#and it would make sense that a village like this would exist on the outskirts of the kingdom

[edgycrouton]

what i say: i'm fine what i mean: in the manga, it's said that Kul Elna was a village of normal people but in the anime, they say it was a village of thieves/criminals/people infected by darkness and i know that was 4Kids' way of justifying genocide to an entire generation of kids, but my theory is that they were all skilled architects and stone masons who were responsible for building the tombs and if those tombs were robbed, then the villagers of Kul Elna would get blamed because either you're crap at your job and you make shitty tombs, or you're the one who is robbing them. also, how did that underground altar get there? the entrance is in the middle of the village. there's no way it already existed and there's no way it could've been built without questions. i think that the villagers were commissioned to build the altar under the guise of it being a reward from their king and unknowingly contributed to their own demise.

[pasukiyo]

THE UNDOING OF DARKNESS

anakin skywalker/darth vader x f!reader word count: 6k warnings: darth vader, a depiction of murder, angst, smut, p in x sex (unprotected), inappropriate usage of the force, did i mention angst, anakin is also unburnt for the sake of this fic synopsis: sometimes she believes anakin skywalker still exists. darth vader will say that he is no more but she does not truly believe he is gone. after all, anakin once told her that even in death, he would claw his way out of the very earth to find her.

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 Every breath feels like the rarest air in Fortress Vader. Not only is it stuffy, and the simplest of movements makes you break out into a sweat, but it has always felt more like a prison than a home. She’s tried to think of it as one, as it is the place where she spends most, if not all, of her days. It is hard, however, when all she can see is gray, orange, and red for as far as the eye can see. It is hard when she knows there is always the possibility that he is there, watching, scrutinizing, waiting. 

 He, the man she once held in such high regard, the man she never thought she would have, the man that always seemed so impossible and out of reach, the man she never thought would have given her a chance. Maybe he wouldn’t have, she thinks when she has nothing to do but sit by the sliver in the wall of the throne room that serves as a window, looking out into the fiery oceans of Mustafar, if he hadn't changed. 

 She knew the man who he once was. She knew the man before the days of apparatus, before the days of the Empire, before the days of darkness. She thinks she must be the only one left who knew Lord Vader as well as she. Yes, she knew the man Lord Vader had been, before the days of dictatorship, before the fear of existing, because existing, in these days, was fear in itself. 

 She thinks she must be one of the only ones left who knew of Anakin Skywalker. Sometimes, when she sees Lord Vader in the way she and only she sees him, she thinks she can see Anakin again, slipping through the cracks. Sometimes, she believes Anakin must still be here, somewhere, if even a fragment of him. Sometimes she will look into his eyes— the fiery pools they were now— and swear she will see a glimmer, a mirage of that cerulean ocean she once knew, slipping through the cracks of his inferno. 

 If Anakin Skywalker did still exist, however, Lord Vader made sure he never came to be. If Anakin Skywalker still existed, then he was simply locked away deep inside the cage that had been built around the new Lord Vader’s heart. She isn’t sure if it is possible to break through the iron bars— and frankly, she’s become too frightened to even want to continue trying. She feels guilty, like she has some sense of responsibility, of duty to the lost Anakin Skywalker, as she is the only one that Lord Vader allows so close, the only one who may see him in a state as vulnerable as he will allow her to see him. 

 She wonders sometimes if Anakin Skywalker cries out for her, much like the way she did when she was taken, plucked like a rose from her village in the outskirts of Galidraan. When she closes her eyes, she can still remember that day, the harsh cold on her skin, the painful inferno inside her chest, the binds used to restrain her hands behind her back. 

 “No!” She can still feel her scream ripping from her throat, the acidic, rumbling feeling in her chest as she watches the red plasmic blade of the dark figure slice clean through her uncle’s neck, and can still see the shape of his head tumble into the white snow through her watery vision. Although she knows she is merely looking into the past, the pain feels too real, like she is reliving her worst day again. 

 She lunges forward, like she intends to avenge her uncle, a foolish spur of the moment instinct, as she is bound by the wrists and with a blaster to the back of her head. The stormtrooper behind her knocks the butt of his blaster into the back of her skull and her head rings while her cheek finds the snow. She hears her cousins and her people cry behind her and when she pries a single eyelid open, she can make out their trembling silhouettes, on their knees, shoulder to shoulder, a wall of stormtroopers behind them. 

 The ringing begins to dull and she hears footsteps somewhere behind her. She cannot bring herself to move, as she is stunned with the realization that today would be their final day. All these people she’s grown up with, her family she swore she would protect— they would meet their ends today. She would never see her off-planet friends again— she would never see Anakin Skywalker again. That promise he made her that he would see her again feels empty now. She almost wonders if she was a fool to put so much faith in him and his Jedi friends to begin with, if she was a fool to think he’d want her, someone as simple and as plain as her. 

 But all the same, he said they would come should trouble find her beloved planet— so where was he now? She believes he cannot be dead, purged along with many of the other of his kind. She knows he is out there, somewhere. Everyday, she thinks he will come poking his head out from the snowy horizon. Everyday, she waits for that moment to come. She feels the bitter cold seeping into her bones now and thinks how foolish she’s been for believing in such a thing. 

 “The prisoner dares the thought of standing against me,” she hears a voice, deep and undoubtedly male behind her and feels a quivering somewhere inside her chest. The bile that’s been resting at the base of her throat threatens to rise when two stormtroopers step forward, likely from this dark figure’s command, and wraps their hands under her armpits, hoisting her from the ground. She presses her lips together to quell her sick as the world spins and all she can see is black and white. 

 The figure is tall and broad, much more so now that she was so close to him. She has to look up at him and she tries to blink away the blurriness from her vision, and when it does, she can make out the face of his mask. She glowers into the two black circles of his eyes, trying to keep her gaze locked on him rather than on the limp body of her uncle. 

 “You cannot do this,” she says, her voice shaky with uncertainty but feigning determination all the same. “You cannot take us. You cannot kill us. Ana…” she pauses and somewhere in her delirious mind she thinks perhaps she shouldn’t say his name, shouldn’t put yet another target on his back. But her brain tells her these will be her final moments and all she can really think of now is Anakin and of his promise she still tried to cling onto, even now when it was quite literally impossible for it to be fulfilled now. “Anakin will come for us. You cannot kill us.”

 A silence ensues and the masked man’s shoulders rise and she thinks she must have caught him by surprise. Perhaps he already knows of Anakin Skywalker, perhaps he merely wonders why a girl as plain and unimportant as she knows of a Jedi Knight when they’ve all been purged, seemingly from his hand, or at least, his command. 

 His black capes flows in the snowy wind and she trembles, more from knowing his stare behind that mask is devouring her rather than the cold. 

 “You speak in tongues,” he says at last, stepping forward, closer until all she sees is black, an endless void with two circles and a triangle for a face. “I can and I will take whatever I want, foolish girl. I will do what I please.”

 He straightens and with a black, gloved hand, points towards her people, her family. “Kill them,” he says simply and panic blinds her, taking control of her limbs. 

 “No. No!” She screeches into the howling wind, thrashing against the hold of the two stormtroopers behind her as she hears blaster shot after blaster shot and the sound of bodies falling into the snow. “Anakin! Anakin, please! Help me! Help us!” She screams again, sounding more like a fool than she ever has but she’s desperate as she tries to lift herself from the ground, kicking out towards the dark, wicked man before her. 

 All five fingers of the same hand the man used to damn her family to their deaths outstretches and it is like her body, her limbs are no longer her own. They freeze in place and no matter how hard she tries to will them to move, to will her arms to thrash about against their restraints and her legs to kick, they will not. Her heart pounds against her chest and it rises and falls with her shaky breaths as she is forced to stare at the man who has taken her entire world away in a matter of seconds. He steps forward again, looms like a dark cloud with the promise of downpour over her and she has no choice but to stare back, her brows knit together, the promise of tears stinging her eyes. 

 “The man you speak of ceased to exist long ago,” he speaks and she doesn’t quite want to believe him. Although, for a reason she cannot quite define now, she thinks he must be telling the truth, or at least, some version of the truth. “It’d do you well to rid your mind of these foolish beliefs. You shall not be saved. Your life rests in the palms of my hands, and I will do with it what I please.”

 Still, she cannot move, all she can do is silently cry, waiting for this man, this awful, wicked, yet somewhat familiar man to damn her to whatever fate he had in store for her. 

 “You will come with me. You will live in my fortress. You will be what I want you to be. This is a mercy, but do not consider yourself saved. Your life will still be mine to own, and it will be mine to end, should I desire it.”

 She opens her eyes and finds herself back in Mustafar again, staring out at the same fiery ocean she sees every other day. The pain and the memory of that day is still fresh, but she still cannot shake what she feels of Anakin— or rather, Lord Vader— even knowing what he is, what he is capable of. She hates herself for being so easy, for still wanting to believe that her Anakin is still there and that what she has with the new Lord Vader is love, a twisted, altered version of what her life might have been like with Anakin, should circumstances be different. 

 There are footsteps thrumming through the hall beyond the door of the throne room and time seems to still, her heart thudding against her chest as she waits for the door to slide open. When it does, he walks in, rolling like a dark fog into the room and despite the intense heat of Mustafar, she shivers, an icy chill seeping into the marrow of her bones. 

 She simply sits and stares as he stops in the middle of the throne room, her fingers wrapped around the fabric of her gown, chest heaving up and down, waiting for him to address her. She hates this— living in constant fear whilst simultaneously wanting him, wanting the man he used to be, Anakin, back. 

 Another few seconds of silence. 

 And then. 

 “Come here,” he finally speaks and his voice sounds not his own, a different man entirely. She blinks, swinging her legs over the ledge of her seat at the window, complying without a question. Sometimes she hated how easy she gave in to him, but even if she didn’t act of her own free will, she knew she wouldn’t have much of a choice anyways. Still, she hates how quickly she draws nearer, only stopping when she stands before him, looking up into his mask. 

 She purses her lips. She hates this mask. It reminds her of that day. It is the mask of a killer, rather than the face of a man. 

 She inhales, feeling air draw into her chest. Then, “will you let me see you?”

 Another moment of silence, save, of course, for the sound of his breathing through the apparatus. His shoulders rise and fall with his breath and she thinks it must have been a bad day. She internally shudders— tonight could go only one of two ways. 

 She feels a sense of relief, however, when his hands rise to the sides of his helmet, air hissing when he presses his fingers down on either side of the durasteel. Time stops altogether when he inches the helmet away from his head. Full, pink lips unveil behind the mask, a few ridged, faintly red scars like the jagged edges of broken earth spread across his cheeks, up to his strong nose and sharp, red eyes. Dark blonde curls spill over his face and her breath hitches because this is Anakin, but also not and she hates that she still feels something when she sees him, still wants him, and although it pains her to admit it— she still loves him. 

 She blinks up at him, unable to look away and he stares back, lips pressed together, fiery gaze devouring. Yes, it must have been a bad day, because although his gaze is usually unyielding, it is more intense than usual today. It pierces through her, as if he is sifting through her mind, and knowing what he is capable of, he may very well be. 

 It’s reminiscent of the way he used to look at her, back when he was still Anakin. Her Anakin. Her blue-eyed, kind, resilient Anakin. 

 He looked different then, no scars, save for the one on his eye, on his face. His eyes didn’t feel like drowning in a sea of flames, rather, they were oceans of warm cerulean, drawing her in with their kind gaze. She can still feel the rush of secret rendezvous in dark corners of rooms, where no one was watching, away from prying eyes and hushed whispers. 

 She can feel his hands— one warm, one deliciously cool to the touch— resting on either of her cheeks, her own hands wrapped around his elbows. She can still feel his lips against hers then, warm and slow but firm, dominant but soft, gentle. Anakin kissed her like she was a remedy, delicate and precious. Sometimes he still kissed her like this— warm, slow, firm, dominant, gentle. Sometimes it was almost enough to make her feel how she did then— delicate, precious, a remedy. 

 But nothing could amount to the way Anakin looked at her then, with vast blue eyes so inviting, so kind, and so him that she thought she would die if he ceased to look at her like that. This, of course, was not true. Yet, everyday she spent looking into the fiery depths that replaced his warm ocean, she thinks she feels pieces of herself, her old self, rotting. 

 Anakin pulled away from her lips and even though it was all those days ago, she still remembered how tenderly he brushed her hair away from her face, tucking it back behind her ear. She still remembers the pad of his thumb, the one with flesh instead of metal, smoothing circles into her cheekbones. She watches as his lips move to form words and she is simply mesmerized, so enraptured by this man she can hardly breathe. 

 “I will be going away soon,” he told her then, his breath like the warmth of a fire against her face. Her eyelashes flutter as she looks from his lips back to his eyes, wading further into his ocean, as if she could convince him with a stare to stay, to anchor himself here, to her. 

 “But…” she shakes her head, tongue swiping between her lips and her hands slide from his elbows to his wrists. “…but you cannot…” she sighs frustratingly, unable to find her words. “…it is not safe for us. You cannot leave…”

 “Hey,” he whispers in only the way he can, in that way that has her resolve slipping, her knees trembling, her heart stuttering. The wind whips at their hair and their clothes and snow falls behind him but he is so warm, a warm glow in the midst of the storm. She grows warm, warmer in his hands and Anakin’s gaze drops to her quivering lips, the skin of his thumb soothing over her lower one. “You are fully capable of surviving without me,” he assures in a murmur that rolls like thunder in her chest. 

 She shakes her head. “But we are weak!” she protests. “We are not strong enough to handle this on our own. My uncle he…” she closes her eyes, sucks in a breath, tries to ease the unsteady beating of her heart. “…he is only getting older. He isn’t well. The storm is only getting stronger, and if they come… we—“

 “No,” Anakin shakes his head, steps closer, cradles either of her cheeks in the palms of his hands. “Don’t say you can’t.”

 She tilts her head in his palms, unsure of his meaning. “But Anakin, if they—“

 “They will not touch you,” he says and he speaks with a sense of finality, and she knows there would be no question, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. She knows that what he says is true. His hands tighten around her face and his gaze is strong, unyielding, piercing where it meets hers. He almost doesn’t seem himself, like there is some other version of him present. She isn’t sure what to think of it, but what she knows for sure is that she knows she must be safe, because Anakin says it is true. “I will not let anyone hurt you, do you understand?”

 He searches her gaze, awaiting her answer. She stares back, wondering how someone like him could be speaking to her like this, touching her like this, caring for her like this. To be loved by Anakin Skywalker was like being a snowflake, falling from the heavens, making its descent to the ground— every one was unique, but its uniqueness may only be discovered by those who look close enough. Not many cared to take the time out of their day to see her, but Anakin did. Anakin saw her and held her in a way he and only he could. To be loved by Anakin Skywalker was to be seen like nobody else had seen her. To be loved by Anakin Skywalker was a rarity of its own. 

 She nods against his palms, her lashes fluttering as her gaze drops to his chin, to his lips. 

 “What is it?” He asks, lowering his head, catching her gaze in his again. She sniffs, wringing a hand around his wrist. 

 “What if I do not see you again?” She asks. “How long will I have to wait to have you like this again?”

 It is a selfish thought, she thinks. They are in the middle of a war for Maker’s sake, and Anakin is one of the most important assets of it. It is selfish of her to want to keep him all to herself, to want to stay hidden in a permanent rendezvous, away from eyes, away from pain, away from war. The galaxy needed him, that, she knew. But she needed him too. She doesn’t know what she will do with herself, biding the time until she sees him again. 

 “But you will see me again,” he assures in a quiet murmur, his hands dropping from her cheeks to cup either of her hands between his. He presses his lips to one of her knuckles, then to another, and then another until they’ve all been graced by his kiss. Her knees feel like jelly and she is glad he is there to support her, because she feels like she can melt into a gooey puddle of magma at their feet despite the snow. “No matter how far, no matter the time, I will always find you. There is no place in the entire galaxy where you can be where I will not find you. We are bound to one another, you and I are. Even in death, I would claw myself out of the very earth to find you.”

 She feels the bitter sting of tears pooling in her eyes, because she knows they are running out of time, and soon, he would have to take leave. She will only have these words and the memory of his touch to satiate her, until of course he keeps his word and finds her once again. 

 Anakin’s eyes fall back down to her lips before he collects them with his in a searing kiss, the kindling of a promise left in his mouth’s wake when he pulls away. 

 “We will see one another again,” he murmurs and she believes him. She knows he will keep his word. “And perhaps, we will meet even sooner than you think.”

 Blue swarms and begins to morph into an angry, fiery red and she is once again back in Mustafar, staring at Anakin but not Anakin again. Sometimes when she thinks her Anakin Skywalker is truly lost, she need only remember those tender words he had said to her, the last time she saw him as he once was. She will then look at Darth Vader and tell herself that all hope is not lost. Darth Vader will say that Anakin Skywalker is dead, but she knows it is not true. 

 Because Anakin Skywalker once told her that even in death, he would claw his way out of the very earth to find her. 

 “Something troubles you,” she whispers and Darth Vader does not move but his eyes do. His blazing gaze falls to her lips, down her arms, all the way to her hands. She follows their trail and knows what it is he must crave. Sometimes when she thinks she must be afraid of him, she reminds herself that this is only a boy who is lost, misguided. She wonders, she hopes, if in time, he can be guided back onto the right path again. 

 Her hands move to find one of his, his left, where she knows she will still find flesh underneath. She glances back up at him to find he is staring at their connected hands, lips pursed, waiting for her to continue. She sucks in a breath and pinches the tip of his glove at the middle finger, slowly, cautiously pulling it away from his hand. Her palm circles to cradle the back of his hand and while he does not shiver, the locking of his jaw does not go unnoticed. 

 Even after all this time, he still craves for touch, her touch, and her skin on his. It makes her wonder if he still thinks about it too, all their secret rendezvous, their nights of passion, bodies tangled together with only the moons as their witness. She wonders if he still remembers the words he used to always say to her, the tender, sweet little nothings he’d whisper in her ear, the promises for a better future he made woven in the tendrils of her hair. If he still thinks back to that day she last saw him as Anakin Skywalker, if he still remembers the words he told her. 

 She thinks he must, because he still fulfilled his promise: he came back, no matter what. Only not the same, but perhaps more of the same than she initially thought. She sees the locking of his jaw, his craving for her touch he dare not speak aloud and thinks maybe it could be true. 

 “Let me help you,” she says, because she knows he has no desire to speak. Darth Vader lifts his gaze to find she is already staring back as she brings his hand up to her face, cupping her cheek. The pad of his thumb subconsciously soothes over her bottom lip and she shivers, the tenderness of his touch a stark contrast to his demeanor. She knows what she is offering is only a temporary fix, but it is a start, and it is an understanding she didn’t quite have before. 

 He still craves for her, he still wants her. She doesn’t know if she can call what they have love, not anymore, but there is still a want. She thinks that maybe this is her Anakin slipping through the cracks. She decides to hold onto this sliver all that she can. 

 She presses her lips gently against his thumb, maintaining eye contact all the while, unwilling to break it. The blazing amber in his eyes intensifies and in an instant, his lips are on hers, replacing his thumb. She releases a mixture of a yelp and a moan into his mouth, letting his tongue scour her, devouring her. He seeks to conquer her but he still kisses her with desperation, almost insecurely, but not like he’s unsure. It’s more like he’s waiting for her to push him away, to curse and spit at him like he believes (and perhaps, does) deserve. 

 But she doesn’t. How could she? It’s hard to differentiate Darth Vader from Anakin Skywalker when they are one in the same, even while being entirely different. He still feels like her Anakin, he still shares the same shell as her Anakin. He kisses her with a mixture of Darth Vader and just the tiniest fraction of Anakin Skywalker but he is there, he is still there. 

 So she presses herself further into him. His right hand finds the small of her back and presses her further into him, his kiss more determined, his touch more certain. She pants against his mouth as he uses his left hand to unclip his cape, the heavy material falling in a heap on the floor behind him. She feels the shoulders of her dress slipping down her arms but does not feel his hands there and knows he is using the Force on her. It alights a new sort of blaze she’s never felt before between her legs and as his left hand grips her chin and his kisses trail down to her jaw, she burns brighter than ever before. 

 Her eyes are screwed shut as he sucks angry marks to the line of her jaw, her fingers holding on tightly to his sleeves. She thinks she hears the door slide open behind them but the invisible hand working at her clothes unties the knot at the small of her back and Darth’s teeth sink into her collarbone so she does not care. Her head tilts back and she hears the faint sound of footsteps retreating, the door sliding back closed, once again leaving them alone. 

 “An… Ana…” she hears herself begin to pant but knows it is a mistake as soon as he pulls away from her altogether, her body, now nude, feeling cold with the lack of his against it. She peels open her lids and shudders where she stands as his gaze pierces through her as if it intended to melt her to the very ground she stood on. She thinks she very well can but she knows there is no use of running so she stays, awaiting her fate. 

 “The name you call is not mine,” Darth speaks and he reaches out with a hand, his left, and her body is not her own anymore and her mind flashes back to the day where he found her, when he used this very power on her to strip her of her own will. She presses her lips together as the Force brings her down to her knees, the ground biting into her bare skin. She does not cry, does not even struggle. She simply waits— she’s already offered herself to him and she knows that he will not hurt her. He cannot afford to. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself without her. Because Anakin is still there. There is still someone inside of him that loves her. “It’d serve you well to forget that man, because he is gone. Dead. I want to hear you say my name. I want to hear you scream it until hell fears me.”

 She hates the effect he has on her. She can feel herself pulse between her legs and she inhales, fluttering her eyes closed at how pathetic she must seem. Still wanting this dangerous, nefarious man. The man who murdered her uncle. The man who murdered her entire family. But yet, still the man who said he would cheat death to keep her safe. 

 Darth’s gaze intensifies and she feels a prodding in her mind, encouraging her, no, commanding her to comply. She gulps, and then, “Darth.”

 The invisible finger toying with the outside of her mind crawls away and her body once again feels like it is her own but still, she stays in her place on her knees on the floor. Darth Vader’s footsteps echo the room as he steps forward until he towers above her. She peers up at him through her lashes, watches as he crouches, pinching her chin between the thumb and forefinger of his gloved hand. 

 “Obedient girl,” he remarks, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip. “You will not defy me, lest you wish for it to be the last thing you do.”

 Her head nods before can even begin to think. She knows she would’ve complied regardless. The ache between her legs wouldn’t allow her to act otherwise. It was disgusting, lusting after this man who swears he will be her demise. But he has a way of making her insatiable, unlike herself.

 “Good,” he says before he pulls away and she watches as he circles the center of the room, setting himself down into the throne in the middle, legs spread, waiting. “Undress me.”

 She gulps down another moan, the words alone making her stomach somersault. She wastes no time to pick herself off of the floor, painfully aware of how naked she is as she makes her way over to where he sits. Even sitting on his throne, he is still bigger, still stronger than her. She feels meek, small against him as she begins with the shoulders of his armor, finding his eyes as she removes it, piece by piece. He taps his fingers against the arms of his seat as she unbuttons his tunic and before she can move to slide it down his arms, he waves a finger and her hands find his belt without their own accord. 

 She doesn’t move for a movement, only stares at him as he gazes back. He cocks an eyebrow, the one pierced with a scar, expectantly and she inhales sharply, her gaze sliding from his face down to his exposed, toned chest as she begins working at his belt. She tosses it away along with the heap of clothes on the floor and unbuttons his trousers, feeling her center throb at just how close she is to seeing what it desires. Her tongue swipes between her lips as she frees his cock from his pants, her breath hitching as she blinks at the angry pink tip peeking from his waistband. 

 “You test the limits of my patience,” Darth Vader says in an annoyed, clipped tone. “My cock will be your throne, but only if you make haste.”

 She blinks again and she feels a ball of acid at the base of her throat as she tugs his pants all the way down to his knees, finally allowing his cock to spring free. She can’t help but gawk, even if she’s already seen it more times than she can count. It’s large to say the very least and it is hard, ready, eager for her. She recalls just how large it is whenever she’s had it in her mouth, how each and every vein of it feels when it is buried so deeply inside of her. Sometimes, she can’t believe that it is all hers to have. Sometimes, she doesn’t feel worthy of it. 

 She realizes she is testing his patience again, only when she feels that invisible hand wrap around her throat, her own subconsciously reaching for them, although they are not there. Breath is stolen from her and she knits her brows together, mumbling a tight apology. 

 “You are merely fortunate that I am not in the mood for games today,” he says and the Force brings her forwards, her knees hitting his. He leans towards her until their faces are mere inches away, his breath rolling like smoke over her cheeks. “So do not push my mercy any further. Sit on my cock.”

 She feels every syllable of his last sentence in her core and the invisible hand remains on her throat as she manages to bring herself closer, her knees on either side of his thighs. He does not touch her, merely watches as she struggles to align his head with her center. When she finally does, he uses this invisible grip on her throat to push her down before releasing her altogether and she gasps for breath, eyes rolling back into her head, her head tipping towards the ceiling as a moan rips from her throat. 

 She can feel every pulsing vein of his cock against her walls, can feel her delicate cervix being bullied by his angry tip. Her hands search for his shoulders and when they do, her nails dig into the sleeves of his tunic, the bitter sting of tears escaping the edges of her eyes. 

 Darth hisses through his teeth and his left hand finds her hip, his skin warm against hers where it kneads. A curse tumbles past his lips and his other hand, still gloved, weaves through her hair, forces her forehead down onto his. She opens her eyes and sees his glaring gaze piercing through to her own. 

 “I don’t know how you do this to me,” he snarls. “I don’t know how only you have this effect on me. Only you can make me feel like this. Only you can make me…” Darth is unable to control himself so he snaps his hips up into her and she cries, more tears streaming down her cheeks. “…fuck!” He howls, tossing his head back against his throne. “You are destroying me. It’s not fair. How are you doing this to me?”

 He says this last thing with a hint of a vulnerability she’s never heard from him before. It’s almost desperate, like she really, truly is destroying him, paining him. It’s hard for her to try and understand what this means when he is fucking her into a state of mind-numbingness, but there is only one thing, one word, one name that she can even think of. 

 “Darth!” She screeches but it is not the name she thinks of. She thinks of Anakin, how perhaps this, she is the key to freeing Anakin Skywalker from the mask of Darth Vader. Because this, this Darth Vader is but a mere facade— they both know it to be true. It is not who he truly is. He can try and deny it all he wants. But there is nowhere in the entire galaxy where he can hide that she won’t find him. Because he is and will always be Anakin Skywalker. 

 She knows that Darth Vader will try and fight it. He will tear down the entire galaxy before he admits it. He will destroy planets and will bring down entire monarchies before he admits it. He will kill and he will burn and he will destroy before he admits it. But not even that will be enough to hide from it, to run from it. Because she is Darth Vader’s destiny. She is Anakin Skywalker’s destiny. She will be Darth Vader’s destruction. And she will be Anakin Skywalker’s redemption. 

 She is the key to bringing Anakin Skywalker home. 

a/n: another long one for anakin 🤭 i absolutely love writing for him, he's so complex and so fun to explore and create headcanons of my own for. i hope i was able to do him at least a little bit of justice here. sorry if this seemed a little too slow burn and if there wasn't enough smut to suffice 😭 i went in like "oh yeah this is gonna be absolutely filthy" but oh well! i find i write a little easier when i go in without much of a plan lol since i get carried away easily and usually just let my thumbs do whatever the hell they want anyways 😭 anywho! thank you so much for reading! it always warms my heart to know my writing is being seen by others! 🥹🫶

psst, i also want to thank each and every single one of you who read a place in the sea of stars. i was not expecting the feedback that fic received and i am still so overwhelmed by all the love all this time later. thank you thank you thank you a million times over from the bottom of my heart. 🥹🫶

💫 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

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@sunnytotheend

[mister-tom-a-dildo-lover]

Tomarry set in a Soul Eater au like you mentioned before and with Tom saying to Harry "You are my Meister and mine alone!" Congrats on 4000 followers!

Oof!

Fandom: HP Ship: Tomarry AU: Soul Eater AU TAGS: Meisters, Soul Resonance, Drama, Angst, Dark Humor, Violence, Exposure Therapy?.

~.O.~

It was said that Tom Riddle Jr.'s mother was a witch. That was why he was such an unruly and unpleasant demon weapon that no one could get along with.

After all, why else would his powers allow him to control other people like they were puppets? Who else but a witch would have such a twisted ability?

He insisted she was a regular mortal. That she died giving birth to him on the doorstep of an orphanage in London, England. That the matron had said the only name she'd given was his, and she asked that he be called Tom Riddle, for his father.

When he'd been granted a position at Death Weapon Meister Academy back when he was twelve, he'd been decently well-liked... until he wasn't. No one had done anything malicious as far as they were aware, but he got angry one day and used his powers on the students in his class.

They weren't allowed to talk about what happened, but none of those students could ever see him without panicking afterward.

Eventually, some of the older students who weren't scared of his frigid demeanor and nasty words decided they were going to look into him to get him expelled if it was the last thing they did. Based on the bare information on his school records, they found his father and his father's family. And by extension, found his mother's family as they all lived near the same village.

There was no actual proof that Merope Gaunt of the impoverished Gaunt family was a witch, this was true, but Merope was not a common name. And it was an alternate name, used by one of the most popular witches in history. Periboea Gorgon. Or, better known as twin sister to Medusa Gorgon, younger sister of Arachne Gorgon, and older sister to Shaula Gorgon. Often mistakenly called Medusa because of their similar looks(sans the different hair colors, of course) and interests, even down to the myriads of snakes they kept company with.

Why else would a mortal woman living in a snake-infested thicket on the outskirts of a quaint English village, share a name with one of the most twisted witches in history?

Why else would Tom Riddle's father leave the woman he married, claiming he was 'bewitched' and forced to move away from home and unwillingly sire a child with her?

Why else would Tom Riddle turn into an urumi, which bore a pretty standard handle and hilt but stretched into seven incredibly long and sharp metal ropes that were barbed and bore fanged serpent-heads at the tips? If they managed to touch his victim, he could enforce his control over them and make them do whatever he wanted. The blades were black and pitch and glowed an ominous red when in use.

And the worst part about it, was that Lord Death wasn't even overly concerned!

Sure, he was the Great Old One and was probably the most powerful being in existence... but surely, he could understand why people could not stand Riddle?!

Honestly, the actual worst part of all of it was the fact that whether any of them liked it or not, each person would have to be teamed up with Tom Riddle at least once in class, just to see if there was any kind of a compatible soul wavelength between them. Now, common sense would dictate that so many people being absolutely terrified of him would make it completely impossible for anyone to match wavelengths with him, let alone hope for a Soul Resonance, but Lord Death kept insisting.

Every single meister who attempted to match wavelengths with Riddle ended up harmed.

There was absolutely no proof that he had done anything deliberately, but that did not mean that anyone trusted him.

Perhaps, he was destined to forever be a student who never left the building, never went on missions, and would never become a Death Scythe. And perhaps that was for the best.

~.O.~

Tom Riddle glared at the newest meister Death had decided to foist onto him, annoyed that he had to be pulled from class for this sham.

Another failure waiting to happen. Four years of this and one would think Death would just accept that Tom couldn't match wavelengths with others.

The other teen didn't look particularly worth much. Nothing about his appearance inspired any kind of hope for skills he might possess.

Thick black hair that twisted and turned in every direction. Thick wired frames that enlarged his bright green eyes significantly. Baggy clothing that looked to be several sizes too large almost drowned out by a black robe that was left open. An inflamed, red scar that stretched across the gaunt skin of his brow, reminiscent of lightning. It was deeply set into the flesh though, so it didn't appear to be newly acquired.

"This is Harry Potter. He recently... had an accident with his human relatives. He's just learning that his parents were a weapon and meister duo who left him with his mother's older sister before going on a dangerous mission they were unfortunately unable to return from. I believe you'd be the perfect weapon partner for him," Death said, bereft of his usual silliness, thank goodness.

Tom had no patience for the little act Death liked using. He didn't care about how it was to make the children less afraid; it was ridiculous. It was bad enough that Death himself chose to alter his own appearance to put humans at ease, but then to act like a fool on top of it all... Hell no.

Harry Potter gave a short wave before offering his hand... To check if their soul wavelengths were compatible...

Never should anyone assume that Tom Riddle liked to touch other people.

With great regret, and the anticipation of Harry Potter coming to harm in some way, Tom Riddle took his smaller, clammy hand, and proceeded to feel...

Their wavelengths were greatly different, with Tom's full of sharp edges, rushing up and down jaggedly, refusing to keep a steady pace or rhythm. Potter's though... was like a placid pool. It didn't even mentally manifest in the typical wavelength feeling. Even the most relaxed people would still experience regular shifts in their wavelengths, but Potter's was a flatline of nothing.

If he wasn't able to feel his heartbeat and see his chest move, Tom might have thought he'd joined hands with a corpse.

"Harry, no masking," Lord Death softly ordered.

All at once, that flat line spiked to peaks even Tom's reach couldn't fathom, before instantly compressing in on itself and molding right to every single edge of Tom's wavelength. With ease, Harry Potter had changed his own wavelength to match Tom's exactly, almost cloaking it in a sense. Replicating it perhaps. Their wavelengths were now so tightly pressed together that it was impossible to tell where Tom's began and Harry's ended.

If there was a graph to show Harry and Tom's soul wavelengths, Harry's green would be superimposed over Tom's red in a perfect blend.

To be able to just change his own wavelength so easily... "Why did you bring him to me if he can match anyone?" Tom demanded, still not letting go and refusing to let his eyes leave those bright green, yet somehow dull ones. "I doubt he'll want for a weapon partner."

Death sighed. "Harry's relatives and neighbors were very much like Mrs. Cole and the other orphans were for you... He has similar issues that no one else in the school could hope to understand, and it wouldn't be healthy for him to partner with someone not emotionally compatible. Just because he could match anyone's wavelength doesn't mean he should."

Put the traumatized kids together, huh?

Hope they heal each other or some nonsense?

Curious, Tom allowed himself to change shape into his weapon form. He could feel Potter's firm grasp around the handle of his standard weapon shape, and wondered if he even knew what Tom was supposed to be.

One thing about Tom that really scared people... was his ability to control the minds of others. When used against others, he could control them, but when being used by others, he could also control them. A meister's mind was not safe from him be they 'friend' or 'foe'. He could easily exert influence over pretty much anyone but Death himself.

And yet... Harry's mind had no response to his prodding. His skills, which had thus far earned him people's fear and avoidance, did nothing. As if Harry's mind simply wasn't there at all.

"Harry, you're masking again," Death told him again.

Instantly, the empty darkness was filled with vibrant sensations from all angles, and Tom was allowed to drown in it for only a second, before Harry's entire being seemingly wrapped around him, and his soul wavelength merged with Tom's. The feeling of the beginning stages of Soul Resonance, hit him hard because it was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

Hot and cold and vibrating at a frequency he was beginning to hear.

Tom latched on and used his own wavelength to add to what Hary produced, then sent it back along their tenuous connection.

They passed the energy back and forth, amplifying it with each loop, until Tom's entire form began to glow, and the seven metal whips of his usual form, straightened into a single, bone white shaft of what appeared to be... a scythe. A scythe made of sharpened bones and an abnormally long, human vertebrae serving as the snath.

During his first ever Soul Resonance, Tom Riddle had discovered that he was one of the demon weapons capable of changing between forms. A skill only possible in those who had ancestry connected to a witch's influence.

He had seven blades, each growing longer and shaper the higher they got, until the one at the very top curled upward ominously.

Despite being in weapon form, Tom could still perceive the world around him. Everything was in crystal clear focus, and even Potter's clammy hands couldn't ruin the experience. Not with that insane power linking them together and making him lightheaded and needy.

Their soul wavelengths peaked together, and Potter swung Tom in a complex pattern, sending bright green and red bolts of energy, arcing through the air of Death's office, piercing a hole through the ceiling in the far distance. Of all the shapes Tom would expect an attack from a magical scythe to take... lightning bolts weren't among them.

But perhaps it made sense in a way. Neither of them could be considered conventional, not with recent revelations being taken into account. Harry Potter being able to just instantly get on Tom's level wasn't even the most shocking thing.

He felt giddy in a way he hadn't since the time he'd transformed for the first time. This was his meister. Death had brought them together willingly, and now Tom would never let him go.

"You are my meister and mine alone," he told the other teen. "We're going to be partners for a very long time."

And Harry Potter simply shrugged and nodded. That was okay. Tom certainly had the time to win him over now that they'd be partnered up and moved into the same flat together to better get to know each other.

Everything in Harry Potter's life was about to revolve around Tom Riddle, and he couldn't wait to get started.

~.O.~

A/N: This has a lot of potential.

Reminiscing about Soul Eater makes me want to re-watch the anime.

[lupinmoonlight]

Domestic Bliss

Masterlist AO3

Summary - This is an idea of what domestic life would be with Remus, of how he would be as a partner. Loving, gentle, protective, a bit possessive, and pretty much just perfect. It is after the war. Remus survived, you graduated, and it was not long before you two moved in together to a quaint little cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Remus resumed his teaching position at Hogwarts while you became a potioneer for the nearest apothecary of the village. Remus is absolutely smitten with you and loves the idea of starting a family together (952 words).

Warnings - age gap, fluff, domestic life, mention of past teacher/student relationship, implicit mention of sex, mention of potential pregnancy. Not proof-read. My grammar (english is my second language).

Notes - Sorry if I post this before requests, I just had this idea while working and I wanted to write it quickly! This could probably be a part 2 to Detention?

Remus and you had settled into a rhythm of domesticity in your cozy little cottage. For Remus, every day with you felt like a gift, a chance to cherish and adore the woman he was once forbidden to love. The normalcy of your days felt foreign yet not unwelcome; with Remus preparing for the upcoming term and you foraging for ingredients and restocking your potions store. Your lives had intertwined beautifully. 

Since moving in together, Remus had found a peace he never knew existed. The war had left scars, but here, in the quiet comfort of your cottage, he found healing. He often caught himself simply watching you, a sense of awe never far from his thoughts. Whether you were engrossed in a book or meticulously brewing potions, there was a grace and concentration in your movements that captivated him. He found endless joy in the little things - the way your brow furrowed in concentration or the serene look you wore when lost in thought. 

His affection was evident in every interaction. He couldn't resist stealing kisses at random moments, delighting in the sound of your giggles, a sound that warmed his heart every time. He'd lift you off your feet in a spontaneous embrace, earning a playful scold and a laugh from you. 

"I can't believe how lucky I am," he would often murmur after kissing you, his gentle eyes reflecting the depth of his love. 

In the evenings, he would brush your hair, the strokes gentle and rhythmic. "You have the most beautiful hair," he would say, a contented smile on his face.

He often picked out your outfits, a way for him to make sure you were taken care of. "You need to be warm enough," he'd insist gently, helping you into a sweater. "We can't have you be cold, not on my watch." 

His protective nature became more pronounced when you were out in public. A trip to the village for supplies was enough for him to break his barriers. As you walked through the bustling streets, he kept close to you, his hand often finding yours or resting on your back. When he noticed other men glancing at you, a frown would momentarily mar his features, his hand would tighten around yours, a silent growl of displeasure rumbling within him. He knew it was irrational - you were stunning, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and it was only natural for others to notice - but he couldn't help the flare of possessiveness that surged through him. 

"Remus, you're frowning again," you would tease lightly, noticing his expression.

"I can't help it," he'd respond, a slight edge to his voice. "I don't like them looking at you like that." 

You would smile, a reassuring and affectionate look in your eyes. "I only have eyes for you, you know that, Professor." 

Your nights, once a shy dance of quiet intimacy, began to echo with passion and longing. The concept of starting a family had gradually woven its way into the tapestry of your life together. The thought of you carrying his child stirred a deep, primal emotion in Remus, a mix of awe and an intense, protective love. 

He was always mindful of your comfort and well-being, often finding himself torn between a desire to be gentle and the overwhelming need to fully possess, to fully express the depth of his feelings for you. In those moments, when he let the intensity of his emotions take over, your trust in him was absolute and implicit. You reveled in the way he took you, claimed you, made you his and his alone. Afterwards, he would hold you close, his touches soft and loving, as if to reassure both you and himself of the sanctity of your bond. 

"Are you okay?" he would ask softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You would smile, nodding, "I'm more than okay. I'm with you." 

And then, your conversations would often drift to the future, to dreams of a child you might share. Remus would lay beside you, his hand resting gently on your stomach, a sense of wonder in his voice. "Can you imagine? A little one of ours running around." 

Your response was always a blend of excitement and contemplation. For Remus, these conversations were bittersweet. His own fears and doubts about being a father, given his condition, lingered in the back of his mind. Yet, your presence, your support, and your shared love always managed to quell these fears. 

"Whatever happens," he would promise, holding you close, "we'll face it together. You, me, and...maybe a little one." 

In the morning, he would stand by the window, a steaming cup of tea in his hand, watching the sunrise paint the sky shades of orange and pink. He would turn his gaze towards you, who was still asleep, your hair cascading over the pillow. His heart skipped a beat, remembering how he'd fallen for you when you were still his student. The forbidden nature of his feelings back then had caused him many restless nights. Now, as he watched you sleep, the absence of guilt felt surreal.

He quietly approached the bed, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. You stirred slightly, your lips curving into a soft smile as you sensed his presence. "Morning," you mumbled, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. 

"Morning, love," he replied, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. "I've made some tea." 

The smell of fresh bread and tea would fill the cottage as he prepared breakfast for you, and in these times, it really felt like pure domestic bliss. 

[edgeray]

hii edge! is it possible if i request an arlecchino/reader with beauty & the beast au :0? thank you so much in advance aaaaaa i love your writing so much it always makes my day^^

To Break a Curse

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hi anon! Of course, here's going to be my reminder that if you request from me again as an anon, give yourself a name/emoji :). So I technically have already made a beauty and beast au (here is the link), but I suppose I could just rewrite the concept. The original au did differ a lot from the ‘disney’ version so for this one, so for this one, I will actually try to align this more with the disney version. Slightly dark because I'm not going to have talking kettles and candlesticks in here. Will be assuming gn! reader for this. Also I'm glad that you enjoy my works and bit sorry for the delay ^^ I am so sorry the ending is shitty at the end I am deadass about to fall asleep, I was this close 🤏 to falling asleep. I was typing with my eyes close lol. It's like 3:30AM for me so I'm gonna hit the hay. Maybe I should stop writing these at 12AM lol.  Content warnings / info - mean arle at the start, semi-graphic violence, prolly forgetting something but I'm tired, 2.7k words 

You've heard of the rumored forsaken prince, everyone in your village has. People rarely mention her by name, opting to call the cursed prince ‘the Beast,’ based on her animal-like claws and her temperament–just as vicious as a feral beast. The castle which she alone resides in sits on the outskirts of the forest next to your village. Every villager warns you to never trespass into the Beast's territory, unless you wished to never return. However, you've never believed in the existence of the Beast and her castle--after all, you've gone to the forests numerous times and have never encountered her. Perhaps this was just a way to scare off children from getting lost. 

Today, you learned how wrong you were. Venturing into the forest to forage for your dinner, you had accidentally delved too deep into the forest, now lost. Night approached soon as you searched for an escape or a shelter, but your search was unsuccessful.

Trudging through the forest, you heave for breath, your feet aching from traversing the rough terrain of the forest, not helped by the uncomfortable shoes you chose to wear. You thought that the foraging wouldn't take long but you found a large patch of mushrooms that led you deeper into the forest than you intended. You gaze up at the sky, it being pitch black with only the moonlight and the stars guiding you through. 

The shadows produced by the trees unnerve you, your imagination and paranoia warping them into abstract monsters stalking you. You know that there is nothing in the forest that can hurt you, unless the rare bear, but the knowledge didn't soothe you any more. You feel something hit your forehead–something light and small… and wet. It takes a couple more droplets before you realize it’s now downpouring. You bite your lip out of frustration, wrapping your arms around yourself to store as much body heat to yourself. Your footsteps speed up and you look more frantically, until you see something imposing in the distance. It's hard to make out in the fog, but it seems like the outline of some sort of building. 

You run towards it, only to be faced with a wall. You follow along it until you reach a gate, and behind the gate, you can vaguely make out a structure larger and more obscene than anything you've ever seen before; it looks nothing like the village establishments. If anything, it dwarfs your entire village as a whole, likely massive enough to fit your village inside based on the height alone. At least this would provide you shelter from the rain and cold, is the only consideration you make before pushing open the gates and rushing down the stone path. 

You nearly trip over the stone passage and as you arrive at the entrance, you soon realize it’s a castle. Its uncanny shape now makes some sense, but from then on lack of light through the windows, it seems like no one lives here. You press on, entering the castle. You’re thankful you're no longer being pelted by the rain and then you're immediately struck with awe from the decor and grandiose of the interior. Although the castle is unlit, you're still able to make out some details of the room you enter. Admiring the spiral staircase and the magnificent pillars, a thought strikes you. Why does no one inhabit the castle? 

Abruptly, there is the sound of something shuffling and it makes your marveling halt. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach and fear clenches onto you tightly as the incessant terror of not being as alone as you though plagues you. Spinning around, you search for the origins of the sound only to scare yourself when you accidentally kick against a piece of furniture. You yelp out, before silencing yourself when you cognize it was nothing. 

And then a thud. And another, coming from behind you. Paralysis enraptures your body and before you have the time to breathe, a heavy weight crashes into you, making you tumble into the ground. You let out a scream, turning around to view what just struck you, and two glowing red orbs stare back at you. You gasp wildly, trying to scramble away when your throat is suddenly tightened and you're forced against the ground. It feels like claws are just barely brushing against your neck, threatening to puncture into you if you so much as breathe. A whimper escapes you and a whispered plea escapes you as you lock your eyes on the pair of red. 

“P-please…” 

A deep, resounding voice responds to you, causing shivers down your body. “What are you doing in my home?”

Tears well in your eyes and you try your best to speak as clearly as possible. “I-I'm sorry. I didn't k-know! I'll go, p-please let me go!” You beg, your hands raise to pry off the hand over your throat but a feral growl stops you. 

“Do you know whose home you intruded into?” 

You shake your head. The grip around your neck intensifies for a few moments.

“Speak.”

“N-no…” 

“This is my castle, Prince Arlecchino's. Though, the villagers like to call me something else… what was it, ‘the Beast?’”

You suck in an audible breath as your eyes grow wide. This is the Beast? The Beast is real? Then are the rumors of people disappearing in the castle true as well? What will happen to you? Your mind goes into a frenzy, with all the wonderings of what the Beast would do to you.

“P-please don't kill m-me…”

“Kill you? No,” the Beast answers coldly. The hold on your throat slackens and the Beast’s hand slips away. “I won't kill you. But you've trespassed my home. And for that, you will remain here, for the rest of your life.” 

“W-what? B-but,” you breath is caught when you feel a tug on your arm pulling you up to your feet, the same claws that pressed against your neck digs shallowly into your arm, making you wince. 

“This is your punishment,” the Beast says, its red pupils glaring down at you coldly. You gulp, but accept your fate. The Beast could easily kill you with one swipe of her hand. 

“Follow,” it instructs, and you do, trailing behind the Beast as it navigates the dark surroundings effortlessly, a testament to how long it's been here. You trip over another piece of furniture, making you stumble onto the ground. 

“I'm sorry–” you stammer out an apology immediately.

“Be quiet,” gruffed the Beast. You scramble to get up but feel yourself hoisted up, by the Beast presumably. You yelp from the sudden position, now carried in a bridal style–its hold is surprisingly gentle and its claws don't prick you.

“Where are you taking me?” You inquire, clutching onto the Beast’s shoulder–which for some reason shocks you that it’s firm just like any other human, although you know that the Beast is a human–when it goes up the staircase. 

“A guest chamber.”

“A guest chamber?” 

“Would you prefer the dungeon?”

“No… thank you… Prince Arlecchino.”

The Beast pauses its movements, halting in place. 

Your thoughts flood with anxiety, wondering if this would trigger a violent reaction from the Beast. “Did I offend you? I’m sorry, I really am.” 

“No. It's just been a long while since someone referred to me from my title.” The Beast continues walking, unaware of how its–her–words shattered your mindset. 

That's right, how could you forget? ‘The Beast’ is still a human, cursed or not. Perhaps Prince Arlecchino deserved being inflicted by a curse, but you could not imagine yourself with the fate instilled on the forsaken prince, nor being singularly called ‘the Beast’ by every waking person. It's dehumanizing and awfully isolating, and it makes you question how long it has been since she's been called that, how long it has been since she has been seen as a human. 

It makes your heart ache. 

You count the flight of stairs that she goes up, and then for the first time, you see orange light coming from one of the rooms at the end of a corridor–an open fire likely. As the Prince walks closer to the room, you're able to make out more details; it's a bedroom, but more apparently, you can finally see her. You tilt your head up, and you expectedly, yet unexpectedly at once, you view a very princely face: pale, flawless skin framed by snow white hair and ebony strands, and sharp jaw. Prince Arlecchino glances down at you, sharp cross-shaped pupils burrowing into you. Her expression seems curious of yours. 

“You do look like a prince…” you think out loud absentmindedly, your face flushing as you realize your verbalization. 

The Prince says nothing, thankfully, and doesn't note your fluster. You look away from her face and glance at her hands. Like you've heard from the villagers, they are black, as if dipped in ink and her nails are red claws. Though what the villagers have yet to mention was the markings on her forearm, which are, admittedly, entrancing. She finally sets you down once she enters her chamber, which is obviously well-lived in. 

Taking a nearby candle holder and a few logs of wood set nearby the hearth the Prince silently exits her room to go into the room next to hers. You follow her into the room, this one obviously not used but still has a lot of furniture. Using the logs and the candlestick, she ignites the hearth and what you assume is going to be your room fills with heat and light. 

“This is your room from now on. Do not ask for me for the rest of the night,” she gruffs, and closes the door behind her. Her footsteps go away towards the direction of her bedroom. 

You blink, reality setting in. You’re still in your wet clothes, but you can't do much but strip and wrap yourself in dry sheets. You do exactly that, before sinking into the bed. It's like how you imagine sinking into a cloud to be–you fall to slumber in the manner of minutes. 

— 

You do not see her until the next morning, when the sun finally peaks out and you're able to see where you walk. Exiting your room, you note that she's not in her chamber, and you wander the castle. A whiff of something metallic combined with a musk catches your attention and you travel down the stairs until you reach the ground floor. You spot a figure crouched over something, and when you near the sight more, you discover the Prince hunched over a deer carcass. A sickening rip makes you cringe as a limb is torn off from the body. 

“P-prince?” You ask hesitantly. The Prince turns, a calm expression over her face. Only a bit of blood smears her lips. 

“Yes?” 

“What are you doing?” 

“Eating. It is also for you.” 

You stew in silence long enough for the Prince to turn back and resume. “Prince Arlecchino, how long have you been surviving like this?” 

“Since I was cursed.” 

Your heart aches again. “It is raw.”

“Indeed.” 

“It cannot be good for you.”

“It is all I have.” 

It is a sad sight. You think that ‘the Beast’ fits her the best here, like a starved animal instead of a human trying to live. 

“Prince Arlecchino, if you allow me, I can improve your eating experience. It would be healthier for you and it would be more appealing to eat.” 

The Prince perks up her head, glancing back at you.

That day, the Prince learns of the wonders of cooked venison. And perhaps, you've never seen a brighter, warmer light than the one that glints in the Prince's at her first taste. 

—

“What is it that you're reading?” 

Arlecchino glances up from her book. “It is a romance novel.”

“I didn't think that you'd be interested in such things, Prince.” 

“You grow curious about things you do not have.” 

You frown and contemplate. It seems like… she's always wanted company. “Prince, may I ask you why you chose to isolate yourself here?”

The Prince remains quiet for several moments before she responds, in a voice uncharacteristically quiet. “The villagers do not accept my appearance.”

“Because of your curse?”

“Yes. They’re afraid of me. Of my eyes, of my hands. Of my strength.” 

“Have you not tried undoing the curse?”

She bitterly laughs. “There is nothing that breaks the curse. It is impossible.”

You narrow your eyes. “There must be something. There's no such thing as an unbreakable curse.”

“You are right. However, the conditions to break this one is… unobtainable.”

“What is it?”

 The Prince's gaze shifts from you to the stack of books that pile by her bedside. You recognize some of the titles from your village library–they were all in the romance category. You never realize until now that the Prince looks at them with a hopeless longing. “To be loved and to love, is what it is in simple terms.”

There is that heartache again. 

You shake your head, trying to any more painful thoughts circling around the Prince. “If you truly gave up on breaking your curse, you would not still be alive, would you?”

“I will not entertain this thought,” is all she says, but you know her answer already. 

You sigh. “Can I at least… read with you?”

The Prince tilts her head and pauses. A clawed hand grasps onto yours, and you're pulled into her lap. The steady heartbeat of Arlecchino's can be felt from the contact. 

— 

It takes several weeks for you to figure that the Prince does not enforce her punishment. You have escaped out of the castle before, if only to find more things to forage. She has seen you exit out of the castle but she does not chase you or force you to return back. Although you’d like to see the village again, you're also not sure if you do want to go back–the castle is quite comfortable and you’ve had enough of petty village squabbles. You wonder why it is that she doesn't stop you, why she was so forceful of it at the beginning. 

You recall the discussion regarding her curse. She had given up on finding a way to break her curse, however, she had always sought out company. Perhaps she had the punishment to force you to stay… to enjoy a company she has been able to for years. Now, Arlecchino has given up on you being a potential cure to her curse. It must be why she's no longer hesitant to let you go.  

But she is wrong. In those weeks you spend with her, you've learned much more about ‘the Beast.’ You've learned that she is kind in a quiet, observant manner. She's hunted for you, lit your fireplace, made your clothes. She cares for nature, appreciates its beauty and intricacy unlike anyone else you know. And she is romantic, some of the village men could not compare to her when she's read so many books. 

One day, a rose is left on your bed, no doubt collected on your bed. 

That night, you approach her room.

“Prince Arlecchino?”

“Yes?”

“The rose… thank you for it.” 

The Prince remains in silence, observing you with adoration in her eyes despite her bone chilling features. “You’re welcome.”

“Roses are often used as a way to confess,” you say. You know that she knows already, given the amount of books she read. “Is this what I think it is?”

Prince Arlecchino nods. Tentatively, she takes your cheek in her hand and cups it, her claws gently brushing over your skin. “Yes. I think I am in love with you.”

A smile forms on your face and you lean in to press your foreheads against one another, creating an intimate air. “I love you too, my dear Prince.” 

The two of you lean against one another, your lips meeting each other and you close your eyes. The Prince places a hand behind your head, pushing you closer. You don't notice that her nails are no longer red, nor are they sharp. She doesn't notice either. 

The ink from her arms wash away, and with that ‘the Beast’ is swept away, stolen away by you. Prince Arlecchino stands in place of the missing ‘Beast.’ 

[lovelykhaleesiii]

The Wolf & the Stray Girl. [PROLOGUE]

PAIRING: Werewolf!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Little Red Riding Hood AU]

WORDS: 531.

SUMMARY: Nestled in the outskirts of a desolate village, it was known that the woods were a dark, fearsome place not to be ventured. Yet something enchanting lived amongst its shadows, you were certain. And some may call it your bold willingness or others, your naive curiosity, would ultimately uncover the truth.

WARNINGS: mentions of stalking, missing persons scenario.

A/N - my brain is starting to function, and this plot is finally coming along. hope this entices some of ya'll I am actually so excited for this mini series to get out! hoping it’ll be 3/3 (excluding Prologue + Epilogue).

"You stay on that path, girl... Heed my words, carefully. Stay on that road, or you'll end up suffering whatever grave fate stole your sister from us.

The woods are a dangerous place, daughter. In the depths of a mere shadow between the bushes, are hungry eyes lurking. Sudden yet simple sounds, like that of a branch cracking beneath the weight of a stranger's step, abrupt enough to make you twitch towards its direction. These simple minded mishaps that our senses are spoiled in, may mean much more in these woods. Unfathomable forces beyond our feeble, mortal minds will attempt to lure you, eager to lead you astray, before captivating all your senses. Witless and mindless, your mind adrift before you take that first step off that path, you are already long lost, my dear daughter. These woods are life or death. Do not trust anything other than your intuition. I will say it just this once more... Heed my words, dearest daughter. Stay on that road, or we have lost you already..." Your father's daunting words echoed through your slumber mind. His eerie tone, blood-curdling enough, as icy chills spiked across your tender flesh. Regaining consciousness from your slumber, your tiresome eyes began to stir, fighting the sleep as they would flutter awake. In the fleeting moments it took for your sight to readjust to the dim, moonlit setting, your gaze naturally wanders towards the clear, glass window. Pondering over the misty darkness, the beaming silver rays of the moonlight provided a familiar and comforting sentiment. As your eyes lurked wondrously, the sudden grip that wretched at your heart, gripping your natural breath was brutal. In the near distance, just plain enough to decipher, two piercing, lilac orbs gazed upon your direction firmly, without even so much of a blink. Your soft lips fell agape from pure fright, an audible gasp sighing from your breath, as you hastily seated yourself up, leaning closer towards the window. In the sparing moments of your quick and instinctive movements however, it seemed whatever creature that had been prowling in the mask of the shadows, was gone. The direction, the spot in which you swore, you vividly remember having noticed the pair of enchanting, violet eyes ceased to exist. "Ouch-" You utter, your head falling towards your front, as you stare at the minor pinch mark, remaining from your mindless outburst. You needed to make sure this was no dream, that you truly were wide awake, and that all your vital senses were very much functioning. "The woods are a dangerous place, girl..." Your father's words once more ingrained into your memory, his seldom voice filling your ears. And yet, something about those lingering, arresting eyes in the distance, something about the way they did not terrify you, a habitual, gut feeling that churned inside of you, gathering that whomever the eyes belonged to, did not seem to want to hurt you. Your mind absently carried on indulging in such lucrative thoughts, your restless body began to find itself yearning for slumber once more... The day ahead would be a strenuous one, rest was much needed now, before daylight broke and called for you...

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @evenstaris @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @hightowhxre @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @bucknastysbabe @jawline-of-steel

[starberriemilk]

I think Demian might be from Outskirts

Okay so I just wanna say that before I explain what I think, I didn't finish playing LoR (and I don't rlly want spoilers). I watched a video about Lob Corp but I don't remember much from it (here I'm okay with spoilers) so I'm sorry if this makes no sense

So anyways. Ever since the christmas event I realized that Demian might be from Outskirts and the more I think about it the more it makes sense

I was always wondering what the hell Demian meant when he said that he was in Outskirts, what a kid like him was doing in Outskirts?

And then we found out that there are villages in Outskirts in the christmas event... So maybe that's the place he lived in before he moved to the City. Maybe that's why he talks about how the Outskirts are so free. I was spoiled that in LoR there ARE characters that used to live in Outskirts before going to the City... So it's possible (he was a kid so he probably moved in the City with Frau Eva if she exists in PMverse)

Another interesting thing I noticed, with how Demian is always talking about the stars and how he's associated with them. As far as I know- you can't really see the stars in the city, at least not fully, due to all the lights from the buildings and stuff... The only place where you could see the sky clearly would be Outskirts

and we saw that in chapter 5 with Tearful Thing's memories...

Which leads me to what Faust said at the end of christmas event. She said this

Dante assumed that this is a metaphor she's using to say to first focus on the Sinners and themselves before focusing on the stories from the Outskirts... But Faust never uses metaphors. I think she means it literally. What does this have to do with Demian? Well, I've seen theories that Faust may be from Outskirts (because there are like 3 other characters who are from Outskirts who have blue eyes and white hair, and there are other things but I won't go deep into this). Demian may not have white hair but the fact he's not the only person that talks about stars in this way and the fact they both might be from Outskirts... It makes me think it's important

Does this theory have holes? Yes. Does it make sense? Maybe??? But I think I'm getting somewhere with this

[echantedtoon]

In The Moon's Shadow (Yandere Kokushibo x Reader) Ch5 To Go Back

(Warnings: Some drinking in the background.

Yes. Kokushibo is demon while the rest of his family is human. In this timeline one of their ancestors was demon and Michikatsu just happened to be the only one who inherits it, which also implies to any further children he might have.)

Step after step. Day after day.

His legs carried him closer and closer towards the destination of the festivities. Music played. Many people celebrated. Lots of guests coming forth to celebrate the creation of a new union. The birth of a new family soon. The joys of holy matrimony and true love.

"Shameful behavior."

He commented to himself watching as one of the men drunkingly pulled his laughing wife into his lap, giving her a big kiss to her cheek, and holding  up a large mug. "TO LORD TSUGIKUNI AND HIS NEW WIFE!! MAY THEY BE HALF AS HAPPY AS ME AND MY BEAUTIFUL LITTLE LADY HERE!" The wife busted out laughing high pitched giggles in her husband's lap as he pulled the mug back chugging down the sake. 

A loud laughing fit emanated throughout the crowds followed by wolf whistles as the man went back to smothering his wife back with affection as she just laughed. It made his eyes roll and a sigh escape his lips at the sight. Truly degenerate. Now he remembered vividly why he preferred staying away from celebrations and festivals if he could help it. However this one time he couldn't stay away. It was required for him to at least make one appearance. If he didn't then he'd be looked down upon and get punished later by his father. Although by the scent of alcohol in the air as the sights of his father's men acting like drunk idiots everywhere, he already was being punished.

He wanted to arrive the day before the celebration but he had underestimated how long the woman with turquoise eyes would take and despite him hurrying, he was too late. He heard the sounds of loud laughter a mile before he even saw the outskirts of the city and was hit with the reek of alcohol long before he even stepped foot inside the city and made his way quickly through the throngs of people and towards the center. His senses were attacked by the strong smells to the point he had to place a cloth around his nose and mouth in a dire failed attempt to fill it. The crowds were terrible. Pushing against his body uncomfortably so and bumping his arms annoyingly so. And his father wondered why he preferred meeting outside his home city. 

He was hoping to at least wait until the day after the official celebration but he knew lateness would also be frowned upon if he didn't have a good excuse for it and unfortunately he had none. So he'd have to brace himself and push through it like every other uncomfortable experience of his. The bright lights sent his eyes' sensory vision haywire with all these lanterns hung about so he only had the middle pair open for now. He'd deal with the headache later.

Although he supposed he should be grateful that he made it on time considering it took him a few days travel to get here. The small village was one he discovered on his way back home from the latest battle grounds, and honestly he hadn't known that it was even there. Didn't know it even existed until he made camp one night and had been disturbed by a woman with big turquoise eyes bumping into him in the middle of the night. The plan was to originally arrive a few weeks early in the city, find a gift that was acceptable quickly, then deliver it to his brother with a quick congratulations and leave right after to see his father for future battle plans against the Kibutsuji forces. However his plans changed when he stumbled upon the small secret village in the forest pass. Why stay longer in the city he hated when he could just buy something from the village and present it to his brother and leave right after? Even if he was a little late he could avoid the stupid crowds for a while longer. However he would no doubt he dealing with the aftermath of a massive headache later. 

The loud laughter, music, and other blurring noises blending together from the crowds was mixed together in a vile assortment of stupidity. The only thing to remedy this would be to seek shelter at the one place he was dreading a lot because of a certain burgundy haired man the same height and weight as him. He always hated his meetings with family. Always so...

Self depleting. Tiring. Dreadful.

With a sigh he pushed through the crowds faster, pushing a drunk shoulder aside harshly as the idiot tripped and fell face first into the dirt, his comrades howling in drunken laughter at the sight. He hated this! Despicable behavior. And most of these men would be troupes in the upcoming years if his father's peace talks with the head of the Kibutsuji Clan failed once again like it had a couple months ago. Dammit. He should be back there accompanying his father instead of wasting time with this stupid celebration. He almost wished someone had struck down the messenger bird that carried the news about his brother getting engaged. He had been annoyed with the news but his father had been down right furious.

Furious at all of them.

Furious at his brother for getting engaged without his permission or even consulting him. Furious at his mother for going ahead and giving his brother permission as the matriarch of the Tsugikuni Clan. But most of all furious at him. For not already being married before his younger brother even got engaged. He was the eldest. He should've already been married off with at least one child on the way. As heir to the entire clan he should've been doing these things. To succeed. To excell long before his brother did. However the long and hard war had taken up much of the time he had for the last three years. It was his existence and trust his father had in him that called him to the war. His brother was left to train the troops and only be called to the battlefields if both of them were preoccupied with important matters or needed the extra back up. Otherwise it was training or going back to spend time with their sickly mother. He didn't want to be here. He should be at the peace talks to balance his father's temper but-

"Go home! See what Yoriichi has been doing while we're out here bleeding in the dirt!"

"I would be more use to you here."

"DO NOT ARGUE WITH ME, BOY!! You will do as I tell you without question! I won't have the entire Clan humiliated by having people think I can't control my own sons and wife! Go see to that message and make it seem like I had a say in it!"

"Then would it not be more effective if we both attended the engagement ceremony?"

"I have to attend the peace offering Kibutsuji extended. If I left then I'll be seen as weak, and I am not weak! Go attend and see what treachery is going on there without me. If neither of us shows up, then I'll become a laughing stock in front of my own people! I will not have it!! ......And check on your mother while you're there. If your brother is neglecting her needs while running whatever fantasy he's dreaming of, there'll be hell to pay."

"Of course."

If nothing else he's only here for his mother and nothing else there. Yes. He'd see what was going on here, but then he was leaving right after. The closer he got to the main building, the more annoying things became. Possibly because of the pounding headache he had now. Which was why he was glad that at least the guards stationed at the entrance of his home weren't drunk and complete stone faced and serious. A perfect result of his brother's hard training. Which both angered and relieved him to no end. It took no time at all for them to recognize him even before he lowered the cloth over his face to stare at them.

"Open the doors."

They did so immediately, silently without even saying a word. One guard giving a specific coded knock on the door before a loud clicking noise of a thick lock undone before the thick doors was opened from the other side allowing him in and away from a lot of the noise. Not all but a good portion of it was blocked by the fifthteen foot walls and the distant smell of alcohol was slightly dulled by the lush gardens stationed in and maintained throughout his home. Beautiful flowers blooming everywhere, some exotic and only grown within the confines of his home. Some relief flooded out of him but there was still the lingering dread of what was to come. A half growl left his lips.

"Let us finish this."

The hat above his head was removed allowing him some freedom from him for a while. Six eyes popping open one after another in view of everyone and everything around him. Terrifying to most anyone who saw him. And most did cower or look away from him as he began walking straight through the garden and towards the main building. More guards were stationed around the estate or walking around on patrol. Most bowed as he walked past trying their best to not look him in the eyes. Good. Meant he was still largely received as stronger than them. Let them be afraid. He paid no attention to any of them making his way inside the building in search for his mother.

His brother could wait.

The large man caused many a servant and guard to keep to themselves as he made his way through finely furnished walls filled with paintings and other fine things only they could afford. Fine life for him to live outside of the battlefield. The only thing he could do for now was make his way to his mother's bed chambers and push open the door once he arrived there. The door creaked open loudly as he looked into the room...

Empty.

The bed laid bare and empty. Neatly made blankets covering the soft futon. It had looked completely unused and unslept in. It looked like his mother was up to her habits again and not resting like she was supposed to, and his brother wasn't doing anything to make sure that she did! Again! His anger rose as his soaring headache throbbed from his head, although he did not show it outwardly.

"Where is my mother?"

A passing servant girl no older than sixteen jumped in shock at his sudden voice looking wide eyed in fear at him. She had been trying to just speed walk by without him noticing looking down at the basket of laundry she held but it seemed she'd be spoken too after all. Her eyes shrank as a hard gulp swallowed down her throat.

"Answer me."

"L-Lady Akeno is in the west garden w-with Lord Yoriichi, Sir!," the girl squealed out of fear like a mouse trembling like she had been dunked in ice water.

His body stiffened up. His fist nearly crushing his hat from the sudden revelation. "...I see."

The girl whimpered out in fear, curling up on herself more as the man turned silently and stiffly walked out of the room and down the halls. Of course she was there. Of COURSE HE was with her. OF COURSE HE HAD TO RUN INTO HIM SO SOON!! He felt dread and anger filling up his veins like boiling water the closer and closer he walked towards the west garden. The west garden was the most beautiful part of the giant garden surrounding the estate with a large koi pond and a few statues, so of course his mother would choose there to relax. Where else would she be but there?! With every step closer and closer to the west garden, he became more and more angered. His father would be seeing a lot more blood shed from him on the battlefield after this! His anger would be taken out on whatever unfortunate enemy soldiers that crossed his path later-

"Aniue?"

He froze.

...no...No. NO!!

"Michikatsu, my son. Is that you? I fear my sight might be going too."

He didn't move. Didn't blink....But he had no choice in the end not to look. His head turned. Three wide eyes stared. Pupils shrank. Before he snapped his head away, two pairs of eyes closing and disappearing melting back into flesh and disappearing from view. 

"It's been so long. Come here and greet your mother."

He could hear the smile in her voice. The happiness of seeing him after months on end in the battlefields. That's why he granted her the comfort of a normal face. It would put her more at ease. Her comfort was something that he wanted especially now. So when he turned to her, a face of a normal man now, he tried his hardest not to make his anger known outright.

"It's been a while..Mother."

An older face smiled at him. Her soft features worn and tired with wrinkles and eye bags showing her age. Her long black hair already leaking grey strands through them. Yet despite all of that, she was still one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Her long silk robes trailed the floor and pooled around her feet as she smiled at him. On either side of her was another younger woman around his age...and another man whom bore a striking resemblance to-

"Elder brother!"

 A soft smile on a face mirroring many of his own features smiled back to him in the same happiness as their mother. Plume red eyes softly crinkled up in a smile as burgundy hair the same shade as his own framed them handsomely. 

Yoriichi Tsugikuni.

It's no wonder why many women fawned over him more than himself. His soft nature, and handsome features was a more desirable one compared to his usually frightening one. Now thinking about it, it's not a surprise that his younger brother actually managed to get engaged first. His earrings swayed annoyingly as he tilted his smile at his brother. His hands held their mother's body up on her left side while the strange woman he'd never seen before stayed next to her right doing the same.

"I'm so happy to see you here, Michi!," Yoriichi greeted.

He bristled up at the nickname before frowning. "Don't call me that."

"Are you still insisting on being called 'Kokushibo' outside of the battlefield as well? The kanji for that is blank death, and that doesn't suit my aniue at all." He smiled warmly at him making an embarrassment arise in him.

"If I had it my way, you'd call me by my fighting name."

"Enough." Their mother wriggled one hand out of the woman's before motioning for him to come closer with a smile. "My son. It's been too long. What brings you back home?"

Despite his body screaming at him to stay away, he approached anyways and took the hand extended to him. "I returned to check on your health while Father attends the peace talks. You should be in bed resting instead of walking around this late." Yoriichi should've made sure of that!

Her expression soured before she sighed. "That man. All he ever thinks about is his own wants. It's a miracle he hasn't died from his blood pressure yet. I'm perfectly fine to walk around my home as I please. I'm sick not dead."

"You should listen to Father and the doctors. You'll only get worse pushing yourself. He won't be happy to know you aren't obeying them."

"Well you let me worry about your father." And he often wondered why Yoriichi didn't listen to him. "Did you just come home to see only me?"

Ah. She must've been referring to the hell storm outside. A.k.a Yoriichi letting the entire city get wasted for this stupid celebration. He stiffened up his jaw but held his composure in front of their mother.

He nodded. "Yes...Father insisted that I come and see who Yoriichi decided to wed." His hardened gaze finally looked into the patient eyes of his brother and his anger flared anew. "He was very displeased by the sudden news. Strange you never mentioned anything about this before."

"Not true. I told him that I was in love but he dismissed me as he usually does," he spoke calmly with that smile, "I took that as he wouldn't care if I married her either, but it's customery to let all our family know about my engagement."

"And you'd let out people get drunk and act like fools?" He challenged with a deeper frown. "It's a disgusting and disgraceful sight out there! Our men acting like vile pigs! What if there was a surprise ambush? Or an emergency that called for more troops being called out? They wouldn't be able to do anything being more useless than a blinded three legged horse!"

Despite his anger cracking through, his brother's smile never wavered. "There's no danger right now, Michikatsu. Everyone has been so weary and tired from all this fighting. They can use one night of celebration and joy after three years of war. Besides we have something worth celebrating don't we?" 

Aren't you happy for me? That's what his words and eyes were secretly asking him but he wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"One night is all it takes for us to lose everything! Do not allow something like this to happen again." His brother's smile wavered. "You still haven't even told me who you intended to marry. Father would like to know at least that fact."

"You've already seen her." Yoriichi's head turned. His head turned. And both stared at the woman beside his mother he hadn't recognized. "Michikatsu, this is Uta. I've chosen her to be my bride."

The woman seemed to look slightly nervous when he stared at her but smiled nonetheless. "Hello! You're Michikatsu! Yoriichi's told me so much about you. I'm so glad we could finally meet."

This woman...This woman was both what he DID ...and didn't expect Yoriichi to fall for. Didn't expect her because judging by how she looked, she was a mere commoner below their social status in her plain clothes. Something their father would NOT be pleased with or would have permitted. Did expect because honestly...he absolutely looked like someone his brother would fall for. Someone not bound in politics. Her big dark eyes made her face look cute and the cloth tied around her head gave her a soft of homey look that could get someone to relax easily. 

He couldn't help but sneer at her in his mind and think of how much more prettier she'd be if she had more color in her eyes. Turquoise to be exact. That was such a lovely and unique color. With rosey cheeks and a polite smile and an attitude that could put him in his place politely without losing her cool and didn't treat him differently despite being a demon-

He shook his head upon realizing the strange looks he was getting  from the three of them before clearing his throat. "I see..And where did you meet her?"

"We met two years ago." His brother smiled fondly at the woman, Uta, in front of him. "Kibutsuji's forces had wiped out most of the east side of our territories. Uta was one of the survivors we brought to the city for sanctuary. We've bonded since, and fallen in love."

He could almost gag on how sickly sweet this was. Nothing like he'd ever interact with his wife whenever he did get married as heir to the Tsugikuni Clan.

"Dear, have you visited a bakery before coming here?" He hummed looking back at his mother. She gazed at him in a confused manner. "You smell strongly of foods."

Foods? What could she- Oh. Oh right. He's almost forgotten about the entire reason why he was here. Silently he reached into the folds of his haori coat and pulled out a small cloth bag before bracing himself from anger and held out the bag to his brother who blinked in surprise.

"Here. An engagement gift to you and your bride. You'll find it acceptable."

Yoriichi gained a look of surprise but then smiled widely at him before taking the bag from him. "Brother...You got me a gift."

"It would've been improper of me if I didn't give you a customery gift." He bluntly said. It's nothing more than a mandatory custom to be upheld to avoid any unwanted drama.

They all watched his beaming brother just smile fondly at him before opening the bag and reaching his hand inside. The strong smells of cinnamon and mint rolling through the air as his hand grabbed something and pulled out a green object. They watched as Yoriichi held up the green rose shaped object that smelt like mint instead of a rose.

"How curious."

"What is it?," Uta asked taking it from him to ponder in her own hands. "....It smells of mint but looks like a green rose."

"It's a carved soap," he explained making them all look back at him. "I came across a carver whom carved soaps and candles into interesting shapes. I thought it'd be appropriate for a small gift."

"Aw. It's cute," Uta gushed looking at the little mint rose as Yoriichi went back to curiously rummage into the bag.

His own eyes widened when a wave of cinnamon hot them pulling out the red candle and pausing as the carved in pattern of the sun. Yoriichi stared at the object in his hand for a long while before dropping the bag and reaching his other hand out to run his fingertips delicately over the patterns. No doubt taken aback by the detail of it. 

"Yoriichi?" Their mother questioned turning her attention to the candle he held and was also taken by the sight of the beautiful sun pattern. "Oh my. How lovely, and what a pleasant fragrance."

"It's what they call a 'scented candle'. Apparently they mix oils and spices into the wax in order to produce a desired aroma. The carver whom carved the soap also carved artwork into candles. I had her customize it just for the occasion."

His mother looked back to him blinking. "She? Are you telling me a woman made these?" 

"Yes. Two women, but the only one who deserves praises is the one whom carved them into artwork. The other...was highly unpleasant." 

His mother hummed. "Strange. Usually you don't see young women doing such work-"

"I love it." All looked back to his brother as he looked up with a bright, fond smile. "It's beautiful, Michi. I'll cherish it always."

He had to force his eyes away from the softness of his eyes before he could be embarrassed. "Tch. It's just a candle and some soap. Don't treat it like gold."

"It's better than gold. You obviously put a lot of thought into these. I'm so lucky to have you as a brother."

He didn't dare look up at him. He wouldn't allow himself to be embarrassed anymore than he already was. He fulfilled his obligations, and he would leave right after he made sure his mother got back to bed. His mother however was still looking over the candle in fascination, Yoriichi letting her run her own hands across the carving. So pretty. Such detailed work.

".... Michikatsu." He looked back to his mother. "Who's the name of the woman who carved this?"

"I do not know. She didn't say and I didn't ask."

"She does fine work. ..Do you perhaps think you could get me some like this? I think they would look so lovely decorating the book cases. I've never seen anything like this before and they would be such a nice addition to the home."

He blinked. His mother..wanted more of these candles as well? He continued staring at her for a long moment before nodding. "I can certainly get you as many as your heart desires, but it's getting late. You should be getting back to bed."

His mother sighed. "I swear you boys worry too much about me."

"And you worry to LITTLE-!?" He immediately ducked just in time to avoid his brother's attempted hug and sprung a few feet away bristling. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

"Aniue, you're such a good brother!" Yoriichi held out his arms with a wide smile. "Come here and let me thank you!"

"NO! Stop acting like a child!" He continued to back up as Yoriichi approached before gaining a panicked look. "I mean it, Yoriichi!"

"Elder brother!"

"CEASE THIS CHILDISH BEHAVIOR!!" 

Both women just watched as Michikatsu panicked before turning and running away with his smiling brother right behind him smiling shouting at him to desist his madness. Eventually Uta slowly blinked before looking at the older woman.

"Do they always act like this around each other?"

"You'll get used to it soon enough." Her eyes glanced back at the candle with a hum. "But it is strange."

"What is?"

"Michikatsu spoke a little fondly of the carver...his tone shifted to a softer one when mentioning her."

"What...does that mean?"

Her eyes glanced at her oldest who cursed as Yoriichi finally caught him and gave him a hug despite the grimace his older brother gave him.

"I'm not sure...but I think it will be interesting if it develops further."

[shisuisui]

A dangerous jutsu (Shisui x Reader)

Shisui tells Y/n about his Kotoamatsukami

Age 13

Shisui Uchiha's Kotoamatsukami is not only a highly secretive genjustu, but it´s also extremely powerful. Hence, few people know of its existence and that Shisui can use it. He can´t just trust anyone with this secret, but he knows that he wants to tell Y/n. Y/n is the person he trusts the most. The person he would sacrifice himself for. He might be young, but he knows his feelings towards his best friend.  

The moon hung low in the sky as Shisui and Y/n sat by their favourite place, on top of a cliff on the outskirts of the Hidden Leaf Village from where they could watch the river flow beneath them. It was their favourite place. They trained here, shared conversations and sometimes just sat in silence beside each other. The gentle sound of flowing water provided a soothing backdrop to their conversation.

Y/na turned to Shisui. “Spit it out!” His eyes widened when he looked at her. A questioning look on his face. “What are you talking about?” She just rolled her eyes. She knew him too well and could look through his scheme. “I can sense that something is bothering you. And before you say everything is alright the crease on your forehead would disagree.”

He looked at her. She knew him well. And he knew that he could trust her. “Y/n I´m going to tell you something, and you must promise not to tell anyone. No one knows that I can do this, and it should stay that way.” She looked over at Shisui. He was acting so serious, something he usually didn´t. Y/n nodded and urged him to continue.

“I can use something called Kotoamatsukami. It´s a genjustu that can control people´s minds. But it´s so subtle that the people are not aware of it and think they´re doing things of their own will. You don´t even need to make eye contact to cast it. I did some research on some old Uchiha scrolls and it says that it can only be used every few years, the cool-down period changes depending on the shinobi. But you have to believe me Y/n I would never, NEVER, use this on you.”

To say she was speechless would be an understatement. She knew he was powerful; she had seen him on a mission, experienced his Body Flicker Technique with her own eyes, and saw what he was capable of…. But this… he was much more powerful than she had thought. And he had just told her his biggest secret. Well, the second biggest, the first being his love for her, but she doesn’t know that yet.

Y/n reached out and placed a comforting hand on Shisui's shoulder. He looked at her, eyes hopeful. "J-Just promise me that you'll use it wisely, and only when there's no other option." He immediately took the hand on his shoulder in his own and held onto it with both hands. “I promise Y/n, I´m already reluctant to use it. It just feels so wrong to manipulate someone like that. I promise I will only use it if someone dear to me is in grave danger and there´s no other way.” She believed him. Y/n always believed everything Shisui said, and he did the same.

[eaglebow09]

BOTW OC: Anya (Rito/Hylian)

Anya, an orphan residing on the outskirts of Rito Village, bears the weight of her mixed heritage – a combination of Rito and Hylian blood that has marked her as an outsider among the locals. Her origins trace back to a unique and controversial love story between her Hylian mother and her Rito warrior father.

Anya possesses a bold and adventurous spirit, driven by an unwavering determination that has endured despite years of isolation and rejection within her own Rito community. The shadows of her past cast a cloud over her self-confidence, yet she remains resolute in her quest to discover her true origins and purpose, to find solace amid the enigma of her existence.

Fiercely independent and unyielding in the face of adversity, Anya's spirit shines through her tenacity.  Anya shares a complex history with Revali, once childhood friends before their relationship took a tumultuous turn. During their youth, Revali's exceptional talents and the praise he received began to fuel a growing sense of superiority. This newfound self-assuredness led him to distance himself from Anya, convinced that her presence would only tarnish his reputation and hinder his pursuit of greatness. As the years passed, their once-strong friendship dissolved into a bitter rivalry, marred by deep-seated animosity and contempt. By the time adulthood arrived, Anya and Revali had become bitter adversaries, their past friendship now a distant memory.She refuses to be subdued by Revali's attempts to belittle or undermine her, consistently meeting his challenges head-on with a fiery resolve. Loyalty runs deep within her, and she is willing to make great sacrifices for the sake of her friends, embodying a sense of unwavering commitment.

Once she sets her sights on a goal, Anya becomes a force of unrelenting determination, ready to overcome any obstacle that stands in her path. Her primary objective in our story is to unravel the mysteries of her past, a pursuit fueled by her determination and the hope of finally finding inner peace amid the chaos of her existence. --------------------------------------------- I wanted to a colored version of her so you all could see what she looks like and get an idea of what I see when I draw her. I am new to color so be gentle haha. This is an original character (oc course) for a (Revali x OC) webcomic I have been working on. I post on my Deviantart page and Chapters 1,2 & 3 are already out.

I know what it's like to make efforts to stay in touch with my culture and respect my ancestors and that which came before me. At times you feel lost, half yourself, torn, and otherwise unsure of who you are. People guess, and try to make assumptions about you before they want to know and the world can be unkind. I use to be bullied when I was younger because of my family standing out in the community I grew up in but no matter what I tried to stay the course and only in recent years I have found a sense of harmony in all of it.

I created Anya not just a character in a fandom I love; But I want her to be an example and a reminder that, regardless of our origins, we all possess the power to shine brightly. That we can be propelled by the legacy of our ancestors. I myself am a mixed kid (O'odham and Mexican) and hope that it resonates as I write more on how she moves forward to uncover her past and embrace her unique heritage, It can serve as a testament to the resilience and strength that lie within us all.

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[ombrathefurry]

Do you have an idea of how Rivertown overall looks like with homes and everything?

I'm trying to make my own fictional village and it's pretty messy :P

-🍄🍀 anon

I do, actually, I have a very vivid idea in my head because Rivertown came to me in a dream and I was actually in the area

it was surrounded by tall mountains in an elevated valley, with a large river splicing it in half down the middle that flowed in and out of the valley through two different waterfalls

I like to think the river runs into the town from glacier runoff and runs out of the town into another river that eventually leads to a lake much later on

the river that runs out of the town has a damn/hydroelectric power plant (but don't think of anything too modern, the technological advancement of thadrofinica is behind and very different when compared to earth's)

it would be dark and wet, barely ever seeing the sunlight because of how rainy and cloudy it is all the time due to the town being on the opposite side of the mountain's rainshadow

the town itself is decrepit and sketchy, with old buildings lacking renovations they need making up the entirety of the area

there would be lots of alleys, and most of the roads are worn down brick roads with lamps for lighting

bridges would be made to connect the two halves of the town with one sort of "highway" center bridge somewhere in the middle

everything sketchy you can imagine would be there, with things like graffiti or barbed wire fences or anything else being very common

in the furthest corners of the town (around the backmost outskirts) there are some ruins of old streetcars/trains no one knows the origins of

there's also a path for supplies imports and exports somewhere that cuts into the mountains and into the valley

there's little to no vegetation (with the vegetation existing being coniferous) with lots of moss and mold growing everywhere

that was more of an infodump than anything coherent but hopefully that makes sense

usually when designing towns it's good to look into geography to work out how it'd actually function in most aspects, it's not something that comes easy and almost always starts out messy!

[immcoconut]

When katsuki acknowledged that it's impossible to save his village without outside help, he ran to the abandoned church on the outskirt of his village- not to seek help from the god but from the devil that lives in it

"I wish to make a deal" katsuki screamed after entering the church, huffing, a sense of urgency in his voice "you, the fucking devil, I'm speaking to you"

A bat light figure moved his wings to uncover himself and dropped right In Front of katsuki'

"me? At the house of god? Well that's something" the devil spoke from Shadow, not showing himself yet

"God gives you trial and error. This could be a test from god to judge my faith in him but I couldn't give a crap about it if I can't save my family. I /NEED/ certain protection "

"Who told you you don't need /protection/ from /me/? The figure walked ahead, the moonlight finally showing his dark green scales, bat-like wings and massive form. Regardless, he didn't look like someone trying to hurt katsuki

" I want to make a deal," Katsuki spoke again, firm " if you would just hurry! My village is in danger"

" Relax, kid, I smell no soul yet. You're people knows how to fight" the demon squatted down to be eye level with katsuki " they can hold on for now"

"Answer me kid, how did you find me? How do you know you can trust me" Izuku squinted his eyes, a sly smile on his face "and is this deal really worth it?"

"It's natural that an abandoned house of gob is a favorite spot for demons like you. I knew you would be here" katsuki spat those words out "As for trust, I don't trust you at all but I know you're the motherfucker who pulled me out of the river when I was 4 so I ain't outlooking that either" katsuki huffed "And it's none of your business if it's worth it or not" he jabbed his fingers on Izuku's shoulder " if anyone from my village dies, I swear -"

Izuku laughed abruptly, making katsuki frown

" you're interesting, you'll do" Izuku walked few step away " fine I'll save your village but in return, I want to be bound to your soul"

" what? Don't devils just kill the wisher and take their soul"

"My goals a little different "

"You see, I fancy humans. Their culture, traditions and history fascinates me"

" couldn't fucking care less about your tale. turn into a human and live among them or whatever but hurry up"

"No no, the terms needs to discussed. I don't want the angels to annoy me"

"What?"

" so, no matter how many times I try, no matter how many books I read, how many people I met, I just don't understand humans. The stuff they do, the drive force they have, the illogical stuff- like why are you sacrificing yourself for people that don't care about you? I want to understand them but I just can't-" Izuku made a frustrated noise where Katsuki's patience had already ran thin.

"Then I realized, maybe I lack this /emotion/ this human emotion." Izuku tapped his head with his finger, as if emotions lived in brain "That's why I want to bind my soul to yours. Day by day my soul will absorb yours, this will allow me to experience human emotions, understand them, experience them! But as you lose your soul,your heart will grow cold. You'll lose your happiness, joy or every emotions day by day and eventually lose the will to live"

Izuku stared at katsuki " Do you still want to make a deal?"

"Hurry the fuck up"

" very well "

______

This is how the demon deku was bound to katsuki bakugou for the rest of katsuki's life. While deku gains more human emotions, and experiences more human affairs, katsuki grew dull by day.

Katsuki was still determined to give Izuku the best experience a human would have because of how grateful he felt to deku for what he did and stayed together with Izuku throughout the entire journey so Izuku could experience everything slowly and not be overwhelmed.

When deku absorbed entirely of katsuki's soul, he experienced the most complex human emotion that ever existed - love. He loved katsuki bakugou- for all the time they spend together, for all the activities they did but katsuki's heart had already gone cold

[bluewavesofchange]

The guardians of the Pharaoh.

Rebirth of ancient secrets.

I don't own Yugioh or it's characters.

Prologue

Our story is now underway, we’ve learned of one goddess’s fate…but what of the two sisters? What became of Clarity and Rozu? And what role will they play in the life of the nameless Pharaoh?

The twin sisters returned home after the battle with Dartz was won. Many of their comrades and friends had been lost, the goddess’s held a time of mourning for the lives that were lost, a wave of saddness and grief washed over the lands. Every being felt the pain, families who lost husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, daughters and sons, lifelong friends who were just gone, companions just erased from existence. Rozu was displeased with everything that had occurred. What a waste of lives lost in an unnecessary battle that would be forgotten by the humans they fought for. As for Clarity she wept for days, spilling her grief for those no longer with them but she had no regrets for they saved the human world that would prosper and live on for eons to come.

It was only after many days that Rozu noticed that some of the creatures had not returned to the monster world, one of them being the Siren. Had she stayed behind by accident or had something happened to her? Whatever the reason, they needed to find her. Rozu had her own reasons for seeking her back…she convinced her sister to return to the human world where they would spend the next 5000 years searching for the creatures that had remained behind and the lost goddess of the sea.

Their search eventually led them to the lands of Egypt…but by then they had depleted most of their energy and were on the brink of death. Being away from their homes for so long, away from the energy that gave them strength and fuelled their very souls had been a death sentence. They didn’t even have enough power left to return home, however if they gave up their physical forms and found two human souls to attach themselves to they could preserve their life essences until they found a way to form new bodies. But who would they choose?

One night the sisters separated to go search for their perfect hosts. Clarity found herself strolling through a poor village on the outskirts of the kingdom. She found her heart going out for the struggling humans she passed as she walked amongst them, many were nothing more than skin and bones while others were dying of illness. There seemed to be very little food, the buildings crumbling with no signs of vegetation anywhere and not a drop of water to drink. But despite all this she sensed a new life about to enter this world, a life free of evil and the suffering that plagued it.

She found a small house, listening to the people rustle about. She peered into an open window, seeing a pregnant woman lying on the floor on a bed of straw, her family members trying to help her through her labour. Clarity continued to watch, wondering how someone could have a child in a dying village like this…the woman spoke in a language the goddess didn’t understand. She seemed afraid but the man (her husband most likely) held her hand, a warm smile on his face as he stroked the woman’s cheek, speaking in the strange tongue. The goddess watched the man in wonder, seeing something in his eyes that she had not seen in anyone else in the village…she saw hope…

A few moments later the woman screamed in pain as she gave birth to a small fragile baby boy. The boys hair was a mix of black with red tinted tips, his bangs pale blond, his skin was almost pale compared to his parents tanned complexion. And sadly the boys eyes were closed as if he were asleep and he didn’t make a sound. the father held the boy in his hands, waiting for the moment he would cry and take his first breath of life but as the seconds passed it never came. The mother wept, crying out in devastation. Clarity knew in that moment she had found her host.

She spoke an ancient spell as her body started to glow, her skin starting to crack, light spilling from the crevices and flooding the broken down village. As she finished chanting her body exploded, an intense blinding light engulfs the village.

As the light fades away, a soft whimper draws the mans attention back to the new-born still in his hands. The babes’ eyes slowly open, shocking the father as he was met with violet orbs only to have them to fade to brown. A soft giggle leaves the baby’s mouth, drawing in his first breath of air. The father let out a shout of joy seeing his son was going to live. He hands the new born to his wife, tears of joy were running down her face as she holds her son to her chest, stroking his cheek as he coos sweetly. In that moment the family were given a sense of hope for their future.

Later the boy would be named Heba…

Meanwhile in the palace…

Rozu was moving along the walls as a shadow. There was a sense of darkness and evil within these walls, she could taste the corrupted souls that festered in this place. It made her purr in delight; she would surely eat well once she found the right host. Then she could find the siren and return home with her sister…

The sound of a scream pulled her from her thoughts. Narrowing her eyes she followed the noise, finding a large room that probably belonged to the Pharaoh. The room was large and decorated in fine objects and gold. And in the centre was a large four posted bed covered in white silk sheets. On it lay a woman about to give birth, another woman (probably a healer or midwife) was busy helping her through the soon to be mothers pain. Rozu watched from the corner, a sense of sorrow filling her…remembering when she was almost a mother many many years ago…

A thought comes to mind as a grin forms on her face, the child about to be born was most likely royalty and if she used it as her host she could use its life of privilege and power to her advantage. She could train it in her ways of magic and darkness; the child could become extremely powerful…

Making the decision she started to chant, the torches in the room starting to flicker before they went out, terrifying both the woman in the room, shadows starting to swirl around the walls, taking the form of vicious beasts as they circled the pregnant woman. She watched with fear in her eyes, her arms wrapping protectively over her belly, not that it would help. The shadows soon engulfed her as her screams echoed through the room…

King Aknamkanon stormed to his chambers where his wife was giving birth, he had heard her screams of terror, fearing something had happened to her and his unborn child. He flung the doors open and was met with a horrifying sight…his beloved wife lay lifeless on the bed, her eyes glazed over and her skin pale…he made his way over and sat on the bed, pulling his beloveds body into his arms, stroking her cold cheek as tears formed in his eyes…

However he didn’t have long to grieve as the sound of a new born crying filled his ears. The heartbroken Pharaoh looked up at the midwife who had been standing beside the bed; a bundle wrapped in a soft purple blanket was in her arms. The woman looked up at the Pharaoh before bowing her head, “My Pharaoh…you have a son…” the man gently laid down his deceased wife and stood up, walking over to the midwife. He gazed at the child…his eyes widening, the baby boy had dark skin like his father and mothers, and his hair was black with maroon tips and golden bangs framing his face. The man carefully took the infant into his arms and held him close, “I have a son…” he whispers as the boy slowly opened his eyes and nearly gave his father a fright…eyes were golden, swirling like flames before they slowly fading to a dark red colour.

The Pharaoh should’ve been concerned, he should’ve been afraid for this wasn’t normal but all that faded away when the babe cooed and smiled up at his father, wiggling in the blanket till his arms were free, reaching up for his fathers. The man’s heart melted in that moment as he smiled and leaned down, letting the boy rest his pudgy little hands rest on the kings cheeks, a cute giggle leaving the boys mouth. The king chuckled softly, “My little prince you are a wonder to behold.”

A moment later the king’s advisor walks into the room, watching Pharaoh Aknamkanon interacting with his child. He notices the deceased queen on the bed, the midwife pulling a sheet over her body. The advisor would begin preparations for her funeral and find a wet nurse for the new born child. He approaches the king and bows his head, “My king I believe congratulations are in order but also you have my sympathies for loss of your wife.” Pharaoh Aknamkanon looked at the short man, a sad smile on his face as he rocks the new born baby to sleep. “She was a good woman. My heart breaks for her…but she left me with a beautiful child, a son who will be a great leader someday.”

“And what shall you name him my king?”

The Pharoah becomes lost in thought for a moment as he looks down at his sleeping child before kissing the boys forehead, “His name shall be Atem.”

[abyssmalice]

Of all the people Ayumu could meet on their trip around Sumeru taking care of things, Tonia is not somebody they would have expected to stumble across. Much to their annoyance, they hoped they'd never get to see any of the Harbingers ever again, but of course that whatever higher power likes toying with them wouldn't grant their wish.

Now the question is; given her own... peculiarities, what does she know?

( There's nowhere to go with the approaching rainstorm. )

"If you're looking for shelter, Gandharva Ville isn't far from here. You should make it before the storm hits if you hurry up." maybe she'll leave them alone.

It doesn't make sense.

In her own memories, the seat of the Sixth is a cold throne, lacking any name or activity. It's been that way for years, she remembers her colleagues telling her. And yet, if she looks through other memories - the special ones, preserved in silver resin, there is a face and a certain sense of understanding, of connection, associated with that empty seat.

It doesn't make sense. The leylines pry open their thoughts and offer nothing either - no memory, no data. If the world remembers nothing, then that should be that. The story should end there. But her mentor has taught her much, and among them, there is a peculiar piece of knowledge—to be remembered is to exist. Memory is existence.

And this is what Tonia remembers and not-remembers: the Sixth had stolen a gnosis, their last whereabouts being around Sumeru. Liyue is not too far.

Fine then. Even if the region won't take kindly to Fatui presence so soon again, the situation begs for an answer nonetheless. So an excuse about business trips and whatnot thrown to the wind, the Harbinger treks her way across the national borders. She doesn't head straight for the city—even if intel is likely to be better there, she doubts she can walk through the gates without a blink.

The girl consults the map in her hands, an annoyed sniff slipping. The outskirts, villages... There's apparently one nearby enough. She can start there - and before it starts pouring, judging from the heavy clouds in the near distance—

"Huh?" The voice doesn't register as familiar, not immediately. She blinks up, finding a boy with a giant hat - "Uh, yeah, I know that. I'll be heading there soon."

Another blink. The strange not-memory she shouldn't have overlays, for a moment - the non-existent Sixth had a penchant for big hats too, judging from all the memories of them she collected. Sparse scenes of a young boy, seemingly no older than her, in Inazuman dress and who spoke like—

"—You!" It falls out immediately, once it all clicks. Tonia points an insistent finger at Scaramouche. "Where the hell have you been? No, what the hell has been going on! I know something's happened, because I can barely remember you anymore, you know - compared to everyone else, who just straight up doesn't!"

[echantedtoon]

Waning Obsession(Yandere Kokushibo x Reader) Ch4 To Go Back

(Warnings: Some drinking in the background.

Yes. Kokushibo is demon while the rest of his family is human. In this timeline one of their ancestors was demon and Michikatsu just happened to be the only one who inherits it, which also implies to any further children he might have.

EDIT: Spelling errors are fixed plus I have changed how Yoriichi acts towards the end since I was told he does act a little ooc near the end.)

Step after step. Day after day.

His legs carried him closer and closer towards the destination of the festivities. Music played. Many people celebrated. Lots of guests coming forth to celebrate the creation of a new union. The birth of a new family soon. The joys of holy matrimony and true love.

"Shameful behavior."

He commented to himself watching as one of the men drunkenly pulled his laughing wife into his lap, giving her a big kiss to her cheek, and holding up a large mug. "TO LORD TSUGIKUNI AND HIS NEW WIFE!! MAY THEY BE HALF AS HAPPY AS ME AND MY BEAUTIFUL LITTLE LADY HERE!" The wife busted out laughing high pitched giggles in her husband's lap as he pulled the mug back chugging down the sake.

A loud laughing fit emanated throughout the crowds followed by wolf whistles as the man went back to smothering his wife back with affection as she just laughed. It made his eyes roll and a sigh escape his lips at the sight. Truly degenerate. Now he remembered vividly why he preferred staying away from celebrations and festivals if he could help it. However this one time he couldn't stay away. It was required for him to at least make one appearance. If he didn't then he'd be looked down upon and get punished later by his father. Although by the scent of alcohol in the air as the sights of his father's men acting like drunk idiots everywhere, he already was being punished.

He wanted to arrive the day before the celebration but he had underestimated how long the woman with turquoise eyes would take and despite him hurrying, he was too late. He heard the sounds of loud laughter a mile before he even saw the outskirts of the city and was hit with the reek of alcohol long before he even stepped foot inside the city and made his way quickly through the throngs of people and towards the center. His senses were attacked by the strong smells to the point he had to place a cloth around his nose and mouth in a dire failed attempt to fill it. The crowds were terrible. Pushing against his body uncomfortably so and bumping his arms annoyingly so. And his father wondered why he preferred meeting outside his home city.

He was hoping to at least wait until the day after the official celebration but he knew lateness would also be frowned upon if he didn't have a good excuse for it and unfortunately he had none. So he'd have to brace himself and push through it like every other uncomfortable experience of his. The bright lights sent his eyes' sensory vision haywire with all these lanterns hung about so he only had the middle pair open for now. He'd deal with the headache later.

Although he supposed he should be grateful that he made it on time considering it took him a few days travel to get here. The small village was one he discovered on his way back home from the latest battle grounds, and honestly he hadn't known that it was even there. Didn't know it even existed until he made camp one night and had been disturbed by a woman with big turquoise eyes bumping into him in the middle of the night. The plan was to originally arrive a few weeks early in the city, find a gift that was acceptable quickly, then deliver it to his brother with a quick congratulations and leave right after to see his father for future battle plans against the Kibutsuji forces. However his plans changed when he stumbled upon the small secret village in the forest pass. Why stay longer in the city he hated when he could just buy something from the village and present it to his brother and leave right after? Even if he was a little late he could avoid the stupid crowds for a while longer. However he would no doubt he dealing with the aftermath of a massive headache later.

The loud laughter, music, and other blurring noises blending together from the crowds was mixed together in a vile assortment of stupidity. The only thing to remedy this would be to seek shelter at the one place he was dreading a lot because of a certain burgundy haired man the same height and weight as him. He always hated his meetings with family. Always so...

Self depleting. Tiring. Dreadful.

With a sigh he pushed through the crowds faster, pushing a drunk shoulder aside harshly as the idiot tripped and fell face first into the dirt, his comrades howling in drunken laughter at the sight. He hated this! Despicable behavior. And most of these men would be troupes in the upcoming years if his father's peace talks with the head of the Kibutsuji Clan failed once again like it had a couple months ago. Dammit. He should be back there accompanying his father instead of wasting time with this stupid celebration. He almost wished someone had struck down the messenger bird that carried the news about his brother getting engaged. He had been annoyed with the news but his father had been down right furious.

Furious at all of them.

Furious at his brother for getting engaged without his permission or even consulting him. Furious at his mother for going ahead and giving his brother permission as the matriarch of the Tsugikuni Clan. But most of all furious at him. For not already being married before his younger brother even got engaged. He was the eldest. He should've already been married off with at least one child on the way. As heir to the entire clan he should've been doing these things. To succeed. To excell long before his brother did. However the long and hard war had taken up much of the time he had for the last three years. It was his existence and trust his father had in him that called him to the war. His brother was left to train the troops and only be called to the battlefields if both of them were preoccupied with important matters or needed the extra back up. Otherwise it was training or going back to spend time with their sickly mother. He didn't want to be here. He should be at the peace talks to balance his father's temper but-

"Go home! See what Yoriichi has been doing while we're out here bleeding in the dirt!"

"I would be more use to you here."

"DO NOT ARGUE WITH ME, BOY!! You will do as I tell you without question! I won't have the entire Clan humiliated by having people think I can't control my own sons and wife! Go see to that message and make it seem like I had a say in it!"

"Then would it not be more effective if we both attended the engagement ceremony?"

"I have to attend the peace offering Kibutsuji extended. If I left then I'll be seen as weak, and I am not weak! Go attend and see what treachery is going on there without me. If neither of us shows up, then I'll become a laughing stock in front of my own people! I will not have it!! ......And check on your mother while you're there. If your brother is neglecting her needs while running whatever fantasy he's dreaming of, there'll be hell to pay."

"Of course."

If nothing else he's only here for his mother and nothing else there. Yes. He'd see what was going on here, but then he was leaving right after. The closer he got to the main building, the more annoying things became. Possibly because of the pounding headache he had now. Which was why he was glad that at least the guards stationed at the entrance of his home weren't drunk and complete stone faced and serious. A perfect result of his brother's hard training. Which both angered and relieved him to no end. It took no time at all for them to recognize him even before he lowered the cloth over his face to stare at them.

"Open the doors."

They did so immediately, silently without even saying a word. One guard giving a specific coded knock on the door before a loud clicking noise of a thick lock undone before the thick doors was opened from the other side allowing him in and away from a lot of the noise. Not all but a good portion of it was blocked by the fifteen foot walls and the distant smell of alcohol was slightly dulled by the lush gardens stationed in and maintained throughout his home. Beautiful flowers blooming everywhere, some exotic and only grown within the confines of his home. Some relief flooded out of him but there was still the lingering dread of what was to come. A half growl left his lips.

"Let us finish this."

The hat above his head was removed allowing him some freedom from him for a while. Six eyes popping open one after another in view of everyone and everything around him. Terrifying to most anyone who saw him. And most did cower or look away from him as he began walking straight through the garden and towards the main building. More guards were stationed around the estate or walking around on patrol. Most bowed as he walked past trying their best to not look him in the eyes. Good. Meant he was still largely received as stronger than them. Let them be afraid. He paid no attention to any of them making his way inside the building in search for his mother.

His brother could wait.

The large man caused many a servant and guard to keep to themselves as he made his way through finely furnished walls filled with paintings and other fine things only they could afford. Fine life for him to live outside of the battlefield. The only thing he could do for now was make his way to his mother's bed chambers and push open the door once he arrived there. The door creaked open loudly as he looked into the room...

Empty.

The bed laid bare and empty. Neatly made blankets covering the soft futon. It had looked completely unused and unslept in. It looked like his mother was up to her habits again and not resting like she was supposed to, and his brother wasn't doing anything to make sure that she did! Again! His anger rose as his soaring headache throbbed from his head, although he did not show it outwardly.

"Where is my mother?"

A passing servant girl no older than sixteen jumped in shock at his sudden voice looking wide eyed in fear at him. She had been trying to just speed walk by without him noticing looking down at the basket of laundry she held but it seemed she'd be spoken too after all. Her eyes shrank as a hard gulp swallowed down her throat.

"Answer me."

"L-Lady Akeno is in the west garden w-with Lord Yoriichi, Sir!," the girl squealed out of fear like a mouse trembling like she had been dunked in ice water.

His body stiffened up. His fist nearly crushing his hat from the sudden revelation. "...I see."

The girl whimpered out in fear, curling up on herself more as the man turned silently and stiffly walked out of the room and down the halls. Of course she was there. Of COURSE HE was with her. OF COURSE HE HAD TO RUN INTO HIM SO SOON!! He felt dread and anger filling up his veins like boiling water the closer and closer he walked towards the west garden. The west garden was the most beautiful part of the giant garden surrounding the estate with a large koi pond and a few statues, so of course his mother would choose there to relax. Where else would she be but there?! With every step closer and closer to the west garden, he became more and more angered. His father would be seeing a lot more blood shed from him on the battlefield after this! His anger would be taken out on whatever unfortunate enemy soldiers that crossed his path later-

"Aniue?"

He froze.

...no...No. NO!!

"Michikatsu, my son. Is that you? I fear my sight might be going too."

He didn't move. Didn't blink....But he had no choice in the end not to look. His head turned. Three wide eyes stared. Pupils shrank. Before he snapped his head away, two pairs of eyes closing and disappearing melting back into flesh and disappearing from view.

"It's been so long. Come here and greet your mother."

He could hear the smile in her voice. The happiness of seeing him after months on end in the battlefields. That's why he granted her the comfort of a normal face. It would put her more at ease. Her comfort was something that he wanted especially now. So when he turned to her, a face of a normal man now, he tried his hardest not to make his anger known outright.

"It's been a while..Mother."

An older face smiled at him. Her soft features worn and tired with wrinkles and eye bags showing her age. Her long black hair already leaking grey strands through them. Yet despite all of that, she was still one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Her long silk robes trailed the floor and pooled around her feet as she smiled at him. On either side of her was another younger woman around his age...and another man whom bore a striking resemblance to-

"Elder brother!"

A soft smile on a face mirroring many of his own features smiled back to him in the same happiness as their mother. Plume red eyes softly crinkled up in a smile as burgundy hair the same shade as his own framed them handsomely.

Yoriichi Tsugikuni.

It's no wonder why many women fawned over him more than himself. His soft nature, and handsome features was a more desirable one compared to his usually frightening one. Now thinking about it, it's not a surprise that his younger brother actually managed to get engaged first. His earrings swayed annoyingly as he tilted his smile at his brother. His hands held their mother's body up on her left side while the strange woman he'd never seen before stayed next to her right doing the same.

"I'm so happy to see you here, Michi!," Yoriichi greeted.

He bristled up at the nickname before frowning. "Don't call me that."

"Are you still insisting on being called 'Kokushibo' outside of the battlefield as well? The kanji for that is blank death, and that doesn't suit my aniue at all." He smiled warmly at him making an embarrassment arise in him.

"If I had it my way, you'd call me by my fighting name."

"Enough." Their mother wriggled one hand out of the woman's before motioning for him to come closer with a smile. "My son. It's been too long. What brings you back home?"

Despite his body screaming at him to stay away, he approached anyways and took the hand extended to him. "I returned to check on your health while Father attends the peace talks. You should be in bed resting instead of walking around this late." Yoriichi should've made sure of that!

Her expression soured before she sighed. "That man. All he ever thinks about is his own wants. It's a miracle he hasn't died from his blood pressure yet. I'm perfectly fine to walk around my home as I please. I'm sick not dead."

"You should listen to Father and the doctors. You'll only get worse pushing yourself. He won't be happy to know you aren't obeying them."

"Well you let me worry about your father." And he often wondered why Yoriichi didn't listen to him. "Did you just come home to see only me?"

Ah. She must've been referring to the hell storm outside. A.k.a Yoriichi letting the entire city get wasted for this stupid celebration. He stiffened up his jaw but held his composure in front of their mother.

He nodded. "Yes...Father insisted that I come and see who Yoriichi decided to wed." His hardened gaze finally looked into the patient eyes of his brother and his anger flared anew. "He was very displeased by the sudden news. Strange you never mentioned anything about this before."

"Not true. I told him that I was in love but he dismissed me as he usually does," he spoke calmly with that smile, "I took that as he wouldn't care if I married her either, but it's customary to let all our family know about my engagement."

"And you'd let out people get drunk and act like fools?" He challenged with a deeper frown. "It's a disgusting and disgraceful sight out there! Our men acting like vile pigs! What if there was a surprise ambush? Or an emergency that called for more troops being called out? They wouldn't be able to do anything being more useless than a blinded three legged horse!"

Despite his anger cracking through, his brother's smile never wavered. "There's no danger right now, Michikatsu. Everyone has been so weary and tired from all this fighting. They can use one night of celebration and joy after three years of war. Besides we have something worth celebrating don't we?"

Aren't you happy for me? That's what his words and eyes were secretly asking him but he wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"One night is all it takes for us to lose everything! Do not allow something like this to happen again." His brother's smile wavered. "You still haven't even told me who you intended to marry. Father would like to know at least that fact."

"You've already seen her." Yoriichi's head turned. His head turned. And both stared at the woman beside his mother he hadn't recognized. "Michikatsu, this is Uta. I've chosen her to be my bride."

The woman seemed to look slightly nervous when he stared at her but smiled nonetheless. "Hello! You're Michikatsu! Yoriichi's told me so much about you. I'm so glad we could finally meet."

This woman...This woman was both what he DID ...and didn't expect Yoriichi to fall for. Didn't expect her because judging by how she looked, she was a mere commoner below their social status in her plain clothes. Something their father would NOT be pleased with or would have permitted. Did expect because honestly...he absolutely looked like someone his brother would fall for. Someone not bound in politics. Her big dark eyes made her face look cute and the cloth tied around her head gave her a soft of homey look that could get someone to relax easily.

He couldn't help but sneer at her in his mind and think of how much more prettier she'd be if she had more color in her eyes. Turquoise to be exact. That was such a lovely and unique color. With rosey cheeks and a polite smile and an attitude that could put him in his place politely without losing her cool and didn't treat him differently despite being a demon-

He shook his head upon realizing the strange looks he was getting from the three of them before clearing his throat. "I see..And where did you meet her?"

"We met two years ago." His brother smiled fondly at the woman, Uta, in front of him. "Kibutsuji's forces had wiped out most of the east side of our territories. Uta was one of the survivors we brought to the city for sanctuary. We've bonded since, and fallen in love."

He could almost gag on how sickly sweet this was. Nothing like he'd ever interact with his wife whenever he did get married as heir to the Tsugikuni Clan.

"Dear, have you visited a bakery before coming here?" He hummed looking back at his mother. She gazed at him in a confused manner. "You smell strongly of foods."

Foods? What could she- Oh. Oh right. He's almost forgotten about the entire reason why he was here. Silently he reached into the folds of his haori coat and pulled out a small cloth bag before bracing himself from anger and held out the bag to his brother who blinked in surprise.

"Here. An engagement gift to you and your bride. You'll find it acceptable."

Yoriichi gained a look of surprise but then smiled widely at him before taking the bag from him. "Brother...You got me a gift."

"It would've been improper of me if I didn't give you a customary gift." He bluntly said. It's nothing more than a mandatory custom to be upheld to avoid any unwanted drama.

They all watched his beaming brother just smile fondly at him before opening the bag and reaching his hand inside. The strong smells of cinnamon and mint rolling through the air as his hand grabbed something and pulled out a green object. They watched as Yoriichi held up the green rose shaped object that smelt like mint instead of a rose.

"How curious."

"What is it?," Uta asked taking it from him to ponder in her own hands. "....It smells of mint but looks like a green rose."

"It's a carved soap," he explained making them all look back at him. "I came across a carver whom carved soaps and candles into interesting shapes. I thought it'd be appropriate for a small gift."

"Aw. It's cute," Uta gushed looking at the little mint rose as Yoriichi went back to curiously rummage into the bag.

His own eyes widened when a wave of cinnamon hot them pulling out the red candle and pausing as the carved in pattern of the sun. Yoriichi stared at the object in his hand for a long while before dropping the bag and reaching his other hand out to run his fingertips delicately over the patterns. No doubt taken aback by the detail of it.

"Yoriichi?" Their mother questioned turning her attention to the candle he held and was also taken by the sight of the beautiful sun pattern. "Oh my. How lovely, and what a pleasant fragrance."

"It's what they call a 'scented candle'. Apparently they mix oils and spices into the wax in order to produce a desired aroma. The carver whom carved the soap also carved artwork into candles. I had her customize it just for the occasion."

His mother looked back to him blinking. "She? Are you telling me a woman made these?"

"Yes. Two women, but the only one who deserves praises is the one whom carved them into artwork. The other...was highly unpleasant."

His mother hummed. "Strange. Usually you don't see young women doing such work-"

"I love it." All looked back to his brother as he looked up with a bright, fond smile. "It's beautiful, Michi. I'll cherish it always."

He had to force his eyes away from the softness of his eyes before he could be embarrassed. "Tch. It's just a candle and some soap. Don't treat it like gold."

"It's better than gold. You obviously put a lot of thought into these. I'm so lucky to have you as a brother."

He didn't dare look up at him. He wouldn't allow himself to be embarrassed anymore than he already was. He fulfilled his obligations, and he would leave right after he made sure his mother got back to bed. His mother however was still looking over the candle in fascination, Yoriichi letting her run her own hands across the carving. So pretty. Such detailed work.

".... Michikatsu." He looked back to his mother. "Who's the name of the woman who carved this?"

"I do not know. She didn't say and I didn't ask."

"She does fine work. ..Do you perhaps think you could get me some like this? I think they would look so lovely decorating the book cases. I've never seen anything like this before and they would be such a nice addition to the home."

He blinked. His mother..wanted more of these candles as well? He continued staring at her for a long moment before nodding. "I can certainly get you as many as your heart desires, but it's getting late. You should be getting back to bed."

His mother sighed. "I swear you boys worry too much about me."

"And you worry to little." His eyes narrowed down to his brother despite Yoriichi never loosing his smile. He loathed absolutely everything he allowed to go on. Disgraceful. "...I will send you a report later after I alert Father of my visit here." He turned without another word placing the hat back on his head. "Get this city straightened out or else it'll be your hide to be hung out to dry."

[hexxxboys]

Glory

Stage Name:  Glory

Birth Name: Dante Marquess 

Position in Group: Arson’s assistant 

Age: unclassified 

Pronouns:  They/Them

Sexuality:  unclassified 

Dom/Sub/Switch: Switch

Relationship Status: Highly selective multi

Birthday: April 21st

Zodiac Sign: Taurus 

Blood Type: A

Height: 5′6

Eye color: black but switches to greyish blue when in his angel form. 

Current Hair color: jet black in his human form. Golden blonde when in his celestial form. 

Supernatural Species: Guardian Angel  

Personality:  Serious. Hard working. Curious Nature. Loyal. Faithful. Somewhat Innocent. Doesn’t understand sarcasm. Is very respectful , proper and has strong morals. However he is also a bit of a rebel when it comes to doing things he believes is right. Therefore he has a strong sense of justice and doesn’t like when people do cruel things in the name of good or justice. 

Bio: Dante once was the crown prince of a kingdom that no longer exists. He came from a wealthy family that ruled a very large and prosperous kingdom that a lot of other royals wanted and because of this Dante was engaged at a very early age to a princess of a neighbouring kingdom. He never wanted to get married but he knew it was his duty to fulfil his parents' wishes, securing an alliance that could further prosper their kingdom and also provide an heir. 

Dante was a kind prince which made it easy for him to be loved by all. He was smart and charming, making it very easy to be liked , no one ever thought that the prince would ever have an enemy or at least this was what the prince and his people thought. Until one day the prince was kidnapped from his carriage then was taken to the outskirts of town.

All his life the crown prince had believed to live in a happy kingdom with adoring people but he didn’t know that on the outskirts of town people were living in terrible conditions. The land had been forgotten by the king , by law and even the gods themselves had turned a blind eye to the people. Dante was in shock to see the poor conditions the people in his beloved kingdom were living in. 

Dante didn't like what he saw , he understood why those people were driven to such lengths for a bit of money.  So he offered to help in some way to make a better living situation for the people of the village. It took a lot of convincing but he was able to make them give him a chance to do something for the community.  However the people that had kidnapped him thought it was a great idea to hold the Crown Prince hostage and ask for a handsome amount of money for his ransom but they never counted that their actions would start a war.

As the weeks went by , Dante lived among his people doing things no one thought a prince would ever do. He worked fields , created temporary solutions for droughts in certain areas and even cleaned regions that were filled with waste. He created a better living environment for his people , perhaps it wasn’t the best but it was something that helped get the people by. Dante thought that once he got home his father would do something to make the living conditions of his citizens but he was wrong.

It took a few weeks for the royal guards to search the entire kingdom but they eventually had found the prince in a small town near a forest. When the prince saw that his guard had shown up he was expecting them to show a bit of kindness to the people that had taken care of him during his time in the village however the guards quickly took the prince away and imprisoned anyone who they suspected was responsible for the kidnapping without asking any questions. The prince was confused as to why the guards would react in such a violent way. The first thing that popped into his head was that he was going to report this abuse to his father.

Once arriving at the palace the king and queen threw themselves at the prince. They were overjoyed that he was alive and well. The prince told them what he had lived through with so much excitement but the look on his parents face was one pure horror that made the prince quiet down. His mother fainted dramatically when he said he had worked in the fields for a few days while his father grew angrier by the second.  His father ordered Dante to go to his room and wash. Dante wasn't understanding anything , he couldn't understand why his parents were reacting the way they were. He understood he had been kidnapped but he never said who had done it and top of all that he had spent a lovely time with the people of the village. He felt a sense of purpose and fulfilment after a long day of hard work. 

After a long time of thinking , Dante decided to confront his father so he made his way to his father's study and overheard a conversation that left him cold. He heard how his father ordered his guards to set fire to the village so they could pay for their crimes against the crown prince. He also said that with the low lives gone the kingdom would be even more beautiful than it already was. Dante couldn't believe what he was hearing and ran out of the palace frantically. He stole a horse and rode as fast as he could to the village but he was too late ,  it was already up in flames. He tried his best to help the people escape but eventually died while trying to save a young girl that was trapped in her house. Dante eventually ascended into the heavens becoming an angel. He was able to see what happened after his death : his kingdom fell into ruin after his father’s actions, the village people fought back causing a rebellion that divided the kingdom and neighbouring kingdoms took that opportunity to strike. The war lasted years until the royal family was wiped out and a new king was appointed. Dante was sad about it but there was nothing he could have done. During those years he was forced to remain in the heavens since angels could not interfere with the human's lives. So Dante stayed in the heavenly court to receive training in order to become a guardian angel. 

The years passed by as Dante grew in his abilities. He had plenty of charges who successfully lived peaceful lives and were able to pass on without falling from their path.However there was one that got the angel in some trouble. Briar Salem was appointed in his care but Briar chose the dark path and cultivated his magic in the demonic art. The gods were not happy in having lost what they considered a powerful ally that could be useful after ascending. So Dante was punished for his incompetence however when the news of Briar giving birth spread to the heavenly court , Dante  begged to be given another chance. He wanted to protect the child and guide him to the righteous path, unknowing what the gods actually had planned for the child.

 The task was given to the angel but the child , he’s been protecting him since he was abandoned but it hasn’t been a peaceful journey. Now that the child has returned with his family , Dante has to find a way to get closer without causing suspicion. The only way he could think of was masquerading as a mortal to get a job that allows him to be close to the band and child , luckily for him the band’s manager needed a new assistant.