#because I would like to retain the ability to breathe

[coderooster]

Putting it out there now that tomorrows ep isn’t allowed to be sad because I have been battling a blocked nose for the past six days and crying will reverse any progress I’ve made so yeah. For my physical well-being (as well as my emotional wellbeing) Bobby can’t die, Christopher can’t leave with his grandparents, hen and Karen can’t lose Mara, Eddie can’t be having a breakdown and any other curveballs are not allowed to be thrown.

[certifiablyinsanez]

I am haunted by the detailed, completed map of Hell that Edwin took notes on. You don’t understand, it makes me sick. It’s one thing to have a basic layout, a vague idea, or a rudimentary map but it was meticulously detailed. Down to doors and what they do and where they go. Down to secret spaces in the walls. He even knew what ringing an innocuous bell would do. It can only mean one thing. We don’t know when Edwin began trying to escape, but assuming he started from the get go, it means that he spent all his decades in Hell trying to find a way out. He never stopped running. And that is assuming he never stopped. From his second trip, we could see he resorted to his old ways and ran. But he was eventually caught, reduced to pieces. Even when Charles showed up, he didn’t seem very optimistic about their chances. He could feel every second of those 70 years. There were likely many times he fell to hopelessness, trembling in the corner watching himself be desecrated knowing it was going to happen again and again. How long? How many times did he try to be so, so quiet, hoping he would have a few moments before the next round? How many times did he muster the ability to run, just one more time? How long did it take him to run, discovering the ends of each ring? How many times did he sprint up, down, north, south, east, west, trying to escape? And what happened when he finally escaped? How long did it take for him to be able to relax, even a little? Because he can never relax. He must always outrun Death and her constituents because he can’t count on them to be fair. How many times does he look over his shoulder, waiting for the monster to claim its eternal meal once again? His breath of fresh air, his first taste of companionship in ages not only keeps him company, but sticks by him. And then, in that blessing there comes a curse, because now you have something to lose. Because when you taste ambrosia how can you return to starvation? He feels safe with Charles. Happy and comfortable, but the threat always lingers. And he knows that Charles couldn’t fend off Death. He never considered he could fend off Hell beasts; after all, he’s just a ghost kid. He watches innocents be slaughtered on repeat, unphased by the level of violence but no less affected by it, because no one has even a clue what it takes to be this kind. Even at his most happy, he has so, so much to lose and he goes back to Hell when hope was dangled in his face like the fruit of Tantalus. When he returns, he’s subjected to Hell once again, sustaining through torture that obliterates souls, only to watch his best friend, his confidant, his platonic soulmate, die horrifically. This woman who gave him sea-glass courage, so powerful and yet so fragile. Allowed him to be himself, gave him permission to do so. Was the openness to his closed self, and now she is gone. And he retains his composure, his stiff, British posture because it is what has saved him from madness and Despair, protected him, and now the world is darker without Niko Sasaki in it. But surely he saw this coming. After all, humans are messy. And yet, he shows up for their souls, time and time again.

Edwin Payne is THE character.

[semisomnosres]

I'll try to throw in a little bit of lore

A mysterious disease that only the Norisu clan could resist at the cost of their lives. Unfortunately, it was not possible to completely eradicate it and it terrorizes the city to this day, and only a ninja, thanks to the mask, can fight monsters without being absorbed by this filth. The disease is called the “Sorcerer’s Curse”; in ancient Japan it was believed that all illnesses and misfortunes were the fault of demons/yokai/punishment of the gods and other evil spirits. It all started with the fact that one of the first infected was mistaken for an evil sorcerer who cast a curse on everyone, which was completely wrong, but rumors spread like wildfire, and somehow, imperceptibly, this name stuck. (The First already has a shitload of things to do, he is one of those people who, if he could, would not blink so that he could work more, but coming up with an adequate name and then accustoming people to it is clearly not what he wants to spend his time on.)

Mutated beasts appeared just as unexpectedly along with the infection. Ugly, evil, hungry creatures, wreaking chaos and eating everyone they find. They usually live and hunt in their own territory, but at the same time they have the audacity to sneak into the city to hunt. The curse had a strong impact on the environment, poisoning the land for years and changing it over so many years so that some places resemble nightmares. (For example: Trees that look like a trypophobic hell, boiling swamps where even the steam burns to the point of pain, living pieces of meat growing straight from the ground and other delights that an adequate person would not want to see in person)

It’s relatively safe within the city, except for moments of monster attacks (which a ninja can handle) and shitty weather: hail of icy needles, acid rain season, etc. This is already common and people have adapted to such conditions over so many years. But there are also truly dangerous places where only a ninja or a complete idiot would go. (the level with the swamp from Dark Souls says hello)

From time to time, Randy has to go there voluntarily (forcibly), because only there can he get ingredients for some drugs (like those cones for creating smoke bombs) Infected people - It is quite easy to distinguish from animals - by preserved human features, personal belongings, hair, and the ability to speak humanly (but usually it turns out something incoherent, or the infected person repeats the same word) Over time, their consciousness and body will change more and more: they will begin to forget about themselves, become more aggressive and experience constantly incessant pain from body deformation and insatiable hunger (The speed of development of the virus depends on the person, some can retain their sanity and control over their actions to the last, while others They immediately break down and begin to attack those around them)

Although there are difficult situations, it will be possible to reverse the transformation, but there is an exception. - if they eat a person, or simply taste blood, then they are immediately classified as beasts and belong to extermination. (there is another point of infection, which I will talk about a little later). As in the canon, they are also called Abominations, but for a slightly different reason. In origa, their breath simply stinks, here the unpleasant odor appears due to the decomposition of cells by parasites. They smell like rotten meat in swamp soil and metal.

Logically, I decided to make changes in the approach to battles. (combat medics) They also use weapons/magic, etc., but in the original the ninja has a choice of how hard and how deep he will push the nunchucks into someone’s insides, there are more choices of poisons and types of heals.

Another idea is that it depends on the character of the ninja whether the treatment will be painless or even the feeling of an injection will be the same as being hit with a knife

And I will mention a person who has an important role in the city - McFist. As a true smart-ass capitalist, he managed to make money from the epidemic. (And more precisely, selling all sorts of devices for home protection, umbrellas against acid rain, alarms, etc. And his second profitable industry is the funeral home) Not to say that he is a straight-up villain here, he rather has the vibe of an annoying neighbor. It infuriates him that a ninja, in the heat of fulfilling his duties, can (accidentally) ruin some of his stores, and the ninja is annoyed that it’s up to him to clean up the consequences of some of his awesome ideas (for example, he will build a plant right near the borders of the city, where in the end the pipeline became for monsters highway directly to the city sewer system.)

[deepspacedukat]

Good Catch

This is just a little plot bunny that hopped into my brain. Literally no idea why, it just happened. So...enjoy! 😇

If anyone wants to be added to or removed from my taglist, let me know!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Vorik (ST:VOY) x Reader

[A/N: This is fluff with mild suggestiveness and a brief mention of a previous instance of Pon Farr.]

Warnings: Interspecies romance, Human/Vulcan romance, mild fear, idiots in love, both think their feelings are unrequited, mutual pining, angst, brief mention of past Pon Farr, spoilers for ST:VOY S3E16 "Blood Fever", mild spoilers for ST:VOY S4E1 "Scorpion Pt. 2", the beginning would make more sense if you watch S4E1 first but it's not entirely necessary, and I assume that you've seen "Blood Fever" if you're reading Vorik fanfics, so...🤷‍♀️, kissing, Vulcan hand-holding, touch telepathy, idk what else to put here because it's really just fluff.

~*~

The tension on the ship was already palpable when the chaos started. Everyone was on edge because of our uneasy alliance with a Borg cube, wondering how long it would be before they turned on us and tried to assimilate Voyager. The fact that Species 8472 had turned out to be hostile as well did nothing to alleviate the crew's stress.

With enemies in front of and behind us, all we could do was try to prepare to the best of our ability. I just hoped it would be enough. Vorik had been silent on our way to Engineering for the start of our shift. The silence itself wasn't troubling - Vorik was often contemplative early in the day - but the small frown just barely pinching his brows together...that was worrying.

Inquiring about his well-being had earned me no more than a noncommittal, murmured deflection. All I could think to do was give him a gentle smile and rest one hand briefly on his shoulder. Shockingly, that seemed to help. His forehead relaxed, smoothing out into his usual, calm, neutral expression.

For the next few hours, I noted that whenever I glanced over at his station, the Ensign seemed to have retained whatever sense of ease he'd regained in the corridor that morning.

Soon, however, all thoughts outside of my duties were wiped away. Red alerts began blaring, and it was all hands on deck as we struggled to regain control of Voyager from the Borg.

I'd just begun to cross the second level to access a different terminal when the ship gave an almighty jolt. Before I could brace myself, I was thrown toward the warp core. The low railing struck my back, and I let out a yelp of pain and fear as I began to tumble over the side.

Instead of finding myself flattened or shattered by the fall, however, a vice-like grip on my arm stopped my momentum and tugged me against a sturdy, warm chest. I grabbed at the shoulders of my savior, trembling with residual shock. Only after the ship steadied itself did I manage to catch my breath and glance upward.

Looking down at me with a protectiveness that I had never before witnessed from him, Vorik's shining brown eyes met mine.

"Thank you," I managed to squeak out, but speaking seemed as difficult for him as I'd found it to be. Instead, he nodded his head once and pressed our foreheads carefully together. Vorik knew I was terrified of heights.

After a moment, though, we were forced to pull away from each other and go tend to our duties. Short-lived comfort was all we could manage at times like that. Being stuck in fluidic space after we'd been forced there by the last surviving Borg onboard Voyager was definitely not the right moment to become distracted by our personal tension, even if it had been growing for years.

I knew nothing would ever truly happen between us, though. If he'd seen me as a viable partner, Vorik would've approached me when his pon farr happened the year before. Instead he'd gone for B'Elanna Torres, and I'd forced myself to stay away from him.

I'd requested a transfer to the night shift so that I wouldn't be on duty at the same time as him, and the few moments where our schedules overlapped, I tried to find reasons to be busy in other places.

Yes, his interest in someone else had stung, so I decided that until my own stupid feelings cooled down a bit, I'd keep my distance. Mostly, I just didn't want to embarrass myself in front of him. After all, that Vulcan could read me like a book, and at that particular point, I didn't want him to ponder my emotional state too closely. If he hadn't caught on to the fact that I loved him prior to his pon farr, I certainly wasn't going to change that after he'd made his non-interest known.

I hadn't been rude to him in the aftermath, especially since he was being viewed so poorly by so many of the crew for attacking B'Elanna in engineering, but I hadn't gone out of my way to talk to him, either. The whole situation was a mess, and although I didn't want him to feel alone, I definitely wanted to limit the number of opportunities that I had to make an ass of myself.

Eventually, though, it all came to a head one morning when I'd just finished my shift. As I approached the hall where my quarters were, I saw a familiar head of fluffy back hair standing at attention outside my door.

"Vorik?" I called, and he looked quickly in my direction. Standing even straighter - a feat that I hadn't believed possible - the Ensign acted formally, as if he was addressing a superior officer.

"Ensign, forgive me for disturbing you at this hour, but I...had hoped to speak with you in private," he said in that low, gentle voice that I...oh, I'd missed him more than I anticipated! I blinked in surprise, and opened the door to my quarters, answering his question.

"Would you like some tea or water or something? I know you need to go on duty soon, and I have some extra replicator rations...?"

"Thank you, but no," he murmured as we made our way over to my sofa. We'd held many debates and conversations here over the years, but it had been something like two months since we'd been together like this. I took a seat, but when he remained standing, I looked up at him curiously. "May I?"

"Vorik, we've been friends since before we came aboard Voyager. You know you never need to ask permission to sit down." He seemed surprised by my response, which, in turn, surprised me.

"I did not know if..." he stumbled over his words for a moment as he perched awkwardly on the cushion beside me. "After the incident in Engineering, I was uncertain whether you would be...comfortable with my being in close proximity to you."

I was silent for a moment as I processed what he'd said.

"You thought I'd be afraid of you?" My voice came out as barely a whisper, and when he nodded his head, my heart shattered in my chest. He looked so vulnerable, so afraid that I was going to scream at him or throw him out of my quarters.

"It is the logical conclusion. You did request a transfer to a different shift, did you not?"

Of course he'd found out about that. I don't know why I expected that to remain a secret.

"Yes, but it wasn't because I was afraid of you, Vorik." That may not have been the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie. He seemed relieved, but I didn't want him to dig too deeply, so I changed the subject with a smile. "Now, what brings you here before your shift? How can I help you?"

"My main goal was to ascertain whether I'd frightened you. My subsequent objective..." he trailed off with his brow furrowed. "Upon reflection, I do not know whether this is logical, but I wished to determine what would be required to restore our prior level of interaction. I find myself...troubled by your absence, both in Engineering and in our leisure hours."

"You missed me?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, and just like that, it was Vorik's turn to look surprised.

"Of course. Did you believe that I would be indifferent or pleased to be without you?" Nodding my head, I watched as my friend cautiously moved closer to me on the sofa and placed his hands on my shoulders. "You lend me much metaphorical strength. I value your counsel...and your friendship."

My self-imposed isolation had ended that night. I spoke with B'Elanna and got transferred back to my original shift, which is why Vorik was there to save me when I nearly fell over the railing. If it hadn't been for him, I'd likely be lying in a crumpled heap on the lower deck by now. We'd rekindled our friendship after that lapse, but I knew it would never become anything more.

Regardless, Vorik had saved my life, and I resolved that once we were out of danger, I'd show him how grateful I was.

--

One minor war later, Vorik and I exited Engineering with the rest of our shift, and without a single moment's discussion, I found myself being led by a firm hand grasping my elbow.

"Vorik? Where are we going?"

"Patience." Was it my imagination, or was his voice rougher than usual? He sent the turbolift up before anyone else could board it, and the ride was filled with an undefinable sort of silence.

His grip slipped down from my elbow to my hand, and tingles erupted across my palm. He'd never touched my bare skin before. Vulcans were averse to such contact, and I'd always done my best to respect that boundary.

But he'd been the one to initiate this, not me. As the lift hummed along, Vorik's gaze slipped upward until our eyes met. A mere blink later, his eyes were hooded and hunger flooded his demeanor. Stepping closer to me with our hands still joined, the Ensign backed me up against the wall of the turbolift releasing a whisper of my name in that beautiful, low, silky voice of his.

The tingling in my spine intensified the longer he looked at me - and oh, did he look at me! His eyes seemed to bore right into my soul, stealing my breath and my thoughts with unerring skill. He'd looked at me before, but never the way I wanted him to...never like this.

That frightened me. Oh, the look itself wasn't disquieting, but the possibility that this could lead to something more – something that might damage my heart more than his preference of B'Elanna over me had a year before? That terrified me.

"I did not," he rasped, and I blinked in confusion. "I believed that you did not harbor the same regard for me that I did for you, and it was out of a desire to avoid needlessly damaging the relationship between us that I selected Lieutenant Torres. I did not wish to lose you. To equate yourself with her is the height of illogic, because none could ever compare with you."

Before I could respond beyond a stunned look, however, we arrived at the deck we'd been hurtling toward. The door hissed open, and he began tugging me through the corridors again. We passed through the door to Vorik's quarters, and everything clicked into place. He'd always preferred privacy, only allowing into his space those who needed to be there - like the Doctor and Lieutenant Tuvok.

And then there was me.

I'd never understood why he allowed me in when almost nobody else was permitted the same luxury, but suddenly it all made sense. I was allowed to be there when nobody else was because he trusted me enough to be vulnerable with me. He told me more about himself than he did anyone else. He spent more of his free time with me than anyone else. He knew more about me than anyone else did.

And I'd all but abandoned him after the incident with Torres! Guilt coiled hot and bitter in my gut, and I bit my lower lip. How did he not hate me? How could he have simply been content with our renewed friendship? He should've chewed me out or berated me–

My racing thoughts ground to a halt as the softness of his lips met mine.

Oh.

The kiss was gentle and brief, but it was easily the most tender gesture I'd ever received. When he pulled away just far enough to watch me open my eyes, his hands caught both of mine and lifted them to his chest.

"I...Vorik, that...isn't something friends do," I breathed, feeling like an idiot as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

"You are correct. It is not," he said with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "but I had hoped that my attempts to demonstrate my interest were successful enough to convey that I desire you in more ways than a simple friendship will allow."

"Your interest?" I parroted, and he moved close enough that when I spoke, my lips brushed against his. The contact felt as warm as fire, as sweet as honey, and I was a starving. Ravenous for his touch, his affection, I craved him more than I had anything else in my entire life.

"You cannot have missed it. By Vulcan standards, I have been metaphorically throwing myself at you. Lieutenant Tuvok even suggested that I was being too overt." He grasped my waist, tugging me gently against him as his lips met mine again. A fleeting, barely-there peck later, my patience had stretched to the breaking point as I chased his retreating mouth with my own. "Is there something you need, ashayam?"

Blinking up at him, it occurred to me that he was doing this deliberately.

Vorik was teasing me.

And he looked almost proud of the reaction he'd drawn from me. Beautiful bastard.

"You," I whispered before I could talk myself into being more cautious. "All I need is you."

"Then you shall have me," Vorik promised as he lifted me into his arms and carried me toward his bed.

~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes

@emilie786 @groovyqueer @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @rookietrek

@slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part ninety: "The Ring"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: Matt takes Foggy with him to finally buy an engagement ring for you.

Or You continually almost stumble onto Matt's hiding places for the ring in the apartment.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence

a/n: One of the updates y'all have been waiting for! It's mostly in Matt's POV but that alternates near the end. Also, this installment means the proposal is now fair game to appear at ANY TIME. Feedback is always appreciated! Also, how am I at NINETY of these now??

Tag List: @ninacottee @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @mascamp02 @1988-fiend @linmarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment

Monday

“Alright, Matt,” Foggy said with a sigh.

Matt heard the way Foggy stepped inside his office and leant up against the doorframe before loosening his tie. The sound of fabric fibers rubbing against each other was sharp and loud as it met Matt’s ears. His head rose up from his work, his fingers pausing on the braille before him as he focused on Foggy in the doorway, sending him a tight smile.

“What is this super secret thing you wanted to do with me after work today that absolutely could not wait for another day?” Foggy asked.

Matt's brows drew together as he reached over, his fingers pushing up the sleeve of his shirtt as he felt for the time on his watch. “It’s already five?” he asked, double-checking for himself.

“Yup, buddy,” Foggy answered, running a hand through his hair. “The day dragged on, but alas, it is finally over. Or, at least, the work day is. Though my day is not, since, you know, you practically begged me to assist you this evening with something that you would tell me nothing about."

Internally Matt disagreed with the sentiment about the day dragging on as he began to gather up the papers scattered along his desk. For him, it felt like the day had flown by. He'd been trying to focus on his work all day today, but truthfully all he could think about was finding the perfect engagement ring later once he'd finished at the office. He had absolutely no clue what the first thing was when it came to picking an engagement ring. 

And if Matt was being honest, this was the first time in a long time that he found himself feeling self-conscious about being blind. Because it wasn't like he could see all the different styles and options of rings to find the one he wanted–the perfect one that you'd hopefully wear on your finger for years to come. The one that felt like it fit you . The one you'd say yes to. Admittedly it pained him to ask for help with something so personal and intimate, even if Foggy was like a brother to him. He desperately wished this was something he could do on his own. 

"So are you going to tell me what we're doing?" Foggy questioned again. "Is it something to do with Daredevil? Because I'll be honest, buddy, I'm not so sure I want to get involved in anything illegal. I'd like to retain my ability to practice law after all the hard work I put into getting that degree."

Matt laughed lightly, sliding his chair back from his desk. "It's nothing illegal. And it's nothing to do with…that aspect of my life."

"Okay, so then why the cloak and dagger?" Foggy pressed. "If it's not about Daredevil then I don't get what's with–"

Matt's head tilted to the side, his dark brows pinching together the moment he heard Foggy suck in a sharp breath. He abruptly crossed the room, planting both of his hands firmly on Matt's desk.

"Matthew Michael Murdock are you doing what I think you're doing?" Foggy asked, his question hushed and fast.

"I suppose that depends on what you think I'm doing," Matt countered slowly, rising to his feet.

"Are you–" Foggy leaned in closer to him, "– proposing ?"

A grin drew itself onto Matt’s face, one that he couldn’t possibly fight back. Not as the memory of you calling him family from the other day flashed through his mind.

"Well, I need a ring first," he answered.

Foggy’s right hand curled into a fist before he pumped it up and into the air so abruptly that it took Matt by surprise. The loud whoop he emitted next had managed to last a duration of two seconds before Matt had thrown his hand forward, waving it frantically at Foggy and quickly trying to calm him down as panic shot through him.

"Fog, relax," Matt said in a hushed tone, already hearing the clicking of Karen's heels heading towards his office. "I'd like to keep this between us for now so it can remain a surprise."

"Sorry, you just don't know how excited I am right now," Foggy replied in an excited rush. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this moment, man. I just–"

"What're you so excited about that you're shouting in here without me?" Karen asked, cutting Foggy off. “What moment have you been waiting for?”

Matt could hear the hard swallow from Foggy, noticing the way his friend’s palms had begun to sweat. He was nervous. Which meant Matt probably needed to come up with a fast lie to get Karen off this topic as quick as possible, especially because he was certain that subtle shift in the air was from her gaze curiously dancing back and forth between the pair of them.

“For that new bakery opening up near his apartment,” Matt said, straightening his tie. “He’s been talking about it all week.”

Karen’s eyes narrowed, her head tilting to the side. “He has?” she asked.

Foggy let out a nervous laugh, the sound of which had Matt struggling not to wince. If he kept it up, she’d figure out what was going on in no time. Karen was far too smart and perceptive.

“Suppose it was only to me then,” Matt replied, cutting Fog off before he could speak. “Consider yourself lucky. If I have to hear about bear claws again I might stuff tissues in my ears.”

“Mmm,” Karen hummed out. “Well, I suppose I’m heading home for the night. Unless either of you need anything?”

“No, Karen, we’re just about to head out, too,” Matt said quickly, shooting her a wide smile. “We’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”

“Right,” she replied slowly, dragging the word out. 

There was a brief pause before she said goodbye, and then both Matt and Foggy remained absolutely silent until they’d heard the main office door shut and her heels clicking down the hallway. Foggy exhaled an audible breath, rubbing a hand across his forehead.

“Sorry, Matt,” he apologized. “I forgot she was even here for a moment. It's just–you're going to ask your girl to marry you! This is fantastic news!"

“It’s alright,” Matt assured him with a grin. “But can we just keep this between the pair of us? I’m not sure exactly when I’m proposing, but I’d like it to be a surprise for her. So I’d prefer Karen and Marci not finding out ahead of time–especially Marci. We both know she can’t keep a secret.”

Foggy laughed lightly, shaking his head. “No, that she absolutely cannot do,” he agreed. “So do you know where you want to go to look, or–”

“I know exactly where I want to go,” Matt replied, cutting Foggy off as he made his way around his desk. “I just don’t know exactly what to get.”

“Well you’re in luck, buddy,” Foggy told him. “Because I’ve done this before and it resulted in a positive outcome, so I’d like to think that makes me an expert when it comes to engagement ring shopping.”

Matt chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m counting on it, Foggy.”

Matt’s fingers ran over the ring in his hand, his lips pursed as he tried to focus on the feel of it. Bringing Foggy with shopping for an engagement ring had proved helpful, he had to admit, but the final decision ultimately came down to him. And picking out a ring hadn’t been easy so far, either. 

Currently he had narrowed his choices down to two, but he was torn between them. One was a yellow gold ring with a solitaire pear-shaped diamond, and the other was a white gold ring with a round solitaire diamond surrounded by a series of smaller ones–apparently called a ‘halo.’ He’d eventually concluded that the ring styles with multitudes of diamonds just didn’t suit you. Because you were not flashy and loud, but rather delicate and understated yourself. He figured he wanted a ring that reflected that, one you’d feel comfortable wearing.

But he was also torn between something he thought you’d like–because the woman helping him had assured Matt that solitaire pear-shaped diamond engagement rings were definitely in right now–or something he thought reflected the relationship you both had. The round solitaire with the halo of diamonds was the one he’d been leaning towards; as tacky as it sounded, the circular shape of the diamond did signify that there was no beginning or end to his love for you, plus it was classic and timeless. And the idea of a halo suited you, after all.

His thumb ran over the pear-shaped diamond again, the tip of it pricking the pad of his finger each time. A frown settled on Matt’s lips.

“What is it?” Foggy asked quietly, leaning in towards him. “You look deep in thought.”

“This one just doesn’t feel right,” Matt murmured, the tip of the diamond sharply catching on his finger again. “In more way than one.”

“Then it’s not the one,” Foggy said simply, plucking it out of Matt’s fingers. "What about the other one? What's that one making you feel?"

Foggy placed the round cut ring into Matt's upturned palm. He could feel the weight of the woman's eyes on him from behind the counter, clearly hoping for a sale. He tried to ignore it as he ran his fingers over the shape of it. Nothing caught his skin uncomfortably as he did, not like the other ring. 

For a moment he stood there, feeling the ring in his hand. He imagined it on your finger as he held your hand–the pair of you out at dinner, sitting on the couch together, or after he'd come home from his night out as Daredevil. He imagined running his thumb along it as he called you his fiancé, hearing the way the muscles would shift in your face as you smiled. Gradually a small smile slid onto his lips at the thought, his thumb running over the diamonds again as he imagined feeling it on your finger with a second band, finally being able to call you his wife. 

"It feels like it's for her," he whispered to Foggy. "This is the one. This is her ring."

"Yes!" Foggy exclaimed, clapping Matt excitedly on the back. "I think I'm shaking in excitement over here, man! I can't believe this is finally happening!"

Matt's smiling face focused back down on the ring in his hand. "I can," he told him. "Because it was always going to be her for me. Knew it from the moment she first stumbled into Josie's."

"Now you just need to propose," Foggy told him, patting him on the back again.

Nerves swirled in Matt’s stomach at the thought of finally asking you that life altering question. He'd had an idea planned for that moment for quite a long time now and he only hoped you liked it when he did finally ask.

"I just hope she says yes," Matt whispered. 

"Of course she will," Foggy said, nudging him with his elbow. "Don't overthink it. She’s crazy in love with you, too. Anyone can see it just by looking at her face, Matt."

Tuesday

You awkwardly unlocked the apartment door while trying not to spill the contents of the takeout bag in your hands. Tonight had been a late night at the office for you, having been busy working on meeting a deadline for Ellison before you left. You'd called Matt at his office earlier, telling him that you'd be the one running late tonight and that you'd grab dinner from the Thai restaurant around the corner before you came home so that he didn’t have to worry about cooking.

Opening the door and stepping inside, you were surprised to be met with silence. Confusion washing over you, you wondered if maybe something had happened in Hell’s Kitchen and Matt had gone out early. As you took your shoes off, placing them under the bench and out of the way so no one would trip on them, you noticed the doors to the closet where Matt kept the trunk of his father's things and his Daredevil suit was partially ajar. 

Brows knitting together, you made your way down the entryway hall towards it. If Matt had gone out, he'd have fully shut the doors after getting dressed. It seemed odd he'd have been in that much of a hurry to forget that.

Though when you neared the closet, you spotted one of his red gloves lying on the floor just behind one of the chairs. Frowning, you stepped over towards it and bent down to pick it up–which was when you finally found Matt.

Dressed in a black-tee shirt and gray sweatpants, his large body was curled up on the leather couch under the plush blanket you'd replaced his plaid one with. He was fast asleep, looking absolutely peaceful, but your heart nearly melted when you spotted Mittens' dark gray body curled into a tight ball against Matt’s chest. Nestled in between Matt's muscular arms, the cat looked even smaller than usual.

A smile gradually made its way onto your lips as you watched the pair of them for a moment. They both looked comfortable and content sleeping as they cuddled up together. Despite Matt’s attempts to tell you he wasn't a cat person–or a pet person of any sort–you'd noticed how often he was usually talking to or playing with the cat. Often when he passed by Mittens laying in his cat tree that you’d recently gotten him, Matt would always stop to pet him. It was such a common occurrence that even Mittens expected it, usually raising his head and softly mewing at Matt whenever he neared.

Glancing down at the glove in your hand, you figured Mittens must have gotten into Matt’s trunk while he was asleep. You knew some nights Matt came home exhausted and didn't fully shut and lock the trunk after himself. Mittens must have opened the closet with his little paws and somehow pushed the lid open. Though how the cat had somehow managed to pull his glove out from under that false bottom was an absolute mystery to you. 

Quietly you crossed the living room, making your way over towards the kitchen table to set down the bag of takeout. When you turned, intending to put away Matt's glove, you spotted him groggily sitting up awake on the couch.

"Hey, Matty," you said, making your way back across the living room. "I just got home. I grabbed dinner–it's on the table. I'm just picking up quick if you want to get started on dinner."

"Picking up?" he asked drowsily. “Picking up what?”

His head was tracking your movements across the apartment, his expression switching from drowsy to alert suddenly.

"Yeah, it looks like Mittens got into your trunk again," you told him. "Pulled out a glove. I was just going to–"

"I got it," he said in a rush. 

You hadn't even had a chance to open your mouth to respond before Matt was at your side, removing the glove from your hand. He sent you a tense smile before he gestured his head towards the kitchen.

"You had a long day," he continued. "Why don't you go start on dinner? I can put this away."

You stood there confused, blinking at him and his odd behavior for a moment. After a few seconds, when he urged you a second time to go get some food, you finally nodded and turned. Heading back towards the kitchen to get everything plated for dinner, you briefly wondered what that had been about.

Wednesday 

"Uncle Matt! Uncle Matt!"

The sound of his name ringing out so enthusiastically in the apartment by your now almost four year old nephew easily put the biggest smile onto Matt’s face. He'd barely managed to exit the entryway hall after taking his shoes off before he heard Hudson racing across the apartment. The boy nearly knocked him over when he threw his arms around Matt’s leg, clinging to him in an excited hug.

"Hey, Huds," Matt said with a warm chuckle. "Your aunt told me you might still be here when I got home and I was hoping she was right. I missed you, buddy."

Matt reached his hand down, affectionately ruffling the boy's hair. Hudson giggled, releasing Matt’s leg only long enough to grab onto his hand instead. Matt could hear the way your smile grew from your place on the couch in the living room, watching as Hudson began to drag him into the room further. His heart swelled–he loved you and your family, even if he could still feel Amber occasionally giving him the side-eye when she was around.

“Huds, why don’t we let Matt have a minute to relax?” you suggested. “He just got in the door from work, bud. He might want to get changed.”

Hudson didn’t remotely let up his hold at your suggestion, continuing to drag Matt around the couch. His little hand had a surprisingly strong grip for a toddler. 

Matt shook his head at you, the smile still spread wide over his face. “That’s alright, sweetheart,” he assured you. “I don’t mind at all.”

“I finally got to meet Mittens, Uncle Matt!” Hudson exclaimed, finally dragging Matt to a stop beside the coffee table–though he didn’t relinquish his hold on Matt’s hand. “Hes so soft and cute! And he really liked my dinosaurs!”

“He did?” Matt asked curiously, head tilting to the side.

“Yeah!” Hudson replied. “Momma got me some new ones. Mittens was running around playing with them. It was silly, wasn’t it, auntie?”

Matt heard the way you pushed yourself up from the couch, his attention curiously shifting towards you.

“Yeah, he definitely was having a blast with them,” you agreed, lowering down to your knees before the couch. “And I think he might’ve knocked a couple under here, actually. Ahh, yeah, here they are.”

“There was another one over there,” Hudson said.

Matt’s heart sped up in his chest when he noticed Hudson was pointing near the other side of the apartment. A sharp spike of adrenaline shot through him because he’d moved your engagement ring from the trunk with his suit to behind the radiator after you almost found it last night when he’d been napping on the couch.

“Where’d it go again?” you asked. “Behind the radiator?”

Matt heard the way the air shifted as Hudson nodded his head. The moment he heard you making your way over there he panicked. If you looked back there you’d surely see the ring box he’d tried to hide and he didn’t want to propose to you right here and now, not like this. He had something more planned for that.

“You know what?” Matt said quickly, shooting you a nervous smile as he began walking swiftly towards the radiator. “I can grab it. Don’t worry about it.”

He heard the way you paused, one of your brows raising onto your forehead. He could practically hear you thinking about how weird he was being right now. 

“You’ve had a tough week at the office,” Matt continued, turning and heading over towards the radiator while you were still hesitating. “Just enjoy the time with Hudson.”

“I mean it’s…not that hard to grab something from behind there, Matt,” you said slowly.

His mouth went dry when he heard the strange tone to your voice. Like you thought he was acting off. 

Because admittedly he was.

“Exactly!” he exclaimed.

He shot you a smile over his shoulder as he bent down, sticking his hand behind the radiator. Your eyes were watching him so carefully that he could feel your stare as his fingers brushed over the velvet box. Still smiling at you, he deftly managed to grab both the box and the little dinosaur, pocketing the box discreetly into his suit pocket as he held up the dinosaur in his other hand.

“Found it!” he called out, palms sweating.

Thursday  

Stacking your clean bras in the top drawer of the dresser, you overheard the apartment door opening and closing. You smiled to yourself as you made your way back to the bed, grabbing a stack of your clean socks next. You’d loved living with Matt, adjusting a little faster than you’d anticipated despite some of the small mishaps the pair of you had had over the past couple weeks. 

Glancing up as you headed back to your dresser drawer, you caught sight of Mittens. He’d followed you into the bedroom a bit ago when you’d brought in the load of clean laundry and began to sort through it. He’d long since fallen asleep in his little hammock by the window when you’d started folding the laundry, but the sound of Matt shuffling through the living room had caused him to stir awake. His green eyes were blinking tired and slow, focused on the bedroom door as if he expected Matt to step through.

And sure enough, as you were closing the drawer of the dresser, you felt a pair of hands slip around your waist. The smile on your mouth only grew wider when he leaned over your shoulder, planting a kiss to your cheek.

“Missed you today, sweetheart,” Matt murmured.

“I missed you, too,” you said, turning in his arms. “But we did talk on the phone through part of lunch today, if you remember.”

He hummed in response, nodding his head. “Ahh yes, how could I forget? Katy had some very detailed things to tell you about her date the other night even though she knew you were on the phone with me.”

“Yeah,” you said with a laugh. “She has no shame, that one.”

“Mmm, no, but I’m glad she’s fixated on someone else’s cake for now,” Matt said.

“Ahh yes,” you replied, making your way back towards the bed when Matt released you from his hold. “I’ve heard her talk about that a little too much today, actually. Though she did still say yours is superior, so do not fret, Matt.”

You giggled at the sound of Matt’s groan as you picked up his stack of boxers. Turning, you made your way back towards the dresser, though you noticed the way Matt tensed. Before you could even reach out and open the drawer, Matt had tossed an arm out in front of you, blocking you from the dresser. Taken by surprise, you stopped abruptly and pulled a face.

“What’re you doing?” you asked him.

“I should ask you that as well,” Matt quickly shot back.

You glanced down at the stack of freshly laundered black boxers in your hands. Slowly your attention shifted back up to Matt. One of your brows rose up onto your forehead, your eyes narrowing suspiciously at him.

“Putting away your clean laundry,” you replied. “Obviously.”

Matt’s hands flew forward, taking you yet again by surprise when he grabbed the stack from your hands. The smile on his face looked forced, which only had your eyes narrowing further.

“How about I finish putting away my laundry and you can start the oven?” he asked. “I’ll finish taking care of dinner once I get changed.”

Your eyes gradually slid down towards the dresser, noticing how Matt was now blocking it more fully with his body. Which was…odd.

“Is there something in there you don’t want me to see?” you asked him curiously. “Because I–”

“No!” Matt replied quickly, his smile growing even wider as he shook his head. “No, not at all,” he added, his voice an octave higher than usual. “I just want you to–”

“Relax?” you cut in. “Yeah, you’ve been saying that all week. It’s getting kind of weird, actually.”

“Well you’ve just been so stressed at the Bulletin and dealing with me home most of the week,” Matt told you. “I figured since I’m here I can try to give you some breaks, right? So why don’t you start the oven and relax your pretty little self on the couch with one of your shows, sweetheart. Let me finish this.”

For a moment you stood there, eyeing Matt suspiciously. He was up to something, that much was obvious. But what remained a mystery to you. 

Figuring it had something to do with Daredevil, you sighed and nodded before heading out of the bedroom.

Sunday  

Matt could hear the tension in Foggy’s muscles as he slid the living room window open. From his place on the fire escape, Matt could still hear Marci in their bathroom presumably washing the makeup off of her face.

"What the hell are you doing here, Matt?" Foggy hissed through the opening. "You know you can stop by dressed in normal clothes using the front door, right? Not popping up on the fire escape dressed like that ." 

Foggy dramatically waved his hand, gesturing at Matt’s Daredevil suit. Matt sighed before holding up the box in his hand, hearing the way Foggy gasped the moment he noticed it.

"Wait, are you proposing to her?" Foggy asked in shock. "Oh buddy, please tell me you're not doing it in the suit. Because as much as I'm sure you think she might enjoy it, I don't think she'd actually want you–"

"Fog, stop," Matt said, waving his hand at him. "Of course I'm not proposing to her in the suit. I'm not proposing tonight, I just came to ask you a huge favor."

He heard the way Foggy’s eyes narrowed, his head tilting curiously to the side. In the other room, Marci was still thankfully washing her face.

"What sort of favor are we talking about?" he asked slowly.

"Can you keep this here?" Matt practically begged, holding the box with the ring in it higher. "Preferably somewhere Marci can't find it and spoil the surprise? Because I have been going insane this week, Fog. Every time I hide it somewhere I think she'd never go–the radiator, next to my suit in the trunk, my damn shoes–she keeps almost finding it. And Fog, buddy, I can't take the anxiety anymore. I swear she must already think something is going on."

"Okay, yeah, sure," Foggy replied, accepting the box Matt practically shoved at him. "I can keep it safe here until you need it."

"Oh thank God," Matt said with a relieved sigh. "You have no idea how grateful I am. I owe you one."

"Think you owe me more than one, Matt," Foggy countered.

Matt sent Foggy a sheepish smile. He was about to respond when he heard the faucet turn off in the bathroom. 

"Marci is about done, I got to go," Matt said in a rush. "Hide that somewhere good, please. But…don't forget where, either."

As Matt turned and hopped over the fire escape railing, he caught Foggy’s promise to safeguard his ring, considering it his first duty as Best Man. The comment had Matt grinning as he continued to make his way down the side of the building.

[noproofread]

The Swordsman (NSFW)

This is Zoro x afab!reader. Use of "girl". NSFW. Some light choking, and some praise. Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids, dont do this).

Could be live action or animated versions of Zoro ;)

word count: 1,415

You walked out to the upper deck of the Thousand Sunny. The salty sea air hitting you as you looked out at nothing but blue surrounding you. Your eyes fixate on Zoro. Pirate Hunter Zoro. It almost seemed impossible that such a prolific bounty hunter would join a pirate crew, but you also knew firsthand how charismatic the captain was. You found yourself staring at him. He was training, practicing his sword fighting techniques. You admired the way he moved, aggressive but still graceful. He is very attractive too, you could admit that, it’s not like you’re blind. He’s muscular, his voice is like honey in your ears, and he did make you laugh sometimes. Usopp would often tell the two of you to stop flirting so much but he didn’t know this was just how the friendship was. 

You aren’t the strongest fighter on the crew. Truthfully, Luffy only asked you to join because you ran really fast and he wanted to beat you in a race. Nami’s the one that figured your agility could be useful as support during a fight. Regardless, you felt like you should have some kind of fighting ability if you were going to keep up with the crew and support the future King of the Pirates.

You approached Zoro confidently, having made up your mind about asking him for help. He looked over at you and stopped his exercises. “Hey Zoro! I was just wondering if you could teach me a little sword fighting.” You met his gaze and noticed he raised one eyebrow, clearly surprised and amused at your request. “I don’t teach for free…” He said with that low tone in his voice that you found intoxicating. “You want me to pay your debt to Nami?” You suggest, smirking as if you don’t know what he’s implying. He chuckles softly “Maybe… Maybe I want a different favor…” Zoro winks at you and you laugh softly. “Well I’ll be glad to do this favor for you if you do this favor for me. Plus, it’s worth it if I get to spend more time with you.” You don’t break eye contact with him, he smiles and takes a deep breath.

“Alright, time for some swordsmanship basics.” He stops and looks you over once before continuing “What do you know already?” “I know how to hold it… That’s basically it” You smile at him as he shakes his head. “You’re lucky you’re pretty. Alright, first rule is never let your guard down. Always be alert.” He begins to teach you but you don’t retain any information. Your brain stopped listening after the “pretty” comment. “You think I’m pretty?” You blurt out, making the swordsman look at you with a smirk. “Shut up and listen. Let’s work on your stance.” You decide to challenge him a little, what’s a private lesson without some teasing?

“Hmm. I love it when you get all dominant like that. Yes sir.” Zoro chokes a little at your comment before smiling “Good girl. After we get your stance down we’ll move onto attacking and defending. You got that?” You felt your body heat rise, suddenly aware of the thick tension in the air. You played along, seeing how far it could go. “Good girl? Oh… Yes I got that.” You bite your lip and continue with the lesson. “Can you help me with my stance, Zoro? I don’t know if this is right.” You say with a fake innocence in your voice as you look at Zoro, your eyes plead and you see him blush lightly. He smirks and walks over towards you. He grabs your hips, adjusting your stance. You gasp softly at the sudden contact of his hands on you. “There, now you hold the sword like this.” He speaks, his voice softer now. Zoro slides a sword in between your hands, carefully placing your hands on the back of the sword with his own. Your breath hitches, you press your back closer to him as you slowly turn your head to look at him. “Am I doing it right, Zoro?” Your voice with a sultry undertone to it, your eyes meet his. “You’re a natural…” His voice is down to a whisper as his eyes are looking at your lips. The air feels thick around you. You feel him press himself against your back, his breathing is heavy, being affected by the tension between you. 

You feel his arousal grow, unable to hold yourselves back anymore he kisses you passionately. The sword clatters on the floor as you throw your arms around his neck. You feel Zoro’s hands travel down your back, clamping down on your ass before giving you a boost allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he holds you up. His tongue teases your bottom lip as you open your mouth, allowing him to enter your mouth. His tongue feels soft on yours, you groan into his mouth. Zoro manages to walk into the men’s quarters. And to your benefit, it’s empty.

Zoro puts you down, pressing himself against you. Leaving a messy trail of kisses on your neck. You buck your hips, desperate for any type of friction as heat pools in your lower stomach. Zoro moans into your mouth as you grind your hips into his, feeling his hard dick inside his pants. His hands move under your shirt, cupping your breasts as you decide to unbutton his pants. He chuckles and pulls away just enough to have room to take off his pants. As he undresses himself, you quickly do the same. Suddenly, you feel Zoro’s hands rubbing your legs, moving upwards towards your thighs. You shiver at his touch as you feel his fingers trace the outline of your pussy. You stifle back a moan, looking over at him. He looks back at you, licking his lips slightly, his eyes black with lust. He lines his dick up with your entrance, deciding to tease you a little bit. He rubs the tip of his dick against your clit, earning a loud moan from you as he throws his own head back. You feel dizzy, desperate for him. “Zoro please…” You whine. He smirks. “Begging for me already? But you were doing so good for me.” He leans down and places a rough kiss on your lips. You buck your hips once again, wanting more friction. The swordsman chuckles against your lips. “Eager are we?” He whispers against your lips. You look up at him. “Please, I need you Zoro…”

“How could I say no to you?” He growls as he slowly enters you. The feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. You moan loudly as he fills you up. Zoro groans into the crook of your neck. Your hands run down his back, scratching as they go. Zoro begins with a steady pace. He raises your hips slightly, the position provides friction for your clit, earning more moans from you. “Fuck, you’re doing so good for me.” Zoro strains his words as his movements become more aggressive. “Zoro…” You moan his name, biting his shoulder to keep yourself from being too loud. Zoro groans, his pace speeding up and becoming messier. “You take it so good, fuck.” Zoro can barely speak, ramming into you. You can feel yourself reaching your climax. Zoro lets go of your hips, bringing his hand to your neck. Your eyes widen in surprise as you meet Zoro’s gaze. He bites his bottom lip as he tightens his grip on your neck. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, overwhelmed by the feeling of him slamming into you and his hand on your neck. “Be a good girl and cum for me.” Zoro whispers into your ear as you feel his dick twitching inside of you. As you hear his voice followed by more grunts, your vision gets blurry as you reach your high. Your walls clamp down on him, making Zoro also reach his climax. His grip on your neck tightens a little more as you both ride out your highs. 

Zoro rolls over, pulling out of you and panting. You feel the absence of him as you try to catch your own breath. After a couple of minutes you finally speak. “Hell of a sword fighting lesson huh?” He chuckles. “We might need to make these lessons a regular thing if you plan on learning anything… A little at a time I guess.”

[yanderes-galore]

Also another yandere concept for Narancia because again Yandere potential

Sure! Just a warning, I started this late at night because I couldn't sleep and didn't want to wait, so spelling and grammar may be incorrect. Decided to cover overall behavior and tendencies more than an actual plot.

Yandere! Narancia Ghirga Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Anger issues, Stalking, Manipulation, Jealousy, Violence, Delusional behavior, Possessive behavior, Overprotective behavior, Threats, Blood, Murder implied, Dubious companionship/relationship.

Narancia could be considered a very clingy and volatile yandere.

He's had a tough upbringing and would definitely be overly attached to someone he likes.

His behavior and Stand bring up some things to consider with him being a yandere.

For example, he can use Aerosmith to stalk you by tracking your breathing.

Narancia doesn't even have to be all that close and the ability means you can't leave easily.

Narancia is a yandere you have to be careful around.

I say this due to his temper that can change rather quickly.

He most likely shares this trait with Fugo, but Narancia is more childish.

Narancia may be rough at times, yet he's endlessly loyal.

When obsessed with you he's determined to win over your attention.

Even as an adult in this concept he retains childish behavior.

An example of this is being temperamental and overly upset when jealous.

Due to his temper I wouldn't be surprised if he attacked someone for being too close to you.

It just seems to be his nature.

Narancia is often a handful for his obsession.

He values the bond he has with his obsession and is scared of possible betrayal.

Which makes him nervous that he'll lose your attention.

While Narancia is primarily an unnerving and terrifying yandere, he's so sweet with you.

Sweet to the point others wouldn't suspect a thing.

He's unnerving, threatening, and aggressive with others.

Yet with you he clings to you, all smiles and sweetness.

Even Fugo is perplexed when Narancia is around his favorite person.

Narancia may also be delusional with you, convinced you feel the same about him.

He works as either platonic or romantic, his core yandere is pretty much the same regardless.

Said core yandere is clingy, volatile, and manipulative.

He definitely acts childish when you have to leave him alone.

He often complains and pouts when you tell him you have to go.

Even when you leave he still sends Aerosmith to track you.

When you're away from Narancia, others notice him and see him not being as excited as usual.

He really is at his best (and worse) with you by his side.

Which is why he manipulates you into staying with him as long as possible.

His most terrifying factor is his violent nature.

He always has a switch blade on him and is rather quick to pull it out on people.

The moment anyone says something about you near Narancia, he listens.

Negative or positive, Narancia wants others to keep your name out of their mouths.

He may just cut their tongue out to prevent that.

The thing is, Narancia doesn't seem like he'd be a bad yandere.

But he is.

He's incredibly possessive.

It's to the point he'll threaten or even harm those too close to you.

He works in a gang, he's used to this sort of thing since he was young.

He can be terrifying to someone he doesn't like... then immediately come up to you all smiles.

Oh he adores you.

Finding blood on his clothes isn't new.

You just have to silently hope that he didn't kill some poor soul.

Although, if he wanted that to happen and you not to know about it...

He could always just use Aerosmith.

Fugo may confront Narancia about his obsession, but he only gets told off by his friend.

It's not weird...

Not in Narancia's eyes, at least.

It's dangerous out there, Narancia following you home is just to make sure you get there safely.

Same reason when he uses Aerosmith to guard you!

You just seem to... understand Narancia, which is why you're the one he clings to.

He doesn't seem like he'd kidnap, he seems more into following you around.

He wants you to have some freedom... you wouldn't like him otherwise.

Plus, anyone who gets too close usually ends up with an irritated Narancia confronting them.

Narancia is very needy when it comes to affection and definitely enjoys physical affection.

Things like hugs (alternatively kisses) are things he enjoys.

If anyone has an issue seeing him being affectionate with you, you can guess what happens.

So overall, Narancia is definitely a temperamental and childish yandere who clings to his darling.

He hates to share and will do anything to keep your attention on him.

No one can take you from him once he's attached...

Not unless they want a switchblade in the chest or a barrage of bullets through their flesh.

"Oi, where are you going!? Don't leave yet...! Please stay longer!"

[blues824]

☀️Can I please request tokyo revengers with a female yoriichi tsugikuni s/o

☀️Imagine she got reincarnated in to their time.

☀️Her still being reincarnated with the demon slayer Mark and them finding out what it means.

☀️They thought mikey was a mense until they met their s/o (when they learn when they were 80 they were still unbeatable 💀)

☀️Her taking about her twin brother and life story telling them she invented sun breathing what they still can use.

☀️Imagine them watching how powerful she can be with a katan (who is she fighting michikatsu tsugikuni/ kokushibo who is also reincarnated and the only person I can think of they can train with )

Upon further clarification, this will include Mikey, Draken, Baji, Mitsuya, and I’ll throw in Takemichi because why the hell not?

Manjiro Sano (Mikey)

He would’ve thought that you were so cool. Your scar was definitely what captured his attention, and also the fact that when he fought against you, you won with no question. Your twin was also very strong, and the only person you can actually train with without you immediately killing them.

When you show him your Sun Breathing, he is shocked. You looked so graceful that he couldn’t help when his heart fluttered and skipped a beat out of nowhere. There is just something about being with a girl who could kill you in a matter of milliseconds that was just so attractive to him, apparently. He is with you, after all.

Your skill with a katana was also something he viewed as cool, and he even asked if he could try wielding it. It was a bit more difficult than he imagined, but he is well-versed in every conceivable weapon. He would be a good opponent to a higher-ranking demon slayer, maybe even a Hashira.

Ken Ryuguji (Draken)

You made a very worthy opponent, and you pinned him down to the ground. We all know how he feels about people who are strong (or even stronger than him), so as you could probably tell you immediately got on his good side. This isn’t even including your skills with a katana or your Sun Breathing.

He had the ‘honor’ (his words) to witness a sparring session between you and your twin, and the concrete below was absolutely destroyed. There were cuts, there were bruises, there were gashes, there was a broken nose on your twin’s part, etc. Draken never knew that you had such a ruthless side to you.

When he saw you practicing with your katana, he was curious about how you managed to accumulate such an overwhelming amount of skill. You had handed it to him, and guided his movements gently as you explained that you had died in your past life of being a demon slayer. 

Keisuke Baji

You both had met when he decided to pick a fight with you and you beat him in a matter of seconds. You had applauded his bravery and his tactics, and that’s how his feelings for you started. The scar upon your head was something he had noticed in that one fight, and it caused him to get a bit distracted, or so he claims.

He had seen a sparring session between you and your twin, and if he did not know that it was just a sparring session he would have thought that you were fighting to the death. Typically, Baji could hold his own against very strong opponents, but that was before he met either you or Kokushibo.

Then, you pulled out your katana and started using sun breathing as your twin brother used his blood art (he’s not a demon in this life, but still retains his abilities) and it was so cool. Of course, neither used 100% of their power, but it was definitely the training of a lifetime that Keisuke witnessed.

Takashi Mitsuya

The first time he saw you, he also noticed the scar on your head, and he knew that you had been through way more pain than he had. The two of you tend to stick to peace, but won’t hesitate to fight if the situation calls for it. He has seen you fight as well, and you are the most feared person in any gang.

That is, along with your twin. The two of you sparring is like an unstoppable force meets an immovable object and when Mitsuya saw the two of you, he was shocked. The fact that the two of you had that amount of power was surprising, to say the least.

When he saw you unsheath your katana and continue the battle, he noticed how graceful it was. Your Sun Breathing helped it immensely, and you ended up beating your twin. Mitsuya gave a small round of applause as he congratulated you for being the victor.

Takemichi Hanagaki

He assumed you were a tear in time as he kept jumping back in time again and again, but in reality you were always there and he just suppressed your memory. After all, he knew that the scar upon your forehead was familiar, as though he has traced it multiple times. Oh that’s right, he has, because you were his girlfriend and you have laid your head in his lap numerous times.

The first time he saw you sparring against your twin, he actually thought it was a fight to the death. There was no way that the battle wasn’t personal because you both were just going at each other like cats and dogs. However, it really was just sparring and nothing else.

Your skills with a katana also surprised him. You had managed to retain your Sun Breathing even after being reincarnated, and Takemichi watched as you ended the sparring session by winning. He let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

[evilasiangenius]

“What do I do?” Crowley sighed, pulling his black pallium about himself closer. “When everything is ruined. Nothing’s going to bring the world back. Nothing’s going to bring Aziraphale–”

There were some other things that he could not say, thoughts that he could only think to himself because saying it would give it too much power and so he bit off the rest of the sentence before he could continue it. He opened his mouth to speak again, but then the starling flapped off his boot and onto the knuckles of his right hand, little sharp claws curled gently around his fingers.

“Yeah?” Crowley lifted his hand to look the bird in the eye, at the ring of an iris slightly pale.

“Fuck off,” the bird said very clearly, and it wasn’t a language that was any human language, but the language the angels spoke, fallen and otherwise, a universal language that could be understood by anyone.

“Huh,” Crowley said, staring at the bird that flew away and then turning his attention to fingers that seemed to retain the memory of the bird’s claws. The last time that a starling had perched on his hand was centuries ago. He had been lying on Aziraphale’s favorite supper couch, long hair tangled beneath his cheek, his eyes filled with tears and the starling had briefly landed upon his fingers before he shooed it away.

He had curled up in a tight ball upon that supper couch that he had never until that moment reclined upon alone, a miserable tear-streaked wreck, face pressed against the large cushions as if he could smother himself in it, picking up the lingering scent of Aziraphale’s hair, his body, a scent that was like the freshness of the cold air coming off the mountaintop or was it fire from a distant long-forgotten star and then the whiffs of peppery lavender that would waft snappy from Aziraphale’s clothes.

Back then, the pain had seemed like it would never end.

And perhaps it never did, because he could still feel it.

The birds were noisy.

Aziraphale had so many of them in that old house so long ago abandoned, none of them caged of course, the cages were only there for show, for propriety’s sake. The birds roamed free about his place though they all seemed to miraculously keep it clean.

The scents were noisy.

The house was filled with little bottles and big jars of precious scents that he had been opening out of curiosity and not bothering to close, so the air itself was a cacophony of flowers and herbs and resins and spices.

His thoughts were noisy.

All he could think of was how much he wanted Aziraphale to be here now, instead recalled Upstairs for some indeterminable time and maybe this time Aziraphale would never be allowed to return again and that fear had choked him up until it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

And back then, in a fit of rage at the loud sound of their cheerful singing as if the birds did not care that he was mourning, at the loud scents of the lovely perfumes stifling the air, choking his ability to mourn properly, at the loud fear inside his head that had grown to a fever pitch, his infernal will had slammed all the doors and windows open all at once.

“Get out! Now! Fuck off!” He had shouted, with a gesture so fierce it threw him off the couch and the birds had obeyed, disappearing out into the world.

Once he realized what he did – that he had broken his promise to Aziraphale to care for his birds, that he had chased off the very birds that had learned Aziraphale’s voice and his songs and his way of greeting – so warmly, as if he truly loved each and every being he said it to – Crowley had stayed there on the cold mosaic floor, his face pressed against a modest but tasteful work, a charioteer urging his team of two horses onward to victory though so close to it the pattern was meaningless to his eyes, nothing more than discrete chips of color. He had run his fingertips over the little bits of colored stone, around the smoothed edges of tesserae that darkened as his tears dripped hot upon cold stone, cold mortar.

Lost in memory, he didn’t hear Aziraphale approach.

more

[pinkthick]

I’ll always be there for you

Credits: @bluekernal / @quaritchsgirl

Pairing: Avatar!Miles Quaritch & Kid!Miles Socorro

Summary: Even though it's challenging to be a single parent, let alone an avatar, Quaritch is doing his best to care for little Miles. But he still finds himself thinking about his previous life.

Notes: Please take a moment to read this. Check out @bluekernal/ @quaritchsgirl’s blog because she created this AU, and let me tell you, her artwork is incredible.This fanfiction was greatly inspired by her drawings.

While Miles did pass away in this fanfiction exactly like in the original film, the RDA would have started this project earlier because the avatar body was already on Pandora and the humans hadn’t been sent back to earth. The humans are still living there, but the Na’vi still don’t accept them so fights ensure from time to time. Even though Quaritch is an avatar now, he still retains his previous memories, and he continues to serve in the ‘military’ on Pandora without his consent since he literally became the RDA’s propriety, but Jake Sully isn’t that important to him, his son on the other hand is what matters most to Quaritch.

Miles forbade his soldiers from having relationships between them. His first instruction as their commander was that. A weakness they cannot afford to have in the battlefield, according to his father, is having sentiments. And from a very young age, that was ingrained in him.

He couldn't believe it was him who had broken his most crucial rule.

Paz Sorroco. She was a bold and fierce woman. She had always been a more devoted soldier than he had ever been. Determined in everything she was doing. Paz even disregarded some directives that her superior had given her. She always thought it was worthwhile to fight for their home. She has always been very stubborn, something Miles has always found admirable in her.

Being completely honest, he never imagined that so much could change in just a short period of time. He always believed that there was nothing more in life that he could have asked for. Everything he ever wanted was given to him. But, as all stories go, something–er, someone came into his life. His baby boy, Miles Sorroco, came into the world. Paz’s greatest gift to him. He never understood why she had wanted to name the boy after him, but somehow right now, it brought him comfort. When Miles first saw him, he literally lost his ability to breath. He truly believed that the he could blow him away with only a small exhalation because the baby appeared to be so frail.

When Paz held the baby out to him, he was so insistent on refusing. He refused three times before the colonel finally took little Miles from Paz’s demanding hands. He hadn’t any clue on how to hold him. He had to sit right beside his partener in order to receive instructions. How the tables have turned. He tenderly held his head as he slowly rocked him. It didn’t feel real to him. Oh, how he remembers how his tiny hand wrapped around his finger. Paz could swore that she saw tears. When the little boy first opened his eyes, the soldier was shocked to see how much the boy resembled his mother.

Miles finally spoke “I’m—I’m a father, Paz.” His breathing was wavering and he just couldn’t believe it.

The woman besides him giggled “Yeah, you’re a father.”

He simply lifted the baby’s fist that encircled his finger and kissed it softly. “I promise you that I’ll always protect you little one.” He was unsure of why his father never felt this way about him, but he undoubtedly won't behave in the same way as his old man. He would try his best no matter what.

But he was unable to protect the boy's mother. That was the only time he disliked her stubbornness. Paz wanted to be there, to fight for their cause. So she didn't remain with another unit. Even now, he continues to hold himself responsible, but the idea that he was somehow lucky is something he still finds repulsive. He didn't fully recall how he died, but thanks to some insurance he had, they were able to transfer all of his memories into an avatar body. He was now RDA's property, a “Recom" as they call him.

The tail was what first upset him the most, which was strange. Most of the time, he made an effort to control it but had little success. Though he swiftly adjusted to his new form, he eventually came to terms with the fact that his ears and tail would always respond to his emotions, whether he liked it or not.

Although he was still on Pandora and felt secure knowing that not all of the unit had been destroyed and that it was still standing, he didn't give the other people any thought. His son was the most important thing to him right now. From this point forward, the toddler had only his father and he couldn’t help but feel guilty that his son will grow up without a mother.

For approximately six weeks, the boy had been staying with some nurses. He knew his son was safe but Miles couldn't quit thinking about him. He wasn't sure if the toddler was crying or eating properly, and he wasn't allowed to leave the grounds until the examinations were over. He didn’t like not knowing what was happening to his child.

The first time Miles saw Quaritch as an avatar was when he was a year old. He wasn't sure how the youngster would react, but it wasn't at all what he had anticipated. The soldier leaned over the tiny boy with both interest and fear as little Miles was hugging one of the nurses' legs and then child gazed up at his father. He would certainly not want to frighten the young boy so he moved slowly. He knelt to be closer to the toddler's eye level, but his son no longer turned to face the colonel. He continued to cling to the nurse like a monkey, burrowing his face into her leg. His heart began to race because he didn’t know exactly how to approach the young boy, but he tried, softly asking, "Miles?"

Finally, the young child turned to face him, his eyes a little moist as though he was about to cry. As the colonel drew near, his son murmured in a weak voice, "Dad?" When the child didn't back away from him, he felt more at ease and said, "Yea," chuckling as he added, "It's me Miles, your dad." The young kid immediately recognized his father's voice, but he wasn't certain it was indeed him. When Quaritch reached out with his blue hand, the boy let go of the nurse. Seeing a smile on her face as he looked up to get some form of confirmation, he realized everything was alright.

Little Miles approached the avatar slowly and gazed into the colonel's yellow eyes. Quaritch wasn't sure exactly what to do, he didn't want to frighten the child away, so he didn't move, and the boy eventually grabbed his hand.

He was unable to fathom the boy's current size in relation to himself. The youngster was so small. He didn't believe his son was capable of being cuter than before. When the toddler smiled at Miles, the soldier thought that he would have died of cuteness right there. His son’s little hand couldn't even grip three of his fingers. Paz, you would have cherished seeing this.

It will be hard taking care of the boy, he ain’t going to lie to himself, but he’ll manage, that’s for sure.

Quaritch heard beeping nearby, which he instantly picked up, but he soon realized that he could actually sleep in today because his meeting wasn't until later in the afternoon. Even though he didn't want to open his eyes, he did so after stretching out an arm to shut the alarm. He checked on Miles and saw that the boy was still tucked in bed besides him. The only problem? Is that the alarm woke him up.

As he turned to face his father, the child rubbed his eyes a little and grinned when he realized that his father was also awake. Returning the smile, Quaritch once again buried his face in the cushions since he was unable to keep his eyes open. God, he was exhausted.

“Dad?” The four-year-old hopped over his father and said, "Come on, it's eight in the morning.” A huff was nevertheless pushed out even though he hardly felt the boy land on him.

“Just give me five more minutes to sleep, boy. “ He muttered into the sheets as little Miles got off the avatar and the bed.

“What am I supposed to do then?” He inquired, his voice containing a tinge of disappointment.

The recom didn't even have the energy to turn his head to look at the boy, only saying, "Play for a little while."

Knowing that his son hardly slept in, Quartich understood it was pointless to try to coax him to. Yet, little Miles never, ever played in silence, which forced him to wonder what the boy was up to. But, the colonel's five minutes of sleep quickly grew into an hour.

He didn't hear the child leave or enter the room again. With his plate of food still in hand, Miles carefully climbed back into bed. The soldier next to him woke up when he sensed movement, but he remained still. Given the smell, the young kid most likely eating an omlet.

“Dad?” his son asked with his full mouth.

“Mm?” He didn’t manage to even form a full word right now.

“It’s morning.” The little boy repeated as he put the plate on the night stand and went towards his father.

For a few minutes, Quaritch remained silent. But when Miles prodded his arm, he finally uttered a worn-out "no."

"Lyle went with me to the canteen," the kid huffed, flopping onto his back and started to gaze up at the ceiling.

The small child was quite frustrated that the colonel was still quiet. He gave him another hour to sleep; wasn't it enough for his father? He wanted to play with him because he knew his father was soon to leave on a mission and he wanted to spend as much time as possible with him before that happened. However, Quartich slept when his father could play with him. That won’t do at all.

The soldier was surprised by another tiny prod, but this time it was against his ribs. He initially tried to ignore it and try to get back to sleep, but then the poking started again, this time a little more forcefully. Little Miles appeared to laugh when his tail began to move slightly under the cover, but he still persisted in prodding his father.

He pushed himself to open his eyes with a quiet grunt. "Bud, please stop." Of course, his son continued on. Back against the pillows, Quartich groaned while pressing his face against them. He sometimes felt like this boy could be the death of him.

“Dad, wake up!” He chanted as the soldier supported himself on his arms to look at the boy. His son gave him a sweet smile in response.

“Miles..” he let a whine as he tried to now grab the little boy without much succes. He flipped over, still with his eyes half closed and that’s when the kid attached to the man before him. He started to use his father as a climbing frame.

As he resisted his father's attempts to catch him, he giggled and said, "I want to play."

Finally Quaritch managed to grab him and wrestle him off his neck. He looked at the boy and understood that there was no way that his son would let him go back to sleep so he accepted his defeat quickly. His tail started to flick playfully and then started to tickle the young boy, who erupted into giggles. A sleepy smile spread across his face at the joyous laughter emerging from his son. Little Miles gasped for air and the soldier finally stopped.

The boy began to jump up and down on the bed once more and the colonel sighed as he finally turned to look around the room, wanting to see the state it was in. The fact that there were toys all over the floor didn't bother him; however, the slime that was stuck to the wall did. How on earth did he pull that off?

He thought that maybe it was more preferable than Miles drawing on the wall. Just as long as he doesn't have to repaint the walls…again—it’ll be alright.

“What did you do to the wall?” Quaritch questioned as his son stopped bouncing and refrained from even looking at him in the eyes.

“I didn’t mean to.” Little Miles spoke in a low voice and he just couldn’t be mad at him. But that doesn’t mean he won’t be the one to clean it.

“It's alright, buddy, but you still need to clean it, y’know.” After receiving a nod, Quaritch picked up his son so they could prepare for the day. He would deal with the wall later.

It was usually simple to give him a shower, but his child loathed brushing his teeth more than anything.

Miles wiggled to be set down as soon as they entered the bathroom. “I don't want to." he complained to his father. The colonel still tried to explain that if the little boy will clean his teeth, he won’t be going to the dentist anywhere near the future, but yet he always misunderstood what his father was saying to him.

His ears flopped down as he made an effort to reason with the 4-year-old. Finally when his kid finally took the toothbrush from his grasp, he began to think about Miles' first trip to the dentist.

When they both entered the hallways from unit 7, the scent of the sterile environment mixed with dental care chemicals was obvious. Quaritch had never been afraid of the dentist, even as a kid because he didn't have any dental issues and usually just went for a checkup. But today wasn’t about him, it was about his son.

It wasn't like little Miles would have any kind of procedure done to him—it was simply a straightforward dental exam—but his kid clung to him as he visibly stiffened. The young boy whispered softly, "I'm scared" as he still didn’t want to let go of his father.

The soldier smiled, attempting to reassure the boy that he had nothing to be afraid of. "All Doctor Palmer is going to do is look at your teeth for a little while," the soldier said. “That's all.”

Although his son remained silent, Quaritch could tell that he was still uncertain. "Do you really believe I would take you somewhere or permit someone to hurt you?"

Little Miles said, "No," as he encircled his father's neck with his arms. “But what if they remove all of my teeth and force me to wear fake teeth?”

Quaritch wasn't at all prepared for such question, and he was certain Lyle was responsible for instilling his kid with that ridiculous idea. He really wanted to speak with his soldier later.

“Don't worry, she won't.” He responded briefly. “And besides, that’s usually done for older people.”

“Oh. Like you and Lyle?" The young boy asked sincerely, and it's safe to assume that his father was surprised. But, one of the dental hygienists showed up before he could respond. He remembered her quite well. When they were still getting used to their new bodies, Doctor Palmer was one of the dentists who checked to see if anything was wrong with any of them.

“You must be Miles.” The little boy, that was still in his father’s arms, received a warm smile from the woman. “We’re ready for you now.” She didn’t say anything as they went to an examine room and as Quaritch ducked under the door so that he could enter, Miles simply tightened his hold on his father.

As she put down his tablet, the colonel also put the boy down even if he did get some protests from his son.

“Alright Miles, if you would take a seat.” Doctor Palmer said as she placed a booster seat on the large examaning chair.

The 4 year old took a step back and braced himself against his father’s legs.

“Miles, it’s alright. I’m right here.” Quaritch reassured him “Go on.”

He gave his father one last glance before turning to go towards the chiar, uttering a low "okay."

The soldier saw his son ascend the booster seat and breathed through his mask.

“Is he allergic to any kind of medication?” The doctor asked his father.

“No” He replied as he watched the woman jot down the details in a folder, then made his way over to the sink to wash her hands. The doctor then donned a brand-new set of latex gloves.

"So Miles, do you have a favorite animal?" She inquired so the little boy could loosen a bit.

“I like spiders.” He declared while beaming enthusiastically.

“Spiders? How so?"

“I saw the movie Spider-Man recently! He is the coolest superhero.” As soon as she noticed that he had somewhat relaxed, the woman smiled.

“I agree. I like how his suit the most.” She said to him as she started to raise her hands “So Miles, let’s see those teeth. Open wide.”

The boy's smile quickly vanished as he turned to face his father, who had a comforting smile on his face. The boy then finally opened his mouth.

Quaritch felt like the exam and the cleaning went well. Miles was calm while Doctor Palmer cleaned his teeth. It was when the metal instruments were starting to get used was when he noticed that his son started to grasp the chair tightly. The doctor was able to calm him somehow, but stopped abruptly when the boy flinched.

The colonel’s ears peeked up as he looked at them unsure at what was happening.

“It seems you have a cavity, Miles" The doctor continued, turning to face his father, "It's on his canine on the lower jaw.”

“What should we do?” Quaritch asked as he looked at his son, seeing that he was distressed.

“Normally, I would be thinking about getting it fixed right now since it’s small, but if you feel like we should leave it alone since it’s a baby tooth, we could do that.” She explained as she looked now at the agitated boy.

“I don't want it to cause him any issues.” Quaritch replied as he drew nearer to the boy.

“Will it hurt?” His eyes were glassy as he observed the woman in front of him.

She assured him, "No," and pointed to the device she was using. She gave the young kid an opportunity to examine the high-speed headpiece in her palm.

Miles finally opened his mouth once more, but he remained silent. But when Doctor Palmer turned on the instrument, that’s when the boy started to cry.

Quaritch still remembers how his son immediately came over to him. He really didn’t think that Miles would get scared, but he couldn’t do anything about that anymore. The cavity wasn’t that serious, but you never know. He would occasionally whine that his tooth hurts after eating sweets, but the baby tooth will fall out really soon according to Doctor Palmer. It wasn’t bad, but Quaritch still wanted to get it fixed. He made an attempt to convince his son, but it was useless. He was adamant about not wanting to visit the dentist ever again.

As he broke his train of thought, a smile reappeared on his face as he observed the child brushing his teeth. His son exclaimed that he was finished after pausing to rinse.

Without wasting any time, he exited the bathroom and shouted that he was going to clean the wall. Quaritch began his own routine but knew that his son would soon require assistance.

Even if being Miles's father was a challenge itself, the colonel couldn't deny that he would be lost right now if it wasn’t for the young child. He wouldn't trade his current life for anything.

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ ?

Notes: I won't lie; it was difficult to write for both of them, but I genuinely wanted to turn Quartich into a soft dad. In addition, if you guys liked this, I think I'd like to write more of them.😅

[peggy-sue-reads-a-book]

I love Narnia so fucking much that I went to ordered fish and chips at the actual Bird and the Baby, but it’s gonna bother me for life that Eustace didn’t stay a dragon or even retain the abilities to shape-shift into one. That would have been righteous as fuck, like here comes this pasty dweeb to save Narnia— PSYCH it’s a motherfucking dragon.

It doesn’t fuck up the metaphor. He could have first become a dragon because he was selfish and lazy but used the irrevocable consequences of his dumbfuckery for good. He could have fucked up Tash. He could have crashed through the roof of the Tisroq’s palace, may he live forever. Dare I say it makes the metaphor better. He could set fire to the entire fleet built out of timber from murdered dryads. It would have been sick as fuck. Jill could have introduced him like “Oy, this is our mate Scrub. He’s crazy and he breaths fire.” He could have called himself the fucking Wyvern of Aslan and that could have been a whole ass 8th book.

[elixrr]

Here me out! So how about Kazuha getting reincarnated but he still remember his past life?

His past life where he has a lover (the reader) but both of them died in a tragic accident and Kazuha promise to meet them in another life.

But when Kazuha finally see them after many years of searching, his past lover doesn't remember him and the reader already have a family.

Of course he feels joy and pain. His happy to see them alive and happy with a new family, but he feels pain at the same time because his not the one by their side.

Thank you!

his love, yet left unanswered.

“ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ.” ʜᴇ ᴄʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴜꜱʜ ʜɪᴍ ᴀᴡᴀʏ. “ᴡʜᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?”

➥ kazuha x reader：angst

➥ angst / slight comfort

➥ word count：2.3k (with a twist...)

It's as he feared. Kazuha's breathed in, the cold air hitting his throat harsher than he wished it would. The stench of your corpse laid dead on the muddy grass of the garden, and each crop and flower was torn and ravaged, as though it were a personal vengeful attack on the house. Flashbacks of Tomo sprang and rang in his head the more he realizes that he had just lost someone else that he loved- yet, it was you, his love, his only one.

The trauma didn't let him hear the rustling of the grass and the squelch of the mud nearby. Tears welled in his eyes when he knelt on one knee and grasped your hand. He kissed his and your bloody, muddy ring, and he whispered a promise to you,

"We will meet again. One day, I promise to you, my maple."

"Finally, I found you." A voice calls from behind, and before Kazuha could even think to turn around, there's a thud. The mysterious person honing the mysterious voice had struck the back of Kazuha's head, and your love falls to the ground, unconscious, but still alive.

Yet, he was not granted the ability to live much longer. With a single bullet provided from the Fatui of Inazuma, he was gone.

-

But that was several years ago- close to half a century ago, as Kazuha wakes up on a comfortable bed with comfortable sheets. There is no blood; there is no mud. There is no death, and there is certainly no funeral being held for the two of you. He sighs, relieved as the nightmare has ended.

The smell of melted wax whisks near, and Kazuha sits up and turns to look towards the door. His nightstand catches his eye. A large cupcake stands by his pillows, and a notecard stands shorter by it, reading, "Happy 24th birthday, roomie!" From Tomo.

That's fun, Kazuha thinks, getting up and walking to the bathroom to start his day. It's a new day, a new year as a twenty-four year old, and a completely new life. Despite the reincarnation, he still looks around the same— just as Tomo and others like Heizou and Beidou do. He wonders if you'd still look the same, if you were also reincarnated.

He also wonders if you remember the old life, too.

Strangely, Kazuha is the only one who can remember his past life as the true Kaedehara Kazuha. Heizou is training to become a policeman, and he doesn't remember that he was a detective before. He's been recommended, though. Beidou is a pilot, and she definitely doesn't remember ever sailing the Crux. She did learn about its history, and she's definitely still a leader. Tomo isn't a swordsman; he has no current occupation, but he's been fascinated by blacksmiths. Kazuha doesn't know what to do with himself, except for the fact that he wishes to travel the world— but in current society, he would end up homeless without a job, and so he picked up a job at a local café.

In your past life, you loved your job. Would you still be who you were back then?

Kazuha spits out the watered-down toothpaste and flushes out the rest of it with water. He takes the used floss on the sink counter and throws it out, then cleans the counter. Kazuha then goes on with the rest of his morning routine with thoughts of you. He loved you then, and because he still retains memories of you, he loves you even now.

As his hair dries, Kazuha grabs his necessary belongings and goes outside, walking to the café. It's a beautiful café, too, and he smiles every time he walks into it. It's 11 AM, and he opens the café doors. There are only four customers inside, three of which ordered and received their drinks, and one of them hadn't. The three are familiar regulars, whereas the other customer looked unfamiliar, yet it's like he's known them all of his life. He ignores it and walks behind the counter, entering the backdoor.

"Kazu, you're here, finally! I just got this place opened!"

"Good morning, Yoimiya."

Yoimiya, once a girl obsessed with fireworks, is still obsessed with fireworks but now works at a café. Given that she's a familiar face, Kazuha had asked her once what she wanted to do for a living, and she told him that she'd keeping working at this café and that she'd absolutely love to work around all of Inazuma, trying to help prepare festivals and watch the fireworks.

"Oh, by the way," she interrupts his thoughts, "can you help that person over there? I've got some dishes to walk really quickly, I sorta messed up steaming the milk for someone over there, and the milk sorta got everywhere."

With a laugh, Kazuha agreed and came back to the counter. You were there, standing and on your phone, and Kazuha stopped.

"We will meet again, I promise to you, my maple."

"Hi!" Your smile shed more light than the sun itself.

"H- Hello. How may… I help you?"

With a glance at your phone, you told him what you wanted.

"Is that it—Will that be all?"

"Yeah- Oh, actually, wait. Can I have one of the café specialty snacks?"

Kazuha's smile grew. He's lovestruck again.

"Of course. Which one would you prefer?"

"You know what?" You shifted your posture, "Surprise me."

"Sure can do." Kazuha immediately took the dessert he recommended for the café to add. He remembered which ones you loved most from the past, so he taught his boss the easiest one to make and modified it specifically to your liking. On the digital register, he selected that specific dessert and gave you a discount for everything: 40% off for the employee discount.

"Aw, thank you!" Your smile grew, and you were visibly surprised. "You didn't have to do that for me."

"Of course, Y/N." I love you, after all.

"Wait- how'd you know my name?"

"Oh! I, uh, haha, I read it when you swiped your card. It appeared briefly on the register."

".. Oh, okay. That's okay. Well, I've got to ask now, what's your name?"

His smile began to dissipate. So you didn't remember, huh. He pauses momentarily, but he answers, "Kazuha."

"Well, that's a cute name. As you now know, I'm Y/N." He didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't know how to respond— he thought you would've remembered, too. Quickly and kindly, he dismisses himself from the conversation and begins to make your drink. He does it perfectly, but there's no longer that everyday chill that he carries with him. His steps are cold, as cold as you were when you died that day. His movement seem more bitter than usual, much like the reeking smell of your blood in his nose; he as a whole shutters desolate, just as desolate as the house had become when the both of you had died. Did any of that matter anymore? Everyone is the same, but everyone is different now. Same names, same personalities, different tastes, different occupations, and different lives.

So, while you're Y/N, who are you?

"Your drink is ready, and here are the pastries."

"Oh!" You nearly spring out of the chair and pace over to the counter. "Thank you!"

Your smile brightens him up, and Kazuha isn't so downcast anymore. Courage creeps up to him, and, without much thought, he asks you,

"Say, how old might you be?"

"Huh? Oh, uh… I'll be twenty-eight soon." Kazuha jumps at the statement. You? Four years older than him?

"Oh! Are you sing—" mid-thought he wonders why he asked it, "—le…?"

"Uh, are you trying to hit on me?"

"Huh! Oh, no, no, no, I'm not, I was, well, just curious." Kazuha pulls an awkward smile and a comforting chuckle. Without a word, you shake your head and reveal your left hand.

A solid glowing, silver ring on your finger.

Kazuha's blood runs cold. His heart stops momentarily. You're… Married? An unfamiliar man and a younger kid walk into the café, but he doesn't notice entirely. Kazuha has been waiting for you his whole life after he learned that everyone from before was reincarnated. He's constantly been on a journey to find you, yet, because of his household, could barely venture out of his hometown to find you. You were his set goal in life, to find you, date you, and marry you again, but he was far too late. You were already married, and—

"Hello there! How may I help you two?" Yoimiya's bounciness distracts Kazuha, and he snaps out of his thoughts. You wave at Kazuha and sit back down to enjoy your drink.

"Oh, no, it's okay. I'm here for my love." The man smiles when he looks over at you, and he and the child walk towards you. The child, contrasting Kazuha's devastation, was more than delighted to see you. Kazuha watches you, his maple, kiss the man and greet your child. It seems that, when Kazuha was twenty and you were twenty-four, you had a child with this other man, and he was trying to find you desperately. He knows he should look away, something in his gut tells him to go to the back and hide away from the pain, but he watches as you grab the pastry he's made just for you and give it to your child, the product of another marriage, the product of you and another man.

Kazuha stumbles away, subtle tears forming in his eyes. He feels guilty for wanting you when you've already found your special someone. Why didn't he forget? Why did he have to remember everything, everyone, when nobody remembered him? Why did he think that you would be different?

Kazuha walks to the back, and Yoimiya continues to wash the extra dishes added on by Kazuha. After everything, he feels so selfish and useless. He had the feeling that he should let go and live life as it is now, but he wanted to see you. He wanted the chance, but there never was one. He feels as though the past twenty-four years of his life were wasted on a lover who never knew him and never loved him. From the frame of the door, he sees your husband hand Yoimiya the plate for the pastry. Kazuha walks over to the door and watches your husband and your kid leave. You walk back to the counter. Yoimiya enters the back to take a break, and Kazuha steps out to see you out.

"Kazuha." You begin.

"Y/N." He answers.

"I remember you, y'know? I had a feeling you remembered by the way you looked at me."

"You-" Kazuha's eyes are open wide now, "you remember?"

"Yes, I do."

Kazuha's heart swells with hope. "I- do… Do you still… are you still, uh, interested... in me?" You stand still at the words, and you say nothing for a few seconds until you shift your posture again and sigh.

"I'm married to someone else now. I'm sorry, but no."

He doesn't know why, but he suddenly blurts, "Why?"

"I looked for you for a while, too. I thought that you could remember me, and yes, you do, but I could never meet you in time. In fact, I met someone else before I met you." You close your eyes to reminisce properly, "I felt so selfish for catching new feelings because I still felt married to you. But then I saw people like Kokomi, Gorou, Teppei, and even Ayato move on with their lives. I found myself in love with another before I could find you first, and seeing everyone else forget and live left me to think that you probably forgot, too. And so I went with this new life, Kazuha."

A silence stands between the two of you. The air thickens, and there's a mutual yet different guilt in your hearts. You sigh, opening your eyes, and you see the distraught look in Kazuha's eyes. It's familiar. You were married to him for almost five years before your death, so you still remember. His mouth opens to speak, and you prepare yourself for it.

"I'm… I'm sorry that I couldn’t find you first." His voice is shaky and shattered.

"That’s okay. Actually, I want you to take this day and use it to forget and live, too."

"But I can't forget you, maple."

Your breath hitches at the nickname. You haven't heard the word maple like that in almost three decades.

"Then forgive me, forgive yourself, and let go." Your voice seemingly grows impatient. "You won't forget me for now, but you'll learn to truly live without me forever."

"I…" Kazuha is at a loss for words. You understand fully, and you give him your last soft smile.

"You'll learn, I know you will. Even if we run into each other again, you'll live. Besides, I'm moving away. It hurts to stray away from us, especially considering that you still love me years after not seeing me, but you'll do it. You'll always manage, no matter what."

"Can I at least tell you that I love you one more time?" Kazuha's tears finally break out and he breaks down in front of you. Instinctively, you reach out to comfort him like you used to do before, but you stop yourself. You have a new life with your new husband and your own kid. You aren't going back now.

"Don't. Please."

"Can you… Try the dessert? At least?" Kazuha's desperate.

You sigh for the last time. "I know it's my favorite. I'll… Take one. As a final goodbye."

Kazuha nods and goes to the back to get you the pastry, yet before the back door closes, the front door opens quickly and closes, too. He turns around.

You're gone.

You've been gone for a while.

And it's about time for him to move on.

–

[hathay]

dancing with jamil lil drabble gave me the idea of dancing with sebek, im sick let me indulge, so bare with me🥰

(by the gods kasdan do NOT read this)

just imagine y’all practicing dancing for some reason, each person on their own, but sebek notices how you are so completely off at points. as one of malleus’s highly held retainer he cannot just sit by and let some human continue their pitiful dance without it being corrected. with that he’d go to you and declare he just absolutely has to teach you the correct way to do the dance, you’re simply shamefully bad at it. just,,, don’t point out how beyond whatever his words say, when he takes your hand into his, and he places his other on your waist, how red his cheeks start to grow. i would also advise against pointing out how the tips of his slightly pointed ears are growing red, as well as how he seems to be avoiding your gaze rather diligently. it’s not blush he plainly would state, he’s just embarrassed at how much you lack the ability to dance, he supposes he has no other choice but to help someone in need.

he would correct your footwork, totally NOT stumbling over his words as he gazes down at both of y’all’s feet moving together, his breath hitching as he realizes the situation he put himself in. sebek would be internally scolding himself because how could a fae such as himself become so flustered by simply teaching a human, of all people, to dance!! he only seems to blush more as this goes on, his voice raising to tell you he ISN’T BLUSHING, it’s definitely just cold where he is teaching you how to dance. then it hits him like a train all over again, he is teaching you how to dance. you are barely a foot apart, your hand resting in his, he’s practically stopped breathing due to the feeling of how perfectly your hand fits in his. your hand on his shoulder is just another reminder of the proximity of you both. his stoic attitude falters for a minute as you both lock gazes, his widening a bit at the realization that he wants to be able to be in this situation with you more, this close to you more. asking him aloud if he is alright will just cause for him to attempt to regain his composure, stepping back and claiming you will resume lessons (one’s he literally just made) to better your dancing tomorrow, after all, he doesn’t want you to wear yourself out, you don’t have his stamina he proclaims. in his flurry to leave you can’t help but notice him extend his fingers out, flexing them, then bringing them back into a ball. the feeling of your hand in his still lingering, a showcase of his guarded and up righteous self starting to unravel, and you completely at fault. though, he doesn’t seem to mind. pride and prejudice style fr

[lalalian]

magic system for your dr

date: may 9, 2024

part 1? idk we'll see

type of system

probably on the hard side, I don't think I can get toooooooooo detailed in one post about a magic system (i think)

who can use magic?

each person is either born with the ability to use magic or not. About 60% of people are able to use magic.

The 60% who can use magic are called acromatics. An acromatic is highly valued in almost all professions, including on the battlefield. Because of this, there's some discrimination between acromatics and regular humans.

An acromatic also has enhanced hearing, sight, and strength compared to an average person.

okay let's get into the magic stufffffffffff~

about magic

Magic has different hues, tones, and colors. Some provide better buffs than others, and some are rarer than others.

Red: Fire resistance, fire magic

Orange: Further enhanced strength, toughened skin & bones.

Yellow: Levitation, flight.

Green: Either healing or growth magic (particularly with plants). Often in leadership positions, good social skills.

Blue: Water magic, water breathing.

Purple: Either intelligence-based or poison-based.

Pink: Agility, flexibility, and charm.

White: Either insight (future or past, essentially a seer) or light magic.

Black: Either necromancy (sung jin woo type necromany) or shadow magic.

Brown: Earth magic relating to the ground or plants.

Colorless: Invisibility and skill copying (can copy the opponent's skills, including magic, for a certain period of time OR retained forever).

rarity:

most rare

Colorless

Black

White

Purple

Pink

Yellow

Red

Blue

Green

Orange

Brown

least rare

some other things

People with colorless magic are simply rumors; people never hear about them because they're so rare. If you're born with colorless magic, you fail the tests used to identify if you are an acromatic or not.

It's a lot rarer to be able to create something rather than use something. For example, it's a lot harder to find someone who can make water + use it on someone. It's more common to find blue acromatics that need to have a vessel of water near them to conduct spells.

I assume that there would be different schools that teach magic based on color magic.

Perhappppssss I should make a script surrounding this system... I feel like the whole magic school trope is already fulfilled through just having a harry potter though; not sure if people would be interested in another magic school dr. I’ll think about it

[y-rhywbeth2]

I had a question about Faerun magic lore, specifically in how it relates to sorcerors and wizards!

So, I know that wizards have to study their spells and memorize them EVERY time they want to cast a particular spell because once they’ve cast it, the act of using magic is basically so exhausting that they forget how to use that spell until they’ve studied it again. Whereas my understanding of sorceror is that they basically always know how to cast their spells/the knowledge of the gestures and incantations never leave their memory.

So my question is, how it work for a sorceror to multiclass into a wizard, lore wise? Because theoretically if they’re smart enough and try hard enough, anyone can become a wizard, right? So how would remembering spells work for a sorcerer who decided to actually STUDY magic and spells like wizards do? Would they need to study these spells EVERY time they wanted to cast them like wizards do, or would they be able to retain the memory of these new spells bc they have an innate ability to use magic as sorcerors?

Bc atm im kinda leaning towards the notion of sorcerors only being able to remember the spells that are like, related to their sorcery origin? Like a shadow sorceror could cast evocative spells after studying them but would have to study them for each cast but would be able to retain the memory of their necromancy spells with no issues bc their magic comes from the shadowfell and negative energy. But idk if there’s really any actual in lore basis for that

Ah, crunch vs fluff. Mechanics were never my forte, but I can give an opinion based on what I know/have interpreted from what I know. I'm not going to be surprised if Sorcerers vs Wizards: Realmslore Edition has come up in a novel somewhere that I haven't read.

I can answer this bit though:

Because theoretically if they’re smart enough and try hard enough, anyone can become a wizard, right?

No. Not in the Realms, from what I recall. On Toril the ability to use magic - the life force of the universe, apparently - is intended to be innate, even for wizards.

The core similarity in mages is the inherent ability to interact with and shape the Weave. The core difference of spellcasters in the Realms is in how they interact the Weave. Different arcane classes are using totally different paradigms to each other.

You can get the Gift from inheriting it from your family lineage, and sometimes you just pick it up like some sort of superhero origin from all the ambient magic and various shenanigans that Toril is full of. If you don't have it, no amount of studying will do anything.

(And then sometimes you don't get the full Gift from exposure to magic, not enough to be a mage, but 'one for every thousand-and-a-half' of the total population develop one or two innate magical abilities like clairvoyance, turning into a tree at will, walking on water, levitation, the ability to cast time stop, or whatever. On a similar level, wizards don't need to memorise cantrips (in 5e), they can just cast them at will.)

Wizards are mortals with the Gift, and with training learn to form pathways in the Weave through which to channel and shape magic to their will using established formula, binding them into the form of spells, and etc. Azuth is credited for a wizard's ability to learn and use spells (after Mystra, who allows them to access magic via the Weave).

Sorcerers have a scrap of something in them that isn't quite human, usually genetics/blood from something that is innately magical - dragons, fey, gods, devils, etc. Inherently magical beings. Cowards who fear the legacy of dragon-fucking have also recently added the possibility it's an exterior supernatural force that changes them. But traditionally it's because grandad was a 2000 year old 12ft tall fire-breathing magic cat-like lizard. As their powers grow it tends to change them into something more (draconic sorcerers often slowly transforming into half-dragons, for example) As far as I'm aware they learn shapes for magic to form based on a combination of instinct and trial and error and sometimes help from an older spellcaster (or maybe a dragon, or something).

While wizards need the Weave to memorise/assimilate pre-made spells, sorcerers rely on the Weave to 'recharge' spent energy. Apparently.

(According to Ed Greenwood, if the Weave - which is the gateway by which mortals can interact with magic - was forever removed then elves, dragons, sorcerers and warlocks (or rather, their patrons) would still have magic, they'd just need to relearn a whole new paradigm of existence to start using it again and find themselves to be different than they were before, in some fashion. Wizards and bards, who didn't get mentioned, are apparently out of luck in this hypothetical new post-apocalyptic world.)

Would they need to study these spells EVERY time they wanted to cast them like wizards do, or would they be able to retain the memory of these new spells bc they have an innate ability to use magic as sorcerors? Bc atm im kinda leaning towards the notion of sorcerors only being able to remember the spells that are like, related to their sorcery origin? Like a shadow sorceror could cast evocative spells after studying them but would have to study them for each cast but would be able to retain the memory of their necromancy spells with no issues bc their magic comes from the shadowfell and negative energy.

Mechanics suggest no, unless you use levelling up to change your spell list and add the wizard spells they studied, or add them when you unlock them level up. Wizardry is wizardry: Sorcery is sorcery, it seems.

Mechanically a wizard learns by memorising scrolls (studying the magic, writing it in their spellbook and then assimilating it on days when they plan to use it), a sorcerer can make and use scrolls but not memorise them (they don't know how to assimilate spells like wizards do, they just do magic).

Since a sorcerer and a wizard are engaging with the Weave in totally different ways and from entirely different starting points, I would imagine the sorcerer would need to engage in wizardry as something inherently separate from their innate abilities. Like knowing how to ride a horse isn't knowing how to drive a car, even if both forms of transport get you to your destination.

[bethanythebogwitch]

For the July 5th Wet Beast Wednesday I was going to do a 4th of July special where I would cover the "state" fish of Washington DC, the American shad. Unfortunately, the American shad is not a very interesting fish so instead I'm covering the amphiuma. It still kind of counts because they're endemic to the southeastern United States. Amphiumas are salamanders belonging to the genus of the same name. There are three extant species, the three-toed, two-toed, and one-toed amphiuma. Common nicknames for them include conger eels and Congo snakes, both of which are incorrect as they are not snakes, not eels, and not from the Congo. They are notable for their serpentine appearance and almost entirely aquatic lifestyles.

(image: a two-toed amphiuma)

Amphiumas have a very elongated, eel-like body plan. Their limbs are extremely reduced, but have not been fully lost and species can be identified by the number of toes. They live almost their entire lives underwater, though they have been seen crawling out onto land during wet weather such as rainstorms. As many live in seasonal wetlands or other places that can dry out, they have developed the ability to aestivate, a form of hibernation that happens during the summer and conserves moisture. They also secrete a thick and slippery coating of mucus that serves a number of purposes including protection of the skin, keeping the skin wet, and helping escape from predators. Amphiumas can get very large for salamanders, especially the three-toed and two-toed species, which can reach over a meter in length each. The two-toed amphiuma is the longest salamander in North America, though the hellbender still takes the record for the largest. They are primarily carnivores, feeding on small fish, snakes, turtles, amphibians, the occasional mammal, aquatic invertebrates, and occasionally plants. They seem to have a particular taste for crayfish. Interestingly, they have been seen passing up smaller crayfish to focus on larger ones, indicating they can determine when prey will be too insubstantial to be worth the effort of eating it. They can communicate with each other using clicking sounds that are only made in the presence of others.

(image: am amphiuma looking adorable)

They retain a number of juvenile traits including a lateral line. This is an organ system found in fish and amphibians that detects movement of the water and changes in water pressure. Most salamanders only have a lateral line as larvae, but the almost-fully aquatic lifestyle of the amphiuma has led to it retaining the lateral line into adulthood. Unlike some other aquatic salamanders, including the siren, axolotl, and olm, amphiumas do not retain external gills as adults, though they do retain gill arches. While they can respirate through their skin, the amount of oxygen obtained in this manner is not sufficient to keep the amphiuma alive. Amphiumas have extremely large lungs that take up about half of their body length. The group has a unique respiration cycle in which they have to exhale twice to fully empty their lungs and use a combination of mouth and nostril pressurization and smooth muscle groups in the lungs to breathe.

(image: an amphiuma with its mouth open)

Male amphiumas are usually longer and have larger heads than females. While traits like this often indicate male-to-male competition for mates, this has not been observed in amphiumas. In addition, some populations do not have this type of sexual dimorphism. Females are typically the ones to court males. Pair will coil their bodies around each other until their cloacas line up. The male will then transfer a sperm packet into the female's cloaca. Females will pick a secluded area to lay their eggs, up to 200 at a time, in a long strand. The female will coil around her eggs to protect them until they hatch. Females generally mate every other year.

(image: somebody holding an amphiuma)

Amphiumas are not dangerous to humans, though they can deliver a painful bite if disturbed. None of the species are endangered, though the one-toed amphiuma is considered near-threatened and is the leas understood of the species.

(image: a one-toed amphiuma)