#cruelty is a sign of weakness

[scottguy]

Real men lift others.

Barack Obama still has it.

#RealStrength

[pentaghast]

hmmhmhm trying to decide how long roan wouldve known gortash bc i want to know if they knew about karlach

[colorisbyshe]

Hind is constantly tweeting about being overwhelmed and hopeless. Bisan is sharing videos of children dying--literally someone trying to give a child chest compressions before giving up, the camera lingering on the child's limp, dead body. Today, Motaz posted video of his bombed out neighborhood--footage of a hand that does not end in an arm but ends in frayed and tattered meat. His neighborhood lost 45 people, his cousin also died.

His last tweet, 16 minutes ago, is him in the rain, the caption begs for the genocide to stop. "Please god, stop this."

Things have been dire and are getting more bleak. Using these people as inspiration porn--repeated lines of "Palestinians haven't lost hope, so we shouldn't other"--grows useless as it is clear it is very hard for them to manage hope. Hind has flat out admitted to being overwhelmed and losing feeling. The dead child, whose face was drenched in blood, cannot hope. It is not their fault, it isn't a matter of them not trying enough. It is a sign of Israel's cruelty.

How bad it is gotten--how much worse it is getting as Israel faces little resistance from the international community, as lack of food and medical care and sanitation spreads disease, how much the rain and cold sucks out the capacity to do anything other than survive and stress--means we should push harder. Fueled by righteous fury at injustice and needless suffering, not human beings turned into mascots, we must push and pull things harder until the system of suffering breaks.

I don't even know what that means. Every call to action feels so pathetically weak in the wake of all of this. But we must figure out what pushing harder means and fast.

Every day spent doing nothing or the bare minimum is more lives lost, more hope lost.

[loveemagicpeace]

Astrology Observations🪐

Men with capricorn placements or 10th house have a more paternal approach and fatherly qualities. They try to be good fathers. They embody this energy much more than others. They are very caring and do a lot for their children. They will almost always accept responsibility.

Capricorn placements have hard time letting thing and people go cuz they know that one they will let go they will not go back to that. its like a rule that they have.

Capricorn is associated with the seagoat, which means that he also has a lot of emotions hidden behind his cold nature. No one really knows how many difficult things they have experienced, because they always hide a part of themselves inside that they don't show to everyone (sometimes to no one). They know how to go through problems alone and usually do not talk about them until they are resolved. They can be much more secretive than scorpions. One thing that Capricorns will never express is that they are having a hard time or that they need help. They are taught to go through life on their own and overcome difficulties along the way. They are used to cruelty and a cruel world. They are vulnerable people inside, but they rarely show this side to anyone. They don't want to appear weak. Capricorns are very lonely people inside. Legend has it that "the seagoat lived with his children and warned them to stay in the water, but they went to the city." So the goat grew up in its loneliness and later died" that's why goats are used to being alone. Capricorns suffer in silence.

It isn't always easy for Rising-Capricorns to show their feelings, though powerful feelings do exist. You love deeply, are loyal and protective, and go out of your way to do kind deeds for others. However, you are often torn by jealousy and resentment (which you hide), and down deep you never really forgive someone who does you an injury.

U always have to look for mars sign in person chart to see how much effort they will put into something/ anything. Cuz mars is the way u act and react on things. What u will do about it and also how u fight. For ex.: mars in sagittarius have a fiery reaction to their surroundings and to the things that happen around them. And they are also very persistent. Mars in libra have very peaceful response. They do a lot for the relationship.

Being born on the cups means u have some tendencies of other sign. For ex.: libra sun born on 18-22 oct. have tendencies of scorpio which means that they will be much more intense, deep. You have magnetic personal charm. Your sensuality attracts others, even when you are not aware of it. U can also be more controling. Libra sun born from sept. 23 - sept 27 have more tendencies of virgo. You are people-oriented and possess a talent for making others like you. You would like to keep your emotions on an even keel, but you tend to be either enthusiastically happy or else dejected over some little thing going wrong. Love makes you feel fulfilled, and you are probably flirtatious.

For your health you have to look at your sun and opposite sign of your sun, rising sign & also all the other planets you have in your chart. For ex.: if you have stellium in your aires or a lot of energy of this sign u will embody a lot of this energy. So this means that your head, face, facial bone structure and hair will be the most exposed.

People with libra and sagittarius placements are most prone to being obsessed with shopping. There is no limit to how much you can buy. And you are very obsessed with buying clothes or something related to you. You like to enjoy comfort and things and don't feel bad about spending money.

My opinion is that in synastry aspect with sun conj ascendant, the person with the ascendant will be more attached to the person with the sun. Because the sun is what you shine for and your ego and person automatically emits this energy and follows it. And the sun is also something with which a person is seen. What a person is seen for or what makes them the center of attention. The ascendant person, however, has this personality.

Your 7th house is what you want to be, but it is difficult for you to achieve it, because it is a sign that is opposite to what you are. It is the hardest thing to achieve. So when you meet a person who has this energy, you like them for that very reason. Because it has the energy you need. For ex.: Aries in 7th house but the person has 1st house placements -You will find the person attractive because they have self-confidence, determination, courage, madness, hot-bloodedness. And it is exactly this person who will draw these characteristics out of you. 7th house is want u need not what u necessary desire. And this person will bring challenges out of you, and that's exactly why you'll like them.

Pisces will love being around people who will give them a sense of understanding. When they see that they are seen and understood. Because that's what they need and want. They need a lot of attention and tenderness. It's just that they don't show it like that because they don't know how. They feel safe with people with which they are seen.

Sagittarius placements especially mars they don't like staying in one place for a long time. They like to do things. They like challenges and explorations. And when they travel there, they also learn a lot about themselves. You like to experience the excitement of love in the same way you search for diversion in the rest of your life. First attractions are always wildly romantic. They don't like to waste time with a person if the energy is not compatible. They are very passionate in love and love that passion back. It is difficult to stimulate them.

People with the Neptune in 1st house spent a lot of their times near the sea. Also are more prone to be artistic, dreamers. With Uranus in 1st house your life is often marked by sudden and unexpected beginnings. You have a high-strung personality and an in- dependent way of looking at things. You can be strong- willed about getting your own way. Jupiter in 1st house- You are blessed with luck, and things usually turn out for the best in life. Venus in 1st house-Your appearance is important to you and you tend to spend too much money on yourself. Saturn in 1st house-You are patient and a bit shy, feel nervous underneath (which you keep under tight self-control).

Sun in 2nd house -You need security and tend to attract money, but it comes into and goes out of your life rather quickly. Pluto in 2nd house-You are adventurous about money and not afraid of taking risks. You like to diversify, and during your lifetime there may be several changes in your source of income.

Sun in 9th house-You enjoy seeing new places and exploring new ideas. You are a person who stands by your word and tends to be idealistic. Mercury in 9th house-During your middle years you may travel a great deal, both for health and your work.

Pluto in 11th house- You are something of a reformer, and seek to bring about a change for the better in any situation. You feel intensely about your goals and may even have an obsessive personality.

Sun in 12th house-You like privacy and quiet and the joys of meditation and reflection. You may be reticent or have difficulty expressing yourself and are close to only a few people. Mars in 12th house-you keep your deep and vehement feelings secret from the world. You have strong intuitive powers that can be used to advantage in personal relationships. Pluto in 12th house- You are a private person and do not share your emotions easily. People don't know how many darknes you carry within you.

Always look at the kind of Venus a person has (because that's what a person wants in love). What kind of love language does a venus person have. Women show what they find beautiful in a relationship and what will be attractive to them. With men, it shows what kind of woman they want and what it is that attracts them most in a woman. Example: Capricorn venus in 4th house - a man will want a woman who is strong, capable, can endure a lot of pain, responsible, reliable and devoted. They don't necessarily want a woman who is successful, rather a woman who has a goal and knows what she wants and is determined. At the same time, a caring woman may have a little maternal quality (more compassion, emotions).

People who have Bucket shape of chart tend to have a single-minded drive toward achieving a goal. They marshal their energies in one direction. People who have See-Saw shape will always stand between two decisions in life. Everything they choose will have two paths. Seesaw personalities are always able to see two sides of a question. They take into consideration opposing viewpoints and opinions, and weigh these when making their decisions. People who have Bowl shape will always have the feeling that something is missing in their lives. Until they meet someone to fill that void.

Quincunx - Originally classified as mildly adverse, the modern tendency is to consider its influence unpredictable and also more powerful than first thought. Semisquare-Mildly adverse. Brings tension that precipitates events but is much less powerful than a square.

Sun- neptune good aspects- Good imagination; artistic potential. Creative self- expression.

Venus- mars easy aspects-Feelings of warmth and affection easily ex- pressed. Enthusiastic. Passionate. Romantic. Venus conj Mars- A sensuous personality. Optimistic outlook. Good balance between charm and aggressiveness. Venus-saturn aspects-these people are very serious in love. They will never cheat you or do something wrong. They are very responsible and trustworthy people. You can always trust them.

Mars- saturn aspects- are very stable and reliable. In this aspect, I always see that the person will be direct with their actions and also show what they want. And they can also have a high value.

Cancer moon people like to be comfortable wherever they are. And let's say if they go to a cafe, they will always make sure that it is comfortable and that there are comfortable chairs to sit on.

Libra rising woman are very loyal and they really put a lot into the relationship and the partner. They are very helpful and compassionate. Libra rising men on the other side can be sometimes very indecisive and take a long time to decide what they want. Also, they can be insecure in themselves and be people pleasers which means that they can also look for validation of others.

Planets in the first house signify energies that become part of the individual's expression of self with regard to others. A concentration of planets here is likely to increase an individual's tendency toward subjectivity. Some planets in the first tend to lessen the degree of emphasis on the self. Neptune, for example, tends to cloud one's awareness of how one projects energies toward others.Such an individual may gain the ability to project multiple personalities such that others never really know who the individual is.

Although houses often seem to symbolize other people and entities, we have already pointed out that they really only symbolize our experience of these things. In other words, houses symbolize on the interpersonal and environmental level our orientations and relationships to these entities.

The third house does not indicate our actual brothers, sisters, and relatives, but rather our relationship to something they have in common, namely, that they are all people in our environment with whom we deal more or less automatically. It also shows the energy of the people you meet who make you feel like you've known them forever.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🪐✨🦋

[muzansfangs]

Bloodstain.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; Orihime Inoue, Ichigo Kurosaki, Isshin Kurosaki, Ichimaru Gin, Rukia Kuchiki, Byakuya Kuchiki, Uryuu Ishida, Yasutora Sado, Kisuke Urahara, Haschwalth Jugram, Shuhei Hisagi;

Format: multi-chapter story;

Warnings for this chapter: nsfw, vaginal sex, sub!reader, dom!Aizen, touch-starved Aizen, creampie, use of contraceptives, body worship, creampie, breeding kink, angst, conflicted feelings, mutual pining, conflictual relationship with family members, language, arguing, slight jealousy signs from Sosuke if you squint, violence and gore, attempted murder (Haschwalth almost killing the reader), bruises, denying feelings, kind of inferiority complex, loneliness;

Plot: Your cohabitation with Sosuke was getting complicated. You blamed yourself for your lack of backbone and thus you refused to listen to your heart. You had nothing in common with him, right? The only reason why you fell at his feet so frequently as of late was just because he was gaslighting you in a moment of weakness. Unfortunately, this was what you wanted to believe, what you needed to be true in your head. After a couple of days spent in teaching Sosuke the very few, selected things he was not familiar with in the World of the Livings, it was time to catch up with your father and reveal the reason why you had not paid him a visit upon coming back from the Soul Society. The whirlwind of emotions and some specific words he said during your confrontation triggered some bad memories from your past and you realized that, maybe, you were not just physically attracted to Sosuke. You liked him because he was the only soul in the three different universes to understand you.

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | TO THE NEXT CHAPTER

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𝐇𝐢, 𝐝𝐚𝐝.

His lips lingering on your spine, kissing every vertebra they met on their wake, left frissons over your skin. Stripped naked, knees planted onto the mattress, you were holding onto the headboard, following his instructions without flinching. A long time ago nothing like that would have ever happened. You would have wallowed into a realm of chastity and caustic desperation, even resembling Ulquiorra’s nihilism, not to be touched by him. Tables had turned, though. Either you had bocome otherworldly unhinged due to the traumatic events you had experienced, transforming you into an empty shell lacking the capacity to dominate your basic impulses, or you had irrevocably fallen in love with him.

The two options both sounded dreadful, but accpeting you had feeling for him was out of discussion. You did not love Sosuke. You refused to believe your heart was big enough to even feel something for a monster. You could not deny something had blossomed between you two a long time ago and the time you were forcibly spending together was nurturing whatever it was to bring it to life. You wished you could simply grab some shears and cut the poisonous buds of your relationship. Unfortunately, though, you could not turn your head in front of what was happening between you two. Despite your arguments, you were discovering things about him that made him more human to your glossy eyes. Who was Sosuke Aizen, stripped from his cruelty when facing an enemy, dethroned from his pristine throne in Las Noches and forced to live among humans, so far from the sky he wished to reign upon?

A man. Sosuke Aizen was a man.

He still had his ambitions, his personality immaculate and often reminding you of what he used to be like in Hueco Mundo and, sadly, in the Soul Society, when he had protected you, healed you, made you believe he was a kind man who took pity of a wounded girl. You wished you had never seen that part of him, the side he had claimed never existed to begin with. Yet, you caught glimpses of it again and again and, frankly, it was hard to think he was faking everything. When he had held you in his arms the previous night, Sosuke was not feigning kindness. The suggestion of sleeping together had slipped his mouth effortlessly. Maybe he had thought the situation would have benefited him, but he had not chastised you for your apparently unjustified fear of thunders. He had calmed you down. And how much you hated him for that.

Now, fully naked, you wondered what had got into your head. Why did you keep on letting him touch you, mark your body like a canvas, rob you of your dignity? All those questions did not find an answer. Not when, according to you, he began to gaslight you again. He had to be manipulating you, right?

His hands cupped your hipbones, thumbs tracing the outlines of the ilium with untainted wanton gleaming in his eyes “Your hips. They fit my hands so perfectly, they are made to be grasped by me. — he drawled, his hot breath wafting your jawline whilst he pressed his erection against your arse — They are made to give birth”.

You shuddered at his words, your hands gripping the headboard so tightly your knuckles whitened. He took notice of that, of the way he had the full command of your body, of how you reacted to his touch and his shameless dirty talk. Sosuke smiled, burying his face onto the crook of your neck.

“That’s right. Hold on tight, because I don’t plan to hold back tonight” he rambled, the clink of his belt being unbuckled following suit.

You heard the rustle of clothes landing somewhere on the floor, a few seconds of anguish for the lack of his warm hands over your body, before his right one slided to the upfront of your thigh, slithering down towards you heat. You tensed in anticipation, whilst his fingers spread your labia to seek your throbbing clitoris. Applying some pressure over it, you whimpered out a cry of despair. You were absolutely soaking wet and ready to welcome him inside, but he was perseverating in playing with your body, aiming to break you down completely.

Now that you were not in the Soul Society anymore, he was in no rush. Who would have ever stopped him from getting his hands all over you? No one. If you really did not want this to happen, you should have been the one to stop him. Regrettably, you were not. You liked it, you wanted it and you did not restrain yourself to respond to his stimulations.

“For someone who claims to hate me, you surely are quite aroused. Do you perhaps have a degradation kink?” he asked you, lips gliding over your shoulderblade and lingering over the crook of your neck, where his teeth bit into with a slow motion that made your legs shake.

“You are a man of science. You know this is a matter of biology and consent” you fretted, breathless, refusing to foster his hopes of getting you to admit the sensations and feelings seeping into your heart.

Sosuke hummed, index and forefinger circling your opening torturously slowly, relinquishing the sight of your writhing body pushing back against his hand to plead for more friction “Still lying to yourself, sweetheart? — Sosuke asked you lowly, collecting some of your slick from your dewy folds and retriving his hand, pressing the said fingers against your parted lips — What is this to you?”.

You inhaled sharply, unable to say anything else beside “Stress relief” before he pushed his digits into your mouth. Your eyes grew round for a split second, the taste of yourself in your mouth making you shudder as he pressed the pads down on your tongue and you unreasonably swirled it around his slender fingers to clean them up, to incite him to give you more.

Eyes fluttering, you wept around his fingers, arms stinging and numbing for the position he had forced you to strike.

“This is your wanton, Y/N. — he cooed, lips brushing against the shell of your ear — You have always wanted this. Or maybe it would be more appropriate to say you have always wanted me” he stated smoothly, but he was not flaunting. His voice sent some vibrations through your body, going straight to your core. He was not heedless about your current state. Just like back then, Sosuke had everything under his control, including you.

The withdrawal of his fingers from your mouth was followed by an obscene ‘pop’. Saliva ran down your chin, a weak whimper echoing in the bedroom as you felt him tangle his fingers through your hair, straining your neck to lock eyes with him. His ones glimmered in fascination, they pierced your soul through your dilated pupils. The wall you had worked so hard to build around you was falling apart. You were in shambles, head spinning as he kissed you roughly, foreteeth biting onto your lower lip to assert dominance.

Your moans were swallowed by his voracious mouth, his hands now cupping your mounds. You were supposed to bristle at him for the accurancy of his words, for his mindblowing way to figure you out so easily, as if you were a character born from the ink of his pen. He knew everything about you. Instead, you jolted at the feeling of his cock grinding against your pussy “Face down, Y/N. Don’t be ashamed. — he whispered, rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers — Your arms can rest” he crooned, watching the way your muscles, contracted, were finally relaxing as you slumped face down onto the pillow. The smell of clean blankets penetrated your nostrils as you nuzzled your cheek in the puffy cushion underneath your head.

“You are a natural born yapper” you exhaled, furrowing your brows as he spread your legs further apart. You refused to glance at him from above your shoulder, deep down knowing he was most likely grinning down at the pornographic view he had of your nether regions. You were dripping, pussy on full display and ready for him to stretch it wider.

His hands grasped your ass, palms splayed over the globes and parting them to open you up better. You felt your breath hitch, spine arching as a reflex to what he was doing. In all your past experiences, you had never ever been treated like this. Goosebumps raised on your skin as you hid your face into the pillow.

Sosuke hummed, squeezing your right rear before lining his shaft to your opening with his free hand “Your brother agrees with that. — he absently commented, the bulbous head of his cock pushing past your folds slowly — However, I beg your pardon, but I am not invested into talking about him when I am splitting you open like that” he rasped out, pushing all the way down fluidly, his thighs smacking against your ass.

The lewd moan slipping from your lips made your face heat up in shame. This angle allowed him to reach the perfect spot turning you into a whimpering mass of sweat and incoherent words so perfectly. It was not fair. You were not supposed to enjoy these experiences with him. You wished there had been someone else in your life who had made you this thrilled and on the brink of ecstasy before him. But no one compared, he was beyond that.

Your velvety walls clamped down on him, thighs quivering as you bit down the pillow to restrain the overflows of breathy moans threatening to spill from your mouth. Sosuke took notice of this, rotating his hips gently against yours to permit your body to adjust to him. Sosuke Aizen was even considerate. How infuriating could it be?

“You need to relax. — he stated calmly, fingers tracing your spine down your lower back — I will do all the work, you just need to tell yourself there is nothing wrong in enjoying this”.

“That’s the point. I’m not supposed to”.

“Why? Because it’s me?”.

You swallowed thickly, glad he could not see your face right now “Sosuke—”.

“You don’t really feel revolted by me. You keep limiting yourself because you fear what your family and all those other fools would think about you, if they knew you let me in your bed. — he rebuked you, tone ever so soothing but you could detect the bitter undertone behind each word leaving his mouth — Break the chains. I refuse to watch you pretend to be someone that you are not. If they don’t like you for who you really are, I do”.

It hurt. You had even realized you were crying until you blinked and some tears dampened the pillow beneath your face. You clutched the blankets at your sides, forehead pressed against the pillow as you tried to push away the horrible memories from your past, the wounds you hid in your heart, careful not to let anyone see them. The older Kurosaki, the girl who could not fail to be a model her step-silblings had to look up to. But the same Kurosaki who had fragilities and no one ever paid any mind to.

“Stop it, Sosuke. — you eventually snapped, eyes closing in frustration — Just fuck me. That’s what you want me for, right? Fuck me”.

The man behind you stilled temporary, thumbs caressing your hipbones whilst he deciphered you, the meaning of your words, your body language, the way you had resorted to command him to complete the act instead of letting him in. How ironic was it? You were the one shutting the world outside, while he was allowing you to know more and more about him. Yet, he would have respected your decision. Things were far way more complex than how you had brutally depicted them. You were not a toy for him, you were the bloody half-human girl who inexplicably got under his skin. You were the only woman in the world he demanded to know the flings she had had, the people she went out with, the places she frequented.

Sosuke clenched his jaw, pulling himself half-way out slowly, before thrusting back into you. The view he had of your body was divine. Back arched, head pressed against the pillow, ass jiggling in sensual ripples with each smack of his thighs against the back of your thighs. For a few moments, the animalistic and masculine desire to merely breed you prevailed. He did not talk much, low groans filled the air as he rammed into you in unbridled salaciousness. You were soaked, the squelching sounds his length dragging in and out of your warm channel were hammering in his head, barbaric instinct he loathed to admit he possessed too taking the control of his body. Limbs and mind cooperated in a lacherous harmony that did not belong to him.

The bedpost slammed against the wall steadily, your whimpers and throaty moans persuading you two to go on. Something, though, felt off. Sosuke wanted you. He had come to terms with that fact. He had no qualms in demearing you, manhandling you roughly and fucking you dumb. Still, the tingling sensation in his chest and his inner thoughts were totally confusing him. It was like the Hogyoku was passing its will on him, reinforcing his desires to the point he had been digging his fingertips so harshly onto the softness of your hips that he only loosened it when you winced in pain.

“Sosuke! You’re hurting me!” your agitated and breathless plea snapped him out of his stream of conciousness.

What had he done? What had happened to him?

His gaze flitted down your hips, red marks tattooing your skin and he furrowed his eyebrows perplexedly. Had he been the one to do that to you? His expression made you uncomfortable. You had never seen him that worried in your whole life.

“Sosuke…” you called his name softly, panting heavily as he pulled out of you and sat back on the bed, hand running down his face to wipe away some sweat beading his visage.

You could not move much, so you merely rolled over to lay on your back and looked at him questioningly “You were not yourself. What was that?” you dared to ask him, only for him to crawl towards you wordlessly and hovering over you. His nose brushed against yours, his hands taking a hold of your legs and wrapping them around his waist.

“I got carried away”.

“Don’t lie to me” you insisted, looping your arms around his shoulders, breath hitching when he sheathed himself back into you. He was not going to stop, apparently. But everytime he had you pinned down, you felt complete. The feelings was outrageous to you. How could this be possible?

“I never lied to you and I have no reason to start now. Get it in your head. Or do I need to fuck that concept in you?” Sosuke drawled, hips rocking back and forth as he set off a gentler pace.

You moaned softly, hot breaths mingling together as your mouths opened to express the mindblowing feeling enveloping your abdomen. The stimulation was liberating. You had missed that feeling, you had missed his body over yours, his cock between your gummy walls.

You sighed, hazardously letting your lips meet his ones “That’s not true. You lied to me once. — you whispered, tongue lapping at his parted lips to keep his attention on you — You told me you were not touch-starved. What I am seeing are the symptoms of your scalding lechery for physical touch. I want to you to tell me how you feel. It is not fair only you get to grow familiar with my feelings” you boldly replied, as your nails scratched down the length of his back when he hit that sweet spot into you once again.

Sosuke grunted, hand grasping your jaw roughly as he kissed you ferociously to hush you. No, he was not going to admit anything. Not until he had figured out what was happening to him, why he did not want to just have sex with you. Sosuke wanted this and more. The revolting truth was driving him nuts. He needed you. How pathetic was it? He who had made himself a living, walking God, wanted a mere human to be his forever. He wished to procreate with you, to see the swell of you belly growing until you gave birth to a new life sharing yours traits and his dna.

“And I am the yapper here? You never seem to understand when you should clamp that fucking mouth of yours shut, darling!” he grumbled, before capturing your lips in another searing kiss and halting his movements to spurt his cum deep into you.

You whimpered out against his lips, overstimulated, tired, the powerful orgasm you had reached leaving you breathless. He was far from letting you know him intimately, that much was true. However, you had got the inkling something was changing and, surprisingly, for the better. After a few seconds of panting and his body crashing yours, he rolled off of you and you clumsily reached for a small box on the nightstand. Once you grabbed it, you sat up, shuddering, as you felt his seed leak out from your abused entrance. The feeling made you flinch, but you had to take your birthcontrol. You never skipped a day and, considering your period had become irregular due to the amount of stress from the war weighing on your shoulders you needed to fix the problem.

Popping the small pill in your mouth, you took a sip of the water and swallowed it down, not thinking too hard about it. Sosuke though had followed your movements and had propped himself up on his elbow, half-lidded eyes soaking in your naked form thoughtfully.

“What was it?” he eventually asked you.

“It’s a contraceptive pill, but my gynecologist has prescribed it to stabilize my hormones. My period doesn’t seem to keep up with my rhythms” you explained, not really paying much attention to his question. Not when all you were thinking about was the mess on your fresh blankets. You huffed, gesturing for him to stand up. You had no intention to sleep like that.

The former Captain did not protest, leisurely standing up and watching you saunter to the wardrobe to draw the lilac set of covers Uryuu had gifted you when you had moved in your new flat. While you were way too focused on fixing your bedroom and cleaning up, Sosuke’s mind was restless. You probably did not skip a day of that pill. He wondered though if the Hogyoku could somehow nullify the effects of the contraceptive. You had no evidence this could happen, just like you had no clue if it was impossible. If he was still in Las Noches, he would have tested out his theory. He had so many instruments in his laboratory. Now, though, what could he do to search for answers if not communicating with that small device now totally absorbed by his sternum and listening to its impulses?

Even if he finally became totally aware of what the Hogyoku wanted, the question troubling him would have still remained unanswered. Could he impregnate you? He almost snorted, conflicted in his own little world. Why did he care so much? He knew himself and his ambitions, sadly. If he was obsessing over something like that, it only meant he wished to find a solution to the enigma. On top of that, he hoped in a confirmation of his suspects. And that feeling startled him.

“Gosh… We have made a mess” you suddenly noted, still a little breathless. You were naked under his attentive gaze. Shame for your nudity in his presence was not something you were affected by anymore. He was totally naked too, seemingly unbothered by the lack of clothes shileding his body.

Sosuke slicked back his hair, as he approached the other side of the bed to help you changing the blankets. You froze solid, stunned by the kind gesture and the mere fact he even knew how to perfectly smooth down the creases.

“Who taught you…” you started, trailing off as you put the pillow back in its original place.

“I’m a civilized man, Y/N. What’s so strange about me knowing how to make a bed?”.

You felt a tad stupid for your question now, but it always happened when talking to him. Even if he had never tried to make you feel that way purposely “Well, you had maids in Las Noches and in the Soul Society as well. I thought you never bothered learning how to make your bed…” you reasoned, avoiding his eyes at any cost. You should have clamped your mouth shut. Pesting him with frivolous trivia was only going to mortify you, once he snapped.

Instead, he furrowed his brows, his voice smoother and gentler somehow “This is certainly true. Did you forget where most of the souls enrolling at the Academy come from, though? Not everyone is privileged enough to be born in a luxurious Estate like Kuchiki Byakuya” he reminded you, causing an itch you always wanted to scratch to resurface in the back of your mind. You knew little to nothing about Sosuke’s past and his family. He never talked about it. While you did not have the courage to ask him about his private life in the past, now that you were beginning to understand him, you could ask him more about himself. All you knew, as he had just stated, was that Sosuke was not a noble and, most likely, he was not born behind the safe walls encircling the Seireitei. He came from the Rukongai.

Well, how much it jarred with the way he carried himself.

“Are you telling me you were one of those children from the Rukongai?” you hazardously tried, finally meeting his gaze when you both accidentally reached for the same pillow. Your fingers touched, his chestnut brown eyes softened for a couple of seconds.

“Without other children to call friends or equals. No child in the Rukongai could stand near me without being blown by my reiatsu” he confessed, allowing silence to blanket the room and your shaken frame as well. Suddenly, all those talks about solitude being his shadow you had heard from Kisuke and Ichigo and the way his sword sent a melancholic feeling of lonliness through your bones made sense.

His veheement search for an equal to fight, for someone who could challenge him fell into place like the last piece of a puzzle you could not fit anywhere for years.

He did not feel ashamed, yet he had stiffened quite visibly. You gave him some seconds to gain his thoughts, before you did something that caught your own rationality off guard “Stay here tonight”.

Stay here tonight. Weren’t you the one who did not wish for you two to bond? Sleeping with him again would have complicated things further. But your heart was throbbing in your chest. What were you doing? Offering him a shoulder to cry on? No. Were you concerned about him? No. Were you attempting to be his psychologist? No. You just wanted to be near him and let him know vulnerabilities are part of every being existing. He knew a lot about yours and now you were ready to know more about his ones.

But naturally Sosuke Aizen made things hard for you just like he had done in the past.

“There’s no need for this. I’m heading back to my room”.

“But—”.

“Goodnight”.

The bitter taste on your tongue you felt when he left was familiar to you. He had not chosen you. But nobody ever did, right? However, being used to this had not prepared you enough for that stupid feeling of abandonment you were now being swallowed by. He always seemed to be eager to pest you, to have you under his watch. But his pride and ego had prevailed again. After all, was he not respecting your decisions?

“You dumbass, why would he care when no one does…” you uttered under your breath, before facepalming and bending down to pick up your clothes.

As you headed to the bathroom, you ignored your phone buzzing, prelude to a meeting you could not avoid anymore and that would have most likely left you in shambles on the ground.

You took your sweet time in making up your mind. For a couple of days, you did not even open the chat, pretending there was not an unread message in your inbox. The red circle on your father’s icon made your stomach churn. You oughted to pay him a visit. Ichigo had probably already come back too by now. For some reason, though, going back to your old house and dining with your father evoked memories you wished to wash away from your mind. He had loved you dearly, fed you, made sure you lacked nothing. However, he had not even noticed what you needed the most: someone to understand you, to guide you, to pat your shoulder and tell you that flaws are part of the human nature. It was okay to fail, sometimes. Too bad he had never taught you that. Too bad Isshin and everyone around him always had their full attention on Ichigo. Too bad you had to play the rule of Masaki, your siblings’ mom, but no one ever tried to be a mother for you. You had no one to wipe your tears, when you fell at the park. You had to grit your teeth and be an example for Ichigo and the two little girls, who would have learned not to cry over silly, little incidents.

Therefore, now, ready to leave your flat, you finally opened the message.

ISSHIN: When are you coming over?

YOU: I’ll be there in ten minutes.

Shoving your phone into the back pocket of your jeans, you headed to the living room. Sosuke was comfortably sitting on the sofa, eyes transfixed on the tv, seemingly uninterested. To distract yourself from the embarrassment of having asked him to sleep in your bedroom that night, only to receive a categorical refusal from him, you had made it your goal to keep your relationship based on minimal interactions. To make life easier for you, you had even showed him how the tv worked. He enjoyed films on Netflix, thanks to God, mostly because the human nature and habits never ceased to shock him. For the worse, obviously. You had installed apps on his phone, given him your number for him to reach out to you, if you had to leave the flat without him. He was perceptive, paying attention to your instructions, learning quickly whatever you showed him.

Upon sensing your presence in the room, Sosuke stopped the film. Head turning in your direction, he let his eyes wander down your form “You didn’t mention we were leaving. Give me a minute”.

“I’m leaving, you’re not. — you stopped him just as he grabbed the remote to turn the tv off — I’ll be back in an hour, at best”.

He seemed stupefied by the news, a knot forming between his eyebrows “I thought you could not leave me unsupervised. Where are you going?”.

“I need to meet up with someone. It won’t take long”.

“Is it your beloved Lieutenant Hisagi? That’s why I can’t trail behind you?” Sosuke inquired, a bitter undertone permeating his words, probably without his own consent.

You shook your head “No, it’s not Shuhei. It’s my father. I don’t think anyone even informed him about this arrangement. This is my duty, after all. — you declared, hand on the doorknob, while you shot him a demanding glare — Don’t open the door to anyone. I got the keys”.

Sosuke watched you disappear behind the door. His eyes hooded, head lolling on the backrest to stare at the ceiling. He had a feeling you were fronting. Most likely, it was his fault. He had played with your mind, possessed your body carnally like he really wanted you. And it was not far from reality: Sosuke craved you. The issue with him was that he could not stay close to you, if he had no idea of what was truly going on with him. All he knew was that he stared at the phone, awaiting for you to call him up and ask him to come to pick you up. Because he would have not hesitated to run a thousand miles to get to you.

Down the streets of Karakura, you had spent the time to reach your father’s home in picking the right words to tell him who was currently residing in your house. You knew he would have obviously freaked out. You could have not blamed him for that. Still, there were so many untold things between you two that you refused to let him reprimand you for being reckless. He had forced you to be that way, he had raised you like a warrior, a thing he had not done with the rest of his offspring. Now, entering your old house, memories of good and bad times filled your mind. The living room, the kitchen, the view from the window besides the sofa. You had no guts to go upstairs, though. Your old bedroom would have probably evoked the worst scenarios you had lived in your teenage years.

When was the last time you had visited this house? Probably, when Ichigo had sent you a message to talk about that former Arrancar turned into a Quincy he had fought against right before the war started. That small reunion had haunted you for days, depriving you of a well-deserved rest. Another war, another trip to Hueco Mundo and the Soul Society. Another chance to possibly see Sosuke again. You had refused to go to Hueco Mundo, asking Urahara to go straight to the Seireitei. Terrible choice, considering the numbers of victims that had fallen before your eyes.

“You really came to visit, then”.

Isshin Kurosaki, your father, had joined you. Turning towards him, you merely nodded your head in his direction as a greeting. He smiled imperceptibly, gesturing for you to take a seat at the table to have the hardest conversation of your whole life.

“I should have called you earlier” you started, complying to his request and dragging a chair along the floor to keep yourself busy while you talked to him.

Isshin hummed, sitting on the opposite side of the table. He seemed tired “It’s alright. All I care about is that you’re fine” he said, folding his arms against his chest.

You knew he meant good. He was your father. What he was saying was true. Still, it still sounded ironic to you. You were a small kid, when your mother died and he took you in with his family. You were a damn kid, when you cried yourself to sleep for two years straight every night after your loss. You remembered waiting for him to enter your bedroom and console you, but he never came. You wished you could have found solace in his warm eyes instead of seeking comfort in the placid satellite up in the sky. But he never bothered crossing the threshold.

“Ichigo told me you got badly injured, when the war started”.

“I’m good. — you shortly said, maybe too quickly for your own liking — Did he tell you why I got cut open?” you asked him bitterly.

Isshin let his gaze flit from your face to the floor “He just said you were fighting by his side”.

You tsked, bittered by his lack of insterest “I got butchered by his opponent. I did what you have always taught me to do: shielding Ichigo from the dangers”.

He stiffened, silence falling over you two for a few seconds, asphyxiating you like a pair of hands squeezing the air out of your lungs. You really were hoping this was going to end soon. You wanted to go back home, even if it meant seeing Sosuke again. Therefore you decided to give him little time to think about what you had just told him.

“There is a reason behind my visit. I do not think you are going to accept the situation I have been put on, but I think you should be informed regardless” you began, your voice not wavering like it used to do in the past. You had really matured, grown up with a strong will despite all of the times people almost forgot about your presence, or simply associated you to your brother. You had a voice and you wanted people to listen to it.

Isshin furrowed his brows, awaiting for you to go ahead. You had his attention, for once.

“I haven’t come back to Karakura alone. The Central 46 took a questionable decision and you perfectly know how things works, when it comes down to them. — you started, watching his eyes clouding over in a ominous feeling he was not going to cope with what you were about to tell him — For an indefinite amount of time, Sosuke Aizen is living in my flat”.

The sound of his fist colliding with the table made you flinch, but you did not dart away your eyes from his. He was reacting exactly how you had anticipated and he was right. You were biologically linked. His role of a parent demanded him to protect you. But he had never really done it before now, right?

“What the Hell does it mean? This cannot be possible!” he countered back, standing abruptly and running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“It’s true and no one can do anything about it. Stay out of this. I can deal with him” you replied, looking at him dead in the eyes.

Your father snorted, jabbing his finger at you “You don’t understand, do you? He’s surely going to kill you! Do you think you can stop him?”.

You bristled, jumping on your feet “That’s not even your business! I know the risks and I know him better than anyone else!”.

“Sure thing! He knows you as well, Y/N! You’re not Ichigo! He knows he can kill you because you don’t even have a Bankai!” he roared back, chest heaving as you felt like someone had just slapped you across the face. In a instant, you were back in the Soul Society, to the moment you realized no one ever believed in you.

“Kurosaki-kun has achieved his Bankai!” Orihime piped out, exuberant, doe eyes glittering in a visceral adoration masked as what she simply referred to as ‘plain admiration for a friend’. Everybody knew what she was hiding behind her selfless nature, her newly renovated combative spirit and audacious decision of following you all in the Soul Society. She was doing it for your brother, for Ichigo. Obviously, for Rukia too. Yet, you knew better than your younger friends. This was love. Her sacrifices were made for him, her heart beated for him. Orihime Inoue naively thought to be subtle about the feelings she harboured for your step-brother. Unfortunately for her, you saw right through her eyes.

Uryuu, arms folded over his chest, stared at the vastity of a forest visible from the hill you were finding solace at after the insane battle you fought.

“Still, it was not enough to stop that Captain”.

You flinched, eyes downcast in a futile attempt to stop certain thoughts from invading your mind. Wherever you went, you felt watched. You still felt his touch over your shoulder to heal the severe wound Captain Ichimaru had inflicted to you. You still tasted the delicious tea he had made for you in his office. How incredibly stupid of you to trust a man who should have tossed you in a cell for having broken into his world. Nobody should be kind to an enemy. If this happens, the helping hand is most likely the same one that will hold a blade to stab you in the end.

“Are you alright?”.

The question caught you off guard, head raising to meet the confused glances of your comrades. You had zoned out, apparently. Orihime had scooted closer to you, hand curled around your forearm amiably.

You sighed “Don’t worry about me. I’m just tired, that’s all. I have fully recovered and… I have started training again” you explained casually, gifting the worried girl a soft, reassuring smile she mirrored. While she did not press further and Sado nodded, Uryuu interjected in your conversation.

“It’s understandable. — he reasoned, index and forefinger fixing his glasses over the bridge of his nose — We all should hone our abilities. I have a feeling this war is going to require a whole other level of power from us, if we wish to contribute and partake to it” he stated calmly, albeit there was a worried undertone you had not failed to taste on your tastebuds upon letting his words sink in.

“Which is why I need a Bankai too” you noted, stretching your arms above your head in a catlike motion.

“You know, I thought you would have been the one to achieve the Bankai before him. — Uryuu cooed, scrutinizing your face, lost into his thoughts — You are older than him, after all”.

You had no time to retaliate, because Orihime stunned you in silence with her mellow and overly excited tone of voice “But he is special! If there’s someone to bet on, Ichigo’s the right candidate for it!”.

Yes, he was. Ichigo was always the better Kurosaki.

You shook your head, tears prickling your eyes as you clenched your fists down your sides “You know nothing about me, not only about him. If you really cared, you would have known I actually have a Bankai” you snapped, watching his eyes widen even so slightly and his mouth opening to talk to you. He reached a hand out, but you shoved past him and ran out of the house as if it was on fire.

The moment your eyes turned back to their original color, the purple tear-like lines marking your cheeks fading, you fell onto your knees. Your fingers reached up to your mouth, the pads of your twitching fingers pierced by the pointy canines gradually retracting in your gums, as you witnessed to the stages your body went through to go back to its original shape. The Bankai. You had made it. You had finally unleashed your Bankai.

Sniffing in joy, you wiped the tears off of your face, standing back up absent-mindedly.

“You have a beautiful Bankai” the baritone voice of your captor cut through the still air of the training room. When had he entered? For how long had he been standing there to watch you? His praise, coming from his sinful mouth, touched your heart in ways you refused to acknowledge.

“Thanks”.

He did not bother waltzing in the room, but he indulged into his perpetual habit of striking up small conversations with you since you were locked in Las Noches “I knew something was holding you back. But I never stopped believing in you”.

You wanted to shout at him, you should have for everything he had done. But for once, you felt the sweet taste of a positive appraisal on your tongue and you realized too late how addictive it could be. Tragically, you let him see through your weakness.

“You are not less valuable than him, Y/N. — he admonished you, before leaving — You just happen to be surrounded by people who depend on him, who need him to be strong to survive. You don’t”.

You were sobbing by the time you made it back to your flat, but you could not go inside in such a state, especially since you now had come to tye conclusion that the only person knowing you better than anyone else was the same person who had tried to kill everyone around you besides you. You slumped onto the ground, curling yourself up in ball, until you spotted a small post-it on the floor next to the front door of your house.

You unfolded it, teary eyes obfuscating your vision, as you read yet another problematic information:

‘We need to talk. I’m staying at Urahara’s shop for the weekend.

Shuhei Hisagi’.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi there! Finally, I have updated this story! Time for a confession: I never liked Isshin. I am not going to paint him as a monster or a villain, naturally, but I never liked his way of behaving around Ichigo's younger sisters and how he was mostly an absent father to Ichigo. It does not feel right at all leaving your son in the dark about what really happened to your wife, his mother. Even worse is the fact he never bothered to tell him a damn thing about the Soul Society. This is not protecting your family, Isshin. This is downright escaping responsibilities. Anyway, getting down to business, this jackass is going to appear a lot in the story. Future grandfather in action, you could say. Obviously, Isshin and Ssosuke will hardly get alone.

– Luce

TAGS: @pseudowho @seireiteihellbutterfly @onyxino @areyouflying @bakugosgirl01 @noirfan12 @velaenaa

@skexxll @suigetsusunny @aizenscumslut @bucciaratizippers @jesurum-says-hi

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Chishiya Yandere Alphabet | AIB ♤

TEMPLATE CREDIT

Note: Can be read as them being in the Real world or Borderlands.

Some parts are divided and show how he would act in both worlds.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Chishiya its know for being bad with feelings and even more with affection. It would not be intense but you would notice he does tell you how you did something right and does not taunt you or mocks you as much as he does to others.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

As much as he needs. Chishiya its never the cultrip. No he plans everything so another person takes the blame for his actions. If he needs to physically hurt someone for you then he plans that other person does the job. No one would ever be able to connect it to him.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

I see him more of someone who would manipulate you into a relationship with him or at least at being close to him rather than abduct you. He would appear as your only option or savior. His taunts and mocks are tone down for you.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Yes. You wont notice it but Chishiya will go against your wish and slowly wrap your mind around his own ideas. Maybe you want to help others like a good person, well Chishiya would remove whatever empaty you have in you and leave it only for himself.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

As I said he cant be difficult with feelings. In fact he knows this is not love but something darker and far more twisted. Chishiya has accepted he cant love in a traditional way. Even if he has you on your knees for him he wont ever be able to show his true colors to you (these are even strange to him) or be vulverable in front of you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Dissapointed. He expected better from you than to go against his will. If its at the start then he blames himself for not being more careful with how he was approaching you, but if its after sometime you two have been together then he is just...void. Its going to give you the cold shoulder till he notices you cant do anything without him. May let you get hurt so you cry for his help.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Yes and No.

For him every person its a game he can play with. You included. He wont mind seeing you try and escape him at least at the start. But he also finds you too...addictive. Like from all the toys he has you are his favorite, so he cant let you go.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Insilation caused by him so you would only depend on him, and if he is mad at you then he leaves you alone.

Emotional breaking, he breaks your feelings till there is just space for him in you. You will end brainwashed and clean of your old persona.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Depends. He may want to keep things without a name. In the Real world his family may Force him to marry you and he would do it. Better you than a stranger. In the Borderlands he looks out to survive and since he has a strange care for you then he keeps you alive.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

No. Chishiya knows thats a sign of weakness at least to him it is. He wont get jealous if someone its with you because he knows you only have eyes and mind for him. He may appear besides you and wrap and arm around you just in case that other person has notice that he is basically making you his puppet. Its a warning to back off.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Chishiya its a bit softer if that possible. When he is alone with you he lets you touch him and caress his hair and face. He even smiles around you and loses that calculated and playful look he usually has.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Real world: He may meet you at the Hospital or at a random place. He is slow about approaching you or courting you. He may only try to end being close to you if he finds you interesting in his own twisted way.

Borderlands: May approach you after a game or at the Beach. You are the perfect victim for him. He may try and appear helpful but in reality he just wants to use you.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Yes and No. He is softer with you but he also likes to keep a good facade. He does not want you to be used to a extremely different way than is usual self and start to question him later.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Mentally. Insolation and mental torture. He does not want you to have physicall marks that may get attention on you. Besides the mental torture will make you think twice about you doing something.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Real world: Lots but it also depends how deep your relationship goes. Chishiya would prefer to toy with you himself. Its what he wants, you away from friends and family. If he is forced to marry you it get worse. He demands you to leave work and be at home. You are not allowed to have Friends over or visit family unless its necesary to keep up the happy marriage facade.

Borderlands: Not a lot. He may tell you to stay away from problems at the beach but apart from being someone who sometimes takes care of him when he allows it then he will let you do as you wish as long as you dont cause him any problem.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Patient enough. Like this Man believes everybody is under him, so he has developed a level of patience thats beyond human...

With you he is even more. Maybe he its a firm beliver that you are dumb (and that makes his life so much funnier). May treat you like a baby if you are dumb enough....or leave you.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Yes. Why would he ever be truly attached to you ? You were his toy and he failed on keeping you. For him you are a broken thing he could not keep. And thats it. He may miss your soft touches but that passes quickly.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

First, he does not abduct you so no. Second no. You are his favorite toy and maybe just maybe he loves you but he knows nothing about feelings so it may as well be is brain and human nature looking for company. Still he wont let you go that easy. Unless you piss him off or he gets tired of you.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Since he was young he was a strange kid. Being left apart by his parents did not help. He does not understand feelings and feels a big detachment from others. Probably caused by his parents non interest on him. He sees others as less and as things he can use. Why not use one of them (you) yo try and live that "connection" others seems to form so easily.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

No. He feels nothing when that happens. Borderlands or Real World. In the Borderlands he may get worried if you dont come out from your room...if he is still interested in you thats it. But for crying...he does not know how to deal with it.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

While a classic Yandere either hurts a lot others or is 100% in love. Chishiya justs keeps you by his side because you make him feel....well less non human. And also because he founds it funnier each time you two pass time together. Why ? Because you are so dumb love with him and he finds it funny.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Honestly? Nothing. This Man leaves you himself if he loses interest and the tables may turn because he left you so broken and depend on him that you are the one who ends seeking him.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Mentally ? Yes. He is ready to break you and pull you back together so he can use you as he pleases.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

It may sound cruel. But he does not find whatever you do that special. He would only feel different when you take care of him. But he knows you do it because he pushed you into it. So even that its not something he would worship.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Depends on how you are. He may find you interesting for some reason he cant figure out and thats what makes him act. He would not really use lots of times on looking into your past. He is able to know someone by having a few words with them.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Yes. He will destroy your mental state, leaving you to be fully depend on him. He will ruin your life, work, Friends...no one will look for you and will lose interest in you. Leaving you alone with only him to be there to pick up the broken pieces.

[kingdom-of-sins]

Homelander x Reader

Homelander was told that you were gone, dead, never to return to him again. He just didn't know how big of a lie it was

Homelander stepped through the ruined doors of the lab, his presence an overwhelming force in the desolate space. The facility was a tomb of memories, the walls steeped in the screams of his childhood. This was where they had forged him in fire and agony, a place of sterile white rooms, needles, and cold, unforgiving hands. And it was here, too, where he had lost the only person who had ever mattered to him.

The floors were slick with blood, the bodies of scientists and doctors strewn about like broken dolls. He had hunted them down with methodical cruelty, each one meeting a brutal end under his unrelenting fury. They deserved worse, far worse, for what they had done—not just to him, but to her.

She had been everything to him back then. The girl with eyes that reflected the same pain, the same fear. Her ability to mimic the powers of others had fascinated the scientists, turning her into a living experiment, just like him. Together, they had endured the tortures, finding strength in each other’s presence. She had been his anchor, his one source of light in that pit of darkness.

But then, one day, she was gone. They told him she was dead, and something inside him snapped. That was the day he stopped being the boy with a name and became Homelander, the unfeeling weapon Vought wanted.

Now, all these years later, he was back. The lab was eerily quiet, the only sounds the faint hum of machines still running despite the carnage. He was ready to leave this place behind, to burn it to the ground and let it be consumed by the flames of his vengeance. But then, he heard it—a heartbeat.

Homelander froze, his super hearing honing in on the faint, rhythmic sound. It was coming from deep within the facility, far below the main level, where the most secret and secure rooms lay hidden. His heart pounded in his chest as he followed the sound, a flicker of something strange and unwanted stirring in the pit of his stomach—hope.

He reached a metal door, thick and fortified, sealed with a lock designed to keep out even the most determined intruder. With a single thought, he tore the door from its hinges, the steel groaning in protest before crashing to the ground. He stepped inside, his breath catching in his throat at what he saw.

There, on a medical bed in the center of the small, sterile room, lay the girl he had thought lost forever.

She was still, her body connected to an array of medical equipment. Tubes ran from her veins to machines that hummed with a sickening familiarity, and her skin was pale, almost translucent under the harsh lights. But she was alive—he could hear her heartbeat, weak but steady, echoing in the small space.

Homelander’s chest tightened, a mixture of rage and grief crashing over him like a tidal wave. They had lied to him. They had kept her alive, hidden away, draining her of whatever they thought she could give them. And he had been too blind, too consumed by his own darkness, to see the truth.

He moved to her side, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch her face. Her skin was cool beneath his fingertips, soft and fragile, and for a moment, he feared she might shatter under his touch. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek, tracing the delicate line of her jaw.

She was still as beautiful as he remembered, but there was something different now—an emptiness in her that hadn’t been there before. She looked like a ghost, a shell of the vibrant, resilient girl he had known. And it was all because of them, the people he had just slaughtered, the people who had kept her in this hell.

A tear slipped down his cheek, an unwelcome sign of the emotions he had buried for so long. He wiped it away quickly, his expression hardening. There was no time for weakness now. He had to get her out of here, had to save her, even if he didn’t know if she could be saved.

Homelander began disconnecting the tubes and wires from her body, his movements slow and careful. Each piece of equipment that fell away felt like a chain being broken, a step closer to freeing her from this nightmare. He lifted her into his arms, holding her close to his chest, her head resting against his shoulder.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “I’ve got you.”

He walked out of the lab, carrying her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, his grip firm but gentle. The night air was cold against his skin as he emerged into the open, but he barely noticed it. All he could focus on was her—the girl who had once been his only source of light in the darkness.

He flew to Vought Tower, faster than he had ever flown before, the world a blur around him. He couldn’t lose her again. He wouldn’t.

When he arrived, he stormed into the medical wing, barking orders at the staff to get the best doctors, the best equipment. The scientists scurried like frightened mice, too afraid of the wrath that radiated off him to question anything. They worked quickly, setting her up in a private room, hooking her up to machines that would monitor her vitals, but Homelander never left her side.

He watched as they worked, his eyes never leaving her face. He didn’t trust them, didn’t trust anyone with her life except himself. But he knew he couldn’t save her alone. Not this time.

As the night wore on, he sat by her bedside, his hand gently holding hers. He could feel the warmth returning to her skin, hear her heartbeat growing stronger, but she still hadn’t woken up. He prayed, silently and desperately, to whatever gods might listen, that she would open her eyes, that she would come back to him.

For hours, he stayed there, refusing to leave even when the doctors assured him she was stable. He couldn’t leave her, not again. The sight of her lying there, so still and fragile, filled him with a fear he hadn’t felt in years. The fear of losing her all over again.

As dawn broke, casting a soft light through the window, he finally allowed himself to hope. Her breathing was steady, her heartbeat strong, and though she was still unconscious, he could see the signs of life returning to her.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispered, his voice filled with a determination that had carried him through countless battles. “I’ll make sure of it.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, the first real sign of tenderness he had shown anyone in years. As he pulled back, he saw a flicker of movement in her eyes, a twitch of her fingers, and his heart leaped in his chest.

“Come back to me,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “Please.”

And for the first time since he had found her, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she would.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

HELP ME HOLD ONTO YOU / WE WILL NEVER GO BACK

katsuki bakugou x reader

after the war, katsuki still deals with the trauma and the hurt. in a moment of what he thinks is weakness, you help him through a panic attack.

based on a convo i had with @suksatoru ❄️

inspired by the archer + the great war

after the war, he’s seen cruelty. he knows it well.

his knuckles were bruised like violets, long after his injuries healed and his blood stopped escaping him. the flashes of the battle still came back to him in hazy blurs. he’s got a hundred thrown out speeches, things he could still say but doesn’t.

he was now the #1 hero. he married you and became one of the most well-respected men in the country. he survived the war. but he still feels like the hero in him, maybe just a small part, died alongside those undeserving villains.

he’s getting old, and he knows what it feels like to be on both sides. he’s been the archer, and he’s been the prey. he survived, but now more eyes were on him. he could survive the battle, but now, he wasn’t sure if he could survive ever knowing if he’ll live up to what he’s made out to be.

the great, mighty explosion king katsuki bakugou actually had doubts about himself.

and he can't thank you enough for being there for him. things have been insanely stressful lately. theres been more crime and more unrest, and he feels like he's going to go insane from sheer exhaustion. the room is on fire, but only for him. theres invisible smoke only he can see. where everyone sees a strong, selfless hero, katsuki sees a soldier returning only half his weight.

right now, he’s pacing like a ghost. he’s just gotten home and somehow, all the oxygen has been swept from his lungs. he feels his knees get weak as he tried to make sense of it all- the bloodshed and those crimson clovers. if he survived, why did he feel like punishing himself for things he never did? why was he justifying it?

he hates his reflection. he has for years. all of his heroes, everyone he’s believed in has died, all alone and away from him. apart of him is waiting for that dark side, that sign that he isn’t actually alright here.

he sinks down on the couch, defeated. he doesn’t even realize he’s crying.

not until you gently cup his face, and wipe away his tears.

he blinks, breathing still ragged. he acknowledges that you’re there but can’t make out anything. his vision is blurred with salt streams.

the sound of your voice, asking him whats wrong, barely registers in his mind. his red eyes search to find you, and you can see that pain. he’s hurt. he’s wounded. and he’s pretending that he isn’t.

“breathe.” you whisper. he honestly expects you to yell, to slap him back to reality. but you don’t. you hush him to safety. “breathe, katsuki.”

he tries to follow your instruction, focusing on his breathing. he tries to ruminate on the feeling of your hands gently rubbing his back, or the subtle weight in his lap, and the feeling of your hair against his skin. but god dammit, it's hard.

he’s struggling to keep his breathing regulated, taking short, shaky breaths, as he continues to hold onto you.

you take his hand, and place it over your beating heart. somewhere in the haze, you’re helping him hold onto you.

and he feels it. the steady, reassuring beats of your heart. the rhythm of blood pumping through your veins. he takes in the feeling, letting it wash over his senses. he can slowly feel the panic start to subside, his breaths coming out more regularly, at least for a moment. he can still faintly feel his heart pounding against his chest, and his breaths stuttering every now and again. he’s terrified that at any moment, the panic will take over again. he never wants to go back to that.

you take his face in your hands, making sure he’s listening. “nod if you can understand me.”

he nods, trying to focus on your words. the feeling of your hand on his face, and the touch of your forehead against his- it's grounding him. its helping him to calm down, and he's so fucking grateful for that. even though his legs are shaking, and he's still holding onto you desperately, he nods, letting you know that he's still conscious. he wasn’t gonna let this win. he was stronger than it. you made him stronger.

“feel around… you’re on the couch, your feet are on the ground. your hand is over my heart. you’re safe, katsuki.” you whisper.

he does as he's told. he feels the soft fabric of the couch under him. his feet and legs firmly planted on the ground, and can feel the warmth of your heart through your chest, and the way it's beating so steadily. he’s safe. he’s home. he’s with you.

you reassure him more, telling him he’s doing so good. and he is, evident by the way his breathing steadies down. after a few more minutes, his eyes blink open. and you couldn’t be happier.

“you back with me, kats?” you softly smile, seeing his red eyes lose their tears.

he sighs, burying his head into your shoulder. “yeah. i’m here.”

he’s embarrassed.

you stroke the back of his neck, letting him rest on you. he’s tired, and he’s scared. you know you have to address what caused this, but for now, you give him this grace of silence.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whisper.

suddenly, the war turned into something much bigger. it wasn’t a just a battle, it was something that stayed with him for years. somewhere in the haze, he’s scared of betrayal. that soon, everyone will see through him. even he sees right through him.

“i don’t know where to start.” he quietly groans.

you nod, understanding. “just… tell me whats on your mind.”

he swallows again, his mind still fuzzy, trying to figure out what to say. theres just so much that he’s thinking about right now, but he knows he needs to tell you. he can’t keep bottling it all up. so after a few deep breaths, he finally speaks up.

"….i’m exhausted, babe.” he sighs, like he’s confessing to a crime. “everything’s been so goddamn stressful lately. work has been insane, and… i just feel like i can't catch a break. i just… i wish i had more time away from it. to just… i don't know. decompress."

it doesn’t fully articulate everything he’s feeling, but it does give you a good idea of where this is all coming from.

you sigh, stroking his cheek and pointing out the one thing he’s afraid to admit to himself.

“katsuki, you have trauma.” you say. “the war left its marks on you. you can’t just expect it all to go back to normal.”

he feels like he’s down in icy ground. he doesn’t want to admit how much its hurt him- but it has. all the kings horses and all the kings men couldn’t put him together again.

“…i didn’t think i’d survive this long.” he whisper. and it breaks your heart.

he’s unable to take back those words. it’s true. he didn’t think he would survive the war. he didn’t think he was going to make it out, and that’s exactly what he’d mentally prepared himself for. and now that he’s here, and the war is over…

he’s struggling to cope with that fact. he feels lost, unsure of how to deal with surviving.

“you survived.” you whisper. “you survived but now you’re at war with yourself.”

he nods slowly. that perfectly sums up his feelings. heMs not fighting villains anymore, but that doesn’t stop the war from going on inside of him.

he’s fighting the memories. the nightmares. the constant pressure of being a hero. the constant pressure of living up to everyone’s expectations.

and he’s scared he’ll lose that fight.

“the war took apart of you you’ll never get back.” you whisper. “but… healing isn’t about becoming the person you were before. its about accepting you’ll never fully understand it, and maybe never fully be okay with it.”

katsuki bites down on his bottom lip, your words sinking in his mind. that’s something he’s been struggling to accept for a while now- that he won’t ever just be the person he was before all of this. something about him has changed. permanently.

he nods slowly, your words slowly and gradually beginning to make him feel a little better. it’s so reassuring, having you there with him right now.

“you are a hero, and you are #1. that doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to hurt. it happened to you and it hurt you. you’ll never heal if you pretend you weren’t wounded.” you whisper again. “just because you carry it well doesn’t mean its not heavy.”

your words hit him straight in the heart. you’re absolutely right. he’s never really stopped to consider that he doesn’t have to pretend to be strong, or that it’s okay to let those walls come down, even a little. he’s allowed to be vulnerable. he’s allowed to be hurt by what happened to him.

“i… i keep feeling like i’m constantly on that damn battlefield. i keep seeing it every time i’m alone. and i just… i haven’t slept properly in days.”

you nod, understanding.

“you aren’t your worst days. you aren’t what happened to you.” you remind him. honestly, he’s needed that reminder.

he hugs you tighter, like you’re the one thing keeping him afloat right now. he wonders who could possibly stay with him, let alone love him like you do.

“they ripped your heart out of your chest. no one gets to decide how much you bleed.” you tell him. because you see how much he’s trying to force the wound closed, burning himself and only worsening his pain. he hasn’t healed because he’s too scared of the hurt.

“…you really mean that?” he says, red eyes searching for lies.

he finds none, even as you nod and tell him you mean every word.

he isn’t sure what to say anymore. so when words fail, he cups your face and pressed two gentle kisses to your forehead. he survived the war, and now he will always be yours.

“i love you.” he whispers. “so damn much, idiot.”

you smile, his usual asshole-self back on the table. your arms throw around him, hugging him even tighter.

he realizes then that you could, and you will stay.

[phoenixrisingastro]

The Transits That Will Change Your Life (And Break You First)

Some transits bring excitement, expansion, and abundance.

These are not those transits.

These transits do not bring ease. They do not bring peace. They bring destruction, devastation, and inescapable transformation. They will rip you apart, piece by piece, until all that remains is the raw, unfiltered truth of who you were always meant to become.

You will not come out of them the same.

You will come out of them either broken beyond repair—or more powerful than ever before.

And by the time they’re done with you, you will understand that not all suffering is a punishment.

Sometimes, suffering is the only way to reach godhood.

Saturn Return: The Reckoning of Your Life

Occurs at 27-30, 57-60, and 87-90 years old.

Saturn does not give handouts. Saturn does not care about how much you hoped, how much you prayed, or how much you wanted things to work out.

Saturn only cares about what you have built. And if you have built something weak, it will collapse.

If you have been directionless, Saturn will force you to choose a path—or lose everything.

If you have been dishonest about what you want, Saturn will expose you.

If you have been living without discipline, Saturn will bring you to your knees.

📌 Example: A woman in her Saturn Return loses her high-paying corporate job overnight. She was good at it, but she never loved it. Saturn forces her to rebuild her career with purpose. By the time her Saturn Return ends, she has started her own business and is finally doing what she was meant to do.

📌 Example: A man marries his long-term partner before his Saturn Return. Within a year, the relationship begins to fall apart. Why? Because he built it on what was easy, not what was real. Saturn forces him to either do the work to make it last—or let it go.

If you have been doing the work, Saturn will reward you. If you have been avoiding responsibility, Saturn will strip away every illusion you have been hiding behind.

It is not here to hurt you.

It is here to make sure that when you reach your 30s, you are standing on something real.

Pluto Transits: The Death of Who You Were

Pluto does not destroy you out of cruelty.

Pluto destroys you because you were never meant to stay the same.

Pluto transits are slow, suffocating, and absolute. You will not see the change coming until it is already too late.

Pluto conjunct Sun: The complete dissolution of your identity. Your old self dies. You will become unrecognizable—for better or for worse.

Pluto conjunct Moon: Emotional breakdown. Buried traumas resurface. Every attachment is tested, and if it was built on weakness, it will end.

Pluto conjunct Ascendant: You become feared. You become unshakable. People see you differently, treat you differently. You exude something dark, hypnotic, and dangerous.

📌 Example: A woman going through a Pluto-Moon transit experiences a series of betrayals—first from friends, then from family, then from lovers. She loses her ability to trust easily, but she also learns how to see through people’s masks.

📌 Example: A man with Pluto on his Ascendant goes from being ignored to being seen as powerful, intimidating, and magnetic. People either obsess over him or try to bring him down. There is no in-between.

Pluto is not a punishment. Pluto is your evolution.

But first, you have to survive it.

Neptune Square Sun or Moon: The Beautiful Lie That Will Destroy You

Neptune does not break things. Neptune dissolves them.

This is the transit that makes you trust the wrong people, love the wrong person, or chase a dream that was never real.

Neptune square Sun: Identity crisis. You will be deceived. You will deceive yourself. You do not know who you are anymore.

Neptune square Moon: Emotional chaos. You love illusions. You mistake red flags for divine signs. You trust the wrong people.

📌 Example: A woman experiencing Neptune square her Moon falls deeply in love with someone who never truly loved her back. The relationship consumes her, drains her, and when it ends, she realizes she ignored every warning sign.

📌 Example: A man experiencing Neptune square his Sun suddenly quits his job, convinced he is meant to pursue a dream that was never real. He spends years chasing a fantasy before reality finally forces him to start over.

Neptune teaches one thing: Clarity is painful. But illusion is worse.

Uranus Opposite Sun or Moon: The Day Everything Changes

You cannot plan for Uranus. You cannot negotiate with Uranus.

Uranus is chaos. Uranus is revolution. Uranus is the moment your world flips upside down.

Uranus opposite Sun: Identity destruction. The life you thought was stable vanishes overnight.

Uranus opposite Moon: Emotional earthquakes. Relationships, family ties, and your own sense of security are obliterated.

📌 Example: A man with Uranus opposite his Sun suddenly gets fired from his job. Not because he was bad at it, but because life had a different plan for him.

📌 Example: A woman with Uranus opposite her Moon experiences a sudden breakup, followed by a cross-country move. Nothing about her life is stable anymore. But in the chaos, she finds her true path.

Uranus does not break you to hurt you.

It breaks you so that you are forced to become who you were meant to be.

Chiron Return: The Wound That Never Healed Comes Back to Finish the Job

Chiron is your deepest wound. And when your Chiron Return arrives in your late 40s-50s, it comes back to be reckoned with.

If you buried your pain, Chiron will dig it up.

If you ignored your trauma, Chiron will put it in your face.

If you thought you were healed, Chiron will test that belief.

📌 Example: A man with unresolved childhood abandonment issues finds himself suddenly alone. His friendships fall apart, his partner leaves, and he is left to confront his fear of being unloved.

📌 Example: A woman who always played the caretaker role finally snaps. She starts setting boundaries, prioritizing herself—and watching people disappear from her life because they only valued her self-sacrifice.

Chiron does not let you stay broken.

It forces you to either heal—or repeat the same cycles for the rest of your life.

Jupiter Conjunct Pluto: Power You Are Not Ready For

Jupiter expands. Pluto dominates. When they come together? You are handed something too big, too dangerous, too overwhelming.

Some people gain power.

Some people lose control.

Some people are destroyed before they ever learn how to wield it.

📌 Example: A man suddenly inherits a massive sum of money. He has never had power before. Within a year, he has lost everything.

📌 Example: A woman suddenly gains fame. At first, it is exhilarating. Then she realizes that power comes with enemies.

Jupiter-Pluto is a test. Can you handle what you have been given?

Or will it ruin you?

Final Warning: These Transits Are Coming for You

You do not get to avoid them.

You do not get to escape them.

They will rip you apart.

They will shatter your illusions.

They will drag you through the abyss.

And if you survive?

You will never fear anything again.

Because by the time these transits are done with you?

You will have become the thing that others fear.

© PhoenixRisingAstro, 2025. All rights reserved

[the-artist-grimm]

HELLO first of all I’m literally obsessed with Anthea and your whole AU, it’s so well written and your art is wonderful!! I was wondering, if it’s ok to ask, how does Anthea deal with dissenters? Has that even been a problem for her since she treats her cult members so fairly?

All dissenters are usually sent to the lamb’s first follower, Nona! She was a mother and grandmother prior to losing her entire family to heretics, and while that plus her old age has made her rather gruff, it has proven to make her very effective at dealing with problematic newcomers. Dissenters are only really seen among newcomers who are converts from the other cults-namely former witnesses.

The cult’s first dissenter was Amdusias-he was angry about being defeated and had taken Anthea’s kindness as a sign of weakness, and thus spent his entire first week picking fights with people and causing havoc until, upon injuring Anthea while they were breaking up a fight he’d started, Nona decided she’d had enough and took over, requesting that he be placed to assist her in the kitchens. After working him pretty hard for a few hours (calling out every mistake he made when cutting veggies/meal prep, calling out his poor attitude, not taking his bait to start fights-essentially breaking his chops to show she wasn't gonna let him push her over), she eventually just cornered him and gave it to him straight-his faction had ruined all of the other followers’ lives including hers, and yet the lamb had given him mercy regardless. The lamb's kindess wasn't a weakness-if anything, they were stronger for not killing him on sight.

Prior to that interaction Amdusias had been able to kinda distance the reality of the Bishop’s cruelty since he had no names, faces, or really people to put to those that'd been killed, since numbers on a report were just that, numbers. But it’s a lot harder to ignore what you’d done when the survivors are right in front of you, especially in Nona’s case with her being so blunt about what his faction took from her. A few more days of her having him work in the kitchens, and him starting to pay more attention to those in the cult (A terrier breaking down in tears sobbing when the lamb returned with her injured brother after having been pacing before the entrance for days-and from there never leaving that brother's side, a rabbit with a cane and burns on one leg, a chicken easily sent into panics at loud noises, a yellow cat and their grandmother who’s eyes had been blinded by clearly magically-induced scarring, the various screams and cries heard around the tents late in the night, always followed by the sound of someone scrambling out of their tent to go check in-

Amdusias had never considered people were left behind when the ashes and smoke settled from the rubble of new territory. He had never even considered people outside the Old Faith being more than heretical vermin till he actually had no choice but to look at them)

He apologized to the lamb soon after that, and asked if he could perhaps assist with the struggling farm situation they’d been having, and thus from there, Anthea had all dissenters passed along to Nona. Where Anthea couldn’t bring themselves to be cruel, Nona could had no issues about being blunt about things, for Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned.

That isn't to say she's mean though! She's more-so just very strict-she has zero tolerance for misbehavior and has raised far too many children and grandchildren to be phased by empty threats. She can also be kinder depending on the case, such as when it was Narinder thrown into her care, she quickly saw that rather than bitter and angry he was remorseful and heavily depressed, and thus was far gentler with him as a result. Her strictness is for those who need a reality check, and her kindness, for those who need a mother's guidance.

(Also thank you! I'm glad you like the Au! :D )

[yandere-sins]

i have read all of your genshin yandere works and just mwah, beautiful. is diluc the type of yandere to break his darling, do you think? like intentionally, unintentionally? or would he ever give up and let his darling go free under like very specific circumstances or agreements? sorry if you were already asked this and i somehow accidentally missed it!

That's such a good question! Honestly, I feel like for Diluc, it's more of an unintentional breaking, but let's be honest: the psyche can only endure so much, and after being locked away and robbed of their autonomy, I don't see much hope for a darling. He thinks he's making the best choice for them, but living like he invisions just... isn't.

I don't see him intentionally letting them go either... especially not if they have a breakdown. But, I got some idea for this so I hope you enjoy it just as much!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"I... I just can't."

With your wrist still locked in his grip, having been caught in motion to avoid your punch, Diluc felt your body sag before he even understood what was happening. Your voice, booming and screaming, had been so prevalent in his mind, the insults shooting directly into his heart like piercing sharp arrows, causing havoc to every inch of his being, that your feeble, foreboding words didn't register as fast.

And yet, before your knees could hit the floor, before you could inflict more pain to yourself—the only pain he couldn't save you from—he caught you. His arms, as strong and steady as his resolve to save you from the cruelty of the world, wrapped around your waist, interrupting your descend to the ground. However, Diluc realized quickly he could not prevent it from happening as your strength just seemed to vanish as the seconds passed by.

Together, you two sunk, his knees the only ones getting bruised as he cushioned the fall for you, one more plea of devotion that went unnoticed. And yet, when he let go of your wrist, it didn't collapse to your side, but to his shoulder, fingers burying into his coat, making him regret not changing his attire to something cleaner, more comfortable for you.

There was no sound accompanying the end of the war you had been waging with him, although he was a passive bystander in the chaos you created. It was so quiet; even the candle burning on your nightstand was louder than your shallow breaths of defeat. It almost made him nervous. Diluc had heard enough dying breaths to know the signs, but your fingers were so strongly interwoven with the fabric around his body that he knew it couldn't be. You were holding on to him as you were losing yourself.

Just to be sure, he wrapped his arms tighter around you.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice breaking between the words as the situation finally realized in his mind. It was strange. You never faltered when you were angry, never stopped ignoring him, no matter how painful it was for him. And yet, you stopped abruptly, the mood snapping like a weak twig beneath his feet, touched him and held on for dear life. As if it was his fault, and yet, you let him reap the rewards.

It was everything he ever wanted.

Having you clutch to him, whatever the reason may be, and being able to hold you back without your palms shoved into his chest, your eyes filled with hatred as you told him to "back off". Have you rely on him, use him for comfort, and let him give you all the remnants of love he could still harbor in his heart that his past had burnt into a crisp. Something terrible was happening, and yet, as Diluc watched you deflate, resting on his lap like a lover rather than a prisoner, he was smiling for the first time in a long while.

"I can't," you whispered, your voice hoarse and damaged from yelling, too weak to speak up. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep living like this, I'm... I'm tired."

For a moment, no one said anything, the silence so much more telling than any explanation could be. Yet, like an idiot, Diluc wished you'd speak up. Give him a verbal sign of what was going on—any, really.

And you did. Your head lowered to his chest as if it was too heavy to hold, your body sagging a bit more on his lap. Luckily, his arms were already there to catch you, his palms coming to rest across your back, steading you, the touch searing. For the first time in his life, he was afraid of burning off his own fingertips, and yet, he didn't move them away from you, unable to waste this moment. You might never let him touch you like this again. Hold you. Comfort you.

That's when it finally hit him.

It took him long enough, but perhaps you needed the time to come to terms with it, too. His heart lept while yours seemed to settle. Diluc was overcome with love and adoration while you banished the last forces of fight from your mind, sinking into exhaustion. It's been years and you only realized now that you lost a war that was never one to begin with. You've used up all your resources and burned through all your motivation. All that was left was an ashen battlefield, you and him.

It wasn't until many hours later that Diluc put you to bed, having held you through most of the night while you slept. The irking feeling that maybe it would be back to normal tomorrow didn't deter him from enjoying the peace he was starting to get addicted to. Brushing your hair out of your face and leaving a few kisses on your forehead, cheeks, and a brazen one on your lips, he admired your sleeping face, your brows furrowed but otherwise peaceful visage. 

Even if things were to change the next day, he was thankful for this wonderful night, wishing for it to never end, and yet he couldn't wait to see what more there was to come. Every day with you was just that special. Diluc didn't realize the loss that had happened. Unable to feel anything but gratitude for your change of attitude. 

And in a spur-of-the-moment decision, he shrugged off his coat and pushed off his boots, joining you by your side in the bed, something he never allowed himself to do. It felt right. Like the place he belonged. Resting his arms around you, he now knew how it could be, already getting addicted to the feeling of being close to you. 

Maybe you'd soon wake him up with another screaming and crying outburst, but that night had fueled him with enough love for you to keep going, even more sure now that what he did was the right thing. 

Diluc won that night, and his fire continued to burn through everything you held dear. Your pride, your freedom, your whole essence of being. Yet his fire just kept on spreading, rising, devouring everything, fueled by love that only seemed to keep coming the more you gave up.

Until you were completely engulfed in his flames, unable to ever distinguish them.

[satorulovebot]

CURSED SEAS CHAPTER ONE | the rouge captain

pairing — gojou satoru x fem!reader

genre —heavy angst, pirate au, 18+ 

summary — all your life you’ve been taught to hate pirates and the sins they have committed against god. you've always strived to be a good citizen upholding the law and avoiding the lawless, but when you meet the infamous captain gojou, known to be dangerous and cunning, you realize that survival in this world often requires sacrifices. sometimes, that sacrifice is your sanity.

tags/warnings. alcohol, religious themes, death, themes of depression, and criminal activity, it's a pretty tame chapter tbh.

notes. 6.2k wc. yeah we’re back baby with another series because i can’t sit still. i saw fan art (image 1) and (image 2) of pirate gojo and said yk what i’m gonna do a pirates of the caribbean inspired series. idk enjoy some brain rot. also know just like my introductory paragraphs my first chapters are ass and fast-paced.

next. HELP WANTED!

general masterlist -> series masterlist

Captain Satoru Gojou.

You had heard whispers of the infamous Captain Gojou for years. His name was spoken with fear in every port town along the coast. Some say he is invincible, that his ship, the Infinity, is the fastest to ever sail the seas. Others claimed he was dangerous, ruthless, and cunning—a man who showed no mercy to those he deemed too weak to survive in his world.

A few years back, a body washed up on the shore of Saltstone Port. The man, who was no older than twenty-five, had his eyes gouged out of his skull, and the number six was carved into the pale skin of his back. 

The discovery shocked the quiet little town, but it would not be the last time a mutilated body washed up on the shores of Saltstone Port.

You don’t miss the stagnant air at Saltstone Port. The salty breeze, tinged with the scent of rotting fish and seaweed, clung to everything it touched. It was a place where tales of Captain Gojou’s cruelty were whispered in darkened alleys and over dimly lit tavern tables, the memory of that unfortunate soul with the number six forever haunting the minds of those who dared to speak of it.

As you stood at the edge of the small dock in Elysport, you stared out at the vast ocean. You had always wondered if there was something more beyond the horizon at Saltsone and Elysport. You had only moved to Elysport in the last few years; your father claimed that it was God’s will for you to move after the death of your beloved mother.

You were just ten years old when your mother vanished without a trace, disappearing one night after her shift at the tavern. It was as if the earth had swallowed her whole, leaving no sign of where she had gone or what might have happened. The days that followed were a blur of confusion and fear, the house feeling emptier than ever without her warm presence.

Your father was a broken man during the weeks your mother was missing. Each night, he would fall to his knees, clasping his hands in desperate prayer. His voice, once strong and filled with faith, now trembled as he pleaded with whatever higher power might be listening to bring his beloved wife back to him and his young daughter. He prayed until his voice was hoarse, until tears stained his cheeks until the candles had burned down to their wicks. He sought solace in his faith, but with each passing day, the weight of uncertainty grew heavier, casting a shadow over your home.

He searched tirelessly for answers, combing the streets and questioning anyone who might have seen her. But no matter how hard he looked or how many prayers he whispered, the silence was deafening. Your mother, the heart of your small family, had simply vanished, leaving behind only questions and a growing sense of dread.

Nine agonizing weeks later, your mother’s body was discovered in a small, rotting, long-abandoned boat that had been stranded on the beach for years. You only caught a brief, heart-wrenching glimpse of her before the smallfolk, who had loved her dearly, carried her away. The once beautiful features of her face had decayed beyond recognition, maggots crawling across what little flesh remained.

Your father was utterly broken by the loss. He couldn’t understand why God would allow such cruelty to befall his family. The woman he had vowed to cherish and grow old with was gone, leaving him consumed by grief and bitterness. He became distant, his once-steady faith shaken to its core. He could not understand who would do this to his wife—a kind-hearted tavern worker known for offering a warm meal to anyone in need. The only conclusion that made sense to him was that pirates were to blame. In his mind, they were the only people capable of such barbarism, convinced that only they would commit such a gruesome act against the mother of his child.

Your father has always been a devout Christian. He was a pastor at the local church when you lived in Saltstone Port. His sermons were filled with messages of mercy and compassion. He always insisted that no one was beyond salvation, preaching that even pirates can be redeemed in the eyes of God.

But after your mother’s death, everything changed. His grief and anger warped his perspective, changing his view of life and love. The man who once preached forgiveness now called for the public execution of pirates, believing their crimes deserved the worst punishment hell could offer. An obsession now consumed him—a kind man who once spoke of compassion whose life was forever darkened by the loss of the woman he loved.

You now found yourself in Elysport, a bustling coastal city where the line between law and lawlessness begins to blur. The city's horizon is filled with the estates of wealthy merchants and the Governor’s home, a stark contrast to the docks below. The docks are always crowded, constantly filled with ships from all around the world, their sails billowing in the wind as they unload goods from distant lands. The scent of exotic spices and the sounds of vibrant marketplaces fill the air, mingling with the salty tang of the nearby sea.

In Elysport, you worked as a clerk for a small merchant. Your days were spent tallying registries, managing shipments, and handling mundane trade details. But your nights were different. They were filled with dreams of adventure, of sailing beyond the horizon where the sea meets the sky. Stories of legendary pirates and hidden treasures had always fascinated you, sparking a curiosity you kept hidden behind your daily life. Yet, you never imagined that those stories might come crashing into your own life one day.

One evening, as you were closing up shop, an old man stumbled into the store. His appearance was startling, to say the least—his clothes were tattered, his face weathered, and his hair a tangled mess. 

“Hello? Can I help you?” you called out from behind the counter, your voice slightly muffled by the shelves that obstructed you from view.

The man didn’t answer your question. Instead, his gaze darted around the shop, as if he was searching for anything suspicious that could get him in trouble. 

“You there!” he rasped, his voice rough. “I need a place to hide this.”

Your curiosity piqued at his words, you stepped out from behind the counter and faced the strange man who had entered just before closing. You assumed he was another last-minute customer, probably looking to buy something or bargain for a better price, knowing how tired workers down by the docks could be at this hour. 

You were curious but hesitant as you took the box from him. To your surprise, It was heavy for its size. The surface was adorned with intricate carvings, worn in places over time.

“What is this?” you asked, turning the box over to examine it more closely. The craftsmanship was remarkable, but there was something about it—something almost sinister.

The man watched you closely, his eyes never leaving your face. "It’s a map.” he said, "But not just any map. This map leads to something... powerful. Something that has been lost for centuries, tales of it told through generations of pirates, hidden away from those who would abuse its power."

You looked up at him, eyes wide and filled with curiosity. Why are you giving this to me?" you asked again, your voice trembling.

The man’s expression softened, a look of something almost like pity crossing his face. "Because you’re the one meant to find it," he said simply. "You’re the one who has been chosen."

"Chosen?" you whispered. "Chosen by whom? For what?"

The man smiled faintly, but there was a sadness in his eyes that made you uneasy. "You’ll understand in time," he said. "But know this: you must keep the map safe. Others would do anything to get their hands on it—dangerous people who won’t hesitate to kill for it."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You had always dreamed of sailing the seas looking for adeventure, but this... this… this was something else entirely. This was real, and it was dangerous.

You stared at him blankly, your mind racing as you tried to process the words the strange man had been saying. This was no ordinary treasure map. This was something that was hidden away for a reason.

"Why me?" you asked, your voice trembling. "Why would you trust me with something like this?"

The man’s eyes softened again, and he reached out to place a hand on your shoulder. "Because you’re different," he said quietly. "You have a strength in you that others don’t. You have a heart that won’t be easily swayed by greed or power. And most importantly... you have a destiny to fulfill."

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning that you couldn’t fully grasp. You wanted to ask the strange man more, to demand answers to the questions swirling in your mind, but something in the man’s eyes told you that he had already said all he could.

"Keep the map safe," he repeated, his voice firm. "And trust your instincts."

Before you could say anything else, the man turned and walked out the door, disappearing into the darkness of the night. You stood there for a pregnant moment, the map clutched in your hands, your mind reeling from everything that had just happened.

You looked down at the map again, the tips of your fingers trace the markings, as if trying to unlock the secrets they hold. This was it. This was what you had always dreamed of, but it was also something far more dangerous, something that could get you killed.

You knew you couldn’t do this alone. You needed help, and there was only one place you could think of where you might find it.

The merchant’s ball.

It was an event you had never been invited to before—a grand affair where the city’s most powerful and influential figures gathered. But now, with the map, you knew you had to find a way in. You needed to find someone who could help you decipher it, someone who had the knowledge and connections to help you.

As the night of the ball approached, you found yourself growing more and more restless with each passing day. The very idea of the map’s existence gnawed at the back of your mind, its mysteries out of reach. The old man’s warning lingered in your mind, too—a treasure beyond your wildest dreams, but cursed. It was a puzzle you couldn’t solve on your own, and it only fueled your determination to get an invitation to the Merchant’s Ball.

But getting an invitation was easier said than done. The ball was exclusive, and the guest list was closely guarded. You knew you couldn’t simply walk in off the street, no matter how determined you were. You needed connections, and though you had some, they were weak connections at best. Your mind raced as you considered your options, running through the names of merchants and traders you had helped over the years. Some owed you favors, but whether those favors were enough to get you into the ball was another matter entirely.

You decided to start with a merchant you knew well—a grizzly man named Marcus, who had been in Elysport for decades. You had helped him with his inventory more than once, making sure that certain shipments went unnoticed by the authorities, and he had always been grateful for your help. You found him in his usual place, a small tavern near the docks.

“Marcus!” you greeted him with a smile as you approached his table.

He looked up, his weathered face breaking into a grin. “Ah, it’s you. Come to save me from my spending again?”

“Not this time,” you replied, taking a seat across from him. “I need a favor.”

His smile faded slightly, and he set down his flagon of ale. “A favor, eh? What kind of favor?”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I need an invitation to the Merchant’s Ball.”

Marcus leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows raised. “The ball? That’s a big favor, lass. Those invitations are hard to come by.”

“I know,” you admitted. “But I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching your face. “What’s this about? You’re not one for fancy parties.”

You looked around the tavern, ensuring no one was listening, then leaned in closer. “I’ve come across something… valuable. But I need help deciphering it. The ball is my best chance to find someone who can.”

Marcus’s expression turned serious. “Something valuable, you say? What kind of valuable?”

“I can’t say too much,” you said, lowering your voice. “But it’s big, Marcus. If I can figure it out, it could change everything.”

He was silent for a moment, considering your words. Finally, he nodded. “All right. I can get you in. But you’ll owe me for this, understand?”

You nodded, a smile present on your face. “Thank you, Marcus. I won’t forget it.”

True to his word, Marcus got you an invitation, and the day of the ball soon arrived. You spent hours preparing, trying to calm the nervous flutter in your stomach. The dress you chose was simple yet elegant, a deep blue silk that flowed like water as you moved. You had never worn anything so fine before, and as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you barely recognized the woman staring back at you. But tonight wasn’t about appearances—it was about seizing an opportunity, about finding answers to the questions that had been plaguing your mind since that fateful night in the shop.

When the carriage finally arrived to take you to the Governor’s Palace, you felt a mixture of excitement and fear. The city seemed more alive than usual as you made your way through the cobblestone streets, the sounds of laughter and music drifting on the night air. As the palace came into view, its tall columns were bathed in the warm glow of hundreds of lanterns. The grandeur of it all was overwhelming and it was a far cry from the rough and weathered streets of Elysport that you were used to.

You clutched your invitation tight as you approached the entrance, the doorman barely glancing at it before stepping aside to let you pass. The moment you stepped inside, you were encompassed in a world of luxury, unlike anything you had ever seen. The foyer was vast with marble floors gleaming under the light of large crystal chandeliers. Ornate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of grand battles and lavish feasts. Servants moved about with precision, carrying trays of champagne and delicate hors d'oeuvres, while the guests—dressed in their finest silks and satins—murmuring amongst themselves, their laughter filling the air.

You followed the flow of people into the main ballroom, your heart pounding as you took in the sight before you. The room was massive, with tall, arched windows that offered a view of the moonlit gardens outside. The walls were painted in rich, warm tones, and the floor was a mosaic of polished marble that reflected the golden light of the chandeliers. Musicians played soft melodies in one corner, their music blending in seamlessly with the murmur of conversation.

For a moment, you hesitated, feeling out of place. You had never been in a setting like this, surrounded by wealth and power. But you squared your shoulders, reminding yourself of the reason you were here. You weren’t just a simple clerk from the docks anymore; tonight, you were a woman with a purpose, a secret map, and a mission.

The ballroom was extravagant, to say the least. It made you feel sick that only a select few could enjoy things like this without worrying when their next meal would be or if they would be able to afford basic necessities. But were you any better than these people? After all the only reason you’re here is because you have good connections, just like the people in this room.

As you look to your left, you notice the couples dancing around the floor, their conversations blending in with the soft music. It was all very odd, like a dream you didn't want to wake up from.

“Enjoying the festivities?” A smooth and confident voice interrupted your thoughts. You turned to see a tall figure standing just a few feet away, his face obscured by a mask similar to yours.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, though you couldn’t quite figure out why. There was something about him, something unsettling in the way he carried himself, in the way he seemed to command the space around him. His mask was pale, almost ghostly, with intricate blue patterns that drew your gaze.

“I suppose,” you replied, keeping your voice light, though the unease you felt was seeping into your words. “These sorts of events are always a bit... overwhelming.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and smooth, “Yes, they can be,” he agreed, taking a step closer, his eyes—bright and unnervingly blue—locked onto yours through the slits in his mask. “But they can also be... enlightening if you know where to look.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, your mind racing as you tried to understand his words. Was he just making conversation, or was there something more to his statement? You couldn’t tell, and that made you more on edge.

“Is that so?” you asked, forcing a smile as you took another sip of your champagne, trying to calm your nerves.

He nodded, his gaze never wavering. “Indeed. You’d be surprised what you can learn at a gathering like this, especially if you keep your eyes and ears open.”

There was something in the tone of his voice, something that made you think he wasn’t just talking about useless gossip or civil conversation, at something deeper, something more dangerous, and it set you on edge.

The two of you sat in silence for a brief moment.

“Do you come to these kinds of events often?” you asked, trying to change the topic of conversation, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that this man was anything but safe.

“From time to time,” he said with a shrug. “But tonight is special. Tonight, I’m here for something—someone—quite specific.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you felt a chill run down your spine. It was the way he said it, the way his eyes seemed to pierce through you like daggers, it was as if he knew exactly who you were and what you were here for.

But, that was impossible, you thought to yourself. You were just a clerk, a regular person caught up in something far beyond your understanding. There was no way he could know about the map, about the treasure. No one knew. No one except—

“Do I know you?” you asked, the question slipping out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

His smile widened, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps,” he said vaguely, his voice a low murmur that sent another shiver down your spine. “Or perhaps you’ll get to know me soon enough.”

Before you could respond, before you could even process his words, the doors to the ballroom burst open with a deafening boom. The music stopped abruptly, the room falling into shocked silence as everyone turned to see what happened.

A group of masked men stormed into the room, their swords drawn as they advanced on the crowd. Panic erupted, the guests screaming and scrambling to get away as the intruders began tearing through the ballroom, overturning tables, smashing glass, and sending the wealthy world of the Elysport elite into chaos.

You barely had time to react before you felt the man’s hand on your arm, pulling you toward the nearest exit. His grip was firm, his expression unreadable beneath the mask as he guided you through the panicked crowd, dodging the chaos that surrounded you.

“Stay close,” he ordered, his voice calm despite the madness. “We’re not done yet.”

And with that, you were swept away into the night, the sound of the destruction behind you fading as the mysterious man led you away from the scene, leaving you to wonder who he really was—and what he wanted with you.

The cool night air hit your face as you were pulled out of the grand ballroom and into the dimly lit streets of Elysport. The contrast between the noise and chaos of the ball and the quiet moonlit streets was jarring. You were still reeling from the events that had unfolded, your heart pounding in your chest, and your mind racing with questions.

The man holding your hand was strong, his grip firm but not painful, leading you through the labyrinth of narrow alleyways that twisted and turned through the dark city like a maze. The commotion of the party faded into the background, replaced by the distant sounds of the sea and the occasional creak of a ship down at the docks. The city was alive with the whispers of its nightlife, but you felt completely alone, alone with this stranger who seemed to know everything about you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he slowed his pace and came to a stop in a small and secluded courtyard. The stone walls of the surrounding buildings loom above you and the walls cast deep shadows that obscured your surroundings. The man released your hand, leaving you standing in the center of the courtyard.

As you took a moment to catch your breath, thoughts reeled through your mind. Who was this man? What did he want with you? And why had he chosen to rescue you from the ball? You looked around, trying to get a sense of where you were, but the courtyard was unfamiliar, and the darkness made it almost impossible to see anything.

Before you could gather your thoughts, the man stepped forward again, more calculated and more predatory. His movements were fluid as if he were completely at ease in the darkness. He reached up, and with a swift motion, removed the mask that had concealed his face.

You gasped, taking a step back as the light of the moon revealed his features. The man standing before you was impossibly handsome, his striking blue eyes piercing through the shadows with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. His white hair, which had been partially hidden beneath the mask, now fell loosely around his face, giving him an almost ethereal appearance. But it was the look in his eyes that truly unsettled you—as if he could see right through you.

"You're a difficult person to track down," he said, his voice smooth and confident, with a hint of amusement.

You took another step back, your mind racing. "Who are you?" you demanded, trying to keep your voice steady.

He tilted his head slightly, a small, almost playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Who I am isn't important," he replied his tone light, almost amused. "What matters is what I know."

A chill ran down your spine at his words. You felt like a cornered animal, trapped with no way out. "W-what do you want from me?" you stuttered, trying to keep the fear out of your voice.

His smile widened slightly, but his eyes remained cold and calculating. "You know what I want," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You have something that belongs to me."

Your heart skipped a beat, and your thoughts immediately jumped to the map. How did he know about that? The old man had warned you that it was cursed, that it would bring you nothing but trouble, but you didn't think it would be anything like this.

The man's smile faded, and his expression grew more serious. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. "Don't play games with me," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "I know you have the map. And I know you've been looking into it."

"I don't have it," you insisted. "I got rid of it."

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing you. "Is that so?" he took a step forward, "Because from what I've heard, you've been asking around about certain landmarks. Places that just so happen to match the ones on the map."

Your heart sank. He knew too much. There was no point in lying anymore. But you couldn't just hand the map over to him—not without knowing who he was and what he planned to do with it.

"Why do you want it?" you asked, trying to buy yourself some time. "What's so important about this treasure?"

The man studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "That's none of your concern," he said finally, his tone dismissive. "All you need to know is that it's mine. And I intend to get it back."

"And if I don't give it to you?" you challenged.

He smiled again, but this time there was no warmth in it. "Then I'll take it from you," he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You stared at him, trying to gauge his intentions. There was something about him—something dangerous and unpredictable—that made you believe he wasn't bluffing. But at the same time, you couldn't just give up the map. Not without knowing what it was all about, and what it could lead to.

"I need more time," you said finally, hoping to stall him. "Let me think about it."

The man studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, he nodded. "Very well," he said. "But don't take too long. I'm not a patient man."

He turned to leave, but then paused mid-way, glancing back at you over his shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing," he added, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Don't try to run. I'll find you. No matter where you go."

With that, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone in the courtyard. You stood there for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Who was this man? How did he know so much about you? And what was he planning to do with the map?

You knew you had to be careful. Whatever this treasure was, it was clearly important enough for someone like him to go to great lengths to get it. But at the same time, you couldn't just hand it over without knowing more. You had to find out what this was about—before it was too late.

You quickly made your way back to your small house, your mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. You weren't going to let anyone intimidate you—not even someone as dangerous as him.

As you reached your door, you paused, glancing around nervously. The man's warning echoed in your mind—he would find you, no matter where you went. But you couldn't let that stop you. You had to find out the truth, no matter the cost.

With a deep breath, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. The map was hidden in a small, secret compartment in the floorboards—a place you thought no one would think to look. You retrieved it, carefully unfolding the worn parchment and studying the markings on it.

You had to figure out what this map was leading to, and why it was so important. As you stared at the map, a new plan began to form in your mind. You would find someone new who could help you decipher it—someone who knew the legends of the sea better than anyone else. And then, you would find the treasure before anyone else could.

But even as you made your plans, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched. The man's piercing blue eyes seemed to haunt your every thought, his warning lingering in the back of your mind.

You knew you were playing a dangerous game. But you had no choice.

And so, with the map clutched tightly in your hands, you made your decision. You would find the treasure—no matter what it took.

The city was bustling when you stepped out onto the streets, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cobblestone road. You knew where you needed to go—there was a tavern on the edge of the city, where sailors and pirates would gather to share stories. It was a risky move, venturing into such a place, but you were running out of options.

As you made your way through the streets, you kept an eye out for any sign of the man from the night before. You couldn’t afford to be caught off guard again.

Finally, you reached the tavern, it was a weathered building with a creaky old sign hanging above the door. The scent of salt and ale greeted you as you stepped inside, the dimly lit interior filled with the low hum of conversation. You spotted a few rough-looking sailors at the bar, their eyes looking toward you with curiosity as you made your way to a secluded corner.

You ordered a drink as you tried to blend in, waiting for the right moment. You needed to be careful about who you approached—trust was a rare occurrence in a place like this.

As the minutes ticked by, you watched the patrons of the tavern by studying their movements and listening to parts of their conversations. You were looking for someone who seemed knowledgeable, someone who might have heard of the map or the treasure it led to.

Finally, your patience was rewarded. An old sailor whose face had been weathered by years at sea, sat down at the table next to yours. He wore a tattered grey coat and a wide-brimmed hat. He seemed like the kind of man who had seen his fair share of the world, the kind of man who might know more than he let on.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage, and leaned toward him. "Excuse me," you said quietly, your voice steady. "I was wondering if you might be able to help me with something."

The sailor turned to look at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. "Depends on what you’re asking.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal to the man before you. But you had to take a chance. "I’m looking for information about a map," choosing your words with care. "A map that leads to a treasure. But I don’t know where to start."

The sailor’s eyes flickered with a hint of interest, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "A treasure map, you say?" he repeated, leaning back in his chair. "Well, now, that’s a dangerous thing to be looking for, especially in a place like this."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "I know it’s risky," you admitted. "But I need to find out what this map leads to. And I was hoping you might know something about it."

The sailor stroked his chin thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving yours. "There’s a lot of talk about treasures and maps in these parts," he said slowly. "Most of it’s just nonsense, stories made up to entertain drunk sailors. But every now and then, you hear about something real—something worth risking your life for."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "If you’ve got a map, and it’s real, you’d better be careful who you share it with. There are people out there who would do anything to get their hands on a treasure like that."

You swallowed hard with the weight of his words sinking in. "I understand," you said quietly. "That’s why I’m being careful. But I need to know more about what I’m dealing with."

The sailor nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. "Alright," he said finally. "I’ll tell you what I know. But it won’t come cheap."

You reached into your pocket, pulling out a small pouch of coins. It wasn’t much, but it was all you had. "Will this be enough?" you asked, hoping it would suffice.

The sailor took the pouch, weighing it in his hand before nodding in approval. "It’ll do," he said, tucking the pouch into his coat. "Now, let me see that map of yours."

You hesitated for a moment before reaching into your bag and pulling out the map. You unfolded it carefully, laying it out on the table between you. The sailor leaned over, his eyes scanning the markings and symbols.

After a few moments, he let out a low whistle. "Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "This is the real deal."

You leaned forward eagerly, your heart racing. "What does it say?"

The sailor glanced up at you, his expression serious. "This map," he said slowly, "leads to a place that’s been whispered about for generations. A place where a great pirate captain supposedly buried his most valuable treasures. But it’s not just gold and jewels we’re talking about. There are stories of powerful artifacts."

"But it’s not going to be easy," the sailor continued. "The path to that treasure is full of danger. There are traps, curses, and worse things that guard it. And if you’re not careful, you’ll end up just like the others who’ve tried and failed to find it."

You felt a chill run down your spine at his words. "What do you mean, 'the others'?" your voice barely above a whisper.

The sailor’s expression darkened. "There have been others before you," he said quietly. "People who thought they could outsmart the dangers and claim the treasure for themselves. But none of them ever made it back. Their ships were found wrecked, their crews dead or missing. And those who survived were driven mad by what they found."

You swallowed hard, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "So, what do I do?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

The sailor looked at you for a long moment before speaking. "If you’re serious about this, you’ll need to prepare yourself," he said. "Find a crew you can trust, people who know how to handle themselves in a fight. And most importantly, keep that map close. There are others who would kill to get their hands on it."

You nodded, "I’ll do whatever it takes."

The sailor nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that," he said. "Just be careful. This world is full of dangers, and not all of them are as obvious as a pirate’s blade."

With that, he stood up, tipping his hat to you before turning to leave. "Good luck, lass," he said over his shoulder. "You’re going to need it."

You watched him go, your mind racing with everything he had told you. The treasure was real, and it was more dangerous than you could have ever imagined. But you were determined to find it, no matter what it took.

You took the map and carefully folded it and tucked it back into your bag. With a deep breath, you stood up and left the tavern, your heart pounding in your chest. You had a lot of work to do, and there was no time to waste.

As you walked back through the city streets, the weight of the map seemed heavier than ever. You knew you were about to embark on a journey that would change your life forever, one that would test your courage, your resolve, and your very soul.

But despite the fear that lingered in the back of your mind, there was also a sense of excitement—a thrill at the thought of uncovering something that had been hidden away for centuries that not even the best pirates could find.

You had the map and you had the determination, now all you needed was the right people. And once you had that, there would be nothing stopping you from finding the treasure and claiming it for yourself.

The night was still young as you made your way back to your small home. You were ready to face whatever challenges came your way, to risk everything for the chance to uncover the secrets of the map.

And as you reached your door, the words of the mysterious man from the ball echoed in your mind: "I’ll find you, no matter where you go."

You knew he was out there, watching, waiting for the right moment to strike. But you weren’t afraid. You were ready for whatever came next.

series masterlist -> chapter 2

[himasgod]

ANGST! Scaramouche x Reader

(0.8k words :p)

Where you met, after having been running away from each other for so long.

The gentle breeze of Sumeru caresses your face, but the air, despite its warmth, fails to dispel the emptiness you feel in your chest. You have been traveling for weeks, trying to forget. Trying to escape. Although, deep down, you know that you cannot escape something that lives inside you.

In front of you, a familiar figure stands against the horizon. His wide, extravagant hat, his carefree, haughty walk, everything about him speaks of arrogance, of an ironclad confidence that nothing could break. But you know better.

It is he, the Wanderer. Or Scaramouche, as you used to call him in those days full of betrayals and shadows. Now, nameless, homeless, it seems that he has always been on the run, just like you.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, louder than you feel. Your voice trembles, betraying you.

He doesn’t bother to look at you at first, just keeps walking, his footsteps echoing in the dust of the road. Finally, his gaze falls on you, as cold as the blizzards of Snezhnaya. “Did you expect me to run into your arms or something? Ridiculous.”

You try to contain the trembling in your hands. You know him well enough to know that beneath that mask of indifference, there are overflowing emotions. Pain. Anger. Despair. Just like you.

“You’ve always run away,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. But something in your voice makes him pause, his eyes narrowing as he examines you.

“And you? What have you done but run after me, chasing the shadows of what you think I am?” His words cut like sharp blades, each one aimed to wound with surgical precision. But, instead of flinching, you take a step forward.

“You’ve been haunted by your own ghosts, too, Scaramouche. You can pretend you don’t care, that you don’t feel anymore, but…” Your voice breaks, and you can’t go on. He watches you, a sardonic smile curling his lips.

“Feeling is a weakness, don’t you understand? I’m a puppet. A being without a heart, without a soul. None of this matters.” But even as he says it, you notice how his fists clench, the small signs of an anger he hasn’t learned to master. An anger directed as much at you as at himself.

“If none of this matters, why are you still here? Why didn’t you just go into oblivion, like you so wanted to?” The silence that follows your words is overwhelming. You see the internal struggle in his eyes, the memories that torment him, the decisions that led him to this point.

Finally, Scaramouche takes a step towards you, his face closer to yours than it has been in a long time. “Because, in the end, even a puppet can hate those who made it feel, those who betrayed it… even those who tried to understand it.”

His words are cruel, but behind that cruelty you recognize the cry of someone who has suffered more than he would ever admit. The Wanderer, the being who gave up everything so he wouldn’t have to deal with the weight of pain, is still unable to break free from the chains of the past.

“I never wanted you to be hurt like that,” you whisper. You’re not sure if he hears you, but you say it anyway. He remains silent for a few eternal seconds, his gaze fixed on you.

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted. In the end, everyone betrays. It’s the nature of humans.”

You move even closer, searching his gaze for any trace of the person you once knew, the puppet who had learned to feel, to trust, before everything fell apart. “But you’re not like the others. You are not just a puppet, Scaramouche. You have lived, you have loved… and you have suffered.”

His laugh is bitter, almost heartbreaking. “Loved… Do you think that makes me anything more than a broken toy? Love has no place in a life like mine. It never did.”

But then you see it, the small chink in his armor, the vulnerability he has tried to bury for so long. And you realize something: he may be broken, but so are you. And, perhaps, in that shared brokenness, there is a spark of understanding, of connection.

“That may be so,” you say, your voice shaking. “But that doesn’t mean we have to keep running away.”

He looks at you, surprised by your words. For a moment, something in his expression changes, a shadow of doubt passes over his face. But, as always, he quickly composes himself, taking a step back, his countenance cold again.

“There is nothing to run away from anymore,” he replies coldly. “Because for me, the whole world has ceased to matter.”

And with those words, he turns his back once more, slowly walking away, while you stay there, in the same place, watching as the distance between you grows ever greater.

Perhaps he will never be able to free himself from his chains. Perhaps, in his endless journey, he is doomed to get lost again and again. But, even so, you can't help but call out to him one last time, with a small hope lit in your chest.

“Scaramouche.”

He doesn't stop, but in the whisper of the wind, you swear you heard a single word:

“Goodbye.”

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[naomikozura]

Playing with Fire: Prologue

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, harassment, fraud, abandonment, bullying, mention of violence, poverty, mention of kidnapping (mentioned as a worry), (Let me know if I missed any!)

WC: 5.9K

Summary: Weak, poor, bottom of the barrel, that's all you'll ever be. Forced to live a life on the street only to be swept away and for some reason have the odds of meeting Gotham's most infamous Vigilante's sidekick.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Prologue

The nights this year had gotten colder than they had been the past few years. There had been something that went around Gotham the past few weeks, the sense of fear had risen the past few months, there hasn’t been anything you were more sure of. It seemed that crime rates had gone down this holiday season and that could probably be thanks to the amazing duo that was making more appearances as of late. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so safe in this horrid city.

The skyline seems to illuminate the city in a beautiful way, especially since the city seemed to die down so it was the only sign of life during the late hours of the night. You looked over the skyline and wondered if there could be a day you could afford to live in one of those beautiful buildings, to not move around from backyard to backyard or sneaking into hotels just to have a place to sleep at night.

It wasn’t easy being completely alone in a city like this, especially not as a 14 year old, it was absurd and dangerous. You had to find your own means to survive and more times than not, it was not the easiest thing to do. Staying up all night out of fear of being abducted, or spending afternoons going hungry, or not being able to sneak your clothes into the washers at the laundromat. You could find ways to keep up your appearances to make it seem like you weren’t at the absolute bottom of what was Gotham City, but in the end, that was exactly what you were.

Bottom of the barrel. A nobody.

You grabbed the small bag that was next to you and found your way to the door that led to the top of the building. Opening it, and going down the stairs, you managed to grab a key to one of the rooms in the hotel from the maids that were on the fifth floor. You had a way of perfecting the art of scamming your way into hotels so that you didn’t have to spend the night on the street or in someone’s backyard during the cold months of the year. Gotham seemed to bring in as much snow as New York does every year and being outside when the weather was at freezing level wasn’t something you were exactly looking forward to for the third year in a row.

You slid the key into the slot and pushed the door open. Setting down your belongings on the bed, you laid back and let out a breath, letting yourself relax in a way you hadn’t been able to in a long time. You grabbed the dirty clothes and put them into the small washing machine that was inside the unit and stripped down the current clothes you were wearing so you’d be able to shower. Having a limited wardrobe was nice, you never had to struggle on what to wear but also sucked since you wore the same exact thing every single day.

You let the warm water run down your body, your hair becoming damp from the stream that was hitting it. It felt nice to be able to shower and not worry about the cruelties happening outside for once, at least for tonight you could pretend you weren’t some street kid with no future.

The past three years were difficult for you. After you ran away from the orphanage, you found yourself on the streets of Gotham, fending for yourself and doing anything possible to just survive. You found ways to scam hotels by stealing key cards and sneaking into the hotel offices just to ‘access’ the system to book your room under someone rich in Gotham so that you couldn’t be caught sneaking in. It took about two years to truly perfect the art but it became muscle memory after a while. You hadn’t been caught since. Now, you had a flash drive you'd stolen that could connect to the computers and automatically do the work for you.

You felt the hot water burn on your skin in a satisfying way, something that seemed to be a luxury for you. It wasn’t often you could come in and be able to shower since your hotel scams could only be used so often to avoid being caught. You turned the water off and stepped out, you started drying your hair and decided to turn on the TV for a while, the first channel being the Gotham City News.

You turned the volume up and continued to dry your hair, taking your clothes and putting them in the dryer, only leaving you in your undergarments and a robe that was in the suite. The news rambled a lot over politics and the businessmen in Gotham but you could care less really, especially since the majority of the millionaires didn’t care about anyone beneath them, especially not people like you.

You heard the main reporter start bringing up the same headline, the masked vigilante in black and his perfect little sidekick. Your eyes looked back at the TV to see blurry photos of the two standing on a building, off guard, but it still felt posed. You felt a sort of resentment towards the two, but also an unexplainable trust in them. They helped keep Gotham safe, but you wondered if they truly cared about the little people in Gotham, like you or any other orphan.

You turned the TV off before getting into bed and falling asleep, hoping tomorrow would bring a new beginning to your seemingly repetitive life. You wish you could just disappear, never be seen again. Get on a plane and just disappear.

For now, the thought can only be alive in your head, hoping one day it could become a reality for you.

The streets buzzed with life, businessmen taking their morning commutes to the downtown estates and taxis flooding the streets causing traffic for all the early morning people. It wasn’t rare to see people rushing to get to work and finish out the week before going off to their second lives on the streets and nightclubs in Gotham. Businessmen in speakeasies cheating on their wives, city officials betting money on illegal races or gambling with their lives for an adrenaline high. That was all this city was built on, the rush, the gamble of life. People cared too much about money, power, drugs, sex, and getting to be as secular as possible. The gamble was worth it all in the end.

It wasn’t a secret to those on the streets that these people were in connections with the powerful drug lords in Gotham. The only people who seemed to turn a blind eye were the actual people who could maintain a regular schedule, no one below them could give a fuck about what truly happened during Gotham’s day to day, it was at night that everything would come out. Skeletons would be pushed into the open, the ghosts of the past, strenuous addictions, and life ending secrets. The night life of Gotham would bring out even the toughest of peoples’ true selves.

You walked down the street down to downtown, hoping to find some new clothes at a small shop that was decently cheap for Gotham’s standards. You couldn’t stand the swarms of people that came and went, pretentious high profile rats who dressed in fancy clothes to put up an act for the outside world. You were sick of dealing with people who acted like they were better than everyone. You wish you could meet a normal person, just one.

You walked past some of the buildings and made it to the center of downtown and walked by a group of people who were leaning on the walls by the alley, reeking of cigarette smoke, who decided today would be the day to test your patience.

“Hey, little girl, wanna give us a smile?”, one of the gross looking men said.

They wore suits and had their hair nicely done, just another typical businessman in this wretched city. You kept walking, hoping they would leave you alone.

“Hey, don’t you hear us talking to you?”, another one barked out, grabbing your arm and turning you around.

“Get your filthy hands off of me.”, you bit back.

Although you lived on the streets, you always managed to find ways to keep up with your personal hygiene. Scamming hotels was the only way that was possible, and you knew your appearance would attract attention. You knew you caught men's attention, you were a young female living in a city full of pretentious, uptight, privileged people.

“Oh, come on, loosen up sweetheart. We just wanna see that beautiful smile”

“And I said, get your filthy fucking hand off of me!”, you pulled your hand, hoping to get it out of his grip. You weren’t strong, you were intelligent, sly but physically strong enough to fight a guy twice your size and age was a whole other story.

“Stop being such a bitch, you aren’t pretty enough to be talking to us that way, cunt.”, the guy grabbing you said, the shit you had to deal with was revolting.

Your heart was beating in your chest, you hadn’t ever been grabbed like this before, you didn’t know exactly how to react to this situation other than trying to come off as rude as possible. You knew there wasn’t a way to get out of this situation other than hoping you had enough energy to run for your life.

You pulled your arm back, quickly, punching the guy in the nose, ducking under the other two guys’ arms and running out of the alley they pulled you into. You heard them yell and try to go after you. You didn’t look back and kept running, crossing the street and hearing the passing taxis honking and cursing at you. You bumped into people but kept going until you made it to the other side of the city. Your lungs were burning in your chest, you had ran for 20 minutes without stopping and you felt exhausted.

You looked up and noticed you found your way to one of the schools in the area. You saw the engraving on the stone plate outside, Gotham Academy.

You saw the students inside socializing, a tug in your chest, wishing you could have a normal life like that. They had rich parents, everything they could ever ask for, and yet, that was something you could never have. You tried catching your breath and you heard a voice next to you.

You turned around and looked at the courtyard. A guy, who was a bit taller than you, held out a water bottle.

“Need some water?”, you stared at him, unsure if you should accept the offer. Your trust issues seemed to always win over the internal debate between who to trust and who to avoid.

“No.” you said sharply.

“You just seem out of breath, so I figured it might help.”, he continued.

You looked at him, then down at the bottle. You ignored him and picked your bag off the floor, and started to walk away.

“Hey!” you heard him yell, couldn’t he just leave it?

“I said no”, you turned around and were met with his chest. You looked up slightly, his eyes looking into yours, green eyes, to be exact.

“No, that’s fine, but uh, you have a bruise on your arm.”, you looked at the evident bruise, you pulled your sleeve down to try and cover it and found yourself growing self-conscious.

“It'll heal.”, you answered lamely.

You turned and kept walking, ignoring the boy who, for some reason, found you pitiful enough to try and give you charity. You weren’t a charity case and you refused to let some pretentious, rich pretty boy try and help you. Your dignity refused to let you.

You couldn’t help but feel like the whole world was out to get you. Maybe it was trauma, maybe it was distrust, regardless you wanted to rely on no one and be your own person.

You decided the path of isolation a long time ago, and there would not be anything to stop you.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later, you got caught at one of the hotels by the staff and decided to make a run for it but ended up getting tackled by one of the cops that had been on duty resulting in a bloody nose and a sprained ankle. They had called the GCPD to come in to take you to the precinct since you were a minor. You were asked some questions and were enrolled into a foster care program.

You felt a kick in your stomach, going to a pity family was the last thing you wanted, but you figured you could benefit from it. You spent the majority of the past three months in the foster shelter, later, a high class family took you in, claiming they wanted to help you, but you knew this would all be to make themselves look good in front of the other elite families in Gotham.

You were taken in a limousine, a black vehicle that would be worth twenty times anything you could ever dreamed of owning. The couple showed you to your room inside the manor, the family butler placing a new change of clothing and a robe on the bed.

You couldn’t help but feel anger dwelling inside of you, or the spitefulness of having someone take you in just to give themselves a charitable outlook. You would be known as the street orphan who got adopted by the rich and noble elite in hopes to provide a better life for them. It was pitiful, it was aggravating. You despised it.

Even so, you stayed. You stayed and prepared for the day you could leave this place. Training to keep your strength, using the technology to polish your intellect, preparing for every scenario. You always left a bag packed under the bed, a change of clothes ready and enough money to help you get food at any restaurant for a week.

It was more than enough for you to get out of Gotham and find a way to change your life entirely.

Nothing seemed to be more romanticized in your head than jumping on that plane and flying away to another part of the world and forgetting the cards of life you had been dealt.

Even so, you knew that leaving while being underage would be the most difficult part. You had no passport, barely enough money to start a new life somewhere else. All the possibilities came down to long term thoughts, though you only had short term solutions.

Your dreams of flying across the world would have to be postponed until you were more able, more of age, and more financially stable to pursue the dreams of flying to the ends of the earth to escape the wretched place you knew as home.

The goal was to leave this life, to leave Gotham.

Freedom from poverty, from abuse, from everything.

Even after you tried to escape reality, you heard the loud bell inside the academy ringing out, signaling time for classes to end. You grabbed your bag full of books and brushed the hair out of your face. You walked through the halls, trying to reach the exit doors and head home. You hated that your… ‘parents’ enrolled you into such a revolting school. A private academy with only the elite children of Gotham that were set up for success and nothing to worry about other than getting their trust funds once their parent’s retired.

You pushed through the doors and headed down the steps before you heard a group of girls sitting on the bench stare at you and start laughing.

“Is that…. Is that her?”

“Yeah, I heard that they took her off the streets after she got arrested”

“Who let a person like that into the academy? Have we started going downhill?”

Your eyes twitched at the comments of the people around you. You just so happened to be enrolled into the academy half way through the school year, so keeping a low profile would not be the easiest thing since you were the talk of the halls as the ‘new girl’. You had only been going to the academy for a few weeks, but trouble still found its way to you regardless of never talking to anyone.

You hated Gotham's elite, but hated their pretentious children even more.

You kept walking, but suddenly felt yourself losing your balance and falling to the ground. Your bag fell with you and you heard snide laughter off to the side. You lifted your head and turned behind you, looking up at a tall, blonde haired guy that had one of the girls from earlier standing next to him.

“Looks like you still enjoy picking trash off the ground, streetrat.”, he commented. The girl, presumably his girlfriend, laughed before pointing at you and your disheveled state.

I swear if they don’t leave me alone I will break her nose.

You quietly ignored them and stood up, ignoring the comments they were making, it was better for you to just walk away.

You brushed yourself off then felt a hand grab your arm, “Hey, I’m talking to you, street rat”, you heard the guy’s deep voice call to you.

You turned around, your fist already made, but not before you felt another hand weigh down your arm. You turned around and saw another guy, taller than you but shorter than the first guy that had grabbed you. He looked like he was glaring down the instigator.

“Now, let’s calm down, yeah?”, he said deeply. His eyes intently squinted hoping that the other guy would let you be. Who the hell was this guy and why is he trying to interfere in something that doesn’t include him. You felt a sort of annoyance growing inside of you, but before you could speak up, the taller guy backed away, telling his girlfriend to go with him.

“You’re lucky I don’t have time to waste on charity cases, Todd.”, and with that he left.

You wanted to punch the guy in the face and break his nose so badly but felt the anger leave you when Todd turned to say something to you. “Sorry about that, you okay? It looks like your arm might bruise up”, you looked at him and turned to grab your bag and started to walk away.

“Hey!”, he yelled after you, catching up to your speedy form. “You’re walking away again?”

Again? What did he mean by again? You turned around and met him eye to eye.

“Who are you? What do you want?”, you asked him with a sting in your tone. He looked at you with surprised eyes.

“I remember you, from a few months ago. I offered you water.”

You stared at him, confusion setting in, but you also replayed that memory in your head. Those green eyes weren’t something to just forget, you remembered how nice they looked the first time you saw them. Regardless, he wasn’t relevant enough to you to entertain the conversation any more.

“No, sorry. I think you got the wrong person.”

You said quickly before going off, ignoring the boy who just helped you from attracting more trouble. You were sure he was probably nice, but your lack of trust in others overcame any sense of truth that you could face in becoming friends or even acquaintances with anyone.

Never trust the elite.

The night was cold, it wasn't winter anymore, but the spring hadn’t settled in entirely so the crisp air of the night would entangle you in a cold front that almost seemed too much to manage while you sat on the roof of the building. You managed to sneak out after the family had gone to sleep. You were wearing a sweater and a pair of black pants.

You overlooked the city and hated the fact that there was so much happening down in the streets, it was dangerous for you to be out in the city this late but now that you had money, well the family’s money, you could afford a small bottle of pepper spray. You had your legs up to your chest, your arms wrapping around your knees and your chin resting on them. You tried to relax against the cold, but it found itself harder to do with each minute.

“It’s a bit chilly to be out here isn’t it?”

Your heart stopped in your chest and you turned around to look at who was speaking behind you, one hand in your pocket, ready to use the pepper spray if need be. You saw the person behind the voice step forward.

Tall, muscular, black domino mask on with the signature red and green suit, the yellow ‘R’ evident on his chest. He had dark hair and his physique made him appear a bit older but still seemed like he would be close to your age for sure.

“Shouldn’t you be with the Batman or did you finally get granted privileges?”, you muttered sarcastically.

“That’s funny, but I do go solo sometimes, get a feel of the streets.”, he walked over and stood next to where you were sitting. You felt him sit down with his legs hanging off the ledge of the building. “What are you doing up here? Don’t you have a curfew?”

“I snuck out. Don’t necessarily care what the family tells me.”, you answered him flatly, trying to get out of the conversation as fast as possible.

“I see, well, I’m Robin, what’s your name?”, this guy seemed way too talkative and it kind of bothered you. You just wanted to sit here in silence and this little sidekick had to come up and try to be your friend.

“If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”, you mentally begged him to say yes, wanting to be alone.

“Depends”

You glared at him, “Depends on what?”, you asked rudely.

“Depends on how this conversation goes.”

“(Y/n).”, you said through clenched teeth, your jaw tightening in annoyance.

He smiled at you before looking back over the city. “That’s a nice name”. He said before he pulled out a small bag. He handed it to you and you looked at it before meeting his eyes again.

“It’s a hand warmer”, you stared for a few seconds, examining the small bag before grabbing it from him and giving a small thank you. The both of you sat in silence, but for some odd reason, it didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward. It felt normal, neutral, and calm.

“Why are you up here alone?”, his voice almost seemed like a whisper, before you turned your head looking at him, your hair blowing in your face. “It helps me escape.”. He looked at you, not saying anything while you continued.

“I don't have to think about the world down there, I can just escape reality for a while.”, you felt him looking at you as your eyes scanned the silent city below, hearing a few loud noises every few seconds. “This city hasn’t been kind to me, so being up here lets me escape that I live in this shithole.”

“Would you leave if you could?”, he asked curiously.

“Yeah, I would. If I could hop on a plane and disappear from this city forever I would do it in a heartbeat.”, you felt as though you answered too quickly, but you found happiness in your answer. "The goal has always been to leave."

“Yeah, me too.”

You looked at him and there was something that seemed to flood the air, and right when the moment seemed too perfect to be ruined, you heard a small radio signal. It was probably his cue to leave.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.”, he apologized and you just smiled at him, waving a small goodbye. He went to jump off the building before he turned back to you and smiled. “I hope we can meet again soon, (Y/n).”.

And just like that, he was gone. A part of you was glad he was, but another strange part had hoped he could stay a little longer. For the first time since your first days in this city, you felt normal and at peace with having a conversation with someone.

You felt like there was normalcy to your life.

The next few weeks passed the exact same way, you would go to the rooftops, and almost like it was planned, the miraculous boy wonder would show up to converse and joke around. You were still cold towards him, not opening up or saying too much the first few times but after a week or two, you slowly started to open up. He helped give you a sense of peace in your life, you could slowly start trusting him. He would sometimes bring you things and would tell you about all the things he wished he could do once he was old enough to do them.

You both made a pact to pack everything once you were both old enough and leave Gotham for good. Thinking of all the places in the world to visit and being able to go out and see better parts of the world.

The both of you had grown to like each other a lot and create a sort of friendship that was unconventional, but exciting. You had similar interests, same humor, and both equally sarcastic and smartasses.

There was one night when the two of you were talking about how you both grew up. He told you how he lived on the streets and that he got taken in by Batman when he tried stealing the wheels off the Batmobile when he was 12. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing because who in their right mind would steal from Batman?

It was a nice story to laugh over and he told you about his training and how he got lucky to be able to get taken in by someone who genuinely wanted to help him. Your heart softened at his comment because it made you think about the couple who adopted you. You resented them but they had been nothing but good to you, they provided for you and because of them you had food to eat every night, new clothing, got an education, and yet your traumatized heart refused to trust them. Yet, here you were with a stranger you had only met about three months ago and already trusting them more than the people who took you off the streets.

It didn’t make sense but you tried to make it make sense in your head. You let him in on your life on the streets and you didn’t even know what he looked like, let alone his real name. There was comfort in the mystery for you, so it progressed into something more for you, wondering if the same had happened to him.

The two of you stood on the ledge of the building, you heard him mess with something in his belt and extend his hand out to you. You took it and he grabbed his grappling hook before grabbing you tightly, due to his training, you were light enough for him to carry. The wind blew in your face and your heart was pounding through your chest, the adrenaline flooding your body. He laughed out into the night and you followed. He used his feet to crash through the window of an old building and rolled to where you landed on top of him.

You looked down at him, trying to catch your breath, smiling and laughing along with him. You felt him raise his hand up and push your hair behind your ear, your smile still evident on your lips. He smiled back at you, and leaned himself up, the hot air filling the room and in a moment, you felt your whole world come to a stop. He had leaned into you, kissing your lips, and you pressed into him. Your first kiss being shared with a stranger, but was he really? You could consider him a friend now, maybe even more than that if he’d let you.

You both pulled apart and he smiled at you.

Yeah, there was something there.

The nights continued, for months and they were never boring but filled with laughs and stolen kisses. It made you happy. He spent your 15th birthday with you, bought you a small gift, a necklace with a green stone, he said the color reminded him of you and it brought out the color in your (e/c) eyes. There was one night in particular that was forever engraved into your heart. Robin had come back to the rooftop, you sitting by the ledge waiting for him.

“(Y/n), I have to tell you something.”, he seemed frantic, like he was nervous about something. You felt your heart start beating faster, expecting the absolute worst. “W-what is it?”

“I know that we.. we’ve been..seeing each other, and I know you feel the same things that I do.”, your heart couldn’t stop pounding, you were sure he could hear it. “I want to tell you who I am, beneath the mask, beneath the Robin suit. I want us to be able to go out together. I just need to do something else first.”, Your heart seemed to stop. He wanted to tell you his identity? He wanted to be serious with you, take it further. You silently nodded, not knowing what to say at that moment.

“I’ll be gone for a few days, so don’t think I’m abandoning you. It shouldn’t be more than a week, but I promise, when I come back, we’ll get a real date. You’ll know me as… me. I promise, wait for me.”, you looked at him and nodded, your heart filling with content at his words.

He grabbed your face and kissed you and you kissed back.

The moment couldn’t be more perfect than this.

You waited like you promised. You let a week pass by before you started going back to the rooftop again. You would go every night hoping that he would be back from his trip, not exactly knowing when he would be back. The first night passed and he didn’t show up. Then the second, and still a no show.

You were convinced he got held up, maybe his trip was longer than a week and he just got confused.

The third night, then the fourth, fifth, sixth, tenth, a month. 2 months. 3 months. Nothing.

Your heart felt broken, he had promised he would come back.

Why wasn’t he coming?

Did his trip get delayed?

Did something happen?

Why wasn’t he here?

Once it got down to six months, you stopped going back to the roof. On the last day, you stood on the ledge, staring down at the city below you, your mind in shambles wondering where he was. He left. He said he'd come back but he hasn't.

Was this the consequence of trusting him?

Did he realize he didn't want to be around you anymore?

You closed your eyes, lifting a hand to grasp the necklace he'd given you, your chest heavy as you felt the tears pour down your cheeks. Was this the world's cruel way of telling you you'd never get anything good in your life?

Your heart and your trust were completely broken, all because you trusted someone who never came back.

[achaotichuman]

Forever Now

A/N: Very sorry this is late, I have fallen ill, and I could not get out of bed yesterday afternoon.

For @matrixsss 10 Day Writing Challenge

Summary: Azriel has been ordered to leave the Night Court, without anywhere else to go, he finds solace in the arms of the last person he should trust. Even if that person is his fated mate.

“I see the bats are out and about tonight.” Normally Eris’ cruel, cold words were kindle to a flame. Tonight they were a balm to a deep, twisting ache in Azriel’s chest. 

He couldn’t get a word out. He wanted to snap back with a witty retort. He wanted to see Eris’ screw up in frustration as their sparring turned to arguing. He wanted a distraction. 

Tonight though, every cutting word, every double-edged insult, every weapon he kept on the tip of his tongue for his meetings with Eris got caught in his throat. Something squeezed tightly in his ribcage. Pulling tighter and tighter until he couldn’t breathe. The golden halo sitting in his chest flared to life as it sensed his distress. Try as he might, Azriel couldn’t hide the pain sitting in a dark pit in his stomach from the mating bond, from Eris. 

If the Autumn lord cared why Azriel’s side of the bond was flaring up, sending him distressed signals, he didn’t let it show. His face remained an impassive mask of cruelty and iciness. Azriel always thought it was so odd how Eris could be so cold with the amount of fire that writhed just under his skin. 

The Autumn wind whistled past his ears. He was standing on the porch of Eris’ little secret cottage. The one place the Autumn Prince had away from the Forest House. The dark forest was to his back, and Eris was standing before him. A perfect red eyebrow raised, his arms crossed whilst he leaned against the threshold of his door. He had sensed Azriel’s sudden appearance, or had perhaps heard his sloppy landing, and came to the door before Azriel could knock. He wasn’t normally so clumsy but tonight his wings felt so weak.

The Shadowsinger honestly didn’t know what had led him here. Maybe it was the bond, maybe it was his foggy head not knowing another place to go. Did he even have another place to go other than Velaris? He had never needed one, Rhysand and Cassian always had their arms held open, ready to catch him should he fall. His High lord had always been by his side. 

“Get out! Azriel just get out!” Rhysand screamed. 

“Rhysand-” Azriel tried to argue. 

“By order of your High lord, just get out!” 

Something tightened his throat. The scars of his hands ached. He had left the River House, flown over to the House of Wind, desperate for at least one of his brother’s comfort. But when Cassian had seen him, his eyes had gone wide and he had yelled at Azriel to run, to just get out of Velaris whilst it all cooled over. 

So Azriel flew and flew and flew, winnowing at some point of the journey, mostly due to his wings getting so heavy he nearly slammed into a tree. 

Eventually he crash landed into the one place he always kept coming back to. This tiny quaint house. Beautifully made, dark but with a warmth that Azriel had never seen anywhere else. There was even a rocking chair on the porch, though Azriel had a hard time imagining Eris sitting there. Eris was a hardlined out of place creature amongst the quiet beauty of this place. 

But so was Azriel. 

“What are you doing here, Shadowsinger? Does your High lord force you to spy through the night as well? Does he whip you if you don’t get all your little jobs done?”

Azriel tried to do something, anything. Call Eris names, spit in his face, slit his throat. Anything, just do something. 

He couldn’t do anything. One of his hands slid out to grip the support beam next to him. He couldn't do anything other than stare blankly at Eris. 

Eris always kept up such a pristine mask, but after a year of their meetings, Azriel had quickly learned tell-tale signs that revealed Eris was nearing his limit. A finger tapping a beat too fast on his arm. Narrowing his eyes just a touch, his jaw clicking. His pulse point fluttering faster. 

Watching Eris slowly tick towards the edge of concern, Azriel could feel his own heart beat faster, could feel the confusion that was surely coming from his mate. Like their bodies were truly one. 

A heartbeat passed… then the next. Eris crossed the threshold and stood before Azriel. 

Azriel was half a head taller than Eris, but even so, the Prince of Autumn had this uncanny ability to always be looking down his nose at him. It never failed to cause hatred to boil over in his chest.

Except tonight it seemed to fail. Azriel felt nothing besides a deep pit of nothingness. As if there was a never-ending darkness where his heart should be. A whirlwind of shadows danced around his hands and legs, curling around his wings and humming in his ear. Their low whispers became nothing but a dull drawl as the darkness collecting inside of him pressed further into his ribs, filling each empty space with a black void. Shadow inside and out.

It took everything in Azriel to even process what he was seeing before him. Everything was blurring, turning white then black, then back again before repeating. It took him far too long to realise Eris had lifted his hand, so he jumped when he felt the Heir’s too warm fingers drag along his jaw. Turning his head to the side then back. 

“Shadowsinger.” Eris’ voice was drowned out by the whispers getting louder, forcing his attention on them, they were all incoherent, not one voice made sense, like a constant stream of gibberish. 

“Azriel.” Maybe water had flooded the world, it felt like he had been pulled down under, slowly drowning without air, the world becoming dark and slow. 

“Azriel!” 

The world flashed white, then went black. 

______________

Azriel awoke to warm water rushing down the short strands of his head, unusually long from his lack of having a haircut in the Gods knew how long. 

The world was fuzzy and blurry but he could distinctly make swirling locks of red that dragged along his wings, sending shivers of pleasure up his spine. Azriel made a small noise, breathy in the back of his throat and the source of those red strands pulled away. 

Unable to say a word, his tongue refusing to cooperate. Azriel just whined, squeezing his hands into fists. Trying to beg the blurry world with his eyes for that red hair to come back. After a moment, Azriel felt a tug in his chest, it cut through the deep aching of his bones and muscles, forcing his attention on something other than the darkness still coiling inside of him. 

‘Shadowsinger.’ Eris drawled through the mating bond, ‘what do you want?’

‘Eris…’ Even through the golden glow that stretched between them, Azriel could barely form a coherent thought to send to Eris. The Shadowsinger could only process his mate's name and a deep throbbing that echoed in his mind and chest. 

Finally those strands of red returned, dragging along Azriel’s leathery membrane, making his toes curl and his skin to turn bumpy. The smallest hairs on his arms and neck stood straight up as pleasure ran over him like tiny warm rain droplets on a hot summer night. Vaguely Azriel understood he was sitting in water that reached his chest. A small, still semi-working part of his brain figured out he must be in a bath, as there were cool tiles pressing into his back, and legs. The rest of him really didn’t care where he was, just that Eris was there, Eris was touching him, his mate was near him. That's all he cared about. 

Later he’d be ashamed. Later, when he eventually returned to the Night Court, he would scrub every inch of skin that Eris touched, trying to physically remove any presence of the male off of him. But that was later, and right now, he didn’t give a single care to what future Azriel might think. 

[atinyslittleworld]

Remember Me

liukang!san x kitana!reader

Summary: After reshaping the timeline to protect Earthrealm, San, now a god, loses his lover, Y/N, who is reborn in the Netherrealm without memories of their past. During the Mortal Kombat tournament, they reunite, with Y/N feeling an inexplicable connection. After a version of her from another timeline reveals their history, they vow to rediscover their love and build a new future together.

Genre: mortal kombat universe, fantasy, romance, drama

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none of that I know

a/n: it might be my deluluness but whenever i see mk11 liu kang is like i see san

In the vast realm of the Elder Gods, where time and space intermingled in the delicate dance of creation, San stood as a figure of great power and responsibility. Once a mere mortal under the guidance of Raiden, he had ascended to become the Fire God, his strength forged in the flames of countless battles. With the defeat of Kronika, the previous Keeper of Time, the mantle had been passed to him. It was a role that demanded both wisdom and restraint, for to wield control over time was to hold the fates of all realms in his hands. And so, San accepted the burden, knowing that the future of Earthrealm and beyond depended on his actions.

With Kronika's Hourglass, San set to work, carefully crafting a new timeline. The process was intricate, requiring precision and an understanding of the delicate balance between the realms. He reshaped destinies, altered fates, and gave new paths to those he held dear. Among them was Y/N, the woman who had captured his heart in a previous life. In that timeline, their love had been strong, a bond that had defied the odds of war and strife. But in the new reality San forged, Y/N’s fate was far removed from the life they had once shared.

In this new timeline, Y/N was born into the dark and treacherous Netherrealm, a realm known for its cruelty and corruption. She was no longer a simple woman of Earthrealm; instead, she was reborn as a princess, the youngest daughter of Queen Sindel, the formidable ruler of the Netherrealm. Alongside her older sister, Mileena, Y/N was raised in a world where power was everything, and emotions were a sign of weakness. The two sisters were groomed to be warriors, ruthless and unyielding, capable of ruling with an iron fist. Yet, despite her cold exterior, Y/N often felt a strange emptiness inside her, an inexplicable void that nothing in the Netherrealm could fill.

As San completed his task of reshaping the timeline, he was faced with a difficult choice. The power of the Hourglass was immense, but it was also corrupting. He had seen what it had done to Kronika, how the constant manipulation of time had twisted her mind until she could no longer distinguish right from wrong. Fearing that the same fate might befall him, San made the hardest decision of his life—he relinquished his power as the Keeper of Time. He chose instead to return to a simpler existence, becoming once again a mere god, one whose sole purpose was to protect Earthrealm by training its champions for the inevitable Mortal Kombat tournaments. Though he had given up the burden of time, the knowledge that Y/N no longer remembered him or the love they had shared weighed heavily on his heart.

When the time for the Mortal Kombat tournament arrived, San led Earthrealm’s finest warriors—Raiden, Kung Lao, Kenshi, and Johnny Cage—into the depths of the Netherrealm. The journey was perilous, for the Netherrealm was a place of eternal darkness, where the souls of the damned wandered restlessly and danger lurked in every shadow. As they entered the grand, shadowy palace of Queen Sindel, San’s heart raced when he caught sight of Y/N. Seated regally on an obsidian throne beside her mother and sister, she was a vision of dark beauty and power. Her gaze was cold, her eyes devoid of any recognition as they swept over the Earthrealmers with disdain.

San’s heart ached at the sight. Here was the woman he had loved, the one he had given up everything for, yet she looked at him as if he were a stranger. He had anticipated this moment, had known that in this timeline, Y/N would have no memory of their past together, but the reality of it was more painful than he could have imagined. Still, he held his emotions in check, knowing that he could not afford to let his personal feelings interfere with the mission. The balance of the realms depended on it.

As the days passed, San maintained his stoic exterior, focusing on his duties and guiding the Earthrealm warriors as they prepared for the tournament. Yet, every time he saw Y/N, his resolve weakened. He longed to reach out to her, to tell her the truth about their past, but he knew that doing so could unravel the delicate timeline he had crafted. The risk was too great, and so he remained silent, even as his heart yearned for the connection they had once shared.

One night, as San wandered the palace’s shadowy corridors in search of solace, he felt a presence approaching. It was Y/N. She moved with the grace and silence of a shadow, her dark robes flowing around her like tendrils of night itself. She stopped a few steps away, her gaze intense and filled with a strange, unspoken longing.

“Ever since you arrived,” she began, her voice soft but tinged with uncertainty, “I’ve felt something… strange. A pull towards you, an attraction I can’t explain. It’s as if my heart knows something my mind doesn’t.”

San’s heart clenched at her words. The bond they had shared in another life was still there, lingering beneath the surface, but he remained silent. He couldn’t bring himself to disrupt the timeline, not when so much was at stake. But as the days wore on, the situation grew more dire. Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, and Kenshi returned from a mission, battered and bruised. Kenshi had been blinded once again in this timeline, a cruel twist of fate that San had hoped to prevent.

Overcome with guilt and sorrow, San knew he could no longer keep the truth from Y/N. He sought her out, finding her alone in the palace gardens under the cover of night. The air was thick with the scent of night-blooming flowers, the only sign of life in the otherwise bleak realm. He approached her slowly, the weight of his burden clear in his eyes, and began to speak.

He told her everything—about their past lives, their love that had transcended time, and the sacrifices he had made to protect Earthrealm. He explained how he had created this new timeline, one where their paths had been cruelly separated for the greater good. Y/N listened in stunned silence, her eyes wide with disbelief and something deeper—recognition, perhaps. As San spoke, fragments of memories began to stir within her, memories of a life she had never known yet felt deeply connected to.

When San finished speaking, Y/N stepped closer, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch his face, her fingers brushing against his cheek as if to confirm he was real. “I remember… fragments,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “But I feel it in my soul. We were in love, weren’t we?”

San nodded, his eyes filled with sorrow and longing. “Yes, and we still are. But the price of protecting this realm was our separation.”

In that moment, as they shared a kiss filled with the bittersweet essence of love lost and found, a brilliant flash of light illuminated the garden. San pulled away, his eyes widening as he saw another figure materialize before them—another Y/N, one he recognized instantly. She was from the side timeline, the one he had erased to create the current reality. She stood there, a perfect reflection of the Y/N from this timeline, but with eyes full of recognition, love, and a deep, unspoken sadness.

The Y/N from the new timeline gasped, stepping back in shock. “Who… who is she?” she stammered, her voice trembling with disbelief.

San, torn between the love of two worlds, looked between the two women, his heart breaking. “She is you… from another timeline. A timeline where we were together.”

The two Y/Ns stared at each other, one filled with confusion, the other with a love so profound it had driven her to cross the boundaries of time itself. The Y/N from the side timeline stepped forward, her hand outstretched as she looked at San with a gaze filled with longing and acceptance.

“I’ve been searching for you… through every possible world, every possible time. I knew we would find each other again,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

San stood frozen, caught between the past he could never reclaim and the present he had vowed to protect. The Y/N from the new timeline, still reeling from the revelation, felt a surge of jealousy and fear, emotions she had never experienced so intensely before.

“San…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “What happens now?”

San, his heart heavy with the weight of his choices, looked at both versions of Y/N. He knew that no matter what decision he made, someone would be hurt. But he also knew that love, in any timeline, was worth fighting for.

“You both are a part of me,” San finally said, his voice filled with emotion. “But this timeline… it is where I must remain. The balance of the realms depends on it. Yet, I cannot ignore the love that spans across time.”

He turned to the Y/N from the side timeline, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I will always cherish our love, but this is not our time. You must return to where you belong, to find peace in the world we shared.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she nodded, understanding the burden San carried. “I will love you across all time, San. Remember that.”

With a heavy heart, San watched as she began to fade away, her form dissolving into the ether, leaving behind only the memory of a love that had defied the boundaries of time itself.

The Y/N of the new timeline stood in stunned silence, her heart racing with a mixture of emotions—confusion, fear, and a growing sense of determination. She had just witnessed a version of herself so deeply in love that she had traversed the vastness of time and space, risking everything, just to find San again.

When the silence became too much to bear, Y/N took a deep breath and stepped closer to San. Her eyes, once filled with uncertainty, now burned with resolve.

“San,” she began, her voice steady but tinged with emotion, “I may not remember everything about us, but I saw how desperate she was, how much she loved you. She searched through all the timelines just to find you, just to tell you she loved you. And then… she left, because she knew deep down that she couldn’t stay if she didn’t belong here. She understood that staying would disrupt the balance of all the realms and all the timelines.”

San looked at her, a soft smile touching his lips. He could see the resolve in her eyes, the same strength and wisdom that had drawn him to her across so many lifetimes.

“I want to learn everything about us,” Y/N continued, her voice growing firmer. “I want to know the love we shared, the battles we fought, and the sacrifices we made. I need to understand why she was willing to give everything up, just for a chance to tell you she loved you. Because if she felt that strongly, then there’s something here… something worth fighting for in this timeline too.”

San felt a warmth spread through him, a sense of hope that had been absent since he first saw her on the throne. He took her hands in his, holding them gently as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

“We will discover it together,” San promised, his voice full of sincerity. “Our love has survived across timelines, and now, in this one, we have the chance to build something new. We’ll learn, we’ll grow, and we’ll forge a path that honors the love that transcended time.”

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling with a sense of purpose she hadn’t felt before. “I’m ready, San. Ready to walk this path with you, wherever it leads.”

In this timeline, they would not just survive—they would thrive.