#as two different people AND he can turn into a heartless or human at will and always come back???

[the-lazyyy-artist]

Pairing: Kunigami Rensuke x GN!Reader Synopsis: He left as a hero, and he returned cold and heartless. What adventures have made him like this? Would you still love him? Themes: angst, post-WC! Kunigami, set during Blue Lock's two-week break after their win against JP U-20 (chapters 150 - 153), reader is hopeful, Kunigami lost all humanity, established relationship, if you squint a little it's kinda like Epic's OdyPen lmao Author's Note: Epic The Ithaca Saga is ruining my brain chemistry. A mutual and fellow writer already created something like this but I wanna put my own twist on this hehe!

@thebestsetter ✨

Kunigami Rensuke was a hero before he became yours.

He always believed in goodness, helping everyone else, and acting like a big brother to those who needed his guidance. It's no wonder his morals bleed through his play on the field. To win each game fair and square while he showcases his skills. Watching how he turned into a knight in shining armor every time he stepped onto the field, defending his team from the enemy and scoring his goals was mesmerizing.

So, when he was invited to the Blue Lock Program, you weren't so surprised.

"How long will you be there?" you asked him once while you were on his bed, watching him go back and forth around his room, packing a small duffle bag of the things he might need in the facility. "That's something I can't answer right now, love," he replied, "it's something they never clarified in the letter. But let's say 2 or 3 months, give or take."

"Take care of yourself in there, okay? Show them the hero that you are," you reminded him, smiling up softly as he zipped the bag close. He was ready. Ready to face a new adventure, new challenges, and new foes and allies. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. "I will. Then when this is all over, I'm coming home to you with stories from my training."

"You're not leaving me behind, are you?" you teased, reaching for his hand. On his ring finger was a promise ring, the same one you wore. A symbol of his love for you and his promise to marry you. Your fingers gingerly held on to his ring, feeling the rough metal against your skin. "I will never. I'll always take you with me, remember? I'll be back before you know it."

3 days later, he left with a kiss, a promise, and a vision of him taking over the world with his aspirations.

A few weeks in, you received a call from him, happy and excited to talk to you. He told you about the things he's learned, the friends he's gained, and the foes he's made. He spoke about an Isagi, a Chigiri, and a Bachira, and how these people made him feel stronger with how they all blended on the field. You were proud to hear him grow and find friends.

"How did you get your phone anyway? I thought the letter said phones aren't allowed?" You asked him.

"We were given a star system where goals are exchanged for points that we can use for different privileges," Kunigami explained, "I exchanged my first goal for steak, and shared that with Isagi. Now, I exchanged two of my goals for my phone so I can talk to you."

Always so considerate. Your hero never changed despite the changes he's experienced in Blue Lock. With every point he earned, he'd always exchange it for phone time to call you and tell you about his adventures.

Suddenly, the calls stopped.

You're sure Kunigami wasn't the type to never make a goal. Was he getting into harder challenges in there? No matter how hard it was, you knew your hero would never back down.

Right?

It worried you. You kept looking at your phone, waiting for a call. You kept replaying your conversation weeks ago about a possible second selection and how it would play out, and you worried it was even more challenging than the team matches. Would he get out of it alive? Triumphant? Of course! Since when did you start doubting your hero?

You began to twist your ring, anxious about Kunigami as the days went by, each one feeling longer than the last. It's making you sick. He was never the type to just disappear without saying anything.

The announcement of an exhibition game with Japan U-20 made you feel hopeful again. Knowing your hero, he would be part of the starting 11. You saved enough for the tickets for you and your sibling to watch him play live. You were excited about what skill he gained in Blue Lock, and if he improved to be the best version of himself.

But why wasn't he there?

You know Isagi was there... Chigiri... Bachira... but where was he? Where's your hero?

The win was a blur. How can you even cheer for his team when he isn't there? It's impossible that he's benched too. Kunigami was never the type to warm the bench for the whole game. You wanted to ask Isagi... Maybe Chigiri because Kunigami has talked about him the most. Bachira might know too. But it's impossible to reach them, especially with how they disappeared into the building after the game.

"Where are you?" you whispered into the empty stadium.

Maybe it's time to let go. No. Kunigami made it clear that you would never let go. You'll wait for him to call. You'll wait for him to send you some kind of sign. Anything. Letting go is never the answer, he would say if he's beside you. So, with every passing day after the match, you never went anywhere without your phone, hoping soon he'd call.

How cruel must fate be that the only time you let your guard down was on the day he decided to show up?

Your mother opened the door for him, a gasp leaving her lips. She led him to your door and left him to talk to you. From the outside, Kunigami tensed as he wrapped his large hand around your doorknob, hearing your voice spilling out as he opened it slowly. And for a moment, Kunigami would like to believe nothing has changed. For a moment, all he could see was the light he held on to.

There you were, sitting on your desk as you studied with headphones on, singing one of the songs from the playlist he created for both of you to listen to. Clearly, in your little world, you didn't hear Kunigami enter and close your door behind him. Kunigami sighed, and then he opened his lips to say your name.

Oh, it felt like a lifetime since he spoke your name. Kunigami felt a piece of him remembering what it was like to say your name the first time he met you.

"Y/n."

No answer.

"Y/n," he said once more, a little louder. He saw you perk up a little.

You don't know if you're just imagining things or if Kunigami's voice sounded nearer than how you'd usually imagine it on the days you missed him. And then...

"Y/n."

You removed your headphones, standing up so quickly that your chair toppled over and fell to the floor with a thud. In front of you right now was your hero, the man you waited to return. You held your breath for a moment as you took a good look at him. He looks... he looks...

Tired. His build was bigger, but he looked tired. His hair was a thick mop of messy orange, his eyes...

"Rensuke?" You spoke with caution, "Is it you?"

Kunigami felt like he could fall to his knees the moment you spoke. But he wouldn’t allow himself to do so. You stepped away from your desk to walk to him, holding out your hands to touch him, that this wasn't a dream. He was cold, his cheeks, at least.

That was enough to break you. You embraced him, crying and grateful that your hero had returned. "You're back," you sobbed softly, "my Rensuke, you're back to me." You felt him lift his hands, but instead of embracing you, he gripped your shoulders and pulled you away from him. "Y/n," he spoke, his voice ragged but soft, "I'm not entirely back."

"W-what do you mean?" you asked, your teary eyes, wide and confused, looking up to meet his dull orange eyes. This was the first time you've seen him so lifeless. What the hell happened?

"I'm not the Rensuke you once knew. That version of me is gone."

"What?"

"I'm not the hero I promised you to be."

"What... I-I don't understand. What happened, my love?"

Rensuke looked at you with a slight hint of vulnerability. He must not show weakness. It was drilled into him that he'll be ruthless, he'll become irrational if it means becoming the best that the world will see. But with the sight of you, it felt impossible. "They... changed me. I'm not the hero we both envisioned to be. I... I had to become cruel and let go of my beliefs... The Rensuke you fell for because he believed in doing the right thing fair and square is dead.

"That's why I decided you can no longer love me, Y/n. Because I can't."

You're not hearing this, right? Yet, he sounded so sure. His voice was firm, the same one he would use on his teammates.

"Who are you to decide that?" you asked calmly, reaching for his hand again. Your gaze lowered to his hand, callused and tired, yet the ring was still there. A little worn out than the last time you saw it, but he's still wearing it. Your fingers worked on twisting the ring off his finger, causing him to tense up.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a hint of panic in his voice. You looked up at him with determined eyes. "You once told me when you got these rings for us that if we no longer love the other, we should remove our rings.

"I'm removing yours for you, Ren."

The ring was almost off his finger when he suddenly closed his hand. You looked up at him, and there he was, the Rensuke you fell in love with. "Don't, please..."

"But you said you can no longer love me," you reasoned, still holding his hand. Rensuke stared at you, his walls slowly breaking down at the reality of what he just told you. A stupid, stupid decision because he can't stop loving you.

The whole time he was in the Wildcard Project, the only thing that made him hold on to the little humanity he had in him was the promise of forever in your arms when he returned. The ring on his finger comforted him on nights when he almost gave up because his dream of becoming the best came from you. He promised he'd bring you with him and that he'd come back to you. So, he persevered and came out triumphant... but at what cost?

"How could you even love a cold-hearted man, my love?" he asked, his voice now a mere whisper, slightly cracking, "I have nothing left in me but the drive to win. I am no longer the warm man you want to be with for the rest of my life. I did all I could inside that facility for us to reach our dream, but they drained me. How can you still love me if I have nothing to give you any more?"

"I would still love you because no matter what, you're mine. You're my Rensuke, the man who made me believe that love as pure as yours exists in this world," you replied, "I don't care how much you've lost in there. As long as you return in my arms, I know a part of you that loves me and believes in us is still in there. I know you're still in there, Ren."

And with that, Rensuke broke down in tears in your arms. The place he had always longed for in the days he felt so alone. The warmth that he always yearned for in the coldest and loneliest nights. He's home. He's here.

"If you didn't care about me, you should've removed your ring a long time ago," you added, "but the symbol of your love for me is still there. A little worn, but I know you still have love for me.

"I've waited for you to return. This is all that matters now."

"I love you," Rensuke said between his tired sobs, his orange eyes sparkling with a little bit of life. He's still in there, the hero you loved is still in there.

"And I love you."

[circeyoru]

You Think It’s That Easy? _ Part 2 = Requested

[Yandere Human & Demon!Alastor x Arranged Marriage!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 2 (here)

You heard of Alastor’s death from the news, an accidental while he was in the bayou in the dead of night, mistaken as a deer by a couple of hunters and feasted upon by their hunting dogs. When the mistake was realized, it was already too late. Alastor was already dead

But that wasn’t what concerned you. It was the news that tied Alastor’s death to the death or disappearance of another individual. The Bayou Serial Killer, which has been ever so active as if possessed, stopped all activities after Alastor’s death. Loyal fans of Alastor’s radio show said it was a coincidence, some even trying to provoke the silent killer to prove Alastor’s innocence. To everyone’s horror, Alastor was not so innocent

The Bayou Serial Killer is and was Alastor, the famous radio host. Though to you, Alastor was more than that, he was your childhood friend and a good partner of a false marriage to satisfy both side’s parents, then later continued to ward off suitors for either of you two. Now there was one more identity of Alastor in your mind

A heartless killer

You realized that the late nights Alastor had before you left were all Alastor’s murder playtime. You should have known when he brushed off your worries for his safety, he whispered that he’ll be fine since he is confident in his self-defense. He didn’t tell you it was because he was the killer everyone feared

Yet the moment you felt a chill down your spine was when you remembered the promises Alastor made to you

“I’ll keep you safe.”

“You know I can deal with your troubles if you just ask, right?”

“I won’t let anything or one harm you, never.”

“Anyone that crosses you will face so much misfortune, you know?”

“Hahaha! How dare they prey you like vultures when you have me.”

The suitors that came to you and disappeared soon after… You now know what happened to them. Alastor happened. He killed them all. But you can’t understand why. What was the reason behind the killing and how had you never known?

That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that you felt guilty and fearful of the news. Couldn’t you have prevented all Alastor’s killing if you were more attentive? If you two hadn’t been as distant from each other to living your preferred lives, would things be different?

As a reminder to not be too involved with yourself and ignore others, you kept a red radio on the shelves by your books in the living room. Also a reminder that Alastor was gone

It wasn’t long before weird things started happening. First was that the radio would start up itself without anyone going near it, it wasn’t even powered so it was practically impossible for someone to turn it on or for the radio to play anything. First it was classic music, then it was love songs you’d hum from time to time, after that was eerie slow music with screams from time to time

Then items around your home would disappear and reappear somewhere. Your work left undone would be miraculously done when you wake up to continue doing it, even when you napped on top of it

You tried taking it to the shop to fix it but the shop owner said it was in perfect condition, no malfunction. You tried throwing it away even, but it appeared back on your shelf at its usual place

But when you tried banishing the radio with paranormal experts, those people that helped you all disappeared and then their bodies turned up like something clawed at them or poke something sharp into them. As weird as it was, police chalked it up with a raging deer or bears. Neither were good ends

What you’re worried about was how your lover, now husband was missing ever since the radio started piecing out your name and sweet nicknames that reminded you of Alastor

It wasn’t until once you got drunk and stumbled through the streets, trying to get home. You were pulled into an alley with someone trying to force themselves on you. In that drunken daze, everything was a blur and you weren’t in your right mind, so you didn’t even know why you called out that name

“Help… someone… Help me…” You tried fighting off or at least struggle against the grip but your limbs all felt like noodles. “Al… Alastor…”

“Of course, Love.”

You didn’t see the shadows raise and clawed hands gripping so tightly on your assailant’s arm that they released you. You knew you slumped down against the wall, your head bobbing back and forth and your hair all over the place to the point of covering one of your eyes

You didn’t hear your rescuer tear your attacker like paper, blood overflowing like a spring fountain, yet none got onto you. The screams of pain and the cries of mercy from your attacker who has now become the prey

The scene you saw, your mind didn’t register it, you were way too intoxicated from all the alcohol you drank to drown out your loneliness. You left Alastor, then he died and his secrets brought to light made you feel like you were not supportive enough. You missed your husband who’s on missing posters. Everything was so frustrating and sad at the same time

When it was all done, Alastor, in his shadowy form, kneeled in front of you, staring into your eyes. His fingers snapped and both of you reappeared back at your home. You in Alastor’s hold, carried like a princess, like during the wedding you two pretended to have and Alastor carried you all the way to the dance floor

“You’re so red, Alastor.” You slurred, eying his coat that was in a shade different from how you remember, why was it red? He wears dark brown ones. Your finger poked his cheeks, “Your smile’s too wide, if you smile this much, you’ll hurt your cheers.”

“It’s fine, Dearest.” Alastor spoke. Did you even hear the radio filter over his voice?

“I want to dance… I missed dancing with you…” You lamented as you lowered your finger to lay on your stomach with a pouty frown. “It’s been so long…”

“I think you need to rest, Darling.” Alastor started moving to your room. How did he know? No, did you even notice the way his eyes glowed when you mentioned missing him?

When you were laid down on the bed and tugged in, your clothes were magically changed to clean ones comfortable for sleeping soundly. “You’re leaving when I fall asleep… I just know it…”

The urge can’t be ignored. Alastor spent too long waiting and he is ready. “Well, if you agree, we can be together forever.”

“We’ll be back again?”

“Yes. If you shake my hand and wear this.” Alastor showed you a familiar band of gold. He kept it all these years, when he could first go to Earth due to your soul being binded to his, he searched high and low for it. 

Your confused and tired mind honed in on the ring. A familiar and comforting thing you given up, tears swell and a hand reached for it. “We’ll be back? Alastor…”

“Yes.”

“Okay…”

When your eyes opened, you were met with a major headache and an unfamiliar room. Looking around, you tried to get your bearings. While you did, you tried to remember what happened. Was this some stranger’s home? You immediately lifted up the blanket and looked under, sighing when that didn’t seem to have happened in your drunken state

You finally took in your surroundings. It wasn’t unfamiliar now, it was nostalgic. A replica of the appearance of what was your shared bedroom with Alastor when you two were still playing house. You shook your head, expecting all this to be your hallucination

Yet it didn’t fade back to what was supposed to be your bedroom. Confusion and fear set in. As did the memories of last night. What happened? Did you hallucinate Alastor appearing and saving you? But that didn’t look like Alastor. That can’t be Alastor. A monster. A demon. That’s what it was

Though Alastor was the only one to make you feel that at peace and calm and relaxed. The voice was his, just with an odd radio filter

The door to the room opened and the Alastor you met last night appeared in your sights. He closed the door behind him, smiling, “Welcome home, Dear Wife of mine.”

As Alastor had sworn, he brought you to Hell. You were his and he was yours. Try to run and it won’t be successful. For the two of your souls are bound together.

Note: I'mma out of ideas for this one, so before you ask for a part 3. Just know that the likelihood of it happening is very very rare since I got other series that's more active now. There could be trivia or asks, that's what I consider to be extra parts to this one.

Circe Y. 

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @chirimeimei @gameperson23100 @marukun @belletifeshyl @craftyperfectiontragedy

[reidsaurora]

Can you do height difference + "one more kiss? please?" with Hotch? Pretty pretty please with Mick Mars on top? <3 - V

hmmm i wonder who this could be 🤔😉

"Coffee + Kisses" ~ A. Hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x wife!reader

summary: "mornings were made for coffee and kisses. at least, that was aaron's philosophy."

word count: 740

warnings: a single swear word, mentions of food, that's literally it

genre: tooth-rotting fluff, quite literally with all the sugar references in this blurb

extra notes: the aaron icon in the collage is by @ssa-sapphic (edited to fit theme better!) and the dividers below are by @firefly-graphics

masterlist | kissing prompts | ask box

mornings were made for coffee and kisses. at least, that was aaron's philosophy.

most people looked at the stoic figure that was aaron hotchner and assumed he was brash and hubristic, emotions on a completely different plane of existence from his physical form. but you? his trophy wife? no, you got to see every hidden layer underneath his apathetic walls, your own little personal slice of heaven.

so while most people assumed aaron's mornings were spent with his nose buried in the newspaper, black coffee in hand, they couldn't be further from the truth. this man was all homemade iced lattes, sugary cereals, and good morning kisses.

that last one may or may not be how you ended up here, nearly ten minutes late for work, coat and purse still hanging up by the door, one shoe on and the other nowhere to be seen.

"i have to get up," you'd told him. "unlike you, i unfortunately have to work on saturdays."

but when he gave you that look, that sweet pout that made even a grown man look innocent, you couldn't say no. one kiss turned into two turned into three, kisses turned into five minutes of snuggles, and now you were here, rushing around the house and tracking down your missing heel like a modern day cinderella.

"aaron, have you seen-"

as if on cue, the man—still sporting his pajamas and bedhead, his chin dark with a five-o'clock shadow—rounded the corner, missing heel in hand. "sammy apparently needed a snack," he chuckled, bending down and putting the shoe on for you. he stood back up to full height, somehow still towering over you, even with your extra three inches of artificial height.

"sammy needs a stern talking to for stealing his mama's shoes," you kidded, tossing your arms over his shoulders. even you wondered how aaron, the seemingly heartless man that he was, fell in love with the tiny ball of fluff that had apparently stolen your shoe.

"i'll definitely be in contact with him," he joked, pulling you up for a soft kiss. he tasted like cinnamon toast crunch, a strange juxtaposition from the manly smell of his deodorant, but not an unpleasant one. suddenly, you worried about what your own breath tasted like, making a mental note to eat a couple tic-tacs on the way to work just in case.

you forced yourself to pull away, being met with a disapproving pout from the man above you. to anyone else, his height might've made him seem intimidating, but you knew aaron was nothing but a gentle giant, akin to a teddy bear in human form. "i have to go," you reminded him, still not having unlinked your arms from around him.

"just one more kiss?" he said, his bottom lip jutting out like a child in a toy store. "please?"

and who were you to deny him, the absolute love of your life, just one more kiss? despite the logical part of your brain telling you not to give in, the absolutely smitten part of your brain won, practically telling the other part to go to hell.

you leaned up once again, your lips locking with his for one last, sweet, good morning kiss. his palms settled on your hips, holding you as close as possible, a gentle gesture in hopes of changing your mind about going to work that day. and little did he know, you were close, oh so close, to calling in sick. to making up a fake family emergency. to just saying, "sorry, i simply don't feel like it."

but in the end, you knew it was for the best to suck it up and go to work anyway. after all, the time spent apart only made the moments together that much more special, that much more worth it. "i have to go, love."

he gave you one last peck, releasing his hold from your hips. "fine, i'll just be here," he said, falling back on the couch dramatically, "longing for you, my dear."

you giggled at the sight of this grown man acting like a character in a shakespeare play. "you're so dramatic," you commented, heading for the door.

not having moved from where he lay after his performance, he shouted, "love you too!"

"love you more!" you called back, closing the door behind you swiftly. you shook your head, giggling. what were you going to do with him?

-> taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @the-lucky-ones311 @mercuryvapours @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @paintlavillered @lavhoes @rhyanishere @namorswhore @danielle143 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @bbbbbbbbbbbbbbl @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahargrove @cwritesforfun @maelartasch @lover-of-books-and-tea @juismissing

[auroravictorium]

vigilante shit (k.b.)

Summary: set nearly two years before the events of midnights, reader is fighting for survival in ketterdam after escaping her indenture contract before it can be stamped. after a confrontation with a few merchants, a certain bastard of the barrel arrives and offers her a deal that may ensure her survival in the city.

Pairing(s): kaz brekker x reader (eventually) Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: violence (stabbing, bludgeoning, shoving, reader killing four people), blood, injuries (dislocated shoulder, stab wounds, cuts, gashes, etc.), numerous mentions of indentured servitude (reader escaping this, exploitation of indentures in the city, etc.) Genre: action and lil angst Author's Note: rue publishing a new part just a few days after the last one?? who IS she?? anyway, here is reader's backstory + how she and kaz met :)) this will be important for the next part (back in the present) because it'll be mentioned, so i'm choosing to share this one first for lore purposes

masterlist

Summer in Ketterdam was unbearable. The near-constant cloud cover trapped the heat low, threatening to make residents collapse as they made their daily commutes and errands. Bright costumes of the West Stave stuck to the skin of their wearers. Good-for-nothing bureaucrats dabbed at their foreheads and pulled at their collars, trying desperately to find relief from the heat. Even gangsters had halted their usual brawls in the streets, preferring to drink themselves into a stupor until dusk arrived or avail themselves of whatever cool water could be found.

As the government ceased its already pitiful operations due to the heat, and gangsters took the day off, the city lapsed into a sleepy state. You took advantage of the sluggishness, ducking through the streets of the Financial District and nimbly swiping what you could as you went. Wallets, loose jewelry, colorful kruge poking out of pockets. Everyone was too hot to notice the thief among them, and those who did a few moments later didn't bother to give chase.

Finally, you heard a bell chime seventeen times in the distance. The Exchange was closed for the day, and merchants would be making their way home with bulging wallets and smug faces. Perfect.

You headed north, disappearing into the crowds of merchants and regular citizens alike and searching for wide eyes or furrowed brows, darting glances, and those who kept to themselves. New merchants, unaware of the dangers of being near the Exchange after it closed. 

A few merchants trailed toward the Geldstraat, packets of papers in their hands with thick red seals at the top that you would recognize anywhere—indenture paperwork. From the looks of it, each man held a dozen fresh indentures in his hands, ready to be stamped to confirm the transfer of a human being from one bastard’s hands to the next.

Yet, moving in the opposite direction, a lone merchant with a poorly-tailored coat and bulging pockets filled with colorful kruge that needed to be deposited.

Freedom, or the funds that could make a difference in whether you made it to the end of the week.

If you were wise but heartless, you'd chase the lone man and tackle him once he was out of sight of the Exchange. Ketterdam had a way of ripping the soul from a person, making them make the worst decisions for survival.

But you'd almost been one of those indentures, had your name on one of those papers that almost got stamped. You'd been just blocks from the courthouse, huddled in a clunky carriage with five other women when you'd gotten the courage to stab the driver through the small window with the sharpened edge of a piece of cutlery you'd swiped.

One moment, you'd been stuck in that carriage, passing over a cobbled bridge. The next, you had those bloodstained papers in your hand, snatched from the inside of the driver’s coat pocket, and were running. You ran until you felt your lungs would give out, until you were sure the dots in your vision would turn to full-blown darkness and you’d collapse right there in the street amongst garbage and empty bottles.

But you'd made it. You'd disappeared into the Barrel, tossed the papers in a rubbish bin, and lit it on fire. Partially an act of self-preservation, partially an act of helping the indentures who'd scrambled out of the carriage after you. Had they made it? You didn't know. You hoped so. 

Thinking of the women who’d been taken into Ketterdam with you made something spark in your chest. Swearing under your breath, you wove through crowds of merchants and market prodigies and started to trail the group of merchants heading toward the Geldstraat. Conversations of auctions, trade deals, and under-the-counter offers flowed in one ear and out the other. At any other time, those conversations would catch your interest; but you’d set your mind to something, could feel an urgency running beneath your skin like electricity, and the words passed in and out of your ears without sticking.

These damned merchants walked fast, even in the heat, and you soon made your way onto the packed Geldstraat. Glancing around for an opportunity to gain some leverage–a rooftop would be nice, or a distraction–you found none. This was the part of the city reserved for the wealthy; clean and filled with well-dressed residents who eyed you as you passed by in your loose-fitting tunic and well-worn trousers. Your boots were in an even worse condition, and you felt the ridges and dips in the cobblestones beneath your feet as you tried your best to look inconspicuous.

The Government District was fast approaching as you headed north, and your time to swipe these papers was running out. Fuck it.

As the mouth of the Geldstraat opened up to let people pour into the Government District, you made your move, darting forward and to the right of one of the merchants; as you passed, you yanked hard on his pocketwatch, pulling it from his pocket with enough force that he definitely noticed. “Oy!” he shouted, reaching for you in an attempt to apprehend you, or maybe grab the pocketwatch dangling from your hand. “Thief!”

You skirted to the side, high-tailing it back toward an alleyway you’d passed not thirty seconds ago. There’d been something metallic on the ground–a piece of pipe, you hoped–that caught what little sun came through the clouds and reflected it.

Boots pounded against the ground behind you, sending a rush of adrenaline through your body, enough to stave off the sluggishness of your muscles from the heat. Come get me, you son of a bitch, you thought, your legs burning as you skidded into the alleyway and scooped the object you’d seen from the ground: a rusty, jagged piece of drainpipe that had fallen from the edge of one of the roofs. It was perfect, especially since you had yet to acquire a better weapon than the flimsy dagger strapped to your hip and wanted to keep these bastards as far away from you–an eligible person to be indentured if they got their hands on you, as far as they were concerned–as possible.

You barely had enough time to survey it to decide which end would be better for bludgeoning before the sound of pounding boots caught up to you, and you adjusted your sweaty grip on the metal and faced the mouth of the alley as four tall shadows blocked it.

The merchants were bigger than they looked when you’d trailed them, and you recognized their clothing as being Fjerdan, rough material that did little to keep them cool in this heat. Oh, fantastic. Leave it to me to pick a fight with some wannabe Druskelle.

But their height gave you an advantage, one you’d quickly learned to utilize in the few months you’d been on the streets: being taller made them slower. And, judging from the lack of bulges at their waists and ankles, they were unarmed. 

Tall and dumb; your day was starting to look up.

The merchant you’d robbed stuffed his papers into his coat pocket. “I believe you have something that belongs to me,” he said, his accent thick as he spoke. His eyes fell to the pipe in your hand, then the pocketwatch dangling out of your pocket. “If you hand it back now, I’ll reconsider how much I rough you up.”

“You should have armed yourself before making threats you won’t be able to follow through on,” you shot back. Your voice was remarkably steady, even as you were realizing there was a good chance at least one of them would land a strike on you while you were trying to get their papers. You wouldn’t be walking out of this uninjured, but when had you ever escaped a fight without scrapes and bruises? Such was the nature of the city. It took, and it took, and it took until its people had nothing left to give aside from their bones.

And this cause had settled itself on your shoulders like a weight you couldn’t shake. So let Ketterdam have your bones, but only after you wiped these bastards out first.

The merchant lunged, and you swung the pipe. The weight was unnatural in your hand, and you couldn’t get a good grip on it; but the pipe landed true, smashing into the merchant’s skull with a sickening crack as the other three rushed toward you. One of them took a detour, catching his comrade as he crumpled to the filthy ground, while the other two went straight for you. 

You swung the pipe like a bat, bashing it into one’s stomach and making him hunch over before whirling to land a hit on the other. You didn’t have enough momentum to do lethal damage, but the very edge of the pipe made a long cut across your new foe’s face. Redness bloomed on the skin, and blood seeped down; his progress was slowed, but not stopped.

He shoved you back against a brick wall, and the impact knocked the breath from your lungs. Son of a– Your muscles burned as you gasped, pain rocketing up and down your spine, and your grip on the pipe almost loosened.

Almost.

The man tried to wrench it from your grasp, taking advantage of your breathlessness, but you kept ahold of it. “Give it,” he growled, yanking the pipe hard enough to make your shoulder pop as you fought to keep possession of it. Pain shot up and down your arm, and you were forced to release the pipe as your shoulder popped out of place.

You swore in pain, tears pricking your eyes and your good hand dropping to your belt and unsheathing your dagger before twisting it in your hand and jabbing it as hard as you could toward the man’s chest while he grabbed at the pipe. It drove home, embedding in an upward angle beneath his ribcage; it wasn’t perfect, and you were sure it wasn’t a lethal blow, but it caused the man to stagger back and drop to his knees. You ripped the blade from his chest and the pipe from his hand, pausing only to stomp your foot down over the wound hard enough for a few ribs to crack.

He cried out in anger, writhing against the ground, but you didn’t have time to savor the noise before another merchant was on you, the one you’d bashed in the stomach with the pipe.

With the dagger in your good hand and the pipe in your limp one, you dodged his attempt to punch you. The heat pressed down on you, and sweat soaked through your clothing as you and the merchant circled each other around his comrade on the ground. The one you’d initially hit was still being worked on by his companion; apparently, the pipe had done more damage than you’d thought, which filled you with a twisted sense of satisfaction.

The last merchant standing launched himself at you, and you dodged, slamming your injured shoulder against the opposite wall with a hard enough impact that something crunched. The pipe dropped from your hand again, and you were forced to let it fall for good. Leaning to grab it would be a death sentence.

Well…

You ducked slightly, letting the merchant think you’d gone for the pipe, only to twist at the last moment and slash the dagger across his chest in a wide arc. Blood bloomed beneath his beige tunic, and you slashed again as he stumbled in pain. More blood splattered, sliding down the blade of your knife and onto the handle, making your hand slick with red. It was warm, unpleasantly so, and your stomach twisted with nausea.

No matter how long you were in the city, you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to the feeling of someone else’s blood on your skin.

The merchant cried out as you drove the knife through his throat, cutting the noise off with a nauseating gurgle. He slumped to the ground, nearly falling onto you, and you stumbled out of the way to avoid it. A hand grabbed at your ankle, and you toppled onto the merchant you’d stabbed earlier.

Grunting, you pushed yourself away, skin scraping against gravel and glass shards on the alleyway ground, and grabbed your blade, driving it down into his chest one more time. Without your bad arm, you couldn’t hold yourself steady. Or maybe it was the adrenaline wearing off that caused the trembles. You weren’t sure. Either way, you managed to gasp out, “For them,” before staggering to your feet once more to handle the final merchant who was tending to the now-dead man you’d robbed.

“The indentures,” you rasped as you approached, your knees shaking as pain took hold. It was getting harder to stay upright, especially with the heat weighing you down and making the pain feel ten times worse. “Where are they?”

“I-I don’t–” the merchant began, his voice wobbling. 

“Shall I help you remember?”

Your boot made contact with the merchant’s face, and something crunched with the impact. His nose, judging by the way he toppled over and cupped his face. A sob passed his lips, but you didn’t stop your advance. 

“I won’t ask again,” you said, stopping over the man as he lay on the ground, nearly curled in a fetal position. Your heart raced in your ears, loud enough to almost drown out the next words that left your mouth. “Where are they?”

“Warehouse district,” he sobbed, trembling as you stopped before him. “One of the big ones owned by one of the–one of the councilmen.”

That was all you needed to hear.

You could have left him alive. Could have let him scramble to his feet and leave the alleyway to report what had happened to one of the pigs that called themselves the Stadwatch, not that they’d do anything. Could have let him recuperate and return to the Exchange in a few days with too much pride to admit a girl on the streets had briefly held his life in his hands.

But you thought of those indentures, probably trafficked, waiting in the warehouse for news that their lives had been determined for them. You remembered the fear you’d felt after being captured and taken into the city with several other women your age, women whose fates were unknown after you’d been forced to leave them behind in a bid for survival. You remembered the desperation as you’d ground that piece of cutlery against the stone floor in your holding room, sharpening it into something that would free you.

You thought of them, and you dropped to your knees, driving the knife into his throat hard enough that you faced some resistance once the hilt met flesh. The man’s sobs went quiet. His body twitched, his eyes rolling for a moment before going still. His chance to live disappeared as quickly as that.

Though you longed to sit back, to collapse into the ground and catch your breath, you feared two things. One, you wouldn’t be able to get back up. Two, the Stadwatch would find you and have you hauled to jail. You’d managed to avoid it thus far, but today was not the day you wanted your luck to change. Not when you had a job to complete.

Numbly, you searched the men, one by one, until you collected all of the paperwork and kruge you could find from their bodies. Dozens of indenture contracts, a few hastily scribbled receipts from transactions at the Exchange, and a few notes recording debts to be paid. 

The contracts needed to be burned. The rest could be thrown away; let someone find them and wonder what happened to the bastards who’d written them.

As you collected your dagger and wiped it off on the tunic of the man you’d robbed, the hair on the back of your neck prickled uncomfortably. It wasn’t from the heat, nor from your conscience being stirred into an upset at what you’d just done. No, someone was watching you. 

You turned your gaze to the rooftops, slowly turning on your heel as you searched for the source of that gaze. It wasn’t threatening; if it was, the person would have attacked. It was merely surveillance. Soon, you spotted a shadow pressed against a chimney, one that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps more obviously, the shadow moved, slinking closer to the edge of the roof before grabbing hold of the remaining pipe along the edge and swinging itself over as if on someone’s signal.

You stumbled back toward the mouth of the alley and raised your dagger, but the person made no move to attack. The figure was short and slim, and you saw wayward hairs peeking out from beneath their hood; a woman. Another person trying to survive on the streets? No, she was too well-dressed for that, with new-ish shoes, and clothes that fit with no visible tears or stains.

The woman didn’t approach, and you continued taking slow steps back, hoping to get out of the alley before the woman changed her mind and tried to stab you. I don’t think I can take down another person, you thought, least of all her, with at least five daggers strapped to her that you could see; you were willing to be that there were more.

There were soft footsteps near the mouth of the alleyway, followed by a tapping between each step, the sound of wood against the cobblestones. Your heartbeat picked right back up again, and you swiveled, pressing your back to the alley wall as another figure stepped into the mouth of the alleyway and blocked your escape.

The horrendous hat on his head made you think it was an officer with the Stadwatch, but the face beneath that hat was one of a boy no older than you. His skin was pale, drawn across angular cheekbones that cast sharp shadows down his face in the poor amount of sunlight filtering through the clouds. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you felt them; they pierced you with ease, scrutinized you, and evaluated everything from your messy hair to the blood soaked into your boots. They settled on the limpness of your arm for a moment, and you fought the urge to hide it behind your back.

“You’re a difficult person to track down, Y/N L/N,” the boy said, his voice raspy like sandpaper hissing across unfinished wood. His tone was devoid of humor. Instead, he spoke with a bluntness that told you this was merely business for him. A business that somehow involved him knowing your name.

You clamped your mouth shut, fighting the urge to ask how he knew your name. You were getting the sense that you didn’t want to know the source of that information, though you were willing to bet it was the woman standing just feet away from you. “Is that so?” you said instead, keeping your voice as steady as you could.

You were cornered, and you didn’t like that at all. Your skin itched with the urge to make a run for it, to shove this boy out of the way and bolt as far as your legs could take you. You’d done it before, had escaped from that carriage and gotten to this point. But this boy reeked of danger, of power, of a willingness to be cruel, if need be. He was not someone you wanted to make an enemy with.

The boy shifted his weight, twirling the head of the cane in his hand with a precision that told you he’d been using it for a while. That piercing gaze left you for a moment, and you assumed he was examining the damage you’d done to the four merchants in the alleyway. He was silent for a few long moments, then spoke again. “Aren’t you supposed to be serving one of the councilmen at his residence right now?”

Your blood turned to ice. He knew you were supposed to be an indenture. He knew you were not where you were supposed to be. He could turn you in, could get you taken back into custody for your paperwork to finally be stamped. Somewhere, there had to be a copy of your indenture paperwork. Just my luck.

“Come to collect me, have you?” Somewhere alongside your shock and terror was anger. Your knuckles tightened on the hilt of your dagger like you might throw it at the boy, and you saw the girl with the hood shift her fingers ever so slightly toward a dagger at her waist. Definitely allies.

“No.”

“So, you’ll let me leave the alley and go on my merry way after you finish making poorly disguised threats?”

“No.”

Throwing the dagger was looking more and more tempting if only you could ignore the fact that you’d also get a dagger to the chest if you did so. You were in enough pain as it was. “State your business, then,” you said, trying to keep your chin held high as you struggled to puzzle this out. This boy had power and allies, that was clear. But who was he, and why did you get the sense that you should know who he was?

“I’ve heard some of the chaos you’ve caused,” the boy said, tapping his cane against the ground a few times, almost impatiently. “A string of robberies on the outskirts of the Barrel, pickpocketing after the Exchange closes for the day, a few brawls here and there.”

“How can you possibly attribute those to me?” you said, though every word he’d spoken was true. The Barrel was rife with crime; nobody batted an eyelash at robberies anymore, and reporting them to the Stadwatch was useless. That was gang territory, and everyone knew it.

The boy tilted his head, ignoring your question. “Now, I’m curious why you’ve graduated to murder. These men are merchants?” He nudged a limp hand with his boot. “It’s quite a jump, petty crimes to killing.”

“You speak as if you know from experience.”

He ignored you again. “I have a deal for you, Y/N.”

“I don’t make deals with strangers, especially not those who particularly enjoy hearing themselves talk.” Your words were short and deadpan, but you noticed the hooded girl’s shoulders shake slightly with silent laughter. The prickling gaze that had been on you disappeared for a moment, likely to direct a glare at the girl, and it returned to you twice as sharp as before.

“Have you heard of the Dregs?” the boy asked, tapping his cane against the ground again as if this was all a tedious chore for him. You didn’t bother answering, because he proceeded on anyway. “We control a wide area of the Barrel, and the Dime Lions and a few smaller groups control the rest, which I’m sure you know since you’ve only robbed from disputed areas where you think nobody can catch you.”

“But you have caught me, and now you’re here to enact justice,” you said. Some mocking seeped into your voice before you could stop it, and the boy sighed in exasperation. If he was concerned about getting you to agree to whatever deal he had in store, he had to realize he wasn’t earning much approval from you.

“No. I see a use for you, and I want to capitalize on it.” The boy rolled his shoulders back and tightened his gloved fingers on the head of his cane. “In exchange, you’ll have a roof over your head and get paid for each job.”

Some of your desire to be sarcastic disappeared when he mentioned housing and wages. You couldn’t deny how tempting that was; to have a roof over your head instead of fabric wrapped around you when the rain came down would be bliss, and to have an income you could regularly count on? You’d feel like the wealthiest girl in Ketterdam, like getting taken to the city had been a good thing.

“What type of jobs?” you finally said, not wanting to agree so quickly. You refused to exchange one terrible contract for another. Ketterdam could make the worst situations appear like a blessing from the Saints themselves if you didn’t ask the right questions as to their nature. 

“Robberies, mostly. Tracking leads on opportunities for kruge. Working shifts at the Crow Club in between.” He tightened his grip on the head of his cane again as if he could tell that you were considering his offer. “At the very worst, you’ll be taking out those who threaten my business. Dime Lions, mainly, but you seem to be quite comfortable with the idea of murder.”

Dregs. Crow Club. My business.

Recognition struck you. You remembered hearing about a shift in power in the Dregs that happened just before you arrived in Ketterdam. The leader, Per Haskell, had been ousted by his lieutenant, a boy called Dirtyhands. Saints, what was his name? The whispers rarely mentioned it, as if he had ears everywhere and could strike at any moment. From the tales you’d heard, you wouldn’t be surprised if he could; they’d been enough to deter you from robbing anywhere in territory firmly controlled by the Dregs. He’d been right about that, just like everything else about you.

“How often do you personally recruit people to your cause, Kaz Brekker?” you said, unhitching yourself from the wall. Slowly, you held up your dagger before making a show of sliding it back into the sheathe at your waist. The hooded girl who’d been watching you and the boy size each other up relaxed, dropping her hand from the dagger she’d been prepared to grab.

Kaz Brekker’s lips quirked upward on one side, a half smile indicating he knew exactly what you’d just been thinking. “Only when they serve my interests,” he said. “Do we have a deal?”

“Only if it serves my interests,” you said, and you thought you saw the ghost of approval cross the parts of Brekker’s face that you could see. You grabbed the stack of indenture paperwork from where you’d propped it under your bad arm and held it up, showing the vivid red stamp to Brekker and his companion. “These people are being held in the Warehouse District, awaiting their indenture notice. I want them released.”

You expected a long silence to stretch between the two of you. It was a bold move for you to make a demand as part of your deal, especially since Brekker made it clear it was a rarity for him to bother recruiting people personally. But, to your surprise, Brekker nodded once.

“Alright,” he said. He held out his hand, and you took a few steps forward to pass the paperwork into his gloved fingers. He skimmed the pages briefly before tucking them into his black coat. “Did these men tell you which warehouse?”

You cast a glance toward the last one you’d killed, frowning slightly. “One owned by a councilman. He wasn’t more specific.” 

Brekker didn’t seem bothered by the limited information. Instead, he only nodded once toward the hooded girl who had observed all this. “Inej, see what you can find. I’ll escort our new recruit back to the Slat.”

Inej disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived, effortlessly climbing back up the wall and onto the rooftop before darting off without making a single sound. You watched her go, feeling awe burn in your chest as she disappeared without a trace. How long had it taken her to master that? Would she teach you, if you asked? She radiated such quiet power, and you wondered if the new mess you’d found yourself in would teach you just the same.

Kaz Brekker jerked his head back toward the alleyway entrance. “Let’s go. I don’t fancy having to deal with Stadwatch when they find the bodies.” He turned on his heel and strode off without another word, his cane tapping lightly against the ground as he went. He didn’t bother to wait for you or make sure you were following. 

Another chance to back out, to reconsider joining the Dregs and binding yourself to a gang known for its leader's brutality. But maybe… Maybe the Dregs could give you some leverage and a better chance of survival in the city. You would no longer be fighting for enough food to make it through the week, would no longer be considered on the run; you could wipe your past clean and destroy whatever copy of your indenture paperwork Brekker had found that could come back to bite you and start over. 

And the thought of starting over, of becoming someone new, was enough to make you follow after one of the most dangerous people in Ketterdam.

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[oleicim]

i wanna be a hayakawa child too pls can u write gn reader living with aki denji and power (mainly focusing on aki being a dad cuz it's funny to me LMAOO) and if you feel like it can the reader be a bit younger than denji and power maybe 14-15? just some random kid they picked off the streets and who aspires to be a devil hunter like aki

PART OF THE FAMILY

PAIRS: p!denji hayakawa x reader ,, p!power hayakawa x reader ,, & p!aki hayakawa x reader

WARNINGS: mention of starvation and uncleanliness ,, angsty attributes overall. reference to suicide, but not detailed at all-no character death. poor self-esteem (aki)

CIELO'S NOTE: this is so over the place but i hope its still okay!! there is no makima in this okay so we are all happy and living together in #peace because thats what everyone deserves... i seriously need to start proofreading

ONE ASSUMPTION MANY SHARED ON WHAT TYPE OF PERSON AKI HAYAKAWA WAS THAT HE WAS HEARTLESS. he seemed so, with that stoic expression and nonchalance of his in many situations where he should’ve shown distraught. but aki was the direct opposite of everything that word conveyed, all the antonyms of it gathered because aki wasn’t heartless, he was compassionate, just discreetly so.

although when the rumors of aki being heartless were asked to him, he’d say he was. it was only because he truly dreamt of being that disconnected from the world so he could just feel the immense pain and sorrow that continuously flooded his veins every minute of the day just disperse just for a second. but even this plain out rejection of the true caring quality he had; it could never be erased. as much as he agreed to the rumors and attempted to force this indifference people assumed of him, he did a number of selfless actions in the shadows that would always prove that he just couldn’t be that person.

so, even as he tried to still yet again close himself off from being humane, he couldn’t help but feel that familiar quality of caring when he had saw your malnourished body shivering in the alleyway. you were just a kid, younger looking than the idiots he’s grown to love. your eyes gleaming still, and it guffawed him that you still had that light in your eyes.

seeing you also reminded him of himself, when the gun devil massacre occurred and had left him as lonely and shivering as you were now. that’s what ultimately led him to stretch out his hand towards you. he wouldn’t allow anyone suffer the same fate he had been bestowed of, not when he has the choice to prevent that. he took the part as your sort of saving angel, despite his personal belief that he was still more of a corrupted being.

he told you then that you could only stay with him till you could pick yourself up, ideally a week to get some food in you and hydrate as well as bathe. but that week ultimately turned into two weeks, then three to four until it turned into months and to the point where the days are still counting.

you’ve got a drawer of clothes in aki’s dresser now, pair of shoes fitted in-between the space of denji’s and aki’s at the front door. you even have your own home slippers, a different color from the rest of the residents in the hayakawa household.

you were part of the family.

now it wasn’t hard to warm up to power, and in a short time you both were so close she said you will be her right-hand when she becomes president, learning that the role she deemed for you is actually called vice-president from a tired aki during dinner.

she's certainly overwhelming, with her shameless antics and loud boasts, but you don’t mind. it's better than the loneliness the streets gave you.

she uses you as her alibi or brings you in when she gets a scolding from aki so you could defend her, and because aki blatantly has shown that he favors you more than others she always gets off the hook.

besides that, “abuse” which aki calls it, power has her own way of doting on you and showing she does truly care, such as throwing out your vegetables during meals, so you won't endure its “nastiness” (that's what she says.)

she lets you play with meowy, and there are times you two and the kitty fall asleep together on the sofa, which has become your favorite pastime. power is unbelievably warm, and oddly soft to the touch. she crawls and latches onto you like a koala, and cradles you like she’s protecting you from the outside world. she lets you in on pranks and dangerous activities that lead aki to give her another scolding, and a firm warning to you.

denji is different, but not in a bad way. he at first was annoying and rejected you, but that was till he learned why you live with them, and then he started to warm up because you also reminded him of himself. he treats you now like power, doting on you with a faux annoyance at first to the action. he bathes you if you're too tired, and lets you poke and prod him and gives you a goodnight kiss on the forehead before you slip in the sheets of aki’s bed for the night.

he honestly looks after you more than he does for himself, making sure you're fine and well before he thinks about what he needs to do for him. that ends in late nights where he comes back from a mission and is so exhausted and weak that you help him swallow down a meal aki cooked earlier, as he hadn't eaten in many hours but made sure he begged aki to make dinner your favorite meal before he left.

what he does for you makes you choke back a sob at night when you think about it and how truly kind he is at heart.

but neither the softhearted but unhinged siblings of yours could take the place of aki’s as your favorite out of everyone in the unofficial family. aki hayakawa gave you everything, the normalcy of a domestic life that you were sure you wouldn't have been able to gain back out in the dirty alleyways. no one can ever top the amount of gratitude and admiration you have for the stoic man.

there’s also something special about how aki treats you, it's a contrast from how he is perceived. he treats you softly. you at times have to pout and tell him you're not a toddler because of how gentle he is, which he always gives out a breath of a laugh and a ghost of a smile in response.

he buys you anything you see, within certain extents, when he brings you out with him for mundane things like grocery shopping. and even then, any expensive item you like will end up in a couple weeks' time in a gift bag by your side of the bed.

theres also the fact of when you first came to live with them, and when everyone, including yourself, warmed up, he learned how to braid your hair. he wanted to help you out, as your hair had grown out a lot from the amount of time of you were out there. he learned the simple braid and that was your hairstyle till he reluctantly picked up scissors and watched a video on the decided hairstyle you wanted, even buying other products to keep up the maintenance your hair needed.

he was ultimately the father figure you dreamt of on those cold nights on concrete, and you couldn't have asked for anyone better so that's why even with denji’s selfless acts and power’s constant love nagging he still remained your favorite. even with his grumpy and nonchalant attitude, you loved him.

and aki equally loved you, so hearing your new boasts of how you wanted to be just like him made his heart stop and his breathing hitch. it was quite clear that aki didn't have a great self-image of himself, he was a man previously living solely on avenging his family, he was rage and depression bottled up and living on the brink of breaking, until you and the others came along. but that inner turmoil still left its fragments inside of him, and aki didn't ever want you to feel or be the same way as him. he doesn't want you to endure the mornings where he has to remember he has people that truly care for him now, that he has people to live for, to protect, so he won’t make a life altering decision.

he knows your words come from a good heart, aki knows that you see him as your savior and he feels a little better at the thought of being a saint to someone such as you. but he still grimaces internally when you state you’ll be as great as him, he loves you so much that it hurts in good and bad ways when he hears your idolization. he’s not what you think, he tells himself, but you do. you’ve grown to know who he is underneath that tough facade and still continue to want to be like him.

you admire his strength for what he has endured, and want to be like him in that aspect. you want your compassionate quality to be as large as his so you could help people like he helped you. he’s your favorite, through in and out and you want to be everything he is.

this all brought you here, standing in front of the television and blocking the comedic show from your unofficial siblings and father figure. they all stared at you, denji’s brows furrowed with an open jaw that you guess is about to let out an annoyed question to what you're doing, whilst power just stared at you with the same intensity denji had, while aki just bored his attention onto you.

“hey! what are you-”

before he could finish the sentence, you had predicted to note, you looked straight at aki, a newfound determination set on your features as you clenched your fists.

“i wanna be a devil hunter jus’ like you!”

your words reverberated against the walls of the apartment, and you could see the eyes of aki and denji widen in reaction, but to your surprise you could see more shock coming from aki. you had thought about this decision for a while, your admiration blossoming for aki as each day passes and it's become so overwhelming that you couldn't just not take an actual step towards being just like him.

denji smirked, puffing his chest as he let out a sigh. “ah, i knew you’d want to be as good as me!” he exclaimed, and your own brows furrowed, and you drifted your attention from aki towards your brother who took the direction of your statement to himself. “what!? not you, idiot!!!!” you rebutted, which resulted in an obnoxious laugh from power, her body falling to the floor as she held her stomach and kicked her legs, spurting out words of insults to denji as he started to argue with power in frustrated embarrassment.

the bickering got louder as the two started to fight, and you chose to ignore them like always and looked back at the stunned aki. the man sat there still with crossed legs, but his gaze seems clouded as he was lost in thought.

“aki?” you said, moving to sit down on the floor next to him, his glossed over eyes moving with you as he kept his stare on you. the man then blinked, once, twice, before he seemed to snap out of his world.

aki knew you’d eventually start to take steps towards your admiration, but not this soon. it was endearing and scary and oh so overstimulating to think about your decision. but he knew you long enough that the determination of yours could never die out, the proof being the light that still gleamed in your eyes on that day he found you.

“really? are you sure?...” his words are soft but had a firm tone, and his seeming acceptance to your words throw you off a bit. you nod after a few beats of silence between you two, the bickers of your siblings drowning out in the background as you focused on the conversation with aki. “yes. i want to be jus’ like you aki.” you confirmed, and before he can refute that he isn't everything you say he is you speak again. “i wanna be able to be strong enough to protect people i love jus’ like you, to save others so they dont leave behind people who will be on the streets like me.” the explanation that falls off your lips made aki’s bustling mind quiet for seconds, your words being drunk in by him.

then, he nodded, slowly, then reached out, moving your body to rest against his side as your head found place in the crook of his neck and your body unconsciously melts into a cradle position beside him. his left hand stretches to rest on the arm that's tucked in front of your body, and the other is placed on top of your head. it was his last chance to properly shield you from the world before throwing you back in it.

“okay, we’ll start with basics, no devil contracts or actual battles just yet.”

CIELO'S SECRETS !!

aki legally adopted you so your last name is actually hayakawa! your siblings are still waiting to gain their actual hayakawa last name :P

i rewrote this 5 times and i still cant seem to like it >:( but this one was the best version! i liked writing about the siblings tee hee.

[gabessquishytum]

tw stepfamily fantasy, age difference. Human AU.

I promise this is Dreamling, stay with me lol

When Time dies, Night is eager to find herself a strapping young husband. Enter Hob, who has heard that the widow Endless is filthy rich. Don't get him wrong, Night IS a beautiful woman, but it's the money he's after. He charms her easily enough, and in less than 6 months they're married and living together in her huge mansion... it's only then that Hob gets to know her kids.

He knew she had 7 of them, of course, but, well, this is a lot. The eldest two seem well-adjusted enough, sort of, but they're early 20's and out of the house already? The youngest boy ran away from home and no one bothered to look for him. Del and Despair aren't getting any mental health care they seem to badly need. And then there's Desire and Dream.

Desire is beautiful and charming and smart as a whip, but they change sexual partners more often than most people do underwear and they're only 16. They love their twin but are awful to their other siblings and downright cruel to Dream.

And Dream... he's a piece of work, yes. But he's pretty. Just as pretty as his sibling, if not more. He's got a bratty cruelty that echoes Desire's but could still be corrected by a firm hand... He mocks Hob mercilessly for his humble origins and because Hob married for money, and to Dream's heartless mother of all people! He's so closed off to affection, shouts at Hob even while bursting into tears when Hob tells him Hob could at least be a friend to him, since 34 is a bit young to be a father figure to a teen. But oh, Hob can tell: this boy is so, so lonely. Dream wishes someone would take him, even if only for money...

Desire, of course, immediately figures out that Hob isn't actually in love with Night and promply tries to seduce him. Hob gently rejects them, of course, but they try again. And again. And again. And... well. And it's hard. It's really hard to resist them. They're really really beautiful, of course, and they're so good at this... but Hob's one braincell that's still getting blood knows better than to fuck a 16-year-old with that huge a cruel streak. That's just asking for trouble. And besides, Hob likes a challenge. Desire is just... too easy.

Dream, however... what a little temptation he is. He's so reserved. He tries to focus on his art. He tries to pay Hob little mind, but can't help to listen and smile at Hob's tales. He's gotten his heart broken more times than anyone should have any right to at his age, and is just as depressed as Despair and only marginally better at hiding it... Now, that's a challenge. And such an easy target at the same time. Seducing him would be so fun! Hob can just imagine how outraged Dream would be at first... but Hob can be convincing, and Dream so badly needs someone to want him. And Hob is so horny, with Desire touching him all day, whispering filth in his ear, trying to sext him and send him nudes. You see, Night has a pretty low libido, too low if you ask Hob, and Hob's hand is a poor substitute for sex with another person.

Hob doesn't want Night to divorce him, of course, so he's wary of looking for sex outside the house, afraid to get caught if he's out too long with no explanation (he doesn't need to work now after all) and he wouldn't stoop so low as to take advantage of the house staff...

Isn't it so convenient that Dream just turned 18?

-PA

(reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated)

Oh fuck oh FUCK this is hot. AND HEY PA ANON I MISSED YOU <333

Hob feels like he's living inside a powder keg, honestly. He thought that marrying for money and living a life of luxury would be wonderful, but now he even longs for a job that would just get him out of the house. He's trapped in horny hell and he's sure that he's going to do something terrible and/or stupid. As a last ditch attempt, he sweetly suggests to Night that the two of them could take a little vacation - just the two of them, to the gorgeous little tropical vacation spot that the family owns. Death and Destiny can watch over the kids, and Night can have a well deserved break!

Alas, she just smiles and kisses Hob’s cheek. Unfortunately she's far too busy for a holiday right now. But she encourages Hob to go and soak up the sun - he's starting to look pale and stressed, and she can't have her toyboy husband looking under the weather. Her one request is that Hob should take Dream with him. She's noticed that Dream and Desire's fights have been getting more and more serious recently, and she's tired of the screaming matches. Some time apart will be beneficial for the siblings. And it will make Night's life a lot quieter.

Hob can't backtrack now, so he agrees. And he's even more glad to get away, because when Desire finds out that Dream has been sent off on holiday with Hob, they throw an absolute fit. Naked. In Hob’s bedroom. Hob’s single braincell really needs to get out of there.

It's not like Dream is even pleased to be forcibly packed off on holiday with his "step-father". He spends the whole journey in snide silence, occasionally muttering under his breath about Hob being a total creep. (And he's right, because Hob is still shamefully horny about the beautiful 18 year old. He nearly embarrasses himself completely when Dream grabs his hand because they hit turbulence.)

But it's funny how you can hate someone and still want to fuck them. Older men were always Desire's territory, but Dream is starting to see the appeal. He's starting to think that his mother is a fool for letting Hob out of her sight. When he catches his first glimpse of Hob on the beach in his swimwear, Dream makes up his mind: he's going to be a bad person.

Hob fucks him for the first time on the beach-house balcony. There are stars above them, possibly - Dream doesn't really recall. He's sure that Hob recalls even less. He's desperate, primal, unhinged. He cums, and just keeps going until both of them are exhausted. Obviously somebody needs to take care of him properly, if this is how wound up he gets.

Well. The Endless family have always been fucked up. This is just another chapter in the story. Maybe Night will even be grateful to her son, for keeping her husband happy...

[superfan44]

Why Sora Should be Treated the Same as Superman (An Opinion Piece)

As I get older, I'm able to look at various fictional characters more closely, understanding more about why they're so iconic. A few years ago, I gained a renewed interest in the Kingdom Hearts franchise, seeing why so many people love its story, characters, and of course, its crossover element with Disney and Final Fantasy. I want to take a little look at the franchise's main protagonist, Sora, shed a light on him if you will. I feel you could draw some similarities between him and the DC Comics hero Superman (aka Kal-El, aka Clark Kent).

Now, I know this may seem like an odd comparison to some of you, but personally, I think it does kind of make sense when you think about it. Obviously these two have very different personalities, backstories, powers, and motivations that drive them. However, both are kindhearted, optimistic heroes from humble beginnings, with a strong sense of justice and morality. Not to mention a desire to help others and do the right thing.

Their respective actions certainly speak for themselves on that front, as they each go about it in their own unique way. In the comic book All-Star Superman, one issue sees him fighting a group of lizard men invading from the Earth's core. Then, in another issue, we see him stop a depressed teenage girl from stepping off a building, giving her comfort and support. Yes, he's got super strength and godlike powers, but he's also considerate, compassionate, and gentle enough to offer a helping hand whenever needed. Superman is a hero who inspires the best in all of us. He is, as filmmaker James Gunn once put it, kindness in a world that sees kindness as old fashioned. Even though he lives on a planet he wasn't born on, he still aspires to bring hope to that planet, providing them a light to show the way. Krypton made him the man of steel, but Earth made him human.

There are moments in the Kingdom Hearts series where we see a bit of that kindness mirrored in Sora as well. One minute he would be cutting down Heartless with his keyblade, the next he'll be enjoying good times with his friends, old and new. Whether it's dancing around with Rapunzel in the Kingdom of Corona, visiting Winnie the Pooh and his pals in the 100 Acre Wood, or helping to make Boo laugh in Monstropolis. He protects the world order and fights against the forces of evil, but he's also having fun along the way. There's a playfulness to Sora, a big smile on his face that warms people up inside. He's a brave young man who can easily form connections with anyone he comes across. There are still hardships to face, but he perseveres through it, showing that deep down, there is a light that never goes out. Even when it seems like he's on the verge of giving up, his friends are there to inspire him and lift him back up, just as he had done for them. He follows his heart, which is, and has always been, his guiding key.

You could say that these similarities are due to the fact that Sora and Superman are very much archetypal heroes. Joseph Cambel's hero's journey cycle (which also heavily influenced Star Wars) can be seen in both of their respective journeys. Individuals from humble beginnings who venture out into the wide world ahead of them, encountering various allies, enemies, and obstacles along the way. The journey ultimately leads to the heroes gaining greater powers and becoming more than who they were before.

It's also worth noting that another thing Superman and Sora have in common is that sometimes they are both willing to take great risks in order to save the people that they love. In Superman: The Movie, the man of steel himself flies around the Earth at great speed, turning back time to save Lois Lane from an earthquake. In Kingdom Hearts 3, Sora uses the power of waking to bring back Kairi after her body was destroyed by Xehanort, sacrificing his own life in the process.

So, why do I bring all of this up? Because I believe that this is something that writers should keep in mind when tackling Sora, whether it's for fan fiction, comics, novels, etc. I've noticed this trend on the internet of people deconstructing the psychology of Sora and delving into the negative effects that his adventures have had on him. A few of them have even declared his optimism and playful smile as a form of "toxic positivity". While it does seem like an interesting idea, I feel like it's causing people to forget about why they love him in the first place. In some cases, there are those who end up going too far with that notion.

Not long ago, I stumbled upon a Kingdom Hearts fan fiction story titled Keys to the Kingdom. Basically, it reads as an alternate universe reimagining of the events of Kingdom Hearts 3. Even though it was well written, this version of the story gets extremely dark, depressing, and cynical. Not only that, but it also mistreats Sora in a somewhat disturbing way, portraying him as a tortured and tormented soul. While his arc in this does prove to be compelling at times, it was still very jarring, making for an overall unpleasant experience. The fic seemed to be so focused on beating this character down, so intent on having him suffer throughout, that it ends up losing sight of what makes him so endearing and likable. Or, to borrow a quote from the young keyblade wielder himself:

"You're so caught up in finding the shadows, you forgot about the light that cast them."

This doesn't feel too out of place with the "evil Superman" trend that was around for a period of time. The video game Injustice is a prime example of this, as it depicts Superman as a merciless dictator of a fascist regime, who rules with an iron fist and shows no compassion towards crime or his enemies. Even other creations like Homelander from The Boys and Omni-Man from Invincible are representations of this idea since they are basically evil Superman-types. Admittedly, I do give those two a little more leeway since they were made specifically for the stories they came from. They are not directly related to Superman other than having similar powers. Although this concept can be fun to tackle with an original character, I don't think it feels right to try to do it with the genuine article himself. That's not really who he is.

When making the first Superman movie back in 1978, director Richard Donner took it upon himself to do the big blue boy scout justice. He didn’t want the material to be treated with disrespect, nor to be seen as a joke. There's a word he used to emphasize this as a top priority: "verisimilitude". For those unfamiliar, the basic definition of it is the appearance of being true and real. Not only was that word hung up on the wall above Donner's office (which it was), but it also established the mission statement that many of the great superhero movies made in the years since then have followed:

Be truthful, honor the source material, believe in it, take it seriously.

This is the type of mindset that should be adopted by anyone who adapts any kind of preexisting work, especially when it comes to something like Kingdom Hearts. If you want a good example of how to write Sora in a way that showcases how great he is while also being faithful to who he is, there's another fan fiction story titled Starbound, created by my friend @skygent. An anthology with an overarching narrative mixed in, it uses the setup of Sora's disappearance at the end of Kingdom Hearts 3 as a way to examine the impact that he's had on all of his friends and allies. In a deeper, meta sense, it offers an analysis of the connection that fans of the franchise itself have formed with him.

The stuff that has been written so far for this fic is absolutely amazing. In fact, it's what led to my renewed interest in Kingdom Hearts in the first place. It has pretty much what you would want in a story like this one. Balancing a sense of scale, mystery, and adventure, but also quiet reflection. Offering some fun little twists, but still retaining the core essence of what the source material is all about. Through this story, we see various characters (including some not featured in the games) learning of and reacting to Sora's disappearance, remembering their encounters with him in the past. Some of them are even inspired to try and figure out where he is, willing to doing whatever it takes to help find him and bring him back home. Here, they demonstrate just how much he means to them, just as they all do to him.

To be clear, I'm not saying that Sora should stay exactly the same. In a series like Kingdom Hearts, we want to see those characters grow and evolve. With the things that Sora has experienced throughout the series, and with where we will find him at in Kingdom Hearts 4, it'll be interesting to see where he goes next. At the same time though, we also should remind ourselves that people love this character for a reason. As this young hero embarks on his newest adventure, he shouldn't lose what makes him who he is as a person. Instead of pulling him apart, I think Sora is someone who deserves to be celebrated. To be treated with dignity and respect, just as Donner did for the last son of Krypton. In the same way we've celebrated Superman over the years for what he stands for and represents, Sora should also be recognized in an equally similar way. Their respective core values and good morals, all the stuff that makes them heroes. It's these things that turned them into pop culture icons who remain with us to this day. It's why they will continue to be icons in the foreseeable future.

Two beacons, shining bright in the darkness. Never forget that.

[kukurykunapatyku]

Vinsmoke spooky combo day 1: zombie/hater

I should thank you @pharaohzeth, this prompt gave me motivation to finally work something for my kingdom hearts x one piece au <3 i mean, in the games Nobodies are kinda described as dead so i think it's close enough to count...

By rules of the games Nobodies should look like normal humans but I like when people make them look like corpses or give them some inhuman traits, so that's what we're going to do here folks

[I.D.: Two-panel drawing of Niji and Sanji from One Piece in my kingdom hearts au. Niji is on the upper panel. His skin is greyish and there are places where it came off, showing muscle and bones. His eyes are almost entirly black, his hair blue with yellow undertones. He's wearing the black zipped coat like the one used by antagonists in Kingdom Hearts games. He's smirking, head tilted to the right, holding his goggles in the left hand. Next to him is his yonger version in similar pose. The kid's eyes are covered by black smear. His hair is yellow with blue undertones. Second panel shows Sanji's shocked face. Panels are separated by words "Oh, come on... Don't you recognize me?" said by Niji. /End I.D.]

Eyes trailing over the places where rotting skin revealed the muscle and bone underneath, Sanji wished he didn't. Wished there was no familiarity in the way the creature tilted its head, that the mocking smirk didn't bring back memories he buried a long time ago.

He remembered how those monsters grabbed Niji, the way life had left his eyes, the way Sanji would have shared his fate if Reiju didn't push him through the window, into the sea. The way she didn't have time to jump after him.

It couldn't be him. Sanji refused it.

More about the au under the cut

So, quick KH lore for those unfamiliar: The universe is made from different worlds and it's difficult to move between them but not impossible. Also, it's possible to separate person's heart and body. When it happens, the heart turns into Heartless - monster of darkness that is drawn towards hearts and attacks people to get them, creating even more Heartless in the process. Meanwhile, the body turns into a Nobody - barely humanoid husk of a person. In some circumstances, Nobodies can retain their memories and looks, but without the heart they still lack emotions (at least at first). One of the main antagonists in the game is organization 13, made of Nobodies whose goal is to recover their hearts. Their motivations range from "I'm so desperate to get the heart I'll do literally anything" to "I don't really care but since I'm not human anymore I don't belong anywhere else". Those are the people I'm basing Vinsmokes role on.

[I.D.: Close-ups of adult and kid Niji's faces. /End I.D.]

Now to the au.

Judge was researching the power of hearts and darkness by conducting experiments on captured Heartless.

One day something goes wrong and the Heartless escape, stealing the hearts of everyone in the castle. Except for Sanji, who falls into the ocean and is carried away by the weaves, washing up on the beach in adjacent realm and meeting Zeff.

Later Sanji joins the Strawhat Pirates, the crew wandering between the realms in search of the legendary treasure - Kingdom Hearts.

Sanji enjoyes the adventures and nowdays barely thinks about what happened to his siblings (and his sperm donor too I guess). At least until something looking a lot like Niji runs into him on the recon mission...

Probably because of the experiments Judge was doing on them ever before the Heartless attack, Ichiji, Niji, Yonji and Reiju kept their memories and looks. They assumed Sanji was just too weak-willed and turned into the mindless Nobody after loosing his heart. Judge continues his experiments, now with a side of figuring out what powers lacking a heart will give you. Which includes sending Heartless into other worlds and observing the carnage...

Reiju didn't tell anyone she managed to get Sanji out of the castle, partly because she's not sure he didn't just drown and partly because she doesn't know what Judge would do if he discovered Sanji's still alive. Her worries are validated when Niji comes back with the news and Judge orders them to bring Sanji back to the 'family'.

Because she was older when she lost her heart, Reiju is better at pretending to be human than her brothers. She remembers having emotions and usually gives more appropiate responses. Ichiji, Niji and Yonji kind of suck in that regard since they barely remember what the appropiate response even is. At first Niji didn't even realize Sanji was scared of him when they met again.

[paradoxdesign]

"The red stone ritual"

The heartless voice behind her spoke in a tongue she didn't understand and gave her a hard push in the back that nearly made her stumble and fall.

Holding her balance with her hands bound behind her back wasn't easy but she managed to stay upright. Also, she now understood that he was urging her to walk on in his language...

It was unusually cold this morning. It was autumn, she could tell from the colour of the leaves, and it would be her last. It would have taken maybe one or two seasons for her to become a woman, but she won't be around that long, she thought while regret and fear filled her. No rites for her, no fest with good food and singing, no braided hair. 

For many years she lived with her tribe high in the hills until those men came and invaded their dwelling, slaughtering everyone but her, her sister and two other young girls. After the attack they took them to a large gathering of their own people, a seven days walk from her home. 

The girl wasn't pretty like the other ones. She didn't realize that, with that, her destiny was set.

Along the way it became clear that the men showed a bigger interest in the other girls than in her. At first she found that to be okay but when they arrived at the camp she was locked in with two other girls, who were already there and both of them also not as pretty. It made her worry. The other, pretty, girls were all taken to the tents of the men who took them. Her sister too.

After a few days with almost no food or water but some scraps, one of the girls in her cage was roughly taken by two grim looking men, her hands tied behind her back and a rope around her neck with which they forced her to follow. 

Later that day she could hear the  sound of drums in the distance with a gradual growing excitement in their rhythms.

The girl didn't come back that evening.

This morning it was her turn. After a short walk through the woods they came to a large clearing in which a circle of large stones rose from the wet grass.  Several men and women were gathered there already. Dressed up as grotesque forest animals. One wore the antlers of a big deer on his head, another wore the skin and the head of a bear. Others had skins and feathers of various animals  bound to their bodies. Their faces were painted black with red streaks. Animal bones were worn on strings and necklaces and all bore a weapon of some sort.

One of the stones, laying flat in the middle of the circle, was also red. But a different kind of red than the paint she saw on their faces. She knew this colour from the stone in her village where they slaughtered cattle like goats and deer. The dark red color of dried blood. In awe she stopped, the strength left her legs and she had to make an effort to keep standing. With fear in her eyes she turned to the man guiding her, only to be shoved forward again.

She started to cry in despair. 'Please, please, I can work for you!' She pleaded to indifferent ears. The man showed no understanding of her words, showed no emotion, nor mercy.

Suddenly those drums started sounding again, slowly at first, just like the day before when she has heard them when the first girl was taken away. Some of the beastlike figures started dancing around the stone circle, slowly by the rhythm of the drums, their eyes void of humanity, like in a trance. The bones hanging from their costumes clattering in unison with the rhythm of the drums.

With another push the man directed her towards the large stone in the middle of the circle and forced her to lay on it, on her back. Her hands were cut free with a stone knife only to be tied again. This time to the stone. The same thing happened to her legs.

The stretching of her limbs caused her to cry out.

The man with the antlers stood next to the stone to her left and started speaking in that horrible unintelligible language. His hands raised to the sky, his eyes closed.

The sky, to which, as a small girl she looked so often to look for clouds that looked like an animal, or a flower. Some even looked like humans. That sky, now white, grey and empty, as if it looked the other way to just not see what tragedy was unfolding beneath it.

The drums started to speed up, and she could hear the cries from the dancers as they started to speed up their dance.

Ecstatically.

Then, all of a sudden the drums stopped......

[corishadowfang]

It's appreciate a dragon day, apparently, and I don't have time to do art or fics because. Time. And Energy. But for the past week or so I've had my Kingdom Hearts dragons AU on the mind...which wasn't supposed to be an AU AU, but just kind of a way to draw the characters since I'm not good at drawing people. But because I have no self-control, there's worldbuilding suddenly, and I really want to ramble about it, haha.

I really need to stress that this was originally just me thinking, "Hey, if I'm drawing them as dragons, wouldn't Scala have to look different, too? Since dragons would probably need different things than humans." And then it just. Spiraled.

I didn't know what to do with the Keyblades initially? I, uh. Wasn't sure if I wanted to go the "wielding Keyblades in the mouth," haha. Which kind of spiraled into, "What if the dragon thing just...replaces the Keyblades? Like, people become dragons, basically."

So the idea is kind of like...magic is still A Thing. Everyone can use it, with the right training, but the more you use magic, the more it changes you. (Yes, I've used this idea before, but shhh.) It very gradually changes your appearance, abilities, etc. Your magic gets stronger, but you become less and less human. Eventually, according to most people, you basically lose yourself to it and become a monster, so it's something of a controversial subject.

(The "become a monster" thing is only partially true. You can become a Heartless, but there are a lot of people who just become normal dragons, too. Unfortunately everyone just groups the two together.)

Anyone who used magic kind of like...filled a very weird niche in society where they weren't exactly accepted, but their abilities were still useful, so they were kind of both shunned and respected equally.

The Master of Masters and the Foretellers are the ones who really changed this; MoM went hardcore on the narrative that the "normal" transformation wasn't really monstrous at all, and painted the Foretellers very much as mythological heroes who could fight the actual monsters much more effectively than any normal person. Magic and dragons still made a lot of people wary, but it was tempered a bit, especially with kids.

SPEAKING OF--that's why a lot of kids ended up in Daybreak Town. Less pre-existing ideas on magic and dragons, so it's easier for them to see this as a good thing.

(And then MoM goes and ruins it with the whole "war" thing.)

Once you turn into a dragon, you can take human form again for short periods of time, but it's often uncomfortable, so Daybreak Town and Scala are both designed more with dragons in mind.

Daybreak Town was an abandoned human town that MoM and the Foretellers just repurposed, so while there are still buildings, they had to be modified a lot. The Clock Tower is an abandoned castle, haha.

Scala is basically a mountain range on the edge of the ocean! Or mountains on islands...? Uh. Something like that, haha. Lots of bare white rock and caves and stuff. I think the main island's a little more open, just because like...I like the idea of them wanting more "light" as a sort of symbolism thing.

Dragons are the only ones that can fly to other worlds without assistance! Their magic kind of protects them, basically, but they do actually have to fly. Lots of young dragons like to bring back trinkets from different worlds (which is generally how their hoards are formed, haha).

Uh, I only have loose ideas of how some characters would've actually gotten into this. Ven I think was basically born with an excessive amount of magic that he couldn't really control, so he turned really, really young, and there wasn't much he could do about it. Brain thought that the fear about magic was stupid and actively fostered his out of spite. Ephemer was super curious about the idea, and ended up digging deeper into things. Skuld and Lauriam I'm less certain on. (I could see Lauriam doing it as a way to help protect Strelitzia--maybe she was like Ven, and turned accidentally? And Skuld--honestly just could've done it because she was swept up in what MoM/the Foretellers said, haha.)

Aaaaand I'm looking at how much I've rambled and will spare your dashes, but uh. Yeah. Dragons!

[devised-agony]

The Broken People

general tws: nsfwhump, non/dubcon, restraints/bondage, gags, violence, torture

And So It Began

There are a lot of different types of evil. One people scoff at, inconveniences to be dealt with. The evil of indifference and inaction, the refusal to help in a time of need, to let others suffer and fend for themselves. The evil that makes you sick when you see it, the one that makes you question your faith in humanity, question how a person can be this kind of maligned and heartless. 

But there also are things so evil, so malicious and cruel, that you can’t wrap your mind around it, worse than your imagination can come up with. Things this evil kill your spirit, break your view of the world and leave you permanently changed. 

This kind of evil entered Elaina’s world not long ago, in the form of her estranged father, Radko. Or more accurately, she entered his world. 

Her father stood behind her, pride on his face, waiting for her reaction. How she managed to keep a neutral expression on her face was a mystery, even to herself, not vomiting was an accomplishment in itself. Her long forgotten acting dreams proved themselves useful once again. She forced her frozen body to move. At a steady pace she circled around her father's present, a hint of curiosity expertly drawn across her face. She could feel the eyes of Radko, Judas and Cain following her every move. 

“What do you think, Brangioji? Do you like him?” 

Elaina crouched down next to the shaking figure on the ground to look like she was examining him. Impossibly wide eyes stared at her. The man lay on the ground where he had been kicked to by Cain, right after Elaina and Radko had entered the room. His hands were shackled to the floor and a gag shoved between his teeth. This ‘gift’ as Radko had called him, looked at her through strands of blonde hair that ended right under his chin. He looked like he was tall, strong, with a healthy tan. He looked like he shouldn’t be here. And he shouldn’t. 

“Eva, what do you think?” 

She looked up to her father, hiding her disgust. 

“Looks strong. Healthy. He’ll last for a while, I think,” 

Radko burst into laughter. The other two men joined in. Cain and Judas only stopped when her father started speaking again. 

“How long he lasts is entirely up to you, my little angel. He’s yours. The start to your very own division,” 

The hairs on her arms stood up pin straight. Elaina stood up and turned to face Radko completely. 

“My division?” 

“Yes, of course. As my daughter you were born with that privilege and I expect you to one day take over the family business, Eva. It is time for you to start working and learning. You’ve watched Judas and Cain for a while, now you get to put what you learned into practice,” 

Elaina wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a joke. She knew she was lucky. Their relationship protected her from his twisted side, he even seemed quite fond of her, doting on her whenever he could, in his own ways, but to expect this of her? She was at a loss for words. Oh god, how could she possibly do this. Her stomach churned and it took all her willpower to keep her breakfast from coming up. It was hard enough to watch the others torture their prisoners. Or rather slaves. That’s what they were. Bodys and souls crushed up to generate revenue from the most twisted people of humanity. Suffering treated as entertainment; cruelty performed in front of a camera. Elaina wanted to go home. But it was too late for that the moment Radko had introduced her to his “business”. There was no going back. She knew too much, the moment she stepped foot into the facility. His “gift” solidified this fact and buried the last bit of her hope. 

Her shock must’ve been written across her face. 

“Do you not like him, Brangioji? I can get you another one,” 

“I’ll take him, if you don’t want him,” Cain said, with his usually slimy smile, while stepping over to him and grabbing a handful of the poor man's hair.  

If he wasn’t in a panic before, now he was, yanking at the metal shackles, trying to relieve the pressure on his scalp. Whines escaped from behind the gag as he hyperventilated and thrashed against this predator of a man. But there was no escape from Cain. Once he had you in his grip it was too late. With his other hand, Cain grabbed the other man by the throat, then he leaned in and licked straight across his face. 

“No, no, I like him,” Elaina hurried to say. “I was just surprised,” 

Cain dropped him again, face turned sour. He was hungry for fresh meat in his division. A fast turnover, that’s what Radko had called it. Nobody lasted long with him. Once the people's spirits were broken, they were too boring for him. He wanted resistance and a fight. He wanted crying, begging and cursing. He wanted to break his toys.  

In stature, Cain reminded Elaina of a bulldog. Broad-shouldered, strong, but stout, a shaved head and with an inclination to violence. Even now, after quite some time spent with him, she still struggled to meet his eyes. No, she didn’t want the terrified man on the floor to be at his mercy. She knew for a fact Cain didn’t have a lot of that to give. 

Judas stepped beside her and lay a hand on her shoulder. He wasn’t quite as unsettling as Cain. Neatly groomed hair, a tall stature and those cold steel blue eyes. He reminded Elaina of a soldier. Not a nice man by any means, but more approachable than Cain, any day of the week. He didn’t take pleasure in the pain of others, not the way that Cain did. As long as you didn’t cross him, he was manageable. Efficient and cold, but not needlessly cruel. He had a job to do and he excelled. With him, Elaina knew what to expect. He was predictable, not like Cain 

“Want some help getting him to the quarters, little one?” 

Little one. Elaina still didn’t know how to feel about the fact, that apparently, he’d decided to take her under his wing and to mentor her in her father's business, whenever Radko was too busy to do it himself. She looked up at him, but got distracted by the object dangling from his hand. 

“Is that..” 

“Shock collar, Eva. Works wonders when they haven’t learned their place yet,” 

In thought, Elaina took it into her hands and thumbed over the two small metal prongs. Her eyes wandered to the man on the floor. He’d calmed a little after Cain had stepped away and appeared to try to make himself as small as possible. She could see the bruises peeking out from under his shirt and on his arms, purple and blue on his light skin, the tear tracks that painted his face. He seemed frozen in place, not a sound coming from him, except for the occasional wheezing breath, in the hopes that the four other people in the room would just forget that he’s there as well. Even though he was silenced by the gag, what he wanted to say was evident on his face. Watery blue eyes pleaded with her. 

No. Please, no. 

With effort she managed to break the eye contact with him, and returned her attention to Judas. It occurred to her, that she still hadn’t answered him. 

“I’d like to try on my own. Get some practice in,” 

She gave Judas a crooked smile. He looked at her with approval. 

“Good on you, kid. You’ll be fine anyway, guards everywhere, but if you need any help, you can always come to me,” 

With that he ruffled her hair, before grabbing Cain by the arm. Together they left the room. Radko took Judas’ place by her side instead. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a kiss on the head. The heavy scent of rose and citrus from his aftershave hit Elaina’s nose. 

“Now, Brangioji, you take some time to figure out with him what you want to do with your future division, yeah? Fuck him, dress him up, break him; whatever you want. Try out some things, experiment, figure out how you want to approach this. You know, next month's auction is not that far. You can try your luck there as well.” 

“Yes, father,” Elaina was still staring at the man on the floor. 

“Puiku, my angel,” 

Radko pressed another kiss on her hair, before he turned to leave like Judas and Cain. Elaina watched the door click shut before she turned her attention back to the miserable, trembling pile of person in front of her. As she stepped closer, he flinched back, as far as the chains allowed him to. He tried to keep distance between them, but thanks to his shackles, with little success. 

Elaina hated the effect she had on him. She hated this power she had, hated how it made her feel lightheaded, how her fingers tingled with adrenaline. The man started yanking at his shackles again, desperately trying to get as far away from her as possible. Elaina wanted nothing more than to assure him, that she wouldn’t hurt him, to promise him that everything would be okay, that she would get him out. But she knew where the cameras were that watched them. And she knew she couldn’t promise that. 

Elaina crouched in front of him. Maybe that way she would be less threatening, not that she was of particularly imposing stature. The shock collar was still in her hand, with the remote in her pocket. And then she waited. 

She waited until he was relatively calm again, until his thrashing stopped, when he was too exhausted to keep going. Until he just stared at her again. Slowly, as if to not startle him, Elaina pulled out the little remote. It was on its lowest setting and she didn’t plan on needing it at all, in fact, she hoped its use would be limited to intimidation. 

“You see these prongs?” 

Her voice was steady and calm as she ran her thumb over the two metal bits again to hide their shaking. 

“They’re connected to my remote. If I press this button here...” She pressed it. A tiny little spark jumped between them. “...you get shocked,” 

The man jumped a little at the sound it made. His breathing picked up again. It was a wonder that he hadn’t passed out yet, she thought. Elaina took long, even breaths to keep her voice consistent and her expression neutral as she continued. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen: I’m going to put this on you and then I’m going to bring you to your room. I won’t shock you unless you give me reason to. Once we’re there, I’m going to answer your questions and explain everything. Do you understand?” 

Frantically he shook his head, some muffled sounds of protest made their way out behind the gag and he scooted back another inch. Elaina sighed. 

“You don’t get to choose whether this will happen or not, you just get to decide whether it happens with or without you getting hurt. And I’d much prefer, if I didn’t need to hurt you. I will put this on now. Don’t fight me,” 

As soon as the words left her mouth, she just wanted to smash her head against the concrete floor. But she couldn’t, she needed to play her role well to survive, so she just bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood.  

She didn’t move suddenly, still her first attempt at reaching the man's neck was met with panic, thrashing and frantic shaking of his head. He pulled back further than she’d previously thought possible. She let her hands drop again. The pull of exhaustion was strong though, his bursts of fight got shorter and shorter with each one. Soon he was still again if one didn’t count the uncontrolled shaking as movement. His breath was getting raspy. 

“I’m going to try this the nice way one more time,” she began, a slight sharpness in her voice as warning. “and if it doesn’t go the way I want it to, you will be in for a bad time. Got it?” 

The man in front of her shook his head again, but it was a much smaller movement this time. He seemed defeated. Elaina chose to take that as a good sign. Like for her first attempt she reached out rather slowly. His eyes followed her hands and he leaned away as far as he could, with a craned neck. Then her hands made contact with his skin. To her cold hands, his skin felt almost feverishly hot. A jolt ran through his entire body as she touched the soft skin of his neck. She could feel the blood rushing underneath, the rabbit-like pulse. His eyes were screwed shut; hands cramped into fists, bracing for impact. 

Elaina slipped the collar around his neck as fast and gentle as she could. She didn't bother to put on the safety lock. The chances of him trying to take it off, and also being fast enough to not be shocked were low and even if he did, he wouldn’t get very far. 

“Good,” 

Elaina withdrew herself a foot as a reward, to give him a bit more space to adjust to this new sensation. She hoped she hadn’t fastened it too tightly. It was loose enough for two fingers to be slipped under. Hopefully that was okay. 

The man's breath picked up again. Metal rattled as he tried to lift his hands to the collar, but the chain was too short for him to reach it in his kneeling position. Of course this caused him to panic more. Maybe Elaina should give him one of the shots they sometimes used for the ones that tended to pass out, out of panic. No, what was she thinking? It was a bad idea to try and stick him with a needle alone, when he was in this state. So Elaina just waited for him to tire. 

It didn’t take long. She guessed that he hadn’t slept much in the last 48 hours. After his breathing stabilised again, Elaina crouched down again the way she was before. He watched her every move. 

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Of course it was bad, what was she talking about?! 

“I’m going to detach your restrains from the floor next. Don’t try anything. There’re cameras everywhere, and armed guards that will make you wish for death if something happens to me. So, save us both the trouble and do as I say,” 

The lock opened with a click and as soon as he got this freedom back, the man scrambled to the farthest corner of the room, hands protectively lifted to shield his head and torso. Elaina should’ve expected this. She stood up, but stayed on her spot. Maybe that way he would get a sense of security. At least he didn’t try to rip off collar or gag. She gave him a minute to calm a bit. Soon his attention returned from pure self-defence back to her. Distrustful eyes found hers. 

“I’ll stay right over here as long as you do as I say. Stand up,” 

He just continued staring. Elaina waited a few moments. He didn’t move. Was she actually going to have to use the shock function? She thumbed over the button on the small remote, but didn’t press it yet. 

“I said stand up. I will not repeat myself again,” 

The man used the wall to help pull himself to his feet, his shoulders were rolled forward. Hunched over he was only a bit taller than Elaina. His shoulders seemed broad, with some good muscle on them, but he didn’t look like someone that trained a lot. Probably muscle from work. Thick thighs, a large chest and big hands. He’d probably be able to snap Elaina in half if he wanted to, but right now he was more than terrified of her. She could feel her heart beat in her throat. Why would her father pick someone so... intimidating for her? In general, he was her type, Radko seemed to have done some research on her, but fuck! He did throw her in the deep end. The man was beautiful though, with his thick hair. She wondered what it would feel like to run her hand through it. She stopped her eyes from wandering further, snapping out of her daydreaming, she awkwardly cleared her throat. 

“Right. Well. Let’s get going then. Are you going to follow me without issues, or do I have to leash you?” 

The man huffed humourlessly. 

“Fuck it. You either follow me, or you don’t, but Cain, the unsavoury guy you met earlier, has this room reserved for later. I believe I’m easier to get along with,” 

Elaina could see him swallow. Then he took a wobbly step in her direction. A crooked smile painted her face. 

“We’re gonna get along famously, I can already tell,” 

Then she turned around, to the door leading to the hallway. The sound of uneasy footsteps told her he was following. 

The hallway was a long wide tube of narrow concrete, painted in white and with fluorescent lights. Regular distances apart were white metal doors on each side. Elaina’s skin prickled. No matter how many times she walked these halls, they continued to feel uncanny. It didn’t help, that she knew they were watched by multiple different cameras. Every now and again the hallway encountered a cross of another. The facility was a perfect grid, guards stationed at each intersection, faceless and nameless, at least to her. The two of them left the filming section and took a turn to the holding section. The concrete turned progressively greyer the further they walked, until they reached her future divisions tract. Doors lined the hallway, three on each side and two at the end. 

Elaina fiddled with her key card, opening the first door on the right. The light flickered on. This one was less harsh than the bright one in the hallway, more yellowy, but in no way comforting. The small room behind the door was about forty square feet, a single bed in the back right corner, a toilet in the back left one and a chair at one wall seeming rather random. A wooden chest intended for the little clothing the people here got stood at the foot of the bed. 

She pushed the door open completely and held it for the man as he hobbled behind her. He hesitated, with his arms protectively wrapped around himself as far as the chains would allow. But in the end, he didn’t really have a choice anyway, so he entered. Elaina noticed his limp. His left ankle apparently hurt; he would have to visit the medical bay for a checkup. She gestured for him to sit down on the bed. It was a metal frame, with a thin mattress, a thin pillow, a thin blanket. Everything was flimsy and cheap. At least the heating made it somewhat comfortable. Elaina dragged the chair in front of where he sat and undid his gag, before she sat down. 

And so it began. 

[creationofacentury]

(For anyone who's interested in interaction between X and Grumbot: Hello! This is a short fanfic about them.)

------

Grumbot has been working in the grocery store for a long time. He has seen a lot of strange people. People with gills, people with eye patches, people with wings, people with watermelon hats, people that looks like creeper...but the strangest person among them is the owner of the store.

X, is what the they asked Grumbot to call them. X wears their helmet all the time, Grumbot has never seen their face. (Grumbot assumes they have a face. Most people have it.) X never eats, which is very different from most people that Grumbot knows. X also talks in a really unique voice, it sounds like the asphalt surface when Grumbot drags his feet across the floor (X doesn't like it when he does that), and Grumbot likes how X's voice sounds similar to his own. Some times, though, X stares at him with an expression that Grumbot doesn't understand, but despite the strangeness, Grumbot likes X. X takes good care of him, and X is red- Grumbot loves red.

He tells X that.

Beneath the visor and armor, X stiffens. They slowly turn to look at Grumbot and frown.

"Yeah?" X sounds extra cheery today. Normally they just make noises at Grumbot that he has yet to understand and walk away. "Why is that?"

Do frowns go with cheery? Grumbot needs to update his database. "It makes me think of...bed, I guess. It makes me feel warm."

"..." The frown disappears, and now Grumbot can't read X's expression at all. It's all blank. "Your bed only has two colors, and it's yellow and black."

"Bee's color,"

"Yeah."

"I like bees,"

"I know."

"But I still don't know why I like red..." Grumbot sighs- a movement he learns from X, "...Oh, I know! Maybe it's because you are red, X!"

X visibly shakes.

Grumbot tilts his head in confusion.

"...Yeah?" X asks weakly after a few seconds.

"Yeah!"

"...That's great." They smile, and it looks wobbly. "Kid, isn't it almost your bed time?"

Grumbot checks the clock on the wall to be sure. "It's only seven, X, are you alright? You are acting unusual today!"

"I'm fine, don't worry about me." X turns around to fiddle with the counter. "How about we close for the day early, and I'll let you count the diamonds?"

"CAN I?!"

"Yes, but! Just for today."

"Yay! You are the best, X!"

X turns away. "What are you waiting for? Go lock the door."

As Grumbot runs to lock the door, he hears X mumbles. It isn't unusual, X does that a lot, and it's always something about sooma and void, but Grumbot has never figured out what a sooma is. He has a feeling that X doesn't know he can hear them all.

This time though, there's a new word:

"Call me heartless one more time...who's the heartless ones? The simulation is over, it's been years- aren't they your children? I swear to Notch, Grian..."

Grian?

Grumbot collapses to the ground.

System rebooting...

Memory access blocked...

Overwrite?

Access denied...

System rebooting...

"...umbot? Grumbot! Wake up! Kid, come on, come on, come on-!"

"...X?"

"KID, YOU SCARED ME HALF TO DEATH!"

Grumbot realizes they are on the ground. X is cradling him like a human baby, and Grumbot kind of like it.

"X? What happened?"

X has their right hand on Grumbot's forehead, "You are shaking,"

Grumbot wants to say X's voice is shaking too, but he decides not to. He is shaking after all, and he doesn't know why.

"Why?"

"I don't know, you just collapsed- and-"

"Sorry, X..."

"DON'T." X yells and then immediately regrets it, "Sorry, I...don't be sorry for things you can't control, don't ever apologize for that, okay?"

Grumbot nods.

"I need verbal response, kid."

"...yes, X."

And X wraps their arms around Grumbot. Grumbot has seen customers do that. Once, a man with a watermelon hat came in with a yellow shirt child, and when the child cry, the man did this. X told him it was a hug, and finally Grumbot gets one as well.

X's soft, Grumbot decides. He can feel it through the armor. Maybe X have a face underneath the helmet after all, since faces are soft, too.

After three minutes, Grumbot thinks he still needs to ask, "...Can I still count the diamonds?"

X chuckles. It sounds choked, maybe X needs to drink water. Grumbot knows X has a pair of cups and a box of tea, but he has never seen X use them before. They just sit on the shelf in the back of the store, strangely not collecting dust at all.

"You don't sound great, X, are you sure you are okay?"

X stays silent.

It takes them a while to reply, "...Give me a night. I will be okay tomorrow, alright?"

"Okay."

"You can count the diamond on your own right? Don't fall asleep with them in your bed, I will know if you do."

"Okay, okay! I won't! Get better soon!"

With a final pat on the head, X walks him to his room and hands him the diamonds. Grumbot counts the diamond one by one, and he recounts just so he doesn't mess up. When he falls asleep, he dreams of a person in red and a person in black, smiling towards him. They seem nice. All in all, it's a good day. (And if he gets up before X, he can get away with sleeping with diamonds in his bed, then the day would be even better.)

[animeyanderelover]

Request: Can I ask for an s/o who is the Fairy Queen and is dating Melodias during the holy war?

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, violence, manipulation, death

Fairy Queen s/o

🐲Meliodas used to be heartless, slaughtered anyone who was in his way. He's the leader of the Ten Commandments and the son of the Demon King. During the Holy War he fights for his race against the Stigma, the alliance between the clans of the goddesses, the giants, the fairies and at one point even the humans. With his darling being the Fairy Queen, her reputation is known to Meliodas and the clan in general. Rumored to be the strongest leader the fairies had in a long time with perfect control over Chastiefol and it's ten different forms. Your strength is fearsome and even if you're normally a kind person you will murder everyone who dares to hurt your forest and your people. You're a dangerous opponent and for that an opponent the Demon King wants to get rid off as quickly as possible. At one point in time, Meliodas truly wouldn't have cared at all for this. This is not any time though, this is different.

🐲 Why, you may ask? Because Meliodas and the Fairy Queen have started something which is truly forbidden between their races, especially during the Great War. Both of them have fallen in love with each other and have a secret relationship with each other. It's something Meliodas would have never seen coming and ironically enough the first time you two met, you had started fighting against each other. You had proven to be nimble and formidable though which was the reason the fight back then had ended in a draw and both of you acknowledging each other's strength. He could have cheated when you had told him that you wouldn't fight him anymore since both of you had been at the limit of your energy back then, told him you had siblings who were waiting for you to wait to come home and that you wouldn't waste your life in a meaningless fight like this one. He could have still killed you when you turned your back provocatively at him but he didn't. He didn't because he had found himself impressed with you back then.

🐲 This memory has served as the base of your relationship since you had realized with the fact that he hadn't attacked you back then that Meliodas, despite being the eldest son of the Demon King, still had his honor. Something which you learned to respect about him. You two didn't fight to the death anymore when you met and instead you often started discussions where you often had told him that you didn't want any of your people to be slaughtered and killed in a fight that was only because the Demon King and the Supreme Deity had such an intense rivalry going on. That you regretted not declining just because you had felt a slight pressure and had held such bad prejudices against the demons too. Clearly not all demons were as bad as commonly believed, you viewed him as living proof. A statement that flattered the demon more than he had expected. It was that day that he started seeing you as someone truly unique and special.

🐲 He starts enjoying the time he spends with you, his mind is often repeating the memories of you he has made and he finds himself getting lost in the thoughts about you. He sneaks out and gets dangerously close to your territory despite knowing that he's technically the enemy and would instantly be attacked. Meliodas believes that you wouldn't attack him though and he's glad to know that he's right when you notice him before anyone else and hurry to him. You drag him somewhere where you're sure no one will discover him with you together anytime soon and ask him in a slightly hissing tone what in the world he is doing here. He should know what would happen if he were to be seen. Meliodas on the other hand is stupidly honest and tells you that he wanted to see you because he missed you. This answer renders you speechless for a few moments before you get flustered by his sincere words.

🐲 You two settle on seeing each other behind each other's back. He's very eager but you hesitate since you know that you two are still enemies. When Meliodas just tells you cheerfully he'll still come to see you, you see yourself cornered to agree to his idea of seeing each other every once in a while secretly. Just because today no one noticed him, there's no guarantee that he'll always have this much luck. You neither wish your fairies to get harmed nor do you really want him to get hurt or kill anyone. He has a stupidly happy grin on his face when you give in to him. Both of you are careful because both of you know what is at risk here but with time you start feeling that Meliodas has stopped caring about himself. He only wants you to not be harmed in any way.

🐲 He's at one point very much aware about his own obsession but he doesn't really mind it. Meliodas just wants to be with his darling and is morally not righteous enough to care about whether he is obsessed with you or not. He's very possessive and expresses that often with an increased amount of touches he bestows upon you. He's still somewhat careful since he knows that you as the Fairy Queen are very strong and perceptive on top of that. So he hides his obsession behind his unsuspecting smile and tries to tone his feelings down enough for you to barely notice. Behind the scenes he grows significantly more violent though. Every time he hears a demon mentioning that they want to kill you, it's their head that's instead flying. He truly looks like the merciless leader he's known for in such moments with his darkened and empty eyes. If someone dares to do as much as harm a perfect strand of hair on your head, Meliodas will see it through to give them something even worse than death.

🐲 The demon turns more manipulative when he realizes to his utter thrill that you've gained feelings for him too. You may try to conceal your affection for him as much as you can but Meliodas is of very sharp mind himself. He's so obsessively observing you that it's no wonder that he notices even smaller things about your act. He's so happy though, his grin widens and his heartbeat is quickening. Meliodas attempts to use your feelings to convince you to be in a relationship with him. It's everything he wants as of now and he can't deny that he feels his heart getting tainted with darkness every time he imagines that someone else tries to woo you. You always reassure him that you have no one but that doesn't mean that it will never happen. Meliodas has a problem with the fact that he can't be with you all the time even though he knows that logically that would get the both of you in deep troubles.

🐲 You tell him that you aren't sure since being friends with him is already risky enough. You fear that your clan might get harmed too as a punishment if you two would ever be found out. You fear for Gloxinia and Gerheade, your younger siblings. Only for a short moment can you see a look of dark displeasure crossing Meliodas's face, a short feeling of unease coming over you before it's all gone behind his smile again. He insists that he understands. In reality, he's angry though. For him you have become everything. His one and only. He'd betray his own clan for you and he wants you to feel the same. Yet you have emotional ties with others, he isn't the only one you care about and whilst he logically knows that there shouldn't be anything wrong with it since you're the Queen of Fairies, it's hard to feel sympathy with all his egotistical possessive love.

🐲 Meliodas useses emotional manipulation against you though the next time you two meet to influence your decision to his advantage. He uses your feelings shamelessly against you but doesn't feel too guilty about it. He's too possessive to care about this, he just want you to be his already. In the end you finally agree, albeit hesitantly. His heart explodes with all of his overwhelming love and the first thing he does is giving you a deep kiss where he really pours all of his desire into. You're left out of air by the end of it whilst he gives you one of his signature grins, only that this one is sincere for once and not faked like he tends to do. He reassures you that nothing will happen to you and that he'll protect you. You two will manage somehow.

🐲 His longing to have you with him worsens and he gets more demanding with the time you two should spend together. It is difficult, he knows, but he just has to see you more often. Not being able to see you, smell you and feel you drives him nearly mad and it isn't unlikely for him to let his frustration through fighting and killing out. When he gets to see you, he's always touching you in some way as he smothers you in his affection. He just can't help himself now that he knows that you're his. You clearly express your fear about your clan being hurt and even if he gets annoyed if you talk about your clan when he just wants you two to enjoy each other's presence, he attempts to come over as understanding and promises you that he'll try to do something. He can at least try to keep the Ten Commandments away from your people since they're after him a few of the most powerful demons.

🐲 Meliodas can't keep this up any longer after a while though. He wants you always with him but can't because both of you fight on different sides. He has no problems to abandon his own clan even if he might feel slight pity for his younger brother Zeldris. It's just that he can't live without you but he is sure that he can without his clan. So he brings the idea of betraying the clan and running away together up at one point and is met with your horrified look. You could never betray your home, your people, your siblings like this. That's when it returns again, this sudden feeling of unease that you've felt before and when you look up, goosebumps start rising all over your skin. Because this time the clear look of dissatisfaction stays on your lover's face far longer. Why? Why are you hesitating so much? He would gladly leave everything behind to be with you because he loves you. Don't you love him too? Don't you feel the same way too?

🐲 You sense danger from him but force yourself to stay calm because you know that he loves you. He wouldn't hurt you. So you exlain to him that you love him but you also have a position as the Fairy Queen and care for your people and siblings because they've always supported you, beg him to understand you. His look is void of sympathy and understanding but Meliodas considers what would be the best scenario now. He could kidnap you but he knows that wouldn't be that easy, not to mention that he would have to harm you seriously to render you unable to defend yourself. He truly recoils at that thought. He also runs risks of scaring you right now so he decides to put up his facade to calm you down. He apologizes to you, tells you that all the fighting and the distance between you two has gotten to him. Obviously you can't run away, your people need you. You know that he isn't fine despite the act he's trying to put up but let it slide for now. Later that evening Meliodas is brooding on what to do now.

🐲 He wants you to always to be together, doesn't want any sort of distance between you two. You've rejected his idea of fleeing together, to his great disappointment and slight anger. Your position as a queen ties you down and otherwise Meliodas also knows that this situation would mean even greater danger if the Demon Clan and the Goddess Clan would come after you two and punish you two. He knows both of you are strong but he is still humble enough to be aware that even you two have limits. If you don't want to betray anyone, he could switch to your side. He has a lot of valuable information after all but is unsure how the Goddess Clan and especially the Supreme Deity would treat him. They might want to kill him or imprison him which would mean he wouldn't be able to be with you either. They might also punish you if the secret of you two dating would come out. It's probably the choice with less risk though but this is only based on his own judgement. Whatever guarantees him to be always with you is what Meliodas will choose in the end.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Whew! Voting done!

I ended up having breakfast (not just feeding the animals) I woke up early and realized if I was feeling that edgy being hungry wouldn't help. So I fixed myself an omelette*. I figured doing something “special” with several steps would help calm me down.

Why was I edgy? Because I’m me! LOL It wasn’t just worrying about results, it was worrying about the process of voting. I always worry about the rules, even things like where to park. But weirdly the big thing was where I had to vote. It was the auditorium of my old school, a place tangled up with a hell of a lot of anxiety.

As it turned out, it was the easiest voting ever. There wasn’t even a line, the only wait being for the workers to do their steps with the ID check and so forth.

Wanna know what was awkward? At the edge of the campaigning zone two candidates had set up shop, like they do. They were competing for school board***, and I had to walk right by the, with no one else coming along for a buffer.

This is of those local races where everyone knows everyone. With one they were like, “Oh, I remember your parents!”, the next was “Hello Stephanie!” (his relative helped care of my great grandma when I was little and he was a teen), and the candidate not there worked with Mom in the post office (as had his father) and is one of the about five Christmas cards I get. So while I had one I was voting for I absolutely didn’t want to snub any of them.

But I did fine. I’m good at being friendly with folks no matter no matter our differences, a skill perfected by a lifetime being a liberal in a rural, southern, microscopic town. I don’t think it is purely a pragmatic matter of survival, to keep hostility down. It’s also the recognition that people can be good and horrible at the same time, that they can be incredibly kind in the tiny scale of individual interactions yet utterly heartless when dealing on the grand scale of groups of people. I guess boils down to the fact people “see” those close to them but everyone else is just hypothetical.

Or maybe humanity is just a load of idiots deserving the benevolent pity and patience of a pet owner. “Aww, sweetie, the UPS driver isn’t gonna hurt you, but biting your own tail might.” The pooch isn’t gonna understand your words, but yelling will just make things worse. You have to accept changing them will take a lot of time, done with the combo of kindness and firmness.. Always be friendly and polite, but never, ever yield your own will. That’s my philosophy for human interactions! LOL

Sorry, sleep deprived. Makes me ramble incoherently!

Now to go off to the woods, as a treat to myself post voting. I am soooo going to try not to think about the election for a while. Fingers crossed I can avoid watching results roll in tonight. I don’t need more stress! LOL

**Two eggs, apple, mushroom, cheese, garam masala, turmeric, and salt on my homemade bread, whole wheat this time. I even used some butter, and I am having to ration it now.

[arayashikiii]

Grunge

I'm usually chill when I use English, but I kinda messed up this time… Sorry about that.

So, this post is basically a translation of the Korean post you can find in this link.

Initially, I was all calm and composed while translating, but in the end, I couldn't keep it together.

If Urasawa offed Grimmer in the story because their chemistry was just too good to handle? Maybe Urasawa didn't know what to do with them. Like, imagine if everything got resolved and Grimmer survived; they'd totally grab that beer they promised each other, right? And they'd probably realize how similar their pasts and issues are, becoming BFFs in no time with a "You too? Same here." kinda vibe.

So what would be next for them? Runge would ditch the BKA and tag along with Grimmer on his globetrotting adventures, right? Picture Grimmer, slinging a huge bag over his shoulder, turning to Runge (who's rocking some comfy casual wear instead of his usual suit) and asking, "You ready?"

This could've been the ultimate queer ending, so I can't help but suspect that Urasawa was like, "Nope, can't let that happen," and had Grimmer bite the dust. I've been ranting about this to my fellow Monster-loving friends since last year, and now that we're halfway through 2023, I'm still going strong, even translating this into English and posting it on Tumblr. It's just… my heart is so heavy…

I kinda feel like Urasawa is way too into preserving the hetero norm and the whole family thing, which rubs me the wrong way… Sure, it was nice to see Runge regain his humanity and reconnect with his daughter, but taking Grimmer away from him was just cruel. What's so wrong with Heinrich Runge starting fresh with another man? It's like Runge's boyfriend got stolen by the Creator himself… snatched away as soon as they met… How am I supposed to deal with that? I know, of course, that there's a reason why Grimmer was died, and I know that it's the same reason why Johan's real name wasn't revealed… But still, that's not enough…

My inner overinvested otaku is seriously losing its mind over this.

But seriously, if Grimmer had lived and been with Runge, he might've actually gotten his name back… I have no doubt Runge would've played a huge part in helping Grimmer find his true name…

And can I talk about how hilarious it is that Runge was one of the people begging Vardemann to prove Grimmer's innocence in Another Monster? It makes sense for Tenma and Suk, but Runge too? Is it funny or just… I dunno, when I read that part, I couldn't help but think that Runge had some low-key love for Grimmer and held out hope for him. Why else would he care so much about someone he only knew for a day or two?

As someone kinda similar to Runge (which sounds weird, I know), I'm pretty sure he fell hard for Grimmer at first sight. Runge might've seemed chill around Grimmer in Ruhenheim, but deep down, he was shook and amazed. Like, "There's actually someone like this out there?" But it wouldn't have been easy for Runge to acknowledge those feelings, and he might not even have realized it. So he played it cool and treated Grimmer like usual, all the while being super drawn to him. Basically, Runge fell head over heels for Grimmer right away and found a glimmer of hope. If I had to put that hope into words, it'd be: Maybe with this person, I could discover something totally different from everything I've experienced so far.

Yeah, that's the kind of faint yet powerful hope…

But the cold, uncaring Creator… that heartless Creator ripped Grimmer away from Runge…

아 영어...영어 어려워.........

[adeanthedraconequus]

The Secret Exchange Review

I just read one of the short anthology story of The Little Mermaid of “What if Eric met Ariel after she rescued him” which is a short Disney Twisted Tale Anthology short story I just finished reading.

Spoilers Ahead!

After Eric got shipwrecked from a wild hurricane storm Ariel saved him and brought him back to the beach but instead of Ariel just swimming off Ariel got to meet Eris face to face.

They got to talk to one another with Ariel saying she never talked to a human before and Eric feeling the same with never talking to a mermaid.

Eric shows Ariel the things from his surface world telling what they are called and what they do and even Ariel showing the things from her underwater world as they start to learn about one another’s worlds with Ariel knowing that humans aren’t as bad as her father King Triten sees them as being nothing but heartless harpooning killers and trashing the ocean with pollution although Ariel sees the good in humans after how Eric saw her as a mermaid.

Ariel tells Eric that her people are forbidden to take to the surface and especially talk to humans because of what her father King Triten thought of humans.

Eric heard his fellow sailors tell tales about the sea king that he had power to create wicked sea storms with his powerful Tritent now knowing through Ariel that her father the sea king was not like that and that Eric’s fellow sailors were telling tall sea tales about him while sailing the uncharted waters.

Ariel had to leave because it was getting late and her father would wonder where she went and had to go to a music rehearsal. One thing that humans and the merfolks had in common was their taste for music which Ariel once thought the musical instrument that Eric played was called a snarfblat was actually called a flute.

Eric wanted to see Ariel again curious to learn about her world the same way that she was about his world.

After waiting a long time for Ariel to see him again Eric was tricked into thinking that Ariel was in trouble and swam down in the ocean to find her only that he fell into the sea witch Ursula’s trap by her two eel henchmen.

Ariel found out what Ursula did to Eric setting a trap for him making him think she was in danger only to find that Ursula trapped Prince Eric in her giant pet clam.

With the umbrella that Prince Eric gave her she used it to free Prince Eric from suffocating inside Ursula’s pet giant clam then sent him back up to his boat.

In the end Ariel and Eric defeated the sea witch with also from help from the sea king. Ursula got eaten by her own pet giant clam and the merfolks that she imprisoned were now free with the sea witche’s power over them ended.

The sea king was intrigued in Prince Eric’s bravery to come to Ariel’s rescue as Ariel showed her father the different human stuff that helped her save Eric from the evil sea witch like the umbrella and the picnic basket and the fork which she once thought was a dinglehopper now knowing that it’s not used for fixing your hair but to eat food with.

The sea king was started to get fascinated in Eric’s world not being all as bad as he thought and he invited Prince Eric to have dinner with Ariel and him and the rest of the kingdom of Atlantica with Eric saying he can’t. King Triten used his magical tritent to turn Eric’s human legs into fins so he can join Ariel and her father to visit their kingdom of Atlantica so he can learn more about their underwater world while Ariel could also learn about Eric’s surface world on land.

Both Ariel and Eric swim off down to Atlantica together with them both yearning to know about each others world on land and in the ocean.

This was my interesting short review on one of the short anthology stories from The Disney Twisted Tales Anthology book I read right now. If you haven’t read the short stories from the Disney Twisted Tales I believe you should try finding the book for yourself and try giving it a good read, it’s real good believe me!

@drake-the-highlander @alexcanine @reformedladyfandom @jaysmily2919 @kingnice1219