#There Is A Pattern and A Type He Has and Its Killing Him To Realize it.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Prey

Slasher AU. Prefacing the fic with the knowledge that there's no batman in this au. I was thinking about Scream and those kinds of horror films when I wrote this, so, all the warnings that come with that.

CW for murder, some knife play, predator/prey dynamics, and sex under manipulation. Smut written with AFAB reader in mind. 18+ MDNI ~3.7k words

Gotham is known for its crime, known for its filth and grime. So when you started dating Jason Todd, you were floored by how good he was. Attentive, sweet, kind, and always so soft with you.

He's the antithesis of everything you're used to, constantly going against your more pessimistic expectations. Your boyfriend is a rare, treasured comfort in the city that's been nothing but rotten to you.

It helps that he's nothing but a gentle giant. Sure, he can scare off anyone looking for trouble while you're walking the street, but he's harmless. If he wasn't born and raised in crime alley, you'd assume he'd have no idea what to do with his size and strength.

He assures you he's more than capable of swinging the bat you keep by your bed if anyone ever broke in. You believe him, of course, but it doesn't completely soothe the knot of anxiety in your stomach. Not when Red Hood is stalking the streets.

It's a name that's been haunting Gotham for over half a year. He's become Gotham's most prolific serial killer in nearly no time at all. He has no pattern, no specific victim type. All the GCPD seems to know is that he targets 'the rot' and wears a distinctive, blood-red mask.

He scares you. It's not that you think that you're on his intended targets list, it's just– his victims, you knew an uneasy amount of them.

The creep at your work? Found dead with a lengthy, bloodstained list of previous convictions.

The offputting guy that liked to lurk at the coffee shop you love? Murdered with the names of his victims carved into his body.

The stranger in your apartment building who stared a little too much? Killed and left with his eyes plucked out in some parking lot.

Jason said it was just a coincidence, that there was no need to worry when it was just criminals and predators being targeted. He sounded so confident, so sure of this fact that it was easy to brush off the unsettling fear that seemed to travel to your spine every time you heard Red Hood's name.

But now? You wish you had taken the gut feeling more seriously.

You weren’t even supposed to be home. You were supposed to be at work. Safe. Calmed by the people around you. But your manager had double scheduled you and your coworker, and, in the moment, you had been more than happy to take the opportunity to spend more time with your boyfriend.

Jason was nowhere in sight when you had come home. It had been quiet, almost eerie. You assumed he was napping, getting some well-deserved rest. You knew how hard he works. You were almost giddy, at the thought of surprising him, at curling up in your soft, warm bed and surrounding yourself with your boyfriend's arms and scent.

You cracked open your bedroom door slowly, carefully, not wanting to disturb him. But it’s not the sight of your handsome, sleeping boyfriend you’re greeted with. It’s something far worse.

Your brain doesn’t quite make the connection between the imposing figure tugging on a pair of leather gloves and the serial killer prowling the streets at first. But as your gaze trails up the stranger to where his face should be, you recognize the mask that's been on the edge of your nightmares for months.

Red Hood. Red Hood is in your room, and he’s picking up a knife off your bed to shove it into a sheath on his hip. You have the chilling realization that your boyfriend is nowhere in sight. Panic starts to close your throat. He could be dead. Jason– your Jason– could be dead.

You think you make a noise at the thought. Or maybe you step back in horror. You’re not completely sure. But what you do know, is that you’ve done something to get him to notice your presence. Red Hood whips his head towards you. He breathes out your name. And you turn on your heel to run.

You dart through your apartment, vision tunneled with one purpose. Get away. You have to get to the door, have to get help, have to hope that your boyfriend is still clinging to life and that you’ll be fast enough to save him.

Your heart threatens to pound out of your chest, your hands feel clammy, and all you want to do is cry, but you have to run. You have to. He’s right behind you. You can hear his heavy boots hit the ground with every step, and it only serves to make skin grow cold and your spine tingle.

You throw open your front door, opening your mouth to scream and beg someone to come help.

You don’t get the chance. The door slams shut in front of you, your only hope for escape barricaded closed by a large hand pressing into the wood above your head. You try to yell, try to shriek and make a commotion, but leather presses harshly against your lips before you're able to make a sound.

It’s muscle memory, built on self-defense training Jason always insisted you practiced, that you’re able to elbow him in the gut and bite down on his hand. He grunts, shifting his hold on you. You find enough space to spin around and shove him. You think he steps back more at your audacity than at your strength.

It doesn’t matter why, all that matters is that it gives you an opportunity to sprint past him, to try to make it to the fire escape. He must find your attempt cute, because he huffs out a laugh as he lunges for your fleeing form.

You cry out as he tackles you to the ground, maneuvering you as you both fall. The impact of the ground is somewhat softened by his chest, but it dazes you enough that you don’t put up a strong fight when he flips you to your back.

Seeing him up close knocks the air from your lungs more than the fall did. His mask gives away no emotion, only his slightly labored breathing and body heat gives away that he’s even human. Even as terror sets itself into every fiber of your being, there’s a brief clarity in your panicked thoughts.

There’s no scent of blood on him. There’s a chance, there’s a hope, that Jason is okay. There’s a chance he wasn’t home when Red Hood broke in. There’s a chance he’s safe. And maybe, maybe Red Hood won’t hurt you. You’re not exactly good, but you’re not evil, not someone he would target.

The thought calms you enough that you start to struggle, if you could just survive until Jason gets here– the thought is cut short when something shiny catches your vision. In your frenzied state, you’d failed to notice Red Hood unsheathing his knife.

You freeze, and he lowers the tip of the knife to rest it at the base of your throat. He hasn't said anything since he caught you, hasn’t given you a hint of what he wants from you.

You wish he would, wish he would give you anything to latch onto. Tears threaten to prick your eyes as he settles his weight on your hips, hunching over as if to get a better look at your petrified face.

Your heart only beats fast when he starts to trail the knife down to catch the collar of your shirt. You can feel how sharp the blade is, how he would only need to press a little harder to make you bleed. The idea makes you whimper softly, unable to hide how vulnerable you are.

He catches the noise, head tilting like he finds it interesting, and he pulls the knife down your sternum until the fabric of your shirt starts to stretch and tear.

You choke on nothing, desperately grabbing at his wrist to try and stop him from ripping your shirt in two, “Wait– please,” you start to beg, anything to save yourself from this. He can’t– you can’t let him– not when you know Jason will be the one to find your body.

He shushes you, low and soothing, and even your best efforts doesn’t stop his steady hand from tracing a line down your body with the knife, “Don’t be scared, baby. I thought you liked it when I got rough?”

His voice. His voice. You know that voice. It chills you to the core, widens your eyes, and sends you spiraling to a fact you never once considered, “Jason?”

He laughs, the sound distorted by the mask and drags the knife back up your skin to rest over your heart, “I knew you’d get there. You’ve always been too smart for your own good.”

It’s not fear that makes your body shake anymore, but anger as you snap at him, “Are you kidding me? Is this some kind of stupid prank?”

“It's not a prank baby,” he says, so plain he may as well be talking about the weather, “I’m Red Hood.”

You blink, shocked to silence as your anger fades to unease. You can only imagine what he looks like right now. Eyes dark, face set with a mockery of a smile, and nothing like the Jason you know.

You swallow thickly, trying to reconcile the man you love, and the murderer bracing most of his weight on your body, “But– Jason– you wouldn’t– killing people– that’s not right,” you finish lamely.

The air seems to grow thick with tension at your stuttered words, and he raises the knife. You scream and squeeze your eyes shut as he brings it down without hesitation.

Pain doesn’t come, but a thunk by your ear does. You open your eyes and turn your head, the shining blade is embedded into the wood by your face, so close that your eyelashes nearly brush it when you blink.

The sight is enough to make tears fill your eyes, and any semblance of safety you felt was quickly ripped away by the glimmering knife.

Jason starts to shush you again, catching your chin gently with his gloved hands to turn your face back to him. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt ya. I would never. You just don’t understand yet. The people I kill- they aren’t really people, baby. They’re monsters, a cancer to the city. I’m making things better, helping.”

He sounds like he really believes that, and it makes you want to cry harder, “Baby,” he coos, “Don’t be scared. I’ve always kept you safe. How I do it? Well, it doesn’t really matter, does it? I’m not asking you to get your hands dirty.”

You flinch when he starts to wipe your tears, and he tuts, one hand leaving your face to lift his bright red mask to the top of his head in an attempt to calm you.

There’s no pretending it isn’t him. Every blemish you’ve come to memorize, every fleck in his eyes, the quirk of his eyebrow. It’s him. Jason is Red Hood, and Red Hood has you pinned to your apartment floor.

“Better,” he asks gently, leaning down to kiss away the tracks of tears on your cheeks. It only serves to scare you more. Your boyfriend, he seems nearly unrecognizable now.

“Please,” you beg again. You’re not sure what you’re asking for. For him to let you go? For him to tell you it’s all a sick joke? For him to stop killing?

He offers you none of these, only rambles idly as he presses kiss down to your jaw, to your throat, “C’mon, baby. I’ve always taken care of you, haven't I? This doesn’t change anything. I still love you. You’re still my partner, my everything. I’m just making things better for you, for everyone.”

His hands start to trace the bare skin of your sides, pushing aside your torn shirt, “Let me remind you how good we are, baby. It’ll make everything better.”

He punctuates his little speech with a roll of his hips, and it draws a gasp from your throat.

It’s so familiar, something you couldn’t help but crave from him. But it feels tainted now, almost wrong. You grab at his shoulders, half to push him away and half to find comfort in pulling him closer as raw panic lacing your features.

He grins at you, as if he can read your every thought and internal struggle. You open your mouth to protest, to remind him and yourself that this is wrong. That even if the people he kills are evil, vile, and twisted, that doesn’t make him right.

Jason doesn’t seem interested in hearing your arguments, though, and he ducks his head to capture your mouth in a passionate kiss.

He nips at your lips, traces your tongue with his, and leaves you panting for air when he finally pulls away. “There you go,” he praises, running his thumb over your spit-stained mouth, “No need to think so hard about it.”

Later, when you’re sticky with sweat and exhausted and laying on his chest, you’ll berate yourself for giving in.

But in the moment? He knows exactly what you like, knows exactly how to get your head to go foggy, and lose your inhibitions. He’s been in your bed for months, learned every little thing that makes you tick with frightening accuracy, and he uses every bit of that knowledge to convince you to give in.

He nips at your pulse, fingers tugging at the fabric of your pants. He’s heavy and warm on top of you, and his murmured praises and gentle touches are almost enough to distract you from the knife driven into the floor by your head.

You dig your nails into his shoulders and somewhere between him sucking a line of bruises to your chest and him hiking your thigh over his hip, what’s left of your clothes is thrown strewn and crumpled onto the floor.

The wood is cold against your back, but it’s the look in his eyes that makes you shiver. He’s completely dressed, even as he has you naked and exposed underneath him. And his gaze, his gaze is almost predatory as he devours the sight of you.

You don’t know how you never noticed it before, the way his eyes darken like he wants to eat you alive, like he wants to keep you soft and spread open for him forever.

It makes your throat tighten, nearly sends you back into a state of sick terror, but then he dips his head, and nips the shell of your, “You’re being so good for me, doll,” he praises, reverent and soft, “You just keep being sweet for me and everything will be okay."

Your breath hitches, and suddenly it's not fear that knots itself in your stomach, but a desire to be good. You want to be sweet for him, want his praise and adoration and approval, no matter what he’s done or what he's capable of.

Pride flickers over his face at the way your eyes seem to glaze over and he’s quick to undo his belt, eager to keep you compliant and dazed, “Look at you, all flustered over some pretty words,” he half taunts, “S’like you were meant for me.”

“Jason,” you start, and he shakes his head at you, pushing his fingers between your teeth.

“Bite down for me, sweetheart,” he instructs, and you can’t help but listen, nipping at the leather of his glove so he can free his hand. “Good,” he coos at you, “Now, hold onto that for me while I take care of you.”

You want to listen, want to do as he says, but his fingers start to rub slow, steady circles against your clit and your mouth drops open in a pitched whine all on its own, letting the glove fall to the floor.

He laughs at you, fond and mocking all at once, “Sweet baby, can’t handle it can you? That’s alright, doll. I’ll make you feel real good anyway.”

You nearly go cross eyed when his cock nudges your cunt. Usually he’d take his time, have you creaming on his fingers or tongue before he’d make you see stars on his cock. But there’s something on face that says he has something to prove, that even with knowledge of who he is, it doesn’t change that your body knows him, wants him.

His name leaves your throat in a needy cry as he sinks into you, slowly guiding himself deep into your fluttering cunt.

Your back arches as his fingers press harder to your clit, his smile almost primal as he feels you clench down on his dick, “Gonna make a mess, baby,” he warns, and you’re not sure if he’s telling you he’s planning on making you a mess, or if he’s pointing out that you’re already on the verge of soaking his cock.

You groan when he starts to rock his hips in shallow thrusts, and it makes you babble his name faster. He’s being careful, letting you adjust to every inch of him as he splits you apart.

But, it’s not enough, not enough to drive the thoughts of Red Hood lingering on the edge of your mind, so you hook your ankles behind his back, and squeeze your eyes shut. If you don’t see him, don’t see the mask still resting on top of his head, maybe you can still pretend he’s just Jason, just your sweet, normal boyfriend.

“Don’t hide,” he grunts and jerks his hips forward, burying himself in one smooth motion that makes you gasp and snap your eyes open.

“There you go,” he murmurs, smile sharp as he gazes down at you. He drops his forearm to the ground next to your head, caging you between his arm and his knife. His free hand leaves your clit to tug your thigh higher up his hip.

He almost seems proud when he starts to grind into you, watching every blissed expression that crosses your face when ruts against your sweet spot.

He pulls his hips back, making sure your eyes stay locked on his, before he drives back into your cunt, setting a head spinning pace that has your needy mewls and the sound of skin on skin filling the room.

He lowers his head to kiss you with a sly grin, swallowing up every whine you make. All the reservations you had quickly disappear, replaced by the tight feeling building in your gut, by the drag of his cock against your walls. He’s relentless, chasing his and your pleasure with a single minded focus.

There’s a promise in his touch, when his hand leaves your thigh to find your hip. His fingers dig into your skin, hard enough to leave an imprint. If your head was any clearer, you would recognize it for the threat that it was.

His lips leave yours, and he buries his face in your shoulder, thrusts becoming sloppy as he murmurs slurred vows into your skin. “Gonna keep you forever. Gonna make you feel this way every day. Never gonna let you go. Never gonna lose this, baby.”

Maybe it’s the way his voice goes ragged. Maybe it’s the way his hips stutter as he fights off his release. Or maybe it’s the way he presses feverish kisses to your skin. But it sends you spiraling over the edge, clenching around his cock and cumming with his name in your throat.

He follows you with a moan, movements slowing as he pumps his spend into your twitching pussy. “Good, baby. So good,” he manages to get out, pulling his face back just enough to watch you whimper and try to gather what’s left of your rationality.

He tilts his head down, grinning like a hunter that’s caught the best prize of the season. The movement causes his mask to slip off his head, sliding it back in place to cover his face. The air catches in your lungs at the sight, your body tensing as clarity strikes through the lingering haze of pleasure.

Jason only laughs, tracing the curve of your jaw, “What’s wrong, baby,” he teases, slowly rolling his hips into your sensitive cunt, “Don’t tell me you forgot who was fucking you?”

“Take it off,” You murmur, voice tight as he drags every last bit of ecstasy from your body.

He hums, “Mm, No. You gotta get used to it, sweetheart. This mask, me, ain’t going anywhere.”

A part of you is still scared, scared to test him more than you already have, but it’s not Red Hood you want, it’s not Red Hood you fell in love with. Anger guides your actions as you reach up to rip the mask off his face. He catches your wrist faster than you see him move.

Everything seems to stop.

He slowly lowers your wrist back to the ground, pinning the offending hand above your head, “Now, sweetheart,” he says slowly, voice lowered to a tone you’ve never heard before, “We’re not going to do that.”

“I’m not sleeping with Red Hood,” you hiss, sounding braver than you feel.

He snorts at you, and every word he speaks is followed by a sharp thrust of his cock, “Baby, I am Red Hood.”

Your arguments turn to keens, overwhelmed and dizzy by his institance to keep driving his dick deeper into your pussy. His words hardly seem to register, but he keeps talking to you anyway, “You’ve been sleeping with Red Hood, baby. And you liked it– loved it. Just have to remind you.”

You can’t seem to focus. He’s good, so good at hitting all the spots that turn your brain into mush and your legs into jelly. But that mask, that stupid mask is staring down at you. It’s the only thing you can see.

You’re divided between Jason, the Jason whose cock has you babbling and moaning, and Red Hood. Red Hood who has your wrist pinned to the hard floor, who’s watching your every movement like he needs to memorize every expression, every sound you make.

It’s not until later, when he has you cumming on his cock for the fifth time, that you realize they are the same. They’ve always been the same.

Jason Todd is Red Hood, and now that you know, he'll blur the lines until you're not sure why you were ever really scared of him.

[shalotttower]

Pholcus phalangioides

Title: Pholcus phalangioides

Fandom: The Collector (2009). Can be read as an original inspired by the source, because I took some creative liberties.

Summary: There's a spider in your bathroom, it lives under the mirror cabinet and you a) don't want to kill it, and b) are too scared to touch it, so now you can either keep giving it one side eye after another, or ask your neighbour for help.

Word count: 4000+

Characters: Asa Emory x Reader

Notes: yandere Asa, spiders and insects descriptions, stalking, voyeurism of sort - Asa watches Reader without her realizing it, kidnapping, vague hinting on body horror, non-con touching, Reader is socially awkward. Asa is not 100% in-movie-character Asa (he actually talks lol), a huge chunk of him is based on my headcanons.

You have this problem - a spider problem, to be precise. Not that it's too big of a deal, but...it also is.

Spiders are generally okay.

They eat unwanted guests, like flies and mosquitos or even other spiders. Make cool webs, which is probably one of the most complicated forms of art, not to mention a mathematical pattern to it - a combination of radial and circular symmetry. The golden ratio in nature.

In general they're important for keeping a backyard ecosystem nice and intact.

But.

But there is a spider in your bathroom, right under the sink cabinet, with thin legs, a long body, and of course - eyes. Quiet, kept to itself, really chill spider who doesn't move much except to crawl around a little and sometimes look at you when it catches you looking.

It probably lived in hiding somewhere, before deciding that dark spaces weren't up to its standards anymore and making an appearance. You haven't swatted it away, caught it, struck it with a paper - mostly because you're not good at killing living creatures, and secondly because the spider isn't doing any harm, just observing your every step, and generally being present.

When you check your makeup bag, it watches. When you brush your teeth, it watches. When you close the cabinet door it wiggles and your heart goes "ee" as if someone shocked it with a static charge. This yellowish-brown witness of your everyday activities, silently approving and judging, lately makes you feel like a nuisance in your own bathroom. You desperately wish there was a way to make it move to another corner. A less centralized one, less straight in your face. Yet the thought of touching it makes you cringe inwardly; your mind conjures images of different scenarios involving spider-related unpleasantries - accidentally squashing it, or getting bitten and dying a slow, miserable death.

It's gotta go.

Because the more you see it, the more your brain tries to assign it human features. And the longer it stares, the bigger the chance it might grow a pair of lips to say "get out of my bathroom".

The thought comes to you in the morning while setting a breakfast plate on the kitchen counter. The house is quiet, all windows are open and you stare through one of them at your neighbour's fence. You rarely see him, though the parked car is always a giveaway of his presence. Emory, that's what the mailbox says, and he has a neat garden, not an extravagant type, but everything is carefully trimmed and arranged into simple patterns.

There's even a stone bench by a small tree. Does it actually get used on sunny days? Probably no. He seems like a loner, from what you've seen so far: tall and pale, with wire-rimmed glasses and still grey eyes. Very focused and put together, a turtleneck and dark trousers kind of Mister. Never waving when passing by, though he does glance sometimes - sharp and attentive.

Once you caught him leaning over a bush with back straight and head hanging low. Your stomach gave this funny, nervous twitch, like when a stranger tries to start a conversation in public. He looked your way and then resumed whatever he was doing.

"Whatever" appeared to be something small, sharp limbs and a shiny body. It looked like a beetle, stretched to an absurd degree, and the way he held that thing felt strangely intimate. The same way you'd cradle a baby animal in your hands, rubbing its forehead with a fingertip. Emory put it in a plastic box, sealed it, and went into his house, not sparing you another glance.

This particular memory - of long fingers and a careful grasp - is what makes you think that maybe, possibly, theoretically, he could handle one pesky spider for you. You've seen him with insects a couple of times after, no doubt Mr. Emory is one of those who glue bugs to display boards. The creepy friend in the bathroom must be right up his alley then.

Five minutes later the two of you are staring at each other in awkward silence. Bothering barely acquainted neighbours isn't usually high on your list of priorities, especially if said neighbours look like they prefer being alone. You know it's odd, you know it probably crosses some boundaries, yet here you are.

With a crease on his brow and a tight mouth, Emory isn't thrilled at this sudden visit. Maybe he was in the middle of something, or is just uncomfortable with people invading his space. In any case, you clear your throat.

"Good morning. I live in the house across the road. The white porch? With-"

"I know," it's a dry reply. Not rude, more matter-of-factly; his eyes are fixed on you with a hint of unsettling peculiarity which makes you shift from one foot to the other.

He's not pest control, you think. Or obligated to help in any way. Emory can tell you to kindly fuck off right now and close the door, why did you even come here? It's stupid and intrusive. You're almost ready to take it all back and go home, pretend like nothing happened and just deal with that spider yourself, when he speaks again.

"What do you need?"

He has a quiet voice, a very even direct tone that doesn't encourage small talk, but prompts answers. Now and without pointless filling.

"I know how it's going to sound," you start, cringing inside, "and apologize in advance for bothering you, but I had an impression you collect...bugs."

"Insects. Arachnids."

"Right. So I was thinking if you'd mind removing a spider from my bathroom. I don't want to kill it, but I can't- I can't touch it."

His gaze slowly shifts from your face to the house behind you. As if Emory has an x-ray vision, or a complete mental map of your household layout. Ha, this would be ridiculous. There's no apparent disapproval in his pale face, but something else, a different kind of assessment. Evaluation of how much it is worth spending time on someone with an overgrown lawn? His eyes return back and you feel pinned down.

The longer he stays silent, the more you wish for the ground to open and swallow you whole.

"If you can't I totally understand-"

"What kind of spider?"

It's your turn to stare. How are you supposed to know, you've never studied spider biology. It looks like any other common variety, except creepier because it refuses to leave its spot and stay in the sewer where it belongs. "I...light-brownish, with long legs. Thin? Slender," there's more you could add but any further description will probably make you sound like a total dunce who can't recognize basic arachnids. "Kind of big."

You expect a 'sure', maybe 'I'll be there shortly' or 'no'. What you get is Emory moving past you and walking up your front porch. The scent of laundry detergent and soap, very clean, hits your nose before you rush to open the door.

"Uhm. Second floor," you explain, awkwardly shuffling after him. For the first time since the day you moved in, you worry about what someone might see inside the house. As far as clutter goes, your place is acceptable, perhaps a few forgotten cups around and yesterday's sweater thrown on a couch. Surely, it's not too bad.

Emory, however, doesn't seem interested in the surroundings. The staircase doesn't even creak under his weight, despite the house being around a century old. He steps over the little border which always makes you trip if you walk too fast, like it's not there. Like the corner you often bump your hip into doesn't exist either. He navigates your home with effortless precision, an inward kind of certainty that makes your eyebrows rise. Maybe...the houses on your street have the same blueprint.

Either way, he walks into your bathroom without hesitation, turning on the light. You hover by the doorway, unsure: should you offer something to drink, ask him if he needs anything else or just step away and leave him to do his thing?

The spider is there, hiding under the cabinet, when Emory leans over to observe it. He's probably seen many different specimens, you think, and this isn't interesting at all compared to the ones who have an intricate design or unique behavior.

"She's a part of the Pholcidae family," Emory says suddenly. Just like that there's 'she', instead of 'it', and the spider twitches and shifts. "Daddy long-legs. Harmless."

He puts his palm up close to its back. At first, it seems startled, but after a moment slowly calms down, and moves a leg - left then right - getting familiar with his hand.

"Docile creatures," Emory continues, while the spider walks along the edge of his palm. No running around, no random leaps, stick-like limbs touch and probe him with curiosity, much like you'd study something new. "They stay in the dark, hide in the corners while feasting on smaller things. Your intruder is a useful tenant."

It makes you feel slightly nauseous, how nonchalant he is about holding something that prompts recoil on instinct.

"Do you want to hold her?" Emory turns to you and there's a faint, strange smile on his lips. It doesn't reach his eyes and makes him look like an alien who tries to mimic human expressions based only on observation. His pupils are so dark that you can barely tell the difference between the irises and the rest. They seem bottomless, absorbing all light, but reflecting none in return. You take one step backwards, shaking your head.

"I'll pass."

He keeps staring at you for what feels like forever before returning his attention to the spider crawling on his skin. Emory reaches into his back pocket for a small container.

"Are you not setting her outside?" You ask. "She...she doesn't look like, uh, a rare species."

Not that you're an expert.

"No," Emory closes the lid with a quiet click. "She isn't one. But I'm going to keep her."

And he does. The little captive spider rests at the very bottom of a plastic case when you send the man on his way and thank him for the help. Emory accepts it with a nod, no further words, and then there's only his back when he leaves. The morning air rushes in, crisp and fresh, smelling like grass, tree leaves and soil.

*

It feels like you blink, and three days go by. You still keep an eye on the bathroom cabinet by some sort of habit, however there's nothing out of the ordinary lurking there, no creepy critters and definitely no thin legs scattering in multiple directions. All is well, now you can brush your teeth, take care of business and even lean close without fear something might fall on your head.

It's just a spider. You googled it later, and how common it is around the continents should be a bit ridiculous. Keeping it might equal to going on a beach and picking the most unremarkable pebble you see; Emory certainly could find hundreds more Daddy long-legs wherever he pleased - parks, gardens or forests.

So...why?

The question gnaws at you, together with that smile and cold grey eyes hidden behind glasses' frames. The weirdest part wasn't the expression, it was how you couldn't read it. Despite the obvious display of human emotion, however misplaced and alien, it failed to reveal anything. The smile was there, and yet nothing broke through it, not amusement, nor politeness - or any kind of feeling whatsoever.

Your neighbour is odd.

Not necessarily scary, though there's a sense of mystery surrounding him, it makes you feel like standing next to an iceberg and only seeing its tip. Or you've just read far too many psychological thrillers and your imagination likes to conjure up the wildest scenarios, trying to turn each and every thing into something sinister.

Maybe you should just chill and get some tea, and stop being so dramatic about a guy who came over and politely removed a spider for you.

*

They're not a unique species. Not even remotely uncommon.

He taps the container gently with his index finger, making the spider move back and forth. She doesn't have venom, no poisonous chemicals to injure and kill. Hiding in abandoned corners she does, patient and careful, waiting to catch the wrong fly.

You're just like her. Nothing exciting. Not unique.

Your movement patterns are similar, concealed in a different package you're still predictable: getting home from work, cooking dinner, watching TV shows. Everyday routines.

Fear is a part of your nature. Awkwardness which comes with socializing: you shuffle when uncomfortable, avoid prolonged eye contact and don't like confrontation, he noticed this right away. A quiet type, keeping mostly to yourself unless you need something urgently; and then you rush, like a scared Daddy long legs. There's this shiftiness, an inner desire to be less visible, but also a yearning for recognition because the lack of it hurts. And he saw all those small things, catalogued them one by one, as you moved into his street and became a constant presence.

Asa has never thought about keeping something - someone - so mundane before. Never. He likes rare things, spectacular, and those collected in the basement, they all are, especially when he's finished with them. They're extraordinary, displayed under glass cases and preserved for eternity.

He doesn't collect common species. Daddy long-legs are abundant everywhere around him.

But.

There's the way you linger by the kitchen window during the morning routine, slowly sipping hot coffee. When your lips purse and eyes lose focus for a moment. Or how the corners of them wrinkle sometimes when you have a genuine, amused laugh. It's something like warmth. There's no label for the feeling - positive, negative or neutral, it just is, like one single, meaningless element in an ecosystem.

He shouldn't want someone so average.

And yet Asa watches from the corner of your living room, crouched on the floor by a plant.

You don't hear him, too invested in your personal bubble. Well, he had enough time to polish his craft and figure out how soundless he can be when moving through spaces, how much weight he needs to place onto soles to avoid creaking wood and floorboards.

It's interesting to see you interact with your environment, unaware of being watched. There's an invisible pattern behind each action, even if you think everything is randomized. The web you wove around yourself is cozy, and Asa follows its threads while you check the phone and frown at whatever notification pops up. He is considering. Contemplating this impulsive desire he has yet to identify.

Would it be worth it? Keeping you. Adding you to the collection and seeing what comes out of it, how far his usual approach might take him with you in the same conditions. You're just a face with features. So...ordinary. He wants to pick you apart and look inside to make sure it's not some strange sort of mimicry, camouflage of a different nature hiding something else entirely.

There's this vague idea how those features may feel when touched. He can recall them accurately, even when you've never stood too close. Asa watches quietly from his hiding place, memorizing a displeased mumble and then a frustrated gesture.

You seem so alive.

Those below who are frozen in time now were too, before Asa decided to give them a purpose and make something special and worthy of his attention. They were alive like you, but now they're something better.

What purpose you have remains to be seen.

Asa decides then.

A plain trunk is nestled in the corner behind a coat hanger, no fancy latch or keyhole needed, only an ordinary padlock. You'll fit in nicely, squeezed in the cramped space, it won't be the most comfortable experience, but it's not for long and then...then he can show you the room where others stayed before, and where you'll be next.

Asa looks around one last time: the front door is locked, blinds down, lights off - you get up from the couch and head upstairs, right on the dot. Your house is easy to navigate despite the darkness; Asa knows his way around it, having been here already more than once. A step after a step he follows the soft padding of your bare feet, and when the steps halt, he pulls out a cloth. It's a heavy kind of pleasure to be able to stand right behind and admire your nape, there's a strange sort of vulnerability to it.

Something raw and very exposed.

It takes only a few movements, he catches your yelp into one of his hands and holds it clasped tightly as you thrash. Your nails dig into the fabric of his turtleneck but fail to leave any marks. He's never tired of it, the initial fear of his specimens realizing that their secure habitats are ruined. He doesn't mind this fight for survival.

"Shh," Asa breathes into your ear. "Shh."

The struggle doesn't last long - you're not a fighter - and when your body goes limp, he picks you up. Your perfume is surprisingly light, a very sweet and pleasant aroma, not overwhelming at all like he'd expect it to be.

It's nice.

He puts you in the trunk, a boxy space barely big enough to fit you curled on the side, it's going to take around thirty minutes to reach the hotel and another three to put you in the right cell. You'll sleep the rest of the journey, which is fortunate for everyone. It's always easier to deal with a specimen if they're resting.

The lock clicks softly - it's time to go home.

*

Something runs down your cheek - a drop, a bead of sweat, a touch - and you blink, trying to make sense of it. The surroundings are unfamiliar, blurry shapes with undefined outlines that stretch and wobble before your eyes. Your jaw hurts, clenched so hard that teeth grind together, and it takes a conscious effort to relax.

Where...what?

The living room, a TV program, a soundless whisper that froze the hairs at your nape, then someone was behind you. You remember a sickly sweet smell, and after that nothing but a haze and the dark, and the sensation of being squeezed into a shape. Your legs feel numb, arms too, like you spent hours immobile in one position. Slowly the world sharpens back into focus, but instead of relief there's only dread.

You're in a room.

No bigger than a regular bathroom and void of any furniture beside a cot-like bed, a toilet in the corner and a sink. The walls are a bluish-gray with thin cracks, tiny fissures that create uneven lines from the ceiling all the way down to the floor.

And there's a man, observing you quietly through the thick glass.

You don't notice him immediately, too busy assessing your new location, and when you do the air feels heavier, difficult to move past your throat. He's wearing a mask. Black rubber or something, covering everything except his eyes. He presses two palms against the barrier separating you, the silence stretches into an eternity.

'Who are you? What do you want?' - these are kind of questions you should be asking, but they don't come out. You remain glued to the spot, counting the passing seconds by their painful tick-tock-tick-tocks. One minute turns into two, and he...just stares without moving a muscle in a beyond unnerving manner. Your gaze dips lower to check his clothes, perhaps find a pattern to identify this person later.

There's none. Everything is plain black, like a uniform made to be invisible - turtleneck, pants, even gloves and boots.

It seems that your silence somehow pleases him, because a few moments later he leaves without looking back.

You don't know how much time passes; there's not a window around, only a bare, stark bulb, yellowish in its brightness and casting unpleasant shadows all over the floor. Not a single sound. Traffic, voices of distant passersby or birds - all is absent and doesn't provide even a bit of understanding where the hell you are.

In the end, you...sit down on the bed and wait, because what else is there? Everything is eerily silent and very, very uncomfortable: this emptiness, the absence of noise, the endless ticking of an invisible clock. It's difficult not to cry, but you try your best, somehow it feels important to remain composed. There has to be a reason behind this. There must be one, and you repeat it over and over, like a mantra to soothe the nerves and present your mind with some semblance of logic: once you figure out what's going on, you'll figure out how to get out as well.

Pulling loose threads from your sleeve is poor entertainment, if anything, the strain of boredom and unease gradually grows into anxiety so sharp that you almost miss the sound of approaching footsteps.

He's back again, the masked stranger who stands in the doorway with hands clasped behind his back. A pair of light grey eyes is a splash of different color, but they are blank. They watch with distant curiosity of an animal trainer monitoring a newborn cub. The comparison makes something ugly squirm inside you. A part of you wants to make a run for it, the other keeps yelling that it would be immensely stupid.

One, two, three, four steps he takes into your cell. Your back meets the wall, the chill coming from its solid surface cuts right through the layers of clothing. Five, six. He stops only when there's less than arm's reach between you, then leans to brush away loose strands of hair sticking to your temples. Your stomach goes taut. This scent. Laundry detergent mixed with soap. The turtleneck, grey eyes, very collected kind of Mister.

A sickly shiver of revulsion shoots down your spine, making you curl tighter into a ball. Emory cups your jaw with both hands - they're cold even through the gloves material. This is too close, an unwanted and unpleasant violation of boundaries, and yet he continues to examine your face, like you're some sort of an object he can handle however he pleases.

Your cheek gets a light pat. Any theories about his identity stay unvoiced, mostly because you fear the reaction they might prompt. Something tells you that screaming is a bad idea too. 'Be quiet,' an insistent whisper says deep inside your skull, 'be still.'

His thumbs press to the corners of your mouth. "Open," he orders, and you can't not, even though the whole thing sounds and feels bizarre. "Wider."

There's a quiet click. A flashlight, of those small ones you can easily hold in one hand, shines right into your eyes, making them water from the unexpected brightness. "Don't bite or I'll remove all of your teeth."

It's a simple threat, delivered with such a calm tone, there's no need for yelling when words are that clear and straightforward.

He inspects your mouth, the edges of teeth and gums, your inner cheeks, and you let him, clenching your fists. There's not much you can do, at least that's what you keep telling yourself to ease the heavy, sinking feeling of powerlessness. Your mind chants 'too close' on a loop, urging to wiggle away; you stay. It's unclear what exactly he's looking for - dental or oral diseases, a sore throat, cavities, or the lack of them?

It lasts forever until he straightens back up and puts the light away.

"Good," Emory states. There's another pat to your head before he turns around to leave. "No biting."

The door panel slides with a soft hum, locking shut. And the silence, and the waiting, and the mind numbing monotony is back again.

[solarmorrigan]

69 + 27 for steddie :)

I got really stuck on this one for a bit, but it ended up being one of my favorites. Thank you for the prompt!

From the Fanfiction Trope Mash-Up list: 69. Flirting Under Fire + 27. Sick/Injured Fic

cw: canon-typical violence, mentions of injury

-

It’s a little bit like date night, really.

Like, in a twisted sort of way.

They get some time away from everyone else, they’re doing something together, they get to appreciate each other’s skills and competency – so what if the activity in question is patrolling Hawkins’ cracked and monster-infested streets? Times are tough, they take what they can get.

In any case, Steve has found he very much appreciates the chance to watch Eddie snipe demobats out of the sky, or take demodogs out with a well-aimed shot to what could dubiously be called the head (curly-haired brunets with guns; apparently Steve has a very specific type. Go figure). Eddie, in turn, has made no secret of how he enjoys seeing the power and strength in Steve’s swings when he takes on all manner of beasts with his trusty nailbat (Mark 2. Nailbat Mark 1 had unfortunately splintered some time ago, may it rest in peace).

And if they decide to go to bed immediately after showering off the muck and ash once they’ve gotten home, it’s because they’re tired from patrol. Obviously.

It’s possible, though, that they’ve gotten a little too complacent. They’ve had a string of easy patrols, picking off single demobeasts or taking out small groups with the ease that comes with practice. There haven’t been any surprises or mishaps, almost like the monsters have fallen into an easy pattern of their own.

Or maybe thinking like that is where Steve slips up.

Eddie whistles as Steve follows through on a swing that crushes the ribcage of the final demodog in the small pack, effectively taking it out of commission.

“Nice form, Harrington.”

“Right,” Steve drawls, turning a warm smile on Eddie that takes any of the sting out of his teasing, “because you know so much about baseball.”

Eddie’s smile turns wolfish. “Who’s talking about baseball?”

Steve snorts, shaking his head, still smiling. He’s never had someone lay it on so thick with him – he’s never had the blatant flirting and the silly nicknames and the entirely unsubtle once-over glances, and he kind of loves it. He loves Eddie, really, but even in the midst of a mini apocalypse, it’s probably too soon to go around declaring that.

Instead, he glances around at the monsters strewn on the ground, and then at his watch. It’s nearly midnight; they’ve been out for hours, and this is the only encounter they’ve had.

“Think we’re done for the night?” he asks

To his credit, Eddie does a quick check of the area before stepping in close to Steve. “I’m nowhere near done with you for the night, sweetheart,” he purrs, and a shiver runs down Steve’s spine.

“No?” he asks, gaze flicking down to see the way Eddie’s lips curl into a smirk.

“Nope. Let’s go home and I can show you what else I have in mind.”

Steve is so distracted by the idea, by the thoughts Eddie’s words conjure up, by Eddie himself, that he almost misses it – the movement right in the periphery of his vision.

Almost, but not quite.

As it is, he barely has time to bark out, “MOVE,” at Eddie and give him a hard shove, getting him out of harm’s way. He doesn’t have time to follow.

The pain of the demodog’s claws raking across his side is so sharp that it burns cold, and the force behind the blow winds Steve and knocks his bat from his hands. He can see it drawing back for another swing—it’s the one he thought he’d killed first with a solid blow to its gaping maw—but he can’t move, can’t force his body to cooperate, and he’s about to die–

The sharp report of Eddie’s shotgun rings out, and the demodog jerks. Its head is gone, black ooze splattered all over everything (probably up to and including Steve’s wound, Steve realizes with a shivery sort of distaste), and then Eddie is at Steve’s side.

“Shit, shit, baby, sit down, you look like you’re about to–” Even as Eddie’s saying it, Steve’s legs start to shake hard enough that they practically go out from under him, and Eddie just manages to catch him before his knees hit the pavement.

Looking back on it later, Steve really only remembers snatches of what happens next: using Steve’s jacket as a compress (it’s ruined anyway), Eddie speaking frantically into the walkie to call for a pickup, Eddie talking to him low and soothing until Hopper’s truck pulls up, Hopper’s many varied and colorful swears as he helps bundle Steve into the back. Steve definitely remembers that he passes out sometime around when they dump the heavy-duty, Upside Down-grade disinfectant over the slashes in his side, and he’s grateful he does.

Eddie is there, sitting by the bed when Steve wakes up, looking like he’s aged about ten years in the grey light of what could either be dawn or dusk.

“Hey,” Steve rasps, aiming a tiny smile at Eddie.

“Steve, what the fuck,” Eddie demands, and it only makes Steve’s smile grow.

It isn’t exactly the first thing he’d wanted to hear, but it’s a very Eddie thing to say all the same.

“Wasn’t gonna–” Steve breaks off with a hiss as he tries to sit up a little further against the headboard, and Eddie darts forward to help support him, to rearrange the pillows and get him a little more upright. “Wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

“Steve–”

Actually, fuck ‘too soon.’ Fuck waiting.

“I love you,” Steve says, and Eddie falls silent.

Steve doesn’t regret saying it—he could never, he’s pretty sure—but Eddie is quiet just long enough for Steve to get nervous before he’s pressing forward and kissing Steve, hard and full and insistent.

“I love you, too,” Eddie murmurs, the words almost lost inside Steve’s mouth, like he can’t even wait long enough to get them out before taking another kiss. “Never do that again.”

Steve kisses back, matching the passion as well as he can with what little energy he has, and makes no such promise.

He loves Eddie, after all. He could never lie to him.

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Knives and the House of Black

You know who loves knives? Members of the Black family, that's who. In my newer writings, I've been exploring knives and what they can do for the Black family. This is based in canon - Bellatrix has her handy dagger, which kills Dobby and wounds Hermione (and who knows who else), and Sirius gifts Harry a knife that can open doors (until the blade is destroyed). Personally I love the idea of the Black family having a love affair with knives.

In my micro fic for the @ladiesofhpfest's mini yesterday in honor of Bellatrix Black Lestrange, I introduced a tradition of Black family witches and wizards getting knives on their 13th birthdays. This tradition came out of the world building I'm doing in my Tedromeda/Remadora AU, Supernova. I've pre-written a good bit of the work, which includes some knife head canons. I'm happy to share them here, and if you're reading Supernova, you'll see how they all fit into the story as it goes on.

HCs for Black family knives:

Knives are goblin-wrought and imbued with a ton of familial magic. Droplets of Black family blood are folded into the silver to create a particular blood magic that prevents Black family members from harming each other with their knives. The blade dulls if it touches another family member.

How related do you have to be? The magic holds with concentration, so once you get past grandparents, it's lethal. E.g. Scorpius Malfoy and Teddy Lupin couldn't hurt each other because their grandmothers were Blacks, but their children could hack each other apart if they wanted to. This also means that Black family members' spouses are fair game - e.g. Bellatrix can play with Rodolphus as much as she likes (and she really likes).

The knives have magic of their own: when they're 13, the knives have the basic Black family magic, but when they turn 17, the knives have gotten to know their owner enough that a new, unique type of magic is revealed. (See below for each of their magics!)

The knife *always* returns to its owner unless its magic is modified or the owner is deceased. If the knife is stolen or lost, it'll come back the next day.

Black family witches wear their knives around their thighs. The holsters are lightweight and barely noticeable. The holster is made of leather and the blade cleans itself within. Black family wizards keep them on their arms or in their pockets. The witches usually get daggers and the wizards usually get pocketknives. Either way, they're self-cleaning so they don't have to worry about dirty blood on their bodies.

The Black family magic can't be taken away, even if someone is disowned.

The knives are long enough to pierce the heart, or can be extended to do so.

The witches' daggers tend to be very ornate looking, with flowers, stars, or other patterns engraved in the handles. They're innocent looking until you're being stabbed and losing consciousness. Yay!

The wizards' knives are handsome and practical-looking. They look like ordinary pocketknives most of the time until you realize that they're about to shank you.

Now, for specific HCs on what the knives can do for each family member when they turn 17 (this is an incomplete list - it's what I have so far for Supernova, which is mostly centered on the Black family witches):

Walburga: her knife BURNS. If she's stabbing you with her dagger, it's going to scorch your skin and make your blood boil. Ouch.

Orion: his pocketknife is Walburga's opposite. It freezes, so imagine getting stabbed in the heart and then having your heart grow cold at the same time. Goodbye life.

Alphard: his pocketknife is a dual-purpose compass. It can give him directions as needed, but also points to what he most desires (think Jack Sparrow's special compass).

Cygnus: his knife temporarily blinds its victim. Not only can he stab you, but you'll be blinded for a hot minute, which makes it hard to escape.

Bellatrix: her knife ALWAYS leaves a mark. She can carve whatever she wants into whoever she wants. That scar is never going away.

Andromeda: her knife doubles as an escape. She can swish it around and create a quick bubble with which she can Apparate away as needed.

Narcissa: her knife changes shape according to her wish. This is useful with potions, but extra useful if she wants to inflict maximum damage on someone by using a serrated blade.

Sirius: his knife is the pocketknife that opens any door. He's clever enough to change the magic on it so he can gift it to Harry, because he's had enough of his family and Harry has more use for it now.

Regulus: his knife becomes invisible to anyone but him. It's an excellent way of being able to sneakily attack someone. You think he's going in for a hug or a handshake and boom, bye-bye life.

Nymphadora/Dora: this is particular to Supernova, my story, as she's being raised under different circumstances. Her dagger will heal her. When she runs her blade against a wound on her body (and her body alone) it will seal itself.

It's all fun, games, and knives, until one of them is fucking you up with their knife and having a fabulous time doing so.

[crazyfandomluver]

Imagine:…

We always get the stories about young Phillip and Russell Adler. But what about Teen/Young Adult Phillip, who's in the Marines/Marine Raiders, and gets home after a long deployment, who either:

a) (Canon Ending) meets with Adler, who talks with him about the missions Phil went on, teaches him some moves, trains him/ prepares him for certain types of missions, etcetera etcetera. Phillip goes on to get higher in the marine raiders and meets General Shepherd who convinces him to start Shadow Company. This leads into canon times as we know except Graves is every bit the money loving war criminal that the haters want you to believe that he is, due to Shepherds influence on him at a young age in the military. Russell Adler slowly loses his son to the type of people that he used to hunt down for betraying others just for the money/recognition

Or

B) (Good Canon Ending) comes home and finds that his father isn't there, and there are people there who are tracking him and Russell down, and who have invaded the house. Phillip clears the house of the invaders, and gathers a few things before heading to a safe house, and gets in contact with his dad, and together (maybe with the help of some friends) take down the people/operation hunting Adler and Phil. Phillip realizes how much better working in a group of your own choosing and choosing your own missions is, and decides to change his last name, and form Shadow Company. This leads into canon times as we know, with Graves meeting Shepherd later on and around the time before Modern Warfare 2 begins. Graves is either hassled or blackmailed to betray the 141 and has a strong bond with his Shadows. Russell Adler stays in contact with Phillip, and they still meet sometimes.

Or

C) (Bad Canon Ending) comes home and finds that his father isn't there and he gets captured. Turns out that it's Bell who captures him, and Bell brainwashes Phillip the same way Adler did to him, to hunt his own father down. Confronted by someone who's younger and spryer than he is, and who also knows all of his moves, Adler gets captured and taken to Bell, who kills Adler, and rents the highly trained and brainwashed Phillip out for missions against the West. Forced to watch his father die, and to betray the country he had grown to love, Phillip slowly tears himself apart from the inside out, until finally during a mission, he manages to break free of the brainwashing, shoot Bell, and manages to track down all the people he was ever forced to work for, until he has taken down all of the threats(that he knows of) to his country and its allies. After that, he ends up lost, and without a purpose, and changes his name to Phillip Graves due to the graves he had to fill during his brainwashing and awakening. He goes back to what little he can remember… the military. There he meets General Shepherd who 'helps' build Graves back up and guides him to start Shadow Company. Shepherd says he's helping him, but when really, he's using him, and Graves doesn't recognize this because being manipulated is all he remembers. As the The Shadows get to know Phillip, they try to help, but he's already fallen back into his brainwashed patterns and is unable to listen. Shepherd plants a seed in Graves' mind that the 141 need to be taken out because they're going to betray him first, so he must make the first move. Russell Adler and Bell both die, and Phillip has lost himself along the way, leaning into every praise from the General that he gets, only to see the man for what he is, when Shepherd betrays him in the courthouse.

[lou-struck]

Haunted or Creepy?

Reo Mikage x reader

Flufftober Day 5: Little Doll

~ After wandering into an antique shop, Your boyfriend notices a strange doll has caught your attention. . 

All of the well-kept trees in the plaza are adorned with the most breathtaking collage of leaves. They rustle slightly in the wind, still too stubborn to fall. It’s beautiful, but you know that Reo Mikage has them all beat. 

Your soccer star boyfriend has elected to forgo his training clothes in favor of something a bit more his style for your date today. You are sure that his plain yet perfectly fitted sweater costs more than your entire wardrobe, but judging by the way he hurries over to you with the two full cups of hot apple cider in his hands, he doesn’t care in the slightest about getting dirty. 

Especially if it’s for you.

“Here, for your hands.” He smiles, holding out one of the cups for you to take. Wisps of his rich purple hair fall delicately onto his face, somehow making him look even more handsome.

“Thank you,” you say gratefully, taking the paper cup. Its spiced warmth helps you realize just how chilly your fingers have gotten in this wind. 

“Is it just me, or has it gotten a lot colder since we started walking out here?” He asks, looking up at the deceptively sunny sky. As if hearing his words, Mother Nature sends a bone-chilling gust of wind your way. The cold air penetrates through your light sweater and sends teeth-chattering shivers down your spine.

You tense up and place the paper cup up to your cheek in an attempt to warm yourself up. “D-definitely n-not j-just y-you.”

His eyes widen in concern as he pulls you closer to him. “Let’s head inside one of the shops where it’s warm. I’ll call my driver to come pick us up.”

“You’ll call your driver?” you giggle, leaning into his warmth, “You really are a pretty rich boy.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” he coos, placing his chin on top of your head. Would you rather walk?” 

“Nope,” you say quickly, not wanting to be out here freezing your ass off. “D-drivings good.”

An amused chuckle slips past his lips as his hand slides securely on your lower back, guiding you towards a weathered wooden door. “This place looks open; let’s check it out.”

You nod and glance down at the simply drawn chalkboard sign that rests on the pavement. “It looks like an antique shop.”

“Interesting,” he hums, reaching towards the faded brass knobs. “I don’t think I have ever been in one of these.”

You snort and shake your head in amusement. Of course, he had never been in an antique store before. You have only met his parents a few times, but they don’t seem to be the type of people who are interested in buying someone’s old wedding china or vintage bedroom furniture.

“Well then, I’m glad that I get to be here for your first time.” you wink, bumping into his cashmere-coated chest. 

“I feel so supported,” he laughs, playing along with your antics. His arm stretches over your head to hold the door open for you. 

The shop is dimly lit by rustic floor lamps. The light reflecting off of the blown glass shades creating patterns on the thickly carpeted flooring. Gone is the harsh chill of the wind as it is replaced by the heavy scent of dust. It surrounds you, and you can’t help but feel in your gut that something is off about this place.

“Woah, look at these lunch boxes,” Reo says, looking over at a glass display case filled with printed metal lunch boxes with various cartoon and comic book characters posing on the front. He puts his hands up on the glass and peers in closer to get a better view. “I saw one like this at a charity auction a few years back, and they made a killing. I wonder if these are the same kind?”

“That’s so cool.” you grin, trying to focus on just how adorably excited your boyfriend is and not on the strange feeling of dread that has clung to you ever since you have walked into the store. 

“I wonder what other cool stuff they have in here?” he grins, taking your hand and pulling you deeper into the shop. 

“I wonder,” you hum, playing with the tassels on a beaded lampshade as you are guided deeper into the store. You pass the checkout counter and a rather distracted employee who is tapping furiously on their iPad. The unmistakable sounds of Candy Crush playing through the muffled speakers. 

Turning the corner, you notice a tall glass display case sitting on a polished wood dresser. Your stomach seems to be tying itself in knots as you continue to take step after apprehensive step. If Reo feels the same way, he does not show it. 

Have you ever looked at something and said, ‘Yeah, that is totally haunted?” 

The porcelain-faced doll in the display case just screams it. It’s deep dark eyes glimmer with sinister intent and makes your skin crawl. You want to leave, you want to be as far away from this toy as possible, screw it if it’s cold outside you don’t want to be here another minute. But you feel that if you take your eyes off this thing even for a second, it’s gonna get you. 

“Woah, cool doll.” Reo says innocently, tossing an arm over your shoulder. “You’ve been looking at it for a while; let me get it for you.”

“No!” you say much louder than you initially meant to. Your eyes grow wider and wider in fear as you imagine what it would be like to take that creepy thing home, hiding it away in some far-off closet or crawlspace only for it to find you in your room when you least expect it.

Reo looks concerned at your outburst and takes a step back, raising his hands up in the air innocently. “Woah, I guess not.” he chuckles. 

“Do you not see how creepy that thing is?” you huff pointing at the case. “There is no way it’s getting anywhere near my place or yours.”

“What?” he asks, his lips twitching as he tries and fails to keep from laughing. “It’s a bit creepy, but it’s got some charm to it.”

“Charming? That doll is one hundred percent cursed, or possessed, or whatever.” you say seriously. Making the mistake of taking your attention off the doll to watch the wonderful way Reo’s amethyst-colored eyes twinkle as he laughs. 

“Oh come on, it’s not that…” he turns to look at the doll, and all the color drains from his face. “It just moved.”

“Stop messing with me.”

“It. Just. Moved.” he repeats again with a deadly serious tone.

You look back at the case and want to hurl. Just seconds ago, the doll was staring blankly ahead, but now her head has twisted to the side, exposing her copper-colored ringlets and staring right at you. Those dark eyes boring into your soul. “It moved.”

“We gotta go now,” he says worriedly, taking your hand and pulling you away from the item. His strong legs lead you out of the store and down the walkway for your lives. 

“W-wait.” you pant, lungs burning as you dig your heels in. As a professional athlete, his stamina is much better than yours, so he probably could’ve dashed the two of you all the way home. 

“Yeah, that thing was definitely haunted.”

[twistedroseytoesy]

How about the octavinelle trio whit a Portuguese manowar "jellyfish" I can imagine them having a blu mohawk them having longer legs and how would they be affected by their sting.

(The return of the blu dragon mc but evil)

Thanks for making me interested in sea creatures it's interesting to learn about them.

I’m so glad I helped inspire you! The ocean is such a fascinating place full of all kinds of crazy creatures!

Also, I never knew that they were a type of siphonophore! That's so exciting! two birds with one stone since I had a siphonophore reader story somewhere in my drafts.

Description

your mer form was rather large and awkward, you never minded thanks to how the large float around your hips allowed you to float close to the surface of the water. You knew others talked about you but they couldn't do anything unless they wanted a very deadly sting their way. its a bit lonely but you kept your self occupied ith daydreaming and feeling the water through your long tenticles. your tenticles are 40ft long and your float is similar to a normal jellyfish bell, with a long membrane running up your back.

Your human form feels so heavy so you struggled a lot to stand at first. you are constantly fully covered due to your sting still being able to affect those who touch your skin. Luckily in your human form, it's not strong enough to kill but it does put people, merfolk, beastmen, and fae alike into a week-long near-death coma. many stay away from you and you just happily experience life on the surface knowing there are very few who are willing to mess with you.

Octavinelle

Azul: Knew you were a mermaid due to how you found interest in the surface, along with your somewhat translucent and very squishy-looking skin. Heard a rumor of someone being put in a coma for touching you so when he asked you to meet with him he made sure to keep his distance. a bit irritated that you were content just bearly passing your classes and being fairly lazy. He couldn't find anything he could offer you to try and get your abilities trust. offers you all kinds of things just so he can have you ensure that any troublemakers are put out if they step out of line to many times.

When he first sees your merform he realizes just how dangerous you are. Not even the tweel's will mess with you in that form! he does compliment your beautiful colors and long dangerous appendages. for the first time, you hear someone compliment you! you showed genuine surprise and joy that day. So now you won't stop following Azul around, trying your best to be friends. Or what you've imagined a friend to be like. it takes some time but he comes to appreciate it, especially if you share your terribly sad and lonely life story with him. you both bond over a lonely childhood and harsh words due to your merforms. you'll defend each other happily anytime anyplace.

Jade: Jade was immediately drawn to you. Your semitranslucent skin gave you away as a mer, he was interested in your interesting patterns and how you seemed to shy away from others. he was quick to start observing you. over time he learned exactly what you were, and sometimes even sent more troublesome... clients your way for them to disappear for a week or so. Eventually starts asking you many questions about your venom and if he could study it. purely for educational purposes, he assures you.

He actually asked to see your mer form, having made an antidote for himself if anything were to go awry. He has never been able to be so close to one of your species, he admires your form and compliments is as he observes how you move through the water, mostly just floating on your back or front and daydreaming to pass the time. Seems boring, and lonely. offers to keep you company in return for some experiments in the future with a tentacle or two. You're happy to have the company and you both bond over how interesting the surface is compared to the sea, especially the plant life. you loved the small blobs of jelly that grew on trees you've seen a few times when wandering. right then and there, you were now friends as Jade happily shared his knowledge of fungi and their many uses and forms.

Floyd: Thought you were rather boring at first. A bit surprised when he was in a squeezing mood and caught you due to how slowly you moved. You were extra squishy! unfortunately for him, his squeezing caused your shirt to ride up in your struggle, and Floyd's arm got stung. He was out for a whole week, jade and azul hunted you down asked you what you did to their accomplice, you just explained he would be fine in a week. you didn't mean to sting him. When he woke up and was told wht had happened he went and found you and squeezed you but showed of a forcefield spell he learned to cover his while body! now he cant be stung and he gets to squeeze his squishy! he calls you squishy or jellyfish.

when he first saw your merform he got really excited and almost fully swam into the deadly tendrils. luckily he stopped himself short and cast the protection spell on himself. He remembered what you mentioned that your human form had a weaker venom than normal. It felt weird to have something move so much through your tentacles, but it mostly tickled. Floyd was happy to see you happy, especially if he knew about how you were treated and lonely most of your life. He happily offers to stay by your side if you stay fun. Maybe there's a cool potion you could make with some of your rare ingredients! that sounds like fun! You are his friend now and you're more than happy with that outcome, even if his friendship is a bit much at times.

[catchyhuh]

Sometimes what people wear as pajamas is a weird indicator of personality so... What’s your opinion on their pajamas?

it took less than a second for me to go “how do pjs indicate personaliOhhh wait yeah that does make sense” as I realized I was folding up multiple adult size cartoon character onesies for my own pajama drawer. let’s get into it BUT UH DISCLAIMER i mostly talk about patterns in canon i’ve noticed with just… tiny personal thoughts in here. less headcanons more breakdown. NOW let’s get into it

lupin:

two modes-- soft, fuzzy button up set, or just his underwear. somewhat depending on weather, DEFINITELY depending on mood. i mean you don't wanna get COLD and he got those nice purple heart pajamas with an actual, legal purchase, so it'd be stupid to waste them ALL the time!

there could be a joke here about how he’d probably just sleep naked if the gang weren’t constantly groaning in annoyance, throwing pillows at him begging him to put on some damn pants, but the reality is… he can’t really sleep like that. it’s uncomfy :( he tried :) but it’s uncomfy :(

jigen:

you aren't ready for this. or you are. you likely are, given i had to choose between like 3 different pictures i have of him in fits like this

and i’m dead serious. big ass ankle length nightgown with matching cap. no, really. these are his actual pajamas. they’re comfy to him. i can’t fathom why, maybe the fabric is just equal parts breathable and warm, maybe he did this once for the bit and realized it was the best sleep he ever had, WHATEVER, these are his pajamas, and no amount of teasing by now will stop him from changing into these before going to bed

i have to respect them for committing to this bit, because you think, oh, he’s the coolest. he wouldn’t have lame pajamas. no he does. very lame. hilariously so. arose such a clatter type shit. nighty night scrooge

fujiko:

now, she would LIKE to say big, fluffy, fancy nightgown… but the texture feels bad scrubbing against your skin all night, so she usually just opts for a simpler nightgown. or, like lupin, just her underwear. obvious fanservice aside she’s clearly comfy bundled up like that so you show em how its done fujiko

no matter how cold it gets, she can never really sleep in pajama pants. shorts, maybe, but anything that reaches past her knees feels restrictive, hence why she normally just goes for the nightgown. she doesn’t even kick in her sleep idk why it’s such a big deal!

goemon:

i had to look through a bunch of stuff because i was like. wtf. what DOES he wear to bed. he can’t just be wearing his usual clothes all day and night, it would be uncomfortable. so i’ve come to the conclusion that these virtually identical clothes here are just made of a softer material, designated as goemon’s jammies

or he just. sleeps in his underwear. it really is comfsorry the mental image of the camera panning across three beds where they’re sleeping in their underwear vs jigen still rocking the victorian fit is killing me a bit

zenigata:

have you noticed he sleeps with his hat on more than jigen does. isn’t that fucked. jigen has a special sleeping hat but the alleged NON-hat-obsessed guy is the one sleeping in it. due to his… hectic routine, he never really has a default type of pjs. either he just sleeps in what he was already wearing (c’mon, man) or he’s packed like, some pajama pants, or (take another shot because this series loves this gag) just hits the hay in the heart print boxers. jigen really is a scientific outlier.

USUALLY if he’s bothering to actually change, it’s just the undershirt he’s already got on and some comfy pants, the kind you can get at like walmart for five bucks, so if he’s forgotten to bring them it’s no biggie. damn anon was right this IS a personality indicator!

BONUS YATA!:

as we have oft discussed, yata is a man we have all met at one point in our lives. so, yata has the basic boring man pajamas. t-shirt that’s too big for him but he forgot to return it, and seasonal pajama pants. the pants always seem to mismatch the season, he wore the snowflake ones during summer, and now he’s wearing the halloween ones in winter?

the shirt itself is also mundanely mysterious. nobody can really place the logo on it, and he doesn’t really remember where he got it from either. it doesn’t bother him too much until it’s pointed out to him

[samarecharm]

Bouncing off my bi ryuji awakening post, im gonna add these tags from it: (separated to make it easier to read)

[#anyway. akira is the guy ever. and ryuji is exploding#‘i have died. badly’#i like thinking of akira like this; hes ryujis first exposure to nb ppl and gnc adjacent stuff#even if akira is p masc by most standards hes still got a bit of. aloofness. about his gender stuffs#ryuji is just really into the way akira carries himself#and it takes him a while to go oh. oh i think its cause i like this dude#um.#😳.

#also i wanted to clarify#but ryujis mom just doesnt know Who akira is in that picture#and in my head hes like. looking down at mona and petting him (while sitting)#(AND hes with ann and theyre both kind of a distance away from the camera)#so at a quick glance; hes just Some Girl#and even though shes wrong; it kicks off the mental chaos olympics in ryujis head#‘what hes not a girl’ to ‘where would she even get that from’ to ‘well akira said himself he didnt rlly care what ppl thought about it’#to ‘well. where DID she get that from?’ to lookin at what his homie does a little closer to ‘aw fuck. man.’#but i love that for him

#ALSO. RYU/GORO IN TAGS…..#but ryuji going oh my GOD oh my godddd 😨😓😓😓 when something clicks in his head about goro#his voice is so practiced and naturally softspoken and his public facing persona is very demure#and once he gets past the initial anger over goro being a pompous prick who shittalks about the thieves. hes like. god fucking dammit.#There Is A Pattern and A Type He Has and Its Killing Him To Realize it.#hes literally sitting in his room w his head in his hands]

Ryuji definitely finds Conventionally Attractive Girls pretty, but he realizes around postgame that he genuinely formed crushes on THREE people; Akira, Makoto, and Goro. And all three of them are people who carry themselves as a bit Soft and Delicate (akira and makoto w their personality and mannerisms, goro w his appearance) while also being deceptively strong. Yusuke WOULD fit into this but hes only strong in the metaverse. Also if u tried to argue that he still finds yusuke pretty, Ryuji would just say ‘yeah duh? Of course???’ and would not elaborate further.

I just think. Its cute 👉🏾👈🏾 Ryuji loves someone whos pretty and capable of knocking him flat on his ass lmao He LOVES a challenge and he likes that they can all challenge him in different ways.

Akira is way stronger than he looks; hes very toned and he used to be quite active before being shipped off to tokyo. And after fighting in the metaverse, hes gotten way better at using an enemies mass and momentum against them. Yeah he can properly knock someone down, but its way easier to let Ryuji charge him and use that momentum to sweep and pin. Which Ryuji remembers vividly for Weeks. Akira is not allowed to spar w him and Makoto for awhile after that.

Makoto is just strong as hell. But shes very defensive, and extremely patient. ‘Ill wait and see before I decide What to do’. Shes got good reaction timing and its hard to catch her offguard. Its very difficult to disorient her so oftentimes, his spars w her are more about endurance. And if he ASKS her to do so, she’ll actually fight him back. He never wins 😭 but she is very patient w him and she doesnt treat him like an idiot. She likes to give him tips and redirect his strengths to make up for his weaknesses and it makes him a bit warm in this chest

Spars w Goro are just fun. Theyre fun! Goro is way more aggressive and reckless than Makoto and Akira. He is looking for openings near constantly and Ryuji has to either keep up or tank hits. Its very. Engaging. For him. Sometimes he loses and Goro is giving him a look so smug, Ryuji wishes he could kick him in his fucking teeth (something he clearly couldnt do bc hes already been knocked flat on his ass). And sometimes he wins, and hes so shocked and HAPPY about it; he doesnt miss the way Goro looks away from him pouting like a brat (‘no fucking way are u POUTING man, what a sore loser 😭’). Goro and his uptight personality is thrown out the window completely and its so fun and refreshing to see. Hes tall and imposing w broad shoulders and toned arms and if Ryuji is staring, he finds himself immediately distracted when Goros cheerful, softspoken voice asks if hes willing to go another round.

I love it 👉🏾👈🏾 Ryujis got a complicated relationship w violence but it helps to have people he trusts engage with it in a way that doesnt make him feel like some brute. Theyre all kind of itching to beat the shit out of things for multiple reasons, but instead of taking that out on each other, they spend time training one another so that they can beat the shit out of OTHER things better. Its an efficient system 😊

[raveneira]

Hola amiga. Me alegra mucho saludarte y escribirte.

Cómo ya sabrás me gustan muchísimo tus análisis, me siento muy contenta cada vez que los leo, por eso estoy aquí pidiendo que nos hables sobre lo que piensas que pasará con sarada cuando descubra que sasuke está mal. Y también que nos hables de lo que piensas de la última interacción que tuvo kawasara, que te pareció?

Espero no ser inoportuna. Te mando un abrazo. Gracias por tus escritos.

No no its ok you didnt do anything wrong, I dont mind answering questions lol and Im glad you like my analysis, I appreciate your positive feedback so thank you.

As for what I think Sarada might do when she discovers Sasuke is wrong [thats what google translated it as] I think you mean when she discovers he's been turned into a tree? if so then I think she'll be pretty worried but she wont blame Boruto or have any anger towards him because this writing ALWAYS has to make her just so understanding and forgiving towards him about EVERYTHING but NOT others because this manga forgot that her idol was Naruto and she literally said she wanted to be like him, someone people can rely on who she'll reach out to and save the way Naruto saved her, but again this manga done forgot that character trait unfortunately.

So what do I think is gonna happen? she'll be shocked and upset but wont blame Boruto and instead blame herself for sending her dad off with him which got him into this situation because of her selfish request, which may open the door FINALLY for some big character development because this is NOT the first time her selfishness and recklessness has resulted in somebody else getting hurt.

So maybe this might be the time for Sarada to get some long overdue character development as she finally realizes her actions, or more correctly, LACK of action has consequences, and that when she jumps in or makes requests without thinking long term about the consequences or even if its a good idea to begin with, she's gotta deal with the consequences of it which more often than not will be negative.

Boruto no longer has his eye because of her, Sasuke has been turned into a tree unconscious while a 10 tails tree clone of him is eventually gonna try and kill them all because of her, HER CHOICES caused this outcome, the only positive that came out of something she did so far was saving Boruto's life, but at what cost? she saved Boruto at the cost of her father, she 'protected' Boruto at the cost of his eye because he ended up protecting her instead, do you see the pattern here? so hopefully seeing her father as a tree finally gives her a wake up call that she NEEDS to do better going forward and actually THINK before she does things instead of just acting in the moment without any thought of how things could go wrong.

Naruto was headstrong and reckless too, but he never caused THIS type of bad shit to happen as a result of his recklessness because even HE used his brain somewhat before he acted. The worst hes done was willingly let Kurama take over to attack Orochimaru for taking Sasuke which resulted in him attacking Sakura and giving her a really bad wound, which when told he caused this what do you think he did? he never let Kurama take over like that again and vowed to rely on his own strength so he would NEVER cause harm to anyone else like that ever again.

Sarada unfortunately has not learned that lesson yet which she should've when she made Boruto lose his eye but I digress...maybe this development was saved for the timeskip so lets see if she finally gets it after seeing what happened to her dad, only time will tell.

Now onto how I feel about the KawaSara interaction this chapter...well Im gonna be brutally honest, I dont HATE it but I dont love it either and its not even because the interaction itself was bad nah I actually like their little rivalry they have right now, it adds spice and an obstacle Kawaki has to deal with but also the one person [besides Sumire] he doesnt have to watch his words with and can just be himself with. But let me get my gripes out of the way first and then I'll go into the positives.

My gripe with the interaction is Sarada's attitude and dialogue because it just makes her look both stupid and petty for no danm reason

First off shes telling them to confirm with Ada about what happened, why is she let alone ANYONE treating Ada as a reliable source when she didnt even warn them about Code's ambush? when she didnt even send Daemon out to fight him which is LITERALLY the whole reason their all even letting them stay there? lets not forget that Ada can easily just LIE about anything she wants like she did about Boruto killing Naruto, they literally have specialized ninja that they KNOW are trustworthy who actually DO work for them that they could ask to verify Sarada's story by peeking into her brain but no she chooses to reccomend asking Ada for confirmation, thats dumbass moment number 1.

Her remark about Kawaki being Otsutsuki too was just plain PETTY for no danm reason, and stupid as hell in this context because Boruto has Momo inside of him [pause] actively trying to take him over so he can kill Kawaki, make a divine tree, destroy all life on the planet to make a chakra fruit so he can eat it and become a god, SHE KNOWS THIS

Yet shes comparing that to Kawaki who doesnt have Isshiki looming over him threatening to take over at any time, he simply has his powers, and with his powers he wants to wipe out ALL OTHER OTSUTSUKI WHO ARE ACTUAL THREATS TO THE WORLD and that INCLUDES Boruto since he DOESNT HAVE CONTROL OVER MOMOSHIKI AND HE IS SHOWN SEVERAL TIMES ABLE TO TAKE OVER BORUTO WHENEVER HE WANTS UNDER THE RIGHT CONDITIONS, so her comment here was just petty, which made Kawaki's response all the more depressing.

He explains to her that he's an Otsutsuki that kills Otsutsuki and that his power only exists to do that, and once he wipes them all out he'll gladly die, but until then he will do whatever it takes, and she has ZERO reaction to this and just says she wont let him do what he wants as a shinobi who aims to be Hokage 🤦‍♀️ like everything he said literally went in one ear and out the other GIRL BYE.

He's literally calling her out on her stupidity and she doesnt even catch it, she was petty pretty much saying well if all Otsutsuki are enemies are enemies that should be killed doesnt that include you, and his response is yea it does and I fully intend to die with all the rest of em but not till I get them first, and she just...she just doesnt even hear that.

You'd think there'd atleast be a pause like 'danm I didnt mean for you to actually agree to that' but nah she just moved past that like he didnt even say it and is just like 'I wont let you do what you want' when thats literally what hes been doing for 3 years straight while she's been getting nothin but ignored 😭 seriously this writing hates her so much because who tf really thought this was good dialogue for her? this only works if she was actually DOING something to hinder Kawaki in some way, which she hasnt, so she just looks goofy and unserious.

But thats it for my gripes, now for my positives.

For starters I like how this confrontation resembles their one back in chapter 28 when they first really interacted and they became friends

I love how even though the subject their arguing about is different, the paneling is still the same, Sarada appearing behind Kawaki and calling him out for doing something wrong despite not knowing all the details, Kawaki turning around and getting in her face to tell her off, and the Hokage stopping it from before it gets ugly and they both settle down as their told.

What I like about this is that when you look at these scenes side by side you can see the development between then and now, back then Kawaki had ZERO respect for Sarada, called her an asshole and basically told her to mind her business while yelling in her face.

Now Kawaki doesnt snap at her at all, the roles are actually reversed now to where Sarada is the one being more hostile than he is. Kawaki, unlike before, doesnt just shut her down and tell her to mind her business, but he actually takes time to explain to her when he really doesnt have to. See here.

Kawaki says does he really have to say this again? meaning they have had this conversation before more than once, so he has no reason to repeat himself anymore than he already has and could easily have brushed her off without saying a thing or just simply told her to shut up and butt out but he didnt.

Instead he takes time to not only repeat himself, but breaks down in detail EXACTLY what his motivations are, why hes doing this, and that he fully intends to die for all he's done by the end of this. Just like before, he gets in her face, but its nowhere near as aggressive as in 28 where he was actually being intimidating, but here he's relaxed, talking calm, and looking her in the eye, and responding to what she said, rather than ignoring it completely and just yelling at her to shut up.

Why is that significant? because his last line really hits home when you realize the subtext and see how meaningful it is.

Think about this for a second, for 3 years now everyone has been brainwashed into thinking he's Boruto, have been treating him like Boruto, have remembered him as Boruto, have been looking at him, talking to him, loving/respecting him AS BORUTO.

Sarada is the ONLY person [lets leave Sumire out of this cuz we havent seen them interact yet] who treats Kawaki AS Kawaki, the only one who when she's talking to him she's talking to KAWAKI, when shes thinking of him shes thinking of KAWAKI, when she looks at him she sees KAWAKI, anyway she treats him she is treating him as KAWAKI.

This may not seem significant on the surface but lemme put it into a little more perspective.

This is what Kawaki has had to deal with every, single, day, for 3 years straight since Omnipotence happened. Kawaki never WANTED or ASKED for ANY of this, but no matter how hard he tried everything just kept going more and more to shit because of him, but atleast back then he still had his own identity, but now? everyday is a whole new kind of hell he has to endure that wont go away no matter how much he rejects it.

Just before Omnipotence Kawaki said what he really felt about himself, what he saw himself as, and thats what makes this situation he's in now so hellish, because to Kawaki he's a nobody, an outsider that nobody would mourn if he died, he tells Ada to use her all seeing eye to look at him and see him for the powerless piece of garbage that he is.

This is what he thinks of himself, now lets see what he thinks of Boruto and then it'll all make sense.

Kawaki puts Boruto on a pedastal similar to Naruto but not nearly as strong obviously, but the point is, Kawaki sees Boruto as someone who NOBODY WILL BE WILLING TO KILL, as someone nobody would even CONSIDER killing regardless of the threat he poses, as the HOKAGES SON literally NOBODY would EVER turn against him, and NOBODY would ever even think of killing him knowing the consequences of nobody ever forgiving them for it.

Keywords to pay attention to here

He's the Hokage's son! Lord 7ths son!

Who in Konoha could kill him? the Hokages son?

An act that would turn all your friends into foes! who'd ever agree to take on such a task?

Why'd it have to be him!?

Kawaki emphasizes Boruto being 'The Hokage's son' several times, but I want you to pay attention to how he says 'Lord 7ths son' as well, remember chapter 60? Naruto officially claims Kawaki as his son, even if not on paper, Kawaki was just as much his son as Boruto now.

But look at how Kawaki percieves it, HE doesnt see himself as Naruto's son at all and sadly Naruto didnt do a good job convincing him, because when he mercy killed Boruto BY HIS REQUEST Naruto did NOT stand by him and kept his distance, acting awkward around him, and even sounding forced when he tried to give the 'everyone is family to the Hokage' speech which alone right there showed the distance between them now, because in chapter 60 Kawaki was his son, in 69 he's the same as any other villager and believe me, Kawaki felt that and thats why none of his attempts at reassuring him worked because he knew it wasnt entirely genuine and that he indeed held some resentment towards Kawaki for what he did, that Kawaki clearly was nowhere near the same importance as Boruto and that in the end Naruto would turn his back on Kawaki before he ever would Boruto no matter WHAT hes done or will do.

Am I dragging Naruto? no, obviously his bond with his biological son will be stronger than the one with his adopted one hes only known less than a year. But I will say when has that ever stopped Naruto before? he only really bonded with Iruka for a year before the timeskip and he viewed him like a father, he only interacted and bonded with Sasuke for a year and he considered him a brother he was willing to go to hell and back for, he knew Gaara for less than a year and he was IN TEARS when he heard the Akatsuki had attacked and killed him and nearly beat Deidara to death so bad Kakashi had to use the seal to calm him down before he went full Kurama mode.

So keep in mind while I do understand where Naruto is coming from as a parent, I still have to point out the inconsistency with his character because blood ties have NEVER mattered to him but it was always the BONDS he felt with the people themselves, whether short lived or long, Naruto always clung to those bonds WITH HIS LIFE and he instills this very message into Sarada in Gaiden, yes, the same Naruto in the sequel now, not past young Naruto like people try to argue saying 'he grew up' cuz no, this is grown parent of two kids Naruto preaching the EXACT SAME MINDSET.

So yeah, Im calling out the inconsistency with his character in the sequel because THIS IS HOW KISHIMOTO WROTE HIM EVEN IN THE PRESENT ERA its literally what the entire plotline of Gaiden was about, learning to value and treasure your bonds regardless of blood ties. Naruto literally grew up without NO family do he literally had to FIND and MAKE one for himself, and hes never done any more or less for his blood fam than he did for his found family.

But unfortunately thats no longer the case in Boruto so lets get back to that.

So you see the point? Naruto, atleast in the sequel is a total liar, he promised to keep Kawaki safe, he made him feel like this was his home, told him that they all see him as family now, he called him his son, everybody was telling him that this is his home now no matter what anyone says his place is in Konoha and Kawaki was almost starting to believe it.

But when Naruto's biological son was killed by Kawaki at his request everything changed, nobody was on his side, nobody visited him even though they didnt even know the truth of what happened yet, Naruto wasnt looking at him with sincerity anymore and his words were scripted word for word just what he always says to everybody, but not anything personal from the heart like he usually does. Yes their conversation was interupted, but he never made any attempt to continue it either and simply left Kawaki to sit with his half hearted 'forgiveness' anyone who knows Naruto knew it wasnt sincere.

So where am I going with this? that was the turning point, that is when Kawaki realized and accepted that he was completely and utterly alone and felt isolated from everyone else.

This is why he says what he does to Ada and why his words hit so hard because they let you see just how utterly ALONE and REJECTED he actually feels. He doesnt feel like hes a part of Konoha, he doesnt feel like Narutos son, he doesnt feel like anyone would care if he died, its literally PROVEN right then and there how easy it was for them to put a kill order out on him without hesitation just for THINKING he did something to Naruto and ATTEMPTING to kill Boruto but none of these people gave a DANM when Boruto stabbed Sasuke's eye out, tried to kill Kawaki twice, tried to kill Naruto, oh and ironically tried to get Shikamaru killed too, the same guy who put a kill order out on Kawaki didnt push for any kind of punishment on Boruto.

'But that was Momoshiki' so what? who's body is he in? who's body did he use to commit all those horrible acts? when Gaara kept failing to be able to control the one tails his dad tried to have him killed before he'd end up destroying the village [no I am not defending Rasa fk that guy Im just pointing out the principle] if somebody is a danger to the village, even if its of no fault of their own, IF THEY ARE A THREAT TO THE VILLAGE then they have to be eliminated, so the it was Momoshiki excuse doesnt fly because regardless they have NO way of controling Momoshiki and preventing him from coming out, nor do they have a concrete way of forcing him back once hes taken over unless under very specific circumstances which even then if he feels like thats gonna happen he can dip to another dimension through his karma and they'll have a hell of a hard time finding him if he does.

Bottom line? Kawaki saw that for him he was disposable, he was a nobody, someone they didnt care if he died and would kill easily without hesitation and NOBODY would complain, but Boruto? let me repeat Kawaki's words.

He's the Hokage's son! Lord 7ths son!

Who in Konoha could kill him? the Hokages son?

An act that would turn all your friends into foes! who'd ever agree to take on such a task?

Why'd it have to be him!?

Do I need to say more? Boruto is the Hokage's son, Naruto's son, NOBODY in Konoha would ever dream of killing him, because killing Boruto would turn literally everyone against them regardless of what harm he's caused and what threat he poses for the future, they will be hated for it BECAUSE HE IS THE HOKAGE'S SON.

And because Kawaki is the only one strong enough to do it and accept all the consequences that comes with it, he's the one suffering that exact fate, but whats saddest about all this...is that everything he thought about himself was proven right, every awful thing he thought about himself was proven 100% right.

So what does that have to do with his and Sarada's convo there? well I needed to break down all of what happened beforehand so I could say how much it probably means to Kawaki that Sarada isnt affected.

The reason I needed to point all that out was to make sense of why being treated like Boruto by everyone is so hellish, because he KNOWS how they really feel about him, they say it to him constantly.

Mitsuki is always following Kawaki around full of bloodlust that Kawaki says is suffocating and Mitsuki keeps saying how he wont forgive and definitely will kill Boruto for what he did

You have 2 random Jonin he's working with protecting the village just casually talking about how good it would be if Boruto and Code took eachother out

Then you have Hima calling him big brother the way she would Boruto which only irritates him more because he knows that affection isnt for him which is why he rejects it so harshly

So imagine how relieving it must be for Kawaki to have someone that he doesnt have to listen wish him dead to his face without even knowing it, someone not full of bloodlust wanting his head on a stake, someone not calling out to him affectionately because they think he's someone he isnt, and most of all...someone that he knows without a doubt that whatever she says or does for him, is for HIM.

So quite frankly her hostility contrary to popular belief actually doesnt even bother him, he welcomes it because he feels its what he deserves and more than that because its the only genuine thoughts and feelings aimed at him, unfortunately we dont have enough chapters yet to see the full scope of how this has gotten to him but I imagine 3 years of being seen as someone your not has to be EXHAUSTING, so even if Sarada is being hostile towards him, it probably means the world to him that shes one person who sees him for who he really is, Kawaki, not Boruto.

His words to her in that last panel is what made it clear to me that he actually doesnt mind her opposing him, he tells her point blank that he plans to die once he has wiped out all the Otsutsuki threats there are, why thats significant is because he'd never have to say this to anyone else, why? cuz they think he's Boruto so why does he need to tell them his goals as Kawaki? even if he did why would he tell them he's gonna off himself at the end of it? there'd be no reason to.

Not only that but he's said this more than once to her, implying they've bumped heads about this exact subject more than once, which again if Kawaki was annoyed by her and wanted to be left alone he would've never got into this conversation in the first place and just ignored her or told her to shut up. The fact that they've talked about this more than once says alot, because Kawaki has no reason to, once was enough, but if Kawaki is taking time out to explain the same thing over and over to her then thats more than enough proof that shes different from everyone else.

Everyone else he drowns out, ignores, or tells to stop acting or speaking to him a certain way, but Sarada? no matter how many times she confronts him about this same subject, he always takes time to explain it. You could say that was just exposition for the readers but in that case why have him say he was repeating himself? he could've just said 'Do I really have to spell it out for you?' which leads to the same exposition witn NO implications of them ever having this convo before, but the fact that they specified that he was repeating this, means they wanted the audience to know this was NOT the first time they've had this talk.

Personally, like I said we need to get more insight into Kawaki's thoughts now before I can make a accurate analysis, but personally and this is me being unbiased and basing it solely on Kawaki's character up till this point, but I feel like in his own subconscious way he enjoys Sarada's company and hostility towards him because its the one thing he knows is for him, it probably puts him at ease whenever Sarada confronts him about anything because its the only time where he can be himself now without being looked at as weird or OOC because hes not acting like Boruto, he was probably relieved when it was revealed she wasnt affected because it meant he wasnt totally alone with only Ada who he cant stand knowing the truth, but his former friend/teammate.

I imagine he felt indifference towards Sumire because she made it clear she was scared of him ever since she found out he killed Boruto, but until we get some actual interaction or thoughts from either of them we wont know for sure.

Anyway, I personally feel like Kawaki keeps repeating himself when he doesnt have to because she's the only one he can to. Unless injured or getting a check up Kawaki doesnt interact with Sumire at all, and Sumire from what we've seen so far has been keeping a low profile since she sees the situation is hopeless trying to convince people at this point, but Sarada is the complete opposite and is persistent no matter how many times she fails she is very loudly and vocally opposing Kawaki and Konoha. She says herself that she wont repeat herself too, meaning she's also said this to Kawaki more than once as well, and thats that she wont let him do what he wants as a ninja who aims to be Hokage.

These words are crucial because she's said this to Kawaki more than once about her Hokage dream, usually something that gets repeated alot in the Narutoverse by someone, especially to someone in particular, usually ends up having a really big significance in their relationship down the line. See Sasuke's 'your annoying' for example or him calling Naruto Usuratonkachi, or of course the 'because your my friend'. It doesnt matter what it is, if its something thats repeated consistently, its gonna have some big significance be it romantic or platonic, either way its gonna mean something big for those characters.

Anyway going back to Sarada, the fact that Sarada has been repeating herself too on this same issue just goes to show how adament and consistent she's been in opposing him, unlike in chapter 28 where she backed down and felt nervous when Kawaki got in her face, now she stands firm and looks him straight in the eye the same way he does her. He's not trying to intimidate her, but make her understand the situation and his perspective, and Sarada isnt trying to intimidate or threaten him either, but make him understand that she wont go along with doing things this way and wont back down no matter what, because the way Kawaki and Shikamaru is running things isnt how Naruto would've wanted, which is why she is their biggest opposers because she looked up to Naruto and wanted to do things the Naruto way.

Its no coincidence that in the very first chapter Sarada tells Shikamaru off about disagreeing with her opposition, its no coincidence that she snapped back using Naruto as her example of going against everyone to fight for what and who she believes in and tells him that the Hokage she looks up to is Naruto not him.

Then in chapter 4 she's now telling Kawaki something similar, that she wont let him do things his way as a ninja who aims to be Hokage, but not just any Hokage, but Naruto.

I dont want this to get too long so I'll sum up my final thoughts.

I believe Kawaki is relieved and subconsciously enjoys Sarada opposing him and is probably lowkey happy to not be alone in this situation with nobody he could talk to as just himself, to look at someone and be looked at and know that their looking at him, being around Sarada is probably the only time he can actually breathe without being subjected to brainwashed people treating him like someone hes not, or hearing this and that person wishing him dead, but with Sarada he can actually just speak and act as himself.

But most importantly anything she does or says to him will mean so much more to him than anyone else because from lets say Hima or Shikadai or even Inojin, if one of them were to get badly hurt or even die for him Kawaki will know its only because they thought he was Boruto and that they never would've done that if they knew it was him. But if Sarada does that, it'll have so much more weight now due to omnipotence because not only is she unaffected by it which means she did this KNOWING its for Kawaki, but the fact that even after everything hes done and how mad she is at him for it, she still put her life on the line for him or any other big gesture she'd do that'd show she cares. So when that moment happens its definitely gonna be an interesting scene, assuming Ikemoto doesnt botch it somehow...we shall see.

As for Sarada I believe in her own roundabout way she's trying to make Kawaki see that this isnt what Naruto would want, that in her own way she's trying to make him see the flaws in his logic, when she said he's and Otsutsuki too she wasnt saying that he should just off himself now or that she wanted him to die but that if all Otsutsuki are the enemy no matter what their motives are then doesnt that make him an enemy as well? regardless of his motives? and if all Otsutsuki must die simply for being Otsutsuki then shouldnt she just kill him right now? not that she could but she could try, she could say 'I will kill you someday' or some other death threat if she were actually saying he should die 100% and thats what she wanted but she doesnt.

Overall Sarada is just trying to make Kawaki see the holes in his logic, to make him see that this isnt what Naruto would've wanted, that trying to carry the weight of it all by himself isnt gonna be effective long term, especially now when something FAR BIGGER is going on that only Boruto knows about, so regardless of how he feels they are gonna have to set aside their differences and work together to deal with a far bigger threat and resolve a way bigger problem. Kawaki doesnt even argue with her about that, he listens to her and hears her out and most likely will agree to it since that will be the most efficient course of action.

Hopefully this will start to make him see that the solo route isnt the way, which if the FF isnt retconned we know it wont be, but maybe for a moment he'll see sometimes teamwork is nessecary and that he really CANT do it all alone. I believe thats the message Sarada is trying to send to him, the same one Naruto sent Sasuke, whether or not she'll be successful remains to be seen but for now I look forwards to seeing how they both develop from here and hear even more about whats been going on between them over these 3 years.

Antis think them being at odds and rivals with eachother now is somehow a negative that kills the ship when thats literally how many endgame ships interacted for a while before eventually coming together lol like ppl fr just gonna act like Jerza, Zervis, VegeBul, Taiga x Ryu, Tonari no kaibatsu-kun, Suzuka, Reimei no Arcana, and so on don't exist.

So like...I dunno, maybe ppl just aint seen alot of manga/anime or hell even media in general but regardless this really aint the ship killer antis think it is, its honestly just the beginning lol but Im never one to count chickens too early so I wont get too cocky, but antis need to start bein humble too cuz they are WAY too confident about KawaSara's downfall when things are just gettin good lol but hey more material for us to laugh at later when their once again wrong about everything they say about the ship and what'll happen etc.

I apologize for the lost post but I wanted to properly express my thoughts as best and clearly as I could but I might've over explained 😭 my apologies...but I hope you enjoyed my little breakdown regardless.

[battle-subway-aftershow]

whats up everybody it's me, anon, to give you some love, for the feedback thing. You might be able to tell who this is but whatever I have plausible deniability.

Anyways

Firstly this technically isn't tumblr feedback but your art? fucking stellar I love your art, the sequence with the fox still lives rent free in my head, all your plotlines do honestly so, yeah, curse you and your blorbos theyre all in my head (not really It's Fun)

So specifics, um, well honestly all your ocs are cool but I'll try to just specifically list a few here, and not all of them so you don't have to read a bigger wall of text than this probably is gonna be.

So Paris? Man, Paris, I think it may be obvious he's one of my favorites among, like, all the characters on this site honestly. I'd be fine with him talking about the fucking weather with how you write him. Like, a guy who wants to do good but bad shit keeps happening and it's kinda messing him up, but he's putting on this brave face because yknow, other people need help and comfort too! His relationships with other characters can't be explained with one sentence and that's so GOOD. Paris is great because he has so many layers to his character it's hard to describe him briefly because there's just so much going on inside his head and I want to dissect his thoughts. He's so. So multifacited? I guess is the word? I wanna see how he reacts to everything because he always reacts in such an iinteresting way! mannnnnnnn

AND AND AND LIAM!!! god liam, I need to know more, you're hurting me, I know something is Up but I don't know What and I know that's the Point but I'm going insane I love this warrior skitty fan I think I would kill someone for him.

Alzis!!!!!!!!! The fucking guy. I want to shove him in a locker. I also like his typing style a lot. Youre really good at, writing like, mysteries and keeping people hooked you know? It's evident on all your blogs but especially on Alzis' (and Liams)

LUMI isnt too active but I honestly love Lumi I want her to be okay but like, yknow there's trauma there, I dunno what exactly but you can tell there's something raaaaah, I love lumi,

KANE IS SO NEAT TOO KANEEEE kane whats going on with you im shaking him tell me more kane whats UP

writing this I realize there's a pattern of "you're really good at making me wanna see more" so I wanted to reiterate that. You're good at doing a hook, you're good at giving people just enougu to make them fucking CRAZY.

oh btw I love what youre doing with the multiversal stuff as well I've always loved multiverse plotlines.

Man, I hope these conpliments are any good, if its not you can just ignore this ask, I'm on anon gor a reason, so if this sucks you'll never know who sent it, yippee!

@tinkers-pokehub Im tagging you too because we're both writing this stuff

anyways I had to keep this in my askbox for a while and just. rotate it. hooollyyy shiit holy shit, cried a little (POSITIVE) seeing this. AUAOUGHH???

I have 0 coherent words besides "Thank you holy shit" and "There's a lot planned for the future" (especially for liam(+william @/sound-type-advocate), alzis, and paris!!! YIPPIEEEE

[kuvvydraws]

Solitale AU

Praetorius' HCs 💙

First • <<Prev ← Part 14 → Next>>

While he no longer keeps a belief in anything holy, Praetorius is highly respectful of religious spaces. He understands the dedication of the self to something bigger, the chain it represents for some and the gift it is for others, and he always tries to keep his mouth shut and polite when such topics come around. If you ask him, on the other hand, about his own perception of anything greater than himself, he gets bitter and resentful — despite his dedication to his role as the Commander, after Surfacing and realizing how much he could have been and grown, he sours and grieves what couldn't have been. Don't talk to him about his God, for all he cares that fucker had all but forgotten about him. Even worse, perhaps his suffering was on purpose... Just let him change the topic.

Much like religious spaces, Praetorius feels the reverence of places where the dead lay. A different type of seriousness gets a hold on him at cemeteries, crypts, graveyards... So many people he has seen perish, so many he has killed himself, both in battle and executed, so many fallen to hunger... Regardless of what kind of life they have run, it was over, and very few individuals, no matter their species, feel calm in the face of death. That challenge alone is worthy of respect in his eyes.

He's not very ritualistic, nor believes in the manifestation of luck — Praetorius is a hardcore ride or die with actions and free will. Fate is a fallacy, and how could the future be written in the stars when monsters have been deprived of them for ages? Countless years in the dark, with no hope for something better, and what for? How many have perished, wishing to the glittering crystals in Waterfall, and saw their lives end with rotten optimism? Reality is harsher, but Praetorius would rather it be so.

After a few months on the Surface, once monsters have settled amongst humans and he can afford to exist without having a panic attack every time he has a free moment, Praetorius spent a lot of his days off trekking back to Mt Ebott. He would return Underground to explore the Castle and its vicinity, and then bit by bit, all the cave down to the Ruins. At first, he tells himself he's doing his rounds to make sure no one was left behind - no matter how many patrols he did in the beginning when the Barrier shattered... It'd be weeks later, after he realizes he's insanely going back over and over, obsessed with a life he was forced to leave behind, that he wills himself to break the habit.

He doesn't know much about fashion, as stated before, but he finds animal print hideous. It's such a visceral reaction to him even his eternal mask of neutrality breaks when looking at it, a sneer cracking over the facade with the speed of lighting. Somehow, the effect is different if he sees the pattern on real creatures, be it a cow or a leopard, but that, printed on cloth? He wishes he had eyes so he could tear them out of his sockets.

[jewishrizahawkeye]

hellooooooooooo!

since its story day today for camp swiftblr i’m gonna give a brief synopsis of my faerie story to update yall/force me to write! (i totally didn’t plan this day just for me lol)

the story is two parts currently however it’s very long plot synopsis so i’ll be just doing part one:

part 1/book 1: The Secret of You and I

the story opens with Archie Knight, a self proclaimed alchemist who is the pseudo doctor for his village, going into the forest at night to look for a magic flower that is supposed to have powerful magic that can help cure illnesses. he is looking for it to make medicine and help his village as while he is a good doctor, he still isn’t fully trained and feels guilty about not being able to help everyone.

as he looks through the forest he is careful to not cross over to the faeries side, faeries are very protective of their territory and stories are passed around about the dangers of encountering faeries. however, he can’t find anything and decides to cross to the faerie side. he is able to find the flower and tries to get back, but it is getting late and he can’t find his way back.

as he’s wandering he hears someone following him and realizes he’s being hunted. he quickly starts running in hopes of making it back but is caught. he’s then transported back to the edge of the forest, his village in sight, and is laying on the ground. he looks through his bang and sees the flowers he took are missing. he’s devastated because he’ll have to go back again.

he looks back toward the tree line and sees someone watching him. but just as soon as he sees them they’re gone and he returns home, already making plans to go back again.

the following night we meet Aoifee (EE-FA), the Queen of the faerie forest who is currently guarding the forest as there’s a shortage of guards. she sees the human return and is perplexed. she knows about the story’s humans tell about them and is confused why someone would return? especially since he seems unaware about her watching him as he seems more interested in the forest. she finds him interesting and eventually makes herself knows, scaring the shit out of him.

she starts asking vague questions, why is he back? what is he looking for? what type of alchemy he’s interested in?

he’s confused. why is she not throwing him out or chasing him down like before? she only seems interested in him, but just as he lets his guard down she throws him out. she tells him to stop looking for the flower and leaves.

though he doesn’t listen and keeps coming back. their nights follow the same pattern of talking and her eventually throwing him out. over time they grow more comfortable and start to tease one another, neither thinking much of it. though she eventually has to ban him from the forest, she claims it’s to dangerous for him. when he asks for why she tells him how a human came to the first once and a faerie fell in love with them long ago and how he eventually killed her. ever since then she refuses to let any human close enough to a human to allow that to happen again. he tries to convince her otherwise but she doesn’t listen. he eventually blurts out he’s in love with her. as she’s blushing she says, “that’s exactly what the human said before he killed her.”

he however doesn’t listen to her. he comes back every night for weeks and sits outside the forest. after the first week she comes out and asks why he’s doing this, he says:

they go on like this for about five weeks, her coming out once a week to ask is he’s still doing this, he always says yes. though she does tease him and is secretly happy he returns because she has feelings for him to (she refuses to ever say i love you because she doesn’t want to ever give someone that power over her. she’s got issues).

after week five we formally meet aoifee’s inner circle, who are her closest friends and confidants… they are also the only people allowed to tease her cause they’re not scared of her and they’re just RIPPING into her about him because they know she’s down bad. and no matter how much she denies it she’s blushing furiously and it’s making them laugh even more.

she then sends them away and says she’ll watch him. they all roll there eyes and say “sure jan”. he fell asleep at the edge of the forest, he’s been at this for five weeks, and she watches him. she contemplates her choices and eventually goes down and whispers in his ear that if he comes back tomorrow she’ll show him her favorite part of the forest.

he doesn’t hear that and comes back again, though he is contemplating giving up cause HES EXHAUSTED. eventually she comes out and invites him in. she guides him to a lake with a lavender field next to it and as she’s about to kiss him she pulls away and says someone else is there. archie’s confused but then his best friend bursts in asking wtf he’s doing. archie is pissed off but then his besties like “my daughters sick” and he leaves to go back to the village.

aoifee’s like, “it’s okay. he’ll come back tomorrow.”

he shows up a week late and is hoping she’s not pissed off… she is. until he explains that his goddaughter was sick then everyone else got sick and he had to work. she understands and forgives him then kisses him. he is like over the moon happy but is also just on the edge of passing out. aoifee takes him back to the lavender field and shows him a bed made in it and he falls asleep. when he wakes up they talk and officially start a serious situationship, both down bad and in love but neither thinking it’ll last but enjoy kissing each other anyway.

they go on like this for awhile, having tiny adventures together. she eventually takes him to a secret cave that shows a part of the faerie kingdom. while there he sees there’s the magic flowers he’s been looking for and asks if he can take it. she says no.

he then asks why it’s important and she explains how it’s grown directly from the magic of the earth. because it’s so potent human can’t handle it. if humans consume the flower, in anyway, for too long they can become addicted to it and it will slowly kill them. because of this they guard it from humans.

she also explains how it’s apart of their culture and traditions to faeries. when he asks about this she explains one of the traditions that is no longer practiced was the process of two people entwining their souls (soulmates). this means that each person shares half their soul with the other, forever carrying them with them as well as being bonded together and always trying to find the other, because they can’t feel their soul around them. she says it’s just a myth and not done anymore. but that the real power came from both parties willingly giving themselves to the other and allowing them to be forever entwined together.

he finds it interesting and asks more questions, then asks if a human and faerie could share souls. she reminds him of a human consumes to much of the flower they’ll die. he points out that wasn’t what he asked. she then says in theory yes but she doesn’t know of any stories of that having been done before.

he asks what she’d do if they entwined their souls. she laughs but doesn’t stop him, in reality she is worried about him leaving and falling in love with someone else or dying (cause they age differently) and likes the idea of them being entwined because even after they part they’ll always have the memory of this.

after they entwine their souls they kiss until the sun comes up. they return to the forests edge and she doesn’t want to be apart from him so she asks if she can visit him for a few days. he says yes, excitedly!

later that night she sneaks into his village and goes to his house. they’re excited to see the other but they’re both disturbed by archie’s bestie once again (this man has the most impeccable timing ever) and says his daughter broke her leg. as him and archie talk he asks who’s in his house. he says aoifee’s a friend of his sister and she’s staying temporarily. he invites her to come over while archie looks at his daughter, they try to find an excuse not for her to come but they can’t think of one.

they both go together and aoifee meets his wife and daughter. the bestie and his wife clock IMMEDIATELY she’s a faerie from the fact that he’s been out in the forest for like 6 months straight and a random girl shows up unannounced with a lame excuse. the wife gets to know her and likes her. after archie tends to his goddaughter they both return home, but aoifee hears him say that if she could stay in the village he’d marry her in a heartbeat.

they spend the week together, her going out into the village with him and everyone laughing over their lame excuse of being friends cause they catch them kissing sneakily. they also realize the entwining of souls is real and aoifee is like “oh fuck” but us lowkey happy. however, while our one day aoifee runs into someone who claims she’s a faerie and tries to expose her. everyone says to not mind him and that years ago he was attacked by faeries and since then always claims he sees them. aoifee and archie return home, she’s asks why he didn’t tell say he was still alive, she’s able to piece together he’s the man who attacked the faerie in the forest years ago. he says he didn’t know for sure if it was the same person and that he rarely goes out so he hoped they wouldn’t run into him.

she then explains that the faerie he killed was his sister. that she fell in love and he claimed he did to. he kept trying to convince her to leave and come live in the village but she kept declining. they don’t know what happened exactly but she was found dead by a river supposedly after she tripped and fell, her sister was a water faerie and she doesn’t believe this. aoifee had ended up chasing him out and have a warning shot to scare him off as she couldn’t bring herself to kill the person her sister loved.

he shows up uninvited and tells archie his side of the story through the door. she calls him a liar via the soulmate bond. he warns him about going out to the forest again as the faerie watch is upping their monitoring of the forest and implying that if aoifee stays longer he’ll prove she’s a faerie. archie and her plan on how to get her back to the forest and enlist the help of archie’s bestie. he then admits he knew she was a faerie.

they then travel what they think is far enough out that they can sneak her back in unharmed. archie walks her back to the forest and says they can keep seeing each other and to give it time but she says they can’t. then the faerie watch finds her and she teleports away. but they lined the forest with iron and she’s unable to perform magic properly, getting more and more disoriented and lost. they eventually find her and plan to take her back to the village. but archie finds her and carry’s her back toward the cave.

as archie is approaching the cave aoifee knows it’ll be the last time she sees him and says “i love you” for the first time. he’s both elated and devastated by this because he knows it’s a goodbye. once they reach the cave they’re giving their last goodbyes when archie is shot in the chest… then the head. he falls back into a lake and is dead. aoifee then has a round two with the guy that not only killed her sister but also her sorta boyfriend/mate and they fight and she ends up winning and kills him.

she then pulls archie’s body from the water and tries to revive him but he’s gone. HOWEVER members of the royal line have certain powers only available to them, and aoifee’s family is the ability to raise the dead. she tired it with her sister but it failed. though it’s successful with archie and he comes back to life and is now a faerie cause magic. bestie comes and finds them and helps come up with a story to explain to the village.

it ends on a bittersweet ending cause they do live happily ever after but there’s sorrow in it as he lost his old life.

and then like 80 years later three kids awaken an ancient being that threatens to destroy the world. but that’s the second book so that’s not important right now.

but that’s my story :) thank you for reading if you made it this far. happy story day for camp swiftblr!

[haysprite]

// DBD Chapter 27 Spoilers

Alrightyyy, I have some gripes with The Skull Merchant's lore that I wanna talk about real quick. I'll also be referring to her as Adriana, since that's a lot less of a pain to type out than... Y'know, Skull Merchant

I'm gonna be straight up and just say that I flat out do not like it. I'm super sad about that, because I was looking forward to what led to Adriana becoming The Skull Merchant. There were SOOOO many fun directions they coulda taken it, but god, it just feels like they fumbled the ball here? While the concept of a corrupt business woman is cool, I just don't think it fits her and her aesthetic. It just feels a bit all over the place, tbh, especially when in comparison to a good chunk of the original Killers. I got lost very easily, had to reread a lot, and overall just felt super messy.

Like, okay, Adriana stalking the dude that took her place as the top student? Okay okay, I see where we're goin with this- Oh, and it leads to nothing. Not a damn thing.

Why the fuck did her father leave after she returned home with all that money? Why didn't she have him post his own manga on the damn site she made, allowing him to feel like he's earning his own money? THEY COULDA HAD A FAMLIY BUSINESS HERE? HELLO?

The idea of her flipping companies is cool n all, and then wanting to take over em through killing... Cause like, let's be real, this shit could happen irl, probably has/does idfk. But I genuinely don't really understand how one thing led to another into her ACTUALLY killing people? I get greed overtaking her, but ehghgh it just felt super forced :(

What *I* personally wish they had done, would to have had Adriana start to obsess over the character of The Skull Merchant, hanging on to every story her father ever wrote about her. Adriana could begin to idolize her, seeing her as the hero of her stories, and soon would want to BECOME her. She would begin studying day and night how to work technology, spending hours upon hours learning and building drones, with the goal of becoming her idol.

After a while, her father could stop producing Sonhadores Sombrios, having moved past the idea and wanting to start anew with his work. This infuriated Adriana, who just wanted to hear more and more of The Skull Merchant's story, and was persistent that he continued. He continuously denied her, which drove Adriana further and further into madness as she wanted to continue the story herself. She would make sure that The Skull Merchant lived on, with or without her father's help.

Slowly but surely, Adriana started to find victims to gut, just like her hero. Poor, weak souls that would be lost on their paths. Her drones would aid her in her work, scouting out prey. Quick, and silent, she'd hunt at night, careful to spot any witnesses around before making her move. No one could figure out how these people died, though they soon realized a pattern in how they died: two slash marks straight through their chests.

This is where it could continue like normal: Her drone would be taken down by Thalita's kite, leaving her clueless about whether or not there were any witnesses around. Thalita and Renato would run into her, they'd run away, and then cut to them entering the realm.

It's nowhere near a perfect idea, but I feel like it would flow more easily? I dunno, its just what I immediately thought of after reading her backstory. I feel like she has a lot of potential, but so far, I'm just not digging her story unlike Thalita's and Renato's. Also, once again, I apologize if this is a bit all over, I just had to get my ideas out or else I woulda forgotten em lmaoo

[demcnsinmymind]

character info sheet.

Name. Aza/thoth

Name meaning. Blind idiot god, nuclear chaos, mindless dreamer, the deep dark et cetra

Alias.( ses ). see above, other fun names people have come up with : parasite, darling (that does turn up a lot somehow lmao), Azzy, demonic hitchhiker, little friend. Really. people are so much friendlier these days!

two pictures you like of your character.

okay, this one is a BIG one, since it pretty much started this entire idea.

I know I shit a lot on the second movie but this scene from it is just outright pivotal on my blog. The way Sean acted this scene, that second where he seems to realize what he's doing and that it's wrong, but then something instantly changes in his body language and he strangles the kid that much harder, followed by him saying 'he made me do it, I'm sorry' - that was the moment the possession idea was born. So in a way, that is a picture of the entity that's messing Collingwood and Lance right up.

Second one is not really a picture, but a very flashy video. The first minute of Clark's Winter Linn video has always been the visual representation of what I think this thing 'looks' like. No generic tentacle monster bullshit. But a thing that constantly shifts and changes in 'patterns' that don't make an real coherent sense. But picture that on a scale of a freaking galaxy.

three headcanons you never told anyone.

once again, I feel like I've shared sooo many headcanons already lmao

My version of it isn't your typical muhahaha evil. Hell, at times, it might even do something good, like getting rid of its own cult and such. I play entirely into the concept that it is chaos at its most basic and pure and entirely its own thing, doesn't adhere to any religious or natural law or black and white mentality, really. It isn't even that -smart- and cunning either. Don't get me wrong. It'll make your head spin with its sudden shifts in moods and ideas. It is outright scary how utterly unpredictable it is. It is disastrously flipping gi-normous with incredible power. If it bothered to gain all of them back and develop its full potential and everything that its cult wants, I'm talking universe ending OP type of power and knowledge. But the fun part is that it has no interest in that just yet, if ever. Frankly, it finds almighty power and omnipotence quite fucking boring and utterly predictable. All it cares about is mindless consuming and observing and manipulating. It will kill people and destroy things if it feels like it. But given its psychotic obsessions and the likes, it actually is fairly chill for the most part. Truth be told, it kinda enjoys snacking on powerful villians and evil peops/supernaturals more than your run at the mill normal human 9-5ers, no matter how many of them are really out there. Why go for bulk fast food when you can enjoy a lil well done gourmet diner you get handed in a very secret shady celebrity restaurant?

Once again cannot overstate enough how freaking obsessed this thing is with Lance. Jealous and clingy to the absolute fucking max. I go back and forth on how it'll handle his eventual death. Sometimes I like to think that it 'cares' about him so much it might just let him pass naturally eventually, really let him go so he can be at peace one day. But more and more, I come to the conclusion that it won't. It eventually will try to find a way to literally keep him forever. I'm talking, he gets taken out by a bullet or something, it'll bring him back. And it'll keep bring him back over and over again until there's nothing left to be brought back. That, or it'll go the vampire route with him in the verses I have for that. Meaning that it'll force some vamp to turn him for it so he'll be immortal and stay with it forever.

I just find it generally very interesting how they tick. I make it a big point that this possession isn't forceful or like your typical uncomfortable imprisoned in your own body type of deal. Eventually, it's almost elegant and respectful in a few ways, and obv very tight regardless. It is talking to him all the time. Comments on everything, constantly suggests things or makes fun of them. But it will respect his autonomy and privacy many times as well if he wants for it to be so. Eventually, he'll reluctantly turn it into a two way street and start talking to it a lot more as well, even ask it for its take on things since it knowing literally every last thing he does with the addition of its 'outside' perspectives can paint a pretty fucking accurate and scary picture. That's the point where the lines start blurring and they distort each other. In a way, it's scary how natural it all seems and how well this dance of theirs is choreographed. For the most part, it's because it's genuinely fascinated by the way he ticks and thinks, and because he produces so many struggles and doubts and emotions all by himself. It just has to lean back and enjoy the show. Or he gets to lean back and let it handle the shitty/risky situations without having to fear for his life anymore.

three things your character likes to do in their free time.

people watching 2. talking to people 3. reading. people's minds and the likes. or books. maybe a diary or two.

three people your character loves.

THE BOY

that's it. there are no three people.

two things your character regrets.

1. not stopping the lobotomy. Don't get it wrong, that level of fear and insanity was one of the biggest feasts to date. But the thing is - now that it's with him and ever so obsessed, no matter how much of a constant and easy food supply his trauma from that really is - it doesn't want as much of a scratch on him. It doesn't want him in physical pain. And if you ever get it started on the fact that he almost died on that table and that they almost ruined everything with that. If it wasn't for the fact that that attack and ritual was what made the possession possible, what made him able to host it, then it would absolutely undo that one.

2. Any time it's decided to let him talk to someone for longer than necessary, and where that results in him caring about those people, those caring about him, and them putting doubts in his head about his relationship with it. It's constantly and awkwardly trying to find the right balance between making him happy and getting him to like it more because of that, and keeping him from being too happy and interested in other people than itself.

three phobia's your character has.

losing the boy

that's it. Other than that it eats fear for fucking breakfast.

[viciousbite]

Valryn Profile

Synopsis: For thousands of years Valryn has wandered, a man carrying the curse of a dragon from ancient past. The world may have been cruel to him, but with resilience, he carries the pain of his past in his memory. For some he's a monster and to some, he's merely a silly man who wants to live at his own pace without conflict. Which is surprising, due to the sarcasm that weighs upon his tongue.

Race: Black Dragon. (Wasn’t born as one, has fully accepted his dragon side.) Gender: Male Orientation: Pansexual Birthday: 16th April

Appearance: TBA. Waiting on an updated design.  Height: 210 cm / 6′10 Feet ( All verses )

Faceclaim: Shall Fen Shall from Sugar Apple Fairytail

Personality:

Avoids fighting, prefers to dodge or take the attack instead of fighting back, has gained a thing for pain. (Masochist)

Fake smiles

Growling rumbles from throat when petted, it's like his purr.

Observant.

Sarcastic, funny little guy.

Lazy, fighting is effort.

Honest.

Likes: -Pain -Meat and other types of food. -Petting people's heads.

Dislikes: -Someone lying to him -Betrayal.

Skills/Powers:

Fire; Can generate blue fire and manipulate it to his will.

Super Strength, Stamina and Speed

Shapeshifting: Can partially or fully turn into a black dragon with four wings.

Sword fighting skills: Decent at fighting with one or two handed swords or Katanas. Creates his blade from his scales and fire.

Backstory:

In the World of Kristal, Weakness brought forward hunger for power, and once power was obtained, its use was directed towards those they feared. With power came consequences and those consequences weighed heavy upon the shoulders of a royal family of mortals. For weaklings to be capable of killing an ancient beast, a black scaled dragon, it was only fair that the dragon left the world with the words of a soul burning curse upon the one who gave it the killing blow.

The curse festered, hidden until the day the royal family gave birth to a blue eyed child… A child who later on was labeled as a monster and died. The pattern of blue eyed children continued for many years to come, centered around the royal family. One child always carried the same eyes, but as the royal family got more and more paranoid, they found ways to hide the children. Some kept alive, some not.

Generations passed and a male child with blue eyes was born once more. The Father, The King, was horrified, while the mother held her child, Valryn, with tenderness. The boy’s mother begged her husband to spare his life, and with a little spark of kindness, the father let the child live if they never stepped their foot back into the kingdom. From that day onwards, the mother and child was announced dead.

Valryn grew in the presence of his kind mother, secluded from the race of mortals. From a young age his body carried strong magic, and as he grew older, his mother told him everything. The curse, the reason why they lived there, everything. Honesty, a thing he learned from his mother. With the help of his mother, he learned to keep his mind calm, to control the surge of magic inside him. An itch, a burn within him remained.

Over the years, he realized how his mother grew older and weakened, while his body remained standstill since he was the age of 25. An effect of the curse within him. All he could do was take care of his mother to the end, and experience his first loss. A loss that made him take a step towards the population he was born in.

As it turned out to be, his father was alive, and he grieved the loss of Valryn’s mother when he realized who Valryn was. He no longer saw him as a monster, but he could never tell anyone else who he really was. The King had a new son, a son who would take the throne, as arrogant as Valryn expected him to be. Valryn, as he turned out to be, was soft on the inside and took the job to work as a guardian for the royal family. He remained there, surrounded by savages, even after his Father passed away.

His brother, was a sadist and power hungry. Add a conflict between the Gods of Kristal into it and the orders of a God, the man would do everything to show he was ‘the best’. Enslavement of beasts, people, to use for war. A sight that disgusted Valryn, but he knew he couldn’t help them without remaining calm, without a plan. The plan included himself and a group of crystal elves. Everything went as planned, the beasts and people were saved, but… at the sacrifice of Valryn’s freedom.

Torture, pain, tears, blood, suffering, and still… He never felt anger. He rather be hurt than see others suffer meaningless pain. Influence of his mother, he guessed.

He didn’t know how long the cycle of pain lasted, but one day, his wounded body was dragged in front of his brother, the King. A King who, literally, stood in the blood of his victims. As Valryn’s eyes focused, he finally saw it, the mangled corpses of the crystal elves he sought help from. Something snapped, a crack in his soul. Anger flooded in like a tide, and exploded outwards in a mighty roar of a dragon and blue flames. The whole world around him screamed along with him, and when he woke up… The world around him was silent.

Everything was burned into ash, people and houses alike. A heavy weight nestled within Valryn’s chest, and the word monster carved into his soul. His body dragged him along with no destination.

In the world he lived, everything was seen, his sins never forgotten, never forgiven. But the only God, who approached him came forward with an offer. An offer Valryn couldn’t reject, a solution to never lose control again. The consequences? Pain, and affiliation with the worst God, Shard. The very God who began the wars.

For years and years, Valryn traveled, unable to stay anywhere for long. But as it turned out to be, as hundreds and hundreds of years passed, people would forget old sins. Any mark on his head was left in the dust and what was remembered was a traveler dressed in black.

--

Extra; Becoming Shards apprentice gave him the chance to control his magic and draconic powers. He no longer had to fear his powers getting out of control.

But every good had its bad sides. The crystal that was lodged into his chest gave him pain and being affiliated with Shard. Once a war between Gods began, Shard as the mastermind, Valryn was plunged as a threat. Being a man who only fought to defend himself or those he loved, the best thing he could do was to be captured... fortunately his freedom came shortly after the war ended, but many people would not believe him to be deserving of freedom.