#but you would think after its destroyed he would go back to normal like how ryuji is still a real bird

[haroun31]

Let me take care of you

●|Y!Phosphophyllite x gem!reader|●

●Dark theme--Obsession--Violence--Read only if you are in the right mind set

●I DO NOT CONDONE ANYTHING THAT IS WRITE IN HERE! IF YOU FIND IN A SIMILIAR SITUATION PLS SEEK HELP!!!

(This is an old one shot I wrote like two years ago but never posted, might had it on my book Hnkxreader on Quotev, need to think about it)

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How could this have happened? No wait, that was a question you already knew the answer to, the real question was why hadn't you done anything? You watched his mental health decline step by step, piece by piece. It had all started when Antarcticite had been taken away during that tiring winter but to tell the truth perhaps the nightmare had started even before then. Slowly like a virus, it first made sure to make its way among the colorful inclusions and then exploded in a catastrophe. 

"Im sorry. . .sniff. . .Im s-so sorry. . ."

What kind of friend were you? Can you really call yourself a friend? After all, you didn't do anything special, you only treated him with decency, like a normal friend, you never really got angry at him. It wasn't like you to get angry anyway. And deep down it made you a little sad to always see him all alone in the middle of the vast expanse of grass. Yes, he was certainly lively and a little awkward but you didn't really understand why the other gems felt such contempt towards the peppermint one. 

Clink. . .clank. . .tap. . .clink. . .tap. . .

Maybe you should have listened to them though. 

At a certain point everything had degenerated, you had lost Morga, Goshe, Ghost and Phos' head replaced by that of Lapis. Then the latter was captured and taken to the moon only for him to return completely changed. He no longer seemed like your old friend, he seemed more like a stranger to you. Since he returned from the moon he had become much clingier than usual, almost to the point of being suffocating, as if with every step you took he was at your side, as if every time you went on patrol you could feel his pearly white eye burning your back.

And then out of the blue he asked you to go with him to the moon. On the moon? At that moment you thought that the Lunarians had brainwashed him and this was another one of their stunts to capture you all.

You refused. 

And maybe it was a mistake. Like a switch Phos flipped from calm to panicked. He immediately tried to make you change your mind, even going so far as to beg you and you had the feeling that he would even threaten you if he didn't give in to your umpteenth no. You had seen how the Lunarians had changed Phos, you didn't want the same thing to happen to you. 

Maybe you should have been the one to convince him not to return to the moon but the truth was that you no longer saw him as the friend you knew and loved. That Phos had already been dead for some time. 

"I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry, forgive me. . .p-please, I didn't mean. . .it" 

Then he returned and the earth gems destroyed him and threw his pieces around the island. The one you had you put it under the pillow of your bed. A beautiful fragment of phosphophyllite. It reminded you of the past. But then he was rebuilt by someone and managed to escape. You had an idea who the culprit might have been but revealing it wouldn't change anything. 

You never saw him again until that fateful day. A festive day that should have been reserved for nothing but joy and fun. How ironic. All of you were unaware that the gateway to hell would open that night. Especially, for some reasons. For you. 

Thousands of sunspots appeared in the sky covering it with spots, then from the central one your old friends appeared and in the center of them a gem you had never seen. Gem was a kind description, he was more like a demon, devil, monster, call it what you want but that thing had no right to bear the same name as your lovely innocent old friend. 

It was a complete massacre. Most were exterminated by Alex. You had been spared from his fury only because Benito had beheaded him, now only you and Euclase remained in that room. Phos approached you two, almost gleefully stomping on all the fragments. Euclase tried to talk to him but was mercilessly beheaded before being tossed aside like an old doll. 

Now only you were left.

And you knew damn well that you couldn't do shit against him. Because fuck, at the end he was still your damn fucking friend and you cant hurt him. You already did it when you left him. So you didn't mind that much if he destroyed you. It would have been a bit like the pay for not having tried harder to save him. 

So you dropped your sword as his blade cut you in two and you lost consciousness. 

The story should have ended here right? 

"I-I. . .I just wanted everyone to love m-me. . .Im sorry please. . .you are the only one who cares about me. . .im sorry, im sorry, why did I do that?"

So imagine your surprise when you regained consciousness and the school ceiling welcomed you. You weren't fully adjusted yet, you couldn't feel your legs, a portion of your left arm and your head. Trembling hands completed what was the puzzle of your body, feeling that more and more consciousness and memories resurfaced in your mind. Did Sensei manage to calm down Phos? Did Cinnabar or Jade defeat him? 

Yet a long goopy golden string inserting your missed eye was enough to make your non-existent heart stop. Hadn't they made it? Or did Phos had a change of heart? You could hear his incomprehensible, nonsensical muttering in the background with the words he repeated the most being sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry and sorry.

He was sorry.

"Phos?" your voice was uncertain and his muttering stopped when he heard it. Suddenly the gem, demon appeared in your vision. He hadn't changed, still half destroyed with alloy spikes protruding from his neck and back. That pearly white eye stared at you with such intensity that if you had the strength you would have shuddered. From it flowed uninterrupted tears of gold that fell onto your face before sliding down and mixing with some other pool of alloy. 

He was crying.

"____. . .Im sorry! Im sorry for destroying you! I shouldnt have done it! Im sorry, im sorry, please dont be mad at me! You are the only one who was kind to me! You dont deserve this treatment please, please, please, please." he begged with an exasperated tone as his alloy coiled around you like a snake and continued to rebuild you. 

Feeling that your right arm and abdomen were solid enough you slowly sat up looking around "Phos...what happened?" All around you you could see shards of gems littering the floor. Not bodies, just fragments. As if someone had bothered to chop them all up. At the sight of such a massacre you felt like you were about to self-destruct, a small crack had already formed on your cheek and immediately Phos took your face in his hands and brought it back towards his so that you could no longer see anything. 

God, you didn't know which view was worse. The shredded remains of your friends or the demon that took over your old friend's body. 

His touch was too sweet for a monster like him and with a little powder he covered the crack "I crushed everyone"

You could perfectly see it.

"A-And Sensei?"

"I destroyed him too" he responded coldly, a rather frightening contrast to the state he was in initially. He went too quickly from one emotion to another. "What about the Lunarians?" you continued trying to look around but not being able since Phos still has a tigh grip on your face "Aechema had arrived. . .he wanted the eye of Adamant. I gave it to him and told him to leave me alone. I have no idea what they'll do now. The Lunarians who were here. . ." a dark look covered his face and the white eye almost seemed to light up ". . .they're gone dont worry."

You were worried but not for that. Why was Phos rebuilding you? Has he finally achieved his goal? He wanted to destroy Sensei right? So now he will rebuild everyone and then. . .and then you'll finally sort out this whole thing, right? "We will rebuild the others right? You're rebuilding me so the others will come back too?” You asked as his attention shifted to your broken arm. 

"The others. . ." he began, his tone was cold as inverse and it was as if a veil had fallen over his white eye as if he was getting lost in thought "They never cared about me" suddenly his grip on your arm tightened chipping the surface, his expression dark and totally no longer present in this plane of reality "No. . .they don't deserve to come back. . ." you winced at the force trying to wriggle your arm out of his grasp ". . .I wont let them-"

CRACK!

"Ouch fuck!"

You cursed holding your broken arm, fragments of the gems you were made of fallen down reflecting the sunlight. "Oh. . .oops" Phos said completely emotionless looking at the piece of your arm in his hands before trying to take your broken part and even if you tryed to back away it was no use because his alloy held you in place while he worked on fixing you. 

First he was desperate, then he was acting chill and now it was like he was emotionless?! He was such a fucking mess! A ticking bomb ready to detonate at the first mistake. You could have wriggled, screamed, rebelled but looking at the situation you were in, it wasn't as if Phos was hurting you himself, on the contrary, so you decided to let him do it. 

You will pulverized his face in the future.

Plus it seemed like taking care of you calmed him down and made him happy. His touch was loving and delicate as if he was touching the most fragile gem in the world. You just couldn't understand what was going through his mind, this was no longer Phos, but a demon with his appearance. 

Inserting piece after piece he continued his work as you watched him in silence continuing to ask yourself questions that will never be answered. Of course the most common one was, what will happen now? What does the demon in front of you plan? 

Cling, Clang, Tap, Cling, Cling

Inserting the last piece of your right arm you stretched your hand before your eyes examining the beautiful work done, your pupils then dropped to your legs, still broken, and then moved to Phos. At his side were the rest of your legs already rebuilt, all you had to do was attach them. You looked at them and then looked at Phos expecting him to finish the job or at least pass them to you. 

But his white eye simply watched you, his body giving no sign of moving. "Your uniform is destroyed" he pointed out which made you look down at it. It actually wasn't in good shape at all, in fact, it looked like you were wearing rags instead of a uniform. Kneeling at your side the demon picked you up almost abruptly making you let out a gasp at the sudden movement.

"Phos!? Wha? My legs! What about them!?" you shouted at him as you felt the alloy wrap around your body "Phosphophyllite! Give me my fucking legs! Come on!" you exclaimed again noticing how the gem had ignored you. Phos continued his advance towards where Red Beryl's laboratory was without sparing you a glance. Not wanting to play his game anymore you tried to squirm trying to free yourself from his suffocating grip but all you got was the alloy becoming more aggressive to the point of tying your wrists behind your back.

"Oi Phos! What the fuck are you doing!? Answer me damn it!"

"Let me take care of you"

That was all he said to you before entering the laboratory and taking the first clean uniform he could find then he tried to make you wear it having had a lot of difficulty in his attempt as you continued to struggle repeating that you wanted answers. That wasn't an answer! You wanted to know what was going on! Why you were the only one that Phos was rebuilding, why the others were practically reduced to dust, why he didn't want to give you your legs back! Why?! 

After your umpteenth struggle, Phos' patience was wearing thin and he swiftly twisted his alloy around your arms, pinning you practically on top of the table you were sitting on and brought his face within inches of yours. "If you don't stop I'll break your arms too. I don't care. I just need you to be conscious. Understood?" his tone was cold and his eye was empty like a doll's. 

You nodded.

"Good"

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That night Phos cried.

He cried like a baby, hugging you as he continued to tell you how sorry he was for threatening you and that it will never happen again. You didn't believed the last part. He was too unstable, the fact that he was back in his desperate phase was more than enough proof of that. For the moment you had identified 4 main phases that he tended to take on during the day, the desperate, the emotionless, the furious and the calm. The last one was your favorite. It was the only moment he was willing to answer any of your question.

The next few days were hard for you. You hated from the bottom of your soul that you couldn't do anything. Any proposal you made to reconstruct the other gems was immediately shot down and 90% of the time his mood immediately transitioned into the furious phase. Same thing if you tried to rebuild them yourself. With difficulty you dragged yourself towards them trying to sort through the thousand very small fragments. 

Punctually Phos had caught you in the act and was so angry that he grabbed your arm and broke it. He didn't give it back to you until the next day when with a loving touch he reattached it to you and then burst into tears again at the sight of your visible fractures. It was always so tiring to deal with hid mood swing. Walking on eggshell. It was not fun. And you still didn't understand why you were brought back, why only you? 

"You were kind to me, you are kind to me. My friend, my only friend. I don't want the same thing that happened to Antarc to happen to you too. I cant let it happens"

Why then not bringing the others back?

"You never know who might betray you. They destroyed me without even hearing what I had to say. . .I won't let anyone hurt you. Let me take care of you"

Which translated meant, I don't want to suffer anymore, I want to be loved even if it's just an illusion. And the only person he knew who could love him was you. 

And despite all those swing moods, despite the demon that inhabits your old friend, you wanted to help him. You felt like a fool everytime you felt pity for him, he was liyerhelding you captive! It's not fair. It's not fair how that monster uses his appearance to deceive you because he knows you're desperate enough to believe that old Phos is still there somewhere. So when he cries you console him and he absorbs that affection you give him as if it were lifeblood, desperate for more affection. Something he hasnt got in so long.

He loves taking care of you. Heal your wounds. Help you get from one place to another. Hold you in his arms. It makes him feel like he's finally useful in something, like he's no longer the pathetic old bumbling gem. It makes him feel good. Because this way he can blame his old self if Antarc had been captured, that if he had been as strong as he is now nothing bad would have happened. 

After the news that the white gem could no longer be returned, Phos no longer wanted to risk it. He didn't want to lose you too. Even though you hadn't wanted to follow him to the moon, you had always been his friend, you had treated him with so much kindness that perhaps not even Sensei had ever treated him that way. You were funny, strong, kind even if you tended to curse a little too much. 

So he was happy to be able to solve your problems. Too bad he was the one who created them. Sure he felt extremely guilty if he broke your arm but then the feeling of fixing you was too intoxicating that he simply forgot. It was so much intoxicating that sometimes he wanted to break you on purpose just to rebuild you. But of course he never did. He loved you too much. He could not. 

"I will protect you"

"From who that the only danger here is you"

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Sometimes you wondered how the gems were doing on the moon. Had they already achieved nothinghess? Were they and the Lunarians already gone? Had they abandoned you? 

But then you saw some sun spots in the sky and your non-existent heart beat faster at the idea that perhaps they would come to save you. To tell you the truth, you wouldn't have cared if they took you away but you wanted your friends to be able to be rebuilt. Obviously, however, Phos destroyed them before they could do anything. 

The only chance you had to save your friends was to take their fragments away from the school and place them in plain sight so that the Lunarians would see them and, once Phos was no longer present, take them. You were aware that you didn't know if they would actually rebuild them but it was the only way to save them. Phos kept controlling you so you couldn't. 

The demon didn't ask questions when you took a bag full of gems with you on your walks. He didnt wondered about it when you asked him to take you away from school and while he watched you scatter the fragments. He thought you couldn't stand to see the remains of your old friends anymore and he understood that. 

He had been thinking about throwing them into the sea for some time but that was fine too.

He didnt care.

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After a few years Phos decided to give you your legs back and you couldn't be more than happy. 

You finally no longer had to rely on Phos to get from one place to another. Not that you can go very far now anyway, in the end you lived on an island. Where would you have fled? In water? 

"Are you happy?"

Phos asked you wrapping his arms around you looking at you with his heterochromatic eyes. After a few years of searching he had managed to find the remains of the fragments of Lapis's head and fix it. "Im happy" he continued in a cheerful tone "I always wanted happiness and I received it with you. Only with you." closing his eyes he put his head in the crooks of your neck, a thin blanket separated you two so that you could destroy each other. 

"I love you" a lil kiss was planted on your cheek that cracked together with his lips.

You loved Phos too.

But this wasn't your adorable old friend but a demon in his guise. 

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[fuzzbuns]

Happy birthday kazuaki ig. I kept thinking about him reading the velveteen rabbit and having an awful time lol

[stormhearty]

Pushed to the Edge

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Trigger: angst, cheating, suicide, death

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You were the official seer of Night Court for nearly 500 years. the Inner Circle had always listened to you and your visions; however, when the Archeron sisters came and Elain started to show her powers, your family started to shift their attention to her visions. When you try to voice your warnings about the death-lord’s resurrection, everyone gave you the cold shoulder, ignoring your prophesies — this included your mate.

Note: no hate to Azriel or Elain, it just helped with the plot. and Also, I know it's completely unreasonable for Azriel to not have the Truth-Teller be with him at all times, just go with it for now. And I am working on “Reach Your Voice” Series, I’m still trying to figure out how to make sure each of our boys spends quality time with the reader.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist

“That sounds absolutely absurd… How many times will you try to warn about something that will never happen?”

Your voiced died in your throat as you watched Rhysand look at you with apprehension before focusing on the paperwork in front of him.

You had ran into his office, waking up in cold sweat after another vision of another Death God crawling it’s way back into Prythian. You had tried to forewarn your High Lord for weeks on end ever since you first saw that vision. However, your warnings had been ignored by Rhysand. You knew that it sounded impossible, you knew that, Prythian had just finished a war — one that almost destroyed the world.

After the war with the King of Hybern, Prythian was slowly returning to its normal … well, attempting to fix what was broken by the King. The Night Court was healing, trying to rebuild itself again to its glory, helping other Courts to fix the damages that the war caused. Rhysand had been through an ordeal, losing his life to save Prythian and you knew that your High Lord was still recuperating from that tragedy. You knew that your High Lady was as well, almost losing her mate.

They didn’t need another war to happen when peace had barely returned.

But you also knew there was another reason your High Lord had been ignoring your for forewarning. You looked to the side, one where the rest of the Inner Circle was watching the confrontation. Cassian and Nesta, sitting close to each other, a glass of wine in their hands, whispering to each other, mostly likely about you and your vision. You could barely pick up with your keen Fae hearing on what they were saying.

“Do you think what she’s saying is real? That Koschei is trying to come back?”

“Elain hasn’t seen it though…”

The whisper of the middle Archeron child echoed in your ears as you looked at the Made Fae. She sat next to the window, brown eyes that seemed to sparkle like the sun rested on you before turning over to the male that she was sitting with. Your gaze followed hers to Azriel — your mate— but you can see that he didn’t bother to glance in your direction, only to focus on the delicate female next to him.

It hurt. You watched as the two of them conversed, glancing back in your direction before focusing on each other.

It was no secret, not for you, on Elain’s growing infatuation for the Shadowsinger, and in turn his own growing affections for the middle Archeron child — and in turn, losing his love for you.

You woke up in an empty bed, your mate missing from his side. You tried to talk to Cassian about how his day went, on if he would still train you with the Valkyries if he had time. You tried to converse with Rhysand and Feyre, seeing if they were healing properly after the war, wanting to make sure your High Lord and Lady were safe. You sought after you mate, wanting to spend even a second with him.

But they disregarded you so easily. Especially after they had found out that Elain had similar powers to you, one that was gifted to her by the Cauldron — one that was deemed more powerful than your own.

Your role as the Official Seer of Night Court was granted to you after Helion had sent you as an emissary for Day Court. Helion had found you wandering around Day Court lands. You had been a wandering child, with no real attachment to any Court, abandoned in the streets by your family at the age of five when your seer powers started to come into light. Helion had taken you in when you were ten, helped you hone your powers. Being a seer had been a mystery, no one in your heritage (that you were aware of) was a seer. And it baffled Helion on why such a remarkable gift had been casted aside.

You had stayed with the Night Court, gaining their trust and friendship for five centuries, gaining your own little foothold in their family. You had been a pillar when Rhysand had been trapped Under the Mountain for nearly fifty years. You helped Mor and Armen with the official Night Court Duties, trained with Cassian to ensure you were strong enough to fight when neither he nor Azriel was there.

During your time protecting Valeris from the eyes of Amarantha, your mating bond with the Shadowsinger snapped. It had been difficult at the start, both of you were still struggling with the disappearance of your High Lord, along with the weight of protecting the very city he hidden from view. But during that time, you became each other’s pillar, each other’s comfort in such a dark time. Falling in love with Azriel wasn’t difficult.

But keeping his love, apparently, was the most difficult.

When the Archeron sister’s came into everyone’s lives, it caused a tip in the scales. You loved Feyre, you loved your High Lady. You would do anything in your power to ensure she was safe and well cared for. But for the Cauldron-Made sisters, it was difficult for you to accept them.

They were different. You couldn’t see anything about them, as if the Cauldron had masked them from you powers. It made you terrified of them. Feyre and Rhysand had tried to assure you that the Archeron sisters deemed no threat to the Night Court. And you trusted them — trusted your High Lord and Lady without a blink of an eye. And yes, while their words deemed true, you did not realize that they were a different type of threat. One that would eventually lose your foothold in the Night Court.

You swallowed, your throat parched as you glanced from the sight of your mate and Elain speaking to one another to Rhysand and then to Feyre who had stood next to him. She gave you a worried look, wondering what you were wanting to tell them.

The air was tense, the declaration from your High Lord seeming to echo in your surroundings — he had deemed your vision to be false. And he had never done that before.

“… But…” you whispered, your voice nothing but wind in such a large room, “… I’ve seen it so many times, Rhys. Someone is trying to resurrect him. That they need a piece of something from the Cauldron — -”

“The Cauldron is with Miryam and Drakon… in Creta. There is no way that anyone would be able to use that power again,” Rhysand’s tone was taut, as if trying to drawn a line between the truth and your vision, “Your vision must be wrong, (Y/N). There is no way that Koschei can be resurrected from that lake.”

Another swallow, “But what if it doesn’t have to be the Cauldron itself. It could be something that was Made from the Cauldron.”

Rhysand’s eyes snapped up from his desk, up to you, eyes darkening at the words you were insinuating, “—- What are you trying to say, (Y/N)?”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes shifting down to your hands, fiddling with your fingernails — a habit that you’ve had ever since you were a child — one that would leave your hands raw from removing skin, ‘… Nesta and Elain were Made from the Cauldron. If it were to get word to the followers of Koschei, they… they could be in danger. The power that resides in them is the Cauldron… Nesta took something from the Cauldron and did not return it… They could be looking for that.”

It was already bad that you were trying to suggest a return of a Death God, months after a war with Hybern, but it was worse that you were even implying that the sisters were the center of being in danger again.

A dark shadow stood in front of you and you looked up to see Azriel. The golden string that connected the two of you sung, it had been weeks since Azriel went near you, but you knew that his side of the bond was shut, enshroud by shadows, completely shutting you out.

“Az—-” you said his name, as if it was a prayer, hoping he’d be the voice of reason. That he would back up you and your visions. As he always had in the past.

“How can we know that your visions are truth, (Y/N)? There are two Seers in the Night Court now, and yet you are the only one who sees this.”

Your ears rang, a high pitch noise echoing through them as disbelief shook your body. Azriel never distrusted you, never doubted your visions and your forewarnings.

The bond in you ached, as if it was burning you on the inside. Tears lined your eyes as you looked up at your mate, brows furrowing, “…How could you, Azriel?” you muttered, the pain lining your tone, “How can you not trust me?” your voice small.

“Because Elain hasn’t seen it,” was all he had to say.

Hot tears ran your cheeks, as you shakily stepped back from the male that had towered you. You glanced at Cassian and Nesta who looked at you, their eyes inattentive to the pain that you were feeling. You glanced at your High Lord, who looked at you with disinterest. You looked at your High Lady, the only person in the room that seemed to have noticed your pain and anguish, as she took a step towards you way, only to be stopped by Rhysand, his hand around her wrist.

“… So, just because the Cauldron-Made Seer hasn’t seen it, doesn’t mean that it is going to happen?” you asked, your question in the air for everyone to think, “… Just because I wasn’t a Seer Made by the Cauldron, that my visions and my words are not real? That I am a lesser of a Seer than her?”

“(Y/N)—-” Feyre, the voice of reason, called our your name.

You took a step back again, head shaking at them, “I’ve worked my life off for the Night Court. Ensuring that your city is safe, making sure that any danger would never step past the wards that you have put up. I have never hidden anything from any of you. I used my visions and my powers for all of you. And yet…” your voice shook at the end, not believing anything that was happening in front of you, “You disregard me… the moment a better Seer shows up. One that is Cauldron-Made… one that you…” eyes shifting to Azriel, “Deems more suitable for you.

“I’ve seen it. Not only in my visions but here with you all. You have decided to all turn a blind eye to it, decided not to tell me about it. Three sisters for three brothers, isn’t it, Azriel?”

Azriel’s form stiffed in front of you — he did not think that you would have heard that.

You were done, you were tired. You were tired of the lies and the deceit from whom you thought were family.

Feyre’s brows furrowed as she looked at you and then her elder sisters before the back of Azriel. Rhysand stood up as well, standing next to his High Lady at your declaration.

“… What are you talking about, (Y/N)?” Feyre asked, watching your form shake.

“Don’t you lie to me…” you muttered, glaring at your High Lady, “Don’t you dare lie that you have not seen it. Don’t you dare tell me that you have not noticed that Azriel and Elain have been together all this time. That you have turned a blind eye that a mated male would be infatuated, would fall in love with someone else that was not his Cauldron-bound mate. Don’t you dare lie to me you have not all seen it, and have ignored it and not tell me about it.

“You also have all disregarded me and my visions, ever since Elain started to show her own powers. You have all deemed, even without you telling me, that my powers are not worthy enough. That you all would listen to her cryptic visions rather than my own.”

Your words were rushed, you were hyperventilating to the point that your visions swam, but you shook your head, focusing on the scene unfolding — Feyre’s surprised look, Nesta and Cassian staring wide-eye at Elain before glancing at the Shadowsinger in front of you and your High Lord gripping the edge of the table, his violet eyes clearing as if he was in a trance, as if his mind has been cleared and he realized what he has done and what was unfolding with his family.

“No, (Y/N), that’s not what we meant…” he tried to reason, try to gain back your trust in the found family you had with them.

You scrunched your face, shaking your head as you looked at your High Lord before back at your mate, “…That’s what you have meant for the months you have been ignoring my forewarnings. Been ignoring me. Because Elain’s powers are better than mine, you have casted me aside…” Another step back, glancing at the grand door behind you before you glanced back at the family who had lost you, to the mate that had broken your entire being, “You had decided, to your own conscious, to fall in love with someone else, who is bound to someone else, just because you deemed that the Cauldron was wrong. I don’t understand what I have done to you, Azriel… when I have spent nearly five-hundred years with you, fifty years with you as your mate. And you, knowing Elain for a mere five minutes, throwing all that away…”

Azriel looked at you, his chest rising and falling quickly, his eyes staring you down. He watched as tears continued to flood down your cheeks, your form shaking even further. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t just stand here and be the object that they throw away.

So, you ran, ran out of that room, your name echoing behind you as your dress swirled behind you. You climbed up the spiraling stairs to your shared room with Azriel, throwing up the strongest ward you can muster behind you and around you. You couldn’t handle it.

You couldn’t handle the echo of the bond in your chest, you couldn’t handle the empty stare of your mated looking at you. You couldn’t handle the thought that you were so easily replaceable. A sob escaped your lips as you rummaged through Azriel’s drawer of weapons, pulling out the one weapon that he never is without — Truth-Teller. Dark tendrils of shadow gripped your wrist as you looked around you, Azriel’s shadows surrounding you.

That was where his shadows went — they had always disappeared when he was around Elain, yet they were here with you.

Frantic knocks startled you as you grasped the weapon close to your chest, your head whipping around towards the door. You heard them — Feyre’s panicked voice, Rhysand’s apologizes, Cassian yelling your name. But you didn’t hear that one voice that you had loved — you knew Azriel wasn’t there.

That had pushed you. Gripping the weapon, you moved to the bathroom, the shadows following your every movement. As you kneeled down on the marble floor, you felt the tug of the shadows against your hand, trying to will the weapon out of your grip — attempting you to stop at a take of your life.

You had always loved the shadows that surrounded Azriel, both physically and metaphorically speaking. They had always comforted you, protected you, always had been there for both of you when times were tough. But this was one of the times that you didn’t want them protecting you, comforting you.

“Please..” you begged at them. Whether or not they would listen or sprint off to their master, they backed off, though a few tendrils stayed behind, slithering around your wrist, holding Truth-Teller, as if a reminder not to do it. But you had made your mind — you couldn’t stay and be pushed to the side. Not anymore.

And with a last breath impaled yourself with your mate’s beloved knife, the very knife he had handed Elain during the war, was the last thing you remembered. As your body fell against the marbled floor, your soul leaving your body, you felt the tendrils of shadow frantically skim over your body, as if to try to find a piece of life still clinging onto you. Eyes looked and watched as the ward was broken and your High Lord and Lady skidding towards your body as your soul left for the skies above, the cool feeling of shadow never leaving your body.

A gasp escaped your lips, the dull ache on your chest making you rub at it.

“— - What…” you mumbled, your voice hoarse as if not used for a century.

“That Shadowsinger did not know what he had decided to let go, huh…” A voice, one so dark and so familiar echoing.

You knew that voice, that voice that haunted you in your visions for weeks — the same voice that you tried to warn your family about. Eyes opening, you were surrounded by the dark, the voice of the Death-God echoing around you.

“I should have died…” you voiced to no-one.

A laugh echoed around you, “You did, (Y/N), but you forget that I am a Death-God… And I can resurrect anyone I wish. Now, that your family has abandoned you, why don’t you join me. Show them what happens when a Seer of your capacity has been cast aside. I should have had you when that original family of yours stranded you, but that damn High Lord of Day found you first. Anyway… come child…”

You laid there, in the darkness, before you shakily reach out a hand, before spiny fingers grasped onto yours and pulled you out of that darkness.

[shanastoryteller]

SHANA HAVE YOU SEEN ARCANE? IF NOT GO DO THAT AND JOIN ME IN MY INSANITY WITH JAYVIK. Otherwise its dealers choice and some happy valentines chocolates for you 💕💋

Castiel has gone rogue, has torn down the wall keeping the cage at bay, and Dean is going to have to face him alone if Sam can’t figure out how to get out of his own head.

Absorbing the memories of what he’d done when he’d been soulless had hurt. To know that any version of him was capable of that kind of callousness, of the kind of ruthless efficiency he’d always turned up his nose at, was a blow.

But absorbing the memories of the cage may very well kill him. Everyone seems to expect it to, if it doesn’t drive him outright insane. It’s likely the most he can hope for is that it leaves him cationic, that he stays in this safe little place in his mind that Lucifer can’t touch and leave the rest of the world to rot. He already destroyed himself to save it once, why should he have to go through that again?

For the same reason he did it the first time.

The world still has Dean in it. He can’t leave his brother to suffer if there’s anything he can do about it.

When he finds across the version of himself that knows the cage, he has to clamp down on the urge to tremble. He’s standing there, half hidden in shadow, leaning against the wall like he can’t hold up his own weight.

He’s covered head to toe in blood.

“Hey,” he says then swallows. Soulless had been aggressive, had been angry, hadn’t hesitated to engage with him. Cage seems like he can barely keep breathing.

It’ll make him easy to kill, easy to reintegrate, but he doesn’t know what that will leave him as when he’s done.

Just killing the guy after everything he’s been though doesn’t seem right. He licks his lips. “Look, I don’t know how aware you are of everything that’s going on, but I – we – I mean.” He swallows. “Dean’s in trouble and I can’t help him without remembering. Everything. And I know I’m not strong enough to deal with everything you’ve delt with-”

“Why do you say that?”

Sam startled. Cage’s voice is raspy, but not weak. There’s no fear, no tears, just simple curiosity. “I – what?”

“Why do you say that?” Cage repeats.

“I,” he thinks back on Soulless’s memories, of how he’d been on board with getting his soul back up until he’d found out what it would do to him, of how they’d described the tattered remains of who he used to be. “They said it would destroy me. You don’t – you don’t look to be in great shape.”

Cage shrugs. “People have always underestimated us, Sam. You know that. They didn’t think we’d be able to take control of Lucifer and we did that.”

“What?” he laughs incredulously. “It was just a hunky dory time in there with Lucifer? You look like shit.”

“And you think Lucifer did this to us?” Cage smiles, Sam can see the white of his teeth against his blood covered face. It should be disturbing, a sign of a cracked mind, a cracked soul, but it just looks like a normal smile. “You know us. You know us better than I do at this point. When have we ever stopped fighting?”

“We fought the devil,” he says flatly. “In the cage.”

“Do you know what powers angel’s grace? Demon’s abilities?” he asks.

Sam shakes his head.

“Human souls,” he says. “It’s the greatest source of power on any of the three planes. And if you know Enochian, you can harness that same power. It took a while, but eventually we learned.” He tilts his head to the side. “I won’t lie, Sam. Lucifer put us through things that no person should experience, a type of hell that broke us more than once. But we were in that cage a long, long time. Souls heal. Grace disconnected from heaven just runs out. I’m thankful to be out, but given a few more centuries, well. Lucifer wouldn’t just be in the cage. He’d be gone.”

Sam doesn’t understand, doesn’t believe it. “So you used your own soul to fight the devil? With the angel’s language? That’s–”

“What did we have to lose?” Cage interrupts. “Michael and Lucifer distracted each other occasionally, and Michael keeps Adam unaware. All we had was fighting and surviving. If we could kill Lucifer for good, what did it matter what state it left our soul in?”

“Then why hide?” he challenges. “Death and Castiel put you away. Why hide even now? If it’s not that bad, why let yourself be walled away?”

“It is that bad,” Cage says softly. “You’re just that strong.”

Sam swallows.

He used to believe that about himself.

“I’ve spent centuries in the cage,” he says. “Some days I barely remember life on Earth. I’ve changed. I had no reason not to.” He looks away for the first time. “I did it for Dean. I never forgot that. And Dean got me out, he saved me, but,” he meets Sam’s eyes. “I remember what it was like to have Dean look at me like he didn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to go through that again. You, he knew. You, he recognized. I thought it was better. You didn’t need the person you became in the cage once we were out of it and I wanted,” he cuts himself off again.

It's okay.

Sam knows.

“You wanted to be someone Dean would be willing to sell his soul for,” Sam says.

He’d never wanted what Dean did, but he’s always felt crushed under the weight of being worthy of it, of the loss and fear when he felt he wasn’t. It’s such a fucked up metric to measure love against, if someone would be willing to go to hell for you, but Dean’s the one who set it. He’s just following suit.

He’d do anything for Dean.

“Dean needs our help,” Sam says. “Castiel-”

“I know,” Cage says. “Even a juiced up Cas isn’t Lucifer. We’ll be able to take care of him. You need to know what I know and there’s no way to teach you Enochian without everything you had to go through to learn it. I’m sorry.”

“We’ve got a year of fresh memories,” he says. “A year of our life on earth front and center. It’ll help. They won’t feel so far away from us after.”

Dean will still love them after.

“You hope,” Cage scoffs.

Sam smiles and lifts a shoulder in a half shrug. “Yeah. It’s all we’ve ever had, right?”

Cage smiles again, pushing off the wall to stumble forward. Sam catches him when his knees buckle, looking into his own face, his own eyes. They are different. But not unfamiliar.

Souls heal. Whatever Lucifer did to him, whatever he did to himself in there, it’s not irreversible. There’s a difference between scarred and bleeding.

“You’re going to be okay,” Cage says, offering him a knife that Sam hadn’t even noticed him carrying. “You can do this.”

Sam swallows, giving a nod before taking the hilt and plunging it into Cage’s chest. He holds him through it, hearing the wet gasp against his hear. “Yes,” he says softly. “We can.”

When he opens his eyes in the panic room, all versions of him settled into one, into just Sam, he doesn’t waste time mourning the people he used to be.

Dean needs him.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Have Faith In Me - GF!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1

I said I'd never let you go, and I never did. I said I'd never let you fall, and I always meant it.

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: After leaving Woodsboro for a fresh start, you’re shaken up when Ghostface resurfaces. Little did you know, the person you were in love with is a part of it.

Contains: Oral - f receiving, p in v, unprotected sex(pulling out thooo), angst at the end💁🏼‍♀️

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I NEEDED to write another Ghostface Ethan fic. And then I realized I don’t have a series yet where he’s the bad guy, so here ya go💕Also, still working on Creep part 2 even though its been a while(I think I made it a little too much lmao).

You were never supposed to know that Ethan had a part in why people were being murdered, at least not yet. He was disappointed in himself for being so careless, so stupid. His thoughts were racing as he tried to think of anything he could say to you to make you want to keep quiet. He knew his dad and sister would be furious if their plan was destroyed because of Ethan’s negligence, but he was more worried about your safety, which he’d already begged his family for.

It started off as a normal day. Well, not really. After two students and a professor were killed close to campus, your morning classes had been cancelled for the day. With the recent killings, you didn’t want to be alone. You called Ethan, your boyfriend’s groggy voice making you smile once he answered.

“Were you still sleeping?” you asked, as he yawned.

“Classes are cancelled. What else am I supposed to do?” he asked, as you giggled. “Wait, what are you doing today? Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah, I was going to call Tara, but I know she’s probably exhausted from being questioned all night,” you said, as he dramatically scoffed at your words.

“So I was the second person you wanted to call,” he said, the fake annoyance in his voice making you roll your eyes. “You should come to my dorm. We can cuddle, watch movies, and Chad’s not here so we can do some other stuff, too.”

“I can’t believe you’re suggesting sex when there’s someone out here killing people. That’s one of the first rules, don’t have sex,” you said, as Ethan started to chuckle.

“Okay, Mindy,” he teased, “You sounded just like her for a second.”

“Hey, I want to live, and I want you to live, too,” you said, as you slid your shoes on your feet. “I’m leaving now, I’ll be at your dorm soon.”

Your dorm was only one building away from Ethan’s, so the walk was very short, and the sun was shining, but you were still nervous as you walked a little faster to get to his dorm, just in case. You’d had previous encounters with Ghostface in Woodsboro, and after Judy was killed right in front of her house in the middle of the day, you felt like you could never be too careful.

When you made it to Ethan’s dorm, you knocked before the door opened, a sleepy smile on his face as he stepped to the side to let you come in. He was shirtless, his flannel pajamas hanging lowly on his hips. You bit your lip for a second as you checked him out, before he cleared his throat.

Your eyes snapped from his abs to his face, his lips twisted into a smirk as you felt your blush spread across your cheeks.

"You checking me out?" he teased as he walked over to you, his hand going underneath your chin to tilt your head up before he leaned down to kiss you.

"Mhm," you mumbled into the kiss. He stood there, his lips on yours for a minute before he pulled away.

He sat on his bed, making grabby hands at you as you sat down beside him. When he laid back to relax his head on the pillows, you moved with him, your head resting on his chest as your legs tangled with his.

"Do you want to talk about what's going on? With the Ghostface stuff?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. "I know this must be scarier for you than it is for me."

You sighed as his hand ran over your hip, thinking about how terrifying everything was in Woodsboro the year before. You were trying so hard to not think too much into it, because you were sure you survived last time out of pure luck, and the odds of you making it out unscathed again wasn't very likely.

You didn't even know your eyes were watering until the tears trickled, running over your cheekbone before they made it to Ethan's bare chest.

"Hey, are you okay?" Ethan asked, as you sat up and placed your face in your hands. He sat up, too, pulling your hands away so he could see you. Guilt for what he and his family had done and everything they still had to do punched him in the chest once he saw your panicked, red eyes, and your bottom lip quivering. "I won't let anything happen to you, baby."

"I just can't believe this is happening. We thought leaving Woodsboro meant we would never have to deal with this again," you said, your voice shaking as Ethan offered a sympathetic smile. "When I tried to sleep last night, all I could see behind my eyelids was Sam's psycho boyfriend running at me with his knife."

Ethan shook his head, trying to remain calm. He knew Richie tried to kill you that night before he met you, because he read all the police reports and files his dad got after everything happened. At first, you were supposed to be just another body that was going to drop before the Kirsch family fled the country. At least, that was the plan before Ethan fell in love with you.

"I promise you, you're going to be okay. I won't let anything happen to you," he said, a small sob slipping past your lips.

"You can't promise that nothing will happen to me, Ethan," you said, wiping the tears off your cheeks. "Just like I can't promise that nothing will happen to you."

Ethan pulled you close to him before he kissed the top of your head.

"I don't want you to be alone. If you aren't with me, I want you with someone at all times, okay?" he said, as you nodded. "Are you going to Tara's when I have to leave for Econ later?"

"Yeah, will you walk me there before you go to class tonight?"

"Of course, baby."

You still had a few hours before he had to leave for class, so you cuddled up with him and decided to watch something funny to lighten the somber mood. As you and Ethan laughed, the terrifying reality that was your life wasn't weighing as heavy on your mind, because you really did feel safe with him. You knew he'd protect you if it came down to it.

You kept stealing glances at your boyfriend's still-shirtless body, paying extra attention to the way his arms flexed whenever he shifted beside you. It didn't take long for Ethan to notice, and once he realized that you had stopped watching the movie and was more interested in watching him, he leaned over to shut his laptop.

"Do you not want to watch the movie anymore?" you asked, as you quickly looked up to look at his face, the same smirk from earlier back on his lips.

"It didn't seem like you did," he teased, as he leaned in to kiss you. "Do you think oral counts in the whole 'Don't have sex' thing?"

"Is this your way of asking me to suck your dick?" you said, laughing a little as he bit his bottom lip.

"No, this is me asking to eat you out," he said, your eyes growing wide at his words, your breath hitching in your throat. "If you want me to."

"I don't think oral counts," you said, your smirk matching his before he pushed you back and hovered over you, connecting his lips to yours. "We do have to leave soon-ish, though, if you're going to walk me to Tara's before class."

"I have plenty of time to make you cum," he mumbled against your lips, before he pulled away to sit up.

His hands went to your leggings, hooking his fingers under the waistband before he slid them down your thighs. After they were off, his hand went straight to your pussy, teasing you as he rubbed you over the material that was getting wetter by the second in between your legs.

You relaxed under his touch, your legs spreading wider for him as he added a little more pressure. One of Ethan's favorite things in bed was teasing you, because he loved how whiny your voice sounded when you couldn't take it anymore, but as he thought more about the time he didn't have, he quickly pulled your panties down, leaving the lower half of your body exposed to him.

He scooted further down the bed, and once he was settled between your thighs, his eyes connected with your needy ones. He watched you as his tongue connected with your pussy, your mouth parting as you took a deep breath.

One of your hands lazily rested in his curls as he placed gentle licks to your clit, every thought running through your mind fading as you focused on how he was making you feel. The anticipation for him to do more had your skin tingling, but before you had the chance to say anything, his mouth moved lower, his tongue dipping inside your dripping pussy.

He was alternating between swirling his tongue inside of you and licking from your entrance to your clit, your hips squirming at the feeling as he tried to keep you still.

"Fuck," you moaned, your hand tangled tightly in his hair as you looked down at him. His mouth moved even faster, eating your pussy like he was craving it. He sucked your clit into his mouth, the delicious pressure making your back arch off the bed. "Oh my god," you whimpered, his teeth gently grazing it before he sucked a little harder.

Ethan knew that feeling was starting to build as he watched you, your brows furrowing, your whimpers slipping out through the corners of your mouth as your teeth tightly held your bottom lip. You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance before he slid his middle and ring ringer into you with ease, and he wasted no time to curve them, making sure to hit that spot.

"So close," you whimpered, as he chuckled with your clit in his mouth and kept going.

Your hand in his hair was shaking, your toes were curling against his sheets, your breathing was so heavy. Ethan loved seeing you like this, so close to the edge, and knowing he was the one that was making you feel that pleasure made his cock throb even harder than it already was.

He pressed his fingers a little harder, the feeling making your eyes roll back as you whined out, the hot feeling spreading across your body as your thighs clenched around his head. You were a whimpering mess as your body rocked from the waves of pleasure running through it.

As you came down from your high, your body relaxing against his bed as he pulled away, he watched you in awe as you caught your breath. He always thought you were beautiful, but your post-orgasm glow was his favorite. You lazily opened your eyes to see him staring at you, a smile playing on your lips.

"I know it's against the rules, but I need to have you inside of me," you said, as he laughed and slid his pajamas and boxers down in one swift motion.

"Condom or no condom?" he asked, waiting for your answer before he crawled on top of you.

"Just pull out," you said, a smirk playing on your lips as he quickly got settled between your legs.

"We have to be quick," he said, glancing over at the Star Wars clock on his night stand. "Is that okay?"

"Mhm," you said, as he slid inside of you.

He gave you a minute, his thrusts slow as your pussy adjusted to his size, before he sped up. You clung to his biceps as his hands were pressed flatly against his bed on either side of you, the tip of his cock slamming into your g-spot with every snap of his hips.

"Shit," you whimpered through your clenched teeth, your legs wrapping around his waist so he could go even deeper.

It didn't take long for your eyes to start rolling back again, the words you were trying to say coming out as babbles that Ethan couldn't understand.

"Look at you, so drunk off my cock," he teased, as you quickly nodded your head, your moans getting louder as he slid in and out of you. "Taking it so fucking well."

He grunted once he felt your nails dig into his arm, the stinging sensation turning him on even more. He went faster, and before you had the chance to process that you were about to cum, your body started to jolt, a loud cry flying out of your mouth as your pussy clenched him.

"Fuck, gonna cum," he moaned, before he pulled out.

As soon as he did, the realization that you were still wearing your shirt hit him as he covered it in his cum. You were too caught up in coming down from your own orgasm that you didn't notice, until Ethan started laughing to himself.

"What?" you asked, your breathing still labored as he shook his head and ran his hand through his curls.

"Uh...you wanna borrow a shirt before we leave?" he asked, as you glanced down to look at your shirt before you started laughing.

"Please," you said, as he leaned down to place a kiss to your lips.

He helped you get off his bed before he grabbed the clothes he wanted to wear out of the laundry basket full of stuff he hadn't folded yet, as you walked over to his dresser to search for your favorite shirt of his.

His back was turned towards you, but once he heard the drawer open, his head snapped in your direction, his heart pounding in his chest as you placed your hand over your mouth.

You saw the knife with the dried blood on it resting on top of his folded shirts, your eyes growing wide as your stomach felt queasy. You hesitantly turned your head to him, your eyes watering as he stepped closer.

"Baby," he said softly, as you took a step back. "This isn't what it looks like."

"So that's not a fucking bloody knife in your dresser?" you snapped, as he darted towards you, wincing at the loudness of your voice before his hand covered over your mouth.

"Shut the fuck up," he whispered, his eyes wide as he backed you towards the wall.

In that moment, you knew the person you were in love with was a psycho, fear coursing through your veins as his dark eyes looked into yours.

"I can't explain everything right now," he said, his face softening as his hand was still pressed against you. "But nothing's going to happen to you. You can't say anything, baby. You need to keep quiet, it's the only way I can keep you safe."

You hesitantly nodded, the tears running down your face pooling against the side of his hand. You were trying so hard to choke back your sobs as he groaned.

"I'm so fucking stupid," he said, as he took a deep breath. "If I let go of your mouth, will you be quiet?"

You nodded again, as he slowly pulled his hand away. You glanced at the floor as he stood in front of you, your chin quivering as he sighed.

"Baby, I'm sorry," he said, as he placed his hand under your chin and lifted your head to face him. You were still refusing to make eye contact. "I'm serious about you not saying anything. I'd never hurt you, but who I'm working with would. You know how long it took for me to convince them that you didn't need to die?"

You took a shaky breath as you looked at the person you thought you knew really well a few minutes ago, the realization hitting you that you don't know him at all.

"Can I trust you to not say anything?" he asked, a few more tears slipping past your lash line as you nodded. "I'll tell you everything later, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, as he walked over to grab a shirt out of the drawer that was still open, and handed it to you.

"You need to get dressed, baby. I'm going to be late for class."

[haine-kleine]

after sitting with my thoughts about the epilogue for some time, I think the thing that broke the story had started right after Dabi's dance. said thing is LOV' utterly out of character treatment of each other and Shigaraki specifically.

them just standing there and passively observing the scene makes absolutely zero sense, if you use anything from their previously established relationships within the organisation for reference. especially with All for One's creepy comments. Spinner even points out shortly before this chapter that AFO!Shigaraki seems nothing like his normal self and this person is not the one he had chosen to follow.

and yes, Spinner does approach screaming Shigaraki and tries to help him, and his concern later leads him to seeing Shigaraki's mutated form in the cave, and on its own this development for Spinner is in line with his character and all around fine. pretty reminiscent of Toga and Twice, too.

(except Spinner is not allowed to really help Shigaraki in any way, unlike Toga was allowed to help Twice, and this entire thing between Shigaraki and Spinner only ends with Spinner's regrets and survivor's guilt instead of anything good or meaningful that isn't meaningless angst porn)

it isn't Spinner approaching Shigaraki that is the issue, it's the other's complete lack of action or even reaction besides appearing mildly disturbed. this is simply out of character for all of them, just judging by Twice's example who had similar breakdowns and wasn't plainly ignored by the others until his fit stops. this reaction makes even less sense, when you take into account the current state of the League. Twice had just been murdered by Hawks, the double agent who had infiltrated the League via Dabi, and Mister Compress had just sacrificed himself to give the League a chance for escape, and was sent to Tartarus immediately after his condition was no longer life threatening. Kurogiri is also being held captive by the heroes. there are only four of them left, with two dead and two captured. and none of them even mention the dead or the captured outside of the context of Kurogiri and his quirk.

this straight out makes no sense if you look back to the Overhaul arc and remember how far Shigaraki and the rest of them were willing to go to avenge Magne's death and Mr Compress' destroyed arm. this was important.

the event had motivated Shigaraki to be a better leader, because he had realized these people depend on him, and he won't let them be hurt under his protection. it had started the seed of self-doubt in Jin which would eventually grow to the desperation that allowed him to overcome the mental block against his quirk in the MVA arc, because he wanted to do everything he possibly could to help the League. it allowed him to make his clones despite the crippling trauma, because he saw Toga's hurt, bleeding body, and he didn't want her to die.

even fucking Giran, a broker whose very profession requires him to care about himself and his own well-being first and foremost, had sacrificed all of his fingers to prevent Redestro from getting his hands on the League. because he wants to protect them, to save them. and then we never actually see his mutilated hands or hear anything from him ever again.

and when Twice actually dies? all we get in response to that are two upset faces from Dabi and Toga's fury. that's it.

i really want to stress how out of character this barely-present reaction is, because Magne's example is right there and when Overhaul had killed her, the League knew each other for no longer than a month. this League has been together for at least half a year, had been through thick and thin together, had spent months on the run, homeless, having no one but each other to rely on, has defeated the Meta Liberation Army, quite literally, with the power of their friendship. they all cared enough about each other and Shigaraki specifically to stay with him during those months they had to fight Gigantomachia with barely any breaks for rest, still homeless, barely scraping by. it was imperative that they all survive through this together, especially for Shigaraki, who had went on this quest of getting stronger at least partly so that he would become a more reliable protector for the League. and when Twice falls victim to the hero who had murdered him in cold blood, because no one except for Dabi was there to save him, Shigaraki doesn't even get to react to Twice's death, and possibly never even learns about the fact.

on topic of Dabi, his reaction being exactly two frames of sad expressions and including the footage of Twice's murder into his broadcast, and ending immediately after that, also makes no sense. Dabi is someone who holds himself accountable and despite his declarations, cares about the League, it's the very reason he was keeping Hawks from the League and sprinted to Twice as soon as he realized Hawks' intentions with him, to protect him. Dabi's unsuccessful attempt to save Twice is another iteration of Overhaul, a combination of Shigaraki and Twice's roles in the tragedy. but unlike Shigaraki, who had steeled himself into taking care of his subordinates and becoming a responsible and strong leader, or Twice who had never forgotten about his role in the incident, Dabi just somehow forgets about the entire thing as soon as the first war is over. Toga is the one whom the narrative allows to actively react to Twice's death and express her grief. it makes sense that her reaction would be the strongest, as she was the closest with Twice, but why are two LOV members no longer allowed to care about the same incident at the same time? why aren't they allowed to protect each other anymore, when Giran, who is not even in the League, had made that sacrifice for them?

These are pretty small things, but it's these instances of Toga and Dabi preventing Machia from being injected with the sedative, protecting the League that are sorely missing in the second war.

and the biggest act of devotion and protection to the League, which was the last time we saw anything like this for them, Mister Compress' last moments with the League.

Mutilating his own body just to buy them five seconds to possibly escape. Because he loved the League, because he wanted all of them to be happy and achieve their dreams, to be free, and to live.

and in return for the favour, not only do they not come back for him like they did for Kurogiri (because his quirk is important for the plot, while Compress' isn't), but none of them mention Compress ever again. same with Twice (with the exception of Toga), same with Magne. from this point onwards, none of them are allowed by the plot to even care about the League of Villains. the interpersonal relationships between two individuals still shine through, occasionally, like Spinner's devotion to Shigaraki (and him alone), Dabi and Toga's pyromaniac trauma lane visit to her house and him giving her Twice's blood, Kurogiri reaching out to Shigaraki in the very end. but what about the League? ahd what about the dead members of the League, or Mister Compress?

somehow, at the point of the final war it boils down to the generalized conflict of heroes vs villains and the morality gymnastics involved in the concept. on its own, this would have been an okay development, if the examples the story was using to prove its point weren't people who had become very close friends and who had lost four people to this war against the heroes.

if the individual conflicts, like Toga's desperation to be acknowledged as human being deserving of affection, Dabi's familial abuse trauma and Shigaraki's lifelong manipulation by All for One not giving him any chance to be saved at all, were the finishing line of the villains' story development, why join them within the League at all? LOV is a separate concept functioning as a collective uniting all these villains, giving them a place to belong and people who give a fuck whether they live or die. except not anymore, because for some reason after the first war this concept is scratched completely.

so why not make them mere acquaintances who sometimes collaborate to bother the heroes together, if the bond between them got in the way of the story and wasn't the point of the story? why prove the depth of their bond with the Overhaul and My Villain Academia arcs? why make Shigaraki develop relationships and a sense of responsibility for these people at all, if in the very end his desire to save these people is denied by the author himself?

the previous arcs have spent a great deal of effort establishing that the villains are human too. they have human feelings, human desires and human relationships. so why is it that in the final arc their ability to experience human emotions towards each other is turned on and off manually by the author? at the very end even the author stops pretending like anything happening to the villains is evaluated on the scale of human experiences (unlike the heroes, whose injuries and deaths are talked about and mourned in great detail) and Kurogiri and Shigaraki are wiped out like plot inconveniences rather than important and well written characters.

honestly? it's ironically meta that the story ended up proving the very point it has spent 400 chapters arguing against.

[bitter-me]

Can you do Boothill with a male reader who has the abilities of Absolute Solver from murder drones

Male reader went missing after the ICP destroyed Boothill's homeland. Many years later, Boothill and the other met male reader but male reader already got possessed by the Solver

I want an angst with a happy ending story please

Absolute

Boothill | M. Reader as the Absolute Solver [Murder Drones]

----------

"The flesh demands invitation."

----------

"What are you doing all smiling like that?"

"Huh? Oh nothing."

[Name] narrowed his eyes at Boothill's words, not believing it. He says it was nothing, but his scans say otherwise. The other can't help but laugh at [Name] expression, those neon [Color] eyes that narrowed on his visor. "I was just thinking about what to get my daughter."

"I see, got any ideas yet?"

"I'm thinking..."

Without saying anything else, [Name]'s visor changes to that of a shopping list. "Well there are countless gifts you could get from across the galaxy so—"

"Wait wait wait!"

His visor glitches and goes back to normal. [Name] looked at Boothill for a second seemingly confused. What was that about?

"I want to make it special."

"Oohh.." [Name] blurred out as he finally understands. "If you're going to handmade it. I could help if you like."

"Heh, thanks [Name]."

For as long as he knows [Name], the robot is a kind person who's happy to help those in need. He was a joy. Everyone was. Everyone on his home planet was a joy, like a small neighborhood. Everyone gets along with one another, there's rarely any conflict it's just a nice and welcoming place. Home.

Therefore [Name] didn't deserve this, none of them deserved this. It's outrageous. What did they do? What kind of sin did they commit to have on this planet. Their home. Destroyed in such a way.

As Boothill look at the surrounding fire and destruction of his home, he began to search around the area. Any place he thinks people will be at. Anywhere.

There are at least survivors right? Surely there are some people who survived this.. who saw the attack an immediately run towards a safe place.. surely..

Right..?

But nothing..

Boothill find nothing but ashes and ruins of once someone's home.

Everything..

..is destroyed.

Why.. why does this have to happen? He was happy. They were happy! What did they do to deserve this?

SCREW THE IPC!!

----------

"Upgrading models? cutting maintenance costs? There are many reasons the client may wish to disassemble a drone individual or a series after a period of use. Following these two simple steps is key to avoid—"

"Incompletely disassemble drones may occasionally reboot from software death alone. More than undead federal fine hazards. Its corrupted AI carries an increased risk of future errors."

.

.

.

He stood there completely motionless. How is he supposed to react to that? After so many years...

Staying at the Express may be the best call for him. It's a free ride after all. Not to mention everyone is quite nice. Dan Heng was even willing to show him the Data Bank but...

This is one of them..? One of the information they've obtained during their travels? Don't get him wrong, it's useful, incredibly useful. But... if Boothill were to obtain such knowledge long ago..

He would have properly disassembled him.

To prevent such a fate from happening to someone he holds in high regards. If he were to do that... none of this would have happened!!

He—it screeches as it tries to get out of its restraints. That's not him. That's not [Name]!!

This was just another planet. One where the Nameless has set their sights on. They thought it was just another Stellaron Crisis. But... this is not the work of a Stellaron.. but the work of a drone that's not been properly disassembled.

It continues to screech as the researchers expose the drone to the artificial sunlight. It screeches in pain and agony as the researchers run around, trying to put a stop to this... thing..

He can't watch this.. he can't watch this any longer.

Without saying another word Boothill leave the Cathedral to get some fresh air. He can't. He just can't watch that.. whatever they were doing to someone he cared for.

----------

"MacGuffin." The robotic voice echoes throughout an empty.. bloody.. ruined.. Cathedral.

Is this the type of thing the Nameless has to handle? Not the Absolute Solver no no... Fighting for your muddle fudgling life! Dodging an attack Boothill ready his revolver and shoot the claw-like thing.

It laughs at their attempts. It's six against one and yet they're losing how pathetic! "Thank you for the new host." It stated casually before narrowing avoiding an attach by Himeko's laser with a smirk on it's face the Solver summons it's claws once more and began it's onslaught of attacks. In a blink of an eye, all of them experience multiple near death situations left, right, and center. Fighting someone who can regenerate is cheating! They could be here for all of eternity!

Where's the cure!?

Its perpetual grin seems to widen every time any of them try to harm it which of course never worked as the Solver's regeneration rate is incredibly high. It laughs, summoning a miniature blackhole that was quickly disabled by Welt as he attack the Solver. "Have any of you find it get?" "No, we're still looking!" March replied, firing an arrow at one of it's claws while looking around for the crucifix that holds the data. The cure for the Solver. "Well I'm sorry, but fighting while searching is not easy!" Caelus cuts in, looking around the place as he ducks under the benches to avoid a stray attack. "Just focus on searching, we'll try to cover you!" Dan Heng stated firmly, using his powers as a  Vidyadhara to at least land a critical attack on the Solver.

With each attack the Solver just keep regenerating! But each time they themselves is inching closer to their own demise! Boothill took cover as he reload his bullets while looking at his surroundings for any potential threats. But something else caught his eye..

It's the crucifix!

Quickly taking it from the bloody floor, Boothill examine it for a moment, making sure it's the real deal. After a quick and swift examination, the usb connector pops out at the bottom of it. It's real alright. The cure for the Solver and the key to ending this nightmare.

"Cover for me!" He signaled before making a run for it. The Nameless did their best to keep the Solver at bay until Boothill does the finishing blow and slammed the crucifix usb model straight into the drone's visor and just like clockwork it let out a glitched robotic groan as it tries to take out the crucifix and in its efforts the cure done it's job. Motionlessly throws crucifix away the drone immediately slump to the floor.

Looking amongst themselves, the Nameless stood their ground not knowing whether the fight is over or is the Solver playing tricks on them. With caution Boothill slowly approached his old friend. Surely he's still there right? The Solver is dead. The patch worked! It has to work! Or else it....

Kneeling in front of him Boothill extended his hand. Waiting for a respond from the other. Anything! Much to their surprise the drone took the other's hand, slowly looking up, revealing it's---no, his neon [Color] eyes on his visor while the crack where they inserted the patch is slowly being healed. Yes! It worked! Letting out a dry, pained laugh Boothill gave [Name] a tight embrace. He's back. His old friend's back.

[djarins-cyare]

Here from your WIP post - please tell me about Refugees From TV Land?!

Yay, I’m so glad someone asked about this one! 🩵 It’s one of my favourites and the first fic idea I wrote down after finishing Be-All And Endor.

As those of you who’ve read my WIP folder titles may have guessed, I’m pretty obsessed with the whole ‘Earthling in the SWU’ concept. One of my most beloved Mandalorian fics ever (Short Debts Make Long Friends by @wrathkitty) features a Reader from Earth, and I’ve already described one of my Earthling!Reader fic ideas here.

Another of my favourite Mandalorian fics is Not My Stars by @keldabe-kriff, which is kind of the opposite – it features Din becoming stuck on Earth. It’s such an intriguing inversion of the ‘Earthling in the SWU’ concept that I found myself dreaming up my own spin on how such a situation could come about and what the dynamics would be like. I love the idea of Din being totally flummoxed by things we find normal and the reader having to help him adapt!

Refugees From TV Land is a placeholder title until I can think of something better, but I’ve got the whole thing plotted out and have written a few scenes here and there. I think the best way to illustrate the setup is simply to give you the entire scene where Din arrives, although I don’t really want to give away much more than that for now. So here you go – I hope you enjoy it! 🩵

Refugees From TV Land

BOOM!

You bolt upright as a deafening bang wrenches you from your couch-based slumber, shattering the enjoyable Mandalorian-themed dream you were having. The projector still hums quietly behind you, its vintage lens casting an achromatic glow over the room, though the show has long since ended.

Through the foggy confusion of your abrupt awakening, you scan the room, convinced that something has either fallen or exploded, and a mounting panic hits as you realise Yoda is nowhere to be seen.

“Yoda! Where are you, buddy?” That dog is a menace.

After a few seconds, the patter of claws on the hardwood floor signals your little hound has heard your summons. All you see at first are his huge ears approaching the couch before he leaps up to join you.

“What have you destroyed this time, huh?” you ask, already dreading the mess you’ll have to face.

Yoda huffs at your accusation before bounding forward to lick your face – either in apology or simple affection – and you collapse back onto the sofa, laughing as you fend him off with a few ear scratches. A quick once-over confirms he isn’t wet, smeared in food, or singed. It’s unlikely he’s caused too much damage, then.

“Alright, little guy, whatever it is, we’ll tackle it tomorrow. Bedtime now.” But as you try to kick off the blanket and sit back up, you swear you hear something else – a man’s shout, distant yet discernible.

Is someone outside? You’re about to get up and check when Yoda growls, and a cold shiver of alarm races through you at the possibility of an intruder. This place is so isolated that you’re not sure how to handle such a prospect. You freeze for several anxious moments, watching your dog for any clues about the threat’s origin.

Then, you notice something odd: Yoda isn’t growling at the door or the windows. He’s fixated on the blank wall opposite you, upon which the projector still casts a large square of light.

And that’s when you see it.

Shifting patterns ripple within the light’s confines – undulating shimmers that make the solid wall appear almost liquid, the shapes slowly gaining colour and definition.

Suddenly, Yoda howls, and your focus snaps back to him, only to see him doing his best wolf impression at the ceiling. “What the fuck…?” you murmur.

But before you can reach out to soothe him, a shrill, high-pitched tone slices through the air, forcing you to clamp your hands over your ears. Yoda abandons his howling in favour of barking instead, his gaze fixed once again on the wall. You look up and see… images! They’re faint but unmistakable – as if the projector’s lens is out of focus.

Wondering what on earth it’s projecting (since the DVD has undoubtedly ended), you reach up behind the sofa and fiddle with the lens assembly, twisting the focusing gear to adjust the aperture. The piercing tone has vanished, so you drop your other hand from your ear, noting that Yoda has now fully burrowed himself beneath your blanket.

So much for your guard dog, the little wimp.

As the image sharpens, you hear a man shouting again – but this time, you can make out the words: “There he is! Stop him!” Desperately, you twist the focus gear once more, trying to tune in whatever your projector is inexplicably displaying.

Suddenly, the image becomes vividly clear – a perfectly projected grey hallway with angular walls and glowing strip lighting. Your drowsy mind struggles to make sense of the familiar architecture and fathom why it’s being projected onto your living room wall when, all at once, there’s another boom. You jolt in shock, and Yoda whines from beneath the blanket.

Then chaos erupts in the corridor: flashes of red ricochet off the walls, and your eyes widen as a figure dashes around the corner. A figure you recognise immediately.

It’s none other than the Mandalorian – his silver beskar deflecting the red plasma as if it were mere rain in a summer storm.

What the fuck are you seeing? Is this an easter egg at the end of the DVD or something?!

You watch as Din tucks himself against the wall near the corner he just raced around. He peeks back out and fires a couple of blaster shots back the way he came while Grogu’s little pod zips around the corner, its top closed tight to protect him.

Suddenly, a door slides open closer to you along the corridor, and a stormtrooper steps into the foreground, taking aim at Din’s back.

“Oh, shit!” you gasp, fully immersed in the stakes of this bizarre bonus scene. But Din pivots just in time, firing his blaster straight at his would-be attacker. The trooper falls instantly, their own shot going wide and bouncing off the metal wall until it hurtles directly toward the camera…

…and into your fucking living room!

You scream as it impacts the wall above you, desperately wondering if you’re still asleep on your couch and merely dreaming this madness… until Din rushes toward you, shouting, “Is it safe there?”

This is a dream. It can’t be real.

Nonetheless, you nod.

And then he’s running toward you again, stormtroopers rounding the corner behind him, blaster bolts shrieking in your direction.

You cringe as elements from the show you love transform your cosy living room into a battlefield. Red plasma shatters an antique vase on your shelf… it singes your new oak coffee table and custom-made couch cushions… and the Mandalorian you’ve adored for the past four years dives through the wall, rolling to a surprisingly graceful stop on your rug.

Holy shit. This is a dream. This is just a totally realistic, scarily vivid dream.

But the shots keep coming, and the stormtroopers clamour ever closer….

“Close the doorway!” Din yells, rolling to his knees and returning fire through your wall.

Reacting mindlessly to his command, you twist on the couch, stretching up behind you to slam the on/off switch as fast as you can. But as the projector’s light flickers and fades, a few more blaster shots make it through the rapidly vanishing ‘doorway’ – and one catches your outstretched forearm.

The pain is more excruciating than any injury you’ve ever endured. You can’t even tell if you scream; you think you do, but nothing else exists beyond the searing agony of white-hot plasma eating into your skin.

It’s fucking glowing.

With the projector now off, the room is shrouded in darkness save for the moonlight streaming through the windows… and your fucking glowing wound.

You slide back down on the couch, clutching your injured arm and trying your goddamn best not to hyperventilate.

“Hey… let me see,” you hear, and suddenly, your fictional crush is gently cradling your forearm in his soft leather gloves. Din fucking Djarin is kneeling beside you, holding your arm as you hysterically gulp down oxygen and repress the urge to scream. Then, a gurgling sound comes from behind him, and you glance up…

…and wide brown eyes stare at you from between enormous batwing ears that illustrate exactly why you named your dog Yoda. Except… he looks real. A real-life Grogu with fluid movements – so unlike that jerky puppet in the show.

It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. Even your desperate, gasping attempts to take in oxygen aren’t enough to stave off your shocked mind’s overwhelming desire: to just switch the fuck off for a while.

And as darkness encroaches from the edges of your vision, you remain conscious just long enough to feel something tingly being sprayed on your arm. The last thing you hear before you pass out is a modulated voice that sounds remarkably like Pedro Pascal assuring you, “You’re gonna be fine.”

Sure. You will be when you wake up. Because this was all a dream.

Right?

[chirpycloudyrobin]

Masterlist || START || Next

im just thinking abt an au where wwx actually did die at the burial mounds but him surviving long enough there and even pioneering a new branch of cultivation to do so was enough to punt his ghost straight up to wrath rank. however he is unaware that hes actually dead since hes too focused on his goal to absolutely decimate wen chao to pay attention to his bodily functions/needs or lack thereof.

everyone else gets this feeling that something is off with wwx but they figure its just heebie jeebies from the demonic cultivation. it's only until wwx went back to the burial mounds with the wen remnants that it sinks in that hes dead. but then he realises that if this gets out, the cultivation world will be hunting for his head more viciously so he keeps this very tightly under wraps. all this secret keeping and exhaustion and starvation just makes wwx a teensy bit more volatile but at least he has his own little family to keep him sane.

until shit starts to go downhill. and it just keeps on going. until everyone is gone and hes the only one left standing and he needs to destroy the stupid fucking seal and keep the others from discovering where he hid a-yuan so he takes his chances and pours his everything into destroying the seal. except this time hes a little more powerful than he wouldve been if he was mortal and he levels part of the burial mounds before he went. and thus was the last of wwx.

or was it ?

the world believes wwx to be dead ("good riddance") but actually hes still kicking and in a more incorporeal form. he had to retreat somewhere deep in the burial mounds to recover and thus was unable to see that lwj had come back and taken a severely feverish a-yuan with him. wwx thinks everyone is dead and gone and everything was all for naught so he stews in his mistakes and tries to repent while stitching himself back together.

sometime after, he ends up in mount tonglu which was reopened because the aftershocks of the destruction of the stygian tiger seal were strong enough to disturb mount tonglu's magma chamber of resentment basically. so for ~12 years wwx was in there fighting his way thru which was why he didnt answer to lwj's calls

wwx survives as the last standing ghost after the slaughter and stews in the kiln for another month and a half or so. this would be around the time mxy is preparing to summon wwx's ghost for the summoning.

so imagine wwx just came out of the thing as a newly minted supreme/ghost king and hes immediately yanked to where mxy is. wwx's soul isnt stuffed into mxy's newly-emptied physical body since hes a ghost king this time around. still, he helps mxy but in the shadows bc hes still not keen on getting yoinked just when he returned to the mortal world.

everything proceeds as canon, with wwx sharing mxy's body via possession at some points for the comedy gold and the bit (because he would !! let the man be silly)

after that he absolutely yanks mxy outta there after lwj arrives (just after he spends like 5 minutes staring at lwj's beauty of course) and decides hes gonna adopt this sad little wet cat and teach him the actual proper ways of cultivation and steer him away from demonic cultivation bc tbh it's just not worth it esp since mxy has a golden core and who knows how demonic cultivation will affect a golden core-

anyways

wwx decides to do a silly little makeover so he wouldnt be recognised by any of his old acquaintances. his new appearance ends up a weird lil mix between himself and mxy, enough to claim that theyre distant cousins and normal rogue cultivators just starting out. wwx plans on taking his new charge around the country and away from the sects after he learned the godawful way the lanling jin have treated mxy

"single parenthood will be hard, but this father will make sure you get the best life on the road, my sweet little loquat." "you barely look older than me to be my father, wei-qianbei" "shush let me have this"

their traveling is off to a good start. but then dafan mountain happens and holy shit wen ning is still alive(?? technically ??) and holy shit why the fuck is everyone from wwx's previous life gathering here and holy shit did he just insult his shijie's son and-

why the fuck are they going with the gusu lan cultivators

what the fuck just happened

what

anyways

wwx introduces himself as a golden core-less distant mo cousin ("had an unfortunate run-in with the core melting hand back then") who used to be a rogue cultivator back in the day and is now dabbling with the art of talisman making and definitely isnt practicing demonic cultivation no siree

somehow he and mxy end up separated as lwj and wwx go to investigate the severed arm together and mxy ends up going w the juniors with a lil encouragement from wwx

"youll have a better time socialising with people your age, little loquat" "wei-qianbei plz ,,, u just want to go w hanguang-jun alone dont u" "lmao hahahahah who said that"

wwx is absolutely having the time of his life roleplaying a damsel in distress while being completely oblivious to the bone chilling fear he induces in their undead opponents. he invents silly little talismans to help hanguang-jun in battle. hes a little perplexed at how much shit lwj is letting him get away with.

hes also 90% sure lwj has figured out that hes a ghost and hes sweating like a sinner in church deep inside

i havent thought of much past this but heres some more tidbits of info that i thought about

at some point wwx is made aware of his infamy as the "Devil Flute Upon Graves". his self destruction at the burial mounds wiped out most of the vengeful ghosts in that area and, as mentioned before, shook mount tonglu w enough resentful energy to bust it open

wwx has an army of ghostly corvids that are essentially made of condensed resentful energy. they are also sort of empathetically connected to him ??? so theyre also chatty, yappy things who are extra fond of lwj and the junior ducklings

actually wwx's entire being post-supreme promotion is just condensed resentful/yin energy and being in his presence should be dangerous for regular ppl and cultivators alike but (a) he has mastered the art of keeping the effects contained within himself and (b) existing within the same space as lwj and doing their everyday means that their yin and yang energy are constantly balancing each other out to the point where it just naturally and passively happens. lwj literally dampens wwx's natural heebie jeebie vibes bc of good dick

because hes made up of yin energy, this does mean that it's ridiculously easy for him to switch back and forth between a male and female form. he usually ends up walking around in an androgynous form that leans towards a healthier, happier looking yiling laozu

VERY IMPORTANT ADDITION: yes ofc wwx gives lwj his ashes. it's in the form of an ornament. idk where to hang it tho. maybe wangji-guqin ? or his belt ? still debating on it for sure

the burial mounds are regarded in the ghost realm as his territory now and the ghost realm and heavenly court wait w baited breath to see what this new ghost king would do

the answer is he gallivants all over the damn continent with his new cultivator husband and their gaggle of children. wwx really dgaf about anything else really, he just wants to be Wife and Teacher

the wen remnants are given a second chance at life by wwx himself after the second siege of the burial mounds and they now live a happy afterlife at wwx's new ghost town where their old settlement used to be

he and hua cheng get along by virtue of being former street kids who just want to hang out w their godly spouses and their conversations together are just praise after praise for said godly spouses

wwx's birbs do eat hua cheng's butterflies and it's a frequent point of contention. no harm is done to the butterflies tho, the birbs just spit them out whole bc they taste absolutely nasty/poisonous

wwx 🤝 xie lian : little to no self-preservation instincts. they just want to help people okay !!

after the entire guanyin temple ordeal wwx ends up with a worshipped godly aspect whose primary place of worship is in yiling, who still remember the yiling laozu who just wanted to help his little family survive to the next day. to them, wwx became the god of innovation, ingenuity, and protection

he also becomes the patron god of street children ??? he just finds himself helping street kiddos and taking in vengeful ghost children because it was what he needed back when he was a kid okay ??? hes just using his powers for good, thats all

mxy is taken in by the gusu lan clan where he ends up become a promising candidate as a talisman master, thanks to wwx's encouragement and guidance

also !! it turns out more than a couple of other ppl ascended into the heavenly court, namely:

- jiang yanli ascended as the new water master, while jin zixuan became a martial god. shes a goddess of abundance, the home, and reconciliation. hes a god of wealth, fortune, and justice - nie mingjue also ascended to become a martial god after his spirit was laid to rest. he was supposed to ascend naturally but jin guangyao's bullshit derailed his fate. - wen qing ascended to become a medical master/goddess of medicine and sacrifice tho shes also kind of infamous for her friendship with devil flute upon graves. but nobody can say shit cz if they do say shit then they wld also be saying shit abt hualian and they dont want to deal with two calamities up their ass

thats all i can yap abt rn but i might add more we dunno

[saltedsour]

Why the lens of NPD makes Blixer the funniest possible character.

NPD standing for, obviously, Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

Lets get a few things out of the way. Mainly that I do not aim for this to be a demonising lens. Moreso a "hey if i was in this circle's situation id do the same". Villains being vain, narcissistic abusers is a very, very common trend, even in media that claims it is more progressive than it actually is. This isn't being written to show why Blixer is evil, but how he does everything.

Secondly. A crown on a narcissist is usually just an easy sign to go "this guy's a narcissist". Most clipart you see for "surviving narcissists" has one guy looking into the mirror, and the mirror self having a crown and being cool and evil and whatever. This sucks for obvious reasons (its a disorder. normal people have disorders, not evil kings?), but it is also a REALLY GOOD symbol to 'reclaim'. I personally love it.

Why is this circle so fucking angry?

A pretty frequent feature in the NPD package is when anything that feels like an attack on you is one. It's not an accident, that person was trying to sabotage you. In a JS&B lens, this helps explain two key moments.

Why Blixer didn't really enjoy the player at the start of the game (exploded, plus the lost chapter stuff). If you've been in a cave for one morbillion years or whatever, and someone just Dodges All Your Attacks and then walks away when you explode, it'd be pretty infuriating. Also why this guy beat up an innocent bystander. Fly high, flower.

Annihilate. This is actually the biggest one for me. Your whole little evil pink kingdom just got fucking destroyed, and then the person who did so takes a representation of your ego and just goes "hey this is mine now :-)". When NPD makes you maladaptively regulate self esteem AND you just got insulted (in your eyes) in every way possible, you might get a little upset. You might become a blood centipede monster. I would too.

He doesn't do that much bad stuff directly.

Most of the issues ingame seemingly happen from the giant industry + tower he spawned and the corruption in general. Other than beating the shit out of a guy (we don't care about them) in the opening cutscene, he really doesn't do all that much in person until the player appears.

Why? What is he doing? We all know this. He is playing guitar on top of the tower for most of the game. This is someone who finally got the ego boost / supply he needed and then had fun with his own hobbies. From the lens of "guy who feels like he needs to literally rule the world to be seen and understood."

But he still did all that shit.

He still corrupted the world though. Which was probably a bad thing. However. If all your AUs are going to make it so he originally felt isolation over the corruption, then I raise you this:

Being an absolute nobody is the worst feeling in the world.

And as soon as he took over the world and basically forced everyone to call him his king, then and only then did he just start having fun and #playing. A possible way to frame this is him being too stupid to effectively rule over the world, but I don't think thats fun.

If his main goal was to make it so he was the centre of attention AND that everyone was like him (pink (which is called bad in a fucking In-Game Tip)) then he would've basically won already in his own head by the time the game fully starts. And he can finally do regular people - shape - things. He did all that stuff, but clearly this geometric circle didn't really have any other option considering he got so pissed off he made the world evil and that's hard to come back from.

Also it's important to mention that during the moment where he actually kind of Takes Over The World he's definitely not thinking rationally after eating the tree of life.

I think he took the world takeover thing too seriously.

Or maybe not seriously enough. Depends on how you look at it.

This is me mostly making fun of this circle but can you imagine getting all this power, and the first thing you do is take over the world. That's normal. The second thing you do is make yourself a crown. Okay. The third thing you do is absolutely nothing else. He seems more focused on the image of a ruler than anything.

If everything went right, he would have even had a sign showing he was the actual final boss. Which becomes a funny meta example where that level isn't even the actual final boss and instead he (it's his tower's sign, after all) put all that work towards the image of a final boss rather than actually being one. Although this doesn't hold much weight when we consider that he became a cannon just to kill us, I think he tried pretty hard.

Why not just fix what you've done, Blixer?

Admitting you're wrong and also getting rid of the only thing keeping your ego afloat isn't easy. In fact, it's genuinely painful. If he managed to actually calm down after basically eating the energy equivalent of a hydrogen bomb, then it'd kind of be almost impossible to look at all you did and say "damn, I was wrong".

It's easier to actually know you did something wrong when the consequences hit you and you can't do anything else but accept what you did. Postgame fans write that down.

Him learning and growing to be a better person would be awesome if it's also from the lens of NPD.

If fucking Kuzco (of Disney fame) could do it he could too. NPD is a disorder and thus has disordering traits, but I do think working with this for the character kind of helps when it comes to improving it in postgame stories. He starts off with basically NO ways to work with what are life-shatteringly important needs, and does maladaptive things in order to help.

Anger? Lashing out at people that Slighted him. Being a vain little prick? Trying to keep himself on a pedestal before it crumbles underneath him. Turning yourself into a blood centipede nightmare monster? A reasonable* reaction in his perspective.

You can learn to care about people's thoughts even if you started off. Um. Taking over the world.

There's a lot more to NPD than being an evil person and abuser. Starting off with no empathy doesn't really mean a death sentence. You can have him learn helping others is Good Actually but still slip up. Imagine a beautiful world with a postgame Blixer who has friends now and still has NPD. Imagine. If he's still pink and "corrupted" while being good, you can understand a world where he can be narcissistic and still be good.

I can take you to that world 🕊️ 🌾 🌹 ☀️...

Finally: NPD is a comedic disorder

It's true. Sometimes the world feels like it breaks apart because you are being Unloved and potentially hated. Not EVERYONE likes you, and that makes the world feel like it's being torn apart at the seams. You go from feeling at the top of the world to feeling like shit.

And then as soon as you're back up and running you look back at that and go "hmm. maybe not as serious as i thought".

You can do so much with this. There's more to NPD than what the masses know. "guy who literally did all this to be cool to himself" is just an insanely funny concept to me. He could've just been at the club.

NPD isn't always about physical vanity unlike what clipart tells you. It's about Pretty Unsafe levels of self esteem (from high highs to low crashes), and him fitting the bill makes him feel like a more interesting character to me.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🦇

Eddie wakes up to The Upside Down destroying itself. He manages to escape, but there's a catch...he is now a bat. You (Dustin's sister) take him in and Eddie desperately tries to find a way to get back to his human self.

Little bits of angst and some fluff. Bat Eddie for a little bit 🦇 protective Eddie.

❤️

One minute Eddie was sure he was dying. In fact, he's pretty sure he was dead for a while because when he woke up, it was to find the pain from being ripped apart by demobats, to be gone.

Eddie would have assumed he was in heaven, at peace. Until he opened his eyes fully and concluded that he was still in The Upside Down and the hellhole was tearing itself apart.

He doesn't know how he managed to escape the destruction, but he did; truth be told, he passed out a couple of times and when he was roused from his stupor by loud voices.

"You can't pick that thing up. It might have rabies!" Now that the voice was familiar, it sounded like Robin with someone he didn't recognise. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a sort of chittering sound.

Shit... now Eddie has had an insane few hours; he woke up after being dead for god knows how long, passed out, and escaped an interdimensional hellscape only to pass out again, so it isn't his fault that he's just now noticed that he's not human.

No, he's a fucking bat. One of those nasty little shits who caused him to bleed out in Dustin's arms. Oh shit, Dustin. He had to see Dustin. Eddie begins to squeak again until you pick him up.

"It isn't one of those creepy demobats, Robin; it's smaller and kinda cute. Those things were freaky and had too many claws and teeth. Look, It's injured, I have gloves on and just want to check that it's okay and yes I'll try to hide it from Dustin, I know my brother though and he'll suss me out within minutes"

Wait a minute... You were Henderson's sister? He remembers Dustin telling him about you once or twice. He knew you were a senior when Dustin was a Freshman, but he'd never met you. He had been curious for ages, though, and now the two of you had finally met.

"Yeah, alright, just keep its teeth away from me, yeah?" Eddie squeaks; oh, Steve was here too? He would smirk if he could; he hadn't known Steve long, what with dying and all, but it was a joy to fluster the previous king of Hawkins.

He wonders if Big Boy has finally talked it out with Wheeler? If he could change back into human form, then he'd ask, but as of yet, Eddie doesn't know how to do that.

He feels like his thoughts are going a mile a minute; he wants to find his Uncle Wayne and let him know that he's okay, but that is impossible to do now. At least he would have shelter with the Hendersons until he turned back into a human.

Whenever he turned back that is.

❤️

Dustin is at eye level with Eddie, gazing at him reproachfully. Eddie squeaks, trying to convey who he is; he even manages a half-hearted fly over to Dustin's Hellfire shirt and chitters away at you and Dustin praying that you both understand. He's still weak, though, and it tires him quickly.

"I couldn't leave him out there, I understand if you don't want him in the house Dusty, I could take him to Steve's or to Robin's and look after him there," you say to your brother gently, he's still not coping well with Eddie's death and you don't want anything to set him back further.

You wish you could have met Eddie, sure you knew of him around school but your paths never crossed that much. Not enough for you to be properly introduced to him... and now it was too late.

It would have been nice to know the person who your brother adored so much.

"S'kay, he's kinda cute. Nothing like those freaky little shits we've had to fight. I think he might just be a normal bat? Everything from The Upside Down is dust now so we don't have to worry"

Eddie closes his eyes, growing sleepy. He's now cocooned in soft blankets in a little box and figures maybe he will get some sleep and figure out how to turn back to human once he's had a good rest. Your fingers gently rub his head and he chitters softly, it's nice.

The next thing Eddie knows he's waking up to sobbing and startles when he realises it's Dustin who's made his way to your room, he's crying on your shoulder and Eddie's heart restricts painfully at the pain in Dustin's voice.

"I miss Eddie, I just want him back. It's not fair that he had to die" Eddie watches you soothe Dustin as best as you can but you're teary too and Eddie finds that this hurts his heart just as much as Dustin hurting.

He barely knows you but he finds himself wondering how you got involved in this mess with The Upside Down? How long exactly has Eddie been dead?

Eyes sweeping over the room, he finds a calendar with the date on it. November 30th 1986.

Eight months. He's been gone just over six months. Fuck. There's a sinking feeling that only grows stronger as he watches Dustin cry.

Dustin in pain makes Eddie's heart ache and he's determined to get back to his human self even more now.

❤️

For a few days, Eddie lays low and naps as much as he can. His injured wing is healing faster than he thought, but no matter how many times he tries to turn back into his human self, it doesn't work.

Then there have been attempts to help you and Dustin realise that he is Eddie. Though realistically there isn't much he can do, he gravitates towards the heavy metal CDs and the D&D figures in Dustin's room, but that doesn't help much.

He nibbles on the fruit and finishes the lot in minutes. Shit, if Uncle Wayne could see him willingly eat fruit... the old man would laugh his ass off. Ideas for his next attempt to reveal himself run through his mind as he watches you read on the bed and squeaks to get your attention.

You grin as you make your way over to him, "You're lucky you're cute. You're so noisy; I don't know how Mom hasn't found you yet, especially with Tews on the prowl" You gently pat his little head, then groan as the doorbell rings.

All is silent for a few seconds then he hears arguing at the front door and pauses eating. Since he's feeling a lot better, he manages to fly out of your room to see what's happening.

Paul Davids is at your door, Eddie remembers him as one of Jason's friends. Which makes Eddie ponder what happened to Carver during the earthquake? Maybe that's something he can find out whenever he turns back into a human.

Judging from the argument you're having with Paul, it's about you turning him down for a date. Eddie watches and feels a growing sense of irritation aimed at the douchebag.

Dustin appears at the doorway and Eddie squeaks to get Dustin's attention. *Douchebag alert, huh dude?* well, that's what he would say if Dustin could understand him and Dustin nodded along like he did.

"Tell me about it, total douchebag" Paul glares at Dustin but you push him out the door before he can say anything. Eddie flies over to you and perches himself on your shoulder.

"What the fuck? Is that a bat?" Paul gawks at him and you scowl, attempting to close the door.

"None of your business, Now leave me the hell alone. I'm not interested so I don't know why you keep showing up" Eddie stills when Paul's eyes flash and he grabs your arm which causes you to yelp.

The anger that's been slowly building explodes; Paul is saying something else, but Eddie can't hear him; one minute, he's flying around the butthead and squeaking furiously, and then the next, he blacks out for a few seconds. When he comes too he's in his own body for the first time in days.

"Did you not hear her, or do I need to knock some sense into you, asshole?" he snaps; Paul goes as white as a sheet and runs away from the door, screeching. "Ghost! Ghost!"

He's human again. Thank fuck, he's never been so happy to be in his own body.

Silence engulfs the hallway, Dustin is staring at him in shock. It's your reaction that startles him. You shriek and nearly brain Eddie with a lamp which he narrowly avoids.

"What the fuck. I swear if this is some beyond-the-grave shit from Vecna I will personally kick his Grinch-looking ass back to hell" Eddie snorts at your description then ducks another attack by the lamp.

"No, shit. It's me. It's Eddie. I was the bat; I woke up in The Upside Down and escaped its destruction, passed out a few times and woke up to find out that I was a fucking bat"

Dustin stirs from his shock and whispers Eddie's name, Eddie nods gently and holds his arms out so Dustin runs into them, his whole body is shaking as he cries into Eddie's shoulder.

"You..you were dead; you died in my arms, Eddie", he sobs, and Eddie fights back his own tears. Instead, he peers over at you and smiles impishly.

"Not going to knock me out with that lamp are you princess?" you slowly put the lamp down while mouthing princess to yourself.

"Never told me your sister was beautiful but deadly, Henderson", he jokes to Dustin, who makes a face; it stops the tears, and he groans.

"Dude, that's my sister. Gross" You meet his gaze and he notices you now look a bit flustered.

"I better call Steve and Hopper and figure out what we are going to do now", Eddie winces, yeah he's figuring he will still have to lay low; there would still be people who thought he was a murderer, even with all the shit that had happened in Hawkins.

"Wait a second... I thought Hopper died last year?" you and Dustin exchange looks and Dustin pats his shoulder.

"Come on buddy, you need to wash up. I'll ask Steve to bring some extra clothes for you. I'll fill you in about Hopper"

Once Eddie is showered he finds clothes that Steve has brought over and dresses as quickly as he can, trying his hardest not to look at the scars that litter his body. He's lucky to be alive so he can deal with some particularly gnarly scarring.

There's so much he has to do, but until his name is cleared, he can't exactly waltz back home to Uncle Wayne, well unless Hopper can clear him. Dustin reassured Eddie that Hop would think of something.

Then another thought occurs to him, shit is the trailer even there anymore? He can't remember much after escaping from The Upside Down, he's so lost in thought that he doesn't hear you come in.

"Hey, you okay Eddie?" you stop mid-sentence and look away from him, suddenly shy. Flushed Eddie pulls on the plain black T-shirt Steve gave him.

"Do they still hurt?" you ask worriedly and he shakes his head. It was more phantom pain than anything else, and the memories. He shudders.

"The memories are the worst part. I can deal with anything else, it's uh...just those moments of sheer terror when I knew I was going to die, the feeling of those things tearing into me" he chokes back a sob and you hurry to him taking his hand and squeezing it tightly.

"It's okay. You're here, you survived. Vecna, everything in The Upside Down is gone. There's nothing to be afraid of now. We're going to get your name cleared, and we can all move on from this shit, not have to worry about constantly being in danger all the time" the two of you settle on the bed; Eddie is still holding your hand; it's a nice feeling, really nice.

"How the hell did you get involved in this shit?" It's something he's been curious about for a while.

"Oh, I've known something was wrong with this town for a while, ever since Will disappeared, everything that happened after that. I always had the suspicion that Dustin was involved and last year confirmed it. I kept waiting for something else to go down, and then Vecna happened... after you died, it was bad, Eddie, really bad. Apocalypse bad"

Shit... Dustin barges into the room and zeros in on you and Eddie holding hands, he rolls his eyes.

"Okay, I'm just so happy you're back, man, that I'm not going to mention you holding hands with my sister...yet. Now come on Hopper and Steve are waiting" Eddie chuckles and stands up, kissing your hand before he goes, mostly just to wind up Dustin.

"Dude...we really need to talk about your tone" he ruffles Dustin's hair and then makes his way to the longue.

Time to face the music. Steve's jaw drops when Eddie walks in, and he swears, "Shit, Eddie dude...if I had any idea you were alive, then I would have never left you down in that shit hole" Eddie shrugs and pats Steve on the shoulder.

"I did die; I just came back to life in some freaky Upside Down twist. Anyway, you miss me, big boy?" He bats his eyes at Steve, who blushes; it was fun to fluster him.

Hopper approaches him and smiles gruffly.

"Okay, kid, let's start on getting you cleared, yeah?"

❤️

For the last few weeks, Eddie has been getting to know you. You were quick-witted, funny and beautiful. He had been trying hard not to fall for you but it was a losing battle. Steve teased him relentlessly whenever Eddie would blush in your presence.

You were a Wiz at D&D having passed on all your knowledge to Dustin and when you told him that you had even seen the legend that was Ozzy Osbourne himself on stage, Eddie nearly fell of his seat with excitement.

"Dude, you hid the perfect woman from me all this time?" He moans to Dustin who gags.

"Nope, if you're going to ask out my sister, then please don't turn into one of those cheesy, lovey-dovey couples", Dustin begs him, and Eddie only winks in acknowledgement.

His name is cleared thanks to Hopper and he can just focus on the fact he was given a second chance at life. Mostly he's been spending his time with you, Dustin, Nance, Steve and Robin.

There was a tearful reunion with Wayne before Eddie was shipped off to one of those government hospitals just to make sure that his bites didn't have lasting effects, you know, besides being able to turn into a bat.

He managed to graduate, though he thinks the school was just happy to get rid of him; Hellfire Club was also back in session and hosted at Steve's place once a week. You had joined and had Eddie wrapped around your finger from the first session; he wasn't ashamed to admit it, either.

Eddie smiles shyly at you when you kiss his cheek in greeting; the two of you begin discussing scenarios for the latest campaign while Dustin argues with Steve about what movie to put on for the weekly movie night.

One major thing was on Eddie's mind, he wanted to ask you out. Maybe after surviving death by fucked up bats, he will have the courage to finally ask you soon? He has a sneaking suspicion that you'll say yes.

Two hours later, he finds that suspicion to be true, and Dustin, half disgusted/half pleased, begs Eddie to please refrain from kissing you where he can see it.

Just for that, Eddie plans to kiss you all the time just to gross the little butthead out.

🤭

❤️🦇

[shangqinghuasbiggestfan]

Shang qinghua is someone I love (if you can’t already tell), but he needs to die.

I need a fanfic where Sqh dies in the most horrific brutal way known to man. Even better if it’s in a way that makes people feel bad, like he, idk, got clawed to peices by a verendre-wolf (but an actual thing) because one of the other peaklords wanted to have its fur, but was stupid enough to not do the research before hand, and know that that specific beast has no merchants selling its fur. And that there’s a reason for that.

Because the beast is extremely hard to kill. There’s almost 0 show of the beast ever BEIBG defeated before in the past.

Does Sqh know that? Of course he does. Does he also know that he’s going to get teared into at the next meeting by whatever rich spoiled peak lord told him to get it? You betchya.

Normally, he would have taken Liu qingge, but he was already out with sqq on a hunt. So, being the author, and the only one to know the beasts weakness, decides “fuck it. I can at least try to kill it” (even better if he’s drunk). And he goes. And almost kills it. Just to get his body ripped to shreds.

The news hits the sect hard. The peak lords don’t know what to do. This shidi of theirs, who was always quivering and anxious, who, despite being among them for years, they never knew anything about, was dead. It’s really bad. Liu qingge feels bad, because, like, even if he never liked or understood (tried to understand) the mousy man, he should have atleast been there, right?

Yue qingyuan would feel really bad. He, as sect leader, should have been looking after his shidis and shimeis, but he never bothered with shang Qinghua. He would be lying if he said he had anything of a comrady with thwt man. Shang qinghua was just so nervous, so quiet, that he never really stood out. Yue qingyuan immediately blames himself, and even reprimands himself. -what is that was xiao-jiu-

Sqq is the worst (sy). It takes him a while to even realise. It only occurs to him once, while eating melon seeds and thinking if giving it to sqh, that he remembers- he can’t. Sqh, the only thing that was a way to his previous life, the one person who he could talk too, the only other transmigrator, who understood him and his emotions too a deeper level then anyone else.. was gone. And was never coming back. Sqq, blames Sqh for being stupid enough to get himself killed at first, but soon that turns into “if only I was there” or “it only I helped”- just “if only”’s all about. Because despite it all, sqq did care about that stupid airplane. Of course he did. How could he not?

Mobei jun takes it the worst. After finding out the news, he destroys most of the palace, before locking himself into his room (id imagine this would be before luo binghe falls into the abyss. Let’s say sqq and sqh knew about each other earlier). This human was crafty yet always nervous. He was quiet but smart and constantly proved he had infinite potential and knowledge. And. To be honest. He.. was important to mobei.

Luo binghe knows that his Shishu died. He didn’t particularly know this shishu well, however he did know that sqh was important to his shizun. That has to mean he was a good person. Lbh often asks himself if shizun would be as sad when he died. He knows it’s bad. That he completely just irrelevates this shishu of his.. but he barely knew the man. (Sqq freezes up around lbh all the time. Why does he look and act like sqh so much? Why?)

Sqh, on the other hand, wonders why he’s alive again, but instead of as sqh, he’s in his old straight and red haired body, and yet, still in his book. The system simply says “user 001 had died. Due yk the amount of points he has accumulated and his repeated use of the system, he has been given a second chance without a story line! User has unlocked “the writing of god” storyline! Well done!” And it disappears.

Edit: part 2 :)

[yanderederee]

Baji with 12 if it hasn't already been requested for the writing event

Event prompt12:

“We’ll burn it down and then we’ll build the world again.”

a/n:using the full context for this prompt; this is JD’s way of expressing how he intends to kill the guys who bully Veronica for spreading false rumors about her… and I want in on that👹

got a little too lost in the sauce and couldn’t find a good time for this as a line of text though; so please accept this instead.

cw: extreme bullying, toxic solutions, murder

Baji seriously had enough.

On the first day of school, Baji noticed your pencil drop under your desk, and decided he’d retrieve it for you in passing. You were so grateful for his assistance, completely over the moon with gratitude. It would have been unnerving, had you not been so sincere.

Usually, he wouldn’t give a normal person like you a second thought. But that sweet smile of yours captured him.

Ever since that day, Baji’s had his eyes on you. You were careful in the way you moved and talked, doing your best not to get in anyone’s way, or say the wrong thing. Soft spoken to a fault, but always kind and considerate.

Baji made an effort to talk to you more in class, soon after. You relied on him occasionally, enough to eventually call each other friends. But your relationship was only began to develop… He couldn’t have known about the bullying you experienced whenever he wasn’t around.

You never told anyone about the extent of your mistreatment. You thought it’d go away on its own— that ignoring it and paying it no mind would eventually make you less entertaining to mess with.

It wasn’t so bad… at first. A teasing here, being shoved there.

And Baji had no idea…

—-Until today.

It was just another school day. Cruelly early, bustling with students who were unusually chatty about the latest gossip hanging in the air.

“Are you serious?! That girl from Class-3?! I never would have guessed...”

“It’s always the quiet ones, I guess. Slutting herself out for attention though? How pathetic.”

“She’s not even that cute, you know Takeru just did it with her out of pity.”

“He told me she’d kept begging him for it! How disgusting!”

“Gross! I hope I never have to sit next to that whore ever again~”

‘Jeez, girls these days are so harsh’ Baji thought to himself in passing. Who were they even talking about? Some girl in class-3? That was his class. Well, he doubted he’d know who it was either way.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Upon entering the threshold of his class, Baji was frozen in shock.

It was routine for him to seek you out and chat with you for the first few minutes of class, before the bell rang.

However, instead of being met with your greeting grin, all that remained was a completely destroyed, empty desk.

Your desk.

His blood was boiling.

That was it. He’d seriously fucking had it.

Immediately, Baji looped his arms through the straps of his school bag, and made a B-line for your desk. He picked it up, and held it upside down by the metal bars underneath.

He wasn’t sure if you’d already seen the damage or not, but he decided right then and there no one else fucking would. It was fucking cruel. And he was pissed beyond measure.

“Baji-san! Just where do you think you’re taking that desk?” His teacher hollered after him. “I’m throwing it away!” He yelled back, a seething rage evident in his tone. If the teacher said anything after that, it didn’t even register to Baji.

Baji had a feeling you were aware of the rumors going around. You were always on time to class, so he was sure you’d also seen your classmate’s cruel defacing.

First and foremost, he was throwing this fucking desk away. Then, he’d go looking for you.

He wasn’t sure where to find you, though.

Possibility 1; you never came to school to begin with.

Possibility 2; you went to class as usual, saw the desk, and ran away. It was a toss up between if you went home or stayed on school grounds.

Those were the most likely possibilities he could think of.

Having finally made his way to the school’s dumpster, he took a moment of rest before tossing it in.

If there was one thing to beware of about Baji, it was his blinding hot rage. He’d practiced composing his tempter while in school. He couldn’t let himself lose his cool so easily. Calm down. He had to calm down, especially before he went looking for you…

However, fate had other plans…

Two wanna-be delinquents could be overhead chatting while ditching class behind the dumpster.

“You mean Y/n, right?”

“Yeah that’s the one! Takeru said she almost drew blood with how bad she was at sucking dick!”

“Poor guy. She probably wasn’t any better in bed…”

More Fucking Rumors…

Baji quickly untied his hair, and slipped his glasses into his school bag. If he couldn’t control his tempter, he could at least try to maintain face.

Baji stalked up behind the two punks, the desk dragging behind him in an eerily tight grip. He soon came close enough in distance to lift it single handedly, and slam it over the back of both of their heads.

Before they had time to react to their sudden assault, Baji just kept wailing.

With both hands, he kept swinging the desk up and down.

When they moved to dodge, he swung against the side.

When they tried to move away, he crushed their kneecaps.

When they begged for mercy, he hit harder.

Over and over, until he began to spin out of control. Wild with disgust and hate, the lies they would have spread were eating up all the sanity he had.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

Fuck.

Every.

Last.

One.

Of.

You.

“Pl… se…. … op… st…op—“ whispered out one kid, his last words sputtering past his broken teeth.

Wait, what happened?

Baji had a sudden moment of clarity. Two kids, beaten maybe a little more than half to death, laid motionless before him.

Shit, did he go too far?

When was the last time he blacked out like that?

But the rage circulating in his fists had yet to subside. “You conscious?” He asked his begging victim. The poor boy’s crocodile tears were response enough. “You ever, fucking dare, say another word about Y/n, ever. And I swear to god. I will fucking kill you.”

The punks were left there, barely alive.

Baji felt thankful he hadn’t gotten any blood on his school uniform, before discarding of the bloody desk at the very bottom of the large dumpster container.

He honestly felt a bit grateful to those two. He’d managed to blow off a good amount of steam thanks to their insolence. He took a deep breath, and began wandering the school in silent deliberation over where you may be.

Where were you… home, or school?

He’d figure he’d try his hand at looking over the school first. Careful to avoid any of the hallway monitoring teachers during classes, Baji checked every floor throughly.

Eventually it came down to the roof, or you’d ran home. Usually, the door to the roof would be locked at a normal school. However, Ryusei broke that lock long ago so he’d have constant access to the roof whenever he needed a nap.

Running up the stairs and through the roof door, he searched the area. Lo and behold, there he found you, huddled into yourself with your back against the wall. You were crying, not caring about how loud you may have been.

Finally…

Even though he’d been searching so hard to find you, now that he was actually there… Baji had no idea what to do. What to say. But he had to say something. His heart was breaking just looking at you.

Slowly, Baji made his way closer. You looked up when you heard footsteps, expecting to have been caught by a teacher. Yet you were surprised to instead see Baji, holding back a bitter expression. Quick to wipe away tears, you looked away right after. “S-sorry, I’m not feeling really well… could you please leave?” You asked shakily.

Baji pressed his lips into a line. “I know… I’m sorry I didn’t know sooner,” he said quietly, dropping to his knees in front of you and pulling you into a hug. “It’s okay to cry. Let it out.”

He made sure to hold you tight. Though, even if you had tried to escape his grasp, the overwhelming urge to cry kept you in place, clinging to him even. There, you cried for a good ten minutes or so, unable to suppress the feeling of being so humiliated and hated.

“I-I didn’t… I didn’t do anything t-that they’re saying I d-did… it’s all lies…” you sobbed into his chest. Baji knew that. He knew it. Hell, even if it was true, he’d still feel this same way.

“It’s okay, I know. You won’t have to worry about that anymore.” Baji spoke clearly, lifting your face to look him in the eyes. “I’ll make sure they apologize, and take back everything they said about you.”

“I promise, they’ll pay for the things they’ve said and done to you. No one will ever think of you in that way ever again.”

Baji promised you with fire in his eyes. While his expression would be scary to most, you couldn’t help the way your heart beat out of its chest at his words.

You were quiet for a while, wide and doe eyed under Baji’s meaningful gaze. “How… do you plan to do that…?” You asked.

Happy to see his declaration helped ease the sadness in your heart, he smiled, and kissed the crown of your head. “Don’t worry about that. Just know by tomorrow morning, everything will be back to the way it was.”

You weren’t sure why, but those words comforted you deeply. You didn’t really believe he was capable of something like that, but his intentions were enough. You smiled back at him, and nodded. “Sure,” you agreed absentmindedly. “Thank you.”

Baji felt as though for the first time since he’s met you, things felt right. You in his arms, smiling, relying on him, holding him back. This feeling he had been unfamiliar with, this whole time, was Love.

As soon as he came to the conclusion, that he loved you. Something in Baji shifted. A creature he had no idea lived inside him suddenly started making itself known.

How could they do this— to someone so undeserving of their malice? Who would ever dare to hurt someone as sweet as you?

It was an extraordinary wrong that they’d committed against you. One that couldn’t go unpunished. He hated them. Wanted them dead. Would kill them. That was the only way to make things right, he began to think.

“Come on, let’s go.” Baji said softly, helping you to your feet. You looked up at him inquisitively. “We’re ditching.” He clarified, offering you a mischievous grin.

Normally, skipping school would be against both your wishes. However, given the circumstances … You grinned back with puffy eyes. You took his hand, and together you snuck out of the school with no trouble.

Having snuck out to a nearby diner, you both enjoyed each other’s company. You two always got along well, his sarcastic remarks were somehow easy for you to read, and kept you fueled with engaging conversation.

Baji seemed like he could be the awkward sort around girls, but in truth, he simply had no interest in getting close with anyone. Only you.

It made you feel better, feel special in a way.

The day had started off in the worst way possible, but now, laughing to the point of tears with the person you liked the most, everything felt like it really would be alright….

Baji glanced at the clock, noticing how many hours had passed by so quickly. “We got one more stop to make before I walk ya home, sound good?”

You nodded at him simply, smiling wide.

… So why were you walking back towards the school?

“Uh, Baji? Where are we going..?” You asked nervously. Baji squeezed your hand reassuringly, throwing a grin your way. “Don’t worry, just trust me.”

And so you did. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves, and put your trust in the person you liked so much.

Standing off in a nearby alleyway just a few streets over from the school, Baji told you to wait behind as he stood at the alleys entrance, scanning students as they passed by, not giving him a second glance.

Soon, a familiar group of voices made your throat close up with anxiety.

“I still can’t believe you actually slept with Y/n! You sure you ain’t infected with her creepiness?”

“Hahaha! As if. It’s nice not having to see her gloomy face at school anymore though.”

“You’re the man, Takeru! Next time, invite me, Kay? I’d—“

Suddenly, there was no more outspoken foul voice speaking. “Mm? Suiren? Oi! Suiren!”

Quiet for a moment, Takeru could hear an unfamiliar thudding should come from the nearby alley.

Baji’s first punch was enough to knock the boy out cold, yet one after the other, Baji’s fist threw punches more fierce than the last.

Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die—

“Wh-what the hell..!”

Baji’s head turned eerily slow, as he watched his friend get beaten in horror. Blood and hair stuck like glue against his cheek. Before Takeru could run or scream, Baji dropped the unconscious boy, and wrapped one large and bloody hand across his face.

“Shut the fuck up. That is, unless you want to die right now.” Baji threatening voice cut deeper than bone, dragging the two boys deeper into the alley and away from prying gazes.

Takeru doesn’t dare take his chances. Obediently, he nodded vigorously, putting his hands up in defense while holding back tears. Whiling scanning the area for a means of escape once his chance came, he quickly spotted a small form not too far off, frozen and wide eyed.

You.

Oh shit, he began connecting the dots.

“Takeru Izukura, right?” Baji asked. His victim wasn’t eager to confirm this. Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t a smart move. Tightening the death grip he had on Takeru’s skull, Baji shoved him against the wall, and began ramming his fist into his stomach.

How could someone be strong enough to crack a person’s rib in just one punch? Takeru couldn’t help the pathetic yells that ripped through his throat. As desperately as he wanted to cry his apologies out now, it was impossible to so much as breath with all the air being knocked out of him with every one of Baji’s outrageous punches.

All the pent up rage Baji had been saving was finally making itself known. The events of the day began flooding his mind with white rage. The desk. The rumors. Your tears. All of it. He gritted his teeth so hard he could feel a molar chip.

All because of this asshole. Only a few minutes ago he was laughing about your severe mistreatment, and only now wanted to apologize? Even if he did want to hear his excuses and sputtered sorrows, it wouldn’t be honest. It’d have been reactive.

You stood frozen at Baji’s brutal assault. You had half a mind to step in and stop this whole mess, but after catching a clear glimpse of Takeru’s face… you gulped.

“B-… Baji.” You called out quietly. Upon hearing your voice, Baji immediately stopped. Blood soaking his knuckles and face, he looked your direction, an unreadable expression on his face.

Should he feel shame for letting you see him like this? Maybe he should, but nothing like that came to surface. After your call, all he felt was attentive. He waited for you, as you moved closer, looking his victim in the eyes.

“I want… to hear what kind of apology you have to say.” You combed through your words carefully. You felt hatred for him, but had he given a sincere apology, maybe you could forgive him.

Takeru looked at you, warily. “It’s your fault I’m in this position in the first place—“ he tried reminding you, but a heavy fist broke his nose in response. “Try again asshole.” Baji warned.

Your bully sobbed. “I’m sorry! I fuc-cking sorry, okay! I won’t make shit like that up again!! I swear!”

You felt bile rise in your throat. “That’s it?” You asked, waiting only a few moment for a response. When he looked at you expectingly, you grew angry.

“You don’t even remember the half of what you’ve done to me, do you…” you chocked on tears you didn’t want to surface. “How about a sorry for tripping me down the stairs the first time we met? An apology for ‘jokingly’ pushing me against the desk, and flipping my skirt up for all your buddies to see?” You began listing ways he’d fucked up. His face went pale, now under two sets of hostile eyes.

“That so?” Baji’s deep tone only sent the beaten boy into a cold sweat. “W-wait! I’m sorry for that too, okay! R-really!”

But he wasn’t. Not really. He was just sorry he was caught.

“I don’t give a damn what happens to you. Whatever happens is what you deserve.” You swallowed hard, and took a step back. “Baji…” you drew your gaze back to him and his blank eyes. You didn’t know what to say.

But he understood just fine. “Leave this to me.”

[dilfdater420]

listen this has been in my head for awhile,, Cecil with an assistant who's battle beasts daughter(half alien/half human, so she has a beast form and human form)- now listen, reader isn't much of a fighter, espically after her whole childhood being in a crime ring and going to jail and such- but for Cecil? she'll fight. If he wants her to fight, she does. When he calls her to heel, she does. It's pretty much like an assistant/bodyguard. If you're inspired, could you do some headcanons based on this? romantic or platonic is fine with me! :3

Hey Anon! This is super cool! I love the idea. Feel free to request more and expand on it if you have ideas afterwards because I feel like this is an interesting dynamic to be explored, I'm so serious I'm invested

I’ll make the reader gender neutral though because that’s honestly how I write LOL.

#dilfdater420 : Cecil Stedman x Half Human!Half Alien!Reader who’s Battle Beasts’ kid. little --romantic?? platonic?? idk they're complicated-- headcanons post, feel free to request more from me! more under the cut

Cecil, at first, found you as a means to an end. Something to use to his advantage, and to be evenly matched with Invincible at least. Cecil remembers the damage your own father did to the kid, to have that kind of power even on a small scale at his beck and call could reap bountiful results for himself and the world if Invincible decided to jump ship or worse, Viltrum uses its force and Mark isn't enough.

He found you through intel that there was a powerful threat on Earth that needed to be dealt with from an unknown source. He expected it to be a trap and sent two of the Guardians and himself, finding it to be an actual report.

But the one fault with the report was that it wasn't completely true. You were this defensive, clingy thing that jumped on the man as soon as he outstretched a hand to shake. You were weeping, had almost gave Cecil a heart attack and set his hairline a foot back, but he ended up returning the embrace and awkwardly cuddling you.

This was the beginning of an imprint. After going back to the GDA, never parting with the hand that reached to you in the process, you were put through a series of tests and then therapy. That's where the story of child abuse and violence devolved, and the knowledge that you were the spawn of Battle Beast. After that, Cecil was a lot less annoyed by your closeness, in fact, he banked on it.

With you acclimated enough to be normal and not freak out when you two were separated, Cecil had you become his left hand.

You got his coffee, was something he could air his frustrations to--and no one would ever find out, debriefed him on the current state of the world every morning, and was ready to die if he so little as suggested the notion. It was a match made in heaven, but a high maintenance one.

You talked a lot whenever you could, curious about everything. You were definitely not a child, but incredibly childish. You'd just reach out for anything, Donald even had to make a habit of slapping your hand before you got hurt.

Not to mention, living together? His personal space sacrificed for the good of the world. He doesn't get paid enough.

You improve Cecil's home situation in some circumstances. He could wake up to the kitchen sink once clad with utensils in the aftermath of eating takeout too many times for it to be healthy suddenly clean and tidy. How'd you know he wanted it to be cleaned without telling you? He sighed at it when you first moved in while showing you around.

On the flipside, you could also destroy Cecil's couch and decorative pillows with your claws because you think the sound of fabric ripping is satisfying.

Now, the final question is, how are you faring well as an actual bodyguard? Yes you come from a strong parent, but your actual combat skills and specs lack in comparison, sizably so. You were never much of a fighter and it showed. Yes you could meet Invincible at his level and probably overpass him with a burst of thirst for blood, but an actual Viltrumite?

Despite this, you were good enough for Cecil, so he kept you. Everything cog has a use, and Cecil has gotten really good at seeing which peg a gear can fit in. He's the Global Defense Force Director after all.

#a/n : I hope you liked this, I'm operating on smoke right now I haven't slept since Saturday haha. Forgive me for any grammer/syntax errors charge it to my head not my heart

This turned into something way longer than I thought it would. But you can't stop until the words and you reach this equilibrium of satisfaction. I could go further but then I think I'd fumble it. Better to stop while you're good and come back later yknow

Ok me go sleep sleep **passes out

[soap-ify]

nsfw below , mdni.

YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader.

02 — you believe me like a god, i destroy you like i am.

chapter summary — after chaos broke out during your work, simon attempts to comfort you in his own way.

tags / cw — angst, reader almost has a panic attack, reactions from bad anxiety, reader is yelled at, verbal assault, violence (simon beats someone up), tending to wounds i don't know how that thing works, just reader and simon being awkward, simon is very self aware, smut 18+, outercourse, grinding through clothes, p in v. [3.8k words]

☆ reader written with afab anatomy but gender neutral terms.

masterlist | ao3 | prev | next

If you had the choice to disappear into the void, you would.

The cafe was quite crowded, which was a good thing for the place but not so welcoming for you. The customers kept on rushing in, rambling out orders while you hastily gave them their stuff while trying your best to not mess anything up. You knew the others were working just as much as you, and you didn’t want to seem selfish by thinking that you were having it the worst out there.

Though your brain truly was horribly overwhelmed with the amount of faces in this small cafe. The heat made your head throb, causing you to rub your hands over your face and take a few deep breaths, afraid that you’d break down in front of everyone, feeling your palms getting clammy. It was so hard to keep your voice controlled and polite while talking to the others, making sure that it didn’t crack.

You despised busy days.

Simon was sitting alone at the far edge seat inside the cafe, a cup of bitter black coffee on the table while his brown eyes blankly stared at you, observing your struggles that you seemingly masked quite well in front of others, but well, not for him.

The rest of the taskforce wasn’t here today since it wasn’t a weekend, and normally Simon himself would have never willingly come over at a crowded place like this. But he was feeling too restless in his apartment. Maybe he just needed fresh air. His mind kept on making dumb excuses, even though he was fully aware that he just wished to see you.

Plus it was always somewhat comforting knowing that he would keep you safe.

You were aware of him, aware of his eyes on you and words couldn’t describe how grateful you were. It was as if his familiar presence was the only thing keeping you sane during this shift, knowing that once this was over, you could talk to him if he’d let you.

You had just given the person standing in the front of the queue their coffee, watching them leave before the other person came at the front — some guy who was probably around your age, looking at you with a wolfish grin plastered on his lips that sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine.

“What would you like, sir?” You asked politely, fumbling with the fabric of your apron behind the counter, thankfully hidden from everyone’s sight. Inhale, exhale.

“A large cup of espresso, sugar.” That man replied, the pet name causing you to internally grimace. Fucking disgusting.

You silently nodded and went back to go over to the coffee machine, only to find out that one of the ingredients had run out. Today truly was your unlucky day.

A wave of panic shot over you as you walked over to the counter once more, facing that man. “I-I am sorry, sir… It seems like the espresso can’t be made due to the shortage of some stuff…” You were unable to hold in the little stammer in your words this time, your breath hitching at the way some anger began making its way over to that man’s face, his mood taking a huge swing. Volatile.

It scared, no, terrified you to see someone angry over something you said. It reminded you of your own parents, reminded you of things you no longer had wished to recall at this point.

“Fuck you mean shortage? What kind of cafe is this?!” The man snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at you, his seething rage causing you to freeze on your spot. Fuck, everyone was looking. You hated this — hated the way you flinched at his loud voice, hated the way everyone was staring at you, silence taking over the cafe before soft murmurs could be heard here and there. Gossiping about this.

As if this was just a joke to them, as if all of this was normal.

“I-I understand your anger, sir… But—” Your words were cut off by his impatient slam on the counter. Your eyes widened and everything for a second seemed too silent, too unbearable. Don’t panic, don’t panic…

“You useless slag. Why don’t you just quit this job and—”

“Fucking get off her, you bastard.” A large hand grabbed the strange man’s collar and shoved him out of your sight, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Simon. You had almost forgotten that he was here too. Another wave of humiliation and helplessness hit you as you just stood there, feeling like a weak idiot.

You didn’t even have to speak, not that you were going to, before Simon pulled the man back up on his feet. “You. Come with me.” He growled and dragged the man out of the cafe, leaving behind an unsettling thick layer of silence caused by the commotion. Over a fucking coffee.

Everyone saw it. Everyone saw you getting yelled at. Everyone saw you being fucking useless.

You soon realised that tears had begun blurring your vision, causing you to hastily undo your apron and scurry off into the staff room.

Simon had that horrendous man thrown into an eerily quiet alley with no one in sight except them both.

“Who do you think you’re messing with?” He growled under his breath, fingers curled up into fists, knuckles a bit bruised and bleeding after having repeatedly punched the man on his face, resulting in a broken nose and some broken teeth. Honestly deserved worse.

Simon didn’t know why he was so angry. He just hated seeing you already on the edge before this man just came in and messed everything up. How dare he yell at you? Scumbag. Simon wanted to spit at him and throw him in the bin like the fucking garbage he was, but he knew that someone could always walk by even in an isolated alley like this and he definitely didn’t want unnecessary attention.

Adrenaline was coursing through Simon’s veins and he could hear the blood rushing into his ears. He looked scary above the man, brown eyes wide and deadly. The fact that his face was covered in that balaclava made him look all the more inhuman.

Thank goodness you weren’t here to witness this.

In Simon’s mind, this was who he really was. Roughened up and turned into this rageful mess after years of brutal training and even worse missions. Trained like a fucking dog. Maybe that was what he was. A dog. Not a human, just a pathetic dirty thing who only knew the worst, who only knew the wrongs.

He was his own poison, killing himself on his own.

With one last kick on the stomach, Simon left the man to weep alone in the alley. He didn’t have to deal with someone like that anymore, all he could think was of you and how you probably were feeling right now.

Your manager had luckily let you end your shift early today, albeit still having scolded you for creating such a ruckus inside the cafe. For ruining a nice busy day. It made your throat tighten, making you feel as if everyone was blaming you for this. Maybe it really was your fault.

You silently stood outside the cafe, staring down at your hands that were clasped together, your fingers visibly trembling. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to clear the fog in your head. Your moment of silence was broken by the familiar sound of soft footsteps nearing you.

Yes, you had memorised his footsteps. You knew everyone’s, actually. And his were your favourite — oddly soft and quiet, juxtaposing to what you initially expected from someone of his size. He was probably very skilled in sneaking up behind the people.

Simon silently stood besides you, not uttering a word. For a whole minute, it was just silence between you, your eyes nervously darting around before landing on his hands that were uncharacteristically not covered in his usual gloves that he wore all the time except for when you both were all alone.

And that’s when you noticed it, his bleeding knuckles.

“Simon…” You breathed out in panic, voice laced with concern as your eyes repeatedly shot back and forth between his face and his hands. What the fuck happened?

“Didn’t want my gloves getting dirty.” He mused gruffly, his eyes slowly looked down at you, causing you to knit your brows even more.

“He’s not gonna bother you again, love. No one is.” He finally mumbled after a few seconds, one hand of his reaching out to gently ruffle your hair. He really wasn’t bothered by the mild cuts on his knuckles. In fact, he really didn’t care. He wasn’t even thinking of bandaging it.

“Let’s go to my place.” You urged him, lips a bit pouty while worry was etched over your face.

He couldn’t help but find you adorable.

Once you both reached your apartment, you were quick to push him onto the couch and hastily grab a first aid kit, scurrying over to sit beside him on the couch.

“Show me your hands.” You mumbled softly, causing him to reluctantly let your gentle hands hold his callused, larger hands. What a contrast. He felt guilty for making you hold such a dirty, damaged thing.

You were quick to clean up his hands, carefully touching the cuts with the cotton pads. You didn’t even want to imagine what Simon was capable of. Your eyes scanned his hands carefully, admiring every scar on his skin.

You never really thought much of it. Sure you knew that he was in the military, always doing some sort of highly dangerous work. But you never really saw that side of his — scary one. So it was fairly easy to forget his real strength until moments like these came to remind you. Though you never really disliked him for it.

You don’t think you could ever dislike him. He was just… everything.

Ever since you both have come to your place, all you could think about was how he stood up for you. You didn’t like pity, but the fact that someone cared, especially if that someone was Simon, made you feel all the more warmer aside.

He did care for you, right? Were you too fond of him? Too in awe of him?

You dabbed some antiseptic on the cuts before applying some cute panda bandaids on his knuckles. He stared at them questionably, brows furrowed though an amused scoff soon escaped his lips behind the mask. “You don’t own normal bandaids?”

“These are normal!” You grumbled, blood rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Just kiddin’... They are cute like you.”

You got up to put the kit away and wash your hands before coming back to sit besides him, pulling your knees to your chest, silence filling the room up once more.

Simon could see how you were still shaken up, the frown etched on your face accentuating the storm of thoughts raging inside your head. It made his heart ache, though he didn’t move a muscle at all, silently staring at you from the corner of his.

He didn’t know how to comfort you at all.

All he knew was how to handle guns and beat up people. All he knew was how to ignite a sense of terror within people.

Simon didn’t want to think of himself as a monster, the word alone making him think of no one other than his father. He wasn’t that man, he wasn’t.

He sighed behind his balaclava after a while and shuffled a bit closer to you on the couch, his arm brushing against yours.

Your body tensed up for a second, and he was just about to back away once he sensed it before you eventually relaxed and leaned into him, a trembling sigh escaping your lips. He was warm, and you couldn’t help but think of him as a blanket that was shielding you from the world. A protector. Though he really wasn’t that, right? What even was he to you?

You didn’t want to think of that right now, not when your brain was already so exhausted after everything that happened today, the little bit of confidence you had already shattered.

Simon’s hand slowly snaked behind your back, drawing lazy discreet circles on your waist through the fabric of your shirt. You could make out some of them — a circle, then a star, then some random incomprehensible shape that he probably just made up on the spot and then a star again. This act of his made you smile a bit, your eyes fluttering up to look at him, only to find him looking back at you.

You had caught him staring at you multiple times before, but this moment felt so different — more cozy and intimate. It made your heart skip a beat, your brain feeling all foggy due to the sudden wave of happiness shooting within you.

Simon probably noticed the change in the air too since his hand was quick to pull back and settle on his lap, fingers drumming on his thigh, pretending as if nothing happened. It left you confused, disappointed even, but more so at yourself then at him. Why were you making every little interaction with him such a big deal? He didn’t like you the way you liked him.

Simon was silent for a while, multiple thoughts going on within his head. His large hand slowly drifted towards you once more, this time towards your thigh, fingers absent-mindedly caressing you. Well, he could comfort you in the way he knew of.

Your body was quick to react to his touch, your breath hitching while you were simultaneously a bit embarrassed of how you were so used to his touch, used to the way his caresses would make you squirm. You could already pick up on his intention behind this, to somehow get your mind off whatever happened in your job today.

“C’mere, love…”

His callused hands pulled you onto his lips with ease, holding onto your hips, your face facing his, eyes meeting. You swear you could feel the world slowing down every time your eyes would meet his, his stare alone coaxing you to lean into him, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck while your fingers curled up into the fabric of the large grey hoodie he was wearing.

“I’ll take care of you. I promise.” His gruff voice came out as a whisper, making your heart swell yet ache at the same time. Yes, please take care of me, these words repeated over and over in your head while you sheepishly nodded against his neck.

His hands were quick to work, not letting you do a single thing, lifting your hips up gently as he slid down your pants, carefully removing them all the way down, letting it drop to the ground. Your hands reached down in attempted to undo his pants, though he just lightly smacked your hands away and shook his head, huffing softly as he unbuckled the belt and unzipped his pants on his own, tugging them alongside his boxers just a bit so his cock was free from the restraints, already semi-hard.

Your mouth watered at the familiar sight that always made you all heated up and blustered, blood rushing to your cheeks while your eyes stared down at his cock, admiring the veins that adorned it. It was just perfect — girthy and uncut.

“Simon…” A meek whine left your lips while your eyes literally pleaded him to do something, anything to just somehow make your mind empty, to let you forget about everything, to let you pretend that everything was fine. Pretend that you were with him.

His cock twitched at the noise you made, one hand of his tight gripping your hip in position while his other hand gently grabbed the base of his cock, beginning to rub the head against your clothed cunt, watching the way a wet patch was forming on your panties.

“D-Don’t tease me like this!” You grumbled, nibbling on your bottom lip as you felt the swollen head of his now hardened up cock bumping against your clothed clit, making your hips bucking towards him, desperate for more.

“Don’t nibble your lip like that, love. You’re gonna bruise it.” He breathed out, his eyes falling onto your lips that looked so kissable, making him clench his jaw behind that balaclava of his. No, he couldn’t kiss you.

He continued to play with you like this, rubbing and smearing his precum on your panties, continuing to grind against your clothed cunt, ruining this pair of panties. You mentally noted that you should buy some new ones this weekend.

It wasn’t until a few moments later that you started to feel the familiar tight knots building in your abdomen, a soft whimper leaving your lips while your fingers tightened around the fabric of his hoodie, desperately grinding back against his clock. “P-Please, please, Si… So close, pl—”

He stopped, gently pushing you slightly backwards on his lap so his cock was no longer touching you. A frustrated sob left your lips as you glared at him in confusion, eyes all glossy and he couldn’t help but grin behind his mask, noticing how adorable you looked like this. He already knew that he had successfully distracted you from your thoughts. He knew this wasn’t the ideal way. Hell, he should have actually cuddled with you and shared some comforting words. But fuck, he can’t. He shouldn’t. He is already being selfish enough with this whole thing you two have going on, and he definitely doesn’t want to risk progressing into something more.

He was a fucking asshole, he knew it. He knew of how he didn’t deserve you, and you definitely didn’t deserve a broken, fucked up in the head man like him. You deserved better.

But you two were already so far into this, weren’t you?

“Ssh, don’t worry. Gonna make you cum properly.” He assured you, gently pulling you into him once more, his fingers pushing your panties aside and giving your throbbing clit a few sweet rubs before positioning the head of his twitching cock in front of your entrance, looking at you while you were looking down at the spot your bodies were about to be connected at, literally swooning.

“Please…” You pleaded, feeling his cock gently smear your slick all over your folds before beginning to gently push into your tightness, a quiet grunt leaving his lips at the way you clenched around you, still struggling to fully get used to the way his girth would stretch you out. Your head fell onto his shoulder, panting softly as you tried to relax, feeling him slide into you slowly, inch by inch until he was fully snug inside your tight cunt, the cloth of your panties gently grazing against the side of his shaft.

“Takin’ me so well, aren’t ya? Always do. That pretty cunt of yours is so perfect.” He praised hoarsely into your ears, his affectionate words driving you over the edge, feeling him begin to lazily fuck his cock in and out of your fluttering cunt, hitting the spongy spots inside you with ease, as if having them all memorised within his head. Shaky moans would leave your lips at the blissful feeling, eyes rolling back into your head once you felt the head of his cock slam against your cervix, him making sure that it wasn’t painful at all. His hand massaged your hip gently, fondling the flesh and gently guiding you to grind against him while his other hand slid in between your connected bodies, caressing the moist skin of your thigh before moving in between to lightly rub your clit, feeling you clenching around him tightly.

You felt fuzzy, leaning into him fully to let his warmth relax you, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against you while your eyes fluttered shut, head fully nuzzled into his neck. You felt the knots building up again, even stronger this time, leaving you with no time to warn him before your orgasm washed over you hard, your walls spasming around him while a muffled moan left your lips, his fingers rubbing your clit just heightening up your sensitivity. He breathed heavily, his eyes filled with adoration at the way you cummed around his cock, his shaft having a white ring around him, filling his heart with a sickeningly proud feeling at the realisation that only he was capable of making you cum so hard, of making you get rid of all those thoughts.

His own orgasm flooded within him soon after, balls tightening up as he pulled his cock out of your cunt and gave it a few pumps, spraying the thick strings of his cum all over your sweaty, trembling thighs.

Both of you were breathing heavily, tingles spreading through your skin that made you smile at how full of pleasure you felt right now, all floaty as you fully collapsed onto him, clinging onto his tight while his sticky cock rested against your inner thigh, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your lower back.

“Si… Thank you so much…” You sleepily babbled, your breathing getting calmer.

He wished that he could show you the stupid smile that was spread on his face right now.

“I am goin’ to go for deployment after two days.”

He randomly announced that night, causing you to freeze and look away from the movie you both were watching and towards him, eyes all wide. What the fuck? And here you were being happy that he had decided to stay with you tonight, having agreed to spend some time with you.

You were making it all up, all this happiness and whatever feelings and signals you thought you were getting from him. Deployment. God, you hated that word and the way it filled you with dread, the way it always left you all anxious during the weeks he’d be away, fighting god knows who, literally a mistake away from walking on a bridge from life to death.

“How long…?” You quietly asked, trying not to seem so fazed by his sudden words, fingers fiddling with your shirt while your eyes looked away.

“Dunno… I believe it won’t be longer than two weeks. Don’t worry, love.” He mumbled after a while, subtle warmth lingering in his voice as his hand reached to gently caress the back of your head, causing you to sigh softly and lean into him, frowning a bit.

“Okay… Stay safe, Si.”

You trust him. Of course you do.

Liar. Fucking liar. It had been three weeks, three weeks without any contact from him, or any news from him. He wasn’t on this mission with Kyle as far as you knew, so there was no point in asking him.

Was Simon safe? Was he wounded? Did he get captured? Did he get tired of you? Is he finally getting rid of you? Is he… abandoning you?

You tried to shake these thoughts off your mind, trying to remember that his job was a hard one. Still, you stupidly kept grabbing your phone, desperate for any notification or noise.

Only to be met with silence.

notes : thank you so much for the support on the previous chapter :( !! i feel truly grateful. also... feeling evil i love fucking stuff up for simon.

[toto-the-cactus]

Like the similar scenario of Roboute reuniting with his daughter after awakening that thornsorcery proposed, but with Lion returning and see his daughter again. How it would be?

(Considering that she wasn't in Caliban when it was destroyed and stayed in the Rock. Sometimes visiting her father, waiting for him to wake up and seeing him age. Also having to live though the Imperium's decay)

Now, you see... I don't try to be nice when I write my stuff. I just love angst and now you will be subjected to my derangement.

Lion is the kind of man that would think coddling will end up weakening his daughter to the point of uselessness. When I meant 'Tough Love' I mean 'REAL TOUGH'. Tbf, I think @jaghatai-khock is the one that nailed it best when portraying Lion being a shit papa (go read his shit. He write so damn cool and the story I'm refering to is titled Ghost Of You). By the time the mf wants to do anything that was supposed to be NORMAL between his child and him its like "Bitch, you broke that kid, what else did you expect?". It's as usual where the most dutiful and less humane Primarchs suffer from the consequences of their actions.

Now, considering that the daughter of Lion wasn't sent that far and managed to stay close to The Rock, I like to hope that the Dark Angels didn't turned out as badly as they originally did. Yeah, they still are ridiculously paranoiac but their admiration and respect to their Primarch helps the now young woman to reel them back to their destructive destructive behavior. Sadly, the natural distrust that the Dark Angels seemed to develop post-heresy also ends up being rubbed into Lion's Daughter too, so there's no winning here.

This is mostly me being a mean bitch by throwing more angst, so I like to pretend that the sudden change of Lion trying to act like a REAL father after waking up from the stasis it's because he sometimes had dreams of what he thought was his happy memories with his beloved and his daughter and not the trauma he dumped on his child so she could become a soldier of the Imperium. Ya know like... when some parents imagine that they gave you a very happy childhood each time they tell stories and you're just like "when the fuck? Between the moments of silent judgement or loud disapproving comments?", that kind of vibe.

Then Lion wakes up from his long dreams and nightmares (ones where he not only loses his daughter in the battlefield but she also hates his guts too) only to discover that not only the Imperium is going to shits but the little girl he was expecting to try and show how much he loves her in a better form is not only a very jagged soldier that has been helping her mother to lead the Dark Angels, but apparently she and Guilliman seem to have a better parent/child relationship than he ever had with her.

You snooze you lose, Lion.

Have a wonderful day, anon