#and the scars on their right arm are caused by a specific plant in the cityscape. i think the plant's like that magnet powder?

[kenopsia-ksp]

valerian sweep

[bobosbillionsknives]

i agree with a lot of your points about knives, i do also think he is aroace of some kind (demi imo), but the way he ignores bodily autonomy wasn't a theme that was new to stampede. the way he consumes other plants and forced vash to use his angel arm are examples of it, though less explicitly 'sexual'. either way, his actions weren't born out of sexual attraction, he simply thinks that all plants are an extension of himself and he can use their bodies as he pleases since its for a 'greater purpose'. he is not a predator but he isn't innocent either

Oh no no no no no no no I do NOT wanna give the impression that I am genuinely defending knives is ANY way. 😭

I completely agree with everything you're saying. He is inarguably abusive. Saying he's not would be a wild ass claim to make. 🙏 My only argument here is that it isn't specifically sexual, but I'll get more into that in a bit. 😝 I have SO MUCH to say abt this...so I'm gunna use this as an excuse to word vomit on y'all. Thank you for bringing this to me I am itching.CRAVING to talk about my favorite girls always. 🤗💖

INSANE ESSAY POSTING LETS GOO !!!

I think your point on Knives seeing the plants as an extension of himself is SPOT ON!!! He does the same thing with Vash too. He's doing it because hes so stuck up his own ass he seriously thinks there is no possible way he could ever be wrong, everyone else is just too blind or stupid to see it his way. That's why he does the whole "eternal suffering for Vash the Stampede" bit. He genuinely cannot comprehend that Vash just fundamentally disagrees with him. He thinks if Vash goes out and sees every horrible thing a human can be he'll finally give up the hippy dippy act and face this false reality Knives made up as a coping mechanism so he never has to actually face any of his problems. Cause stabbing all your problems away is waaaaay easier than actual growth or change. Top ten girls who are trapped by the horrors of their past 😂!

Knives has a blatant misunderstanding of people's worth outside of himself. He disregards the lives of others constantly, he literally murdered 20 mil+ and was genuinely confused when Vash was mad at him for it. He doesn't take anything seriously. He especially doesn’t take physical pain seriously, unless it’s happening to himself. [DID YOU ACTUALLY SHOOT ME!!?] He's said that he knows none of the crazies he sends after Vash can ever kill him. He thinks if they can't kill him, then none of the hurt Vash experiences during these fights really count. Its always a game to him. He knows Vash will be fine because he has faith in his ability to fight. (He's complimented his fighting skills several times lol.) Yet he’s consistently shocked and disgusted when he sees Vashes scars, like he didn’t play a role in that ??? He just never thought of it until it was literally staring him in the face.

HE THINKS EVERYTHINGS A DAMN GAME !!!!!

Knives never really wants to force Vash to agree with him either, he's literally waited decades for him to come around to his point. He's definitely lashed out violently before, and has disregarded his safety. But I don't think he actually even likes seeing Vash in pain 😭 (maybe a little in a Itoldyouso brother kinda way lol.) He's completely horrified when he sees his scars. This panel speaks absolute VOLUMES to me. He is angry that Vash would allow people to hurt him this much. (Bro is for sure a victim blamer 🥱 Vash OBVIOUSLY should've known humans are evil and would do this to him. 🙄 HIS FAULT !) Those scars solidify in his mind that his brother is reckless, and clearly doesn't know what's best for himself. That's why he feels the right to "save" him from humans. Knives out of anyone in the world knows how much Vash disregards his own life. He's angry that his own brother would choose the perceived violence of humanity instead of the safety he has worked SO hard to cultivate for over a hundred years. After everything they learned from their childhoods, Vash would have to be deaf and dumb to keep crawling back to them. (From his perspective anyway.)

Everything Knives does he thinks is to better Vashes life. That's what makes him such a tragic character to me. He genuinely believes he's in the right and doing everything he has to so him and his brother can feel that safety that was never guaranteed to them in childhood. He loves Vash, (PLATONICALLY !!!! 😰) He wants Vash to be happy. He just doesn't understand why, that despite everything, living alongside the humans is what makes him happy. Something he only accepts at the end of trimax when he literally trees himself to assumed death so Vash could have that. Knives is unambiguously in the wrong, but I do think his thought processes are sympathetic. WRONG. But like .I get it girl. Besides, he acts more like a toxic mother than anything. How DARE you be so ungrateful after everything I've ever done for you that you've never even asked for. ✋😒 and EXPLICITLY told me not to do. Ugh. 🙄 you don't even love me…guess im just a terrible brother than huh…🥀 BITCH SHUT UP !!!!

Now about the asexuality, not only...do I think Knives is aroace. I think he's completely sex REPULSED!!!!! Sex is a mark of human degeneracy, animals clinging for power over each other. Hed think hes above it !! It would disgust him, I don't think he's ever had a sexual thought in his life. He’s also a Jesus freak he'd think procreation in general is a sin 🙄‼️ik his interpretation of the bibles gotta be INSANE. Exploring sensuality is like a normal and healthy thing to do no fucking WAY Knives is self aware enough to do all that. If he could experience any kind of libido, his hatred of humans would never allow him to explore it anyway. Since sex is such a huge part of human culture. He probably thinks consensual sex is a myth humans made up to assault each other easier…😭

this is literally him bro I can't see him any other way...🚬 He's literally a pearl clutching mom who refuses to understand anyone else's experiences because he doesn't understand them.

I can't imagine him being able to feel romantic love either...I actually think it would be pretty out of character ngl. Plus I think it could be an interesting element of why he feels so disconnected from humanity in general. It would be part of why he feels the need to define himself as alien. Knives would rather die than admit this, (and he did) but all he's ever wanted was understanding. The same way Vash does. Knives doesn't understand sexuality/romance, or deep empathy, or most social confinements at all. That's clear by his inappropriate emotional reactions and lack of a filter. He can't feel emotions the same way Vash or Rem can. It makes it very difficult for him to relate to and connect with others. Especially Rem. He feels too wrong, too broken, too alien. But he's convinced himself that this is actually a superiority. So he can sleep at night. But he's far more human than he'll ever be willing to accept. The familial love he feels for Vash is the only thing that makes him feel normal. And it's why he clings to it so desperately. I think that feeling being explicitly familial makes the most sense for the story.

(cut for explicit talk of SA/CSA)

Im never one to dismiss bad actions from a fictional character. If I thought Knives was a sexual abuser, id say it. I even considered it before I watched/read Trigun and kept it in mind the whole time because of how prevalent of a take it is. If anything, I feel like theres more evidence for metaphorical depictions of Knives BEING sexually abused than being the sexual abuser. I mean his literal whole thing is how plants bodies are used and abused against their will. Solely for the humans gain. While it's slowly and painfully killing them. And how afraid he is that they'll do it to him too....😭 He would be absolutely HORRIFIED by SA. I just don't think it's an abuse he'd perpetuate. It goes against literally everything he stands for. I get he’s a hypocrite and all but I could just never see Knives of all people doing anything sexually ever. ESPECIALLY for his own pleasure.

Both Vash and Knives read to me as CSA victims. This would need to be a separate post all together because there is entirely just too much to say. But I feel very strongly about this interpretation and it's why I'm so firm on this. Sexual abuse is a huge theme in trigun OBVIOUSLY!! And Vash and Knives can easily represent different ways people cope with trauma like that. Knives gets angry, and bitter, and lashes out. While Vash shuts himself off, and tries to run away from it all. Two extremes from two brothers. Two sides of the same coin and all that. They've been victimized, I think it's the main reason why Knives would be so angry and distrustful of humans. Now I know Steve was kind of a throw away character from the anime- but I believe long term interpersonal abuse from a human early in life would explain a lot of the deep rooted hatred Knives has for humanity. Along with his hatred for Rem if she failed to protect them, and his deep sense of entitlement to protect Vash if Vash couldn't protect himself. (Tesla was the last straw for Knives bc at least for a while he thought he could trust Conrad till all that happened and he realized the only person he could ever trust was Vash, and that fear never really left him even 100+ years after.) (My interpretation of Conrads role is also a different post gerrrrr TOO MUCH TO SAY.)

Knives' ideology has always been inconsistent, I can easily see him disregarding autonomy in some ways but refusing to in others and never making a mental connection between the two. Plus Knives would think Vashes scars are shameful and disgusting. He probably cant even make himself look at him let alone touch him be so fr. Knives' definitely has an unhealthily attachment to Vash but not in a sexy sex or ROMANCE way 🤦‍♂️ ITS JUST HIS BPD YA’LL 😝‼️#favoriteperson #extremefearofabandonment #vashkeepsleavinghim (also another separate insane essay post) there is no argument here that Knives isn’t extremely bad at emotional regulation. Familial/platonic dynamics like that happen literally all the time it’s just not evidence of anything to me. I can't even see Knives directly punching someone let alone be capable of sexual violence against his own BROTHER ? I'd argue he's far more verbally/emotionally abusive than he ever is physically anyway. He doesn't even kill directly, it's always either done without a second thought by his powers, indirectly by starving the population out, or by making other people do it for him. He doesn't seem to actually enjoy seeing people in pain, more the satisfaction of a job well done. I don't see why this wouldn't apply to Vash too? He doesn't even usually initiate their physical fights. Vash does. (He has every right to, for the record. Knives just doesn't comprehend why Vash would be mad so he always tries to talk like everything is normal. Lol.) And when they are fighting he always puts his hand on his face ?? More annoying than a direct indication of violence. He could just punch him or something but he doesn't? Like violence in Trigun isn't a thing known to happen. Idk I think that's interesting and worth exploring a bit yk ???

Obviously he chopped his arm off I'm not saying he's innocent there either, just that he's more likely to be emotionally manipulative than explicitly interpersonally violent LOOLL. He didn't chop off his brothers arm because he enjoyed it, to him that pain is neutral. It was just a super casual reminder. But SEXUAL violence is completely different, sure it'll leave scars but you can heal from physical pain all day and night I mean commooon it barely even COUNTS as real pain. (Because he rarely has to experience it.) (A certain someone's got a major empathy problem.) And if it kills you it doesn't matter cuz you're already dead 😝!! But SA is different. It's his worst fear and greatest agony. It's something he knows sticks with you your whole life, he doesn't think that's a wound capable of being healed. (So he never tries and chooses to live in constant fear and anger instead.) That's how I see it anyway...🤕 Again it's not like he's a reasonable guy he is known to be a bit unstable idk if u knew...

Actually if anything, I think Vash would be the more interpersonally violent of the two. (Vashes abuse is always reactionary tho he would never act like that if Knives would just be normal lol he is not the aggressor here.) I can't see Knives punching Vash but I could VERY easily see Vash punching Knives ykwim ??? (For trimax anyway, ik kid Knives beats the shit out of him in 98 which I DO think is funny. But I don't accept into my personal canon okay LISTEN we are talking about a lot of conflicting characterizations here. JUST HEAR ME OUT. ✋) Knives never even really blames Vash for BLOWING HIS LEGS OFF in July too, which I always thought was so interesting. It makes me think this is actually a common thing for them to the point that they don't even argue about it outside of "are you actually aiming at me again 🙄?" Which is more bitchy than angry. Like ugh I can't believe you. Typical, typical Vash. 🥱 He'd probably use it as a way of proving to him that they are the same. And despite denying it, Vash would actually agree and feel a deep sense of shame abt it. He's had 150 years of pent up anger after all. He almost killed him with a rock once lol. I'm tired of everyone woobifying Vash as some kind of perpetual uwu victim. Vash is fucking mean sometimes. He is just as capable of violence as Knives is. The same way Knives is just as capable of great kindness. It is known that Vash is in fact physically STRONGER than Knives. (With his plant powers and id assume in general because Vash actually goes outside while Knives reads in his garden all day.) I truly believe that the only reason Knives ever wins the sibling fights is because of Vashes constant hesitance. He's not a battered wife stereotype. All Vash wants is control over his own life, the last thing he'd want to see himself as is a helpless victim. It's why he always pretends nothing is ever wrong with him. It's why he doesn't accept help, and values other people's problems far above his own. His kindness was always an active choice and that's why he's such a powerful character. And Knives would bring out the absolute worst in him LOOL all that work he's done to better himself is instantly thrown out the window the second Knives' very punchable face walks in the room.

He was fighting absolute demons not to run over and beat tf out of Knives in this panel

This is why I feel so disgusted by stampede and the way they handled their relationship. They've dumbed down these characters to the point that they are unrecognizable. Literally every aspect of stampedes portrayal of them feels like a first conclusion based on a synopsis of their goals and personalities. I get there's only one season but that's a LOT to fuck up in one season bro. 😭. There is absolutely no salvaging Nai as a character for me. I'd cover my drink around that guy I find him genuinely repulsive. At least with trimax, you can read around an initial sussy reading if you wanted. How anyone defends Nai, I don't even know. That whole plant insemination thing is pretty on the nose y'all. Literally doesn't even make sense for him to do that like? Why would he want more independent plants??? It's like they tried to make Knives' motivations make sense when the whole point should be that they don't. He's fighting ghosts out of fear. Stampede wasn't even good enough to justify its own existence by how it looks. Adding peculiar plant pregnancy preggo fetish incest bait is just the turd on the turd cake. They ruined the most compelling part of the story for me. Pfft.... But whatever...🚬 not like I care ....🚬

Not to mention Legato y'all don't even get me started. The guy that HATES humans more than anything in the world taking in a HUMAN -SEX TRAFFICKING VICTIM. The one time he's ever taken pity on a human being and it was someone who was the victim of a violent sex crime. Yeah guys that dude. Total raper. Defo a brother diddler. What the fuck are we talking about right now y'all. I genuinely feel like sexual violence would be the last thing knives would ever do ever. I understand that there are sus scenes in the manga that could be interpreted this way, but considering the many themes in Trigun and his place in the story as a whole, I think it is such a misrepresentation. And it frustrates me to see it as one of the only things talked about in regards of his character. If I could, I'd rewrite every scene in the world so people could understand what I see, but I can't. And I know I can't control how other people see the media I like. Trigun is extremely interpretive, and I understand why this is a common conclusion. But I guess I just can't shake the feeling that it's more complicated than that. I have criticisms with trimax and ESPECIALLY 98. And there's obvi a lot id change to fit what I'd find most interesting. (Also why every headcanon revolves around Knives somehow teehee) BUUUUUT I do think all of my analysis is pretty based in canon. I can't stress how insane I am about this and how much I've thought about it 🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕. Believe me, I've considered every obstacle. And I've stayed consistent.

Knives is a raper feels like the easy answer to me. To be completely blunt, it's just not as compelling. Vash and Knives would both have very complicated relationships with their bodies and sensualities and gender and their relation to their plantself and their humanself and blah blah blah whatever. I'd much rather explore that as a separate result of the same abuse than default to supercestsimulator69. Knives is already an abuser. Making him a sexual aggressor too doesn't really add anything to the story besides diminish and dumb down his very complex motivations. Vash and Knives should be very good friends who know each other better than anyone. (They are trauma bonded like CRAAAZZY, very codependent like y'all get it.) I think that would make their conflict SO much more interesting. While providing some great context to why Vash is so willing to give every horrible person he meets a second chance at life. If I saw my brother, who I love, and is my best friend in the whole wide world, slowly deteriorate under the pressure of the abuse we we're BOTH experiencing; go fucking crazy and kill everyone. And I KNEWW. He genuinely believed he was doing what he had to do to protect the both of us...I'd probably also give everyone the benefit of the doubt idk. Vash understanding Knives' motivations but still holding on to that (justified) resentment and anger is ESSENTIAAAL to their dynamic and also literally all of Trigun. Sexual abuse throws a rock in all of this. If anything I think Knives would tell Vash "I'm the only one who WOULDN'T assault you. They're human, they'll only see you for how useful you are. It's what they do. It's what you know they do. You're choosing them over me the same way Rem chose Steve over us." Knives' abuse is complicated and multifaceted, not just some gross display of power. He's not even the most power hungry character in the world. He's got a whole cult dedicated to him that he canonically IGNORES.

And he sure as shit doesn't respect people who are desperate for power over others!! He'd think he's above that too. Just more evidence of human deviance. (Like the scene in 98 where kid Vash and Knives are watching the humans fight over water. Animals who think one is more deserving of resources than the other.) He's narcissistic in the literal diagnosable sense but definitely not some kinda megalomaniac. I think that's a huge mischaracterization. He doesn't want to rule the world, he wants to destroy it. And he wants Vash to be his equal in this, he respects Vash. (as far as someone like Knives can respect anybody at all) He doesn't understand why Vash would choose to be so "dumb" because he's never allowed himself to feel the vulnerability of potential harm that Vash wants him to understand is worth it. It's why he locks himself away from the world, he's afraid of being victimized again. Knives' morals are all over the place, he genuinely doesn't think murder is bad but would consider sexual violence to be the worst thing anyone could ever do EVER. It's not like we're talking about the beacon of reason and consistency here y'all, Knives is cray cray sauce.

Anyway that's my thoughts, sorry this took forever to answer. 😿 And ended up being SOOO long.. I've on and off mauled over this writing and rewriting again trying to make any of my garbled thoughts make any sense. Hope it resonates with anybody at least bc I genuinely feel like I've been taking crazy pills lately LOOL. Take care of yourselves everyone. 💖 Never an easy subject to talk about.

[weirdcat1213]

Almost 3am trigun brianrot time! This is long so be prepared

Tldr: it's about my idea of trigun 98 being the body, stampede the mind and trimax the soul

Ok so I was thinking about how TF I'm gonna handle trimax for @vashsscoreboardofpain (follow that is gonna be funny) and then I remembered an idea for a master post I wanted to do. I still want to make it but sadly I'm not at a stable position rn to do so. Maybe one day. But I still wanted to put that idea cuz it's slowly taking more form

Now, when I mean X is Y I mean it in a "this version of trigun has everything yes, but highlights Y the most and I think that's neat." Also it applies for all the characters but tonight I'm gonna focus on vash cuz im a vash enjoyer first and a person second. Yes my favorite character is the main one sue me.

Anyway, let's go

Trigun 98 is the body and vash encapsulates this idea in an interesting way. Plant powers aren't really a thing in this version so he is more like a super human with a fucked up arm. This makes him the closes to humans he's ever gonna be. But even if he doesn't have powers on this one, it was his and knives' bodies the cause that one guy's fear (its 3am I don't remember). He's afraid of how fast they grow and how much they learn. 98 also highlights vash's body being like everyone else's. He gets hurt multiple times, he needs nurses and kind people to look after him. Not only during the eriks episode but also on the episode after he kills legato. He also shows vulnerability by getting so drunk he needs to really focus to aim. He needs food and water. 98 Vash is really the closest one to humanity than the other 2, but only because of his physical attributes. Only because of his body, which bring him trouble most of the time. His vulnerable body is the cause of his misery, but it also allowed him to get close to people

Stampede is the mind cuz yeah, they had a specific mind palace episode (which I loved I ate that shit right up) but also because it does give us an easier access to everyone's mental state. We get to see this vash speedrun so many psychological problems in 12 episodes and is not gonna slow down. We literally get to see the guilt and terrors that plague his mind and how his mental fortitude exists thanks to other people. Also if you notice it, people just diagnose him left and right on stampede. Roberto picks up the ED signs, most characters tell him he has a death wish, nai straight up tells him he's doing good things out of guilt and vash allows himself to think about his contradictions outloud in episode 12 and why does he do the things he does (something that would be a therapy exercise I wanna say). Stampede is the mind cuz everyone is getting retrospective

And finally, trimax is the soul because it has more time to dwell on the characters emotions than any other version will ever give us. Instead of straight up diagnosis, trimax will give us panels to show us how vash feels about a situation. Instead of showing vash hurt from the horrors done to his body, trimax will focus on his pain. On his eyes that refuse to look at his own terrifying body that we can see, but only he can feel. What I mean is trimax is designed to drown us with emotion. The other versions are emotional af too, but trimax has that raw emotion up its sleeve. Trimax does nor dwell on the multiple scars vash has or his many Many mental problems. It shows us how fucked up vash's thoughts are about his body and his sins and we get to say "ohhhh...oh no". Trimaxs emotion is so heavy to bear that the body nor the mind are still present, but in comparison to the soul, they aren't highlighted. People say eyes are the windows of the soul and honestly I feel like you can learn so much of vash just from looking at his eyes. Once you focus on his soul and emotions you just can't let go of the feeling that this man will be drowned by his own emotions. Both positive and negative.

I want to rewrite this one day. Fuck, I'm pretty sure I got the Google doc somewhere. But I also wanted to put that idea out there. Because this doesn't mean one version is better than the other. It means that they all highlight different parts but they all end up in the same conclusion: trigun is about connections and alienation and love and peace

And vash needing therapy. Desperately.

[radiation-risk]

Sudden Sickness - Chapter 2

Once again putting the TWs for disease and descriptions of wounds and effects of disease and uhh, a bit of blood for this one in specific.

a tag for @a-narcissists-warren

Airy fell asleep, staying in the cabin until morning, and still stayed inside for most of it. He didn’t feel much different, just the pain of the wound. It was still bleeding, but he had to go outside to go get a couple stems to wrap around the wound. Eventually, around the time the sun got above a lot of the trees, he stepped outside to take in fresh air.

Walking over to a plant he found with a wider leaf, he took a stem from another plant and a leaf from it, wrapping it around his arm. He winced as he tied the stem shut. It took some of the blood away, enough to keep it from dripping, but the pain was still there.

Walking over to the cave, Liam was discussing something with the contestants. Likely a reminder on how to function as people. Airy, walking in, stepped near the microphone and spoke.

“Hello contestants. I notice you all are discussing things. There is no competition for today, as I’ve gone through an… unfortunate circumstance.” The contestants cheered, free from another competition filled day.

Liam looked over to Airy. He was still cross about the night before, but not enough to not care for his well-being. “What even happened last night? I heard you grab the axe and walk outside. It was strange.”

“Because I… saw something. I went to go see what it was and got bit.”

Airy shuddered recalling the jaws of the beast and how they chomped into his arm, enough to cause it to bleed even now. The foam dripping from them didn’t even come to his mind.

“If you’re not worrying, I’m not either,” Liam sighed before walking off.

Airy mainly spent the day working on The Plane’s database, working on fleshing out the profiles of the contestants with notes. As well, he tried to make it look slightly nicer, although it barely even worked and for the most part made the database look worse.

As night fell, he lit a fire again and decided to keep it lit until it burned out in case the creature came back. He made sure the fire was smaller when he went to sleep, as not to set the surrounding woods on fire.

Whilst dreaming, he noticed a silver wolf in the corner. It had the same yellow eyes, still glaring at him. He was unnerved, but it never really interfered with the dream. It just sat there, watching, waiting. The thing it waited for never came as Airy woke up earlier than usual.

Airy went to gather reeds in the morning. Walking across the plank, he felt slightly uneasy, but not enough to waiver his cautious mind. Looking at the reeds, he picked all he would need for the day and went to look for food for the day.

Going on the usual trail, he noticed some scraps of fur on the ground, likely remnants of the creature’s hunting. Whatever it was, it was still scaring off prey, and with the coming wetness, it would be making things harder.

He still found his abundance of mushrooms and the few berries left. Walking back, he still felt worried about the wound. It had scarred up by then, but it didn’t feel like everything was right. It felt like it may have been infected. However, he brushed the feeling off and let the next few days come along.

[fatedstrands]

Legato and his Strands of Fate Headcannon Post

Here I will share a more in depth analysis of Legato and his Strands of Fate (simplified to Strands) and the complicated cult-like structure yet how it differs from a more radical view most see Cults as. (It is still a cult, just very lax.)

His Cult is half made up of innocents he's spared, bathed, clothed and reborn into the the Light of their God. He teaches them to fight, teaches them or pairs them with a master of a craft to learn and thrive and be useful.

The cult is NOT Christianity based. The only reason he has a rosary of sorts was it was a gift to him made of Nai's living metal. Instead of a cross it's the tree of life, a symbol of Nai's peaceful room on the SEEDs ship and Legato's precious journey from seedling he'd sewn to the broad tree bringing life to the Strands. If I had to stick them roughly into a few boxes it'd be loosely Satanic and Pagan, very spiritual, all about rituals of some sort (not often sacrifices usually feasts or sex acts depending).

He calls his members strands after a few things, the strands of metal that give him power and the strands of Fate woven by their God, hence the cult being known as 'The Strands of Fate'.

The 'Sisters of Fate' are the other sex slaves saved on the day Nai had come into his life by the guide of the Fates, standing as the highest if only because they learned so much under both Nai and Legato's care to continue the skills down the generations and newer members.

Legato will usually do his sermons in a padded little booth of his, broadcasting over the planet to reach as many of his many Strands as he can.

They don't go through baptisms per se, but rather 'Cleansings'. These can be anything from being dunked into water, branded, tattooed, pampered, told sweet nothings from just Legato or from several of the elder Strands, to even just a feast in their name. Cleansings are NOT mandatory, but an offering for the lost to shed their pain in a way they deem fit so they can now begin to move on.

Once you join, you are NOT obligated to remain. You can leave whenever you see fit. If you feel the group is not for you, that's alright.

You do NOT have to believe the more radical views of Legato and the Sisters of Fate, the only rule is that you Respect Plants as if they were your own Kin and NEVER run them Red.

Most of the Strands live off of the land rather than using Plant power. When they do need to they thank the Plants for aiding them in this world, Legato specifically apologizes for being a 'disgraceful mongrel to need to take from them'.

They do their best to propagate anything given to them, keeping seeds from food to then plant and cultivate where they can.

There is a major compound hidden out in the sand where they'd salvaged six Plants and cultivated their own small sliver of Paradise with both their hard work and the aid of the Plants that watch over them. This is where most Strands find themselves.

If he feels a Strand was meant to die and he prevented such to happen, or he disappoints Nai (often also used as a way to silence the chaos in his mind from the strands of metal in his brain) he will cause himself undue pain. Often with red hot metals, sometimes blades and he even has an old cat-o-nine. It's one reason he has the body covered in Plant line scars burned into his flesh. Pain is familiar, it's comfortable to him, thus it is used in many aspects of his life as a gift and punishment.

The small child skull he has on his left upper arm was one of his Strands birthed from one of the Sisters of Fate who died too young due to an attack. Their last words were 'Please, never let me cease walking'. the skull was taken once the child passed, carved to fit Legato's arm and reinforced by Nai's living metal so that, as long as they do, the child too shall walk.

The beast skull on the right arm was from the sand creature that had tried to strike the small group not long after he'd been saved by the God. He wasted no time, throwing his body and power into striking the pack that tried to take his Sisters from him. He'd been bitten in that shoulder, the arm nearly ripped from him before he stared the beast in the eye and struck it down without mercy. It's skull is now mounted on his shoulder as evidence of his power and willingness to defend the weak even with his body.

[firstaidspray]

Gloria time!

What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC?

How does your OC talk/what does your OC’s voice sound like?

What was your OC’s childhood like?

What is your OC’s level of education?

What is your OC’s favorite food?

What is your OC’s favorite kind of music (and song if there is one)?

What is a notable physical attribute of your oc?

The freckles/scars from picking on the sides of her cheeks, her notable body hair (mostly arms in normal circumstances- the only people who really see anything else, which would be under her clothes, are Blondie and herself), and her dark brown eyes that are almost black. Blondie actually notes the last one specifically when he describes his first meeting with Gloria.

How does your oc talk/what does your oc's voice sound like?

Gloria is highly nonverbal. If she does talk, it's in short phrases and singular words. Only when there's something super important to say will she talk in full, eloquent sentences. Blondie is a pretty nonverbal guy himself, so the two communicating through little pieces isn't a problem. Even if Blondie does talk in longer, normal conversation, he's understanding of Gloria's way of speaking. Her voice sounds like mine does right about now- my voice but super raspy. (I had surgery and the intubation made my voice scratchy. I wish I sounded like this all the time tbh it's sexy)

What was your oc's childhood like?

Well, there's the Trauma that kind of causes her to do What She Does (the killing and such), but otherwise pretty normal and quiet. She grew up on a ranch with her parents, grandparents, and brother, as well as a cousin who died pretty young so she doesn't remember him much. Gloria was very studious and enjoyed learning about various subjects, particularly science. She'd observe the world around her- the animals, plants, environment. When someone in the family was sick, she liked to observe their condition. A lot of other kids thought she was weird for being quiet and "creepy" and some of them were racist/xenophobic so she had pretty much no friends.

What is your oc's level of education?

So, Gloria was a nurse who cared for the wounded in the Civil War, but she wasn't educated under Dorothea Dix's standards. She wasn't 35 and sure as hell wasn't plain looking, as Dix apparently wanted in a nurse, so her education came from "nurse" nuns in the Catholic Church she grew up in. She was only allowed to treat soldiers because of the lack of caretakers in their area. She did, however, use her acquired medical knowledge over the years, caretaking experience while volunteering with the nuns, and some stolen education material standardized by Dix that she got her hands on while working in the military. So I'd say she has that for her education.

What is your oc's favorite food?

Fry bread!! It was a staple in one of the cultures that comprises her multicultural/racial heritage. She eventually makes some for Blondie and he loves it, topping it with honey. (I've only had it, plain, a couple of times when my brother made it, it's super good!! And. Before anyone asks I am, like Gloria, half Indigenous, so I chose a dish of one of my cultures that I personally enjoy and was around in this era. Many Indigenous chefs have complicated feelings on it, but it's chosen in this case for the purpose of historical accuracy, not modern symbolism. Also, it tastes good.)

What is your oc's favorite kind of music (and song if there is one)?

Anything Blondie plays on the guitar for her. Lol. Ranging from well-known songs to things he's personally written or just plays by ear. There's one he plays pretty frequently that he "just made up" but he secretly wrote it about her. She knows this, so that's her favorite.

Thank you for asking!!! 💕💕💕

[rxbelling-hxrald]

Two sides of the same coin

M!A activated from here

For a brief moment everything would fall out of focus, becoming blank as the mind became increasingly dizzy before the demon-hog collapsed on the ground. Yet this feeling of weakness would not linger for long as senses came back to normal....if not better? As if he were lighter, not feeling the usual mental weight.

What was happening? “Ughh, What was that?” Dan would begin to question himself before.....

“I was asking myself the same question!” A sudden fierce grip tightening around his neck before being pushed against one of the nearby trees, the attacker was....himself? “Alright, Who are you!? One of those mimics? I don’t need any imposters!” The lookalike would exclaim, raising their spare arm as if readying to finish the job.

“I’m.....ack....” It was difficult to even begin to breathe as that grip against his throat was not easing up in the slightest. He needed to get out of this! As he’d begin to flick a hand to begin stirring the shadows below. “Dan.....who...”

“No! I’m Dan! Omen is my codename, a pretty cool one if I do say so myself. You on the other hand is someone trying to pretend to be me, aren’t you!?”

“Why....would anyone, wanna pretend...” Before flicking that hand forward, causing a barrage of shadows to come forth and push the lookalike away from him, finally releasing his throat. “Ahhhh, Haaaa.....Ok this is really freaky...”

After being pushed back and promptly rolling out the way, the other grinned. “Not bad, You even have my technique! This is gonna be fun!” As he started advancing, ready for a fight.

“No, Cmon! Time out! I’m just as confused as you are right now!” He’d try to reason quickly before a brawl started. “Wouldn’t you rather find out what’s happening?”

“Hmph, I admit I’m curious but I have work to do and I’d rather not take the risk. Sides, You don’t even have the specifics down, its just a trick! It has to be!”

Now actually taking a moment to observe them, this ‘variation’? Had that demonic arm alright, a few scars, some that were usually hidden by the fur? And then himself? He no longer had the mutation? What kind of magic trick was doing this? Never mind that right now he needed to convince the double that they were on the same side.

“I swear its not a trick! I’m Dan! I arrived after narrowly escaping the demon realm by accident as I made my last stand in that place, I spent weeks in hiding afterwards because I was scared of the new scenery, colors, plants, the mobians themselves. No idea if the rest of em were following me. it was all terrifying right?”

“I wasn’t scared, I was simply collecting myself....” Finally pausing in their tracks at the familiar sounding story, though clearly wanting to hold onto his pride as he was no longer that person!

“Yeah sure whatever, then I...or we eventually met some of the locals. Like Voltage and Harmony? Tails built this device for us?” Pulling back the left sleeve of his coat to reveal that trusty coordinate navigator and communication device. “We went around and did a few things we weren’t proud of?”

The other would do the same motion, seeing that exact same device and becoming slightly more convinced, still wary of course! But at least he was no longer trying to walk over to start some sort of deathmatch. “Hey! Their laws are still stupid really, if it wasn’t for me, this place probably would have been annihilated already and then they’d see there’s no point for laws, we did what we did only for survival! There’s nothing wrong with that....Still I guess I did probably upset some people.”

“Skipping forward a bit, that arm, I did have it before this....I swear, but I know how it happened. Before we locked up the portals there was an invasion wasn’t there? You fought with another creation of our father.”

“DON’T CALL THAT BASTARD A FATHER!”

“Ok! Ok! HIM, It was created by HIM....In an attempt to surpass us, It was a difficult fight, but you impaled them with that arm didn’t you? We thought we were immune to the corroding effects but it turns out too much of that energy, was too much even for us....we felt stronger, but the arm turned into that which we...”

“BLAH BLAH BLAH! I don’t wanna hear my autobiography! I guess I believe you.”

“Oh thank goodness....” Sighing in relief, believing he’d dodged a bullet. A fight with himself sounded very distressing.

“Either way, someone’s bound to be responsible for this mess so I’m going out there to find out who!”

“Wait no, We need to stick together until we know what’s happening, what if something happened to you?”

“Like anything would happen to me, I’m among the most powerful in any realm! No one here can manage a demon! They all think they can, but they’re outclassed.....if you wanna sit back and waste time thinking, go ahead. I’m finding answers....and maybe a little fun.” And without a warning the brash copy of himself would rush off at high speed into the distance.

“Great.” Dan would sarcastically groan. “...I’m so annoying...”

[moseslikellamas]

Cinders in the Dark

Chapter fifteen

Pairing - Benjicot Blackwood x Whent!OC

Summary - Lucinda talks with the witch in the tall tower. Benjicot dances around the lord Paramount.

Warnings - Magic, delusions, trickery, frightening imagery, forced marriage, mentions of death, blood, mention of suicidal ideation,depiction of burns, depictions of panic attack, anxious thoughts, grief, violent fantasies, not canon, Kieran Burton fancast.

Word count - 2k

More setup but its going somewhere soon

The halls were dark as she made her way towards the witch in the tall tower. But she was oddly comforted by the soft glow cast by her lone torch. She felt free in a way she never had before. There was no duty or pressure of honor hanging over her, only the determination to right a wrong. She was not quite righteous but felt a burgeoning sense of purpose starting to fill the empty corners of her life. All of her life she had been tossed around helpless to the winds of destiny. But she’d been to the afterlife, she’d seen the grave beneath the waves waiting for her. She was not afraid of death, it might be the only small mercy she was granted in this life. She no longer had any ties to this life, her entire family dead and in the ground. Or somewhere worse her mind whispered but she pushed that thought away. The important thing was, she was unencumbered, free to do as she pleased.

The tall tower was alive with lights and smells. Jasmine and clover hung around her head as she climbed the stairs to the room at the top where she knew the witch was waiting. A childlike wonder stole over her for a moment as she watched the woman work, an interloper in the doorway. Dressed in a navy dress and wearing a brown apron over top, she was mixing something together in a bowl. Occasionally she would chop something or move to grind another ingredient. Lucinda felt a pang of loneliness wash over her. She could not remember the last time she spoke to someone who was not her most hated husband or a ghost from beyond time.

“It’s bad luck to linger in the threshold. And you my dear need all the luck you can get.”

Startled at her voice she jerked back before relaxing again. Shy and wary, she moved into the witch’s workshop, taking care not to bump into the various hanging plants that were drying out. It was so warm inside the room, the fire was lit low despite the heat. Mostly, she was comfortable, in a way she hadn’t been maybe since her mother died all those years ago. A flutter of wings against the windowsill caused her to jump again. A pretty barn owl rested there, its dark eyes staring at her.

“How’d you do it?” She blurted out, her gaze shifting to the woman still mixing ingredients together.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, I am quite the busybody.”

Lucinda swallowed, rubbing her sweaty palm on her gown. She was out of her depth. But when have I ever been in control? She thought, trying to build up her courage.

“The fire in the entrance was lit. How did you do it?” Her curiosity was winning out over her fear as she pressed closer towards the table she was working at.

“That’s not what you mean though is it? Why don’t we speak plainly at last.”

The witch abruptly set down the pestle she was holding, her gaze sharp enough to cut her down. Letting go off her hesitation, Lucinda took the plunge.

“I want to know what you know about fire magic. I don’t know where our new house guest has gotten off to but I want to be rid of him.” She paused then as a wave of rage poured over her at the thought of her wonderful husband. The man who caused all of her problems. “He’s done something to me. I cannot leave this place and yet I am hardly here.”

Lucinda gazed at her burned sword arm, flexing the scarred fingers. She could feel the fire there smoldering under her skin. The tissue was just a paper thin covering, inside she was ash.

“Nothing new there, love.” A sharp chop of her knife accentuated her words. “Plenty of people aren’t here. I’m not here either, it's easy to be nowhere. Harder to be somewhere. So where do you want to be?”

Where did she want to be? On a boat sailing across the narrow sea. She wanted to feel the spray of the sea on her face. To hear the birds cry in the wind and feel the rope against her palms. She wouldn’t be lady anyone, just another nameless wench. She’d learn to fight, cuss and drink with the best of them. At night they’d gather below deck and tell stories while the waves rocked them to sleep. The only thing she’d have to worry about was raising the sails and washing the deck. Her skin would tan under the sun and she’d gain new scars with real stories behind them. She’d be no one beyond crewmate, friend, lover.

“You’re not here again. See, I told you it’s harder to be somewhere.”

Lucinda looked back at the woman, shaking her head. A stupid thought, an unattainable dream. Back like a long lost friend, fury wrapped around her. It was the cloak to match her crown of anguish.

“I want to kill my husband. That’s where I want to be, a widow.”

That was close enough to her dream. After all she wouldn’t be sailing the high seas a married lady, would she? Their separation was never a question whether in fantasy or reality.

The woman laughed at that, a real and genuine sound. It warmed Lucinda from the inside out, quelling some of her overwhelming emotions. She took a deep breath gathering herself while the woman wiped her eyes.

“Aye, I reckon many a woman has wished for the same. Certainly for less of a man than the one you’ve managed to land.”

Lucinda scrunched her face at her phrasing. She hadn’t landed anything, he’d stolen into her life. The rotten thief he was, murderer and worse.

“So, can you help me?”

She watched the woman take her robe off. Her concoction apparently complete, she wiped her hands clean. Then she walked over to join her on the other side of the table.

Looping their arms together she said, “We’re going to find out.”

***

The gods were on his side, Benjicot thought gleefully. Only four nights had passed before the raven arrived carrying the news. It heralded in what the realm had held its breath to hear, long may the Queen reign. It had taken everything in him not to pump his fist in the air and scream victoriously when the news was announced. They’d been at dinner when it came, a rather dramatic hour in his opinion. But perhaps that had been the intended effect. Lord Tully had cast his eyes towards Benjicot’s after reading the announcement. His eyes were hard and searching, watching for his reaction. Benjicot had been at ease, calmly sipping his wine. But on the inside he was bathed in the blood of glory and he reveled the thought of steel against steel. He knew Elmo was on to by any means and he wished for a moment he had brought Robb with him. A damned good archer but he was better at putting people at ease. Something Benjicot struggled with at times.

Letters bearing the Targaryen seal had arrived at every castle in the realm. Lord Elmo seemed to think they might get off without a war but Benjicot knew that wouldn’t happen. If anything he was working to ensure it wouldn’t. He itched to get on Antares and head back to Harrenhal but he resisted. It wouldn’t paint him in a more favorable light if he went galloping off at the first sign of news. No, he needed to wait a bit. See if anything stirred up in the meantime. He had taken to spending his days in the training yard. Benjicot, Oscar and Kermit became nearly inseparable. They rose together at dawn, spent their days working together and would blow off steam at the taverns at night. It was slow work, building trust. As much as he loathed to waste the time he could be spending elsewhere, he enjoyed spending time with them.

All riverland boys meet and spend time together at some point. But Benjicot had been out of the public eye for a long while, having left to oversee Raventree when his father died. The last time he had seen Oscar they were both still babies hardly old enough to hold a proper training sword. Oaths were good, strong and solid foundations to start on. They were all rivermen, and house Blackwood was sworn to house Tully. But real loyalty came in friendship, in brotherhood. It came in the matching scars and blood spilt over the grass. He always strove to make genuine connections with people. Some people were just more open to the idea than others. And Elmo’s sons were open enough to a bannerman.

“How is your new wife, Benjicot? Shame she could not attend with you.”

Elmo’s gravelly voice pulled him out of his introspective thoughts. He blinked, shrugging. “What man can confess to knowing the ways of women? She’s obstinate, if nothing else, wouldn’t dream of accompanying me.”

The half truth rolled over his tongue smooth as silk.

“That’s too bad. My wife and I are both waiting most anxiously to meet the reclusive woman. You’ll have to persuade her on your next visit.”

Despite his best efforts he couldn’t stop the way his fingers clenched around his goblet. His tome implied he didn’t believe Benjicot at all.

“I assure you, I will do my best.”

“You’re sure, even if I wrote to her, she wouldn’t show up?”

At that a tiny smirk made its way onto his face for the briefest of moments before he could wipe it off. “No and by all means,” he waved his hand at the lord. “Write to her. I would love for someone to talk some sense into the woman.”

He could write to her until he ran out of birds to send. No one would be writing back from the black stone walls of Harrenhal. The lord Paramount seemed to be mulling over his confidence. Benjicot knew he was trying to piece it all together in his head and if he had faith in anyone to figure him out, it was the red headed lord in front of him. His ever watchful eyes missed nothing even from someone as good at hiding their emotions as Benjicot was.

The prying lord didn’t bother him too much. Problems would arise when Elmo started taking actions against him. Until then he could deal with suspicion and mistrust. It didn’t matter to him if the war broke out or not really. It was a useful tool in his arsenal of tactics to help bring about the rightful order of things. But if the realm accepted the queen no questions asked, well he would work with what he had at his disposal. He could work up another invitation to court and take a more direct route if necessary. Though with his wife missing it would make that plan a lot harder.

“Aye and if you talk to her like that I can see why she would rather be left behind. You can’t be all rocks and mud to your wife.”

Benjicot knew he had a point there. But his darling wife had not liked him from the jump. He had half a mind to think that she hated men on principle if he hadn’t seen her speak softly with the guards around the castle. He hadn’t exactly spent his time trying to win her over.

“Any useful advice on stubborn women?”

“A patient man.”

Benjicot raised his glass in a toast. He was plenty patient enough.

[jemichi90]

Oh boy, I guess we are talking about this now. That’s a lot to unpack and definitely one of those things I can’t interpret with much confidence...

What re-l is saying is 100% a fact though. This specific scene is clearly happening inside the mind of Vash. We’ve seen such scenes a number of times, and the way he views himself in his inner world isn’t always exactly the way he appears in reality. As re-l pointed out, he has both of his arms here and at least you can’t see any scars on him (although, obviously it would be hard to see if he does or doesn’t have them when he looks like this, but the arm is enough to tell this is happening in his mind). Based on his dreams, Vash normally views himself like this:

He has both of his arms and no scars. But one very obvious thing is different compared to that first image, and now we are entering the territory of speculation and theories...

Since both images are how Vash views himself, the big difference comes from him remembering July and what happened there. The simple explanation would be that the memory makes him feel like a monster - his arm specifically, since it was his angel arm that caused the disaster. He’s literally tearing into his arm (makes me wonder if the big scar around his arm was his own doing - like immediately after the destruction of July...)

Just destroying a city and killing the citizens would be reason enough for someone to feel like a monster, but it may be even more disturbing.

Both Vash and Knives have the ability to “make people vanish without a trace”. From the flashback about the final moments of July, we can see that the people were swallowed by a “black hole” - or something similar to that. Even before Stampede made it a thing, I already wondered if it was a portal between different dimensions. Maybe Plants don’t simply transform energy into material, and what they create actually comes from somewhere else.. Anyway, that’s not the point here. The point is that no matter what happened to those people, from Vash’s point of view he CONSUMED them. If you had to live with the thought that you accidentally “ate” your friends, you’d feel like a monster too. And maybe, in a dark way, those people became a part of him...  And that’s the idea I got when I saw all the disfigured body parts and not-quite-faces on the arm of the Vash that exists inside his own mind world. Especially when he spends that whole page apologizing. It’s a disturbing visual about a disturbing situation. Whether my interpretation of it is right or not, the symbolism and the visual poetry are incredible - and dark.

On a more literal level though, having multiple bodies and random body parts is perfectly normal for a Plant, and their ability seems to allow them to temporarily rearrange parts of their own bodies, as well as grow new limbs - such as wings.

Knives had mastered rearranging his body and he could control the shape and size of whatever extension to his body he wanted to create. Even Vash - when he was in control of his own powers - could change the appearance and function of his angel arm to suit his needs.

And the angel arm itself appears to be made from extra bodies / body parts, so it’s not that different from the grotesque body horror imagery seen in the first image. In that one the extra body parts are just out of control and not organized like in the angel arm.

So, to summarize: the Plant biology and powers can already explain the body horror images, but I do think that the specific example is more symbolic and only reflects how Vash views himself and his powers because of the destruction of July.

so like, i know we're all into that kind of cute fuzz-ball angel vash, and i get it, i really do, but do you know what we don't talk enough about?

like, i'm just so much more interested in this. thematically. aesthetically. conceptually. like what's even going on here? i don't know, i just need more of this

vash and knives are not just humans with super powers. that's not what independents are. the are not at all human. they are alien in ways we can't even understand. like the above image is inherently gross and unsettling, that's just how humans have evolved to interpret something like this. and i just think that it's interesting that we as viewers eventually must come to terms with the fact that our silly goofy protagonist that we've been cheering for this whole time is really very inhuman in ways that we are naturally averse to.

(credit to @trigun-manga-overhaul for the image!)

[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Things That Make Them Melt

Bakugo:

Bakugo always seems to cool off when you touch his torso in any way, especially when your hands touch his chest. Whether it's walking up behind him to wrap your arms around him, or drawing hearts on his pecks while in a hug, it makes him absolutely melt.

Midoryia:

Midoryia isn''t hard to please. Usually a surprise, gentle kiss on the cheek or rubbing your thumb over his while holding hands will suffice.

Kaminari:

Kaminari likes a bit of spark in his life, so you like to sneak up behind him and nip at the back of his neck, or give his shoulder blade a sweet kiss, along with a saucy scratch down his back.

Sero:

Sero would never admit it, but the most sensitive area on his body, other than the obvious ones, of course, are his elbows. The indentions in them to be exact. It absolutely reduces him to mush when the two of you are chatting during a cuddle and you suddenly begin to trace circles around the edge of his elbows.

Iida:

Much like Sero, Iida's mutation is incredibly sensitive. He, for whatever reason, loves to brush your hair. Once, after an agreement, you allowed him to brush your hair, and while you sat between his legs, you hummed softly while tracing the rim of one of the exhaust pipes of his left engine, causing him to shiver and blush. Now, this is how you make up after every fight.

Sato:

Sato likes for you to feed him. Especially on dates, he loves it when you feed him while the two of you share a slice of cake or a bowl of ice cream.

Tokoyami:

Tokoyami, though he'd never admit it, loves to have you pet his beak, specifically, where it meets his feathers. It always makes him melt, without fail.

Kirishima:

Kiri likes having you sit in his lap and trace his muscles. Sometimes he activates his quirk so you can trace the ridges of his rough skin, which always makes you giggle, and there is nothing that melts him faster than hearing you laugh.

Todoroki:

Todoraki can never keep from blushing when you are alone with him, especially when is feeling down about his past, and you plant the most gentle kiss you can on his scar.

Mineta:

Mineta, obviously being the pervert that he is, likes laying in you lap and nuzzling you thighs.

Shoji:

Nothing makes Shoji melt more that when, while talking with his arm, you kiss the pair of lips before he can have a chance to morph them into something else.

Tamaki:

Tamaki may be incredibly shy, meaning most things most him blush but nothing melts him quite like a nice, old fashioned hickie, or rather the making of one. He loves to feel your lips, tongue, or teeth on the side of his neck, specifically on his right side.

Mirio:

He's not sure why, but Mirio really loves to have you play with his hair. Anything from running your fingers through it, to massaging his scalp will do. As long as your touching it.

Ojiro:

Ojiro likes to have you play with his tail, obviously. Whether it's twirling your fingers in the tuft of hair at the end, or slowly stroking it with your fingertips during a steamy make out session, he is all for it!

Shinso:

Shinso likes when you nuzzle his neck, like a cat, or when you allow him to fall asleep in your lap.

Tetsutetsu:

Tetsutetsu loves when you squeeze his arms, especially in public, when your walking with arms linked, and you give his bicep a sneeze and giggle at how firm it is. He melts knowing you think his physical strength is attractive.

[ragingbookdragon]

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger

Kotallo x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.1K Warnings: None

Author's Note: I finally had time to sit down and write! This week has been hectic so far! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She’d been rereading the ancient texts she’d found years before in the Old-World military bunkers she’d explored, stories of science fiction and fantasy, post-apocalyptic earth ravaged by wild storms and evolved creatures or mythic battles with magic and great winged beasts, when she heard it. Some parts she had to fill in herself as the years had either weathered away the pages of the physical book or the digital data had been corrupted, but for the most part, she had full texts to read. But the first few times, it caused her to shift her gaze towards the open area of the bunks, after the fifth, she clicked off her Focus and frowned, leaning towards the sheet she’d drawn up over her area to listen closer; a quiet, almost imperceivable grunt sounded from the bunk next to hers, Kotallo’s to be exact.

“GAIA,” she murmured, “What time is it right now?”

The AI took a moment to respond through her Focus. “It is currently zero-two-hundred hours.”

“Thank you, GAIA.” Rising from her bed, she bypassed the sheet and shuffled into Kotallo’s, gazing at him sitting up against the wall with his feet on the floor, eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched, and fist curled in his lap. “Your arm bothering you?”

He merely nodded, too focused on withstanding the pain to answer.

She disappeared back into her bunk, only to return with a lantern and her medical kit. “Let me look at it,” she said, taking a seat near the top of his bunk, her right leg in towards her and laying her left over his lap. She set the lantern on the small table and gently unwound the blue bandage he had wrapped around the stub of his arm. “It doesn’t look infected,” she noted, carefully examining it. “Is there something that hurts specifically?”

Kotallo kept his eyes shut, but he muttered, “I can feel my fingers flexing but they aren’t there.”

“Phantom pain,” she acknowledged. “My grandfather used to feel something similar.” Considerate to not cause any more pain, she slowly urged him to lift what much he could and look around. “The cauterizing and stitching are healing well.” She couldn’t help but trace the most prominent scar forming, jagged and still angry looking; reaching into her pack, she pulled out a thin strip of bark. “Chew on that for a few minutes.”

At that, he opened his eyes and looked down. “What is that?”

“Willow bark. It’ll help with the pain.” She handed it to him and then reached into her pack again, pulling out a small, flat vial about the size of her palm. Opening it, she poured some onto her palm and set the vial down before rubbing her hands together.

“That scent is overwhelmingly powerful,” Kotallo noted, and the corner of her lips quirked up for a moment.

“Plant oil mixtures.” She carefully smoothed her palms and fingers over the stub of his arm. “Won’t fix the pain forever, but it should dull it for a while.” Quietly, she said, “I know your arm is a touchy subject, so thank you for letting me help you, Kotallo.”

He exhaled through his nose and let his head fall back against the wall. “I don’t understand it.”

“What?”

“Some days I wake up and it doesn’t bother me. I don’t feel like my worth is attached to it. Other days I wake up and all I feel is shame. The whispers and stares, the outright scrutiny I bear.”

She nodded, running her thumb up over his shoulder. “As a Marshal of the Tenakth, you will bear it until the day you take your last breath. But you need to remember that your honor and respect aren’t tied to this.” Leaning over into his line of sight, she caught his eyes. “Those that view you as somehow less than respectable or honorable are naïve to truth and are blinded into believing that their worth is somehow measurable by their bodies.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his collarbone. “And you, Kotallo, are someone whose worth hasn’t been taken from him in any form or fashion.”

He simply gazed at her, reaching up to softly touch her face, calloused fingers brushing over smooth skin. “How you just explain it all away. Like it’s easy.”

Giving him a humored hum, she replied, “How about I explain this in a way you’ll understand? What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and also gives you a very dark, very sick sense of humor.”

Kotallo snorted and cupped her cheek, bending down to press a kiss to her lips. “Very understandable and true,” he murmured against her.

“I’m anything if not good at explaining things in simplistic terms,” she grinned, pecking his lips once, twice, then a third time before pulling away to wipe her hands on her dark pants. “How’s the arm feeling?”

“Better, but still sore. I have a clean wrap in that box over there,” he said, nodding at it.

She frowned and shook her head. “I think you should let it breathe for a while. You keep the wrap tight all the time, half of my mind tells me that’s why you find pain quite often. Let it heal some more before wrapping it up again.” When she saw the argument brewing, she added, “At least when you rest, let it breathe.”

He sighed, finally nodding. “Alright. While I rest.”

“Good,” she affirmed, standing up, though she stumbled a bit from the feeling gone lost in her right leg. Kotallo’s hand shot out and grabbed her, keeping her steady and she put a hand on his shoulder with a quiet laugh. “Thanks for the catch. I hadn’t realized it’d gone to sleep so fast.”

“You’re welcome.”

Once feeling returned, she pulled away. “Are you going to be able to sleep?”

He shrugged. “Probably not. I’m not tired anymore.”

“I’d been reading earlier. Some Old-World stories I’d collected from military bunkers.” She gave him a hopeful look and offered, “I can read one…if you want to listen?”

Kotallo glanced at her, giving her a calm smile. “I think I would enjoy that greatly.”

Returning a smile of her own, she watched as Kotallo shifted, sitting up against the wall with his legs outstretched on the bunk, opened slightly, and she crawled between them, tapping her Focus. “Have a blanket?”

“End of the bunk,” he replied.

She grabbed it, laying it over the two of them, and started reading, “The average life expectancy for a Hell Diver was fifteen jumps. This was Xavier Rodriguez’s ninety-sixth, and he was about to do it with a hangover…”

[social-muffin]

I shall honor my own ocs as well! :3

There are 4 or 5 ocs I will reblog this for (if this reblog gets any interaction/questions that aren't mind I mean), but for now I shall start slow with Hibari Kyoya's Adoptive father! :D

Under the Read More! Cause this got long uwu;

General Questions!

What is their name? Their pronouns? Age? Gender identity? Sexuality? (if any of that matters lmao)

His name is Kusakabe Sora. He uses he/him pronouns. He's 46 years old. Cis man. Straight and aromantic.

Are they somehow related to another khr character? In what way?

Sora is Tetsuya's (Hibari's right hand man) biological father. Fully blood related!

What does your oc look like? Do you have any art of them? Picrew also welcomed! Ai art... Not preferred >:/

Am no artists and couldn't find the iconic hairdo in a picrew, so!!! This is Sora when he had a slow day and with his hair down.

Sora is Tetsuya's Bio dad and Kyoya's Adoptive dad. That adoption was a very illegal thing that happened btw. Legally speaking, Hibari Kyoya is an orphan. Sometimes I like to ship Sora with Tsuyoshi or Nana. Sometimes with a grown up Viper instead.

He has long black hair thats usually up in a pompadour, sad brown eyes, sharp features, a few little, visible scars and a sweet paternal smile :3

What are their relationships to other khr characters? Pairings you like with your oc? Adopted siblings and parents maybe?

Actually what's the family situation of your oc? Do they have siblings that's are background characters perhaps?

Sora is a single dad with no family to speak of, which is why the adoption ended up happening illegally. He works as an Olympic coach for a family friend, Sasagawa Saru so he has to travel frequently, which gives his kids free reign of his mansion. (not good)

Does your oc have a mental illness? Neurodivergencies? Other disabilities? At what age did they get these disabilities if they weren't born with them?

Born with: Sora has a case of Misophonia, or just unusual noise sensitivity so he likes his quiet. (Same disability as Kyoya actually, just Sora can't stand noises past a certain volume and Kyoya can't stand things like overlapping conversations)

Age 10: Sora had a bad posture ever since he was a young child, nowadays he has to wear special soles in his shoes or he ends up with severe lower back pains.

Age 15-30: worked in the Hibari Clan for some years, which gave him anxiety and mild ptsd, he's medicated and in therapy

If they had a super power what would it be?

Sora would pick teleportation and/or super strength so he could keep up with Kyoya better! As in, properly keep track of what his kids get up to.

Free Space! [Anything else you want to talk about?]

Kusakabe Sora is mixed chinese and japanese. Born and raised in China until the death of his girlfriend forced him to escape the Hibari Clan with their son. He used a favor with the Triads to safely get them hidden in Namimori. At the start of the anime, he's fluent in Japanese, English and several Chinese dialects! Mandarin, Cantonese, Wu and Xiang to name a few! Post Canon, when he realizes his kids will likely have to learn Italian, he picks that up as well.

Khr specific Questions!

What's their flames? And how many flames do they have?

Sora is a stormy Sun! His sun flames are also tinted with a hint of lightning. As in, Lightning flames aren't his secondary, he just grew up around someone that had strong lightning flames and, with time and frequent harmonizing, they bled over into him a little. His girlfriend was that lightning. His storm is also starting to tint a little cloudy from frequent Kyoya-exposure.

How do they use their flames?

Sora fights using his storm flames in his fists/weapons and his sun flames in his arms and legs to boost his speed a little. He also makes an effort to use his flames recreationally a lot. As in he puts sun in his cooking, brushes his flames over the plants and kids he cares for and uses his storm flame to clear up pimples and such. He wants to set a good example for his kids that flames aren't just weapons they can wield. Flames can be so pretty.

If they don't have a flame, how do they fight? Do they fight at all?

Sora does fight when people threaten him, his friends, family, or innocent bystanders. But he prefers to keep fights down to brief bouts of brutality. Sora is absolutely the type to shoot a monologuing villain in the head.

If Sora can't win a fight against someone, his instinct is to retreat, regroup and get the hell out of the situation. Something like honor or pride is not worth his life.

If they can't fight for any reason, what's their preferred method of self defense?

Free space! [insert any khr specific question you want!]

Sora fights with anything he can get his hands on. He's a decent marksman when it comes to revolvers and handguns but anything larger is intimidating. He would probably use a shotgun as a club instead of just shooting it, because he doesn't trust himself. If he has a knife he goes stab, if he has a sword... He still goes stab. If he has no weapons he punches and kicks. Pretty simple approach to violence.

Khr Character Questions!

How much does Tsuna want to protect your oc upon first meeting them? After knowing them a minute, is Tsuna now scared of them or worried about them?

The first time Tsuna and Sora meet, Sora is absolutely furious with Tsuna for getting his innocent kids involved with the mafia! Sora ends up scolding Tsuna very harshly. After that their relationship gradually improves because sometimes they are the only sane people in a town full of crazies. They have regular tea times if they stay in contact!

Does Reborn think they're pathetic or does he have a slight respect for them? If he suddenly appeared out of a wall-hole, how would your oc react?

Reborn ends up meeting Sora much the same way Tsuna did and there is immediate animosity and hostility between them. No respect, not pathetic, Reborn thinks Sora is annoying. The first time Reborn come sout a wall hole at Sora, Sora yelps and kicks at him. Reborn is even more annoyed when his wall holes in the Kusakabe mansion are already filled with solid cement a few days after this happens.

Would Hibari Kyoya be able to stand being in a room with them for five minutes? How long do they last in a fight against him?

When Kyoya was younger, him and Sora hung out as much as they could, playing board games, learning about flames, socializing together... But these days, Kyoya can't stand being in a room with him. Our cloud boy feels guilty about keeping the mafia a secret. And Kyoya's independence is in stark contrast to Sora's demands for his safety and civilain-hood. Yis. Sora wants Kyoya to find happiness as a civilain.

Kyoya would never want to raise a hand against his father. The guilt of that would literally eat him alive, he'd be miserable. But Kyoya does raise his voice at Sora an awful lost. When Sora returns post Canon, they have a lot of loud arguments that often end with slammed doors and Kyoya disappearing into the night for days. In that sense, Sora wins the arguments cause Kyoya definitely ends up crying more than he does.

Would your oc go off rambling about crytids with Gokudera? If yes, which is their fave cryptid?

Sora has a very well developed paternal instinct so when young boys come at him, excited about their interests, he matches their energy and asks for more info. And Hayato has daddy issues so he does actually end up getting attached to Sora, which makes things... Awkward. Sora's favourite cryptid is! Hibari Kyoya!!!/half joking

He really likes learning about water-centric crytids, mermaids and sirens and such.

Would Skull try to flirt with them? Would he score a date? Pity date or genuine interest?

When Skull tried to flirt with Sora, Sora told him 'You're barking up the wrong tree, Sport.' and pat his head. No date happens, not even a pity date, but Sora doesn't mind when Skull ends up permanently moving into his mansion! :D Skull has been roommate-zoned 😔

How loud does your oc cheer when Yamamoto hits a home run? What if the ball hit them?

Sora is an absolute fan of baseball! He's an Olympic coach afterall. Sports are his whole deal. He would try to cheer the loudest, even with his noise dampening headphones on. (which is an accessibility tool Kyoya eventually picks up as well. Truly a game changer!)

If the ball hit Sora, Sora would very simply get knocked out. He's just a random dude, he doesn't have inhumane reflexes. Kyoya has inhumane rage about the unprovoked assault tho. Sora wakes up to a stadium-wide brawl and must immediately go collect his children and their strange friends.

Would your oc be able to last an hour watching over Lambo, I-pin and Fuuta? What if they all had sugar beforehand?

Sora has powerful dad energy! He would probably very quickly be adopted as a father by these kids and he would love watching them as long as he has some way to get them to quiet down a little. Lambo in particular is showered with quiet yet distracting toys which he loves! If the kids had sugar beforehand, Sora will be sadly longing for his noise canceling headphones while he halfway-dissociates in the chaos the kids are making. After the sugar crash, he will clean up and collect the tired kiddos and just read them a story so they can have a nap lmao.

What food would Sawada Nana cook for your oc? What's their favourite food? Drink?

Nana would cook him a traditional meal as apology for the mess her son created and Sora would eat it and tell her all about how well his kids can cook as well. Nana would subconsciously take it as a challenge and try to indirectly out-cook Kyoya. She will never win because Sora loves Kyoya too much to find anyone else's cooking more appealing.

Kyoya was such a fussy eater as a child so Sora cooked him all sorts of meals and they ended up with Hamburger steak and lasagna as their shared favourite meals. (Kyoya will never publicly admit to liking some European cuisine)

Sora is a strong advocate of water. It's his favourite liquid!

Free space! [insert any other character questions you want!]

Tetsuya and Sora are on fantastic terms, which makes the friction between Sora and Kyoya stand out even more. Tetsuya feels very pulled back and forth between his boss and his dad for a bit. And then Tetsuya also has the weird experience of his admiration-crush on who is technically his step-bro. This family is a whole mess. But they're a mess that very much do love each other fiercely.

The reason Sora wanted to desperately adopt Kyoya is because he recognized Child!Kyoya's facial features and short size/signs of malnourishment as dead giveaways that he was born into the Hibari Clan. In Sora's mind, adopting the feral Child!Kyoya was a race against time since the Clan was probably looking for him as well! It takes a few years until they truly internalize the fact that the Clan just... Doesn't give a care what Kyoya does and where he lives. That's around the time Kyoya passive-aggressively changes his family name. For a while (throughout elementary school), he was Kusakabe Kyoya on paper :3

Goddamn this was surprisingly fun! I really hope someone wants to ask questions, I wanna continue talking! 😅 Now I'm happy I started this whole thing cause if someone else gets to feel this nice... 🥺 That's the goal.

I desperately want to know more about people's khr OCs! Specifically yours @lilacdon20 and also yours @masterdisastre !!!!

But really anyone is very welcomed to reblog this with ramblings of their OCs!

Yes You! The person reading this! I want to know about your OCs specifically!!!!

Also you are all welcomed to tag other people who's khr OCs you like as well!! ANYONE IS WELOCME! /pos

Questions, if needed because flustered or confused, are under the Read more!

First up! General questions!

What is their name? Their pronouns? Age? Gender identity? Sexuality? (if any of that matters lmao)

Are they somehow related to another khr character? In what way?

What does your oc look like? Do you have any art of them? Picrew also welcomed! Ai art... Not preferred >:/

What are their relationships to other khr characters? Pairings you like with your oc? Adopted siblings and parents maybe?

Actually what's the family situation of your oc? Do they have siblings that's a background character perhaps? (example: sometimes I give Kusakabe Tetsuya a brother)

Does your oc have a mental illness? Neurodivergencies? Other disabilities? At what age did they get these disabilities if they weren't born with them?

If they had a super power what would it be?

Free Space! [Anything else you want to talk about?]

Khr specific questions:

What's their flames? And how many flames do they have? One? More? None?

How do they use their flames? If they have one.

If they don't have a flame, how do they fight? Do they fight at all?

If they can't fight for any reason, what's their preferred method of self defense?

Free space! [insert any khr specific question you want!]

And last but not least and mostly for fun!!! Khr character questions:

How much does Tsuna want to protect your oc upon first meeting them? After knowing them a minute, is Tsuna now scared of them or worried about them?

Does Reborn think they're pathetic or does he have a slight respect for them? If he suddenly appeared out of a wall-hole, how would your oc react?

Would Hibari Kyoya be able to stand being in a room with them for five minutes? How long do they last in a fight against him?

Would your oc go off rambling about crytids with Gokudera? If yes, which is their fave cryptid?

Would Skull try to flirt with them? Would he score a date? Pity date or genuine interest?

How loud does your oc cheer when Yamamoto hits a home run? What if the ball hit them?

Would your oc be able to last an hour watching over Lambo, I-pin and Fuuta? What if they all had sugar beforehand?

What food would Sawada Nana cook for your oc? What's their favourite food? Drink?

Free space! [insert any other character questions you want!]

There is no pressure for anyone to answer of course. I just want to get to know more OCs and their creators. I'm talkative lately so I'll try to keep up with the reblogs as best I can :3

Multiple reblogs for multiple OCs are also very very welcomed!

[darthmaulification]

Hey, I want to make a request

In your Maul’s nsfw alphabet you said that he is afraid of hurting reader during sex, right? So, could you please write smth were this happens? Thank you!!

A/N: ..... anon..... the absolute Way you have me experiencing a cataclysm with this... i am imploding... 

thank you very much for requesting this, it was also a very good and welcome challenge for me to write. 😊👍 

hope you enjoy!! 💗

content: a lil bit o’ smut!, some angst??, but also lots of comfort and fluff!!, kinda sorta implied afab!reader??, maul commits a big oopsie on accident, crying during sex, blood and injury, maul gets angry at himself, but also soft!maul 🥺, lots of kissing, happy ending of course 🥰

word count: 2,334

Maul’s vigorous thrusting is complimented deliciously by the sloppy, desperate kisses he leaves all over the skin his mouth can reach. His crimson hands grip your wrists in a vice above your head, keeping them trapped against the bed. You moan into the sheets, arching up against him, hips tilting, silently begging him to go faster, harder, please, Maul...

“Harder, sweet girl?” Maul growls teasingly from above you, answering the plea you hadn’t realized you vocalized. He obeys, and you cry out his name when his hips clash into yours, drilling his cock into you, almost causing your knees to give from the force. The obscene yet beautiful sound of skin smacking together floats into your ears, mingling with Maul’s grunts and your persistent moaning.

Maul presses against you, the fiery skin of his bare chest flush against the arch of your back. The snapping of his hips make you rock in rhythmic tandem, and with each one you feel your peak nearing. Maul groans into the dip of your shoulder blades, his breath hot on the nape of your neck, where he licks across your flushed, dewy skin and leaves wet trails.

“Say my name again, my love.” He leaves a flat-tongued lick up your neck, nibbling at your ear. One of his hands drop from your wrists and travels down your side, rough fingers igniting sparks inside you. Maul kneads your waist, your belly, before clutching your hip. The brace allows him to further pound himself into you, and you see stars.

“Maul, Maul!” You scream his name, all high-pitched and airy, the pleasure toe-curling and promising of a powerful, sweet release. Maul exhales a rather handsome laugh into your ear, golden eyes glazed over with lust and something else wild. Eyes fluttering shut, you feel him suck a love bite into the nook where your neck and shoulder meet, arching your head back and against his shoulder.

Like a prayer, his name tumbles from your lips over and over again, the lamentation pleading and desperate. Your core throbs and clenches around your lover, a telltale sign of orgasm on the horizon. Everything seems to slow down... 

But then Maul bites. Hard. Your eyes snap open.

The sinking of sharp teeth into the flesh of your shoulder is so poignant, it pierces through the thick, lustful haze and roughly pulls you back to reality. You shriek, one most certainly not out of pleasure, but actual pain. It causes Maul to abruptly pull out and back, releasing your wrists in the process. At the same time you feel the emptiness of him leaving, a white-hot fire erupts from where Maul had definitely broken the skin and you writhe.

“Ow.” The whimper escapes in one word, voice thick, as tears immediately glaze over your eyes. Blinking furiously to keep them at bay, you squirm lethargically into an upright position, sitting on your knees.

“I’m...” From behind you Maul starts to say something, but his voice cuts out when you look down over your shoulder and reach a trembling hand up to the bite. When you actually see the wound, that’s when the tears start rolling down your cheeks. It’s... bad. 

The bite is a perfect oval of teeth indents and grooves, most of them deep and bleeding, the skin around them a harsh red and raised. The skin around it is an ugly mix of crimson, dark purple bruising, and pink with irritation. The entire area is swollen and pulsing with ache. Bottom lip wobbling, you trace a hesitant finger along the edge of the bite and the touch stings. You pull your hand back with a shaky gasp.

“My love, I...” Maul starts speaking again but stops and swallows. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, and you’re not exactly sure why. The tears are falling profusely now, and you shudder back heavier sobs. The room goes dreadfully silent, save for your small, quiet cries. You can feel Maul’s stare on you, more specifically on the injury he caused.

“I hurt you. I hurt you.” He repeats to himself, the tone of his voice inscrutable. He suddenly clambers up and off of the bed, the mattress shaking gently, and you listen as his footsteps disappear out of the room. The room is left thick with pain and sorrow, and also a stewing shame that was left hovering after Maul spoke. You look back at the bite after another round of tears pours from your eyes. Oh, Maul...

Footfalls sound again, and Maul reenters the room as your examining the darkening wound, particularly the trails of blood that have by now reached your waist. His heart clenches with a terrible ache, and guilt and anger bubble to the surface, stiffening him. He hurt you, he did. Maul almost doesn’t want to approach, almost thinks he shouldn’t, but you need the bacta.

You don’t look at Maul’s face when he sits next to you, though not as close he usually would, because you’re unsure if you want to see the expression that must be on it. Instead, you focus on his hands, at the wet rag, bacta, and bandages he’s holding. You also notice how his hands are quivering.

“Can I clean it?” Maul asks in an uncharacteristically quiet tone, though he’s very obviously seething with barely capped rage. That somewhat familiar self-loathing Maul gets from time to time radiates off of him, as does guilt. You sniffle, and bob your head yes. The pain is less sharp now, but the wound still needs to be dressed.

Maul says nothing as he wipes away the almost dried blood trails, or as he very tenderly dabs at the puffy wound, or when he pauses at his teeth marks that are purpling now, or even when he smears the bacta over them. The whole time, he works mechanically and in deafening silence. By the time Maul has placed a bandage over the bite, the cooling of the bacta has numbed your shoulder to a soft, dull ache and the hurt is all but gone.

“Maul...” You start softly after you feel his hands leave you, gaze climbing up his arms to his face. The shame-ridden expression on his face makes your heart sink, how his downcast golden eyes are aflame with guilt and swirling with fury. He doesn’t look at you as you turn fully to face him, and recoils when you place a hand on his cheek. His body, ever warm, is stiff beneath your touch.

“It’s okay.” You murmur and Maul’s gaze snaps up to meet yours, the anger flaring. His square jaw tenses and he shakes off your hand.

“No, it’s not. I hurt you.” And while you see and hear that familiar wrath and that unfamiliar guilt in his expression and voice, it never occurred to you before that Maul was also afraid. It makes you misty-eyed. You shake your head, shuffling closer to him.

“No, no, no— Maul, it was an accident.” You plead, placing your hands on either side of his face, rubbing circles with your thumbs. Usually, that simple touch calms him down, but this time Maul grabs your wrists and pulls his face from your grasp.

“I hurt you.” He says again, voice a hiss as he stares at you with conflicted, pained eyes, “I fucking made you cry.”

Maul suddenly leaps up from the bed, pacing across the room to roughly grab his pants off the floor. He pulls them on swiftly, and your brows furrow when he crosses the room to grab his belt and lightsaber.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he ties his belt across his waist, clipping his saber to it. He doesn’t look at you, and turns to the door.

“I’m leaving.”

“No, you are not.” You clamber up off the bed and onto your feet, stumbling slightly as you hastily make your way over to Maul. You’re able to get in front of him, planting your hands firmly on his chest and halting him. He glares down at you, angrily, sadly, and you ground yourself at look up at him.

“Move.” He growls, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Your lips turn down in a stubborn pout. Maul’s bristling under your touch, and you know you’re walking on precarious ground. But you’ve dealt with Maul’s temper enough to not have it faze you, and you’re sure you can handle his guilt the same.

“No.” You retort and you pull yourself flush against him, arms snaking around his torso in a tight hug, your eyes closing. Pressing your cheek against his chest, you sigh at the familiar warmth you love, digging your face into his beautiful crimson and black skin. Maul doesn’t wrap his arms around you in turn. You give his sternum a gentle kiss.

“Get off.” Maul’s growled order comes out as brashly and as firmly as always, but his commandeering attitude hasn’t worked on you for years. A sudden, but small, spark of playfulness curls your lips upwards into a tiny smile. You rub your hands up and down the length of Maul’s back, feeling every tight, defined muscle and occasionally the rough edge of his scar when your hand gets low enough and your pinky fingers brush it.

“Never.” Your murmur vibrates his chest, and you hum contentedly when you finally catch the lovely beatings of Maul’s twin hearts. They thrum in alternating rhythm beneath your ear, both strong and deep.

“You’re not running from me.” You speak again, eyes still closed. Maul is quiet, though you feel him lift an arm and a tender, yet firm, hand comes to rest on the low of your back. You smile fully, lightly gliding your nails over Maul’s back in the way you know he loves. His thumb starts to rub circles on your skin.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“... I was scared.”

“I know.”

You look up at Maul, eyes beneath heavy lids, your smile still bright and kind on your face. The conflict in his eyes has cooled to a simmer, being replaced more and more by that boyish, starry-eyed look he gets sometimes, the one that reminds you of how much he loves you. Maul’s other hand reaches up and cups your cheek, caressing your face. You tilt your head into the touch.

“Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?” He teases in a low murmur, honey gold eyes glimmering with rising mirth, and you quirk an eyebrow. Your hands stop to rest on his waist, just above the band of his pants. Maul’s face starts to inch in closer and closer to yours, stopping right when his lips are just above yours.

“Mm... you might have to do some convincing.” You whisper, eyes drooping further until your irises are nearly obscured by your eyelashes. Maul chuckles low in his throat, his hand shifting to place two fingers under your chin. He tilts your head up slightly, pulls you closer against him.

“How do you suppose I accomplish that?” He asks, breath puffing on your cheeks, gaze breaking from yours when he closes his eyes. You follow suit, and the tips of both your upper lips touch.

“... I can think of one way.” You say, and you tilt your head and your jaw slackens slightly, and Maul’s lips are on yours, balmy and soft. The kiss is slow, slower than he usually does, but it’s perfect and sultry and so Maul. You hum when he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to gyrate in your mouth. He explores everywhere, relearns every touch. It’s like you’re kissing for the first time all over again, lost in each other as if the years of memorizing each other’s body melted away into oblivion. Your hands clasp his waist, his one hand moves up to your mid back, and the heated, passionate kiss ends.

Maul pulls back a little more to look at you properly, tucking your hair behind your ear, and you open your eyes from the touch. He’s wearing that satisfied, lazy grin, the one that always makes him look mischievous. 

“Do you still need more convincing?” He asks with a tilt of his head, though he knows the answer you’re going to give by the cheeky smile that spreads across your face. You giggles, eyes sparkling, and you nod.

“Lots.” And with that, Maul’s lips are on yours, stifling your laughter in his mouth. He smothers you with kisses, peppering your lips, cheeks, and jaw, and you do the same for him, kissing over and over until you’re sure your lips will fall off. At some point, Maul heaves you into his arms, carries you to the bed, and drops your bodies atop it.

You squeal with laughter when he rolls on top of you, trapping you between his thighs, nuzzling and kissing the side of your face. Your hands fumble at his shoulders, before sliding to his face to turn his head to you. He’s grinning between your hands, looking absolutely charmed, and you kiss him on the nose, breathy from laughing.

When you pull away, Maul’s panting and still grinning like a madman, but his wild eyes have gone somewhat tame, controlled. His eyes dart all around your face, like he’s analyzing each one of your features. He breathes an exhale, licks his lips, and meets your gaze.

“I love you.” And his voice is slightly raspy, but he says it with such conviction, so raw and passionate, that the intensity floors you. Sure, he’s said those words to you before, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it. Your eyes go slightly misty again, and you smile sweetly, fingers rubbing the bases of his horns on his temples.

“I love you.” You reply and again, Maul sinks into you with a deep kiss, and you all but melt into each other, bodies a welcoming sanctuary for the other.

[rayofsunas]

otherworldly! s/o

A/n: happy monday! I woke up at 7am and since then I've been grinding out assignments/classes and now this, so I actually feel productive even though I've been staring at my computer for a while. but thank you for requesting anon! I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it! <33 also to understand this more, I'd like to point out that this connects to the speculation Genshin and Honkai are alternate universes of one another. so for example, Scaramouche is a harbinger from his time, but he may have been a warlord in a different, with a completely different name (keeping his appearance ofc) hope that makes sense. so if you've paid attention to what I've been saying about Scara and his mini-series, etc. you'll understand what I mean in Scara's lol. his reader insert is fem for the same reason as above btw!

Summary: otherworldly! s/o who arrived as a fallen meteor, that can bring back plants to life/heal deep wounds/scars and resurrect people.

Parings: Albedo/Gn! Reader, Xiao/Gn! Reader, Scaramouche/Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, fluff, alternate realities/time traveler au! (reader is not the traveler), death/resurrection

Word count: 1.7k

Albedo

you don't have a vision like some people in Teyvat, because you're not from there; you're from a whole different world itself. instead, you have healing abilities that allow you to any energy you absorb in the form of food/sunlight, and you can use that energy to heal others. though, the healing can only go as far as healing minor injuries such as shallow cuts, scratches, or smoothing out scars. the same can work if you were to heal yourself.

Albedo is so intrigued when he finds you passed out in the pit of a meteor, half of your body hanging out while the other is awkwardly still in it

one, because who is this stranger in a meteor for crying out loud

and two, he notices your wounds on your arms are healing by themselves, slowly though

as someone who studies alchemy, life forms, and such, he's very intrigued that you're able to heal yourself without medicine, and he wonders if you can do the same to others

so he takes you to his lab, and runs a few tests

yes, you're still passed out when this happens, but he's just so curious and couldn't hold back

don't worry though, he's just drawing some blood and testing to see what you can do, because who knows, you may not even speak his language and won't be able to communicate with him (doesn't make a difference Albedo, you need COnSENT-)

so, just for science, he cuts the palm of his hand a little and decides to see if you can heal him

it doesn't take him long to notice the way the tips of your fingers are glowing a light greenish-yellow, so he immediately assumes that's the source of your powers and places a finger on his palm

it takes a second before anything happens, but eventually his cut starts to slowly close

once again he's even more shocked and intrigued

you have the natural ability and he's never come across someone with so much raw strength being able to do that

so you're right up his alley

when you wake up you're confused as hell (obviously) but thankfully, you can speak his language and are able to share your story

Albedo decides to make a deal with you

he'll help you get home if you can educate him more about your ability and your homeland. you agree

it works out perfectly, because you both have something the other needs/can do for the other (you have your power that he's interested in, and he's found a way for you to return home)

it's also easy to work together because of those same common interests, and it helps that he studies alchemy cause he's way more knowledgeable about you and the process can go a tiny bit quicker for you if you wish to return home sooner

at first you're merely friends, co-workers if you wish

but then he starts falling for you and vice versa

you both genuinely enjoy each others company, so you decide to stay in Teyvat a little while longer, even after he finds a way for you to go home

I wouldn't put it past Albedo to want to return to your world if you allow it

he'd be interested in this new or not so new world ;)

Xiao

you're like the traveler in a sense, where as soon as you climbed out of the meteor, you felt this connection to Teyvat and your vision randomly appeared. you have a dendro vision, something you learned was a rarity within liyue and mondstadt. along with that vision, you had the previous ability to grow/heal plants. you can bring back dead plants, though if they've been dead for a very long time, that's beyond your ability. they also can't be brought back if they've been badly burned.

Xiao may not be interested at first about what vision you have or even where you came from + why the hell you climbed out of a meteor

he's more interested in getting you home so you can stop asking questions about his own abilities/vision and odd, unfamiliar, but beautiful world

but boy when he catches you bringing back a wilted Glaze Lily?!? shook

he secretly thinks you're so cool and it piques his interest

he's never seen anyone do this before, and though his eyes were deceiving him when he first saw the lily spring to life again

but then when he catches you healing more plants, on your way to Liyue to hopefully find Zhongli for answers, he's so interested

he doesn't ask a crapload of questions, BUT he's going to ask at least one or two

"how're you doing that?"

"what are you?

the questions are kind of vague and require more in-depth explanations than he'd originally hoped, but he's surprisingly willing to listen to your story on the way to the harbor

after he learns your story and calls for Zhongli, he'll immediately leave and claim he has no further interests in you

but he's obviously lying

he finds as he's sitting on top of one the smaller mountains one night, looking down at the glowing Liyue town, he has more questions

way more questions

surprising Zhongli, Xiao shows appears when he's showing you around and getting you accustomed to the people/culture

he finds himself hoving behind you, shyly almost, never asking questions (at least not in Zhongli's presence

his reason for standing behind you is to protect you from any harm, so that way, when he decides to ask you more questions, you'll be there for him to do so and not dead or lost

when you tell Zhongli you'd wish to stay in Teyvat, specifically Liyue, Xiao is happy ngl

he can ask you questions and now that you're somewhat used to Liyue, having been here for four months already and planning to stay forever, he can catch you alone and ask questions without Zhongli hovering or acting as your tour guide lol

slowly, and I mean sluggishly slow, he's going to ask you more questions and he may, emphasis on may, tell you his own story

Scaramouche

you're from an alternate reality of Teyvat, a former doctor in your world. basically, Teyvat hundreds of years in the future. you've studied the human body to become a doctor obviously and you used to be able to bring back the dead using your bare hands. it didn't matter how far back ago they've died, as long as their full-body was still intact (full skeleton needed). though, the further back they died, the more energy you'd use, and if you run out of energy too soon, you couldn't bring them back. but now in this strange land, you can't. in exchange for your powers being lost, you're given an electro vision.

Scaramouche is tasked with finding out more about these odd meteors that keep appearing in various corners of Teyvat

and one very large one

he doesn't care who you are, what you are, what your excuse for being in Teyvat is, but he's been ordered to explore the fallen meteor and since you happened to be passed out inside it upon further exploration, you're part of the mystery he's been told to check out

and, it doesn't further help your situation that you landed in Snezhnaya, in the weirdest, not-so-warm clothing AND he finds you attractive (yes, you heard it here folks), plus you're going to catch hypothermia out here dressed like that

it would suck for a pretty girl such as yourself to be frozen to death

so Scaramouche decides to take you to the Tsaritsa, who leaves you in Scaramouche's care since he found you

she says he can do whatever he wants you, dispose of you, etc.

when you finally come too in an odd room on a couch in front of a fireplace, you're confused, cold as hell despite the flames, and when you see his face, you're immediately angered, which he finds odd

it's almost as if you recognize him... but he doesn't recognize you so he's confused as well

"what're you doing here?"

bold of you, he thinks. to question him with that tone as if you have authority here, over him

"watch yourself. I was going to ask you the same."

you don't seem too pleased with him though

"we agreed to never speak again, or so I thought..."

"are you stupid or are you just playing the stupid card to be released?" he'd say

though as soon as you burst and yell at him about a situation he's not familiar with, he's starting to understand a bit more

you're not from here, not anywhere in Teyvat at least, and by the way you're talking to him as if you know him, he assumed correctly that you're from an alternate reality, where he's also present

though despite his correct assumption, he demands answers and you cannot be allowed any kind of freedom until he gets them

you tell him your story and how in your world, a version of himself exists and that you were briefly married, though split because he was too much of a control/power freak for you and your daughter

he disagrees with the last part about him being a control/power freak ofc but

he decides he'll keep you around, against your wishes

one, because you can become useful if your resurrection abilities are awoken; you'd be able to save many fallen Fatui soldiers, with more training so you don't run out of energy ofc

and two, he doesn't think his other self would miss you very much if you're both on bad terms, he sure would miss such a pretty face if you were to leave though, that's for sure...

so, he's going to keep you around, so he can help train/get used to your electro vision. it works best that way since he has the same vision and can train you more efficiently (I think Scara has electro powers, just an assumption!)

he will also hopefully be able to awaken your resurrection abilities and if you can't, well then sorry you're disposable

overtime, all the Harbingers tease him about his little crush and he either denies it or strongly provokes it cause his ego is through his fucking hat

exhibit a. literally doesn't care that he's caught by childe staring at you train and will say something like, "and? you're just jealous she's not interested in you like she is me."

exhibit b. will throw a fit if someone accuses him and says he has, "no room for crushes or love." even if he was somewhat capable of it in your world...

3.22.21, rayofsunas

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

[zuluc]

summary: the names you call him depend on the situation and he finds it endearing and meaningful when he hears each one

pairing: childe x gn!reader

style & genre: written; angst & fluff

warnings: mildly explicit content (it’s like 1% explicit) at the end

notes: he, xiao, and diluc are my comfort characters and i really wanted to write this once the idea stuck in my head. i noticed that childe/tartar/chillday/ajax goes by a few names that idea made this fic. these scenes are little snippets of life with childe so they happen over the span of many months, years, etc., you choose

this is self-indulgent i need comfort during this time 😀 but i went a little overboard with the last part, oh well get hit with feelings

The playfulness of his name...

"Childe!” You yelp when you feel cold fingers graze your sides and plant themselves firmly. He doesn’t make a move to remove them so you’re left squirming from the sensation. You can hear his soft chuckles in your ear, ones that were only heard in the earliest of mornings when he first wakes up.

“Sorry, but I’ve waited so long to do this...” he mutters and kisses your neck before pulling his hands away, “What are you making?” He hooks his chin over your shoulder and stares down at the ingredients you’ve chopped up. 

“Breakfast. We have a job today, remember?” Even if he is pretty punctual on most occassions and can watch out for himself on the battlefield, Childe forgets most things when they should happen and doesn’t realize just how much he works his body. In this case, he thought the mission was another day and was fully prepared to spend the whole day in bed with you.

“Isn’t it tomorrow?” He lifts his head and checks the small notebook left on the dining room table. “Ah, man. Sweetheart, when are we going to get a day for ourselves?” He whines out loud with you laughing at the actions of the manchild. He returns to wrap his arms around you and bury himself in the collar of your shirt, that was essentially his. 

“Soon, Childe. Soon.”

--

Drowns out of the worries and sorrowness attached to this... 

Your heartbeat echoes in your ears through the silence as you stare him down. Sure you knew that he had questionable missions and affiliations, but like this? They lay injured at his feet and while they were the enemy, to you and him both, there was that look in his eyes that screamed something vastly different to the ones shown to you. 

He doesn’t notice your presence right away, dispelling his dual swords and causing the droplets of blood mixed with them to disappear as well. But when he lifts his head, the same eyes shown unto the enemy were present. 

And you stay frozen.

Walking into this scene was something you never wanted to do which was particularly difficult seeing as you both had gone on numerous missions together. Was it different this time around? Were these people even more sinister than the ones you’ve had to deal with?

His heavy steps take you out of your thoughts and you see that he is coming closer and closer to you. You aren’t afraid, you tell yourself, but he completely passes by you. Something urges you to open your mouth to call out to him. The reason why, you didn’t know.

He summons his swords and you can see their residue fly over your head and to your sides, red mixing with blue. His name slips by your lips and you call your weapon to join him.

“Tartaglia.”

--

But most of all he trusted you to say this one to his face.

He isn’t unaware of the looks you give him when he fights. And he isn’t aware of how that not only affects how you act around him, but the way you see him. After days like that you tend to be the slightest bit apprehensive and give him his space just in case he needed to cool down. 

As mentioned, it isn’t like you are afraid of him. Rather, you’re worried. 

You’re worried that he’s carrying too much on his shoulders with responsibiliites related to his work and personal life. You feel that anything that might send the balance off could crack his usual persona and show a side that you’ve never seen him show you before.

You aren’t afraid, right?

You’re drying the plates when he arrives into the small kitchen the two of you share. You already freshened up and wanted to finish off last minute chores before heading off to bed. He on the other hand had taken a bath and wanted to see you.

You can hear the faintness in his steps as he presses his chest to your back, wet tips of his hair dangling in your peripherals. You don’t tense, you never do with him, and he takes the opportunity to relax. It’s quiet for a few moments, then he decides to speak.

“Do you love me?” Those four words make you stop completely but you don’t take more than two seconds to turn around and embrace him. His arms come around you gently as if he were scared to break you.

You don’t know exactly what he’s thinking but you are aware that it has something to do with those specific instances. When you lift his head up from your neck, his blue irises are glassy but as bright as ever. There isn’t a word said between you both but the actions, the touches, and gazes are there.

This man was who you fell in love with. 

He laid himself out to you after gaining your trust and now he worries that it could all be taken away. Fighting was a part of him that he was afraid you wouldn’t accept and the misunderstanding of your actions was more proof of that.

His fighting wasn’t for nothing, you knew that. It was for protecting the ones he cared about.

A twinge of guilt surfaces in your chest and you tell him everything. He listens and listens and listens. 

You tell him of your worries, of the reasons of your wariness, and you apologize for the way you’ve made him feel. He may be strong and charismatic, but he is a human being who cherishes you so close to his heart. He wants to tell you that you don’t need to but you tell him it is all necessary.

Because you love him.

The words bring him happiness and assurance but he’s ever the impatient one, too. He asks for permission and you grant it to him.

The following motions are unclear to you until you feel yourself meet with the softness of the bed. His body lays on top of yours but he holds himself up as to not crush you under him. He’s made jokes of that before but now this is a moment when holding you like this is never close enough.

He barely lets you breathe, though when allowing time for air, his lips never leave your body. Like he can’t get enough of you. If he were to ever lift his hands he feels like you could just disappear. The path his fingers take leaves you to shiver in their midst as he takes care of you so carefully.

But you touch him as well. Showing him that you want to take care of him as much as he does you. The span of his skin is both smooth and rough and he sighs in your ear when you softly graze over the scars on his back. His grip on you is tight but never enough to hurt as he slowly brings you both to your highs. You gasp his name in his ear and he closes his eyes at the sound.

It isn’t the one you casually call him and it isn’t the one that challenges his doubts.

It’s the one that’s left him vulnerable to your every ask and whim. One that never fails to grow his love for you every single time he hears it.

“Ajax.”

When your mind clears up he’s already staring at you. The haziness of uncertainties slowly dissipating as you reach your hand out to lace it through his own.

He squeezes it back just as tightly.