disappearing down the hallway. 

Y/n turned to Inej with a small teasing smile causing the suli girl to look down and hold her bleeding arm. “It’s not what you think.”

Y/N calmed her beating heart and internally sighed, “Believe me.” She huffed as she walked into the room to get a better look at her wounded arm. “‘Cause I was just thinking that he’s shit at first aid.” She picked up a clean rag and poured the disinfecting alcohol onto the fabric. “You might need a hand with this before I accompany Nina to the Hellshow.” She winked at the Wraith and they both chuckled. She started cleaning the cut along her forearm making Inej gasp at the stinging. 

Y/N bit back her smile in sympathy and shook her head slightly, “I’m sorry.”

~

“Well, isn’t this fun?” Y/N wrinkled her nose in utter disgust as they walked through the stands of the area inside Hellgate. Nina shot her a sharp glare causing the inferni to raise her hands slightly above her waist in surrender, “Right, sorry.”

The slow cranking of metal against metal echoed in the arena over all the shouts and loud conversations from the crowds. The two grisha women walked closer to the metal cage, Nina grasped the thick bars between her hands tightly, as if willing the metal to bend at her will. They both watched as a tall man walked out from under the gate. 

“Matthias.” Nina’s voice was barely heard over the cheering around them. 

The two men in the ring stood there for a moment before the one with ‘cannibal’ written on his back lunge first. A strong punch to the Fjerdan’s jaw caused his head to snap to the side, and with no time to recover another blow was aimed at his stomach. 

After taking a few more hits, resulting in the Heartrender flinching at every grunt, the Fjerdan finally snapped. He threw a jaw-snapping punch at the smaller man, spun around, and threw his elbow back landing on the man’s collarbone. The latter fell to the floor giving Matthias an opening to continue his attack. He picked up a leg and dragged the man on his back before crushing his leg in his grasp. 

The roar of the crowd grew loud enough to leave the inferni’s ears ringing. Nina called out to Matthias as she moved along the ring’s metal cage. Y/N followed her keeping a cautious eye on their surroundings, not placing a single valchka coin’s worth of trust in the people around them. Her cautions played out to be right when arms circled around her holding her arms apart. Nina struggled against the tight grips, shouting at the guards to let them go. 

“Rare thing, Heartrender, to know a new fighter by name.” The heavy accent from the Wanderling Isle made Y/N turn around in shock. Pekka Rollins stood before both women, still struggling in the grips of their captors. “Hellgate’s a rough spot for a Fjerdan to make friends. A good woman would do all that she could to see her man free.”

The two grisha shared a look before Nina turned back to Pekka and asked with a strained voice, “What’s your price?” 

He leaned closer to the Heartrender, “Bring me Kaz Brekker or I’ll see to it that your Fjerdan’s next fight is to the death.” 

~*~

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[scekrex]

Hi I know you already have a lot of prompts you're working on but I just read that new part of Overlord!reader and got kinda inspired so I figured I send it now before I forget

Reader just got through his daily paperwork so he proceeds to go to balcony leading to the garden to do a bit of 'bird watching' to relax, then some sort of magical video call appear, open to reveal the king of Hell with a bunch of other people in the background. Confusion gives way to outright wrath as the king basically demands he hands over Adam.

Ever since the outing, he had been inundated with offers and demand that he hand over the angel, he had to bite his tongue because some were business partners, others, while not a threat, would make him take time away from his darling birdy. But this king in name only, who can't even get to him because he made sure his little paradise in Hell is so ward off and hidden it might as well be nonexistent, he went off coldly about how he nurse him back to health, take care of him, lengths he took to ensure his happiness and comfort, why would he give him up now. Only for Lucifer to reply how happy an angel could be in hell, as if on cue, Adam flew up to the balcony and into your arms, demanding affection in a happy, mock whiny manners. Not noticing the window or how his lover beam with vindictive satisfaction at Lucifer anger -and jealousy?- nor how a hand move away to close the call before going back to satisfying his demands

The Adamsapple undertone is soooo fucking lovely like ehcueuczc I hope you like how it turned out <3

Bird of Hell's Paradise

The king's demand of golden birds

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Watching your little golden feathered bird roam around the garden always calms your nerves, especially after days like today. The VEEs had sent a shittone of paperwork, they had tried their very hardest to get their filthy sinner hands on Adam - not that your hands were any purer. You had reasons to be in hell, after all, and those reasons were against the choice you’d made if you were given one. But your hands had been cleaned from the blood when you had decided to live on the very edge of the pride ring, far away from the demons and sinners that roamed hell’s nasty streets. Adam was watering the plants, making sure they all stayed hydrated. A habit that he had picked up on, the first man had once or twice mentioned that your garden felt like Eden - like home - and that was why he felt responsible to take care of your lovely plants.

A tiny little VoxTek drone accompanied you on your little balcony and before you had the chance to decline the incoming call and destroy the small piece of technology, the call was started and a video projection of the king himself appeared. The little drone had left enough space between itself and you to be easily overlooked if you were not focusing on it. The king however was not alone, along his side you spotted Zestial, Vox himself and a bunch of nameless faces that you had never seen before. “Your Majesty,” you hummed slightly annoyed by the interruption and bowed before the king. Yes, the timing was bad, but Lucifer was truly no one to purposely mess with, there was a reason why he was the king after all. “Listen Y/N, I’ll make this quick, you’ll obey and we all will continue to leave you alone in your perfect little paradise on the other side of the ring,” the king spoke as he looked down at you from the video call. Your eyes left the technical device to look for your little birdy, rushing through trees and carefully taking care of the sensitive plants. The golden feathers of your beloved little angel sparkled in the synthetic sunlight that you had managed to create over time. “Name your desire then, Your Majesty,” you mumbled as you joyfully watched Adam, your attention was on your lover and the king did not seem to like that fact at all. “Adam,” Lucifer spoke and that made you snap your head sideways to look at the king and the people keeping him company. “Excuse me?”

The king tilted his head upwards, making him seem taller than he actually was as he looked down at you, “I demand that you hand out Adam.” You however shook your head as you denied the king’s demand, “I won’t hand out my golden little bird, Sir.” The king’s mimic changed into something you were unable to read, yet you continued to explain to the blonde male why, “I took him in when you and your daughter had left him to bleed out. Adam had been located right next to the new Hazbin Hotel that you and their residents built,” you explained where you had found him, though you were aware that the king knew that already, he had been the one to kick Lute and the other exorcists out of hell in the first place. He was the reason why Adam would have died alone if you wouldn’t have paid attention to the battle. The lovely brunette would be dead by now, maybe even eaten by the cannibals Charlie had considered her army and invited to her hotel for protection. As if Alastor and Lucifer had not been devense enough. “You could have taken the first man in instead, but you chose to leave him, to let him die alone. I not only provided him shelter from the sinners’ greedy eyes, I also offered him a forever home,” the king looked angry as you spoke your words, you found yourself not caring enough though, so he was angry that someone else found the first man the king himself would have killed if it weren’t for Charlie? Good. If that was the case, then Lucifer shall remain angry.

The blonde knew just how true your words were, he was very aware that Adam seemed to enjoy not only your company,but also the place you had offered him to spend his eternity at. Otherwise the brunette would have left you and your home already, at least that’s what Adam would have done in Eden. But back in Eden the first man had been someone entirely different, he was not the kind stranger Lucifer got introduced to anymore. And maybe Lucifer hoped you would hand out Adam and the brunette and the blonde could be what they were in Eden before Lilith had been created. But deep down inside of him the king of hell knew that would never be the case.

A soft yet sarcastic chuckle rumbled through the blonde’s body, “Well, how happy could an angel be in hell? Look you’ve-” the king interrupted himself as he heard the flapping noise of wings and given how loud the sound was the creature attached to the wings was not only nearby but also owned a huge pair of wings. Adam flew right in front of the little VoxTek drone, blocking the king’s view, “The fuck is taking you so long?” The first man complained, his arms crossed over his chest as he pouted at you. He was quick to land right in front of you, unintentionally shielding you from the king’s eyes and yet they all saw very well what was happening. “I’m so sorry my dear,” you hummed softly as Adam wrapped his arms around your body, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, “Work kept me busy longer than I expected it to.” You side-eyed the drone, letting the king and his company know that they were the cause of the hold up. “Well, get your hot ass down into the motherfucking garden then, you promised me fucking cuddles,” his voice was muffled by your skin yet the brunette spoke loud enough for the blonde to hear.

Lucifer had transformed into his demon form, not able to control all the anger and hatred he was feeling towards you. How dare you keep Adam from him? Adam, who used to belong to him when it had been just him in Eden. But this was not Eden, this was Hell and in Hell the first man belonged to you and not him, a painful truth the blonde had thought he would be able to change. And despite being the king, he did not get what he had demanded. For the first time in a very long time, someone had denied Lucifer his deepest and darkest desire.

“Very well, my love,” you agreed to Adam’s reminder of the promise you had made, your hand gently ruffled through his hair and the former angel was eager to lean into the touch you offered. A quick peck on his head and then you turned off the drone with a swift motion of your hand that remained unnoticed by Adam, the first man was way too busy holding onto you and breathing in your scent. “Who the fuck was keeping you so goddamn busy?” the brunette complained as he held onto you even tighter. You chuckled softly as you placed another kiss on his head, “Lucifer.” Adam’s body tensed up at the mention of his name - not because memories of Eden were filling his mind and the name made him uncomfortable, but because Lucifer had been the one to almost kill him, the king of hell had beaten the living shit out of Adam and the brunette was very aware that the fallen angel was able to do much more than just that.

“Don’t you worry, my golden feathered bird, he won’t touch you.”

[chronicbeans]

Candle Cove Headcanons (2)

This set focuses more on the fictional "fandom" (read: the people who either remember watching the show or have heard about it from their parents who have) would react to what they assume to be the show's attempts at representation.

TW: Poor Representation of Mental Health and Chronic Health Conditions (particularly skin conditions), Mentions of Period Specific Stigmas/Discrimination and Abusive Behaviors

• The show has had people debating a lot of aspects about it, and the topic of representation, more particularly in the mental health department, is a big one. While doing so, many people like to mention how the show was created in the 70's, not necessarily to defend the poor representations of certain topics and groups of people, but instead to try to explain why it might be that way.

• One major topic is Pirate Percy, who is stuck in the odd limbo of "This Man Seems Like He Might Have Something Like Schizophrenia, But The Show Never States It, And It Could Technically Be Magic Bullcrap". However, people do tend to agree that, regardless of whether or not it is magic, his symptoms are very in line with the condition. So, he is still similar enough, where people still see him as being the show's "representation" of it.

The problem then begins where Percy is, unfortunately, a victim of the Schizophrenia to Violent Criminal Pipeline that the media likes to latch onto, mainly with the final episode where a paranoid Percy attacks Janice, and it is implied that he did so to his last crew. Many are not so surprised by this, because the 70's was not the best at representation or awareness of mental illness due to the stigma around it being much stronger back then, even if it is still around today. Others have pointed out that, if Percy was supposed to have a mental health condition and it wasn't magic, he is most likely in a very tricky spot as the world of Candle Cove seems to take much inspiration from the late 1700s to early 1800s. Back then, the main mental health treatments were to either deal with it on your own, asylums, or some sort of religious intervention. This was further proven by a few episodes where Horace would say that Percy should go to an asylum, seemingly implying that asylums are an existing thing in their time. So, not only was he a victim of the Schizophrenia to Violent Criminal Pipeline, he is also in the situation of "If the Creators Wanted to Show Accurate Treatment Within the Setting They put Themselves Into, it Would be Horrible. If They Wanted to Try to Show More Believable but Accepting Reactions and Treatment of it, Nobody In-Universe Would Actually Fit Because Nobody in that Era Understood It". Basically a damned if they do damned if they don't scenario they put themselves in because they wanted to make the show as accurate as they could.

Some of the younger fans who only know the show from listening to their parents describe it have made drawings and jokes about the scenario. They could range from a lighthearted "Get Well Soon, Percy!" card, to a more grim Percy in an asylum rambling to the doctors about the Laughingstock. There's even a joke theory that the entirety of Candle Cove was all in Percy's head, based on the numerous theories about Janice imagining the events of Candle Cove. In short, they shitpost about it all the time.

• Another, albeit more quiet topic of discussion is the mentions of chronic skin conditions in the show. Granted, with a character called The Skintaker in the show, some feel it was simply going to happen either way. The Skintaker has a very creepy, obsessive way of viewing skin in general, but his treatment of individuals with visible skin conditions, or conditions that impact the appearance of skin, like vitiligo or albinism, is extra creepy and obsessive. While some see it as the creators simply trying to make the villain seem very creepy, others see it as being way too uncomfortable. Especially because other characters in the show don't actually point out the fact that him targeting specific groups of people is a habit of his, or that it is a extremely unsettling obsession of his to go after these people specifically. They simply treat it like he's going after anyone and everyone with no acknowledgement of his fixation on people with visible medical differences in their skin.

Some others also point out that he's the only one to technically talk about skin conditions positively. While he does say some actually good words of encouragement in certain scenes, it is immediately flushed out by the fact that he's talking about them this way because he's obsessing over their skin, and the fact that he's the villain of the show doesn't help that situation either. The Skintaker also having a fondness for things he seems as "weird" makes the situation even more convoluted, since some can see the fascination being due to him liking skin, and the condition the person has could be seen by him as an extra "weird" factor into it.

Many agree that this whole situation could've been avoided if the creators of the show added a few scenes where other characters point out how odd his behavior regarding it is, but also can see how the actual characters would not mention it to him. He's already so weird about skin in general, the characters In-Universe might not even think of it as something worth talking to him about, or even see it as surprising or shocking. They just wish there was something to show that, while his behavior is bad, visible conditions are still something you shouldn't be something to be ashamed about having if you do.

• The final thing a lot of people find bad is the treatment of Horace. While yes, he is the villain's sidekick, he also makes it pretty clear that the Skintaker does not treat him well. Quite the opposite. That, and many think he is only working for him because he is desperate for positive attention from someone, and the Skintaker takes advantage of that. Yet, nobody in the show shows him any sympathy, or points out that the Skintaker is very abusive towards him, which is something Horace himself is either unaware of or ignores because of the fact the Skintaker still treats him positively on some occasions. The show even plays it off for laughs at some times. They completely ignore the fact he has shown redeemable traits, possibly seeing the fact he's hurting the protagonists and deeming him unworthy of sympathy or help in his situation. That, and they also ignore the fact that a lot of his harmful behaviors come from the Skintaker telling him to do it, and not because he actually wants to.

A lot of people in the fandom, for obvious reasons, find this extremely distasteful. They also believe it's another case of the 70's just not being that aware of how to properly represent these situations. That, and because it is technically supposed to be a children's show, they might not have intended for the treatment of Horace to be viewed in such a light. The creators might've just intended for it to all be treated as silly slapstick comedy, combined with a some motivation for Horace to stick around in spite of it, without realizing the fact it could be seen in a much darker light by an older audience. Well, an older audience that never could see the show, but was most likely still being thought about due to the adult comedy still being present.

A lot of people have joined a "movement" called Horace Deserves Better, where they "advocate" for better treatment of him in the fandom. The thing is, the fandom is so small that basically everybody is in that supposed movement and believes he deserves better in the show, and so there's really no need for it.

• The only representation that most people agree on being pretty okay are the unnamed guests on the Laughingstock. Sometimes there'd be a guest on the ship, most often being of a different culture, and some even speaking different languages. Most remember a Polish girl, a Korean chef, and a German man. However, there are many more that people cannot remember entirely, but remember aspects of their visits. A few people remember Percy advising Janice to try foreign foods before making picky judgements on them, but never necessarily for ing her to eat them if she's too uncomfortable with them.

The only real worry about the representation of the guests is not even necessarily any sort of misrepresentation, but actually mistranslations. The German guest most people remember couldn't speak English, and the Laughingstock crew couldn't speak German, with the episode being about language barriers. However, the episode did have English translations onscreen for his speech, which read like someone calmly trying to ask for for help finding his way home. However, one viewer, who's native tongue is German, remembers the actual German he was speaking to be much more disturbing. He remembers the man begging for help, and that someone was following him and was going to hurt him. The Skintaker was in the background of most scenes in that episode, which implies that the Skintaker was the person the man was talking about.

[maleyanderecafe]

I'm recently entering the world of yanderes men in games, and I started with John doe! Then I played house hunted. But, there are two endings where John doe knows you, do you know which one is canonical?

Oh boy, okay. While I have played John Doe and John Doe+, I never really went into their other games (besides Frost Bite) so I decided to play the two House Hunted games and hoo boy, they are interesting. The first one leans more into horror and what the creatures of House Hunted is while the other one is more of an April Fools one that tells a lot more about John Doe, though I think overall that one is much more fleshed out. I'll go over brief summaries of the two games for House Hunted though before giving my opinion.

House Hunted (the first one) starts out with you going to a city to live at an apartment. After wandering around, eating at a cafe or going straight to the apartment, you are stopped by one Maison Talos, the number one realtor who wants to sell you a house. You decline of course as you already have an apartment. However, upon going there, you find that your apartment is locked and after calling the company find out there's been some trouble so they either need to find a hotel or wait until they can unlock it. From there you can either wander around until you can get back in or meet with Maison. If you decide to go into the house, you find that Maison Talos is actually the house itself, luring you in to eat you. The body he presents is really just a shell used to lure people like you into the house. We find also that the town is actually full of realtors like himself who lure unsuspecting people in to eat them. If you do manage to survive by not going into the house, John Doe ends up spotting you. It's also mentioned that you are starting your job at the gas station tomorrow if you do survive.

The second House Hunted game follows a similar thread of you going to a new town and getting locked out of your apartment, but now with new characters. The realtor that tries to get you to a house is named Heim Baile, but unlike Maison is much more incompetent. You pretty much can tell he's really shady and he doesn't do a good job to hide that he's not a person (considering you can see his cord behind him), but unlike Maison, if you do visit his house, he will actually let you live and watch TV with you, even if you insult him. In one ending, he even asks you out on a date, which is cute. We also meet the mayor's assistant as well as a divorced salary man. The main attraction that we're here for is John Doe of course, as we spot what looks like a cat in the town center. Following it will reveal it's not a cat but rather a black furball with a single eye. He ends up transforming to his human self, except messing up his eye, making him look more like a cyclops. He seems really eager to meet you again despite you not remembering him, and seems to be trying his best to act human despite the obvious one eye. He seems very energetic and is happy hoping to meet you again in the future.

To be honest, I think this might be one of those games that puts John Doe as an easter egg, either in an AU type of way or in the look at my other games kind of way considering that there are also cameos from other games in this one as well (specifically the second one). However, if I were going to be more technical about it, I think that they would both be cannon, and it does make sense for John Doe. In John Doe+ we do find out that John Doe does have the ability to not only make you repeat the same day without any memory of the previous loop, but also change the perception of reality, as he can change his appearance to be more friendly. So it's not a big stretch to think that in both House Hunted worlds, that you is just experiencing the same day over and over again, which is why John Doe might remember them and they don't remember him. That's all just speculation and slightly based off of this collection of twitter posts relating to John Doe lore, but it is confirmed that House Hunted games are supposed to come before the John Doe games, so he has known you for quite a while.

If anyone can find anything on which one is actually canon, that would be nice too! John Doe is really cute in this game and so is Heim in a more awkward pathetic but still a good mannered guy kind of way.

[mando-abs]

I just need y’all to know that I met Din Djarin at Disney World over a week ago.

Y’all

I was not prepared for how polite and sweet he was. Like, y’all don’t undertsand. I’m STILL thinking about that. Do NOT fall for his tough guy persona he puts up for his job. That man is without a doubt all soft under that armor.

I’ll put my experience under the cut but I do want to say many thanks to the wonderful friend of Din Djarin that greeted me that day. Cast members rock and he was no exception.

The Technical Stuff:

Okay, so beforehand, I searched online when was the best to see him and how since Din doesn’t have a set meet and greet in the parks. Din and Grogu typically come out of a literal hole in the wall on the far end of the marketplace (coming in the marketplace from the First Order side of the land) and they make their way through the market. Also, since this is a different meet and greet, how to approach them is different than usual meets. Din chooses who to interact with, and it’s never a guarantee if you will get picked. The best chance of getting picked??? Get there early. On the day I visited, I checked the My Disney Experience App to see they made appearances on the hour from official opening (so like 8:30 AM) until 3:00 PM. (And Disney is always punctual so you can guarantee that)

If you read all of that and were thinking “this is way too tedious to see one of the most popular characters” you would be correct. But I don’t make the rules, and I was very desperate to meet him.

Before Meeting The Mandalorian:

At about 10 minutes before he was scheduled to arrive, I was met by a lovely young lady who was already waiting for her man (I know I fellow Din lover when I see one). She confirmed the information I mentioned above because my family just didn’t believe me when I said I knew what I was doing. Because of this, I sat just behind her in hopes that she got picked first because she called first dibs lol.

After 10 minutes, Din came strutting out with Grogu in sling and handlers in tow. At this point, I was loosing hold of my facial expressions. I’m pretty sure I looked like

I don’t think I’d been that excited to meet a character at Disney since Aurora and Mulan when I was a little girl.

The handlers made sure there was enough space for Din and Grogu as suddenly, in the short span of time it took for Din to walk up, there was a small crowd forming and people calling over that the Mandalorian had arrived. The lady who arrived before me was called up first and she had her moment with Din and Grogu. Very happy for her. And then there was another before me. And then it was my turn :0)

The Actual Meet:

When I stood beside Din Djarin he immediately commented on my Mandalorian shirt (yes I wore a Din focus shirt in hopes I’d get picked, don’t look at me). He motioned to my shirt and said (all of this is approximate btw) “Your allegiance is appreciated.” And I want to say he shook my hand? He was shaking a lot of hands. Like I said, he was polite! Anyways I was like, “Of course!” And then I went into a short spiel about how his and Grogu’s stories have traveled across the stars and how much they meant to me (super cheesy I know, but let me have my moment). But y’all. His response??? The softest, “Thanks☺️”

I almost died. Melted on the spot. And his body language was kinda like “aw shucks ☺️☺️☺️” (as close as a mandalorian can get to that). The worms in my brain will hold onto that one for a while.

Finally we took a picture, and when all was said and done, he turned to me, nodded, and said the ever famous line, “This is the way.”

Grogu:

Grogu was not in the picture during this interaction. 😂😂😂 I’m ashamed to say that I totally forgot about him. He was very quiet!!! And he was on the other side and I wasn’t about to stare past a man’s hip. I like to think he was in his own little baby world during the whole meet.

[underratedandoverit]

You Wanna Wish Away Your Sins (3/3)

After losing to Best Friends at Arcade Anarchy, Kip undergoes shoulder surgery. One person reaching out to him afterwards sends Kip spiraling, turning all the pain and suffering in him into… Flowers? Flowers growing in his lungs?

Kip Sabian/Chuck Taylor. Hanahaki disease. Angst. Hurt/comfort. Emotional hurt/comfort. One-sided attraction. Also tagged this from now on with manipulative Kip.

Marked Mature on AO3 for general content. Warnings for mentions of hospitals, surgery, medical stuff. Described feelings for choking and vomiting.

Other characters on-screen include Penelope Ford, Orange Cassidy. Rest of Best Friends are mentioned. Background ship of Penelope/Kris is heavily implied, but never specifically shown.

part 1 || part 2

On AO3

Finishing this took way longer than I intended. Oops. Mental illness and whatever be damned yada yada. But it's over now. And I am content. It's a whole fic and ended just as I wanted and had planned, surprisingly no surprises during writing lol. I hope it makes sense, there's a little bit there that doesn't get explained, but I have convinced myself that people can put the pieces together considering the mental state Kip is in and how the hanahaki disease works so. Yeah.

If you have read this far, thank you so much, I really appreciate you and your patience if you have waited for this to finish since I originally posted in early September. I see all the kudos and subs attached, they mean the world to me. Would love to hear your thoughts of this now that it's over, as there was a lot of time (obviously lol) and love put into this, so it would mean a lot ;; But I appreciate you all so much either way, thank you for sticking by and reading!! 💜💜

@midnightpretenders0 @stormbornpirate @ss-trashboat

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

Kip tried to keep his eyes on the television, but he wasn’t registering anything he saw on the screen. Even if he was technically interested in watching the game that was being played, Kip would have much rather been looking at something else. Or someone else. That someone being the man sitting on the couch next to him, being much more into the activity of playing a video game that he was partaking in that Kip was.

While he was glad that Chuck was coming over far more often these days, at the same time it did grind Kip’s mind that they had fallen into this false routine of a casual friendship. Chuck would appear on his doorstep, bring a movie or a game with him for them to busy themselves with that day, maybe some snacks and energy drinks, and the rest of the day they would just hang out, consume the media of the day, and that would be it.

Same talking points every single day. Sitting in the silently designated spots on the couch just far enough from one another that even by accident their hands wouldn’t brush against each other unless they were passing the food and drinks around. Eye contact was brief, almost uncomfortably so if it managed to exist in the first place, and only when one got up from the couch and asked if the other needed something or something similarly surprising happened. Maybe a laugh could gather a quick glance, maybe a sneeze, a cough. And even then it was more often Chuck doing that to Kip, while Kip was trying to steal looks into his direction any chance he could, hoping Chuck would catch a hint.

It had been days, weeks even, maybe. How many, Kip had lost a count somewhere after the first few days, partially because of the pain he was going through, partially because he still found the whole situation so absurd. But the thing he knew for sure, was that it had been too many for comfort.

Every time Kip watched Chuck walk out the door of his house again at the end of the day, his breathing became a little bit tighter, the stabbing pain in his chest more prominent, the sleep during that following night a little shorter.

He was so tired of it all, and with every day that passed him by, it was pushing Kip closer to the realization that he finally had to do something about things. Before the pain was too paralyzing, before the thoughts became too much. Before he just couldn’t do anything about it anymore, before it was all too late.

“…Hey? Kip?”

The Brit blinked blankly a few times, finally registering the voice calling out to him after the words had been repeated a few times. His eyes slowly dragged away from the television screen, facing the brunet sitting on the couch next to him, Chuck looking at him with worry and concern. It was almost adorable to Kip how his brows furrowed and eyes darted around his facial features in clear worry. Almost.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

Chuck sighed, Kip trying to offer him an apologetic smile as he watched Chuck running a hand through his hair, eyes turning away from the other man again as he shook his head a little. Kip had been too deep in his own head, with his own thoughts to notice Chuck had even tried to talk to him, the guilt almost immediately gnawing on him at the mere thought. He was supposed to try to pay attention to him, to try to make Chuck realize the situation, how close they were, to understand his feelings, to close the gap, to --

“I just wanted to know if you were hungry. We could order something in, maybe. If you’d like.”

For once Kip was thankful that Chuck wasn’t looking straight at him, his cheeks flushing red for a brief moment as he registered the words. Ordering food? Together? At his place, like this, out of the blue? For the first time?

It almost sounded like a date night proposal in Kip’s ears.

He quickly shook the thought from his head, turning away from Chuck to make sure he didn’t even by accident catch a glimpse of the blush decorating his face, desperately trying to not have the words caught in his throat, only partially succeeding.

“Ye-yeah that would be great.”

Chuck was so sincere about this question, just like he always was about everything, he was probably just hungry himself, and Kip was overthinking it all. Once again. But also, what if…

“Great. What would you like to eat?” Chuck’s words cut Kip’s thought process off again, his eyes slowly returning to the other man, watching Chuck pull his phone out of his pocket, eyes landing onto it, seemingly to avoid eye contact with Kip, who just shrugged a little. “I don’t know. Whatever sounds good.”

Chuck’s brows furrowed, suddenly looking back at Kip, making the Brit jump a little. This wasn’t the kind of reaction Kip had expected to his words, swallowing a little surprise lump in his throat as all of a sudden he was very unsure again where this was going. He hated nothing more than the unpredictable nature of their relationship, not being able to read Chuck at moments like this, mostly due to his own emotions and thoughts clouding his judgment and understanding of what the situation called for from him.

“…Okay, I’m going to be fully honest with you.”

The suddenly rather serious tone of Chuck’s voice made Kip’s eyes widen a little, he could feel his whole body tensing up at the sudden shift. Chuck offered him a small smile, most likely in hopes of trying to calm down Kip’s very obviously surprised demeanor, but seeing that smile just made Kip’s whole mind skip another beat instead.

“I’ve been worried about you recently. I actually talked with Penelope yesterday after I left, and she feels much the same way as I do.”

Chuck? Worried? About him? Chuck? Kip’s head was spinning, but he just nodded his head, not even acknowledging the fact that Chuck was also talking about Penelope being involved in this. All Kip cared about was that Chuck was thinking about him, outside of this room, outside of this couch, when he wasn’t around.

Chuck was thinking, and talking, about him.

“You’ve been… Seemingly getting worse each day I see you. You lack sleep, you lack food, you lack energy. I understand you are in a lot of pain with the shoulder and all, but you need to take care of yourself, Kip. Mine and Penelope’s help will only get you so far.”

Kip just looked at him quietly, trying to process the statement in his head, but all his thoughts retracted back to the overall realization that Chuck was worried about him. Thinking about him. That Chuck at least seemed to care more than he led on directly to him, at least before this very moment at hand.

“If there’s something wrong that you need help with, other than what we have been providing so far, you shouldn’t be afraid to ask, you know?”

Kip felt his head nodding itself, despite not approving of the movement in his mind. He was running on a practiced autopilot, still afraid that one casual movement might fuck all this up for him, not being the kind of response that Chuck wanted. This seemed to be enough for the brunet for now though as Chuck nodded back at him, eyes slowly returning to the phone in his hand. Right, he was ordering food. Right.

“So, again: what do you want to eat today? You can get anything you want, as long as it makes you eat. We just want to make sure you take care of yourself.”

At the same time it was endearing that Chuck was doing this for him, but Kip also knew he had to put a stop to this, all of it. While yes his current and constantly worsening condition was making him neglect his own basic needs, both which directly as a result affected his appetite and energy levels, Kip knew that trying to eat some proper food one day wasn’t the answer to his problems. Above all else, his condition was making it not only difficult to breathe, but the pain in his chest and particularly in his lungs made eating at this point a near impossible task.

As the silence from the Brit continued, Chuck glanced towards him, spotting Kip just looking back at him. Whether he was deep in thought or just staring, Chuck wasn’t quite sure.

“Kip?”

“I’m not hungry.”

At least it wasn’t a lie in a sense. Chuck raised a brow at him, slowly lowering the hand holding his phone onto his lap, eyes narrowing a little. Chuck’s eyes lingered on him just a little bit too long, forcing Kip to look away, back towards the television with the frozen game pause screen on it.

“You need to eat something.”

“Food can’t fix this.”

Kip could feel the confusion radiating from Chuck’s face, probably his entire being at this point, but he just couldn’t look back at him. It was so much easier for Kip to process his thoughts if he wasn’t looking at what he was sure was a very worried expression on the brunet sitting on the couch a few feet away from him.

He heard Chuck sigh. Not a very good sign.

“If you eat something, you get energy. You feel better. I shouldn’t need to explain all this to you. Kip, please --”

“This isn’t about food.”

Chuck fell silent as Kip cut him off, probably a bit more aggressively than necessary, but he was tired of this. All of this. Both his inability to do anything about the situation even though he desperately, so very desperately needed it, and the way they both seemed to just dance around the topic and the issues at hand. To Kip, Chuck offering to order him food was nothing but a detour that he couldn’t afford to wait to take to where he eventually needed to be. Kip had suffered long enough, mostly due to his own faults, yes, but Chuck jumping in to push his buttons like this, while a step in the right direction, wasn’t a fast enough track to where they needed to be.

Where Kip needed to be if he wanted to make it through all of this, it seemed like.

“…Are you mad at me?”

Kip’s eyes narrowed a little, but he still didn’t turn to look towards Chuck. All he heard was another quiet sigh.

“I don’t know how many times I can apologize for what happened. You know it was an accident. I’m sorry --”

“I don’t want you to apologize. I don’t care about that.”

If something, it was supposed to be Kip who apologized for everything, and he knew that painfully well.

“Then what is it?”

Kip swallowed thickly, being absolutely certain that Chuck could not only see it but also hear him do it. Kip’s eyes slowly dragged back to him, watching the confusion all over the brunet’s face. If the situation wasn’t so dire and heavy, Kip would have found the look on him endearing. Right now though, seeing Chuck not put the pieces together so easily, filled him with dread instead, along with the knowledge that Kip knew exactly what he needed to do next and the can of worms that he needed to open if he ever wanted to have a shot at things getting better again.

“I need…” Kip stopped, the confusion on Chuck’s face slowly melting into a more expecting look. Both of them were still clearly hesitant, Chuck not knowing what to expect out of him and Kip not being so sure how he was going to phrase this so it made even some sort of sense.

Just say it.

“I… I need you to kiss me.”

The silence that fell into the room felt like it was knocking all the remaining air out of Kip. The longer he looked at Chuck and the unreadable look lingering on his face after the words slipped out of Kip’s mouth, the worse he felt about everything. For once he was being honest about this entire situation and what he wanted out of it, and yet it felt like a worse mistake than anything he had lied to Chuck about so far.

He wanted this. He needed this. This was the trigger Kip had been so afraid to pull for so long now, but he knew that if he didn’t finally say those words, no matter the reaction, it would have terrible consequences for him. He was already suffering, the roots of his problem crawling deeper into his lungs every single day he put it off without even trying to make anything out of it. Kip was tired of it, he was suffering immensely because of it, he just needed to do something. Anything.

After what felt like forever of Chuck just staring at him, Kip was snapped out of his thoughts as Chuck took in a sharp breath, the only way Kip was able to describe his expression being polite confusion.

“You, uh… You what?”

Not sure if Chuck was just making sure or if he really hadn’t understood the statement, Kip bit his lower lip as he turned away from the other man. He inhaled slowly, preparing himself to say those words again. Kip did it once, he could do it again. It was a necessary step forward.

“I-I need. To kiss you. You to kiss me. So-something like that.”

As Chuck didn’t reply for a while, Kip stole a quick glance towards him, trying to gather an overview of the situation. Much to his surprise, Chuck looked like he was in deep thought for a second, as if he was pondering over the request. At least he wasn’t outright denying it from Kip, which in turn as he realized it, made his heart jump back into his throat.

The burning as Kip nervously waited for an answer was worse than the thorns poking inside of his lungs at the moment.

“Would that help? Make you feel better?”

Kip nodded almost instantly, the motion almost frantic, something he couldn’t control. Still clearly in his thoughts, Chuck nodded as well.

“I mean,” he muttered, a hand slowly reaching closer to Kip, the Brit’s focus turning on it with slightly widening eyes, “If… If it helps. I guess.”

Kip watched his hand stopping to hover close to him, slowly his own hand reaching for it. He could feel Chuck’s fingers gently wrapping around his hand, giving it a little tuck, an invitation to come closer. Kip followed suit, shifting over on the couch to slowly make his way to sit down right next to Chuck. For the first time since they had started doing this, for the first time since Chuck had started to spend the days over to keep him company. There had always been a cold, untouched gap between the two of them on the couch, but this was the first time it had been broken, filled, fixed.

And all it took was a small request that Kip should have been able to do in the first place, but it took him weeks and actual concern from Chuck to get to this point.

But there he was now, Chuck still gently holding his hand, running this thumb over his knuckles. A soft, still kind of unsure smile crossing his lips as he was looking Kip straight in the eyes. Chuck clearly wasn’t budging back on this, honestly much to Kip’s surprise, as his free hand slowly crept up to the Brit’s face, palm pressing against his cheek. Chuck’s hand was surprisingly cold against his flushed skin.

“…You sure?”

It was almost as if Chuck was asking that from himself more than Kip, but he pushed the thought aside, just nodding his head again. Without another word, Chuck leaned closer, finally closing the gap that had been antagonizing Kip these past few weeks without remorse, locking their lips together.

The kiss was awkward and hesitant at first, but slowly it felt more natural as they both seemed to relax into it. Soft and homey, but Kip could taste his own desperation in it despite all of it. He knew how badly he not only wanted, but needed this. While he could have joked that it was the matter of life and death, to him it was actually no joke, but merely the cruel reality he barely understood himself at all. Feeling Chuck’s lips finally against his, after the excruciatingly long amount of time of craving and needing nothing more than to taste him so desperately he was suffering from the withdrawals more and more every day, Kip’s mind went blank. He could feel Chuck close, hear his breathing, slowly allowing himself to enjoy it, running a thumb over Kip’s cheek.

Kip had been waiting for this moment for so long, craving for this so badly, that he needed more now that he finally had it, pushing the boundaries first as he found himself without a single coherent thought giving a small bite on Chuck’s lower lip, a silent, desperate request for a deeper kiss. A deeper meaning.

A request that was granted to him, but was also almost immediately and far too fast ripped away from him as Chuck suddenly jolted away, as if he had suddenly in the midst of all of this realized what he was doing and thought better of it.

Eyes opening as Kip felt the hand disappear from his face, he leaned slightly back, watching in emotions swimming in disappointment and confusion as Chuck’s eyes were suddenly on his phone again, the piece of tech buzzing on his lap, suddenly demanding his attention. Almost as if it was mocking Kip and how close he had finally gotten.

“So-sorry, I have to take this.”

Kip just nodded, feeling the body heat of the other man disappearing from around him as Chuck’s hand left his, grabbing a hold of the phone before he stood up, answering the sudden call. He could still salvage this, it wasn’t all lost. Chuck hadn’t denied him this, by the way he was acting it was obvious to Kip that this wasn’t just all in his head. Maybe the kiss had been brief, but there was compassion behind it, he was very gentle about it, there --

“What do you mean that was today?”

Kip’s eyes slowly traveled up to Chuck, watching the brunet run a hand over his face as he sighed. “Yeah I know, I know you need me there for that, just… I was kinda in the middle of something…”

The silence that followed that statement and the way Chuck couldn’t look back at Kip made a familiar lump climb its way back in his throat. Kip tried to cough it out quietly, not to attract attention to himself, just watching as Chuck stepped a little bit further away from him.

“I can be there in twenty minutes, I guess. …Alright, I’ll see you then.”

As he hung up the call, Chuck didn’t even need to say anything. He was sure Kip had heard most of it, and the apologetic eyes and the small smile he offered to him as he finally turned back towards the Brit really didn’t help the case.

“Sorry, I completely forgot we had a photoshoot to do today, I… I gotta go.”

Kip nodded his head, but remained silent as he stood up from the couch. At least this was a start, they were going somewhere. He had put at least part of his desires out there, for Chuck to reach out and react to, if nothing else. This was a beginning, hopefully for the better. Kip wasn’t sure how fast he was supposed to be feeling the effects of his love and affections being returned to him, but so far he was blaming the sick feeling in his throat on the sudden change of pace in the room rather than Chuck not returning his feelings like before.

Maybe he had read all of this wrong. Maybe the sickness had caught up with him just because he didn’t know this was mutual. That had to be it, right?

Kip walked him to the door, Chuck turning back to him again as he rested his hand on the door handle.

“Look, I’m really sorry I have to go, I just completely forgot about this. You know, with having to worry about you and all.”

Kip could feel a smile tucking the corner of his lips, allowing at least a part of it to show. As sad as he was having to watch Chuck walk away yet again without a resolution to this whole problem, at least there was hope. Chuck smiled back at him, leaning closer to press a quick little peck on Kip’s lips, catching the Brit off guard, leaving him looking back at him with wide eyes as Chuck opened the door, stepping outside.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow, alright?”

Kip could only nod before Chuck closed the door, leaving him standing there, heart racing and beating loudly between his ears. Kip leaned against the closed door, inhaling deeply before he sighed, the content smile on his lips only wiped away as he coughed softly, eyes shooting open to witness the handful of purple tinted rose petals he let out of his mouth.

No.

Chuck Taylor still didn’t love him.

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

“…Are you sure it’s him?”

Cassidy shrugged his shoulders a little. “I mean, who else could it be? Besides, he has photos of himself that he signs and hands out and a big board on the table with the name ‘Kip Sabian’ on it, so…”

Chuck sighed, running a hand over his face before rolling his eyes. “You could have led with that information, you know.”

Cassidy didn’t reply back to him, just observed the brunet on the couch through his sunglasses. “I thought you would have known. Aren’t you two friends or something?”

Chuck avoided looking directly back at him, trying to make it seem like the question didn’t sting. He hadn’t seen Kip since that day, he never opened the door when Chuck came over the following day or answered any of his calls or texts since. He had been living in complete darkness over what had actually happened with Kip, even Penelope refused to tell him anything apart from a general ‘he’s fine’ every time Chuck asked her something.

“I told you, that was months ago.”

Cassidy just nodded, stopping to observe Chuck as the other man just tried to focus back on lacing his boots. After a long, lingering silence the blond broke it as he spoke up again.

“Do you want to go see him?”

Chuck stopped, eyes slowly dragging up to Cassidy again. He seemed sincere in that question, and if Chuck was being honest, that had been the first thought in his mind since Cassidy had waltzed into the locker room with the news that Kip had been sighted inside the building. The premise seemed rather odd to him, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have put something like that past Kip. A silent man with a suit and a cardboard box on his head, doing a signing that hadn’t been advertised for anyone beforehand. Sounded like it was just down Kip’s alley, in some really weird way, to him.

“Is he still there?”

“Probably,” Cassidy shrugged again. “He seemed to be just setting up when we went into the cafeteria like twenty minutes ago. I doubt he has left yet.”

While he wasn’t quite sure how to take any of it, let alone how Kip was going to take it if he showed up, Chuck nodded a little, still a bit hesitant. Cassidy mirrored the movement, before nodding his head towards the locker room door, asking Chuck to follow him. Not that he didn’t know where the cafeteria was in the building, they had walked past it when they had entered earlier, but maybe his hesitance was on the surface enough that Cassidy thought taking the lead was going to make him regret this less. Make it easier for him.

Chuck followed Cassidy outside, tracking through the hallways for a moment before they arrived at their destination. It was extremely easy to spot the individual not belonging into the group of people in the big, bright, well-lit room, the man standing in the middle of it all by a large table messed up with multiple scattered photos around it, hands behind his suited back as he was observing the room through the eye holes poked on a box over his head.

Chuck swallowed thickly. It didn’t matter if he didn’t see his face, all that was enough for him to recognize him immediately, no matter how many months it had been since or how much things had changed between now and then.

He was so focused on reading the words on the front of the box that Chuck didn’t notice the eyes inside of it land on him. The distance made it a bit harder, sure, but the lights were bright enough and the dark circles surrounding the eyes made them pop for Cassidy to notice the stare at first, even if it wasn’t directed at him.

“Hey,” he muttered, carefully elbowing Chuck to the side to get his attention. “He sees you. I think you should at least go say hello.”

Blinking himself back to the situation, Chuck glanced at Cassidy on his side, the blond just shrugging at him a little. Maybe Chuck’s nervousness was obvious, maybe Cassidy quickly put two and two together from what Chuck had told him before about how their last meeting had ended, but he only sighed, once again leading the way towards the man in a suit and the box, Kip’s eyes never leaving Chuck as they approached. Chuck on the other hand tried to look at everything except him, until he was stopped to stand right in front of the other man he hadn’t seen in months until now.

Through the eye holes of the box Chuck could see his vacant stare just blankly staring back at him, saying it all without saying anything at the same time. Kip looked at him briefly, before providing a photo from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, pulling a marker seemingly out of nowhere along with it. He scribbled something quickly on the photo, handing it to Cassidy, and walked away without looking back or acknowledging either of them further.

Cassidy looked at the photo for a moment before handing it over to Chuck. It was an old promo picture of Kip, in his Superbad gear, with his face crossed over with a red marker and some messy text scribbled next to him.

‘Time changes us all. Embrace the change.’

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

You know, what's another good reason why Miguel’s canon theory is faulty?

It’s because in his quest to save the multiverse and preserve the ‘canon’, Miguel and his Spider Society keep breaking the ‘canon’.

I rewatched the movie, and something occurred to me… Miguel and Jess broke the Canon in like the first 30 minutes!

Because of Miguel, Jess and Vulture actions indirectly caused the loss of a canonical event: The death of Gwen's father, George Stacy. And because of that, Gwen’s father is not only alive, but he quit the police force, so he’s not a police captain anymore.

Not to mention, there is a very real implication that the Spider-Society is inadvertently preventing Spider-People from realising their own heroic destinies in their own universes.

Because the more I thought about it, I realized that the five months that Gwen spends with the Spider Society are five long months that her own home is unprotected by Spider-Woman…

Think about how many other worlds are in danger because their Spider-Man/Spider-Woman wasn't/isn’t around to protect it because they were with the Spider Society or they might have died on some mission with the Society.

Okay, I don't remember if I answered this, so let me start with this:

Miguel and Jessica didn't technically interrupt any canon when they appeared in Gwen's universe. Gwen is suppose to lose her father due to a battle against her own arch-nemesis.

Fun fact, in the comics the Vulture is the first villain we see her take; but Gwen say it: this isn't her vulture. She doesn't know this man.

There is no canon to interrupt, because that event is suppose to happen with her own arch-nemesis. Is this exact reason why I say that Pavitr couldn't have a canon event, Spot wasn't his nemesis; so I need to keep that consistently.

That being said: yeah, Gwen being a few months away from home is bad, but-

As far as I know, nowhere in the movie it says that Gwen has been away for 5 months, but I could be wrong, so if you or someone else knows when that was mentioned, please say so.

Regardless- I did find strange the idea of Gwen staying in the Society; after all, she is suppose to deal with her own canon events.

I never went too hard on this, because is one of those plot holes that are there because the story works better for it.

What I mean by this is that Gwen having be at stake her safe place after running for home is much, much interesting; that let's say, Gwen needing to deal with the consequences of the fallout and now she doesn't have a reason to keep her loyalty.

If you want a similar plot hole; in ITSV Gwen comes a week early in the movie...and the entire logic falls apart because of this.

As far as we know, there is no reason why Gwen came early unlike the others; despite being a week in this universe, she doesn't seem to be glitching more or to look closer to disappearing than the rest. Speaking of which- how did she got there? Spider-sense is about sensing danger, not detecting a new spidey that has yet to be bitten. To not say, how she could just get a room, be part of classes, and not only no one noticing there is no paperwork of her existence, she doesn't glitch in public AT ALL, after being there for a week?

Now, chances are you weren't familiar with this last issue; because is not the point. Establishing Gwen's and Miles' connection earlier is more important than all of this; the movie never brings attention to fact, which means is not relevant.

The reason I go hard about Pavitr not living a canon event, is that it is shown in camera to us, which means we are suppose to pay close attention.

Now, I know a lot of people would insist that a perfect story has no plot holes, and I am not going to argue if you don't like when the story has these loose ends.

But in my personal opinion? If it makes the story more interesting, and you don't need to bring attention to it, sometimes bending the rules a bit good.

Though, if I am honest, if I am correct about my predictions...then there is an aspect of the movie that could be a plot hole that I have an issue with.

[are-you-still-writing-that]

Mizo Middle Yandere Headcanons

Well, fuck me, I guess... Do you guys know how difficult it is to figure something like this out, if the characters are barely mentioned? Like, I´m really need a list of appearance for these...

Okay! Akkun was okay, we get to know him well enough in the beginning, like the first few chapters make him important to us. He is part of the motivation for Takemichi and really the one, that gives him his conviction. But his story kinda plays as „I´m doing it for my dead wife“, ya know. I don´t know myself how he got that trope instead Hina...

The rest only get defined beyond their introduction over a long while. Like yeah we know Takuya is kind of a wimp and Yamagishi is the smart one and Makoto is the pervert. Like, all of you can see, how these guys are clear tropes and even caricatures for these tropes, right? There is so much going on in the manga, that these guys easily get ignored.

But I tried..., I hope..., well... - It´s gonna be fine!

Atsuhi Sendo – Akkun

He definitely throws down when it comes to you. He was absolutely ready to stab and consequently kill Kiyomasa for messing with his friends

In conclusion he has a temper and is not willing to calm down, when he sees someone he loves getting hurt

Otherwise a pretty gentle guy → very sensitive

He kind of has a sense for when you´re unwell, can figure out your mood in general very well

Also pretty touchy, especially your hair and face → will scritch your head as if you´re a cat for as long as you let him

Definitely has a sense of asthetic and what looks good on you → will style you up sometimes

Hope you don´t mind blood, cause he will get really stabby when someone hurts you

He doesn´t enjoy it, at least he tells you that. The grin on his face, when he makes them beg for forgiveness with you says something different

But hey! He never once even raised his voice at you, so you´re pretty safe from him

On the other hand, he outright tells you that he will kill himself if you ever consider leaving him

Takemichi Hanagaki

(Technically you could find him on the big post → Here is the link: https://are-you-still-writing-that.tumblr.com/post/686716686356938752/yandere-tokyo-revengers-headcanons

(but you get something extra)

There is more acting from him involved than you would think

Kinda tends to exaggerate his whimpy attitude → the stubbornness doesn´t come from nothing

While he doesn´t look like it, he apparently knows how to fight, don´t worry I was surprised too when I realised that one

I also think that he is a lot more manipulative than one would think → with his attitude no one would suspect it, and considering his age (and somehow continued survival throughout it) he can´t be that much of an idiot

Gets obsessed with stuff awfully and kinda hilariously quickly

Kazushi Yamagishi

The brain of the group, who is aware of every gang and can recognize the top members easily

He collects information about you very easily → wants to know everything about you

It´s really childplay for him to get every last tidbit of trivia of you

Also capable of actually using the information that he gets → like he knows what makes you tick and everything and will use it to his advantage

His style definitely involves blackmail, because he can draw quick conclusions even with very little of actual information → he tends to be spot on as well

While he is a bit of an idiot, he is very knowledgeable about everything that he obsesses over

Will not only blackmail you but the people who get too close to you as well → is in the business of ruining someones life, when he needs to

Not at all physical with anybody, while he does hang of the shoulder of his friends occassionally, it´s something special with him, he doesn´t actually seek company out that much

Because of that, he doesn´t really tries to get any physical affection from you as well → Praise and Words of Affirmation are his favourite though and also hoe he expresses himself as well

Takuya Yamamoto

He is the gentlest of the bunch, the softest → not necessarily the least dangerous though, actually I think he is the one most likely to murder you

Very aware of his own appearance and demeanor and how he can use it to aovid suspicion

Will manipulate the hell out of you with that as well → Do you really believe that he did all that? C´mon you must be joking!

But really, he is a great liar! No one suspects it...

He has an avid interest in medicine and seems to help out in an apothecary sometimes, which is good to know → Also definitely makes him the type to poison you and care for you in the aftermath

You´re gonna be sick for like most of the time knowing him, and he´s always hanging around your bedside taking care of you

Probably some kind of power trip for him, to have you consistently at his mercy

Well, you got lucky. The other guy he poisoned is just dead. You he is still taking care of

Will never get loud, he is very soft in that regard, though he sometimes lets out biting insults, in general he is a bit demeaning. Almost verbally abusive, but with a saccharine tone

Definitely someone who loves to cuddle with you, just pulling you in and laying down with you

Makoto Suzuki

(Let´s make this short, mkay, not really comfortable with him)

So he definitely steals your stuff, like all the time, pens, clothes, food you already chewed on and actually wanted to finish, but he just takes it from your plate → nothing is safe around him

Also 100% gotten off to the stuff he managed to get from you → In general you´re often the leading star of fantasies

Handsy as fuck, litteraly as soon as you´re around him, it seems he loses all capabilities to keep his hands to himself → constantly touching

Worries often about you → will nurse you back to health if needed

[tiktaaliker]

anyways. here's my stupid color post about the guys i made up

Fane. he's not a mortal at all actually but im bringing him up here because he has a Mortal Disguise and it's incorporated into his normal design. most of his fur is like. orange and green and magenta and whatever but he has one Normal Leg. it's just brown. And when Mortals see Fane normally all the crazy colors are replaced by that brown color, so he ends up looking like a mostly solid brown with black and white spots to make him look like a normal guy and not. yknow. a sundog

tbh i want to redo rasputin's mortal design. i dont like it. his dragon design is cool and im keeping the changes in terms of patterns/extra feathers but that's not really what im discussing here so who give a shit about him

gazer's mortal design is almost entirely shades of red. when he gets dragon'd most of his patterns are the same but a lot of his stripes turn blue. as a mortal he's a pretty typical reptiid with the only "irregular" bit being his "hair"/mane that gets accentuated a ton when he gets dragon'd

Keikri is mostly black with a red splotch on her face. i typically consider white/black markings as free "neutrals". so keikri still falls firmly under the normal mortal color rules

Tansy is just like. greys and whites. but i tried keeping the greys more blue-toned.

Mentha is a bit of an oddball. she's like.... pink and orange and brown mostly, but the colors are all similar tones so i think it fits. but her WINGS have a touch of green because i based her design off of actual spiny flower mantis. but i might rule that as like.... an insectiid trait, to have "odd" colors specifically on the wings. and i think thatll work really well considering ive already established that insectiid-style clothing puts a lot of importance on wings and wing-patterns

Doc Deadly is a MAJOR exception in that he's still a mortal but he's like. fucked up from unethical bio-engineering experiments. so his actual natural pattern is literally just black and white but he's bonkers colors from the evil science shit

Gar is like. super normal in terms of a mortal. he's just a brown dog guy

Gigo is meanwhile just really funny to me. Gigo is a human person in a world of furries. but irregardless she's technically still just a normal mammid and doesnt have any wacky colors. she DOES have funny robot ears and a wing because i also think its REALLY funny if the one human in furry world was. a furry

living handsome has wacky colored clothing but at the end of the day his hair/fur is just. brown. and thats it. the only weird physical bit is his funky blue/red split left eye(s)

i think im going to redesign brutus at some point but he's like. a darker reddish brown as a mortal and gains much brighter/vivid markings as a demon along with the wings and horns

Bailey starts out as only being shades of brown, and the colors shifting to black, bright red, and a touch of yellow as a dragon. she's one of my favorite examples of mortal-to-dragon physical changes ive designed tbh

Khetzal never really had a true "mortal" iid appearance, but he's all pastels so its not SUPER obvious- but im mentioning him specifically here because mortals who meet him tend to immediately get the vibe that he's like. psychically intimidating. this is both because he's super fucking tall compared to normal mortals and because his coloring is just sliiiightly off form a typical iid to the point of being vaguely disconcerting but not enough to immediately be like. this guy isn't mortal. he is probably the closest thing to a non-iid mortal in the entirety of mortally coiled despite being a dragon. if that makes sense at all

Razar, in contrast to Bailey, is my favorite example ive made of irregular mutation expression, both in terms of phsyical characteristics (shark tail + ram horns + fur tufts + reptilian facial structure/heat pits) AND in color (mostly red but with different shades of yellow accents)

Lucky Shot is also an irregular, but he's ALSO an example of artificial colors, which is more common this late in the mortally coiled timeline. LS has purple feathers on his "wings," tip of the tail, and top of his head, but he also has dyed purple stripes on his arms, legs, tail, face, and ears! his teeeth and claws also have an artificial coating to make them look metallic

pre-undead Lungfish is a spotted brownish grey on white, perfectly normal iid colors. after dying, lungfish is brought back with a big shiny red throat/dewlap and tail which is NOT normal iid colors

meanwhile roupgaruke stays with normal iid coloring (brown fur with pinkish skin where exposed) because theyre specifically a revenant possessing an amalgam of two dead bodies that have been otherwise relatively unchanged. hence the normal colors

im just going to mention that blacktar isn't relevant because i dont have a mortal form designed for them mostly because it isnt relevant. their undead form is literally just swamp goop in the shape of a lizard

Mike/Vikteri is also a funny case in that he's FAKING being undead, and part of that is dying parts of his fur bright red in order to fake the physical changes of undead lol. id also say that his teeth + horn were also altered to be red, but probably via magic. but either way he's naturally just all black and greys/silvers.

Garte is just. tan. and Roanmor is grey. thats it. very simple very typical iid stuff. they both display the irregular mutation but it doesnt affect their coloring at all.

Sebastian is also kinda fun in that he has much brighter markings than most mortals, but he's still firmly just blue and that's IT. Id say that aquiids tend to have more vivid colors than non-irregular mamids and reptiids so this is also pretty normal.

Cahsmere is also normal in that he's mostly just red with a dull orange underbelly. very normal stuff

going thru this also made me realize a few patterns that i didnt even realize was happening but i like a lot actually

reds and browns are MUCH more common than cool colors (with the exception of blue-tinted greys). green and blue are p much exclusively limited to aquiids or insectiids. i dont technically stick EXCLUSIVELY with natural colors/patterns but i think this general rule makes the colorations of my guys feel more "realistic" to me

mortals also generally dont have super bright/vivid colors. its a lot of dull or dark shades, with the only exceptions really being small splotches or iids expressing the irregular mutation.

the cuttings present on the mortal coil have like.... not great disguises, probably because they don't quite get how mortals/iids look like normally. Longliner has relatively normal colors for an aquiid but its actual body plan is EXTREMELY fucked up. Lure doesnt bother for the most part to look mortal, but its "mortal' disguise is still off in that he fucks up the coloring (it's meant to be a mamid, but the fur is dark green) (yes i know he's possessing a guy but bates didn't actually look like that before. lure changed how he looks physically. and yes im ruling this because the design i made for lure's disguise form is like the only exception to all my patterns). Lunker is by far the closest just because it was TRYING to figure out mortals but even then they settle for looking off because its trying to present itself as a god and not a mortal

all these patterns and rules have been subconsciously driving how i design my guys depending on whether theyre a mortal vs a sundog or whatever other thing they are. like sometimes its intentional but for a lot of things It Was Not. and i think a lot of the designs i struggled with/still struggle with were because they dont fit The Rules

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X GN/NB-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - A Day With Alastor

A/N – Well, it took a while but I finally felt up to writing a bit. There’s still a lot of sadness at home right now, but I’ll try to keep writing.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

TAG-LIST: @x-uno @froggybich @bubbleboy132 @mythics-world @concentratedconcrete

FEMALE VERSION HERE

MALE VERSION HERE

You woke up in Angel’s bed. The previous night, you two had laughed, danced, ordered pizza and stayed tucked away in the safe haven of his bedroom. In that time, Angel had been reminded of how much his life had improved recently, and how precious his new friends were, and you had allowed yourself to relax, once again reverting to your previous human appearance. Yet, after revealing how you had died twice in a night, the change to look human felt more like a choice rather than the repression of painful emotions; you still had no love for your Demonic appearance, but you felt it wouldn’t be so terrible if it was seen among friends, or if you wanted a break from the low thrum of energy it took to keep your human façade in place.

You groaned tiredly as you pushed yourself up, never having been a morning person, and upon looking through the slats of the shaded window, you saw that it was very early indeed.

Angel had already left, and you made a mental note to call him in the evening when you knew he would be done with work. Despite the fun respite the two of you had shared, Angel would undoubtedly have a terrible day as Valentino’s plaything.

Stretching, you got up and headed downstairs for breakfast, surprised when you didn’t see anyone at the breakfast bar. Technically, the breakfast bar was just the regular bar, but since Husk typically spent his mornings sleeping in, everyone had adopted it as the breakfast bar and so there were always boxes of cereal on it until noon.

Thinking about it, you realised that since Charlie and Vaggie weren’t there to greet you, Angel Dust had likely talked them through the previous night and reassured them that everything was going to be okay. It had undoubtedly been a tearful reunion for Charlie. Angel Dust would have laughed and played it off like it was nothing, though he would have secretly been touched that Charlie cared enough to cry over someone like him, and Vaggie would have been left to care for Charlie and steer her in the direction of her daily duties.

Absently, you reached for a box and began pouring yourself a bowl of Glutton-O’s. There was a thunk in the bowl as a dead cockroach pinned to a cheap ring of plastic fell into it. You hummed at Nifty’s idea of a breakfast prize, though you didn’t scoff at it. Instead, you opted to wear it, just in case the psychotic little maid was around. If she was, you would make her happy, and if she wasn’t, you could always throw it away when you were far from the Hotel.

Despite claiming the prize, you opted not to eat the tainted cereal, getting up to leave instead.

“Ah, (Y/N), good morning,” Alastor greeted you energetically as if he had only just spotted you when in reality he had been waiting patiently for you to awaken and head downstairs.

“Morning Alastor,” You replied warmly, used to his sudden appearances.

“I didn’t know you were back in our wonderful home. Tell me, was it trouble in Paradise with Lucifer?” His head lurched to the side and his grin became more malicious as he mentioned his rival’s name, though he was back to his default expression a moment later when you replied.

“Christ on a stick, Al. You make it sound like we’re a couple or something.” You shook your head, chuckling, “No, everything’s fine between me and Charlie’s dad. I just came over to visit last night. I’ll be going soon though.”

“Going? Oh my. Well, I can’t let you go without first ensuring you’ve had an enchanting day out. How would you feel about joining me on my morning constitutional?”

You smiled and got up, straightening your crumpled clothes. “Sure, I could do with a walk.”

“Wonderful!” Alastor stamped his cane to the floor, and your outfit transformed into one more fitting for a trip to Cannibal Town.

“Oh,” You hummed, glancing down at the new outfit. You weren’t offended; Alastor liked his travelling companions to look their best and to be honest, you had needed a fresh change of clothes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my dear,” He replied brightly.

Then, Alastor offered you his arm, a rare gesture seeing as he didn’t liked to be touched, and after escorting you out of the hotel, the two of you separated, walking side by side.

You had been to Cannibal Town only twice in the past. The first time was because that was where you arrived upon your death. The second time, you were running from the carnage caused by some loan sharks wherein you had been caught in the crossfire. At the time, you had been dressed so poorly that the inhabitants of the elegant town had chased you to the border, trying to take a bite out of you.

Since then, you hadn’t been back. However, seeing as Alastor was escorting you and since you were now dressed to match the high standards Cannibal Town held, you felt safe in going there.

All those who passed by you and Alastor stopped to bow or tip their hats in due reverence to the Overlord.

“So…” You started, “Is this your territory?”

Alastor threw back his head and laughed, “Ha-ha-ha, my territory? No, no. This wonderful patch of Hell belongs to my good friend, Rosie. Now there’s a fine Lady, if you’ve ever met one.” He hummed happily, “Indeed, they don’t make them like her anymore. I’d introduce the two of you, but I have it on good authority that she is currently away attending business.”

With that, Alastor led you to some of the finer boutiques of the Town. He snapped his fingers and the attendees rushed to his side, crowding him, and pushing you out somewhat. You shrugged your shoulders and began looking around at the many wonderful clothes surrounding you.

You had seen old films wherein boutiques like this once existed, with attendants and fine boxes tied with perfectly curled ribbons. Until now, they had seemed to be a thing of the past, but one good thing about Hell was that the past was all around you, and should you want a taste of something more modern, you could always catch up with a bit of Vox-tech, ensuring the best of both worlds.

You heard the sharp static screech that meant Alastor was offended and turned to find him gesturing at you.

The salespeople who previously crowded him were suddenly surrounding you.

“Alastor, what’s going on?” You asked uncertainly.

“Well, my darling,” He grinned devilishly, “Call this my treat. It’s rare that I have someone travel with me so willingly and I do find it ever so nice to have a passion project these days. So, these fine people are ready to bow to your every whim. Clothes, pearls, a bottle of the finest Champagne, you name it and they will bring it to you. In fact-” Alastor clapped his hands lightly and suddenly a tiny imp rushed to his side, struggling under the weight of the ice bucket he held above his head.

Alastor waited as another hired imp hurried over to pour two flutes of Brut Imperial Moet & Chandon Champagne, handing one glass to Alastor and forcing the other into your hand.

Alastor took a sip and smacked his lips together, eliciting a satisfied sigh, “Ah, 1911, a fine vintage. So, a new wardrobe then?”

“Oh, Alastor, I- I couldn’t,” You said sheepishly as a Cannibal Tailor began taking your measurements, holding a tape measure against your leg.

You tried to walk back to Alastor but were restrained when the tailor hooked the tape around your waist.

“Nonsense, I insist.” Alastor chuckled.

“No, really. I didn’t come here to get anything from you.”

“Exactly! You don’t want anything from me, and that’s precisely why you shall have everything. I do ever so enjoy gifting my friends, especially those humble enough to try and deny me my eccentricities.”

You tried to argue further, but it quickly became an exercise in futility. No matter what happened, you would not be able to convince Alastor to change his mind. So, you gave in, and in doing so, you ended up having one of the best days of your afterlife.

That day, you felt like you were a part of a movie montage. You were rushed about into changing rooms to try on several outfits tailored to you, your face was peppered with makeup, attendants were constantly by your side, gushing over you and offering mimosas or whatever else your heart desired (though, you avoided the finger sandwiches filled with actual human fingers, or any other food, seeing as you were afraid of what might be in it.)

Overall, you knew that this kind of attention would be too much if you were constantly plied with it, but for a short while, it was fun, and you were happy to let yourself be spoiled.

Finally, Alastor decided he had given you enough and offered to take you out for afternoon tea, which you happily agreed to as long as there were some non-cannibal options.

Alastor rested a hand over his heart as if offended, “Oh, you non-cannibals don’t know the kind of flavours you are missing, but if you insist, I promise to take you to one of the tamer venues in town.”

He waved the attendants away, leaving your new belongings to a Demon who would have them transported directly into your room.

When the two of you sat down outside of the Insani-Tea tea house that overlooked the pavilion in the central plaza, Alastor sighed contentedly. He picked up his cup and swirled it around airily, taking a look at the scenery as he changed the topic from the previous ones about the hotel, “This has been quite a lovely day if I do say so myself.”

You smiled happily, resting your hands around your tea cup and relishing the gentle warmth, “It has. Thank you, Alastor. I needed a nice day like this.”

“Hm? So, life with our all-powerful Satan hasn’t been all you imagined.”

You chuckled as Alastor caught your eye, “Well, it was all Charlie’s idea, and you know what she’s like when she gets a thought into her head.”

“Indeed. A very determined young lady.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“You’re not happy, then?”

You took a moment to contemplate the question, “Honestly? I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in a very long time. It’s… hard sometimes to be in such a new place when I felt so at home in the hotel, but I think that Charlie might be on the right track when it comes to Lucifer.

Granted, her methods are… Well, she’s a real ballbuster when it comes to her ideals on friendship and the like, but I think that if her father could see what she’s trying to do and make a connection with people like us then he would see that Hell isn’t just one big punishment and that he and his family did manage to build something sort of good here.”

At the mention of Sinners as a Collective, Alastor’s grin became darker and more sinister in nature, as if he didn’t approve of your placement of him and the other Sinners on the same level, though, distracted as you were, you missed his disapproval and sense of superiority. He however didn’t miss the way your smile softened when you mentioned Lucifer’s success.

It wasn’t love. Of that, Alastor was certain, but if he nudged you in the right direction, you could probably fall for that blonde idiot, and if that happened, and if Lucifer somehow also found feelings for you, Alastor could use you to manipulate Lucifer.

Like all of Alastor’s plans, this would take time and a lot of work, but the reward would be great. With time, he would be the new ruler of Hell, and that was a day he sorely looked forward to.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that our darling Charlie was right in her hunch,” He said genially. “You should continue to work with Lucifer. I’m sure it would be beneficial for everyone.”

 “We’ll see,” You agreed, taking a sip of your tea.

Lucifer paced back and forth in the Pride Parlor where you usually spent your afternoons. Where were you? You had been missing all day.

He folded his arms tightly against his chest as he paced. Had he upset you the night before? What was he thinking? Of course he had! You had told him how you died, and now… Now, what? Had you run away? Should he call Charlie?

Lucifer didn’t know what to do. He didn’t own you, and while you had claimed him as your friend, he had never reciprocated in kind.

The sound of the door opening caught Lucifer’s attention and he looked up hopefully, but it was only Spick closely followed by Span, each of the snakes holding feather dusters and getting to work cleaning the room. Lucifer watched as Span dusted the fireplace mantle, his eyes travelling upward to a portrait of him and Lilith together; it was one of the earlier pieces he had commissioned from an awful Sinner, Salvador Dali; the artist’s punishment for selling his soul to an Overlord had been that whenever he was commissioned, he wasn’t allowed to paint his beloved surrealism art and could instead only paint portraits.

In the painting, Lucifer was staring intently at Lilith, admiring her for everything she was or ever would be since her potential was limitless to him. She however was looking straight ahead, a demure smile upon her face.

When Lucifer thought of you, he couldn’t help also thinking of Lilith. Granted, you and he were only friends, but Lilith had also disappeared and now she had been missing for seven lonely years. Lucifer would hate to think that he had driven the only other person to live with him since then away too.

Anxiously, he twisted his wedding ring from side to side, feeling more miserable than ever.

“Hey boys,” Your cheery voice greeted as you entered the parlour.

Lucifer spun around to find you eagerly smushing Spick and Span’s faces like they were puppies or something equally as pettable.

“(Y/N)… You’re back,” He murmured quietly.

Mistaking his quietness for indifference towards you, you wilted somewhat, “Yeah, but I can uh- I can leave again if that’s what you want.”

“What I want?” Lucifer repeated listlessly. He held up his hand as if he was going to touch you, but let it drop again, “I’m… I’m going to my workshop.”

You nodded, your brows furrowing at the strange exchange, “Okay, I’ll- I’ll be in my room.”

Lucifer passed by you to leave the parlour first, then he seemed to change his mind, if only for a moment.

“It’s good to have you back,” He said softly before heading out.

You smiled to yourself, relieved. “It’s good to be back.”

You thought that Lucifer hadn’t heard you, yet as he walked to his workshop, a small smile reached his lips; it had been a long time since he’d considered anyone new to be a friend.

[galvanizedfriend]

Tagged by the lovely @morningstargirl666 to post an older fic. I was in doubt of what to put here, so decided to go with a snippet of Pendulum because I'm currently working on it, and it's technically maybe my oldest fic. First version of it was written for a different fandom, even before I was into KC. 🤷‍♀️

Tagging @definedareasofuncertainty, @howlingmoonrise, @livingdeadblondequeen, @austennerdita2533 and anyone else who might want to! Consider yourselves tagged.

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It's 9:47 in the morning when Caroline boards the train.

Klaus watches from his seat, his lips involuntarily curling into a smile. He knows the reason behind Caroline's panting and slightly disheveled appearance - flushed cheeks, damp clothes, wind-tousled hair - is that there are exactly two minutes and 26 seconds before the train is scheduled to depart. She was running late, almost missed it. She is always late. That is one of the things that never changes.

He can't tell how long it's been since the last time he was here, not in a way that an ordinary mind might be able to grasp. Days and months and years are too little a scale for Klaus. Months and years get blurred together so easily; it's impossible to keep track. He prefers to count in lifetimes. Makes more sense.

It's been fifteen lifetimes since he last watched this exact scene unfold before him, but the details of it remain crisp and clear, like it was just yesterday. It's been burned into his mind with excruciating precision. He recalls the little twitch of irritation on Caroline's lips, the pinch between her eyebrows, the indignity of the curse she mutters under her breath.

Nothing torments her quite like being made to lose the reins of control. Disorder is the ban of her existence. Personally, Klaus thinks she still looks as graceful as ever, certainly more than most people, even in a rare moment of disarray. He's never mentioned it to her before, however, and he certainly won't start now - for many reasons, most of which are just terribly heartbreaking, but the main one being that Klaus finds it fascinating to see her like this, untidy, not completely put-together, unaware that she's being observed. 

There's magic in this moment. It's absolutely glorious in all its imperfections. It's the single most precious moment of Klaus' entire existence. He wouldn't change a thing about it.

It's a lot like seeing a movie he's already watched a thousand times, but not in a while, and yet somehow can still recall every scene, every line of dialogue, every tiny little detail. It starts playing in his head the exact second she crosses into the train car, and he gets instantly caught in the familiarity of the old script. He can narrate what Caroline will do even before she has decided to do it herself.

She will comb a hand through her damp hair, fruitlessly trying to fix some of the mess, before giving up with a frustrated huff when her fingers catch on a particularly nasty tangle. Then she will fish her train ticket out of the pocket on the right side of her overcoat, check the number on it, and lift her head to look around and situate herself. Once she confirms she didn't accidentally board the wrong car in her desperate haste, she will take a step forward, lips slightly parted while her eyes roam the rows of seats, searching for hers among the numbers marked on the above panel.

It'll take her about ten seconds to locate it, which grants Klaus just enough time to face away and pretend he hadn't been paying rapt attention, dying a little bit on the inside as the woman of his life - of all his lives - walks down the train aisle to occupy the spot exactly in front of him. A small, narrow table is the only thing separating the two of them, but the gap feels impossibly larger. A gap the size of fifteen lifetimes, stretching between them like a rift that only he can see.

Klaus sucks the air in through his nose in a failed attempt to keep his heart from punching so violently against his ribcage. It has been a minute, and pretending that being away from her for so long hasn't been a slow death is harder than he thought it would be.

When their eyes meet - casually for Caroline, anything but for Klaus - she offers a smile to the stranger in front of her. Nothing if not polite, his Caroline. Miss Mystic Falls through and through.

Klaus' smile is discreet, but full of warmth. In different times, she would've instantly recognized it as an oddity. He's not a warm person, quite the opposite. But she doesn't know him, has no idea that she's an exception to a rule that's only gotten worse since the last time they met.

There's a possibility that his knowing grin will seem awkward to her - maybe too familiar, maybe just plain creepy - but it doesn't matter. Not this time, anyway. Klaus won't be sticking around, so whether she's thrown by his behavior or not won't make a difference. This time, he'll just be another face on a train ride that won't stand out to her for any reason other than how exceptionally annoyed she is. Just another unremarkable stranger to cross her path. In a few days, or maybe even hours, this random encounter will be completely forgotten, his face blurred into insignificance, obliterated from her mind as all trivial, unimportant things are. It will be as though it never happened.

If he says the bitter truth of that doesn't make him feel a bit of a sting somewhere, he'll be lying. But it is what it is, and Klaus has had several lifetimes to get used to their Shakespearean tragedy: the poignant poetry of this casual meeting on the 9:50 am train to Cardiff, and how it always, always changes everything, one way or another.

Klaus has been through all the existing steps of grief, and then some. Denial, anger, depression, disappointment, white hot rage. It sometimes comes in waves; other times all at once. Acceptance has never really stuck, but he was forced to learn how to soldier through it all. He didn't have a choice. He never has a choice. At last, he learned how to cope - not by making peace with it, but by walking away. 

Klaus has learned the hardest possible way how to relent before the things he cannot change, even if it kills him. And it usually does. There are forces in this universe that are stronger and more unyielding than even the love he has for Caroline Forbes, although it certainly doesn't feel like that should be possible. Life - or rather, death - has proved him wrong.

It’s been too long, and he just had to see Caroline again. One last time.

Klaus is here to say goodbye. This time, for good.

[decaf-mother]

"The Canine"

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Same universe as Stitched Hearts and Vodka Soaked Memory. Takes place after Kitty has healed from the events of Even When I Doubt You.

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Leon S. Kennedy x F!Reader

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Important: Kitty is technically my OC however it is written as if you are her so it's still an x reader, her appearance isn't described, Kitty is bisexual and that is sometimes mentioned when I write her.

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Warnings: A bit of fluff, Kinda Angsty?, Gun Mention, Introduction of another OC

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"Aww, Leon you were so cute! Look at your smile!"

You ran across some old pictures of Leon, back in his Rookie era. He of course quickly swiped the photo from your hands.

"Ok ok- that's enough."

There was a faint hint of a rosey tint along his cheeks, of course you couldn't help but smirk slightly at that fact.

"Still cute."

He choked on nothing at that comment and awkwardly looked away, placing the photos back into the drawer.

"We have work to do."

••

"Smells like 6 week roadkill in here."

You murmured while walking down a darkened hall, glancing cautiously around each corner.

"Are you sure their-"

Train of thought interrupted by a cabinet falling over, a large figure in a black jacket darting by.

"FOUND EM'!"

"Wait a second I'm on my way!!!"

"Too late their on the run! I got it!"

Leon tried to protest and hurry to your location, worry building in the pit of his stomach at the fact you were chasing someone dangerous by yourself.

You're capable- he knows that.

But he doesn't want to lose you, he doesn't want to risk that. Not again.

A loud crash makes it way to his ears, chest tightening and pushing himself to go faster. Rounding the corner he spots you, a metal cabinet on the floor and you aiming your gun at a tall brunette man.

There's an unnatural tension hanging in the air, a feeling of 'I know you' lingering between you and the man.

"Been a long time, eh?"

A grin plastered to the strangers face, Leon was uneasy at the fact he noticed you tense up.

The man was attractive in his own right, a thick southern drawl and tanned skin with thick wavy dark brown hair, his eyes a deep green and a pretty good jawline.

A deep scar ran across his nose and along his cheek bone, he probably was somewhere around 6'6 in height.

He was aware of Leon's presence but his eyes never left you.

"You motherfucker..."

You murmured while lowering your gun, a chuckle leaving the man.

"Kitty, who the hell is that?"

"An old acquaintance.... Meet Canine."

Canine places a hand on his chest feigning being hurt by your cold words.

"Just an acquaintance??? That hurts."

You rolled your eyes at his antics and Leon was only even more confused by the interaction, there truly was a lot about your past he didn't know.

••

After Canine was secured and brought in- because apparently the man had ties to some Bio-Warfare.

You sat in awkward silence with Leon at dinner, you had asked him to come with you because you knew this was his favorite restaurant- and you had some explaining to do.

"So, what was that?"

He finally spoke up in between bites, his eyes focusing on yours as you took a deep breath.

"A ghost."

His brows drew together slightly at your answer.

"Can you please just-"

"I've had to do a lot of questionable things, Leon. I've also been betrayed a lot and had information used against me."

His gaze softened slightly as he then avoided your eyes, simply turning his attention to his plate again.

"I'm sorry. I just can't tell you- not yet at least. You understand, right?"

He wanted to say yes but he's been involved with people who keep secrets before, he's not exactly a fan of it. Not knowing exactly what you did.

All that came to mind was his past experiences with shady people. He wanted to believe you had only good intentions but- the fact you've been hiding so much and he didn't have a clue.

It made him uneasy.

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{Did I create a new character? Yes. He's my baby as well and I love him. He's also a bit of an ass.}

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{Mysteries-}

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{@sofasoap }

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{More Content}