#and that person could have gone to heaven without being covered by the blood of Christ

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

if people were fundamentally good, we would not need Christ

[mimi-tada]

My thoughts/notes on yotd ch265! :D

There's not any analysis just my jumbled up thoughts on this chapter. Sorry.

-They're still in the chalice, this might be really dumb but doesn't this suggest that their power is limited, sure they brought yona to the heavens but only when she was in the chalice. They didn't even know where hiyruu was for like 2000 years so idk,especially how the warriors are going to get out.

-also it's still the dragon god who looks like jae ha who's with zeno, and the kija and shin ah look alike with yona I think. I don't know if the dragon gods are separate beings at this point or just an amalgamation

-also with how they address yona as the 'crimson dragon' and not her name just shows how out of touch they are because they don't even acknowledge that she's a human and I don't think they can even tell the difference between her and hiyruu.

-Idk how to properly articulate this but theres a theme of fate in the manga with the dragon warriors being blood bound to serve yona not out of there free will shown with how jae ha first reacted to yona. I feel like this chapter clears up this problem because even though they don't have the blood? I think? They still want to serve yona because of the relationships they built with her. Even the dragon god says that their feelings are because of their blood but they are still willing to protect her and their each other too. And how they were willing to fight a dragon god themselves, might show that they're going go against fate.

-Additionally I think I mentioned before about 264,that the dragons would face some kind of consequences for turning fully human like a version of the crimson dragon disease. While they didn't get the disease, they got seriously harmed(shin ah being blind now? And kija losing his arm) but that's not really a consequence for being fully human rather them just attacking the dragon god. So this has got me thinking, will they get more consequences when they turn human or when the dragon gods meant turning them human, they just mean to amputate their dragon limbs off???If that's what they're planning on doing, that's gonna be sooo cruel.

-But also if the dragon gods remove their blood from the warriors without that much of a fuss, can't the same be with hiryuu's descents since yona now is in heaven. So would that mean that the crimson dragon disease would be gone since its caused by the blood? So su won wouldn't be sick anymore. But I don't entirely trust the dragon gods to be true to their word.

-Also the sword and the shield message? I always thought that it was meant to symbolise a person as a sword and shield like su won and hak. But I think it literally means the objects because a few chapters earlier yona throws hiryuu's sword away when she doesn't want to fight zeno and then the recent volume's cover art is zeno holding it.

I wonder if it means that zeno will have significant role in taking down the dragon gods now that he has the 'sword'. I can't think of what the shield would be cus there aren't that any significant ones I can remember.

-Speaking of zeno, he really doesn't deserve all this and I get that the dragon gods are doing this to punish him for trying to attack yona but kija and shin ah literally tried to attack the dragon god and while the got seriously injured it's less bad compared to zeno's immortality. But even the dragon god didn't get angry at them and didn't treat it like a punishment, saying they can still live peacefully???? (Ignoring how the dragon god can think they can live peacefully without some of their limbs and yona) isn't weird the difference in how they treat someone trying to hurt them compared to someone trying to hurt yona? It makes me think that there was something different between the other dragon gods and hiyruu for them to treat her so different. Like I wonder what their dynamic is because it's obvious that hiyruu is centre in their relationship but it could be just 2000 yrs without him that is making them prioritise him more.

-I feel like the dragon gods literally can not do anything about zeno, because they can't kill him. I wonder if it has anything to do with the yellow dragon god not being present in the recent chapters. I kinda think that he's trapped inside of zeno or something along those lines.

-I just love how zeno is in this chapter, you can see his raw emotion in each panel. And you can tell he genuinely cares both the warriors when he's trying to make them stop attacking, he's more concerned with there safety now then his permanent immortality. And I feel like this speaks volumes.

And how he scolds the dragon god about yona not being a pet and to treat her like a human, he really doesn't care about the consequences anymore of speaking out ot a literal god and is only focused on the others' wellbeings way more than his.

-I really like how the development of the dragons was explored in this chapter tho. Jae ha for instance, his whole character is centered around the theme of freedom. But he's will to lose his leg and his life to protect yona and his brothers, it's such a big change from how he was in the beginning and really shows how he considers them a family.

-Also kija, he's to most interesting to me because he has had the most positive experience with being a dragon warrior compared to the others and has a strong faith in the dragon gods. And now he meets the dragon gods like this, I wonder how he's going to process this because on one hand he's mad at them because of what they have done to yona and the others warriors but then he has spent almost his entire life believing in them and essentially worshipping them.This has to hit hardest on him because I don't think he can get over years of faith just to find out they were evil, so it will be fun to explore later on.

Shin ah is so interesting here too, he's the first warrior to full on attack the dragon god to get yona back, I think this mirrors how he attacked su won too. Like he did it for yona, because she means so much to him. Like she gave him his name and made him able to be with hhb, I just really like their relationship. She basically means the world to him.

Also he was really calm after basically being blinded, I feel like that was more the reassure the others because zeno was definitely panicking. Tho I'm forgetting if the warriors are aware that zeno betrayed them, it would be interesting to see them react to that if they weren't.

This scene parallels the one where zeno talks about seeing abi's eyes one last time but here shin ah takes zeno's role. I feel like the warriors all parallel zeno some how in this chapter at one point, especially the last line when jae ha says he's was glad to appart of the dragons. I like to believe that because zeno has been an outsider for so long even with the og warriors so it's like someone finally gets him. And omg, its kinda repeating what has happened to zeno with the og warriors with yona gone/ hiyruu dead and shin ah going blind/abi wearing a blind fold :0 that's why zeno looked so traumatised,it getting rid of any hope he has, now that he know he can't get rid of his immortality.

-Imo the only people who can do something about the dragon gods is yona, zeno or su won with how the narrative is framed. Maybe that can act as the myth of the sword and the shield but I don't remember su won ever having a shield or maybe he's acting as the dragon king because 2 chapters ago he says 'this is my last duty as king' or something along those lines. And the myth makes it sound like the king and crimson dragon are 2 separate things so maybe there's some hope for him :D

Also what happened to yun??? I hope he gets do something significant too because it feels like all the chapters are focusing on the others but I don't even think he knows what has happened to them. So it'll be heartbreaking if he finds out.

Thanks for reading my brain dump! Ik it made no sense but yea (I'll grammar check this tomorrow so apologies)

[elpida]

closed for @persephonyed from wishlist

sienna really hated being dragged to these dinners. her parents were posh, extremely posh and she never felt like she fit into what they wanted, adopted and very different from their natural born son, her brother. he'd become a golden boy the minute he was born and she couldn't help but feel pushed aside. they fronted the cost of her business, a florist with the most beautiful shop and yet that was never enough. it was never what her brother was doing, he was going to be a lawyer and she already knew that was all they'd talk about tonight, though how could she be ungrateful? without them she'd have been left in a care home, a frightened girl, given up.

the night prior she'd got in a bit of trouble, see she was a sweet person up until you offended her friends or made them uncomfortable and one guy at a bar had made her friend very uncomfortable. it ended up sienna shouting her mouth off, defending her friend without little to much thought about anything else. the same guy jumped her on her way home that night, mugged her, took her phone and wallet and that was fine, a phone could be replaced and cards could be cancelled and replaced but it's what they'd elft her with that wasn't all that easy to fix. she'd gone straight to the bathroom on arrival and was seemingly camping out there, trying to use concealer and foundation to cover the purple bruised eye, the bruise having formed today... but there was no hiding the bust lip, or the fact she'd carelessly rubbed her nose and it started bleeding again. the door was half open and she didn't realise she'd left it like that until she caught the sight of the other in the mirror, they'd never got along.. always bickered ever since they first started coming to these dinner parties, showed face as her parents said. "i can move, if you need the toilet or something.." she mumbles, holding tissue to her nose, her other hand white knuckle gripping the side of the sink. she very clearly wasn't up to being here but heaven forbid she not come, she'd never finish being berated for it. "oh— fuck." she cursed under her breath, a little blood dripping to her hand that now cupped her face.

[wonderlanddrifter]

Overture: The Golden Age, Only Three Seconds Away.

Whale-fall, Heaven-fall, two leviathans sacrificed for the same purpose, a garden of the deep and a perpetual kingdom.

I fell in love with the noose. I simply can't stop thinking “What a perfect little knot.” It is your wondrous embrace that takes me to the sky. I waste the minutes, tying necklaces in honor of our bond. So I whisper to myself as I create our artificial spawn. Ah! Here comes the idiotic Ouroboros! Head caved in since birth, it searches for its tail to form infinity, only to choke its throat, as you’ll do the same to me. And so it loops and loops, trying to grasp a possum nonexistent, only to find me! I flail unwillingly to resist, and like the true lover you are, refuse to take me away from your hold. And in our coitus of struggle, you give the mercy of sleep. Only, I can’t sleep. That harsh, taboo intimacy I have with you is my purpose, a muse. So why can’t I feel your love? Am I not the common petty thief, hand snatched by the aristocrat, ego eyeing gold too bright? Am I, not the desperado, loathed by the crown but loved by the dung-covered commoners? Am I not the sad man, fueling the bonfire of misery with his living ashes, hoping to be consumed?

Is it because you only have eyes for mistresses? Has our love become a distant dream? And when did that river split its course? What is it about those witches dancing naked in the woods, covered in goat’s blood and their urine that is better than me? I can do many rituals without following such sodomite desires! I’ve made many pieces in your honor, yet now you deny me so!

As I float like heaven’s unfinished work in your false choking care, I contemplate, for I see your affair with the other man on the gallows. He lays limp, piss-stained leggings and crows pecking bits of eye and finger. So I conclude with the truth.

You’ve never loved me to begin with.

It is the coward’s tool of death, and I deal with better and greater inspirations. It is the tool of weak willpower, one even a fool could use. Rather, I recall the warriors of old: when suffering defeat after battle as a survivor, rather than weeping at gone memories, they instead take their own blade, their honor, and become a marriage with their tool of blood. HARAKIRI. In the finale when Glory sleeps in his cradle of slaughter, the practitioner of the begone craft, unable to withstand the new white canvas of lull, finds his implement in the bosom, as a dear comrade gives a final kiss: that being his dear friend, the blade. There are other companions, yes, but the spear is too cumbersome in this beautiful parting, and the firearm is too industrial, too simple. Every part of the blade is meticulously crafted by a master, and it dances with its partner. And what of the noose now? A knot that can be tied by a child to make life pennies cheap, to lynch on a mass scale and at a moment's whim. Compared to the personal, painful ritual that takes dedication to one’s life. With that knowledge, I think I know what I’d rather take.

Of course, dedicated to the child of mankind, art, of which the greatest muse is death. The artist subconsciously prays to death, every stroke and word from the pen a life we give, and in completion, taxidermy of dreams obsessed. It is the single feeling that tugs at the all-heart and conducts the lacrimosa, it is the celebration of our biology, the grand finale. But now it is no longer a perfect muse, leaving behind a corpse of the corpse-maker. Leaving insipid carcasses to shamble, a body willing where the spirit is weak, leaving an imprint of sweet and bloody memories clinging to the song of life. But it is not for them anymore.

There is no purpose to Death anymore, Legato, a constant humming in the orchestra of pulsating viscera and biological song, refusing to stop listening, refusing to stop breaking the rhythm with their subpar soprano.

So like the other abstractions in this world of delusions, they lie to the universe and pretend the stage-play of Death is still sorrowful indeed. That the slaughterhouse of war still carries honor and gore in a field of sacrifices, that pestilence still carries heavy, reminding all the limitations of flesh, that I should still cling to life, when an un-life is already confirmed on the other side.

Because The Moth still sings, a chorus of damnation that tells us things still flow naturally, effervescently, and in order. A lie, The Moth which is guided by the sunlight to ferry souls into their cells—the lukewarm labyrinths of judgment— in the precipice of extinction, in the infernal dream and the aether, nothing but an over-glorified bank of memories. All for the illusion that the universe still moves like clockwork after His death.

The only ending that truly matters, one that made even the world wept in melancholy, The Death of God, a divine suicide. In a tapestry of rot and rebirth, it alone was the perfect color of dust. In my twice-born life, I strolled monotonously through the first— a distant daydream—, and only when my cell called for me did I attempt to run, but found the hours to be too short. So I prayed.

And The Moth, parasite, thief of my identity, and dear friend answered. The lovely little fairy of annihilation gifted me all of eternity, freeing me from the cell with a silk string. Legato, my shrieking lullaby discordant in the song of life, a performance repeating upon repetitions. If I so desire, I could join the blind idiotic beings of the deep sea, looking at the dark; an inhumane existence not too dissimilar to the cell. But I was called back from the monotony of eternity by the muse, to showcase to the world the glory and beauty of the holy wounds of reality.

I’ll put it all in a masterpiece, a requiem, the lacerations and gashes from the radiance flowing a heavenly river, the sorrow which He bears alone still seeks to suffocate others in a miserable whisper, the flutterings of the neurotransmitters dreaming of better days in wonderland. So let it be then! The white canvas that will be covered in a thousand intricate fields of flowers supping on His blood, to show the world the beauty in oblivion, a gallery of everything holy from the coalescence of one divine soul. The harrowed and maimed form reveals the prismatic decay of everything, including what is to be forever. I will join the purulent magnum opus, for the artist is only as great as the sum of his work.

My second life, biology that is abandoned for enlightenment through the painting of violence. I am one of the many flies chasing the dead-light of dreams, I am one of the cells in the matrix of The Moth-Song. Legato, I am an unending note.

A vagitus declaration. I return to the broken kingdom as a prophet. My gray matter is a blank canvas waiting to be filled, it contains only the muse, The Moth, and a name: Apostles, a relapse of the mind, fingernail inching towards destruction in an attempt to recollect an artifact of a bygone nerve.

[livio-doublefang]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑹 𝑯𝑨𝑫 𝑩𝑬𝑬��� 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑷𝑷𝑬𝑫 , & while no one was seriously injured , Vash was still out cold aboard the ship hidden in the sand storm . A spaceship full of lost tech hiding inside the safety of a storm , it sounded STUPID . He’d known the stampede wasn’t a human from day one , but to think he’d still have contact with the S.E.E.D.S ships — Wolfwood doubted even Knives knew that . But the shock quickly wore off , even as Meryl asked the old woman ( her name long forgotten by the undertaker ) & Roberto stood there rolling his eyes as if he wasn’t listening just as intently ; Wolfwood couldn’t pay attention . Exhaustion was FINALLY settling in his limbs ; his clothing was covered in bullet holes , his legs felt heavy & his head was starting to spin . But , unlike the others , he couldn’t rest just yet . He needed to go & see . He needed to be sure….

It had taken an hour of convincing for Wolfwood to be let off the ship . He’d told the reporters he needed to check up on some things & left it at THAT . Now on the outskirts of Hopeland , the previous exhaustion was starting to fade , replaced by a constant ANXIOUS buzzing . The steamer was being guarded , & the streets were full of curious people , but neither mattered as he started his trek into the vast desert.

The walk was long , especially since Wolfwood didn't know the exact location of where he was headed . But he NEEDED to see if there was anything left of Livio to retrieve . The realist in him knew the answer ; the most he'd get were the scattered parts of BRAINS & BLOOD panting the sand steamers deck . His body either being eaten by worms or retrieved by that blue-haired freak . So , as the silhouette of his little brother could be seen , Nicholas was certain that the exhaustion was finally causing his mind to play CRUEL tricks . But as he grew closer , the small outline of a person became a vivid image . ❝ Livio. ❞ He echoed after a second , voice raw from hours of yelling without water . He wasn't sure what to say , not when Livio — who he had long convinced himself to give up on — sat there , ALIVE , looking up at him after years of being apart.

It was a dream wasn't it. This was that place the nuns at the orphanage would always tell him when he cried for his patents. This...had to be that. Heaven? Right? But no...it couldn't be. The sun still baked and his body still hurt and he was too coated in blood for a place that sounded so nice. In his blood, in all those he killed...in Nichos own too. So then why. HOW was this real? Or was this another sick trial by the Doctor? By his Master...?

It hurt to move, to shift. All his healing energy had gone for keeping his brain and his skull intact which meant healing the rest of his body would be far longer than normal. But even so, he slumped forwards on his knees squinting up through the blood and cracked mask half dangling from a beaten and bruised face. There was no denying who this was. Heaven or Hell be damned. It-...really was his big brother. He...came back for him?

A choked gasp wheezed through his broken form as both relief and terror filtered through pale golden eyes.

This was the first time in years, he'd have seen Wolfwood, really truly without the Obedience Ward over his foggy mind. It was...so much to take in. What was he suppose to say? To do...? How, after all he had done. Almost killing the very man who was and still is his world? Where did he start? So he started as any other scared and frightened child would. With a broken sob and a crumbling expression as tears began to build and pool in terrified and pained horizon painted eyes.

''I-....I'm sorry." Livio choked out finally, giving voice to the spiral of agony deep in his chest as those same tears Nicholas would tease him for as a child began to spill down his dirty face, mixing with the blood that ribboned down his jawline. "M'so s-sorry...ha-...I-....I couldn't stop-..." His words were like a beg on the desert stale breeze, a broken plea for his brother to forgive him.

"I-...never wanted t'hurt you."

''I-....I'm sorry, Nicho."

[starshipsofstarlord]

There was a Girl...

Pairing | Jace Wayland x reader

Summary | When Clary becomes a shadowhunter, she notices how cold and ruthless Jace is. Every one seems to relate to his pain, not resonating at quite the same level. They’re all mourning nevertheless.

Warnings | Mentions of death, brief smut (handjob), angst, heartbreak, unrequited feelings (for Clary)

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap ��

Opening your eyes, you awoke to Jace's chest, his blonde hair falling over his face. You preferred how it looked when it was a little bit scruffy instead of slicked back, and you reached for one of the hanging strands. They were like seams of gold, reflecting from the light that hid within him.

Most people had the wrong perspective on the young man, they only saw a well skilled shadow hunter. But they ignored the smart and witty, yet simultaneously charming person that he was underneath all of his runes. His parabatai Alec was familiar with the set of abilities that his brother figure had, and all that he would accomplish. People thought, because of Jace’s distorted, and confusing past, that he was just another warrior to serve whatever institute that he was sent to.

But in fact, he was not. His duty would always be, to put his family and friends first. He liked to put you on the top of the list, but you always felt the need to scrap that idea, claiming that you could not be his priority from start to finish. It was as though you knew what you future held for you, and how indeed, he could not manage to protect every person that he cared about. The prospect was a great responsibility, far too much for one shadow hunter, even if they be among the best of their kind.

To put such a weight on your own shoulders was defiantly cruel, it would always end in failure, no matter what was done to prevent said downfall. There was never a possibility of saving everyone, that was insanity. The monsters had to kill, in order for you all to remain outside of Idris, and continue on with your heaven sent duty.

“Jace?” You could tell he was awake from how he smiled at the sound of your voice. “Come on.” It was an attempt to encourage him, but you were quick to realise that it wasn’t working. He didn’t like mornings all that much, for good reason too, after all you were shadowhunters.

“Jace.” Your voice became louder and clearer, up to the point where it no longer sounded like your own. He looked away from the screen, to see the new girl watching him. She had an expectant glaze to her green eyes, which were much different from the shield that was covering his own. His pools were surrounded by a shadow of grief, pulling down the entirety of his face to the point where it looked as though he no longer wanted to live.

And that wasn’t entirely incorrect, he struggled at life, often never finding a moment of happiness, and if he did, then he would paint a smile upon his face and wear it to satisfy everyone else around. He had tried to cope with the loss that burdened his heart so gravely, yet nothing made it feel okay. You’d want him to move on, whether it be to lose his vengeful esteem concerning your passing, or find someone else to confide in late at night, to stay up with talking as his head rested upon the pillow, that he needed to wash, so it didn’t smell like you.

Or even, if not to share a bed with this new person, your overall plan as you sat with the angels above would be to find some kind of peace. But that appeared to be the last thing that he wanted as he digitally scoured the city of New York for monsters to uncover, and kill. If he couldn’t protect you, the love of his life, then he would settle for doing so with humans, after all, that had been the way that you had gone. The job had been your passion, yet simultaneously your downfall, and he’d be fine if one of these days he failed to tackle a beast, and it got to him first.

“Clary.” He greeted her, wanting to remove a dangerous monster from the streets by decapitating it. In memory, he would use your favourite blade, spilling blood upon its glowing stake to keep your legacy continuing, although, it did not do much but serve to release Jace’s frustrations. It was a day in which he wanted to speak to nobody, have nobody following him, nor asking him mundane questions about what it meant to be a shadowhunter. Hell, he didn’t even know! To him, the lifestyle was nothing more than accommodated anguish, though, he had been told not to promote it using those words, otherwise, there wouldn’t exactly be many people lining up to join the adverse fight.

And one of the people that he had in mind concerning excitement over a dire and ��exciting’ lifestyle was Clary. She was naive, and whilst she didn’t know everything, today wasn’t particularly the day in which he wished to explain it to her. It, being predominantly anything. Whilst he had managed to be nice to her during the first few days, it was out of courtesy, considering Alec had an instant distaste towards the wide eyed redhead; he wasn’t sure why, but he supposed that Clary could see a detail of himself that was hidden from the others.

However, even through Jace’s welcoming exterior, was in pain. The feeling tormented him, denying him a break from the patronising pressure, leaving him to hold blame to nobody but himself. The hurt was cemented into his eyes, reflecting as he watched all other tragedies with a stone cold expressions, them hardly affecting him, because he had and was experiencing the worst routine of torture that was possible to him. He had watched you die, and nothing could take those horrific memories from him, no matter how much he wanted them gone.

That was the last time that he saw you. When you passed in his arms, a large wound in your abdomen pouring out with blood, drowning his desperate hands as he tried his utmost to put pressure on the life threatening injury. He wanted to save you but he didn’t know how, his training had always claimed that killing the monsters was more important than saving the life of a shadowhunter from an unknown bloodline. There had been nothing to prepare him for that day in the field, he was a fighter, and taught to be so, not a healer; he wasn’t a medic, he was just a warrior. “What do you want?” Blatantly fell from his round lips as he cast an eye towards the newbie, unimpressed by her timing, or her presence at all.

Clearly, she hadn’t received the memo to leave him be, especially today out of all the rest. Alec, having the personalised intel as to why Jace was emitting a solitary rut understood why he wished to be alone, and respected the space, granting him as much time to himself as he wanted. And whilst Alec was your friend also, he could feel the deep longing that was stabbing his parabatai in the chest, and it killed him too. Your death had been so unexpected, and now without you, there was a void within the institute. And the archer felt as though Clary was trying to fill it, and he saw that as nothing more than disrespect, though she was probably ignorant to the history that wandered the halls.

Her face revelled back at his tone, but nevertheless she continued on with her prying. “I was wondering if I could join you on the hunt, I’m getting better, Izzy even said so.” Jace refrained from rolling his eyes, and contained the feeling that was trying to burst out of his chest. It was anger, directed at everyone that was still alive, including himself. There was no fairness in it, to say that he was sad was an understatement, he was eternally devastated, the death of you had broken him, crumbled him into a figure that he no longer recognised.

“No, you can’t Clary.” He dismissed her, walking away, and going to grab his seraph so that he could hunt this sucker down, and bring upon the same kind of pain to its family as its kind had down to him. God, did you look badass as you swung it, and the thought alone had tears resonating in his unmatched eyes, thinking of how it was the last relic that remained of you.

Walking casually into the armoury, Jace had his hands prized in the depths of his pockets, as his expert and quick fleeting eyes focalised on you, and the weapon within your hold. Your body leant in harmony with the blade, the sound of it woosh-img in the air satisfying to all that could hear; that being only you and the Wayland boy.

“Can i not train in peace?” You groaned, lowering the blade whence you realised that you were being watched. The eyes trailed up your side where your shirt had ridden up, raking over the rune that you had drew upon your skin only this morning. A light laugh fell from Jace’s lips as he stalked forward, taking your seraph out of your hand, and going to lob it upon the ground, but the stern look in your eyes stopped him. Instead, against his nature, he placed it down as though it were made of glass, and rose to stand before you once more.

“Not when you look that good.” The blonde retorted with a sly smirk, sliding his hands up the sides of your hips, finding absolute solace in the feel of your skin. He could be against you forever, and he would not complain, so long as it did last for such a time. “Makes me want to do things to you y/n y/l/n. Terrible things. What would the heads think?” He asked, in reference to those that were in charge of the institute.

Stifling down remarked laughter at his sensually intended words, you raised your forefinger to the space above his brows, and poked him with enough pressure, so that he would pay attention to the notion. “That you’re not thinking with your own.” You went to cross your arms, but instead, Jace grabbed them, moving down to cast his hand over your own.

“Oh, I’m not.” The shadowhunter confirmed, placing your hand upon the crotch of his sweats, applying enough force behind his grip so that you could feel him twitching. “I am indeed having thoughts from elsewhere, would you like to see my sweet?” Licking your lips, you nodded, watching as he peeled the layer away, wrapping your hand around his base, and giving him a few jerks, feeling his pulse race through his cock.

“Tell me more about what you’re thinking my love.” You bit your bottom lip, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, only to reverberate a groan from the blonde male. He panted as your pace quickened, and he was almost certain that he was going to spray his jizz all over the floor if you did not uphold your sexual administrations. His head leant back, as pleasured sounds broke through the clenching of his teeth.

And then, it all stopped as a voice, dressed in absolute disgust, written over with unmotivated shock, interrupted your little exchange. “Really guys, this is a gym, not your damned bedroom. The two of you really are disgusting!” It was Alec, and he cringed at the fact that he had seen his best friend’s cock being stroked in your grasp. Yeah, he wasn’t going to be training today, or at least, not in the asserted place for it.

“Clary.” Izzy called her name, wearing a short lived smile. Whence she studied the expression of the redhead, she was quick to pay attention to the disappointment upon her face. There was confusion laddered in her skin, masking it with creased that made her look worried all at the same time. “What happened?” The Lightwood woman asked concerned, bracing a hand upon said girl’s shoulder.

“Jace snapped at me.” The newcomer informed her, frowning at the prospect, and then after all that, he had stormed off, as though she didn’t even matter. She felt well and truly rejected, like a newspaper that had been tossed in the street, and ending up in a horrible puddle. “I thought he might have liked me, but his attitude says otherwise.”

Izzy twitched her nose; she knew what day it was. There was no way to break it to Clary easy that Jace had no amorous emotions towards her, and so instead of being blunt with the new resident at the institute, she decided to tell the woman a story. “There was a girl...” she began, knowing that after all was explained, that Clary would understand.

[husbandohunter]

Moments of Despair #1 [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: “The man who was on fire and realized it too late.”

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Albedo's despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death, graphic depictions of violence perhaps

(A/n): Had these ideas for a while after reading @/serensama To Mourn series of another fandom. So much sorrow and feeling I just was inspired to write 😫

_______________________________________________

The moment you fell lifeless in Diluc's arms, he wanted to disappear.

It was raining again, he had always despised the rain. How it trickles down the slope of your cheek, like tears falling from the heavens. The sight of it mixing with your blood creating a thin stream of red rivers flowing beside him. They patter down obnoxiously because time didn't care, the gods don't care, the world didn't care. You were just a small fragile person to their eyes but to him you were his light. A candle that used to shine in his dark world was now dissipitated by the waters of reality.

Many droplets have passed and he was still holding you. Diluc could do nothing but stare. He hadn't shed any tears nor could he make a coherent sound. Perhaps it was because his tears have long run out when his father was held in the very same way. Or it was because he was heartless. He's usually told for being cold and indifferent. But the pain clenching in his chest was proof that he still had one (proof that it was still beating), much to his dismay. It would be better if he didn't.

So why can't he just look away? Your wounds, your bruised features, everything now etched so deep into the back of his conciousness that is was starting to awaken his worst nightmares. They were the source of the bile growing in his stomach. The irony stench filling up his nostrils felt so sickening. He couldn't turn away. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead. As if reality had yet to register, or maybe he refused to accept it, Diluc helplessly gazed down your body with blank and empty eyes.

"Master Diluc..."

Jean's voice called out to him pitifully. He rises up with his back turned, ignoring the stares given to him, "Leave. The knights of favonius are not needed here."

"But she's a Mondstadt citizen," The anemo user retorts, slightly taken aback by his impassive reaction, "It's my responsibility to ensure this case doesn't go unnoticed."

Unnoticed. Diluc scoffs in his mind, what a tasteless joke.

"It seems you weren't listening," he announces as his head was turned ajar so they could see the deep hatred glowing red in his eyes, "Leave. Now."

Jean's lips trembled before barely being able to say, "Alright" and retreating her knights back to the city. Kaeya narrows his gaze at his bother, the sorrow was evident through his pupils. He steps forward until he was arms length away from his brother. Too little too late, another failure was added to the belt.

Kaeya was a man of many words but for once he was at loss of what to say. No underhanded suggestions, no ideas taunting him to spill his thoughts, he simply asks Diluc, "What are you planning to do now?"

Silence. Kaeya couldn't predict what sort of expression his brother was making as he looks at your corpse. It brought a heavy weight of unsettlement upon him and here he thought he had already grown used to his brother's quietness.

Slowly, he turns around while letting the water pour down his face. Kaeya tightens his jaw as Diluc drags his feet towards him, stopping when their shoulders were parallel, "It's none of your concern."

"You're just going to leave her here?"

There was a slight pause which was enough of an answer. The Cavalry Captain sighs when he watched him walk away, what was the point of asking when Kaeya knew Diluc so well? He glances at your form before swiftly shutting his eyes.

It was his concern.

-------

A week later, the staff of the Ragnvindr household could hardly recognize their Master's appearance. They knew not to bother him when he decides to lock himself in his chambers. Diluc drowns himself with work from hours to no end as he connects the findings of the person that took your life. As expected, it was one of his enemies- a fatui member. The question was, which one?

"Master Diluc, I beg of you, please take care of yourself," Elzer pleads.

The pyro user didn't bother to spare him a glance or look at the tray of food he carried.

Food...you always brought them whenever he had to work overtime.

"I do not remember specifiying anyone to be allowed in my office," he voices aloud, "If it's related to business affairs simply leave that with Adelinde and I'll take a look at it tomorrow."

"I understand. But you've been working all day and night yet refusing to take any breaks in between. At this rate, you'll harm your health."

The feather pen in his grip kept dragging it's course, "This is beyond the duties assigned to you Elzer."

"That's because it was a request sent by your father," he adds, knowing that stepping over his boundaries may cost him, "If Master Crepus was still here, I'm sure he would have said the same thing."

Taking a deep breath, Elzer lays out his last card, "And also your wife."

The pen slows into a halt.

No one had brought you up until now. Elzer anxiously watches his Master shifting in his seat, his red bangs covering half of his face but he could still see the frown pressing firmly on his lips. It wouldn't be a surprise if Diluc suddenly bursted at him for mentioning such a sensitive topic, all that matters was his master's well being and Elzer was willing to risk everything for it. But nothing. Diluc turns his attention ever so slightly at the tray he carried.

"Fine, but I'm not eating that."

"What? Wasn't this was her favourite-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Elzer furrows his brows before sighing, "...No, Master Diluc."

He exits the room while carrying the fresh dish of Once Upon A Mondstadt that you loved so much. The door closes with a soft click and he was alone again.

People found it strange how Diluc seemed so vacant to your passing. He didn't even show up at your funeral. Instead, he continues his duties as a Mondstadt nobleman like usual while taking care of business matters associated with the winery. Except those who were close to him could see the difference in his actions. Apathy, he was so mechanical in every task he did. Like a marionette attatched on strings, a doll without a soul. After all, his soul died the moment when yours did too. What remains was a shadow of Diluc and a being existing solely for revenge and duty. He was nothing but a remnant.

Fatigue begins to wash over him and he fights to stay awake. Because once he gives in it will all be over. Once he closes his eyes, he would see your face with a multitude of images from the past. He would hear your voice calling out his name from a distant space as it echoes off the walls of his mind. He would fall into a dream where you were still with him and as always, waking up to see that it was never real.

I should have pushed you away.

Because what hurt Diluc the most wasn't that you were gone, rather, it was how you were still here.

Then you'd still be-

Something breaks and it turned out to be the pen he was holding so tightly. Only now Diluc realized how fast his heart was thrumming as beads of sweat began rolling down his forehead. Focus. Don't waste time. He won't grant himself the liberty of anything when your murderer was still on the run. Every wound they inflicted on you was going to be returned in tenfold. He'll make sure of it. That's why, he refuses to think about you at all. Diluc occupies his mind with other matters since at this point, work was the only efficient method of keeping his sanity in tact.

She needs you to focus.

The door opens and Kaeya enters the room while holding a document, "We found the guy."

His reaction was immediate, "Where?"

"Hm, now that we meet, it's actually quite debateable," The captain notes wryly, "When was the last time you've gotten proper rest?"

"I don't have time for this, either you tell me or I'll do it by force."

Kaeya couldn't help but sigh, "Apologies but you don't seem to be in any state for a fight. I'm sure you know how it would end up if you were to face your enemy right now."

"..."

"Diluc, this isn't healthy," Kaeya asserts, it's been a while since he sounded so sincere, "I'm not here to prevent you from doing what's necessary however, perhaps it would be better if I finished it in your stead."

"No," Diluc stubbornly answers, "Hand that over."

"...Heh, then there's really nothing I can do to stop you it seems," he whispers with a sad smile, "At the very least, be careful."

"I intend to," The pyro user snatches the paper parchment out of Kaeya's hands before opening the window, "Also, if Elzer returns, tell him there's a few errands I have to take care of."

The night was a full moon and the sky was empty, Diluc leaps off the edge and disappears into the darkness. There was no telling of what could happen next. Since you weren't here, it was up to Kaeya to watch over him.

-------

The claymore dropped to the ground with a clang as it soaks up the blood of the fatui he just killed.

Diluc was tired, so tired.

He slumps down against the wall from pure exhaustion, all that adrenaline and hatred went up in fumes, leaving behind whatever was left in his heart: nothing. Two hours, not even that far from Mondstadt, the fatui hid in an abandoned building as he cowarded for his life. When Diluc arrived, he never expected this monster to be so weak. This was the person who murdered you? A pathetic nobody that was simply following orders? This was the reason why he lost you forever?

In the end, the only one to blame was himself, for being weak and unable to protect you. He was supposed to be your hero ("Darknight hero," you'd always tease), the rock that shields you just as you had been the warmth he longed for many years, did he give you enough? Was this enough? He thought avenging your death would grant him a peace of mind and the justice you deserved but deep down, he knew it will never be enough when it comes to his love for you.

"Diluc."

He closes his eyes, he hears your voice. He was so tired, it wouldn't be a surprise if he started hallucinating.

"Diluc."

"I'm sorry..."

The man lets out a trembled breath as he apologized to the image of you in his mind. I'm sorry I failed you. They were repeated like a mantra in hopes to reach you somehow. Of course that was impossible, his feelings, his emotions, love and sorrow altogether will never reach you again. And your arms that once comforted him and brushed his hair with a soothing voice, saying everything will be okay, where are they now?

"Diluc."

"Stop," he didn't want to hear your voice.

"Diluc, I'm here."

"Stop..."

"Diluc..."

He jolts his eyes open and lets out a yell, what was he saying? He doesn't know. All he needed now was to drown out the fake voices mocking in his head. Diluc grabs the nearest object and shatters it against the floor, the dam was broken and it flooded uncontrollably, breaking everything in it's way. The abandoned house was filled with loud cries of a man sobbing with agony like a broken-hearted child. He crumbles to his knees and falls to his side, lifting his forearms while clutching his face.

And screamed.

Archons, what did he do to deserve this? Why do the people he cherish get taken away from him? Diluc never wanted to be the Darknight hero if it meant having his father perish in his arms. He didn't want the feeling of stabs against his chest with every breath he took. He didn't want to feel cold while knowing it was because you weren't here to hold him. He didn't want your voice, your pictures or your memory.

He wanted you.

"(Y/n)..." he chokes. Rolling to his back, Diluc moves his arms to cover his eyes, letting the tears run down to his ears, "(Y/n)..."

For who knows how long, he lays there in the abandoned building and mourns. Diluc doesn't have the strength to move from his position, he found himself staring mindlessly through the cracks of the roof when his voice had gone hoarse. The corners of his eyes still burned and his head was throbbing with so much pain. Maybe he should just stay here but the thought of being in the same room as your murderer was unfathomable.

Picking up his claymore once again, Diluc drags himself out of the door. Where would he go? It's not like he had a home to return to because home was when he was with you. A doll without a soul, the marionette moves as if the strings have commanded him to do so. Where ever it takes him, he didn't care. He just knew he had to go.

[spice-chan]

Legally Incapsulated

yandere!Bakugou Katsuki x darling!reader

In a different, dystopian world, yanderes are allowed to run rampant and they make up 15 percent of the population. It gets a little interesting when Bakugou, a protective yandere falls for you, a taken darling. 

warnings: dystopian society (ig?), yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, reader has a bit of an early stockholm syndrome kinda thing, blood and near death, captivity. 

also hi, i came back from the undead with an update. 

.........

Bakugou laid on the ground, bleeding profusely, cold and alone. The red liquid soaked through his clothes, painting him as an ugly manifestation of destruction and death. However, he did not welcome the latter yet, clinging to-hanging tooth and nail to the threads of life.

What cruel irony. To be dumped somewhere so public, yet at a time when no one would bother to come. To have the Hero hanging onto the hope that someone would visit the park at three in the fucking morning. 

A brutal fight between him and a particularly vicious villain ended in Katsuki suffering not only the humiliation of defeat but injuries that will do him in soon enough from blood loss. All alone, with no back-up, Katsuki suffered possibly the worst defeat of his life, for it might cost him that very same thing. Fucker attacked him after he finished his night shift too when no reporters or anyone would be around, knocking Katsuki out and dumping him in a public park just for the mockery of it. 

His head felt light and doozy, and he was starting to succumb to the feeling sucking him in when he heard a gasp amidst the fog. 

With what little stamina he has left, he turned around, sharp red eyes spotting a petite woman heading towards him. 

You quickly got to his spot beneath a tree, crouching down and inspecting him, your warm eyes becoming horrified at the blood pool. 

“Oh no, what happened here?! No matter. I’m going to call an ambulance. You’re going to be ok.” You reassured, or tried to, for the words coming out of your mouth could only be taken as self-assurance when one notices the dampness of your eyes. He tried to concentrate on what you were doing, but the next time he was aware of what was happening around him was when you clutched his hand tight with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna be ok.” 

He sure hopes he will be now. 

“What’s your name?” 

Despite the haze covering, his red eyes zeroed on you, calmly taking you in despite the battered state he was in. You froze. 

You stammered, heart hammering as you finally had another person's attention for once. It should’ve made you really ecstatic, but it just made you feel like you were naked on live TV. 

“It’s um-“ you nibbled on your lip as if unused to your name, Katsuki just got lost in the dainty, delicate sound of your voice. 

And when you said your name, as if testing foreign words on your tongue for the first time, he couldn’t help but think it suited you. 

So pretty. 

Honestly, if the sight of you is the only thing he’ll see before dying, he’ll be content. Your hand remained in hold his, your warmth travelling to his frigid hand and warming his very soul. 

But the sound of ambulance sirens broke him out of his trance, and you too, it seems. For you broke away from him in fright, he had to hold back from grabbing you and keeping you close. He would, had he not been injured. 

“Whe-where are you going?” He asked brokenly, desperate to keep the angel that saved him close. You shook your head, frightened and frantic. Looking at the time, and seemingly getting further and further. 

“I’m sorry-I—I’ve got to go. I’m gonna late, I’ll get punished if I’m late.” 

His heart sunk with every syllable you uttered, feeling a pain he had never felt before, something not tangible enough to be compared to injuries and not comprehensible enough for a man like Katsuki to express. 

You’re a darling. 

You’re someone’s darling.

By the time the ambulance rolled in and took him, you were long gone…

But not for long. 

……………...

Katsuki Bakugo: Yandere. 

Classification: Protective

Darling: Unregistered 

In a world where yanderes are allowed to go rampant with their love, an ordinary citizen doesn’t know when they’ll become trapped by a person who claims to ‘love them unconditionally’. Thus making them a darling. And from the moment that label is put on them, the law ceases to help them and they become entirely at their yandere's mercy. 

Yanderes are often separated into their schools and housed in their specified yandere classification ranging from obsessive, possessive and protective, and if a person overlaps two during their classification test they get reign into which house to go to. At UA, the houses are split between those three types and are equally split. 

Katsuki, who scored rather high in both protective and obsessive traits, chose to go with the protective unit where he met Kirishima, who’s currently blabbering on about nothing in Katsuki’s hospital room. 

“You barely made it man, I still can’t believe it. One can never be too careful these days.” He said, for the hundredth time. Katsuki was topless, the nurse having just finished bandaging his wounds. The stark white stood out against his chiseled, muscular front, it had every nurse swooning but he only had one thing on his mind. 

You. 

Where were you? Who were you? Did you really have a yandere? How can he take you away now? 

No, he doesn’t like you. He’s just curious. 

He’s survived this long without a darling. He doesn’t need one, contrary to popular societal belief. 

When babies are three, they undergo tests and scans to see whether they have OLD, obsessive love disorder, which is something about 15 percent of the population suffers from. 

They go to their own schools and such, but their identity as yanderes won’t be revealed to the general public, making it easy for yanderes to take their darlings by surprise when the grand reveal comes. 

Katsuki himself attended a yandere oriented hero school, but what the public doesn’t know is that the acceptance rate is so low because only yanderes are accepted. Yanderes rarely, but not never, go for other yanderes so it poses as less of a distraction. 

And so, the talented in the 15 percent of Japanese yandere are carefully picked and honed. 

And the separation only proves something. That darlings are a distraction. He won’t be like other wanderers, he’ll get a hold of himself. 

…………..

Y/N L/N: Darling

Under yandere of classification: Obsessive

Yandere name: Nagisa Mura

Katsuki ground his teeth, red orbs staring viciously at his computer screen. Hypothesizing and being faced with the fact that you do belong to someone else. The distraction, unneeded angel who fell from heaven just to save him. 

Poor you, he bets that piece of shit doesn’t treat you as good as he could. 

After looking further into you, he found several allegations of sexual assault made towards Mura that got completely dropped after he captured you. 

A flash of searing pain made Katsuki jerk back, narrowly missing scorching his screen to smithereens. 

He...he hurt you. The fucker hurt his angel, his princess...he hurt you, he hurt you, he hurt you. 

He thought of your pretty, kissable lips, making unsure, clumsy movements as you tried to vocalise your name. 

No, Katsuki has to have you. He needs to save you. It’s the only way for both of you to be happy at this point. 

And this, spurred on a thorough check at your yandere, and Katsuki delved so deep that when he found what he wanted, he couldn’t help but break out into a lopsided, sinister grin. 

………………

Nagisa burrowed his face in your neck, breathing in your scent while you sat still and rigid, not wanting to move away and risk his sanity flying away. 

“Did you enjoy it?” He asked softly, suddenly attentively look at you with his cat-like, loving, sick eyes. Your heart palpitated in fear for a second before you nodded. 

“Oh, where did you go? You...didn’t talk to anyone right?” Your heart erratically hammered, thinking that he might’ve somehow found out you did, and even told him your name. You shook your head at the speed of a sewing machine, then thought that might’ve perhaps been too aggressive to be convincing. 

“I didn’t. I walked to the park and came back home.” 

He sighed in satisfaction at that, moving his dark bangs back to stare at you with his green hues. 

“I knew night time was a better idea. There would be no one around at this time that you can’t deal with with pepper spray. Fewer people to talk to, fewer people who see you” he was smiling, not breaking eye contact once, and with each syllable, his soft voice seemed to get more sinister and sinister. 

You only nodded, pliant as a lamb in his grip as he twisted you however he wished. He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling the scent of you as if smelling a rare fragrant flower. 

“We’ve gotten so far since the days in the orphanage when you refused to share your dolls with me when we were five.” 

Memories. Something that should fill one with nostalgia, only filled you with an unbearable sense longing to a freer, more easy time. When you only had to worry about Nagisa bothering you during breakfast, lunchtime, movie time, sometimes worship time and wash time. 

Desperate for a sense of normalcy, you hugged him back, feeling icy cold in his embrace. 

“Nagi, what are we having for dinner?” A twinge of regret pierced you as you lowered your guard for a second. His hold became stiff, and he didn’t bother to swipe back his bangs as he flashed you a blank face. 

“You’re thinking about dinner while we hug?” 

But you knew how to deal with him better by now, deflecting his anger and turning it into something more malleable. 

“Oh no, it’s just that I feel a little dizzy. I don’t think I ate or drank well those past few days.” You paired the lie with a yawn for extra measure, and the ice of his face melted to reveal a familiar worried expression pouted lips and widened greeny eyes. 

He carefully put you down, bundling you in a blanket before he rushed to the kitchen to prepare you some food. 

The worry he harboured for your well being should’ve filled you with warmth, but instead, you were left twiddling your thumbs and rocking yourself back and forth, an unexplainable feeling of doom filled you. 

The feeling of a hand touching you caused you to spring out of your reverie in fright, but the sight of the green hues staring back at you only calmed you a fraction. He put the food in front of you, which he brought back with some vitamins because he can’t have you getting sick. 

“Thank you…” you murmured, feeling incredibly stupid and useless. 

He insisted he feed you and that you go to bed early. 

But as you laid in bed, thoughts of strange red irises and their bewitching beholder swarmed your thoughts along with the fatigue. You hope he’s alright… 

You wanted to check on him, but if you asked or even implied to Nagisa that you met someone, let alone a man albeit injured or not, that he will opt to not let you out for a year again, or possibly longer this time. 

Even in his injured form, there was something undeniably feral about him, as if ready to pounce any second and gamble his chances at life if the situation called for it. It frightened you. 

You shook your head, willing comfort to return to you through the soft duvet and sheets enveloping your body. You better sleep before Nagisa comes to bed and finds you awake…

…….

Finally, Bakugou has the best reason to get that fuck arrested. And you? Poor you, you’re going to have your yandere taken away, and you can’t *just* be let free. You didn’t earn it after all. Well, you would have, had there not being a perfectly suitable yandere for you to be rehomed with. 

Heh, to think of it, you might hate him a little for this...but he’ll show you that he can treat you better, in no time, you’ll be wrapped around his finger like he’s shamefully wrapped around yours. 

Bakugou’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt when the L-word is mentioned, not noticing when his thoughts spiralled to that degree. His deranged obsession with you had been planted the moment you saved him, but Katsuki didn’t notice when he lost the wheel of his rationality to his heart. 

Yeah, sure, he did background checks on you, felt a twinge of pain when he realised you grew up in an orphanage, felt a tornado of anger when he saw the assault charges that went nowhere after that obsessive fuck captured you. Yeah, ok, he felt proud when he saw that you were the valedictorian. But… where did the stone hearted Katsuki go? Where did the one who was afraid of getting close to anyone in case his true nature shows and distracts him from his dream go? 

But then, he remembered your glassy eyes, staring at him in worry that no one ever showed towards him before, fumbling with his phone to dial the ambulance while holding his hand. Telling him he’ll be ok. 

The moment Bakugo looked in the mirror, he knew he lost. 

His cheeks were flaming hot. 

Whatever, he better start preparing your room. 

…….

It felt like preparing the room of a newborn baby, Katsuki bought enough stuffed animals and plushies to make it resemble a fluffy asylum, along with pastel pink sheets. Your name was also put on the wall, with cursive pink letters that had butterflies surrounding them.

Not to forget a dresser filled with all kinds of things you could ever desire. But his favourite was filling the closet. 

Besides adding some of his own shirts, he stuffed it with all kinds of pretty dresser and cute clothes that he can’t wait to see you wear. 

Bakugo dusted his hands, taking a sigh and looking at the finished guestroom, previously a spare but now your own room, it looked as if a sparkly fairy vomited all over it. Hopefully you’ll like it… 

He wishes you were here to see it… 

An unfamiliar sense of isolation invaded his heart, perhaps it was the realisation that he just finished a room to a person who doesn’t even live with him *yet*, or knowing what he’s missing out on with you, but he knew he desperately wanted you here. 

He wanted to protect you from the bastard who has you in his clutches

…….. 

A day later

You sat on the sofa, munching on some popcorn while you sat on Nagisa’s lap, watching anime. 

A rough knock sounded out, the sound so aggressive is sounded as if the wood itself was gonna break under the aggressive force. Nagisa tensed up, he wasn’t expecting any guests, in fact, he rarely invites anyone over. He disassociated the both of you from any acquaintances from the orphanage, and you weren’t allowed to mingle with anyone. 

He saw your curious look, even without any verbal question, but he opted to simply kiss your forehead and put you on the sofa. 

He quickly went to answer the door, but not without grabbing a dagger and hiding it somewhere discreet. 

He turned the knob, feeling his chest tighten painfully, as if sensing a near, imminent loss. 

Three aggressive, toned cops welcomed his sight as soon as the door was open. They forced their way inside, cuffing him and telling him things, words that were spoken too fast and went over his head as the only thought that went through his head aas you. 

He turned around to where he left you, but you were suddenly standing besides one of the officers, not allowed near him. No…

“According to our database, you are a yandere who has a darling. This means that she will be permanently taken away from you and handed to an eligible yandere as part of your punishment.” 

He swallowed, his gaze, which always seemed morbid to you, now looked panicked and morose, gaze moving like a boomerang between you and the officers, as if not processing what’s happening. 

“Nagisa, what have you done?” He couldn’t answer you, he couldn’t speak a word. You were leaving him, and there’s nothing that he can do. 

“Eligible yandere? But as far as I know, there’s no one after her besides me.” The thought comforted him. Maybe he’ll recapture you after he serves whatever sentence he has, even though he’ll have to do it on the down low now. It’s illegal for a yandere who had their darling taken away to go after them again. 

“Well you thought wrong. Scum” 

Bakugou felt like the star of the show, coming in to rescue his damsel and finish his quest, with you as the prize. 

Your mouth was agape, the little hope that simmered in you that you might possibly be free is now crushed, confusion coming full force in place of it. His face was all too familiar, it was the face of the man you found on death's door only a few days ago. 

Nagisa’s face blanked, turning to you with bloody accusations in his eyes, which made your vision narrow to only focus on him, afraid to make eye contact yet afraid not to. You almost felt the bile rise up your stomach as goosebumps covered your entire body at his familiar, haunting stare. 

“(Y/n)...how does he know you?” 

“I-“ you swallowed, unable to answer. Who is he? 

The dots were starting to connect in Nagisa’s head, however, instead of his chilling rage, all you got was a sad, nostalgic smile. 

“Very well (y/n), it’s ok.” You couldn’t feel relieved from his ambiguous tone. Your very gut screaming at you that something was wrong. 

And your gut was right. 

“It’s ok, I know you didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I’m sure of it but I’m sorry because if I can’t have you then nobody can.” In the blink of an eye, Nagisa charged at you with a dagger, with speed you didn’t know he possessed, while you were frozen in place in fear. 

However, before he could reach you, the blond, brawny man moved like the wind, catching the hand that threatened you, firing an explosion at the wrist in a show of wrath, probably giving Nagisa third degree burns, then twisting his arms behind his back and pushing him harshly into the floor. The level of strength between them was visibly imbalanced to the blondes' favour, Nagisa was by no means fit or sturdy, not at all when compared to the wall of strength in front of you. 

The officers, novices who should have expected this turn of events by all means, have proven to be useless until the very end of this spectacle, thanking the blond the blond profusely while handcuffing the hysterical Nagisa, who was taken kicking and screaming by one of the officers while one stayed behind. 

“Miss (y/n), I believe? Sorry we couldn’t prevent this unsavoury turn of events, that criminal will be locked for good, you don’t have to worry about him.” The officer tried to reassure the frightened lady in front of him, disappointed that a yandere would try to kill the person he loves. That was one of the most prohibited laws, though what can he expect from a criminal? 

“You don’t have to worry about your safety though, as it turns out, you will be rehomed with Mr Dynamight. This will serve as both a punishment for the offending yandere and a way for darlings who haven’t earned their freedom to stay with their next eligible caretaker.” 

You nodded shily, overwhelmed by the influx of information directed at you. It didn’t help that you barely spoke to anyone besides Nagisa in years. 

The officer took your agreeableness in stride, scramming quickly as he physically felt the burn of Bakugou’s stare. 

Now it was just him and you. 

“You ok?” He managed to mutter, not sure how to start a conversation with you now that he had you. 

You nodded, not facing him. Are you ok? 

You felt the moisture gathering in your eyes, making your eyes seem like gleaming crystals. 

Of course you weren’t ok. 

You just had the person who, for years, claimed they loved you, stole you against your will and forced you to adapt to a lifestyle that suited them try to kill you. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but apparently your body did as it broke into a sob. 

Your shoulders shook in failing effort to try to hide yourself from him-Mr Dynamight or something, but he felt his heart clench when he heard you sniffle. 

You heard him kiss his teeth, and you had a half mind to apologise, having unfond memories of the sound, but he instead, to your surprise, brought his beefy arms around you and embraced you warmly. 

Your crying halted, head turning up to fave him with a ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look in your eyes, making him blush and turn away from you with another kiss of his teeth. 

“Stop crying.” 

Why did his simple gesture stop your tears? Why are you not trying to make a run for it? 

Most importantly, why do you feel something warm blooming in your chest instead of hate? 

You looked at him, trying to channel all the hate you harbored for Nagisa for this newfound captor of yours, but all you could think about is when he saved you from Nagisa’s sharp blade— how strong and capable he was, really, shouldn’t you be thankful? 

At that moment, you experienced something that never happened to you in your years of being with Nagisa. 

You blushed. 

……

 You stepped through Bakugou’s house, already having an idea of what kind of lavish place it is from the exterior, but you were nevertheless impressed. 

The place is something out of a movie, extremely different to the small and cozy apartment you lived in. Everything seemed up to date and costly. 

You didn’t notice Bakugou preening in pride at the impressed look on your face. He tried to appear nonchalant, but he was seconds away from grabbing your hand in excitement as he tours you around the place. 

Still, he wanted some form of contact with you, so he opted to put a hand behind your back, excusing it as you being too slow when you turned to him with a quizzical look. 

His hand felt warm on your back. 

“This is the bathroom nearest to your room, but there’s one in your room as well.” 

Your room. It felt strangely delighting to have something be your own, when previously everything was ours with Nagisa. Everything was happening so quickly, you didn’t know whether you should try to pause to catch your breath or pick up your pace. 

“And uh, this is your room.” This time you did notice Bakugou’s redness, it was quite hard not to when his entire face was red. Of course it would be. 

The room looked like it was something out of a barbie house. Soft, pastel rugs paired with baby pink curtains. Plush, stuffed dolls littered the place, some small and some big enough to engulf you. You slowly stepped inside, unsure how to feel about this interior, until you felt your bed. It was also a gentle pink, but the catch was how featherlight soft it was, it felt silky, and the mattress reminded you of when you’d dream of sleeping on a cloud. 

“Like it?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your blessed face. That’s the first he’s seen this expression on you. He feels almost cheated, like he would have seen way more of you and learnt way more than he already knows if that piece of shit let you out. 

You hummed to him in response. 

“Good, ‘cuz it’s your nap time now.” 

“Huh?” You straightened your back, looking at him in protest. 

“But, I still have things to ask you! Plus, I don’t need a freaking nap-“ 

“Sleep now, questions later.” 

The sun was starting to dip, giving the room a warm, orange glow which did make you feel somewhat lethargic. Bakugou closed the curtains, and shut the door, but surprisingly didn’t leave your room. He pulled the covers back, gesturing for you to slip under. You were afraid for a moment that he was gonna slither his way inside as well, uninvited. But he merely sat besides your supine form. 

“Um-?” 

“I’m gonna stay here ‘till you fall asleep.” You nodded mutely, not finding a point to objecting anymore. You never have a say anyways. But, this wasn’t so bad. He put his large hand on your head, caressing it and admiring its texture, and how amazing it feels beneath his fingers. You felt his touch to be invasive at first. Who does he think he is, touching you when you don’t even know him?

But you don’t speak. You instead relax and let the stress you built up melt away, and you welcome sleep. 

…..

Your eyes slowly fluttered open to the feeling of someone lately shaking you. You were disoriented, glancing around the fluffy place in confusion, your eyes looking adorably lost and confused. 

“C’mon dumbass. It’s time for dinner.” 

Oh, right, you were living with him now. 

“I put the clothes you’re gonna wear on your bed, and here are your slippers.” You glanced on the bed, seeing a comfy looking white, silky pyjama dress slippers at the foot of your bed. 

“Ok.” You nodded, “I got it.” 

He gave you one final final intense look leaving your bedroom. 

…….

In the dining room, Bakugou had already set everything up. He made your favourite food, lit up some candles and sat down, anxious glancing at the door and waiting for you to appear. Will you like it? Will you ask him questions? Do you enjoy living with him so far? 

If the answer to some of those questions is no, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He does know that you aren’t going anywhere though. 

You quietly walked in, feeling the tension increase with each step you took. 

You spied the contents on the table, salivating at the smell of your favourite food like a starved ogre, not even bothering to grimace at the memory of Nagisa’s poor attempt at making it. 

Bakugou was salivating as well, but for different reasons. He couldn’t look away from your exposed skin, staring creepily as if he’s never seen a leg before. 

The meal was consumed with awkwardness, neither party breaking the ice. You were afraid of confrontation, of asking too many questions and receiving nothing but anger and resentment in return. He seems so much nicer than Nagisa, you didn’t want him to hate you. 

The silence reigned, and the dishes were cleared away and being washed by Bakugou, who insisted you stay near him but also insisted you stay unoccupied. 

Every moment that passed felt like a moment lost, and you kept summoning your courage, but the words just wouldn’t leave your mouth. Maybe you should build up to what you really wanted to ask instead of jumping straight to it. 

You saw his red eyes sneakily glancing at you, rapidly leaving your form when you noticed him, causing his ears and face to flush. 

“So um, what do you do?” he quirked an eyebrow, looking at you strangely while his movements didn’t pause. 

“You-you don’t know?!” he exploded, looking at you in disbelief. You just shook your head like a deer caught in headlights. 

Oh, that shit must’ve not let you watch TV much. 

“I’m a pro hero.” 

Your eyes widened in wonder, the decadence of the place suddenly making sense. 

“Cool! What’s your quirk?” he ditched the dishes, excitedly showing you his quirk and explaining how it works, delighted at your cute smile and interest in him. The air felt charged and lively, and maybe that’s what led you to ask the questions that have being nagging at you. 

“So um, how did you-uh, how did you even find out anything about me?” 

Your heart dropped when you saw the excitement on his face disappear, his usual scowl in place of it. 

“You told me your name, that’s all I needed to know. I never stopped thinking about you ever since I saw you, I tried but I couldn’t. If even someone as strong as me can end up on death's door, then what would happen to you? I couldn’t just leave you.” At this point, he was caressing your face, looking at you with love stricken eyes. You were reminded of who you were talking to, you were talking to a Protective yandere, who took you. 

You didn’t have to ask anything else really, pandora’s box opened, and everything you weren’t previously privy to is now made obvious to you. 

“It sickened me though, knowing you actually fucking belonged to someone else. So how could I leave you? I had to save you like you saved me.” he had both of his huge hands on your face, looking at you with pure insanity, love, adoration and bloodthirst swirling and mixing in his irises. He was a yandere, he was the person every ordinary person should fear, he has you in his clutches, you should be trying to escape and regain your freedom, you saw first hand how easily capable of hurting you he could be if he wanted… So why weren’t you scared?

[creoterative]

Incorrect Pokémon Quotes

Hello, I’m back with some Incorrect Quotes of Paul, Reggie and Maylene. I love them and they deserve some more fan content, soooo, here it goes!

Warnings: A lot of swearing

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*Reggie and Paul are doing something absurdly dangerous* Reggie: I think Houdini did something like this once! Why, if I recall correctly, he was out of the hospital in no time! Paul, deadpan: Well that's encouraging.

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Reggie: Hey, it's your turn to wash dishes. Paul: I'LL WASH THE WALLS RED WITH YOUR BLOOD. Reggie: 'Kay, but before that, wash the dishes, also use soap this time?

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Reggie: This is such a bad idea. Paul: Then why are you coming along? Reggie: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

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Reggie: Jail is no fun. I’ll tell you that much. Paul: Oh, you’ve been? Reggie: Once. In Monopoly.

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Paul: What the fuck is wrong with you?! Reggie: Wow, you could start with a 'good morning'. Paul: Good morning. What the fuck is wrong with you?!

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Reggie: English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though. Paul: You need to stop.

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Reggie: Paul, stop! This isn't you, you've gone mad with power! Paul: Well of course I have. Paul: Have you ever tried going mad without power? Paul: It's boring.

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Reggie: Pick a card, any card. Paul: Fine. Reggie: Wait, that's my credit card! Paul: You said any card.

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Paul: I feel like I have died and gone to heaven. Reggie: I have that dream, too, but you go in the other direction.

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Reggie: Oooh, a train! Paul: We’re in a train station, Reggie

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Reggie: Paul, what is the ONE thing I asked you NOT to do tonight? Paul: Raise the dead. Reggie: And what did you do? Paul: Raise the dead.

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Paul: I desire moisture. Reggie: Please just say "I want water" like a normal person.

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Paul: What goes up but never comes down? Reggie: The amount of stress you're bringing this family.

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Reggie: Why aren’t you sleeping? Paul: I’m too busy plotting your murder to sleep, Reggie. Reggie: Paul: ...The nightmares. Reggie: *wrapping his arms around Paul* Awwww, my fluffy bro-

----

Reggie: Are you mad? Paul: No. Reggie: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

----

Paul: My only talent is being stress. Reggie: Don't you mean stressed? Paul: No.

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Paul: Punch me in the face. Reggie: ...Punch you? Paul: Yes, punch me, didn’t you hear me? Reggie: I always hear ‘punch me in the face’ while you’re speaking but it’s usually just subtext.

----

Paul: How do tall people possibly sleep at night when the blanket can't possibly cover you? Reggie: Paul, it's four o'clock in the morning. Paul: So, you can't sleep, huh? Is it because of the blanket?

----

Paul: Hey. Reggie: Hey? Paul: I can't sleep. :/ Reggie: I can. Goodnight.

----

Reggie: Fight me! Paul, standing behind him and holding a knife: *mouths* Do not.

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Reggie: We need a plan to beat them. Paul: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food. Reggie: Paul: Judge me all you want, I get results.

----

Paul: Why are you drinking? Reggie: I drink when I'm depressed. Paul: But you're always drinking? Reggie: *smug grin*

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Reggie: They say that the most valuable things cost nothing. Paul: They also say that being cheap is an annoying trait, so don’t overuse that excuse.

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Paul: You’re charged with…..breaking into a pet store? Reggie: I thought the animals might be lonely.

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Paul: How does that even work? Reggie, mocking him: hOw dO yOu UsE a cOmPUteR aNd KnOw wHaTS GoiNg oN iT DoEsNt mAke SeNSe?! Paul: Your face doesnt make sense.

----

Reggie: Are you reading fan fiction? Paul, reading an article about extremely rare diseases: Wh- No. Reggie: Oh, is it on AO3? Paul: This is CNN.

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Reggie: If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're impressed. Paul: But you do know better.

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Paul: Do you take constructive criticism? Reggie: Not without crying

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Paul, at Reggie's funeral: I need a moment with him. Everyone: Of course. *They leave* Paul, leaning over Reggie′s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead. Reggie: Yeah, no shit.

----

Paul: Please say words of encouragement to me so I don’t murder someone right now. Reggie: There are no books in prison. Paul: *sighs* Thank you.

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Paul: A decision had to be made. Reggie: And you fucked it up!

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Paul: *coughs blood* Reggie: Don't die, Paul! Paul: Don't tell me what to do!

----

Reggie: *dangling from a rope over a pit of fire* Remember when I said I’d tell you when we’re in too deep? Paul: Yes? Reggie: We’re in too deep.

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Reggie: Who hurt you? Paul: *snorting* What, do you want a list? Reggie: ...Yes, actually.

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Paul: *raises eyebrows* Reggie: Put those back down!

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Paul: I'll offer you some friendly advice- Reggie: I don't want your advice. Paul: Well, then consider it unfriendly advice.

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Reggie: Paul! Have you no dignity? Paul: Of course not! How long have we known eachother?

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Reggie: I am a responsible adult! Paul: *raises brow* Reggie: I am an adult.

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Reggie: Just so everyone knows, don't ever try to climb a tree at night carrying a strobe light, Rowlets DON'T like it. Paul: ...what happened? Reggie: I made a VERY bad mistake.

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Paul: Can I bother you for a second? Reggie: You're always bothering me, but go ahead.

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Paul: You know what I’ve realized? Reggie: Some thoughts are better left unsaid? Paul: Nice try, anyways-

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Reggie: You remind me of the ocean. Paul: Because I'm deep and mysterious? Reggie: No, because you're full of salt and you scare people.

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Reggie: I need a long word. Paul: T-rex but the long one.

----

Reggie: Do you know the ABCs of first aid? Paul: A. Bone. Coming out of the skin is very bad.

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*Reggie and Paul skipping stones on lake* Reggie: It’s such a beautiful evening. Paul, whispering: Take that you fucking lake

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Reggie: Is the pink panther a lion? Paul: Say that again but slower. Reggie: I don’t get it. Paul: He’s a PANTHER. Reggie: Is that a type of lion? Paul: No, it’s a fucking panther. Reggie: *googles panther* They aren’t pink? Paul: AND LIONS ARE?!

----

Paul: Wait you like me? For my personality? Reggie: I know, I was surprised too.

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Reggie: If I die, you can have what little I own. Paul: Wait. What do you mean "if" you die? Reggie: My unending existence is fuelled by pure spite, that of which the painful experiences of life have rendered me full. Paul: Paul: *Sighs* Let me call your therapist again.

----

Reggie: Be careful about succumbing to these sorts of destructive... urges. Addiction can be a powerful thing. Paul: So am I. Bow down before your new supreme overlord, bitches.

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Reggie: I actually have a black belt. Paul: In what, karate? Reggie: No, from Gucci.

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Paul, holding a kettle: Coffee or tea? Reggie: Tea. Paul: Wrong. It's coffee.

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Paul: Look, Reggie, it's the third time this week you had a mental breakdown and its Monday.

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Reggie: Could you be anymore annoying? Paul: Yes.

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Paul: Evil never sleeps! Reggie: But ugly gets plenty of rest.

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Paul: You need to be more careful. Reggie, who was dragged into Paul's issue: Careful? CAREFUL?! I'LL CAREFULLY WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR THROAT-

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Reggie: Do you need help getting up? Paul: Nah, I'm cool down here on the floor.

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Paul: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt? Reggie: Reggie: Why are you eating dirt? Paul: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

----

Paul, entering the room: *Sees Reggie and leaves* Reggie, watching Paul leave: There’s my monthly dose of Paul…

----

*While planning to break in somewhere* Reggie: Hey, let's do "Get Help!" Paul: What? Reggie: "Get Help." Paul: No. Reggie: C'mon, you love it! Paul: I hate it. Reggie: It's great! It works every time! Paul: It's humiliating. Reggie: Do you have a better plan? Paul: No. Reggie: We're doing it! Paul: We are not doing "Get Help!" *A Minute Later* Reggie, carrying Paul: Get help! Please! He's dying! Help him! *throws Paul at guards, knocking them out* Reggie: Ahh, classic! Paul: *gets up* I still hate it. It's humiliating. Reggie, laughing: Not for me, it's not.

----

Reggie: Paul, what are you doing? Paul: *shaking a cat shaped piggy bank* I’m just trying to figure out how much change I have inside. Reggie: You could always take it out and count it. Paul: Where’s the fun in that?

----

Reggie: What the hell were you thinking? Paul: I heard releasing birds at a wedding is romantic! Reggie: You released OSTRICHES!

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Reggie: Can we go to a haunted house? Paul: What’s wrong with the one we live in? Reggie: Wh-what? Paul: Goodnight, Reggie.

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Reggie: Question. When they shot Bambi's mother, did you find that a sad moment...at all? Paul: I'm sure she's mounted on a nice wall in a fine home somewhere.

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Reggie: You think you're smarter than everyone else. Paul: I don't think I'm smarter than everyone else. I know I am.

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Reggie: I sort of did something and I need some advice, but I don't want a lot of judgment and criticism. Paul: And you came to me?

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Paul: *Kicks the door open, looking panicked* Reggie: What did you do?! Paul: NOBODY DIED! Reggie: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?!

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Paul: *sharpens knife* We've got ways of making people talk. Paul: *cuts piece of cake* Reggie: ...Can I have some? Paul: Cake is for talkers.

----

Paul: *slams books down in front of Reggie* Paul: Boil up some Mountain Dew. It’s gonna be a long night. Reggie: You could of said literally anything else. Paul: Cauldron boil and cauldron bubble, Baja Blast to fuel my trouble. Reggie: I’m going to just stop challenging you when you say random shit. I won’t win. I realize this now.

----

Paul: When I get murdered, can you make sure I become an unsolved case? Reggie: wHat? Paul: I want to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved. Reggie: Can we go back to the part when you said "when I get murdered"?

----

Reggie: *talking about Maylene’s funeral* You do know we’re burying a great person today! Paul, shocked: Did someone else die?

----

Paul: *looks at Reggie* Paul: Cinnamon roll of a brother. Important. Must protect. Paul: *looks at Maylene* Paul: Evil.

----

Paul: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon? Maylene: I'm a knife. Reggie, from across the room: She's the little spoon.

----

Maylene: I hope you have an explanation for this. Paul: We have three actually- Reggie: Pick your favorite.

----

Reggie: Paul... Paul: I can tell by the tone of your voice that you are disappointed. Alas, I must further disappoint you by affirming how little I give a fuck.

----

Reggie: Paul, remember when you said you weren’t going to interfere with my love life? Paul: No, that doesn’t sound like me at all.

----

Reggie: Honestly, I am so evil. So full of darkness. I feed of the souls of the living I strike fear into- Paul: You sleep with a teddybear. Reggie: He’s my sECOND IN COMMAND IN MY ARMY OF DARKNESS!

----

Paul, looking at his reflection: Now, that's rubbish. Who's that supposed to be? Reggie: Well, that's you. Paul: Me?! Is that what I look like? Reggie: You don't know? Paul: Busy day.

----

Paul: You are the best older brother and I would do anything within reason to make you happy. Reggie: I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep. Paul: I said within reason, Reggie. How about I murder that guy? Reggie: So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't? Paul: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?

----

Reggie: Happy October 32nd! Second Halloween! Paul: That doesn't exist. Reggie: Not with that attitude.

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Reggie: The Ocean is a soup. Paul: Paul: Do elaborate. Reggie: What are needed for something to be a soup? Paul: Erm... Water, salt, some form of vegetation, and personally I prefer some meat in mine. Reggie: *Tilts head* Paul: The Ocean is a Soup. Reggie: The Ocean is a Soup.

----

Reggie: What is the one thing I told you not to do? Paul: Burn the house down. Reggie: And what did you do? Paul: I made dinner. Reggie: Paul: Reggie: Paul: And burnt the house down.

----

Reggie: That's not funny. Paul: I thought it was funny. Reggie: You don't count. You started laughing in the middle of a funeral because you started thinking of a meme you saw on Facebook.

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Reggie: You’re jealous. Paul: Jealous? Reggie: That’s why you were being so negative about this. Paul: That’s absurd. I’m always negative.

----

Paul: Do you want some tea? Reggie: What are the options? Paul: Yes or no.

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Reggie, holding in their laughter: Hey, how do you ask a glass of water what it’s doing? Paul: A glass of water is an inanimate object. Therefore, it's incapable of having a thought process or understanding basic human language. Reggie: Reggie: Water you doing?

----

Paul: Reggie, I need some advice. Reggie: You need advice from ME? Paul: Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

----

Reggie: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO- Paul: It was me... Reggie: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.

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Paul: You spent all our money on THIS?? Reggie, putting tiny raincoats on psyducks: They live outside. They need this.

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Reggie: Are you tall enough to play basketball though? Paul: Are you calling me short? Reggie: I'm calling you vertically challenged.

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Reggie: You know, Paul, when you generalize, you tell general... lies. Paul: ... Paul: Are you trying to teach me moral lessons through puns.

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Reggie: Hey Paul? Paul: Yeah? Reggie: What's your favorite color of the alphabet? True or false? Paul: Paul: ...What.

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Paul: Vegetable oil is made from vegetables, coconut oil is made from coconuts, so BABY OIL- Reggie: CAN'T WE JUST HAVE A NICE FAMILY DINNER FOR ONCE?!

----

Paul: Do you know a torterra’s only weakness? Reggie: No... well, their slowness. Paul: Their weaknesss is they can't roll over when they are on their backs. Paul: Now I have a plan. Paul: If I duct tape two torterras together, they'll be unstoppable.

----

Reggie: Someone’s trying to break in. Call the cops! Paul: *loads shotgun* I got this. Reggie: Last week you fell up the stairs, what do you mean-

----

Paul: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies. Reggie: You’re too young to have enemies. Paul: You don’t even know.

----

Paul: Did you like the food I made? Reggie: No, not really. Paul: But I put my heart and soul into it! Reggie: No wonder it tastes so cold and dead.

----

Reggie: When's the last time you slept? Paul: Uh... a few days ago, I think. Reggie: A few- how many?! Paul: Uh... *starts counting on fingers* I need more fingers... Reggie: What you need is sleep!

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Paul: That’s the longest worm I’ve ever seen. Reggie: That’s an Ekans.

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Reggie, texting: Answer your phone Paul, texting back: Wait a minute, I can’t find my phone Reggie: Understood Reggie, 5 minutes later: You’re a terrible person. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing me, Paul.

----

Reggie: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone. Paul: Mine just says "Paul no." Reggie: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

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Reggie: ...My brother Paul just killed a Goldeen. Paul: *licking his lips* Yup. Delicious.

----

Reggie: You are, of course, wondering why it is I have brought you here tonight. Paul: Actually, Reggie, after all these years, I just sort of go with it.

----

Reggie: Wow, great work on the Halloween decorations. Where did you get the fake skeletons? Paul: Fake?

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Reggie: Why are you like this?? Paul: I used too much "No More Tears" shampoo as a kid and I haven't felt a single emotion since.

----

Reggie: Hey, are you okay? Paul: Yeah. Reggie: You don't look okay... Paul: Then stop looking.

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Paul: State your name, rank, and intention. Reggie: Reggie, Reggie, fun.

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Reggie: I am going to need you to swear- Paul: Fuck. Reggie: Reggie: ...swear as in promise.

----

Paul: And then they ran into my knife. They ran into my knife ten times. Reggie: You mean you stabbed them? Paul: They ran into my knife.

----

Reggie: *fast-forwards all the way through the movie* Paul: You can't just skip to the happy ending! Reggie: I don't have time for their problems.

[funkwhistle]

I wonder if you would be able to do a Sadie Adler x FemReader (fluff and smut) in which the reader saves Mrs. Adler from a job go wrong and gets hurt in the process doing so PLEASEEEEE THANK UUUU

Pairing: Sadie Adler x GN!Reader (I think?)

Warnings: None, it's just fluff

Notes: I might do a smutty pt2 - this has been sat in my drafts ever since the request came in, and I ain't wild on it personally (it ain't my best! :D), but why knows I might make a lovely smutty part 2

The pounding of hooves was the only thing you could hear at the moment, your eyes drifting shut as the four of you rode back to camp. Sadie had her arm around you, holding you on her horse, galloping as fast as Bob could go. Behind you, Lenny and Hosea rode, with equal urgency as Arthur, who was riding alongside Sadie, trying to get you back to camp as fast as possible.

The four of them had been down to Shady Belle, planning to steal some elusive jewels, which had been stolen from a passing boat the other week. The plan was meticulously organized, Sadie was to sneak in during nightfall, with Hosea distracting the guards while Lenny and Arthur would sneak into the building. Sadie would be the escape team, transporting the goods from the area without being spotted. You'd run it through with them all at camp, rehearsing it until Hosea could recite his lines in his sleep and Lenny couldn't be heard by anyone around camp.

It was a foolproof plan, if the guards didn't take the carefully fed bait, they'd leave, planning on slipping some unnamed plant Dutch had provided them with into their drinks. The plant promised drowsiness, giving them enough time to enter, steal the gems, and leave without raising the alarm. You were part of an emergency back up team; waiting with Micah and John in the trees nearby, in case things got nasty. What you did not count on, however, was for the guards to get bored by Hosea's fanciful story, shooting wildly at the man of when he took a breath.

Lenny and Arthur still managed to get their hands on a few, but without the others they were less valuable than the entire collection. Hosea was desperately shooting back at them alongside you three, but they outnumbered the two of you at least ten to one, and you were fighting a losing battle. Sadie had gone around with Arthur and Lenny to try to gain a little more money, but they weren't having much luck, judged by the panicked shouting.

Once the other three joined you, the six of you attempted to retreat, whistling for your steeds and backing away along the wide path to the house. Just as your horses reached you, you let your guard down for a moment, allowing a bullet to lodge itself in your midriff. A cry of pain from you alerted Sadie, who, without any hesitation, pulled you onto her horse, knowing you couldn't wait any longer here.

Now you were a little outside your camp, if you strained to open your eyes, you could see the haze of smoke from one of the fires. One of Sadie's hands was pressing on the wound, desperately trying to stopper the blood spreading over your shirt. You couldn't feel any pain from the wound now, feeling so numb with the continual pain that your body had almost become accustomed to it. A quick glance down showed the damage; the deep wine colour spreading over your shirt, Sadie's hand dripping with your blood.

“Hold on for me, come on now,” Sadie shook you awake a little as her horse slowed for you to get off. Hosea was calling Miss Grimshaw over, and someone else helped Sadie lift you off her horse, you had tried to help, but from the waist down you felt as weak as a rag doll, nothing moved when you told it to. People were rushing around you in a blur of colour, you were being taken somewhere, to what looked like Arthur's tent, you couldn't tell from your bleary vision. The last thing you noticed was Miss Grimshaw rushing to sit beside you, pulling your shirt up to see the extent of your injury.

But by the time you opened your eyes again it was dark again, and the camp was more subdued than usual. Carefully, you moved your hand over your wound, finding damp bandages covering it, and yet you felt worse than when you'd first entered camp, the feeling of dizziness was back tenfold, and you felt as though going back to sleep was the best option. However, you ignored this thought, looking around the Arthur's tent to spot Dutch, sat on the crate beside the bed, asleep with his head in his hands.

“Dutch-” you managed to whisper, even this small action exhausted you. He jolted awake, and his face broke into a relived smile as he looked down on you. For someone who never seemed to care about what you were doing, this change in demeanour was strange, even for someone as unpredictable as Dutch.

“You're awake,” he looked almost surprised, moving closer to you, “Mrs Adler has only just left since you arrived,” he laughed a little, but soon an awkward silence fell between the both of you as he looked at your wound. The tension was broken by Sadie, as soon as her eyes fell on yours she rushed into the tent, past Dutch, to drop beside the bed.

“Thank heavens,” she muttered, taking one of your hands in hers and rubbing circles, “I promise I ain't left apart from just then,” she said a little sheepishly, glancing at Dutch behind her. He grimaced a little before walking out, making sure to drop the canvas flap down, so you had a little privacy.

In the dimly lit tent, you could still make out the dark circles under Sadie's eyes, and the exhaustion which etched itself into the lines on her face. You had no idea how long you'd been out for, but you were too exhausted to move properly at the moment — you hadn't even tried to move anything aside from your head yet, unsure if you could.

“How're you feelin'?” she asked, grabbing your hand and rubbing small, comforting circles on your palm. Unsure if you could trust your voice not to betray your pain, you shrugged a little. The pain in your chest had subsided, although an uncomfortable stinging was webbing across where the wound lay. Sadie caught you looking at where the bullet had entered, squeezing your hand gently to guide your eyes back to hers.

“Remember what I told ya? 'Bout Jake? And tha' bullet he had in his leg, with some rest he was as right as rain, I know you don-” it was your turn to squeeze her hand, stopping her trail of concern.

“I'll be fine Sadie, stop worryin',” you croakily replied, your eyes fluttering shut, exhausted already.

“You're always alright, ain't ya?” you could hear her say, as she placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before you fell asleep.

[marlena-immortale]

NSFW Alphabet (Thomas)

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

A puddle. Thomas would be a puddle after sex. All fucked out and not able to form a complete sentence. He’d just wanna cuddle up to you and stay in your arms forever. You’d have to reassure him that you'll be right back when you go get a cloth to clean him up. And he’d be on top of you, so fucking clingy, the rest of the night. 

b = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite part of his own body is his hands. He is so proud to be able to make you feel good with his long slender fingers. And he knows you have a thing for them so he makes sure to play with them and move them around when he catches you staring. You can’t blame him either because they are just so beautiful and you want them all over you all the time. His favorite body part of yours is your hips. His favorite thing is to grip on to them while you bounce up and down on his cock. Not guiding you or moving you, just letting you fuck yourself on him while using his hands on your hips as his only tether to reality while you fuck his brains out. 

c = cum (anything to do with cum basically… i’m a disgusting person)

He would spill sooo much cum when you finally let him let go of all his pent up release. There would be thick white ropes dripping all over his chest and stomach after you jerk him off. 

d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This boy’s got plenty of dirty secrets, that he’s a little bit ashamed of, that he’ll slowly reveal, knowing that you’d never judge him for anything he’s into or wants to try. One thing that took him a while to let himself indulge in with you is his desire to be totally at your mercy and completely submit to you. He wants to be tied up, blindfolded, and told he’s your pretty little bitch. But once he does tell you, it’s become his second nature to get on his knees and bow his head everytime you give him a certain look. 

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He doesn’t have very much experience but don't worry, he gets off on you teaching him. You’d have to show how to properly make someone feel good and guide his tentative hands where you want them and tell him exactly what you want him to do and call him a good boy when he does it right. 

f = favourite position (this goes without saying.)

He loves it when you’re on top riding him, setting the pace and pinning him down to the bed. He likes to feel your weight on top of him, grounding him. Or, if he’s the one getting fucked, he likes you pounding into you in missionary so he can stare at your pretty face while he lays back and takes all the pleasure you’re willing to give him. 

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Most of the time, he’s too far gone to be cheeky but when you’re just getting started teasing or if you both are wanting something more vanilla for the night, he can be very cute and goofy, always messing around and making little jokes every once in a while. 

h = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He’s got cute little blond curls all over that you just can’t help but run your fingers through any chance you get. 

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Thomas is very intimate but still very submissive. He loves to have you closely pressed against him at all times to feel your love for him in your breaths against his skin and little kisses left on his face and neck and warm skin pressed against him. 

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He is constantly jacking off whenever he gets any alone time. Unless of course you punish him by not letting him touch himself because he's a good boy and he knows how to follow your commands even when he doesn’t want to. He knows that his domme knows best. 

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

Obviously he loves your d/s dynamic as well as bondage and pegging. But, something else he really enjoys is a little bit of pain. And not just as punishment, he likes the pain especially during sex. It drives him wild when you bite down hard on his neck or thighs, sometimes even drawing a little blood, or when you scratch your nails hard down his back, or when you fuck into him just a little too hard to overwhelm him a bit. 

l = location (favourite places to do the do)

He’d be down to fuck just about anywhere and any time you want. He loves to be pushed into the nearest lockable room. Or, maybe even a little mild public play with you softly running your fingertips along the exposed skin of his thighs or his chest or his palm and sensitive inner wrist. Or with you planting wet kisses on his neck while he shudders in your embrace, secretly hoping someone sees. 

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Literally anything you do. Seeing you lick a drop of ice cream that fell onto your hand; he’s instantly hard. You bend over to pick something up and a little more of your skin is showing

or reach up and your shirt rides up; he’s instantly hard. You innocently brush past him while walking, he’s instantly hard. This boy is obsessed with you and his body definitely makes that clear for you even if he tries to hide it. 

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn’t like to take charge but you don’t seem to have a problem with that. You love to have him under your control. 

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Always such a good boy, he’ll stay down there for as long as you like him to. And, he absolutely thrives off of being crushed between your thighs and you sitting on his face, grinding yourself on his pretty mouth and nose and using him just to reach your own orgasm. 

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fuck him hard and fast till his mind is turned to mush and he’ll be happy. In those rare times when he’s on top, bouncing up and down on your strap, he’ll be completely pliable in your hands guiding his hips on top of yours while his head rests on your chest letting out moans and whimpers and incoherent words that sound vaguely like your name.  

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Again, he’d be down ot fuck anywhere and any time and you know exactly how to make him cum so quickly. He’d be so blushy and subby afterwards too, all flustered and warm when someone tries to talk to him. He’d need you by his side the rest of the outing, clinging onto you all smiley and happy while everyone else gives you knowing looks. 

r = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s definitely game to experiment whenever you want to try something new and puts all his trust in you no matter what. Not to mention, Thomas is such an exhibitionist and doing things in public is his favorite risk to take. 

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Poor baby can never last very long when he has a pretty woman touching him. He’ll be ready to burst so quickly once you get your hands on him. 

t = toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

His favorite toy is of course your strap and the many ...ahem… attachments you have just for him. You prefer the big pink one that takes plenty of prep to fit inside him. He also loves your more painful toys too, as much as he begs and pleads for you to stop, he knows he has a safeword to use if he ever wants to and he secretly loves the punishment anyway. 

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

He would never last if he tried to tease you. You, on the other hand, love to tease him. Seeing him get all desperate and whiny is absolute heaven. You’d give him soft little touches and kisses all over his body except where he wants them most. He’d be so desperate you’d have to pin his hands down so he doesn’t touch himself in the meantime. 

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

Thomas is so fucking loud. Such a whiny little bitch. You’d have to make sure to stuff or cover his mouth when you’re in a place where you could get caught. When you’re in private though, he would nuzzle his face in your neck and his little whimpers would reverberate through you. 

w = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Thomas loves when you check in on him during a scene. He knows it’s just to make sure he’s still ok, but it just feels so intimate and sweet to him. You always take a second and lean down to brush the hair out of his face and wipe his stray tears away and place little kisses on his cheeks and nose and ask how he’s feeling or if he wants to continue. It always brings a smile to his face, even in the middle of a punishment. 

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

His cock is quite large. Very long but not super thick. It would feel so good inside you and would look so pretty all red and leaky, dripping all over his stomach. It would get all twitchy at the slightest touch or the feel of your breath over it. 

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is so high. This boy’s gotta get off every day, sometimes multiple times a day. Whenever you’re not fucking him, he’s getting himself off. He’s ready to go at just about any moment. 

z = zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Aw, poor boy is so tired afterwards. After his last orgasm of the night, he’s already half asleep and by the time you’re done cleaning him up, he’s snoring sweetly in your arms.

[sunsetbois]

New Intimacy - Chapter 4 - In The Name of Love

Warnings: graphic description of murder, Peter's lewd ass fantasies, heavily implied non con and... curse words?

If I missed anything let me know?

It went well! It couldn't have gone any better than this... well it could have but Peter knows you were not the type to fuck a stranger especially on the first date...

Ever since the coffee shop, he had felt elated and more positive about the progress he was oh so obsessed with. It couldn’t be helped. Peter scanned over the confirmation email he had received two days ago and zeroed in on the first “official,” treatment. Who was he to pretend the “unofficial,” treatments were not as valid after all? Sure you might have been unconscious for them, but you received them so well like he knew you would. His fingers tingled as he shuts his eyes and relives the moments for the numerous time. His warm batter felt like heaven against the soft but tight ridges of your boiling hot walls. If he concentrates, he is certain he can feel the wild clamping squeezing tightly around him. It sets him on fire.

Peter knows he shouldn't indulge...

But it feels so fucking good.

There was no one around, not for miles and no one he was expecting, he thought as his hand slithered down his tight jeans. He can picture you right there behind his eyelids. The way you would look so peaceful whenever he entered your room at night. Sometimes he would lick the drool from your slack lips and sometimes he'd give you something hard and unrelenting to drool on. Peter likes those nights the best of all. No clean up needed, not when his Darling so graciously offers them the welcoming embrace of their throat. If Peter didn't know any better, he'd have said you did that on purpose.

His hand pumped furiously over the glistening length between his legs.

But those were not the best memories he had of you. No, no. On his phone there were folders of you sprawled out by his own hand, glistening in sweat as your unconscious eyes rolled in your sleep. Cum splatters all over your cheeks, voluptuous chest and sticky thighs. Sometimes his hand would record him fucking the shit out of you whilst you sleepily groaned under the influence of the water you thought was safe.

“Fuck,” He worried his lip underneath razor sharp teeth. He didn't need to be quiet, but what was the fun in that? It was more practice for his night time visits~

Strong hips bucked into the warm embrace each time. His balls slapped against their denim covered confines. Fuck, how he wished it was you.

“It better fucking take this time Darling~” He purrs as he envisions your cunt wrapped around his cock and not his hand. With a squeeze, he felt himself paint your walls deeply.

It almost feels sad that he could not do that any longer, especially with the doctors involved. Careless eyes opened in annoyance. At least this way it could be organic. He sits his phone in his jean pocket and retrieves his laptop with stride. A photo shows up on the screen as soon as he opens it. The representatives case seems to have died down now, thankfully. There should be no more obstacles in his way now but his trusty- recently sharpened knife in his inner vest pocket was ready to play whenever.

Whenever may as well have been the moment he saw a customer be rude to you at the diner. Peter could see through the customer service facade they had you wear, he knew. So when he followed the person after wards, he struck without hesitation. Soemthing about hearing his darling being degraded in front of not only staff and not only other diners who looked away, but in front of him, boiled his blood and he was sure it would be the last mistake they’d ever make once he wiped them from the population count.

They blubbered apology after apology in the pursuit. Trails of red surrounded the poorly covered stab wound peeking out from their agonizing side. Peter smirked, he always enjoyed a chase. Luckily there was a dead end just down the alleyway he had herded them into. “Look at you now, hmm. Pathetic.” Peter spat. The dry skies threatened to cry beneath the heavy sigh of the winds.

Their hand tried to protect their face as Peter gained on them and he briefly wondered if the life would drain from their eyes faster than the last one had. His craved blue eyes callously took in the prey before him and with a swift swipe of silver, the skies cried.

Another face lost to the cool, unrelenting steel hiding in the pocket of a crazed man. Unluckily for him, he too won’t be seen again.

No one could know and Peter could not afford to let the reigns loose. As he fished out his packet of battered cigarettes, he inhaled the cool air with glee. There was nothing like killing to get the blood pumping but Peter knew he'd enjoy it better if you were here. No more facades, no more annoying masks, just you and him. Maybe he'd fuck you against that wall, his heavy eyes flickered towards. If he felt daring perhaps even in front of the corpse he sacrificed as retribution for his love.

The body remained curled, bloody and unrecognizable from the blunt trauma it took. There was no recognizable feature left to tell who they were before, not when Peter bashed their jaw into their trachea and all but left them a bloody and chunky mess.

Now they would never harass his darling again... he thought with a love sick smile. Peter knew he had to be the one to do this becuase who else would look out for his darling, but him? He knew that only he had the balls to do it and that was the primary reason why he hadn't gone after your beloved TK so much... he knew when it came down to it, that nobody but him would ever be able to go to the lengths he will. Although the green haired pest was beginning to get on his nerves.

Nothing would ever be able to get in the way. He saw that look in his eyes when you had told TK about the surrogacy clinic. How he wept with glee at the.. not quite disappointment but unrequited yearning he saw flicker in those hideous golden orbs.

It didn't matter now. Tk would never get the chance, not when Peter had his plans for you. The rain battered heavier and eith each lashing, Peter begrudgingly pulled the hood over his face and accepted that he would only get half a cigarette in.

As he crushes the remaining dying embers into the dirty ground with his boot, he heard his ring tone blast. He lazily tugged the device from his jean pocket expecting either his stupid sister or one of his sponsors. When he unlocked it however, his heart stuttered.

Darling is calling...

[jadegrey711]

I Wasn’t Expecting That (Part 2)

Eric Northman X Fem!Reader

A/N: Hello my loves! So a while back I posted the first part of this oneshot with Eric Northman and I got a few comments saying they wanted a part two which I definitely wasn’t planning on doing but in one of my insomnia episodes I came up with the plot for part two! Be warned it’s super angsty which is a rarity coming from me. 

*NOT MY GIF*

Word Count: 1487

If you like my stories you can check out my sideblog @jadegreywriting​ to see all of them and my masterlist without filtering through my main blog.

Soundtrack Inspiration: 

-Cruel World: Active Child 

-Cold: Aqualung, Lucy Schwartz

- I wish I knew: Shron Van Etten

I own all rights to this story and do not give permission for my stories to be published, translated or reposted anywhere else. The only places I have published my stories is here on Tumblr and on my AO3 account (LadyAuthor711)

Everything around you was dark. Dark and suffocating. You felt like you were coated in that darkness as it laid heavily over every inch of your skin, over your mouth suffocating you, and your eyes as it blinded you further. You felt the fear get the best of you as you started to claw your way out of the darkness, you felt it as it clung under your fingernails. You tried to blink it away as it got in your eyes but there was no use, you let your panic guide you through the cloying darkness as you finally broke free and saw the face of your own personal heaven; Eric.

You felt your chest relax a bit at the site of his smooth face, his blue eyes wide with worry. Maybe this truly was heaven and even here in this heavenly place, they let you have your monster.

He held his hand out for you to take, a small smile starting to form on his face at the sight of you.

“Eric.” You whispered, hearing just how rough your voice sounded to your own ears and reached your hand out to take his. But when you did you were startled at how solid it felt under your hand. With your hand still in his you turned his hand around examining it, his touch felt so real like he was actually here. Then you felt it.

Hunger.

A deep chest aching hunger rushed through you, you shook your head in confusion and watched as the small smile on Eric’s face faded as he watched you put the pieces together.

“Y/N.”  He whispered softly, like you were a frightened animal he was trying to coax from falling over a ledge.

You let go of Eric’s hand and turned your head to look back at what he had just pulled you out of. A hole.

“No.” You whispered. Looking at the massive hole where you just clawed your way out of and then back to Eric. And you finally saw the dirt he was covered in.

“Y/N. I can explain but first you have to eat.” He said in a firm but still soft voice and pulled a blood bag from behind his back.

“Oh God, Eric.” You whispered, feeling tears coming to your eyes. And the memory of your final moments came back to you. The feel of the bullet tearing through your chest, your heart slowing, and Eric’s voice roaring as you faded into that sweet darkness.

You looked down at yourself and saw the blood that coated your shirt right where your heart was. You felt that panic washing over you again in waves as you frantically tried to find the bullet hole. You teared open your shirt and clawed at your chest trying to find it, hoping that this was some sort of sick joke.

Eric reached his hands out to stop you. But you slapped him away. “Y/N. Let me explain, please.”

“You didn’t Eric!” You shouted, feeling the tears stream down your face as all the pieces came together.

Shame crossed Eric’s face.

“Please Eric, tell me you didn’t. That you didn’t do this to me!” You screamed, rubbing the tears from your eyes but stopped cold as you looked at your fingers. They were covered in blood. You truly were vampire now, blood tears and all.

“Y/N.” He said, reaching for you again and this time not letting you stop him as he enveloped you in his strong arms. But you couldn’t stop looking at your fingers.

“Oh my God.”

“You couldn’t understand why I did it.” he said softly against your dirt covered hair. “One minute you were by my side and then the next you were jumping in front of me, taking a bullet in the heart. Pam told me you were too far gone, but-”

You cut him off, pushing at his chest and surprising yourself when you were able to push him away. “You were selfish.”

Eric looked pained at that. “I couldn’t just let you die Y/N! You had so much life left to live and… and I just couldn’t bear the thought of it being ripped away from you.” “And you call this living? Feeding off of people and living in darkness?” You watched as Eric ground his teeth. “I died saving you!” You shoved at his chest again and felt a small amount of satisfaction at watching him stumble. “I took a bullet for you and this is what you do!” You shouted and shoved at Eric again and he let you. He let you get all of your anger out as you continued shoving and punching his chest.

“I died a hero’s death and then you turn me into a fucking monster!” You screamed, giving Eric one last punch hard enough to knock him to the ground. You felt your shoulders sag and then you fell to your knees, letting your blood tears fall to the ground. You felt like all your energy had been sapped out of you, you knew it was the hunger but you dreaded knowing that you’d have to feed.

Eric was already back on his feet and standing in front of you. “I know I was selfish. But, there is no life for me without you, Y/N. There never will be and even if it takes years for you to forgive me I will be right there until you do.”

“What if I never forgive you?” You asked your voice calm and even as you looked up at his pained face.

“Then that’s your choice. I’ve taken enough of your choices.”

Both of you were silent as you stewed over your choices.

“Before you decide to hate me forever can you please just eat. You maybe vampire now but you’ve had nothing to eat and you're weak.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want that.”

“Y/N.” he said in a firm voice.

“Fuck Eric! Lay off! I’m covered in blood and dirt and I’m going to retch at the idea of drinking that right now. I just want to wash everything off of me. Okay?”

Eric just nodded and held out his hand again for you to take.

**** You sighed softly at the feel of the shower washing off all the dirt and blood that was still on you from last night. You watched as the blood swirled down the drain, the last remnants of your human life being washed from you.

You turned the shower up, feeling that your skin was still cold but you still didn’t feel the warmth of the shower seep through your skin. So, you turned it up hotter and hotter. But still you felt nothing as you stood there under the scalding water but you were still cold on the inside.

You don’t know how long you had been standing here in that shower, but without realizing it you saw Eric’s hand reach past the shower curtain and turn down the water before he stepped inside himself. He was naked but there was nothing sexual between you as he climbed into the shower and grabbed the shampoo and started washing the dirt from your hair.

He was gentle as he covered your eyes and washed the soap from your hair then grabbed the conditioner and began to repeat the process. All the while he whispered to himself in another language but you couldn’t be bothered to find out what he was saying.

There was a time when you dreamt about your life with Eric and how it didn’t matter how happy you were with each other there would always be a time when you’d have to say goodbye to one another. Whether it was a few years down the line or in death. But, now there would be no goodbye unless you decided to leave him and you were pretty sure that even if it would kill him he would let you go this time. Like he said, he had taken enough of your choices.

You were tired of being angry, tired of thinking about what your life would be like now. You knew why he did it, and honestly you couldn’t say that you wouldn’t do the same for him, you did take a bullet for him. You just wanted to enjoy the feel of Eric’s hands on you again, wanted to enjoy the fact that you could hold him again.

So, you turned in his arms and wrapped your arms around his waist holding him tight. You heard his small sigh as he wrapped his hands around your head and held you as he stroked your wet hair.

You both had a lot to discuss for the future and maybe that future didn’t include Eric but right now you wanted to enjoy the first spark of warmth in your chest you felt all night.

[bored-storyteller]

34 for Kaeya please? 🥺

Hi Anon!

Ahem, when it comes to Kaeya, I always get a little excited. And I am also afraid because I am always in doubt if all this in the future will prove to be extremely OOC, but I cannot know this yet.

(Anyway, it's angst/comfort, but if you just want angst and just angst then you can stop before "...")

Hope you like it anyway!

66- Genshin Impact, Kaeya Alberich x Reader

From the prompt list

34- “Will you miss me at all?”

"I give you my heart completely, it is yours, I give it to you." The Captain of the Knights of Favonius had whimpered as he comically clung to the half-empty mug.

You smiled with a slight sigh: "Your heart is mine as it is owned by all of Mondstadt."

His pleading face had turned into an offended pout as he threw the remaining alcohol down his throat.

"Hey, my heart isn't that cheap!" He had almost scolded you as he slammed his empty glass on the wooden table.

You don't know what you'd give to hear those stupid flirtations of him right now. Those sweet and mean jokes that sometimes flattered you, sometimes made you laugh, and still others hurt you.

You don't know what you'd give to run to the tavern to share a drink with him, to hear him laugh, to get mad at him or to be able to feel the warmth of his hand on your shoulder.

But all you feel is the wet cold that threatens rain, a bitter and hateful cold, a miserable and dead cold that you would have gladly exchanged to curl up in the dry and majestic chill of ice.

"Kaeya ..." His name escapes your lips like a faint prayer as you look at his one visible closed eye "Kaeya, don't sleep ... who's the lazy one, huh?"

You swallow as your fingers brush his blood-soaked hair. You caress his cold cheeks, you cuddle his head as it rests in your lap. "Everything will be fine ..." you whisper to him "everything will be fine ..." you try to convince yourself.

A rumble too close makes you scream. Your arms instinctively pick up the knight's helpless body and your body bends over him to protect him.

What is happening? You don't even remember, you don't even know, probably.

"Kaeya don't sleep ..." You repeat again, holding on to every faint breath of him.

"Hey…"

For a moment you don't even distinguish that that's his voice, for a moment you think you've just imagined it, that you've mistaken a breath of wind for the sound of him.

But weak and frail, Kaeya calls you back to him.

You call him too, a new hope is born in your gaze, now that you can admire his iris periwinkle of him.

Your voice trembles, like your hands, and your lungs. It hurts you to breathe as long as you need to cry, but you resist and instead you go back to caressing him slowly, trying to give him relief, affection, whatever you can give him in that moment - all your heart.

"Kaeya, hold on, you'll be fine." Try to put all the conviction you can into it "You were great."

On his tired and dirty face you can still see the ghost of that smile so familiar to you, yet in him there is a sadness that you do not know how to erase.

Your fingers intertwine with his blue locks, which loose and wild now rest on him, and on you.

"Always so kind ..." His murmur is sweet, yet it burns like a hot iron. What is his personality is drowned in melancholy and fear.

You would like to tell him that you are not kind, you have never been, but his face leaning towards you in search of your warmth silences you. Why does everything, from his smile, to his breath, to his blinking, smell of latest deeds?

"I think ... it's selfish to ask you ..." he gently calls all your attention "but ... will you miss me at all?"

You had prayed until then that he would not speak, not hint at that dark prospect. Because you know that at this point you can no longer breathe, the tears that blurred your vision can no longer be held back, and your throat hurts so much as you try not to sob.

How could you ever imagine getting up tomorrow knowing that Kaeya is gone? How could you tackle the streets of Mondstadt remembering his footsteps, his voice behind the walls, and his smiles peeking out from around the corner? How could you have tolerated the scent of Death after Noon anymore? How could you ever face Teyvat, the whole world, who would have moved on without him?

"Yes ... it's selfish ..." your murmur is so broken that you hardly understand it yourself, and you clear your throat, forcing yourself to be firm in your words "You said it's mine ... isn't it?"

Your hand slides across his chest, still warm under your cold numb fingers.

Under his skin you can feel the faint pulsing movement, like a little bird moving under your palm. And you pray with all of yourself, so that this little bird doesn't stop flying.

“You gave it to me… right? Here inside of you ... here is my heart. You can't be so selfish as to take it away from me, right? Sure ... sure I will miss my heart ... "Your every word turns into prayer, supplication, to the Archons, to heaven, to whatever can save him.

Your eyes can't see his expression, not now that your face is hidden in his hair and tears run down your cheeks without giving you peace.

Your fingers grip his clothes as if they could hold him there one last time, before he is pushed away from you and arms of fire envelop you.

"I'll miss you…"

. . .

Kaeya listened to every beat of his heart. Even in the dark, all he cared about was feeling that constant movement inside his body.

"So good." he thought every time the muscle twitched "keep it up, like a good guy."

Even when his pupils began to perceive reddish hues behind his eyelids and distant voices began to reach his ears, Kaeya never stopped worrying about that heartbeat that had suddenly become like this. precious.

The object that is pushed into his throat is so bitter that he would like to spit it out without restraint, but with a big sip of water he forces it to fall into his stomach. Anything to help that heart to beat stronger and more vigorous again.

"Kaeya ..." Your weak voice reaches him, and his only eye that can see crosses you.

"Hey ..." He greets you with a smile, one of his.

He doesn't think you've ever seen him in bed, covered in bandages as he is now. It is already a lot if he can sit in that semi-sitting position, leaning against the pillow on the headboard of the bed.

"You have finally arrived." He barely laughs as you shyly approach his bedside. You still look shaken, you look tired, you look like a frightened fawn.

"They wouldn't let me come ..." guilty whispers "they thought ... they thought it was better that I didn't see ..."

You don't continue the sentence, but he knows it. He had foreseen that ending, not that he was happy about it, but he had thought that dying in your arms wasn't such a bad ending, at least until he met your pain.

"Ah ... I had a bad time huh?" He laughs, but you don't. He's back to himself, or he never stopped being, but the sight of him so miserable can't hearten you, it's as if you still fear for him.

"... You really would have missed me." The realization he exhibits is not playful. It is quiet, but serious and light, as if he hadn't really believed it up until that moment.

Your shoulders shake again, under the weight of the anguish you have endured, under the pressure you never gave in. Because while you waited you never cried, nor bowed your head, it was not your right to do so.

But now that he's okay, you can cry over his wounds and you can throw all the fear out of yourself.

"Oh ... what a bad knight I am, I made you cry again ..." he murmurs, but there is no real guilt in his voice, but a tender affection for you "come here, let me make me forgive."

His arm gently pulls you towards him, letting you rest against his chest.

"Listen" he murmurs as he rests his cheek on your head "I protected your heart like you asked me, I was good, right?"

He wouldn't need to take on other responsibilities, he already has a lot of them, more than you think, yet he can't help but take care of you. He loves you so much that he is even willing to live if that makes you happy.

"You've been good."

[strawbabysimp]

Adult Trio Soulmate Strings AU HCs

Chrollo

No one had told him what the string meant, what was on the other side waiting for him. Children in Meteor City knew how to fight and how to live and how to kill. Not how to love. Or maybe they did and the world simply told them they shouldn't. That they weren't deserving of it. As he got older Chrollo eventually sought out the meaning of this mysterious red string, finding his answer in one of the books he managed to get his hands on in that wretched and beloved place. A soulmate.

There was a person out there just for him, but more importantly, there was a destiny. A plan for him. He knew he had to find them, to secure this irrefutable connection to another. The leader had planned to meet them when he got out of Meteor City, it was part of the reason he formed the Troupe. Though, as the years went on and life took its toll on him, as it did anyone, the desire to find this person faded. By the time The Spiders had managed to become a notorious group, it was a dream within a dream. A soulmate? How tragically philosophical.

That's not to say he wasn't curious, but he lost that drive, running on autopilot as he searched for a passion without the motivation to even want one. Sometimes he did find himself especially enraptured by the red string secured around his finger though, toying with it during meetings or tying small knots that soon came undone while laying in bed.

Guilt wasn't something he felt often, taking lives and valuables without a second thought was a regular occurrence, but with you? He felt utterly in the wrong. To deny you of something even he found beautiful simply because he "didn't care?" That's when he felt like a monster. He found comfort in the title though, embracing the fact of what he was. He was selfish and greedy and somehow still found a way to prevent himself from gaining the one thing that could save him.

One day he had been twisting the string between his fingers, a mannerism that even the others around him had picked up on when there was a tug back. It became a regular occurrence, the two of you pulling on the string lightly back and forth. You tried to beg him through the string to come to find you, pulling him in your direction, but he never did come. You knew it was impossible to tell, but it seemed he had gotten even farther away.

The only connection you'd ever have with him was through those small motions and you'd go on to love someone else. Maybe not in the way you would have loved him, but there's not much to do when you're destined to love someone who was forced to learn how not to.

Hisoka

"I don't have one" he'd respond calmly. This was his and his alone, so what if people thought he was a freak? He wouldn't allow someone to interfere with this in even the most minuscule way. A person who relied on him and only him to fulfill the grandest idea of love? Nothing could hold more power than the blood-soaked string tied around his ring finger.

Heaven's Arena was a well-known spot, a tourist attraction of sorts, so you simply had to stop by when you happened to be near. As you made your way to the stands and gazed on at the stage you found him already looking at you, giving you a quick smirk as your gaze fell to his hand with a shocked expression. At the end of his "performance" he typically met with fans but this time he naturally went straight to you, a single blood-stained rose held out in a tender gesture. You didn't question how he had managed to obtain the flower, too busy processing the fact that this bizarre man was your soulmate.

Every moment with you is too much for him to endure. It's an adrenalin rush that he's become addicted to but whenever he looks at you he gets this urge to tear everything you are apart and cover himself in the pieces he could never think to reach from the outside. Being close to you is never close enough and the only way to satisfy this feeling of need would be to destroy you. He can't bear to do that but it's so tempting.

At rare times something in him seemed to break, going off on tangents about the cruelty of his thoughts and how he longed to turn you into yet another victim of his murderous desires. He had planned to take over your life, wishing to bask in the high your undying love was sure to give him. A man becoming weak through the pursuit of power is a pitiful sight even for one not tied to them by fate. "My love will never complete you. I take and I take and I offer up only the worst parts of myself because that's all I have to offer. That's the tragedy of loving me, my dear. I will not apologize because I do not feel bad, however, I will not allow myself to hurt such a lovely thing."

You always come back to each other, the string acting as a sort of magnet between you two. Eventually, you both come to accept the situation for what it is; deadly but far too tempting to not risk everything for. He was the most beautiful thing you'd ever laid eyes on and if the image of him was the last thing you ever saw you'd consider it a privilege.

Surprisingly enough, the magician never does end up taking your life, finding the unfamiliar task of restraining himself a new sort of challenge to prove his strength. Holding you close to him, pressing your body against his as he watches your auras merge, was a common occurrence. When his bloodlust rose and your fear spiked just a fraction he would plant a gentle kiss on your cheek before pulling away with some excuse, you both knew he did this to protect you but he'd never admit that.

Illumi

Soulmates were a weakness in the eyes of the Zoldycks, hypocritical to say the least as Silva and Kikyo were tied by fate, but that was typical. Despite the harsh words his parents had told him, his curiosity would eventually get the better of him and he would seek you out. Traveling in the direction the string took him without fail. It was an easy task when you had money and power. Locating you was not the issue, deciding what to do with you once found was. Simply approaching you wouldn't do.

He watched you for a long time, disappearing into a crowd or dark corner whenever you felt eyes on you. One day you found yourself doing trivial tasks, walking the streets on your way to pick up a snack, or do some light shopping when an unfamiliar feeling hit you. It wasn't unpleasant so much as it was surprising. You even describe it as lovely.

Despite his best efforts to keep himself hidden from your view, Illumi had never been trained to hide love. Pain, fear, anger, sadness, all these were painstakingly buried deep within him to the point that even he didn't know how to release them. But what he felt when looking at you grew greater with each small action and he didn't notice it slipping through until it was too late.

The second your eyes met he was a goner. It was like a drug to the emotionally-deprived man and while he knew it wouldn't do any good to engage you, the selfishness that was ripped out of him from a young age came flooding back full force. Both of you remained shocked as you approached one another but the small smile you gave him was enough to make him think that maybe this was the one time surrendering himself to feelings was okay.

Marrying you was a plan he wants to put into action as soon as possible, using the piece of paper as a form of protection. "Never kill a family member" read the Zoldyck rules that were engraved into the assassin's mind. This would be one of many forms of rebellion you had influenced Illumi in making, and while it wasn't necessarily against the rules, it was certainly not something he thought his parents would approve of.

When you're hanging out he remains a bit stiff, not sure of how to act around someone casually. You begin to feel off-put by the awkward composure of your soulmate though he picks up on it easily, his ability to read people far more advanced than the average person. Illumi allows a small bit of his aura to shine through the veil to reassure you of his contentment, and while he won't acknowledge it, you're grateful for his efforts. It's during one of these dates, hidden away in a hotel relaxing beside one another, that the usually warm and comforting aura changes. His arm comes to hold you just a bit tighter and the love he allowed to encompass you shut off. This had happened times before but your attempts at reassurance through small touches did no help to soothe the Zoldyck.

Later that night his hand would rest gently against your cheek as the light in your eyes dies, your face is wet with tears but a forgiving smile still rests kindly on your face. You're already gone. He can feel it. Despite this he holds you against him late into the night, only letting go when he can no longer bear to see you in such a state. His eyes stay downcast as he refuses to look up at the state the sky is in, not wanting to face the fact that the wetness of his cheeks could be from anything other than the weather. He sends one message before putting his phone away with shaking hands. Yet another job is done.

[sasster]

Something Something Apple Something Tree

Google docs for people who hate the color hot pink

--

There was a palpable tension that settled into the room between the two, Benjin was notoriously bad at making conversation. He squirmed beneath the Embalmer's gaze. It was uncomfortable. There was a flash of recognition in the elders eyes, and he seemed to focus elsewhere. Thank the heavens for that.

They both knew why he was staring anyway. The resemblance was uncanny.

"Thank you for having me over, sir." His voice was strained, like he'd been working meticulously to keep it at tone that would not upset the Embalmer. The problem was that this was their first time meeting. He had no idea where that line was. He had no way of knowing where it was. "No need for the honorifics, my child. But you are very welcome." Benjin recoiled at the use of the word. It sounded alien coming from such a kind voice, and yet he hated it all the same. "Yes, uhm, sorry Embalmer." "Thanat is fine, Benjin." It was strange, hearing his name come in such a gentle tone Historically, well.. Actually, who cares about historically? Why was he acting like he was anywhere but the present? Suddenly, he was smiling. "Right, yeah! Thanks for having me over, Thanat. I wasn't..Really expecting an invitation if I'm being honest." Thanats face softened, and he sat in a way that told Benjin his guard was down. That he was comfortable with him. "Yes, well I cannot have Polly being the only contender for favorite. It would be terrible for his ego." He says as he starts to stand, a small playful smile on his face. "Do you like tea, Benjin?" "Not really..I've never had it." It's a bit sheepish the way it comes out, admonished almost. In a split second he pops up again. Smiling. Thanat watches with his eyebrows raised, clearly amused. "I haven't! But, I won't turn your tea down. So long as it's peppermint." Another sheepish smile. "I made a promise." "Peppermint for the first time? It is a bit of an acquired taste." Still with that amused smile on his face, he turns and walks in the direction of the kitchen. "But who am I to trample upon your agency?" With that he disappeared into the next room. Without the, admittedly intimidating, presence of the Embalmer, Benjin was free to actually take a good look around the room. Maybe actually get a good read on the guy. The room he sat in was very cozy, but what really caught his attention were the bookshelves that lined the walls. Some of them filled with books and the others covered in knick knacks. There was one specific shelf that demanded his eye. It was bare, save for a single silver bell, what looked like a wolfs tooth, and uh... Actually a space deliberately left next to it. Line up neatly in front of three photos, a lime blood, a purple blood, and a brown blood. It was strange. Obviously they were meant to resemble the elder trolls mourning.. But why didn't the brown blood get a keepsake? Ultimately, he decided it really wasn't his business. He would not be prying. The small quaint home was quite nice, and not at all what he'd come to expect from the living arrangements of a titled ancestor. He met Sawbones, he lived with Harlan -- He never considered they were the exception and not the rule. The atmosphere started to melt at his defenses. He could feel himself starting to relax into the couch. Thanat probably wasn't going to kill him after all. It was just a social visit. It wasn't long that Thanat was gone, he returned to the room with the tea and some sort of pastry that Benjin guesses typically accompanies it. He wouldn't know, the twins weren't exactly the type to throw tea parties. Even if they were, he would not have attended. It looks like the elder troll is about to hand his cup to him, and he starts to feel the panic rush out. The want to not be rude fighting a vicious battle with his insistence to not accept anything from another persons hands flashed clearly in his eyes and across his face. Benjin fidgets, eyes wide. Then, he watched as the cup was set on a coaster in front of him. His lungs remembered how to do their job. "Forgive me, I am not one to hand things off." Came the soft voice he'd found himself accustomed to. A pair of gentle eyes scanning him over in search of his reaction -- He didn't squirm under those eyes those time. It was a warm and inviting look, one of concern not one of demand. And he asked for forgiveness? It took him off guard! "Of course, yeah, no problem. I, uh... I'm still not.." Benjin trails off as he

stares at his cup. "We do not have to speak of him." Benjin gives an affirmative nod, now grasping the cup clumsily between his hands. He liked the warmth. Thanat did not react to it if he'd noticed his awkwardness. Benjin focused on the warmth for a second. "Right! Right.. I don't really know what to talk about." "We can enjoy the silence together." Benjin'd...Never done that. Silence with another person in the room, it was typically filled with dread. He fidgets with the handle of the cup. Finally, he brings it up close to his nose and gives it an inquisitive sniff. It's strong. Terribly minty. He blinks a few times to rid himself of the scent, but it lingers. A shocked expression overtakes his features. Wow! Veylin likes this stuff? Thanat poorly conceals a chuckle behind a well placed cough. "Maybe I should have asked for water.." "Nyetha will be crushed that you do not enjoy her favorite drink." His face contorts into an expression that could be the love child of surprise, humor, and disappointment. "She likes this stuff?" Another tentative sniff. "I guess they can't both be wrong about a cup of tea." Thanat raises his brows again, as if to day that he disagrees, but was thoroughly amused by the experimentation happening before him. "He goes." He declares before bringing the cup to his lips and taking in a mouthful that was maybe a little too much for a test drive. The overpowering taste took over his entire mouth almost immediately. Regret was clear on his face, in his eyes even! He sat there for moment, holding the large sip in his mouth, as Thanat who sat across from him could barely contain himself. His shoulders shook as he restrained his sensible chuckle! Successfully, beating the urge to spit it all out onto the floor, Benjin swallows the cursed elixir down. By this point, Thanat was fully consumed by his laughter. Benjin brought the cup back up to his nose, brows furrowed as he sniffed it again. The corner of his lips pulled up into a playful snarl. "What is this stuff? Are you sure that you made it right?" Thanats laughter finally ebbed off, he could still see the humor in his eyes though.  "Come now Har-- Benjin." The humor was replaced with regret in an instant. Ben worked at swallowing the lump that immediately formed in his throat. Harlan ruined everything. He focused again on the cup in his hands, trying very hard to pretend he didn't notice. The Embalmer continued, though. A futile effort to mend the quickly burning bridge. "Come now, Benjin," extra emphasis on his name for good measure "it cannot have been that bad. Though, in my old age I may have forgotten the sugar." Perhaps a joke would alleviate the tension. (It did not.) "No sugar!" Benjin managed to sputter into the cup, he was trying to keep his spirits up. But it was clear by the strain of his voice -- He was crestfallen. It was clear, though. The election to not acknowledge it was mutual. "You tried to kill me!" "I think you will not have liked it either way." "We'll never know now will we!" Though they continued to banter in this manner, an attempt to alleviate, it was obvious by the way the tension bubbled back up between them. This would be Benjins last visit to the Embalmers home for a very long time.