#i felt bad changing it. he was so proud to have chosen it

[inkskinned]

hello! are there any updates on the book, date, where to buy etc ? can't wait, I love your work ! ♥️

it's yours in september :)

click thru below to see what i look like w/long hair. it's short now, but my heart is bigger.

so many things to talk about this. when there's a link to purchase, i'll talk more but - all i can say now is that i am so grateful for each of you. for every single note and comment and thought. i can't wait to share this part of my life.

this is easily the best thing i've ever written. bar none. i want to give it to you so, so badly.

my life has been more bright for having you each in it. i am keeping you like stars in my heart.

[biolumien]

... carried flower petals

pt 2 to this

notes: I AM. such a bad writer. help. going through double the stages of grief on this one. who even cares. who even gaf! i don't. im winning in the dgaf wars. (lying)

samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader NSFW! w/ m/f sex. no i did not proofread this. this isn't a flex i actively just squinted trying not to look too hard at my own writing. this is also hoshina pov word count: 2415

hoshina supposes that he couldn’t blame you for your reaction. there was no way you would have been happy about marrying him, a complete and utter stranger–no matter how many times you might have met prior. and in the three times you’d met, he’d tried to keep his distance. there was an aura of deep discontent about you, and he didn’t want to disturb you, for fear that your anger would turn darker.

at least, until you pulled a dagger on him.

the dagger that he’d gifted you, no less. 

or, well–he hadn’t gifted it to you directly. he had selected the gift, but it had come alongside the marriage offer–and so hoshina wondered if you’d conflated the dagger as something utterly negative. when he’d picked out the dagger, he’d vowed it to keep you safe from harm. a selfish well-wishing on his part, sure–as a samurai, he was bound to make enemies that could hurt you.

he raises a hand to his neck, touching where you might have slashed him.

would he have let you? 

he brings himself to his feet as the sliding door to his room opens. you stand in the doorway, dressed in a simple nightgown–a far cry from the garments you wore during the ceremony. 

his mind flits back to them, for a moment–you’d chosen to wear pure white, contrasting him in his black haori and hakama. your expression had been severe, distant even then. you’d followed your new attendants into the quarters of your new housing within the hoshina clan’s home to change out of your wedding attire, and you hadn’t met his glance once.

you bow your head.

“your attendants tell me you’re quite the talent in bed,” you say, your voice crisp. your eyes meet his, your gaze unreadable. his eyes flick to your hands, folded neatly in front of you–and yet your fingers are fidgeting ever so slightly, a possible indication of just how nervous you were. 

hoshina can’t help but laugh.

“is that what they say? my mother can’t help but find people that run their mouths…” hoshina runs a hand through his hair. “sit. i can’t have my wife–” the word still felt foreign to him–wife, he was really a husband, was that even a moniker that fit him?–but he swallows his misgivings, pats one of the cushions next to the futon. “–standing for so long. it would be unfitting.”

“so are you?” you gather your kimono, sitting down. 

hoshina hums.

“if i tell you, would you see me differently?” hoshina asks.

“well. you’re my husband,” you say. the corners of your lips twitch when you say the word husband, your brow furrowing a little bit as you say it. a clear show of your definite displeasure. “i have to… accept it, after all. as your wife. hell, your attendants tell me that you were in the process of courting concu–”

“ahh,” hoshina leans his head back. “so is that what that’s all about?” he sighs, a strange, tightening pressure forming somewhere in his throat. the marriage acceptance hadn’t been on his end. it’d been his father’s, much to his mother’s chagrin. you were from a no-name clan, having long lost your family’s relevance. his mother had complained about your family’s name dragging down the hoshina family’s name.

but as hoshina reminisced–he couldn’t give a damn about his family name.

his brother–his proud, arrogant, stubborn, awful brother–had made his opinion on their family name very clear, by just leaving.

hoshina did resent him for it, just a little. it just meant that he couldn’t run away, now. 

“no. the concubine rumor’s bullshit,” hoshina says. “quite honestly, i couldn’t be bothered. i’m not in the interest of producing my family an heir.”

“huh?” you ask, sounding confused. “but–” “i mean. the sex is fine,” hoshina says candidly, placidly. “and if the family gets an heir, we get an heir. but it’s never been my concern. i think you ought not to worry about it, either. our families need each other. it’ll be reason enough for you to stay.” 

you stare at him, perplexed for the moment, before your brow also furrows. 

“so, you… don’t, want—”

“mm. you pulled a knife on me last time we talked,” hoshina teases as he begins to undo his ponytail. “i thought that made your opinion on me fairly clear. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable if you don’t want it. my folks won’t be happy, but there’s nothing like lying that can’t fix that.” he runs a hand through his hair. “so it’s your call.”

you watch him. 

“it’s fine,” you say. you lean in closer to him, and he simply watches you—watches you like he did on the first day the two of you met, watches you like he did when you raised the dagger to his throat. always watching, waiting for you to make the first move. 

“i’d rather just get it over with,” you say. “the first time.” 

“mm. as you command, then,” hoshina says. 

when he leans in to kiss you, he does it slowly. you taste faintly of the sake you drank during the marriage ceremony, though the alcohol has long worn off. 

he wishes he could take you apart more cleanly. to take you apart with intention. he can draw the lines from the veins in your wrist to the beating, fluttering of your heart in your breast. you kiss him with your eyes open, as if you’re watching for his every movement. he supposes that he’s watching you, too, trying to see what you’ll do. what you like. 

“are you just going to kiss me?” you murmur, something like spite in your voice. “or are you actually going to show me something interesting?” 

“interesting?” he pulls back from the kiss, raising an eyebrow. 

“i’ve read all the woodcuts,” you say. “as apparently was my duty as your wife. i was just wondering if there was anything more interesting than that.” 

“mm. you can’t possibly learn what it feels like through reading alone,” hoshina says. “experience is the best teacher.”

“big talk,” you retort. hoshina almost hates the way his heart flutters at your words, entranced by you. one hand reaches out to touch your face, the other hand gently reaching down to undo your obi as he pulls you closer to him, letting you straddle his lap. 

“i’m afraid most of my lovers say i’m a talkative one,” hoshina purrs. “but i hope you’ll find me satisfactory.” when he leans in to kiss you again, your sash falls gently onto the ground, and the inner layers of your kimono come undone.  

he’s had no small share of lovers—or, well, general brothel experience, he supposes. he’s a man in the end—a samurai from a family of renown, for whom many lovers might have found him appealing simply for how much money he was willing to pay for good service. but he knows what he’s doing, in any case.

he revels in it, though—at how responsive and jittery you seem to be. the faintest touch of his hand against your skin is enough to make you jolt out of your skin, and you whimper ever so slightly as his fingers pull at a nipple, and he feels your pulse jump in your throat as his teeth graze at your neck. he feels you shift against him, attempt to press your thighs together and he laughs. 

he’s surprised there, too—the way you shudder when he laughs, as he’s pressed against you. 

when his fingers seek between your legs, he’s thrilled, but still surprised to find the telltale sign of slick. 

“mm. this wet already, really?” hoshina teases. his hand brushes against your inner thigh, coaxing you to spread your legs a little more, and he feels your leg twitch against the shift of his knuckles. “you’re desperate.” 

“as if.” your breath sounds shuddery, and hoshina laughs, not meanly. he wonders how he could take you apart—could he use just his mouth? his fingers? the mere suggestion of touching you, just using words alone? he wanted to know, desperately so. desperately in the same way he wanted to know your heart, if only you’d let him. but in the meantime, he smiles—and it’s more of a smirk. 

he takes his fingers to his mouth, sucking the wetness from his fingers, and he revels in the way you flush, a half-scandalized and half-flustered sound escaping your mouth. 

“it’s alright,” hoshina says, teasing. 

“i don’t—need you to tell me it’s alright,” you say, flustered. “i just—”

“less talking from you,” hoshina says, fondly. gently. he’s entranced by you, the swell of your breast and the way your skin flushes red from your neck to your collarbones. he wishes he could sink his teeth into your pulse—or would you give him your beating heart, let him devour the tender organ? “you’re doing wonderfully. do you feel up for more?” 

you pause, biting your lip. he marvels at the way your fingers twitch against his in anticipation, and your brow furrows. 

“let—i want to be on top,” you say, and hoshina simply smiles. 

“alright,” he acquiesces. “i’m all yours.”

that much was true. he was learning far too quickly that he was very much a man that would follow you anywhere, that he was at your beck and call. 

you help him undress with shaking hands, pulling his belt away and pushing the kimono from his shoulders. your hands stop for a moment as you survey his chest—hoshina watches your face, propped back and leaning back on his hands. your fingers press against a deep scar against his chest, and your eyes meet his. 

“long story,” hoshina says softly. “not the kind i’d tell my wife on our first night together, anyhow.” 

your hand gently touches his cock and he hisses, practically, wincing at how it feels like too much and not much at all. it takes most of his discipline to not rut up into the touch, to let himself be taken by that pleasure. you gently push him back, letting him lie back against the futon. 

as you lower yourself slowly onto his cock, hoshina watches as your fingers flex against his chest, your eyes squeeze and your toes desperately curl. he shifts his hips a little bit, and you whimper. 

“don’t tease,” you keen. 

“m’not.”

hoshina thinks it’s quite the opposite, really. he’s a patient man, but not this patient. you’re about halfway down his cock at this point, slowly taking him in bit by bit—and then his patience just snaps somehow when he hears you whine again. not in a bad way—just in a he’ll fucking die like this, he’s sure kind of way. 

you gasp immediately as he thrusts up, causing you to bottom out. your hips meet his, and you lean your head back, a loud and desperate moan leaving your lips. 

“y-you awful man,” you moan out, something like a pout in your tone. “i wanted to take my time—”

“mm—hm. sorry,” hoshina teases, not quite apologetic at all. his voice strains a bit—you feel almost like a fire, your cunt desperately squeezing against his cock. “just don’t think i’ll last long with you squeezing me like this. does it feel that good?”

your face flushes, your hair plastered to your forehead. 

“shut up.”

“i’ll take that as a yes, then,” hoshina says, unrepentant in the way he thrusts up into you, reveling in the way you respond to each movement with tiny little whimpers that stretch into longer and longer cries. you don’t say his name, but he finds himself uncaring for the moment. does he wish you’d say his name? does he wish, however selfishly, that this moment might burn itself into your memory?

surely he doesn’t. it would be unbecoming of him to ask that much. 

your hand leans out, digging into his skin, and he lets out a soft, raspy breath, taking your hand into his. 

“‘m close,” you whimper out through shaking breaths, and hoshina’s heart squeezes again, at the way your hips cant against his, as if each touch almost hurts, but you can’t help but continue to press your hips against his, trying to find more traction. hoshina smirks, his free hand reaching out to thumb at your clit, flicking upwards, and tries to see if he can memorize the way you seize up against him, the way you squeeze down on his cock–tries to see if he can memorize every twitch.

he hopes he can.

you cum soon after, and your hand digs into his so hard that he wonders if you might be able to break his fingers one day–and hopes that you can. he holds you tightly against him, letting you ride out the waves of your orgasm as you whimper tiny uh, uh, uhs–until you wince.

“hurts, i–please,” you say, and hoshina takes pity on you for the moment, pulls out, and strokes soothingly at your face. your chest heaves, and hoshina thinks he could get lost in your every motion. as hoshina shifts to move away–he’d rather prioritize your comfort over his in the end, so despite the fact that he was hard to the point it almost hurt, he figured he’d just deal with it on his own—you shift up.

“but you–you didn’t,” you say after a moment, grabbing his wrist. 

“hm?” hoshina hums. “mm. don’t worry about me, dear. i’m more than capable of–fuck, you–” his voice halts right as your hand wraps around his cock, your thumb grazing over the head of it ever so gently. “fuck. you-you don’t have to–”

“please,” you say, something like disdain–or spite? or something, he really couldn’t tell–in your voice. “i can do this much.”

he cums embarrassingly fast–the mixture of being so strung out at this point, so strangely affected, enamored by you–and he can’t help but laugh. he wants to press his face into your collarbone, but he can’t bring himself to cross the distance. he hums, instead, simply exhaling through his teeth for a moment.

“get some rest,” hoshina says. he watches as your face shifts ever so slightly–and he wishes he knew you better, if only so he could understand what you were thinking.

“alright,” you say.

hoshina fears he’s in love.

but the part of him that knows better says he shouldn’t be. he watches silvery moonlight paint the planes of your back, and you turn away from him, lost in sleep. 

he sighs.

[wosoamazing]

Birth

Baby x3 | Baby, Baby... Baby?

Summary: The triplets are born.

Warnings: Surgery, Hospitals

“You’re okay, bebé, just focus on me,” Alexia told you, causing your roaming eyes to focus on her, and she smiled at you from where she sat, just next to your head on a stool, you smiled back slightly, clearly nervous, you didn’t like surgery, it scared you, and truth be told neither did Alexia but she had to stay strong for you, “I love you, you’re doing amazing bebé, just try and relax for me,” you nodded before closing your eyes, willing yourself to be anywhere else. 

Alexia didn’t know if you would actually be able to last the whole time needed for the procedure, especially when a tear rolled down the side of your face, followed by a few more. She quickly wiped them away before squeezing your hand, and kissing your forehead, she couldn’t help but feel this was her fault, you opted out of having general anaesthesia for many reasons, but one of which was that Alexia couldn’t be there if you had chosen it, and it was only fair that she got to witness this too. 

Alexia watched as your midwife asked the doctor something quietly, to which he nodded before she went to the anesthesiologist and asked him too, and he nodded before starting to set up something else, whilst your midwife approached Alexia.

-

“Bebé, would you like to try some nitrous oxide? See if it helps? It’s okay if not but we just thought to offer. Maybe see if it will help you relax slightly?” Alexia asked you softly and you gave a hesitant nod.

Alexia was handed the mouthpiece from the anesthesiologist, and she then turned all her focus back on you “bebé, I’m just going to separate our hands for a moment, okay?” she did so and soon your hand was placed over hers. She gently brought the mouthpiece to your mouth and you took a few breaths before pulling it back, and after a few more breaths you felt yourself relax slightly more, enough so that you felt comfortable enough to open your eyes and look at her, giving her a small smile.

——————

“Okay, everyone ready, first baby will be out soon,” you looked at Alexia and she smiled and nodded, you both weren’t going to really get a view of the babies before they had to be taken away, being born at 33 weeks there was a large unknown as to how much support they would need and what complications would arise meaning each baby having a NICU team ready for them in the OR.

After what felt like forever the surgery was finally over and you were wheeled back to a private recovery room. Where Alexia sat by your side once again, watching you as you fought back sleep.

“Bebé, if you’re tired sleep, I’ll wake you up if the doctors come in, and I promise I won’t leave you, I love you so much, and I am incredibly proud of you,” you nodded your head at her, mumbling an “I love you too,” before falling asleep.

Your midwife walks in just minutes later and Alexia goes to wake you, “No need to wake her, I’m just checking her blood pressure and other vitals,” she says and Alexia nods, “Also the babies are good, they obviously still have to do all the tests and things could change especially within the next hour or so but so far everything is looking good,” Alexia nods once again, worried she might cry if she opened her mouth.

“Is it alright if I let a visitor in?” your perinatologist asks as he walks in, and Alexia nods hesitantly, “as we spoke about in your plan I’ve already explained everything that happened to her,” he continued as Eli walked in and over to her daughter.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said before he left, your midwife following him.

“You’re a Mami now,” Eli said softly, hyper aware that you were sleeping just beside her.

“Sí, I just hope it was the right decision,” 

“What do you mean?”

“She was so scared Mami, they gave her nitrous oxide to help her calm down and it did help slightly but not that much, it’s why she is sleeping now, she was on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, she’s exhausted, and I feel bad, it’s because of me, she stayed awake because of me,”

“From what I heard you were very very good to her though, and you both had many conversations about it, she’d even spoken to me about what to do and ultimately I think she wanted you there with her more than she didn’t want to be awake,” Alexia just nodded and hummed, before getting out of her chair.

“Sit,” she practically ordered her mother, before she moved to stand beside your bed, softly brushing some strands of hair out of your face, causing you to stir slightly.

“Ale,” you said groggily.

“Sorry bebé, you don’t need to be awake, are you feeling okay though?”

“Mm-hmm, lie with me?” you said, you were already positioned over to one side of the bed, and so Alexia carefully slipped into the bed beside you, before you placed your head on her shoulder, promptly falling back asleep.

“She is definitely not mad at you,” Eli laughed slightly, earning her a harsh glare from her eldest.

“They’re perfect,” you whispered as you held two of the babies against your chest, a blanket covering you and them, Alexia sat beside you, holding the other against her chest.

“You did an amazing job Bebé, thank you,” she replied, as soft tears fell down her cheeks

“I can’t believe we’re mami’s now,” you told her, and looked at her. 

“I love you bebé,” Alexia said before placing a soft kiss on your lips.

Mapi was sitting on the bus, with her headphones in as the team travelled up to Bunyol for their game against Levante when she received a message from you and Alexia with a photo. You both looked to be shirtless as you sat side by side on the small hospital bed, two small babies laid on your chest covered by a blanket, and beside you one baby laid on Alexia’s chest, also covered by a blanket. You and Alexia both looked absolutely exhausted, and at the bottom of the picture Mapi could see several wires coming out from under the blankets that were clearly connected to the babies. Yet you were still both beaming. 

Your god daughters are here. Meet Estella María Putellas, Mila María Putellas, and Livia María Putellas born 21 March 2020 at 11:00am.

As Mapi felt tears begin to fall from her eyes a collective gasp was heard from the rest of the team. Alexia had sent the exact same photo to the team group chat just minutes after the message to Mapi was sent.

[hispg]

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc: 2.8k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, manipulative behavior from Leon, male chauvinism, misogyny (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

Chapter 7: Unforgettable

The sun was only just coming up, but you had already been awake for a long time. You weren't even allowed to sleep properly that day, after all, the bride had to get up early to prepare for the big occasion. The wedding.

You were surrounded by the queen's ladies, several seamstresses and other maids, some of whom you had never seen set foot in this castle.

In this preparation, no part of you was forgotten, you were adorned from head to toe, from the veil that covered your head to the delicate satin shoes that embellished your feet. Not even if you looked for a strand of hair out of place would you find one. You were dressed like a queen, a beauty so stunning that it could make anyone fall at your feet.

Everyone but the one you wanted.

When your eyes caught sight of yourself in the mirror, you could see every detail of your dress with the utmost clarity. The delicate silk, the lace seams that made sophisticated patterns, just by looking at it you could tell it was too expensive.

The jewelry that Leon had given you a few days ago was now all on you, from necklaces to earrings, or the crown that was on your head, which he had also chosen for you.

You were the bride, but you felt like a stranger in your own wedding, as if it wasn't yours, the intruder was you, the bride herself.

"You look beautiful, Your Highness." One of the maids said, looking at you with admiration.

You then smiled, a forced but beautiful smile, and thanked her with a nod of your head. You made a few more adjustments to your dress yourself. Until then, without realizing the queen's presence at the door, the lady looked at you from top to bottom.

"You look perfect, dear." She said in a velvety voice, approaching you.

Since the last 'disagreement' with the queen, she had been a little distant from you, but apparently everything had passed and she was acting as if nothing had happened. Maybe she just wants to make up.

"You're the perfect suitor for my son, that's why I chose you." She says, as if proud of the fact.

"Thank you, Your Grace." You say in a soft voice, keeping your smile.

She paused, coming up behind you and putting her hands on your shoulders.

Of course you knew your obligation as a woman, but hearing her say that she chose you as if you were just a pretty product on the shelf, didn't seem right.

"I imagine it wasn't easy." You say, trying to get into the same frame of mind as her.

She then nodded, gently adjusting a few details of your veil.

"It's hard to find someone who's worthy of being a prince's wife, it's not easy, being a good wife is a hard chore." She says, letting her fingers trace your necklace.

You gave her a sidelong glance, gathering all your respect, holding your tongue so as not to say something you might regret.

"I'm sure I'll be adequate." You replied politely.

"I'm sure of it, I can already imagine that you'll be able to liven up this castle. Especially when you start giving me heirs." That word sent shivers down your spine, not in a good way.

You always thought that having children would come from an act of passionate love, from those tenuous moments that formed between a couple. But it didn't take long for you to realize that it was just an obligation, and that sooner or later you would be forced to fulfill it.

"Are you already thinking of heirs, Majesty?" You murmured, thinking out loud and not realizing that you had said it out loud.

In a quiet response, she let her hands rest on your abdomen, as if she were seeing the prospect of a child in there.

"That's one of your main purposes, dear. To give my son heirs." You tried your best not to feel disgusted by the tone used, but the idea that you were just an object, destined to fulfill a role at court, was disturbing.

"I also depend on your son's will." You say, gently and firmly removing her hands from your body.

You knew what she was getting at with this manipulation.

"My son will not disappoint." She retorts, watching you support yourself on your heels and head for the exit of your room.

"No of course he won't, he already has." You say without thinking, sharp, harsh words slipping out of your mouth.

You only saw the queen change her expression, which at this point was no longer friendly, but had turned into a gray, angry expression. As if sent from heaven, Chris was charged with taking you to the carriage, and to your surprise he was already waiting for you at the door.

"Your Highness." He said with the same cutting smile as always, expecting you to accompany him.

And you did so without much thought, walking alongside him, trying to disguise the nervous look on your face

"Leon is already waiting for you at the cathedral." He says politely, helping you down the stairs.

"Oh, then we should hurry." You say, lifting up your dress so you can walk more quickly.

"We'll be there in time, don't worry." He assures you, holding your hand as you descend.

Once you had reached the main hall, you heard buzzing here and there, but you couldn't quite make it out. Until you focused your attention on a subject that was of great interest to you.

"I hear that Princess Ashley is very ill! She won't even be able to attend the wedding!" One of the maids commented to Ausdret, who was listening attentively.

"Get back to your duties, there's a lot to do!" Ausdret retorted, giving no room for any gossip to continue.

Ashley sick, a severe cold? Or some more serious illness? In fact, she'd have to be very ill not to attend such an event, or perhaps it's an excuse?

Chris certainly sensed your uncertainty, and promptly muttered, "It'll be fine. You look gorgeous, and so will the wedding."

You felt a small sense of relief, but it was enough to make you put your head together and think about the day ahead.

"Yes, it'll be fine." You murmured back to Chris, sounding more like something to you than to him.

In a cozy silence, he took you to the carriage waiting outside, where they were already waiting for you.

"Good luck, Your Highness." Chris whispers just for you to hear, giving you a gentle smile.

You nod, trying to force your best smile. Despite the storm in your heart, you needed to keep everything in order. Once you got into the luxurious carriage, you knew there was no turning back. And you had chosen that, now all you had to do was wait for the road to end and you would be at the altar, sealing an illusory commitment.

Once you got out of the carriage, you heard the trumpets sounding to announce your arrival, and that's when you began to walk calmly, always keeping your smile and elegance, your head held high as you were the target of the party's prying eyes. Your father was already waiting for you at the entrance to the cathedral, ready to take you down the aisle.

On the way to the altar, you didn't know if it was harder to walk in a dress that size or if the weight of your heart was more significant than that. When the trumpets stopped, all you could hear was the faint applause, the low murmurs here and there, which were so low that you couldn't identify what they were about.

The cathedral was packed, so many people there and you didn't even know half of them, but if they were there, they were certainly important people.

In the distance you could see your family, who smiled proudly at you, your mother with her eyes watering almost to the point of tears, and of course for her everything was perfect, and even if it wasn't, your family and his would act as if everything was a beautiful fairy tale.

Your walk down the aisle was soon marked by the orchestra, playing the standard wedding tune, the sounds echoing through the room as you this time took your focus off your family, and managed to spot your groom, waiting impatiently for you at the altar.

Hate him all you want, but he was breathtaking. Leon found himself wearing a black suit, his eupalette shining when the sun reflected off them, his hair slicked back in a style you hadn't seen him wear before. When you saw him return your gaze, you felt butterflies blooming in your stomach, your breath catching in your throat, causing you to hold the flowers in your hands tighter. He looked so beautiful, you could gasp just looking at him.

Step by step you finally reached the altar, making a small courtesy, and your father gave you a small blessing, and you promptly positioned yourself next to the prince. You were so close, so far apart, almost tying the knot, but still far from finding each other.

Once silence prevailed, the priest cleared his throat and looked at everyone, but specifically at the two of you.

"I appreciate everyone's presence for the celebration of this union. I request that you all take your places so that we can begin the ceremony." The priest said, looking at everyone seriously, but with a certain joy in his eyes.

"We are here today to initiate the union between two kingdoms, between two young lovers." The older man says, his attention focused on the pieces of paper on the lectern.

Who in the whole kingdom wouldn't be happy about such a union?

Everyone sits down and stares at the two of you, the youngest couple about to be married.

"We are here to witness, before God and the whole kingdom, the conjuncture and union between two royals, a prince and a princess, who will soon be our next majesties." Once again the priest spoke, this was his moment to speak, and he would make the importance of this union even clearer.

And then he looks up at the two of you, speaking seriously once again, " Matrimony is a sacred union, not to be broken by anything. The only plausible explanation for breaking that holy and sacred union, is death."

These words sent a chill down your spine, and you couldn't help but swallow when you found yourself facing this situation. Only death could separate the two of you.

What could be a love story for any couple in love, for you, God forgive you, seemed to be more of a curse than anything else.

With a glance from the priest, you saw a girl approaching, carrying the rings on a small cushion. They were made of pure metal, shining so brightly that they were striking even from a distance. Yours had his name engraved on it, along with a diamond at the top.

Leon's ring, on the other hand, also had your name on it, but no stones or other adornments. This was the time to exchange vows, the moment when the two of you would make promises and promises of love.

Another girl came and gently took the bouquet of flowers from your hand, so that you could turn around and face Leon, and the two of you were staring at each other. And you didn't see a hint of love in Leon's eyes, maybe you found some emotion, and it was probably discontent.

Leon then took your hands in his, his warm, larger hands wrapped around yours, and you felt a sudden shiver at the small act.

"Do you promise, Leon Scott Kennedy, to take," he then spoke your name, "as your lawfully wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor her and guard her, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as long as you both shall live?"

The silence was deafening, everything was quiet except for the sound of your heart beating in your ears, and at the slightest gesture, you squeezed his hand even harder.

At the same moment, you saw him press his lips together tightly, his emotions screaming inside him, the pain between having to seal an incorrigible path, put everything he once wanted to the test, override the desire to follow his heart.

With a certain apprehension, he picked up the ring, removed your gloves, and then slid the ring onto your ring finger.

"Yes… I promise." He says, without any conviction, for the first time you saw his gaze empty, but at the same time you could see the melancholy present there.

"Do you promise," the priest began, clearly speaking your full name before continuing, "to take Leon Scott Kennedy as your lawful wedded husband, to love him, comfort him, honor him and guard him, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as long as you both shall live?"

His hesitation to answer was an answer as clear as a thousand words.

But now his oath had been made, all that was left was for you.

With your mind working a thousand miles a minute, all you did was look deep into Leon's eyes, as if you were searching for something there, perhaps something to calm your nerves. But he was looking for the same thing in you, so you were both looking for solace, when you wouldn't have any.

When you saw the people looking at you with a certain astonishment, seeing that you were slow to respond, you also reached for the wedding ring that sealed the marriage, taking Leon's hand in yours as you placed the jewel on his finger.

"Yes, I promise." You said in a whisper, just giving the priest and Leon a chance to hear.

You could already hear some murmurs forming in the cathedral, but you couldn't make out what they were about. A request for silence from the priest was enough to stop all sound, and silence took over once again.

A sound of the priest cleaning his throat, was enough for you to come back to reality and stop staring at Leon, paying attention to what the priest had to say.

"In the sight of God and of people, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May this unification be full of fruits and joys, may it bring to our country what we need. And may you both be happy and blessed by God." For the first time you see the priest give the two of you a slight smile and then mutter:

"You must seal the union with a kiss." The phrase gave you butterflies in your stomach, and it didn't take more than a few seconds for Leon to bring his face close to yours.

At that moment, all you could feel was the blush rising to your cheeks, and everything around it disappeared once he locked his lips onto yours, gently placing a hand on your cheek to hold you in place.

You closed your eyes and let yourself be carried away by the sensation, your lips on his as you moved in sync, in a gentle and sweet way.

If everything was as sweet as this moment was being, then you would feel complete. But life is not a bed of roses.

Once you parted, you leaned your foreheads together, and listened to the various cheers and whistles you saw from everyone watching.

"I promise you'll be happy." Leon whispered to you, and you didn't know if it was worse that he was lying in front of God, or that you believed it so easily.

"I hope so." You reply with a weak smile, looking at him deeply.

When the two of you turned your faces away a little, you were faced with a crowd of emotional people looking at you. Some smiled, some cried, but everyone seemed to be happy for the two of you.

You knew it was far from over, you still had the reception, the ball, and the tedious conversations that would go on for endless minutes.

But since all these real commitments would be over before nightfall, you would soon be going on honeymoon with Leon.

A thought that would almost certainly be a dream for couples in love. But you didn't know whether to be apprehensive or disappointed, perhaps even intrigued. You'd be lying if you said that the idea of sleeping with him didn't make your knees weak.

In any case, when the two of you went on your honeymoon, you would indeed play your part as his wife. Something about that was strangely excoriating.

And when that happened, you were his, officially his.

You were his.

Oh, you were his.

Taglist: @gollumsmygel, @quemmysworld, @loveoverdosing, @delulusimps, @d3jecteddoll, @kennedyleyy, @acriixys, @deredvv, @luminehallowss

[skeletinmoss]

The curse of the dark Phoenix

Chapter 15: The tyrant’s chosen

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Being a horse and letting another person ride on his back probably wouldn’t be something Roman would’ve ever considered something he’d be proud off. But he was.

His first transformation had been flawless. He’d adopted all the qualities of his target creature successfully. Virgil didn’t feel heavy to him and he kept up a steady pace the whole way through. Even squeezing out a sprint for the last few miles. Winning an unofficial race against Patton.

Not that he’d brag.

Virgil halted him a bit before they reached the end of the forest, before the lake was in full view.

“Best that we draw as little attention towards ourselves as possible once out in the open,” he suggested as he vanished the saddles.

“Alright. Time to turn back. Remember. If something doesn’t go quite right, you can just try again and fix it,” he promised.

Roman took a deep breath. He could do it. Just like with turning into a horse, but now focusing on becoming human…

He breathed in and out. Feeling his body changing. Come on, hurry…

After a few, long, uncomfortable, moments he was back on two legs with two arms a torso and a head… Everything seemed in order… Except… His hair felt longer…

“Well, you didn’t get stuck with horse legs,” Patton giggled. His shift having gone flawlessly.

“How bad?” Roman asked.

“Just, long hair… And it’s still white. But you can fix that. Just breathe for a few moments,” Virgil insisted. Roman nodded and did just that…

“There you go. Short and auburn once more,” Virgil said in approval. “Though it did look good long,” he added.

Roman blushed. Maybe, he could try growing it out… Just to see if he liked it. There were hair growth potions. He could have long hair within 24 hours if he wanted.

Virgil saw how Roman was running a hand through his hair and smirked at him. Roman blushed, knowing he was caught.

“Now. Let’s go,” Virgil said, a little smug. Okay that was not necessary.

“I doubt the temple will have an arrow pointed at it’s entrance. Our best bet is the eastern side, that’s where the closest village is and he cult members will need some supplies and possibly contact with their families from time to time. It makes the most sense to have your exit near the road you need to take to get those things,” Virgil mused.

“Once we get close to that road, we’ll have to find the entrance or have good timing and see someone enter or exit. We’ll need a lot of luck either way. I wouldn’t be surprised if whoever did this has measures in place to protect the cult from detection,” Virgil mused as they came upon the lake. Now Roman was the one who couldn’t help but feel smug.

Virgil looked back at him curiously. Roman shrugged humbly. Virgil was intrigued and impressed.

“Care to share?” Logan stated a bit annoyed.

“Well. We won’t need that much luck. A sunstone needs sunlight to charge right?” Roman pointed out. Virgil’s eyes widened.

“But how are they getting that in a temple at the bottom of a lake?” he realized.

Roman nodded and pointed at a very, very small island with what looked like an open well in the middle.

“I’ll bet money that that shaft ends directly above the sunstone. And if it were blocked by something, say a branch…” he pointed out.

“Then someone would have to hurry to the surface to remove it so the sunstone won’t go without power in the middle of the night and fail to keep their god in his beastly form!” Logan finished.

“That… Is quite smart,” he added.

“No need to sound so surprised. Just because you are the smart one doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be dumb,” Roman huffed.

Logan was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry Roman. You are right. You made it through the same training as me. I know you can be very smart. Smarter than me in certain ways. I am sorry for doubting you,” Logan admitted.

Roman was a little taken aback now. “Oh… Thank you. It’s… good to hear you say that actually,” he said after a few moments.

Logan nodded. “That goes for you too Patton,” he added.

“Oh, that’s alright. Thanks anyway,” Patton smiled brightly.

“Well. Let’s head to the east side and see if the plan works,” Virgil suggested, more than a little proud of Roman for his strategy.

Virgil looked at him. Inquisitive. Roman glanced at the moon crystals around the high mages neck pointedly. Virgil's eyes widened in surprise, and he cocked his head curiously. Roman shrugged. Modest and offering a bit of the admiration he felt for him and the uncertainty he'd felt about suggesting something that might've been obvious to the high Mage.

Virgil smiled at him fondly and presented him with a feeling of awe of his own. Roman vaguely remembered that feeling pressing at his consciousness when he got past his inner walls while transforming into a horse.

It was not the same awe Roman had shown. The respect and admiration for Virgil's talents as a mage.

Virgil had been impressed, sure. But it was mixed with the sort of awe you feel witnessing a particularly beautiful sunrise.

He blushed. Virgil smiled satisfied, eyes drifting briefly to his lips with want.

Oh gods!

"Ahem," Logan interrupted.

"Sorry. Roman just told me that he came up with his strategy when he saw me put the crystals in the moonlight to charge. He didn't say anything until now because, like how you assumed that your spell wasn't something new, he didn't want to come off as condescending by offering a plan I already had worked out," Virgil surmised. Roman felt excited to hear that the translation was so accurate. They really were getting good at this.

Logan waited for a moment. Studying Roman's expression and concluding Virgil had interpreted everything correctly. The studious great wizard mage shook his head. "I suppose we'll just have to get used to it," he muttered.

"Indeed. We will be a bit more mindful of what topics might be best discussed out loud," Virgil offered before turning to Roman.

"There is something I would like to ask out loud while we walk though," he said softly in a way that had Patton and Logan slow their pace and start their own conversation tk offer then privacy.

"Sure, what is it?" Roman asked, matching Virgil's volume.

"You know how I asked for time?" Virgil asked. Roman nodded.

"And I know you have been very bad at taking it slow," he teased.

Virgil smirked. "If I wasn't taking it slow, I would have kissed you as soon as I knew my feelings were returned," he stated, making Roman flush. Kissing Virgil... that was something he'd been trying not to think about. But now... he was definitely thinking about it.

Virgil chuckled. "I know that the idea of ascending... is a lot. But would you consider it? To give me a bit more time?"

Roman stared in confusion.

"I know that outliving everyone might not appeal to you. But... I need a bit more time to decide if I want to stay. And, if you'd be willing, I'd like to have that time without a ticking clock on your mortality over my head. It is not a demand. Just a request. Would you be willing to ascend and accept the gift of time, just for a few years?"

Roman frowned. "With staying... you mean..."

"I mean, I would grow old with you," Virgil nodded. "You know you aren't the first man I've had feelings for. And the subject of growing old together has come up in relationships before. But this is the first time I've thought of it so soon and without prompting. I don't know how I feel about age and, eventually, death, right now. Too much else is going on. And I don't know how long it will take to fix everything. But... I have seen high mages find partners they couldn't live without. I figured I'd gotten good enough at goodbyes and cherishing memories to not experience that. But... When I get to know someone, there is a moment where I consider how I'll miss them when they are gone. And it's never a happy thought... but it has never... felt so wrong before. And I don't know if that's just due to our bond or because the situation is so crazy and you are the one thing I can completely trust right now... but I'll need time to figure it out. Again. You don't Have to. It's not like if you don't feel ready to ascend then a relationship is off the table. I just thought I'd ask," he explained nervously. Roman felt his heart race in his chest at the implications of all that he was feeling from Virgil. And what he was saying.

"Virgil. I have been taking an interest in what being immortal is like because I wanted to decide whether I would be able to live with it. And the way you see it. To carry on so many stories... to make sure that the ones I love are remembered even if only by me. I think that would be a grand adventure. Especially with a partner at my side. Though it won't be a requirement. Even if it hadn't been you who we found first. Once I heard of the possibility of rising even higher in rank, it would be on my mind as something I might want to do,” Roman confessed. Something wordless passed between them.

"We're here!" Patton announced, pulling them from their little bubble.

"Okay. Time to see if this works," Virgil nodded as he appraised a nearby tree. He chose a branch that had already suffered from a recent storm from the looks of it, but still had enough leaves for their purposes. With a swift pattern of hid hand, the branch was severed and floated over to the island. Roman noticed Virgil's feathers glowing. He was using his own plumage as a catalyst. Brilliant.

The branch covered the well, and the four mages settled in the grass to lie in wait for someone to come out.

They kept quiet. Roman saw Virgil clench his messaging stone in his hand and covered it with his own in a soothing gesture. They'd save his friend. Soon.

Suddenly a rock near the water moved. Someone walked up. Shielding his eyes from the sun.

Virgil jumped up and before the robed figure could even look up a strong wind pushed him back into the lake where he was immediately tangled in fast growing vegetation. They tried to scream but no sound came out.

"Let's go," Virgil instructed, leading the way down the staircase. Roman glanced at the cultist, left trashing in their binds, before following swiftly, pulling the spear out of the satchel. Hoping it would serve him well in battle.

He was right behind Virgil so the moment the sunstone’s magic overpowered his moon crystals Roman could step in and finish whatever enemy Virgil might be facing.

They hurried down the stairs. The farther they got before an alarm was raised the better.

They hadn’t had a lot of time to study and Roman had only come up with a few ideas to help protect them.

They soon came down to the first floor.

“There’s three floors total,” Virgil announced, his eyes glowing purple. Roman trusted that whatever he just did, ensured that that information was accurate. So this was floor one.

This was their first true hurdle, luckily there were only five cultists on this floor. To their left there seemed to be supply rooms and to their right a small library. Roman doubted any of those books contained anything good though.

One of the cultists turned to the exit. Roman knelt down and willed the door opening to close itself. The stone obeyed him. It wasn’t very thick as he had to draw from the surrounding stone and didn’t want to weaken the structure of the building too much. A few firm hits of a sword or something like it would probably break through. But it discouraged the runner from trying to reach the lower floor and it would delay reinforcements.

Virgil did something similar by sinking two cultist, who’d been blinded by Star rushing them in his amorphous form, up to their knees into the floor.

Patton tackled one in wolf form and then shifted back, putting him to sleep.

While Patton tied his victim up Logan shot an arrow to the fourth cultist that hit him in the tight and turned out to contain a fast working nerve agent. The cultist went down. Roman smirked as the fifth one charged him with a club. He used the blunt end of his spear to knock it out of his hand and then sidestepped him and gave him a firm knock on his head knocking him out.

“They don’t seem like they are high in rank. Don’t expect more senior members to be as unprepared or weak,” Virgil advised as Roman and Logan tied their victims up for good measure.

Roman nodded. Patton took down the barrier with a decisive strike from his staff.

“Nice,” Roman complemented. Patton smiled brightly and then they headed down.

Behind them they could hear the sound of armored men coming down a staircase.

Good. Reinforcements were right where they needed them to be.

Virgil flinched halfway through and stifled a pained cry with his fist before turning into a phoenix again. Roman flawlessly caught him and put him on his shoulder. The stairs were too narrow to fly. But the second floor wasn’t.

Star wasted no time and pounced on the first cultist he saw. Before Virgil took off, before Roman had a chance to take in his surroundings. First he spotted the doorway and did the sealing again.

But this time, a cultist barged through the door and rushed downstairs.

“We are on a timer now!” Virgil’s voice echoed through the room. Oh… Well it seemed managed to maintain human speech now when he was forced to transform.

Roman looked up as he pulled stone from the floor to create an armor for himself. This time there were ten enemies and they were down a fighter. One who could restrain his opponents anyway.

Virgil dove for the cultists and clawed at their faces causing them to let out painful enraged cries.

The room was bigger. And more what Roman expected when he imagined a cult’s temple.

There was an altar in the middle with a chalice, stained with something that Roman feared was blood.

Along the walls were murals. On the left one depicting a fire breathing chimera and kneeling figures offering it food on one side while on the other figures were carrying things away towards a taller figure drinking from a chalice and holding a shiny staff. In front of them a sun god type figure bestowing some kind of blessing on a figure with a similar headdress to the bigger figure in the first drawing. On the right there was a very detailed anatomically accurate dissection of a chimera depicted. That… Was just wrong. Magical beings were near or fully sentient and as Roman learned, in this case probably an actual human being. Not that any of this would be okay with an average animal. But the sentience of the creature made it extra bad.

Stardust whined as the enemy threw him off. Which enraged Patton who turned into a bear and slapped him several feet to the side, causing him to make hard impact on the floor. He came back up bizarrely quickly.

These guys really were tougher than the previous set.

It didn’t matter though. They would still defeat them.

Two cultists came at Roman with clubs, but he managed to avoid the first attack and while the second one hit, it was absorbed by his armor. Good, it worked the way he intended then.

Considering a backhand from a bear hadn’t discouraged the first guy, he opted for some sharp end action. He stabbed one of his attackers in the shoulder, which did bleed and did get him to his knees. The other one he stabbed in the foot. Also highly effective.

He tied them up and reassured them that the wounds wouldn’t kill them while reinforcing the ropes with some Magic. He heard someone rushing him from behind, laid his hand on the floor and just let his magic go ham. When he turned around he saw someone with a raised club, aiming for his head now frozen in place as waterweed had wrapped itself all around him to the point where he couldn’t move a muscle.

Roman looked up to his friends as he went back to patching up the cultists wounds, though he was starting to think he was being much too nice. Still, if they lived they could be punished.

And just because they were nasty people didn’t mean Roman could hold himself to a lower standard.

Logan was panting, his eyes wide as three more paralyzed cultists laid around him. Each being shot at least three times before going down as far as Roman could tell.

Bearton was wrestling with a guy, three others hanging from nasty looking hooks by their robes. Stardust growled and jumped on the guy’s back, biting him making hip cry out and allowing bearton to pick him up and hang him next to his buddies. Then Patton returned to human form and put the four of them under a sleeping spell.

He looked down at Stardust who’d jumped of once Patton had a hold of his opponent.

“You’re such a good boy,” he cooed, ruffling Star’s head, much to the wolf’s delight.

“Well… Those weren’t normal people,” Logan concluded.

“They had a lot of magical parts at their disposal,” Virgil’s voice echoed as he flew to Roman to land on his shoulder once again. “Never mind them though. The soldiers will deal with them. We should go,” Virgil insisted. “The enemy expects us this time and there is only one doorway,” Logan pointed out.

Roman nodded. “I’ll take point. Whatever they send in, my armor can take. And I have a little surprise for them in return,” he stated determinedly.

“… Yes,” Virgil agreed reluctantly.

“Patton, you carry Virgil for a bit. I don’t want him to get hit on accident,” Roman insisted. Virgil disliked hopping over to Patton’s shoulder even less, but he didn’t protest.

Roman took a deep breath and charged down, feeling a fire in his heart. He could do this. He had it planned out. No hesitation. Just push through.

Great plan… But then he got hit with magic. Most of it got tanked by his armor, but that was about all it could take. He fell to his knees, though he oversold how hard the spell had hit. It stung, his chest ached. But he wasn’t out of commission. But his hands were on the floor so he was ready to pull his biggest trick. He was a bit winded, not just from the fighting but also because he’d been casting without any catalyst. Which saved time in combat, but it also left him tired. Especially after trotting all the way here with a person on his back.

He looked up. There were twenty beefy soldiers in loincloths and red body paint, rather than robes before him. Forming a barrier between him and the back of the room where an ornately dressed individual with a staff in hand pointed at Roman. A slain disciple before him and behind him a pillar of glowing sun stone and chained to it in golden chains a chimera.

That, no doubt was Remus.

“Killing your own disciples Marcus?” Virgil’s voice wondered discussed as he, Patton, Logan and Stardust came up behind Roman.

“… It can’t be…” the magic user breathed in disbelief.

“It can. And it is,” Virgil stated, hopping over to Roman’s shoulder.

“Now why did you kill the boy who came to warn you. Giving you an advantage you need, but won’t save you if I am honest,” Virgil insisted.

The mage righted himself. “He failed to be useful in battle, his blood will instead aid me in mine,” the leader said coldly.

“That attitude is why you look like crap. I expect any student of mine to be smart enough not to indulge in dark magic,” Virgil scolded. This guy used to be a student of Virgil!?

The mage cackled and now that Roman looked a bit closer, there was something off about him. He had markings that on first glance looked like birthmarks or scars, but now that he paid attention, they didn’t look right. Almost tar like, some were even bubbling slightly.

“A sacrifice I made for my disciples. It took a while to tame the tyrants beast but I promised them strength and longevity. None of us look in our seventies do we?” he stated proudly.

“So? I don’t look my age either. You aren’t special,” Virgil scoffed.

“But you, like this beast have been shunned by the sun, while I am the sun’s chosen master of time!” the nutjob announced.

“Says the guy wo didn’t manage to become a mage until he was halfway his twenties. You never even became a great mage. You are impatient and arrogant and unwilling to learn what you don’t already have talent for. You were a waste of recourses and time. And you still are. Now, be smart about it and let Remus go. Otherwise, it’ll be so much worse,” Virgil warned, his feathers standing on end.

“The tyrant’s beast? I would, but he hasn’t even acknowledged your presence Shadow of the Sunbird. Your friend has faded long ago and is now a docile pet. He does not even respond when he is harvested anymore,” Marcus taunted.

Roman glanced towards Virgil, wondering if he could go for it.

Virgil’s caution vanished, leaving only cold seething rage. Time to go for it.

He poured all his strength into this next attack. They were at the bottom of the lake now so he pulled not just from the stone, but from the lake as well, even pulling up some sunstones from underneath. If his creation made contact with the big one they’d be charged and it could use them to do some rudimentary magic.

It came with risks it meant the ground under them was less stable. As it was there was a big crater between him and the soldiers. In it stood his creation. A ten feet tall Gollum made of stone.

“Protect my friends,” he ordered. A simple order with enough wiggle room for him. Virgil clearly disapproved though. Noticing that Roman hadn’t included himself in the order. He didn’t need to be protected. He was going to do something potentially dangerous and he couldn’t have his Gollum try to stop him to keep him safe.

“Go take care of the chackles. We’ll keep the bad guy busy,” Roman promised.

Virgil felt mad but then a roar sounded and the Gollum barged through the front lines, Marcus disappeared to avoid his rampage. Clearly the Gollum had decided that taking out the biggest threat was a good course of action. Roman was a little proud. About ten soldiers focused on the Gollum. Leaving a more manageable number for Roman and his friends to deal with.

None of their attacks even phased it though as it rushed for the sunstone and grabbed it tight, glowing with magic. The Chimera stirred and got up. Roused from his slumber by all the ruckus.

They had to work fast. Once the restraints were broken and Remus realized that he was free, who knew how he’d react.

Another reason why he’d made the Gollum so big.

Something had to keep a rampaging Chimera from accidently squishing his friends if his own idea to keep that from happening failed.

Right now he should focus on not getting his head smashed in. Patton and Logan both had gotten the hang of their given weapons. Patton switching between casting and hitting with his staff. Making hybrid forms near flawlessly. Using parts of animals Roman had never seen before. He didn’t know what kind of animal had a tail like that but it could support Patton’s entire weight allowing him to use his donkeylegs to deliver a phenomenal kick that the beefed up cultists just weren’t prepared for. He combined that with eagle wings on his back so he could get a bit of altitude and bring his staff down with all his weight behind it. His arms were thicker and covered in black fur the skin of his hands grey.

He left his opponents dazed on the ground and unable to go back for seconds.

Logan managed to keep his opponents on a distance with arrows that seemed to spark with lightning and halt them in their stride.

Roman meanwhile was ready to see what damage a falling star could do in the hands of a great mage. He let his remaining strength flow into the weapon that was forged as a sign of appreciation and friendship and he felt a kinship with the spear. A promise somehow. He fought on and looked up briefly as he heard his Gollum roar. It had grabbed the pilar with one hand and now it was merging with it. The pillar was about four feet tall and that might not sound big, but considering most sunstones were small enough to fit in a child’s hand, it was massive.

And now it was lifted out of the ground and the Gollum wielded it like a hammer.

“No hurt!” it demanded swiping at the cultists who were still trying to bring it down, pushing them back with a solar wind attack. Roman remembered reading about those while helping Patton study at the academy.

“There you go! Good job!” Roman called out before taking in his surroundings again. Suddenly he saw that one of the soldiers had grown a brain to use and had managed to sneak up in Logan’s blind spot. “Logan!” Roman gasped as he made a run for it, knowing he’d be too late but wanting to try anyway. He was closest by no one else could help. He swung his spear through the air to discourage anyone from coming near him and blocking his path. Logan looked up confused. But before he could even look at what had Roman so frantic, two invisible strikes hit the would be sneak attacker. Roman came to a stop. Did he do that?

“No hurt!” The Gollum repeated, clearly annoyed that his attempt at reasoning with the bad guys hadn’t gone well. A slam of his hammer had several enemies sink to their waist in the ground… Good. Right. Gollum had his friend’s back. That left someone to watch out for that Marcus guy.

Roman’s eyes found the cursed mage and he was doing his best to keep Virgil from breaking the Chimera’s chackles. Both individuals seemed to annoy the Chimera at the moment. Roman wondered if he even recognized his friend’s guide form right now. He hoped he did. Otherwise this rescue thing would end up really dangerous for them all.

Not that it wasn’t already.

He charged for the mage. “Hey! Ugly!” he called out effectively distracting the mage.

“Ugly? You want to see ugly?!” Well he struck a nerve.

The mage held out a hand and the body of the fallen disciple started to glow. Roman’s eyes widened in horror as he realized the blood was being drained from it and whirling around the mage in a grotesque ball of thick black tarlike substance, mixing with something similar pouring from the mage who’s eyes were glowing white.

Roman tried very hard not to throw up as he took a few steps back, while the goo covered the mage and then formed some kind of vaguely humanoid creature of nightmares. Oh shit…

“No hurt!” Roman’s Gollum insisted. Considering the nightmare man an immediate threat to the people he was entrusted to protect. He came charging in and knocked the creature in the stomach. While it didn’t leave the dark monster unphased it didn’t send him flying. The two giant creatures started wrestling. Making the ground shake. Roman trusted that he’d at least notice should his Gollum lose and focused on the Chimera in front of him. He held his spear ready. Keeping glancing around him to see if any enemies were approaching. Most were down it seemed. Logan and Patton could probably…

“Here he goes!” Virgil’s voice warned and Roman heard a snap. A wave of green energy went through the Chimera and he rose up with a roar. Yeah, those chackles definitely had been enchanted to keep him mostly docile.

Remus took in a deep breath and next thing Roman knew he breathed a blast of fire at his Gollum and the mage. Both of whom tanked it. In fact. Roman’s creature seemed to be even stronger now and getting the upper hand in this wrestling match. Good.

The Chimera breathed in again and this next blast was aimed at the room. Where Roman’s friends were. No way.

“Hey! Jackass!” He called out. Drawing the beasts attention. “Yeah! You want to fire on my friends you gotta start with me!” he demanded. The idea was crazy. And he wasn’t sure if he had enough energy to pull it off more than once but hopefully that would be enough time for Virgil to figure out how to calm his friend down.

Roman couldn’t back out now because it seemed like Remus was happy to oblige and unleashed the full force of his fire on him.

Roman responded by setting his magic free. Hoping to absorb the fire the way his Gollum had. Begging his guide, the bird that was born in fire, to not let the flames that were both death and birth to him consume him. To let him consume them instead.

His inner fire seemed to grow bigger as he felt the flames engulf him… But they didn’t hurt.

They were… Energy. An ocean of warm energy he could draw from… No, he could be a part off.

He was energy. He was fire… He was magic. He understood it now…

The flames were gone and Roman’s fire raged like never before. “Bad kitty,” he growled.

He heard chaos behind him, people fleeing. Seeing him tank that attack probably wasn’t great for moral. The source of their power had said Die and he said No thank you. Probably looked pretty cool.

Remus cocked his head curiously. Trying to figure out why the annoying little guy wasn’t burned extra crispy.

Then Virgil flew right in front of his face and he was distracted. He made a few rounds and Remus tried to catch him. Virgil flew up through the shaft which was just barely big enough for Remus to follow him through, Star took on his magic form again and followed after them.

The mage monster wailed and tried to grab for his captive. But Roman’s Gollum wasn’t having it.

“Everybody out!” Logan instructed right before the temple started shaking. Clearly a chimera climbing up through the sun tunnel was the last straw.

Roman reached for the ground and willed all bindings undone. The cult members were more concerned with survival than fighting now and rushed up the stairs, followed by Roman and his friends. They couldn’t exactly have them escape the guards.

Coming up on the first floor they saw a collective of guards had been ready to descend down to clear the last floor, the floor they were on now void of cult members.

Good.

“Get upstairs, we’ll worry about arrests when we’re all alive!” Roman insisted. All but two. His Gollum was still holding down the cursed mage and they would be the only ones lost today if Roman had a say in it. He was sad for his creation’s fate. But he was proud of him. He hoped it knew that.

The soldiers followed his orders and hurried up to warn their comrades that might still be in the crumbling building to hurry to the surface.

Roman noticed the chalice was gone as he rushed past the altar. Taken for evidence no doubt.

They rushed up the stairs the walls all around caving to pressure. Gods Roman hoped hat Virgil and his friend got to the surface okay.

“Get back!” Logan warned as they got to the top floor, the bookcases emptied and the supply closets were likely the same.

A piece of ceiling was coming down and that would have meant a watery grave for the three of them, five soldiers and 4 cult members if not for Logan halting the process and reversing it. From what Roman could tell he had put the entire room in a temporary stasis. The structure was trapped in the moments before the building started collapsing.

“Hurry!” Logan growled, prompting the group to rush up the stairs, Logan slowly backing towards them. Roman and Patton waited for him to drop the spell so they could all make it to the surface together.

They’d make it… They had to make it…

Roman fell to his knees in relief as they made it to the surface. After he took a moment to catch his breath he looked up… Everything looked in order. He counted 35 cult members arrested. Good. That was good.

“Oh! There they are!” Patton announced.

Roman looked up and saw a Chimera and something flying make it to the shore a long sprint ahead.

He looked to the knights and something caught his eye. A scissor blade. A unique sort of weapon and one he knew in his gut belonged to that Remus fellow.

“Good work everyone we’ll report back later. We need to finish up some business first. I’ll take that,” he said, grabbing the weapon and rushing* towards Virgil who’d just taken human form and was slowly approaching his friend.

They watched as the distance between them and the reunion got smaller and smaller and Virgil managed to put the moon crystal around the lion neck, making his friend turn into a man.

A big buff man, with hair like a lion’s mane with a streak of gray, his bare back covered in scales and his legs those of a goat. “Oh my,” Patton breathed as they slowed their pace to not ruin the no doubt emotional moment by barging in.

The man cracked his neck.

“Remus… I… I’m so glad to see you… I’m sorry it took so long. I…”

Remus held out his hand and the scissor blade disappeared from Roman’s hand into his own.

And just as they arrived… Virgil’s head fell to the ground. The lights in his shocked eyes dimming before them.

*Don’t run with Scissors kids.

[ilylovelyz]

I just need a very comfort sakusa story with a s/o struggling with s/h and su1c1d4l toughts and social anxiety

⍣ ೋ bittersweet symphony

˚ · . sakusa x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ depression, self harm, negative body image, social / general anxiety, angst, suicidal thoughts, sakusa is awkward, not dumb, bathing, angst with a happy ending

'cause it's a bittersweet symphony, thats life.

you hear the soft pattering of footsteps approaching. judging by the softness, you assume he's checking on you again.

sakusa had just returned from a long day of practice, one that was filled with thoughts about your concern and wellbeing. despite being sweaty and feeling immensely dirty, hungry, and almost exhausted, his first priority is to come to you.

he's careful not to startle you, making sure his footsteps aren't too loud or noisy.

despite hiding your face away from him, away from the world, you can still feel him kneel down to the floor next to you, his body weight resting on the front of his feet.

"hey," he softly says, his hand coming up to lay a comforting hand on top of your blanket clad back.

your back muscles instantly relax at his touch, the heaviness of his hand against your skin is almost oddly comforting to you.

he's almost sighing in relief when you don't fight him like you did this morning when the same hand is slowly pulling off the comforter off your body, revealing the distressed state that is you.

you're laying face down against the floor of the living room, it's a strange area you've chosen as your safe place, but he doesn't really seem to question it either. not that he wants to question you about it either, especially since you're in such a soft mental state at the moment.

"hey, how are you feeling..?" he asks again, his tone low and gentle. his hand comes up to pat the back of your head, his fingers intertwining with your tangled locks, twirling them around when he's noticed the built up oil.

you only hum a short response to him, too tired to say an actual word.

he sighs softly, his eyelids low as he wonders how to get you off the spot that is the dirty floor. you've been in a depressive state for awhile now, and while you've had your fair amounts of highs and lows, this is definitely the worst you've had in awhile.

he feels almost guilty and helpless as he wonders how to make you feel better. he thinks back to the night when you were having a mental breakdown because you thought you weren't enough, wondering if you should just end it all so that way everyone doesn't have to "deal" with you.

but sakusa can beg to differ.

sakusa understands. he's not an idiot, he's not one of those people who are on some stupid high horse and view those who simply have emotions as wimps. no, he's more than understanding.

while he's never had it as bad as you have it, but he can say that he's felt what you've been feeling before, and he knows that it's not the best feeling either.

and he knows these feelings of yours won't just disappear overnight, it takes time to heal.

and luckily for you, sakusa is a patient man. he won't stomp his feet with frustration when you turn down his offer of going on a walk with him, too embarrassed and scared of the thought of being seen by numerous people in your current state, nor will he scold you for not eating the food he made you because you just don't feel like eating.

no, he'll happily lift you up and carry you while he walks if he has to. he'll encourage you to eat, and small portion by portion, he'll make sure by the end of the day, your stomach is at least getting the nutrients and energy it needs.

"y/n," he calls out once more, a light bulb going off in his head as he gets an idea. he gets up and changes his position, sitting in front of you. he leans down ever so slightly, his hands gently encouraging you to look at him.

he's lightly smiling when you do, a soft glint in his eyes as he's proud of the little step you just took. to some, it's almost childish, to him, it's a blessing that you're wanting to lift your head up and look at him after being almost glued to the floor for the past two days.

the lover inside of him has him leaning down a little more to place a soft kiss onto your forehead, his hands still holding your jaw with the lightest pressure ever. "wanna take a bath with me? i bet it'll make you feel better. maybe make you feel more refreshed." he asks, removing one of his hands from your jaw so he can hold your hand.

when you softly shake your head positively at his request, he's shaking his head too, mumbling a little "yeah? yeah," as he wraps his arms around your waist, picking you up as if you were his child and carrying you to the bathroom.

he removes your clothes carefully, treating you as if you were fine china. the water is warm, set to your favorite temperature. he'll lead you into the bath, his hand guiding you into it so that way you don't slip.

"does it feel better?" he'll ask while washing your hair, his hands massaging the base of your scalp with a pressure that as you relaxing into him. he's almost prideful when you hum pleasingly at his touch, finding comfort that his attempts don't go unnoticed.

then it comes to wash your body. he starts with your neck, the back of your ears, and shoulders. it almost tickles you, the way his fingers are expertly touching you in your most sensitive spots and pressure points. you try to shy away from his touch, a little self conscious in your body and unshaved skin, but he doesn't allow you to.

"you're so pretty," he whispers against your nape, his hands pausing against your skin to squeeze at your flesh.

you're then stilling again him when he starts to scrub against your arms, cheeks heating up with self-loathing and shame when you're reminded of the clear old and fresh scars on your wrists that lead up to almost your elbow.

you thought he would maybe scold you for it, or maybe look at you with disgust, scared of what you thought was ugly and mortifying.

you almost melted when he just continued to scrub around your scars, the pressure of the scrubbing lightening around that specific area as to not irritate some of the more fresher ones. "this doesn't hurt right? not too rough?" he asks casually, not seeming to even mind the cuts.

it almost brings you to tears, the way he's just so gentle and accepting to you.

towards the end of the bath, he'll quickly wrap a towel around you first, not wanting you to get cold. as his hands wrap the towel around your frame, his hands close it in over your chest, his eyes soft and tender. you fight the urge to cry when he's then pulling you in for a kiss, his hold on you never ending and warm.

he'll hold you there for awhile, never minding that he doesn't have his own towel, or that he's almost on the verge of shivering because he's cold.

sakusa will happily lift you up into his arms once more, not minding the wet puddles that follow after his footsteps. he'll happily tuck you into the warm covers that is the bed he used to share with you.

he'll happily play with your now cleaned hair, knowing that you like it when he plays with your hair until you fall asleep. it takes awhile until you do, he'll ignore the cramp in his fingers after playing with your hair for almost an hour until you finally lull asleep, but sakusa is a patient man.

afterall, healing is a long process, and the two of you have all the time in the world to heal and rest.

please leave a like and repost with tags :)

[vaicomcas]

The Frame Job

Another bitter Cas fan moment out of S13x6 Tombstone.

I talked in the other note about how Castiel actually looked sad throughout the episode. He was tentative, unsure what his place was. He felt guilty for not being there for Jack.

Then there was that (rare) scene of Castiel one on one with Jack in the hotel room.

Castiel: Jack, your mother, she believed that you would do amazing things. She said that you would change the world for the better. And now, looking at you, talking to you, I know that she was right, that we were right. Kelly would be so proud of you. (Then Jack was distracted by laptop and rushed to tell Dean about hunting clue)

But this was NOT intended to show them bonding. Just the opposite. It was to set up Jack's devastation later to contrast his deadly accidental killing with the "expectation" that was given to him, such that he became convinced that he was a monster. Before running off, Jack said the line "I can't make the world better" to make sure the connection is made.

It was received as intended. Back in the days when I still read fandom posts, I saw a lot of criticism of Castiel for giving Jack pressure to do good, even from hard-core bitter Castiel fans.

But like, first of all, it was a frame job. There are a lot more normal and logical moments they could have chosen to write for Castiel's first 1:1 time with Jack: to ask Jack about his experience so far or to teach Jack about angel powers (or for Jack to ask questions about Nephilim species or about Castiel himself or ask about his mother- the list goes on). But that was never what the show wanted or allowed for Castiel and Jack.

But let's just ignore writer's intent for the moment. Even if this WAS the first thing Cas said to Jack when given time together, what's so bad about that? He just came back from being dead. All he had to go on was what he and Kelly believed about Jack -- that Jack was a force for good, as opposed to the expectation from most that he would be evil. Castiel's first priority was trying to reinforce that. Perhaps, even without asking, he intuited that the Winchesters would not do such a good job convincing Jack of it.

And, as should go without saying, it was the Winchesters (mostly Dean) who are to blame for Jack's devastation at the end of the episode. Since the beginning of the season, they pounded into Jack the impression that he was already an irredeemable monster at worst (Dean), or was human enough that he could be taught to suppress his evil side at best (Sam).

But of course, after Jack saved their lives a couple times, and they all had therapy, Dean changed his tune slightly and admitted Jack wasn't so bad, so the Winchesters and Jack got to be portrayed as a happy family, only to have Jack run away traumatized as soon as Castiel returned.

Castiel's return was what should have saved Jack from his traumatization. Because unlike the Winchesters, Castiel believed him to be INHERENTLY good.

But no, Castiel just came back from the dead for 15 minutes, had 5 seconds alone with Jack, and could immediately be used as the fall-guy for Jack's loss of self-worth.

[poisonedspider]

Alright, alright, a bunch of you told me to just go at it soooo. I'm putting it under a read more. Also very large trigger warning, this entire starter relates to suicide, mental health (specifically PTSD), trauma, etc. This is an open starter, so please reply if you want to and feel comfortable handling really intense mental health struggles.

There was honestly no point anymore. That was it, mic drop, curtain closed. I'm sick of the poison, wish I had something to live for tomorrow. The thing was, he wasn't even certain if he did. He had been in Hell a long time, pushing triple the amount of years that he was alive. It hadn't seemed so bad....at first. Hell, in some odd sort of way, was more comforting than his living years. At least down here he got to be himself, no judgment, because everyone else was on #teamdebauchery as well.

The lifestyle had been beyond fun at first. It had even been fun when he had met Valentino. Valentino, who had appeared like some fucking Greek God (or, Latino God, should he say?) and swept him off his feet. Found value in him, didn't mind his bad habits, told him he was beautiful and wanted. If he had known then what he had known now - well, he didn't know if he would have left with Val after his shift at Club 666.

It had still been a decade or so before the contract was signed. And then everything started to get messy. The drugs were never enough to numb it, the hundreds of men could never fill the aching pain in his heart. Between all three Vees, Angel had had to leave. Val, for the most obvious reasons. But he knew when he didn't belong somewhere, when he wasn't wanted. That had been his whole experience being Henroin's son. And he could only stand so many thrown slurs and insults before he would lose it.

He had when he was alive, after all. He had found solace in death.

And maybe, just maybe, that had been what had landed him here. Sitting on top of the roof on the edge of Pentagram City, between the Magne District and Cannibal Town. It was far enough away from the Entertainment District owned by the Vees, or the Mafia and Weapon district where he might run into family. Far enough away from the hotel.

The hotel. His friends. His chosen family. He loved them, but he couldn't say he knew if they felt the same. All they knew of him was the fake persona he put on, the show he performed every day. A bullshit lie, starring the one and only Angel Dust! Cue the fake applause track. He had done it to himself, of course. He would rather be rejected for an image of who he was, then be rejected for his true self. He'd already had that happen too many times. By his dad and brother. By Valentino.

Charlie, she cared, but she cared about everyone. But ever since Pentious had moved into the hotel, she had seemed to put less attention in her first and only patron. He didn't blame the serpent, but it had driven him into a further spiral. Valentino was right - addict trash like him never changed. No matter how much he tried, and put in genuine effort, it wasn't going to matter. At the end of the day, he still sucked dick for a living. He still hid cocaine under his mattress.

And of course there was Husk. Husk, who Angel had started to fall for, even though it terrified him. Love was terrifying. But Husk had always pushed away his advances. Seemed annoyed by him. Uninterested. Maybe their little 'moment' had changed things, but it hadn't seemed like it did. While Husk smiled at him more and seemed more proud of him, Husk still had said he was tired of Angel being fake. And the sad thing? Husk had probably been who he was most real towards. Flirting or otherwise, it was because he had....wanted to try. With him.

This all led to here. He of course had tied all possible loose ends, or so he thought. He had cleaned out his room, the neon lights and pictures and fluffy purple pillows shoved into boxes, looking like he had just decided to move out without a word. Given up. Maybe he had. Fat Nuggets had been the hardest. It hurt his heart to leave his hellpig behind, but Nuggets deserved a better mom than him anyways. He had left a note for Charlie, not about his plans, but secured under Nuggets' collar. Please take care of him. xoxo Angie

Short, simple. He knew she would, too. Just like she did for Keke, for Razzle and Dazzle. Getting the angelic weapon had been the easiest part. Valentino's cabinet was stuffed with them. While Angel didn't have the money to get one on his own, it was incredibly easy to take one from Val. One would think it wouldn't be, but despite their rocky relationship, Valentino trusted Angel. He knew Angel still loved him, and would never do anything to hurt him. Not to mention that by contract, he couldn't.

Valentino would notice one of his guns missing eventually, but it would be too late by then. He had thought nothing could possibly be worse than being alive. Now he felt like nothing could possibly be worse than being dead. And double dead? That was the only unknown. Though surely, nothing could possibly be bad when ceasing to exist. He would never know it. He'd be gone. Nothing. Just like he felt in that moment.

He flipped off the safety, taking a deep breath. He knew how to do this - guns were his specialty, he'd killed so many people before. But fuck if this wasn't scary. When he had died, it hadn't been intentional. Maybe it had been unconsciously - he had wanted to die, and he had taken just too many drugs, more than he knew he could handle. He had slipped into the coma, and he had never woken back up. This was different. This he had to actively pull the trigger. Angel didn't consider himself weak, but he hated how his hands were shaking in that moment.

Hammer pulled back, gun cocked, he looked over Pentagram City one last time. In an eerie way, it was beautiful. He didn't belong amongst any of the good here. An angel he was not, despite his namesake. No, he was just Anthony. Scared. Alone. Nothing. Worthless. He had to shake his head to snap out of it, knowing the best aim - gun positioned right underneath his chin, angled so that he wouldn't fuck it up and end up suffering until he died of blood loss. Finger on the trigger. It would be okay....it would be okay....it would all be over in just three....two....

[hastalavistabyebye]

Trans Clone Week : Day 5

Prompt : nightclubs (79's) ;

(https://www.tumblr.com/sunshineprincejeremyknox/742328449316880384?source=share)

@clonefandomevents

-------

It was the first time Echo went to 79’s like that. Of course the rest of the 501st was used to it now and all of them were supportive and amazing. But it wouldn't be just the 501st at the bar. And the Domino twins had quite the reputation, they didn't go unnoticed anymore. It’s not that Echo wanted to blend in either, not really, but it very much was stressful. 

She was fixing her hair for the hundred times, analyzing her makeup carefully in the refresher’s mirror, even if the pretty colors and glitter hadn't changed at all in the last minutes. Tup had done a wonderful job, better than Echo could have ever dreamt of. She had never felt so pretty and like her face was her own before, not like that. It was perfect and she loved it but she also couldn't help herself, stop her thoughts. Going over and over again everything that could go wrong, every bad reaction the people they would cross could have, on their way to the bar and once there. What if they misgendered her anyway ? What if they look at her differently now ? What if- 

A knock on the door-frame got her out of her spiraling thoughts. Fives was smiling at her, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed.

“Come on gorgeous, stop fretting and let’s get you drunk !” Her batcher said while taking hold of her hand and pulling her out of the tiny room. 

The appreciative whistles and jeers that the rest of their group exploded in, once they saw what Echo looked like, was enough to ease her mind a little. She playfully turned on herself slowly, letting them appreciate her outfit from every angle, soaking up Kix’s happy and proud gaze, Jesse and Hardcase’s ridiculous compliments, Tup’s radiant smile, positively beaming at her, and Rex and Dogma’s quiet admiration and appreciation.

She had very carefully counciled from them the clothes she had chosen, just to surprise them today. Fives had helped her, insisting that she try that shirt, and she had to admit she absolutely loved how the neckline was plunging low and how the fabric was tied high under her chest, letting her waist in full sight. Echo was the one to choose the skirt, even if a bit hesitantly at first. But she loved right away the feels of the soft ruffles moving at her every movement. And the look Fives gave her, when he saw her try it for the first time, was confirmation enough regarding what she looked like in it. She felt as beautiful as they told her she was. For a moment, her stress vanished, drowned in her shared happiness with her closer friends. 

On their way inside 79’s, Echo’s stress came back with a vengeance. There were so many people and the what if’s started ricocheting in her brain even faster than before, seemingly pulsing with the music. She hated to react like that, it was just 79’s ! They had gone there countless times before and it was only vode packed in here !! There was nothing to panic about. 

Still, her hand closed even tighter around Fives’ who simply stroked her knuckles reassuringly with his thumb, letting her know that he was here and everything was okay. After all, Echo tried to remind herself, it might not be the first time that they went to 79’s or any club for that matter. But it was the first time that she went as herself. 

She was taking careful, soothing breath, trying to calm herself, tucked safely among her friends, letting herself be stirred to a booth while Hardcase was fetching their drinks. She was stirred back to the present when Rex nudged her shoulder, pointing at a half peeled-off poster on one wall, close to them. In a happy sort of calligraphy, it displayed proudly the words ‘Girls will be boys. Boys will be girls. Fascists will be shot.’

“I tend to agree with it.” The Captain shouted in her ear over the music. “And I know everybody else here shares my opinion.”

Rex smiled at her, pointing next, first to the words at the bottom of the poster, written in what looked like red lipstick (if the kiss mark of the same color that punctuated it was anything to go by) : “Approved by the Coruscant Guard”. Then to some vode on the dance floor. That was when Echo finally saw the crowd for what it was and not for a dark, dangerous entity that could swallow her all. 

She smiled at her friends, truly understanding for the first time what she thought she already knew. Among all this makeup and dresses, skirts, crop tops, glitter. Among her vode, she was right at her place. 

The rest of the night was a happy blur of colorful alcohol, passionate dancing and voice-breaking singing. Just like all of the times before. 

[starqueensthings]

Surprise self-rec time! Pick 3 of your favorite things you’ve written and share them here, then put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate already written fics 💞

First of all, when the heck did my anon function turn on 😆 I genuinely thought I’d had that shit turned off! Apparently not!

Second, I heckin love when these self rec chains go around. There is little more beautiful in this world than watching a creator gush about their work when given the platform to do so… something they’re so proud of… something that brought them so much joy, all they want to do is share it with the people they love.

In true Holly fashion, I am going to be long winded about this, so please accept a read more as to not clutter up your feed.

1. Colder Weather - A 3-part post-stasis/Pirate Kix x fem!reader ficlet that promises to punch you right in the heart. This is probably the most emotional thing I’ve ever written, and while I know it’s not for everyone… boy am I ever proud of it.

2. Dork Love - A 4-part Tech x GN!reader ficlet that was supposed to only be one, but pulled a Miley Cyrus and couldn’t be tamed. It’s a mostly lighthearted little story about hard work, altruism, navigating a sudden and unexpected crush, and how one’s perception is not always reality. Because the fandom is extremely protective about Tech and his characterization in fanon extensions of canon, I’m sure this won’t be for everyone either… but writing something that read ND!Tech x ND!Reader was important to me.

3. The Only Exception - A fem!OC x Captain Howzer Longfic. I started writing it what feels like a lifetime ago, and I swore to my distant ancestors that it would never see anyone’s eyes but my own… That plan changed when I met some very supportive, OC-loving friends that encouraged me to share it with the world, and I’ve since been slowly tweaking it chapter by chapter to ensure my passive verbs and run-on sentences are brought to a level that’s readable for others hahaha it’s a very slow work in progress, but it’s the most throughout, detailed work I’ve ever funnelled energy into, and I’ll forever cherish June and her experiences learning and growing. (Not a self insert, though I wish it was. June is more bad ass than I could ever hope to be, though she has no clue.)

**snippets below the cut**

1. Colder Weather - Part One

Those optimistic moments often saw you rambling, thoughts slipping easily from mind to mouth in a desperate attempt to keep him connected to you; resolute in keeping him both physically and mentally present; urgently trying to protect him from the monster on his shoulders long enough for him to realize that everything he could ever want was lying peacefully beside him. Periodically, if your chosen topic was one he found particularly amusing, his eyes would crinkle under the embrace of a smile, and — if the universe deemed you worthy that night — a hoarse chuckle would pour from his lips. Despite your continued pleas to the stars, it was a sound that graced your ears with a tragic infrequence, yet the way its radiance illuminated your soul had you shamelessly begging the universe that it continue to spill from his lips for all eternity.

But despite the prophetic bond that kept him returning to your side, only once had the bliss of your union softened his guard enough to let something… slip. Only once had he mentioned a brother: Jesse, a man spoken of thoughtlessly as Kix snickered his way through the recollection of a frantic speeder ride across the plains of Saleucami. But the music of his laughter utterly vanished upon voicing the name that he never meant to speak, the silence that filled its wake so polluted in unexpressed grief, that even the hushed sounds of your breath felt inappropriate, and despite having watched the light leave his eyes so often in the past, you’d never seen it replaced with a darkness as deep and as sorrowful as then.

“Tell me about him,” you probed instantly, hopeful that the delicate touch of your hand on his shoulder would be enough to ground him there in the bed with you; hopeful that the soft caress of your fingers would prevent him from conceding to his anguish, tossing the sheet aside and leaving you with nothing but the familiar sight of his retreating back and the bittersweet smell of him lingering on your pillow.

2. Dork Love - Part Four.

“An apology is not required,” Tech spoke instead. “It would appear that I jumped to an inaccurate conclusion upon arriving here to find you missing. It was a most uncharacteristic overreaction, and one from which I now-suffer a great compunction.”

“Compunction?” you repeated, brows furrowing at the implications of his confession as you reached to pull the coils from his shoulder. “Why?”

Tech hesitated for only a breath, watching your nimble fingers blanch under the weight of the wire as you took it from him. “Well… several years of advanced training and exposure therapy have rendered me effectively inured to a multitude of scenarios that others may deem distressing,” he divulged as something near concern wiped the smile from your lips. “Yet, I failed to maintain control of my emotions in the face of your disappearance. I became largely inexorable, making objectively impetuous and questionable decisions.”

“Tech,” you uttered in little more than a consoling whisper, his stomach lurching as your free hand collected his from somewhere near his hip, those slightly chilled fingers weaving their way in between his before the soft, consoling brush of your thumb nearly weakened his knees. “There is nothing to regret. Worrying about someone is nothing to be ashamed of, and arguably even less so if that person is someone you care greatly about. In fact, an initial surge of panic followed by attempts to verify their safety is likely the expected psychological response to such concerns. You walked into what looked like a very foreboding situation and had no data to disprove your suspected theory.”

“I suppose that is correct,” Tech shrugged, dropping his gaze to the toe of his oily boot, “Though it has been several years since I last studied the sympathetic subsection of the autonomic nervous system in response to traumatic stimuli.”

“Sounds like an interesting read,” you mumbled through a sarcastic smile that prompted the return of his gaze. “Tell me– if the same situation presented itself again, would you not react similarly? Would you not do everything within your power to make sure that someone was okay while everything around you was telling you they’re not?”

“Of course I would.”

“Then that’s that,” you answered simply. “There’s no reason to regret your actions, just like I don't suffer any contempt for getting myself stuck on Ryloth. Making the trip there was the best and potentially only solution based on the information available to me at the time. Things went awry… and that’s okay, because we should always do what our gut is telling us to do when it comes to things and people that we care greatly about.”

And there it was: that intemerate benevolence that he wholly adored about you, reemerging to knock him over the head with a validation that he’d never experienced before… and the subsequent moment, as his eyes locked on yours and his grip on your hand tightened, he felt truly seen as himself. Not Tech the highly-skilled soldier… not Tech the ingenious mechanic responsible for keeping the GAR’s most elite squad in the air… not Tech the pilot who loved his datapad above all else and never slept. You saw Tech… accepting and welcoming him as he is; validating his infrequent displays of vulnerability as if humanity was something he could and should experience first hand without fear of persecution or judgement.

“Oh, and don’t think I didn’t catch that,” you added, brow shifting into a devious arch as a playful smirk tugged at your lips.

“Catch what, exactly?”

“The oxymoron you dropped in there: ‘found you missing’. Someone can’t be found and missing, hun. But keep dropping them– I’ll catch ‘em every time.”

3. The Only Exception - Chapter Two.

‘He’s just a soldier,’ she reminded herself with a snort of self-directed derision, desperately trying to extract her password from the depths of her distracted brain.

And he was. There was nothing overtly different or unusual about CT–5863 in relation to the hundred-or-so other clones that had passed in and out of her care since the war began. Quite frankly, there couldn’t be anything different about him, it was genetically impossible. So why had one look from this set of honeyed eyes seen her stomach careening into the next dimension and her nerves prickling as if every shift of his gaze left a trail atop her skin?

Thrice she tried and failed to enter her secure information into that software, yet its repeated beeps toward the inevitable system lock-out fell on entirely deaf ears, and it wasn’t until the screen strobed that she’d near-reached the maximum login attempts did some glimmer of awareness surge back to her.

“I’m Dr. Kiore,” June told him, attempting to banish that myriad of improper thoughts by corralling every cooperating neuron into entering her password, and the breath she’d unintentionally held in her lungs was granted their escape atop a sigh of relief as that familiar landing screen emerged in front of her. “What’s your name?”

“CT–58—”

“No, Captain, your name.”

“My name?” A puzzled pause preceded his answer, that brief second of hesitation having failed to lessen any of the obvious confusion behind those two words, and the notion that she may have to formally explain such a simple concept was the first to pull a smile to June’s lips.

But, “Howzer.” He recovered quickly, offering his name in the same tone he’d used upon hearing her tap on the door, and the small creases now wreathing those twinkling eyes as they narrowed in something close to suspicion entirely laid bare his continued bewilderment at her behaviour.

“Howzer,” she repeated, offering him a casual smile as she swiped her finger across the monitor and entered the information next to his designation number. “It’s nice to meet you.”

A moment’s innocent silence fell between them as she typed, masterfully toggling between different pages of his medical chart and familiarizing herself with the details of his treatment history. For an active soldier, particularly one that appeared as if he’d spent several respite-free rotations laying in the foreign dirt of a distant planet, his chart was remarkably vacant, the only few noted injuries being quickly treated in the field and recorded somewhat haphazardly by the trio of different medics who had seen him.

“I– I think that might be the first time a civilian’s asked me that,” he contemplated under his breath, eyes unfocussing as he rubbed that dirty palm across the stubble on his chin

“Yeah, well… they were supposed to ask downstairs,” June scoffed, the grumble swaddling her tone readily exposing the disdain for the repeated shortcomings of her colleagues. “I’ve asked them four billion times to try and remember, but of course no one listens to the youngest.”

While his lungs expanded to utter what was undoubtedly going to be another humorous quip, the sentiment was stolen off his tongue by a sudden and salient cringe of discomfort. In that otherwise banal motion of sitting up straight, hand reaching upward to thoughtlessly push those dark waves further back from his forehead, a spasm of pain quickly froze his actions, that sharp jaw quickly clenching behind olive cheeks as a muted grunt rumbled in his chest.

[xjulixred45x]

Hi if it's okay could I please ask for a romantic yandere Gojo with kianna

Like say he meets her because she's known as a sorcerer killer like she uses a curse shotgun and

she's killed so many Sorcerers it ended up with a

bounty on her head but knowing the amount of

body she's dropped no one has tried to kill her and he meets her because she worked with him on a job

And the Sorceress that don't want to try to kill her or want to use her blood she works with

By the way if you need any info about her it's on my patreon Tumblr

Pretty cool! I'll do My Best

Yandere! Satoru Gojo x Sorcerer Killer! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female(ft. Kianna from @nunezs-stuff )

Warnings: YANDERE(kind of soft, but still yandere), UNHEALTY MINDSET, OBSESIVE BEHAVIOR, MANIPULATION, intimidation, Reader is kind of a Assasin, Minor violence, Shady things in general.

You get in the business thanks to your...father. at a very Young age.

He was a sorcerer hunter, but he was much more interested in his job than in taking care of you, so you learned to do it on your own.

You were interested in the business at first because you wanted to be close to him, but you quickly realized that you would never have a REAL trust with him, a bond.

less when he apparently had your sister, his apparently favorite daughter and the only person you really loved, killed.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back and you developed a severe trust problem.

So you mainly locked yourself into your assassin capabilities to deal with it, you practiced, you trained, you stayed as far away from people (and your father) as possible, etc.

You had your favorite mistresses, but you were a very capable assassin whatever you used.

You were proud of yourself. so you started having your own targets instead of low level sorcerers.

That's how Gojo knew about you at first.

And honestly? You give him REALLY Bad flashbacks about Toji. SPECIALLY when he saw videos of you using your shotgun.

and at first Gojo wanted to say that he absolutely hated you, how could he not? You are like a reflection of one of his biggest traumas after all, no one blamed him.

But the more evidence the higher-ups brought about you and the more he had to know about you, the stranger he felt about you.

Satoru could sense that you were weak, so how the hell did you manage to kill so many sorcerers on your own? You were truly an anomaly.

Gojo began to have the need to want to know more about you. Why had you chosen this life? Why not another? What was your life like before that? He could do whatever he wanted, so it wasn't difficult for him to find practically your entire life story.

and in some ways he is intrigued.

To clarify, a Gojo Yandere has difficulty seeing you as an individual, so seeing that you have your own reasons, motives, LIFE, is what regenerates interest.

but that interest becomes increasingly morbid.

You're one of the most uninteresting things he's had for years, something he spends time researching and learning more about, like a test subject, is as bad as it sounds.

You are something new and interesting even if you are weak.

You're entertaining enough to amuse him watching you do your "antics" (kill people) but you're nowhere near as strong as him.

but when the higher ups give the order to put a target on your head, it changes. Sure, it's something that can't be avoided, but it's not like I'm going to let anyone other than HIM go kill you and/or capture you.

so he decides that he will do it himself.

and honestly? It doesn't take him long, with the contacts he has + the 6 eyes, finding you was a walk in the park for him.

But he wanted to see if you would be as interesting as you looked on paper and in videos.

and MY GOD, you reminded him of his meeting with Toji, what happened at Jujustu Tech, so many flashbacks came to his head and he felt for the first time in a long time OVERWHELMED with emotions.

he loved it.

and he knew that he couldn't miss the luxury of having you, he couldn't kill you. let alone let someone else kill you.

Honestly, you were scared, you already knew you had no chance with SATORU GOJO, so you tried to run away rather than fight, but obviously it was of no use. Even when you decided to fight it was useless. you expected Gojo to just attack you and kill you.

...but he wasn't doing any of that and it was starting to scare you, you didn't know what he was going to do.

Being in that state of total alert and fear (even if you hid it as best as you could, it was impossible for Gojo not to see right through you) imagine your surprise when you lost consciousness and when you regained it you were in a completely different place.

to begin with, with seals on your body that did not allow you to use cursed energy, and to top it off, without being able to leave said place (a Japanese house? where the Gojo clan lives).

If we go into more advanced terms of """""relationship"""" Gojo is very annoying as a Yandere, everyone knows it. But in this case especially some aspects are maximized and others are more lenient.

for example, with Gojo you can go out! but only to places where there is open space and just to be able to fight again, she seems to take some pleasure in beating you over and over again, or even giving you the chance to escape only to crush her at the last moment.

He's a sadistic son of a bitch in the emotional sense.

(You could say that since you remind him so much of Touji, it's like he's taking """loving" revenge" for everything he put him through in his youth, while also keeping you in line to that you understand "your place" so to speak).

He is VERY clingy, he cares little or nothing if you don't want cuddles. In fact, it only encourages him more to do it. Poor thing, you probably didn't receive any kind of affection from the shitty father you had, let him pamper you to make up for it~ CREEPY ASF.

About that, it's scary how much he knows about you, now that you're "dead" to the higher ups, he has a lot more information about you and he uses it against you (either to weaken you mentally or to make you develop Stockholm syndrome faster) .

He is PAINFULLY condescending, but at least he does not reach the point of infantilization or other extremes such as wanting to make you completely useless, it helps him that you are useful, NOT SO USEFUL AS TO FLEE, but enough to entertain him.

He is also a master at giving mixed signals.

I mean, yes, he kidnaps you ONLY because you entertain him and you are fun for him like a toy....but he also takes care of your wounds when you return inside his house, he makes food for both of you, he acts as a therapist so that you can talk to him on your own. about your horrible childhood and your bad relationship with your father, etc.

Obviously this is intentional, although over time he becomes more "genuine" and you could tell that he really cares about you in his own way.

and like any good yandere, he gets rid of anyone he feels is an obstacle to his goal. Even if he doesn't have any rivals, Gojo will definitely kill anyone he sees as potentially treating you in the future.

He has definitely killed your father for quite some time and you will be very lucky if he doesn't come to show you his decapitated head like a fucking hunting trophy :)

He is like a child without knowledge of suffering.

He simply has such NO knowledge of empathy that he doesn't know what he should do with all these new feelings and sensations that you generate in him.

He's not overprotective as such (he knows that if anything he should protect people FROM YOU) BUT he's definitely too possessive. As I said, he doesn't see you as an object as such, but he just doesn't know how he should refer to you. so it is very prone to using possessive adjectives.

escape attempts are received as jokes, literally, he cannot take them seriously. although in a way it is a double-edged sword, on the one hand you do not receive any punishment as such apart from a particularly sticky Gojo (isn't that a punishment in itself?) but on the other hand, again, so close and so far...

If you behave "badly" in the sense that you don't cooperate, you are rude to him, you try to escape too many times, etc. Gojo seriously thought about a severe punishment, but I don't think he'll do anything to break you... intentionally.

I think how much in this case it would scare you to death as a warning for you to start "behaving" but nothing more severe.

If you develop Stockholm syndrome, he's over the moon! His clingyness level would increase to 300% and even your life you can recover several basic rights, such as going out ON THE STREET with him and being able to have more autonomy. Even of course, Satoru dictates everything, your clothes, your food, your room, etc....

Be that as it may, for a Yandere Satoru, you are great entertainment, something worthy of his time, a wild cat that he is willing to tame, but an equal? not closely...although he is willing to try to find out what this feeling is that you have awakened in him, so you are not leaving him anytime soon.

or better yet. NEVER.

(just to clarify, TOJI IS NOT READERS DAD, ITS JUST A COMPARATION I MAKE ON MY OWN)

I hope You like it!!

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[smudge-elly]

daryl Dixon - pregnancy

You and Daryl have been trying for a baby for what has felt like months even years. But that time of the month just kept coming. But that changed this month. You wake up happy as ever knowing your two weeks late for your period. Daryl’s arm drapes over your waist still, shaking it to try and wake him up. He opened his eyes “good morning beautiful” he said with a groggy voice “morning” you said with excitement in your voice “why so exited my love” Daryl said now sitting up “ ok ok….so I’m two weeks late for my period. Daryl looks at you with confusion “ is that a good or bad thing” he said confused as ever , you let out a small giggle “ it means I might be pregnant” his eyes lit up “really are u being serious” he says with a big smile plastered on his face “well I have to take a test and then we will see” you say smiling too “okay so do u have a test” he says eager to find out if ur pregnant or not “I’ll go look” u say getting out of the bed “ I’ll help” he says basically running to the bathroom ye both opened the doors of the press, after ten minutes of rummaging through boxes of pads, tampons, toilet paper, baby wipes and soap bars you eventually found two pregnancy tests. Daryl asked if you wanted him to leave to take them but you told him to stay, u let the pregnancy tests sit for five minutes u took one and Daryl took the other, 1-2-3 you flipped them over looking down u see positive and so does Daryl you look at each other with excitement when Daryl gives you all you could do is cry you couldn't have chosen a better boyfriend than Daryl he was so perfect and was gonna be the best dad. When he hears u are crying he tells you “im so proud of u my love” his voice cracking a bit a tear streaming down his face “ok we need to book an appointment with the doc” you say with excitement “I’ll do that” he says kissing your forehead.

that’s it hope you guys likes it, please tell me if u have any ideas

byeeee😘👋

[dubiousduskwight]

Day 2: Horizon

“If you don’t mind my saying so, good sir, I think it’s finally come to me where I recognized your name.”

Kensuke could feel the scowl coming on and, because of that, his face starting to flush, for he had no reason to scowl. His accommodations in the village were meager but they were more than respectable, and he had chosen the village rather than to shelter in the Kato estate knowing they would be less than what the family could offer him. With much of the estate at least partially the scene of a crime in his eyes, he had chosen to sleep in the village to avoid contaminating it any further with his presence. And the villagers had been more than happy to help, giving him clean straw laid out in an old tool shed that he was quite certain lacked any spiders. As he saw it, things were all very nice.

And the woman at the doorway, Otoko, also gave him no cause to scowl despite the possibility that she was a murderer, somehow contriving to drag the master and mistress of the Kato manor out of their homes in the dead of night to pin them under a boulder in the wilderness and die of exposure days later. She was cheerful and kind, pretty in the manner of a peasant who had little time for the finer things afforded the spouse of Doman samurai of old, and nobody in the village had a bad word to say about her. This made her very suspicious to Kensuke, but it didn’t make her unpleasant.

Quite apart from all of that, he already knew what she would say, and that, too, was no cause for his expression. He tried to keep it concealed in the relative dark near the small, hooded lantern he was using for light before bed. “You do? You flatter me by remembering. What makes you say that?” “Tobe Kensuke, you said. From the Tobe family, right?” She leaned forward in the doorway, clasping her hands to her chest in a delicate grip just where her neck and shoulders disappeared beneath her kimono. “Great Magistrate Tobe Sakai. Are you related, perhaps?” The scowl sank further onto his face, threatening to become angry, and Tobe had to duck his head further back into the shadows to avoid being misinterpreted. Here, too, he had every reason to delight. He was proud of Sakai, and proud of the family tradition. Growing up, he had heard some of the stories of Sakai’s clever investigations, and how well he had served Lord Kaien. Kensuke wanted nothing more than to have his face light up in joy and let all around him see the pride he felt in his chest at his relation. But the kami had their way at his birth, and his spirit was all twisted.

“His grandson, actually,” he said, waving his hand where it could be seen in the light as if this were something to be dismissed. “You’ve heard of him?”

Otoko’s head bobbed, her eyes wide with delight “The master of the house read an old story to me, once. It was a story about a murder with a great prayer bell, and the magistrate showed how it could be lifted by one man with a pulley and a trick.”

“Ah, I know that one, that was a very good one. It was sad that he couldn’t stop all of the culprit’s murders, but at least he caught the man out in the end. Sometimes that’s how justice is, you know.” So Otoko had been in contact with the late master Toshiyuki. Perhaps his late wife’s insistence they were having an affair was true. He thought to press her on this, but she seemed in good spirits, and such a change of subject would have been unseemly. “I would offer you a copy of another,” he went on, “But I am sad to say they’re gone. Lost in a fire.”

She waved her hand as if chasing away the offer. “It’s all right, it’s quite all right. Please, don’t trouble yourself. It’s nice to meet you as Tobe’s Sakai’s grandson all the same.” Silent for but a moment, she soon twisted her fingers together in thought. “Did he ever handle cases involving magic?” “Often,” Kensuke replied, settling back into his straw. The first wave of happiness had passed, and his face had settled into something neutral and flat, his mouth a thin line. “He didn’t have any talent for magic himself, but an onmyoji would come with him to see if magic had been done.” “What about here, though, like at the manor? When there’s a witch involved?”

Closing his eyes, Kensuke’s mouth tipped into a slight smile. “Do you think there really is a witch?” “That’s what everyone says, anyway.” “Mm. Well, not a witch, but there were impossible cases where no magic seemed to be involved, and people said it was a kami or worse. They always turned out to be tricks, like that prayer bell. There’s magic, and there’s tricks, but he never saw divine acts like what you’re thinking.”

“Oh...so nothing like at the manor, then,” said Otoko, who lowered her head. “It seems like that will be difficult.” “No, it’s exactly like at the manor. It’s more tricks, you see.” “But if there is a witch - “ Kensuke sat straight and upright in his straw bed, illuminating his face well enough that Otoko could see. He had a wide and open smile and his eyes were a little too wide in apparent affability. “’That’s what everyone says’, I know. And it’s not a witch. That’s not what they say. It’s the Witch. Right? Do you believe that?” Otoko hesitated. There was something about his tone of voice that didn’t match his face. She bowed her head quickly, wringing her hands together near her waist. “I’m sorry, I meant no offense.” “Why do they want to believe that, hm? If not you, then all the other villagers I’ve spoken to this day. ‘The Witch of Doma cursed the Kato family’.” As he spoke, his voice rose, and the apparent joy in his voice increased. He had to fight to stop himself from shouting. “She wasn’t even a magician, you know that? No spells, no powers. Just a cruel woman who spent a year tearing the kingdom apart, and she’s dead. Lord Hien affirmed that himself. Surely they don’t miss her so much that they’d wish her ghost back just for the sake of hurting the Kato family. Surely you don’t. Do you?” Otoko flinched backwards at the accusation, and the cheerfulness was gone from her eyes at once. Kensuke watched them for a moment; if they were filled with malice, or resentment, perhaps he would have to look into her further. Telling expressions weren’t evidence enough for him, but they at least gave avenues of inquiry.

All he received was a downcast head, and, from what he could see, the beginnings of tears. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should go check to see if anything else is needed.” She gave Kensuke a quick bow, and pulled away from the tool shed.

With a broad grin, Kensuke cursed to himself and fell back into the straw. That would cause problems later, he was sure. Try as he might to work around it, he feared the villagers couldn’t or wouldn’t see past the specter of the Witch.

[corvusspecialartist]

The Raven's Eye

Yandere Corvus Corax x Remeberancer Reader

Chapters 1

You were a proud remembrancer, you took so much pride within your craft. Although you were chosen from the best, you always had a small bit of bad habit. You sat and recalled a memory from your last boss that you had.

"What is wrong with YOU? You painted that?!" The primarch stood tall over you, anger radiated... from him like the rays from your home planet's sun. His body language was angry, like a cat pacing and ready to pounce. At that moment, you had painted Lion El Johnson in a normal painting showing the fight with Leman Russ. Remembrancers were supposed to keep their opinions about their primarchs to themselves. After all, Konrad's remembrancer's position is always still open.

The painting was an abstract piece, you had tried something different on the behest of another remembrancer. You turned to the Lord of the First and nodded with a grin. 'Why of course my lord I just painted what was on my mind" It was the closest you have come to death as a fast moved out faster than you can see and grabbed you by the neck. Struggling and gasping for breath.. "You dare put that in my presence... you can always just work for another" He applied a bit of pressure. Your mind was struggling and the mentioning of working for the dreaded Haunter made your heart beat faster and faster.. You tried to give gasps for air and made gasping noises... Until you were dropped and coughed. He bent beside you and chuckled. "If you wanted to change primarchs then why didn't you just ask" He gave a crooked smile while turning away. "Pack your bags... I am sick of your parasitic presence on my ship. Thank your stars that you are at least useful."

You shuddered at the memory. After all, reassignment was the hardest bit, after all no one really knows where they would go to next. You had packed up your artists bits and the other remembrancers came by and said their "goodbyes". You had at least the sense to know that they were eyeing your open rank. Still you let up a silent prayer despite the illegality of it. You prayed that you weren't going to the Eighth. Now you were in a modest, yet discreet craft meant for transporting Adminstraum members. You sat in the bunk and continued to paint. You weren't going to give up the new thing. Adjusting the easel, a self portrait often passed the time. It was an abstract thing with heavy themes of darkness, after all. You had always been afraid of things that went bump in the night. Still you were always an optimistic person and maybe a new scenery. You put down your tool and decided to rest, if you were going to die well at least you would go out with dignity.

In your dream, you dreamed of your home and parents.. and our home.. You savored those memories.. You talked to others. Transitioning into a ballroom party that your father had to celebrate planets joining with the Imperium, something was odd. A tall pale man came by pushing through the crowed. He was rather tall for a human and dressed in a black and purple. He wore a golden carrion bird mask. As he moved, the gentle music changed falling silent.

He approached you and got down on one knee and kiss your hand. "Would you care for a dance, Your Highness". It was a polite formality, but something felt wrong.. your heart beat faster.. the man had no eyes to look when looking through his mask. "No thank you, sir." You gave an abashed grin and backed away slowly.

The Man's face and form started to change reflecting the bird mask. You started to run in as the bird-man thing starting to fly while crowing... making occasional dive bombs . You felt his claws miss your back. You dare not look at the man.. the hall seemed to stretch out for longer and longer... You knew that you couldn't keep this up... you saw the hope of your salvation... an alley.. You immediately dived and ducked as the bird man passed by you. You steeled your nerves trying to keep your heart rate down so that IT would not be alerted to your location.

You covered your mouth as you heard a large thump on the distance far away... you gave a whimper as your heart was pounding. You saw him pass by. He had raptors feet with thick strong legs. His wings were something... there was some feathers falling out.. He had long black hair. You saw the man pass hearing his footsteps pass away.. You let out a sign of relief and turned next to see a bird. It was all black with a large beat and feathers that made it have a little "beard". It hopped closer and closer to making clicking noises and bopping its head. You decided to pet the raven holding it close taking deep breaths.. The man was gone. Your thoughts were running elsewhere where you didn't notice the bird changing... It grew taller and when you noticed you were staring into the eyes on a man with a pale face with long dark hair. He was holding you carefully in a bridal style His eyes were completely soulless... He gave a grin and asked the question again. 'You care for a dance your highness?" You let out a scream and rolled over hitting the ground with a loud thud, You got up and tried to run away only to be blocked by a wall of cawing black with viscous beaks.. You turned and ran before bumping into the man. He bent down getting closer and closer as you yelled before.

You woke up.

You took a breath and looked around you... you even pinched your self. You were in reality... and alive. Your sighed and grabbed your sketchbook immediately... Often you drew your dreams, and this was no exception. A feeling of doom that you felt during the dream lifted as you sketch your stalker in the dreams. When you had finished... the man looked like the Haunter but different, a tad bit softer perhaps. Still that nagging feeling still was there, you were always going to be watching you knew this, but it was like someone was just there following you and all of your intimate moments.

Still as you were getting ready, your stomach lurched.. it was a sign that was universally recognized as entering real space. A private vox system had told you that the craft had been hours in reaching the destination. Your thoughts often ranged from "I am going to die to Might as well make the best out of bad situation" After all, if you were going to die then you were at least going to look your best. You went and got out your nicest gown and put on the best makeup.

Leaving the cabin, you went to the captain's quarters approaching the door. You gave a deep sigh and knocked on the door. The captain was a short porty woman. She gave a grin and turned her face towards you. "So Remeberancer Anon! You are awake, and finally come" She turned her back to you and sighed. "We are nearly there now..." You were sweating bullet and thoughts "When is she going to tell me where we are?" The captain as if sensing your ire or distress turned and said. "We are within the docking process for the moon Deliverance."

Deliverance.... not Nostromo

You could have almost kissed the captain. the day was looking up. You saw new life... you were not going to be suffering a long and gruesome execution. Yet in the coming years and later... you would come to realize.

"Maybe you should have gone to Nostromo."

After the meeting with the captain, and with the feeling of new life on your mind. Immediately you went back to your quarters and packed up your belongings. Even though the serfs would handle most of the movement of the gear, you did not really like people messing with your art supplies. You sighed...recalling the brief close up of the moon. The dark side was full of light despite the empty surface, mining most likely. However, other side of the moon, that was intriguing. There stood a tall black tower, there were also other buildings around it. You sat down on the bed and decided to give a quick sketch of the tower. After all, it was your first things you have seen on the moon. After some time, you felt the ship lurch forward suddenly. Getting up, you went back to accompany the captain. Looking out you noticed that you were underground with lumens that flickered occasionally. The captain approached you giving a gentle bow. "Sorry, Remembrancer but this is standard protocol, we have to get checked in." You gave a pacifying nod trying to not to let the terror show in your face. At least back with the other boss, you could at least make out what was some resemblance of "up" but here... one wrong move, could lead to your doom. You felt your heart pounding, so you decided to thumb through your sketches in order to pass the time while the captain rushed around trying to get the clearance codes and accesses. Despite having prior knowledge of your arrival, there was always some menial that HAD to be on some power trip.. continuing to thumb through the sketches calming down. That was until you reached called Haunter (?). The one drawn after that horrible nightmare... you looked at it with clearer detail. You felt your heart start to race again... no this cannot be right.. you took deep breaths. What was your subconscious trying to tell you about this man? Putting those thoughts on the back burner and noticing the captain cursing out someone on a vox com link. Soon you would get out of this underground hell...the captain came over to you and gave a grin showing slightly yellowed teeth. "Good news Remembrancer! We have been expedited and soon we will reach the RavenSpire Quickly!" You raised an eyebrow... "The RavenSpire?" The captain nodded calling over a servitor that spoke in a robotic voice.

The servitor showed a holo-vid of the primarch. You stifled a gasp and shook your head.. no.. it couldn't be. The captain waved its hand in front of the Servitor in order to shut it off. AS she did so the ship surged forward, and landed with a flourish. The captain gave a chuckle. "That's our cue rememberancer." You gave a jaded nod.. while looking at your sketchbook at the portrait of Haunter (?). Erasing the title you wrote with a shaky hand, yet in pretty calligraphy. 'Corvus Corax' Getting up and walking with the captain and approaching the shuttle door.. the door opened with quiet ease and inward marched two Space Marines... They dawned black armor and on their right showed their Legion insignia... it was a white bird that was painted on them. The marines matched in and said with a accented High Gothic "The delays had been for too long. Lord Corax demands to see them" the Marine pointed a power glove towards you. "Come with us." "Do not worry" The other said, "Your luggage will be transported to your quarters during your meeting with Lord Corax" You held your sketchbook close to your chest and gave a long lingering glance to the captain.

You followed the Marines.. you were curious about everything and taking in the surroundings. The Ravenspire...the Marines marched through a large feasting hall decorated with trophies and skulls. There were scattered groups of Marines taking breakfast. You made a mental note and decided to sketch that part of the Raven Spire. You were secretly relieved that you had decided to dress very well. After all, first impressions of primarchs are make or break. Mostly break. Though, you wondered... why Corax and not the others? Still, at least it wasn't the Phoenician. In the start of your career, you remember getting a scathing review about your art that bordered on unnecessary. You were fuming, but your training had made you keep it to yourself. You shook out the memory as the Marines marched you to a large elevator. they stepped in first and indicated you follow. You stepped in, as one of the marines pressed a button and spoke clearance words. The elevator started to move upwards with smoothness. Eventually, the elevator paused after a long awkward silence. The Marine gave a gesture. 'Welcome to the Eirye.' They stepped out and you followed. You blinked trying to adjust your eyes to the darkness... You clutched the sketchbook close to your chest saying an olden chant that you said in your home language... to steel your heart. You certainly didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of the primarch. Stepping forward, you nearly bumped into a giant man. So this was him. He was much larger than the marines that accompanied you. His face was framed with long sable hair that fell to his shoulders,his face looked chiseled from marble set with obsidian eyes for frames. Yet on closer inspection, there was no whites in his eyes. His face was sharp and wired with a small line, indicating a frown. He was dressed in a modest black tunic with embroidered white edges. Tall and wiry which was an oddity unlike, like most primarchs, you knew that he had power behind every movement. Around his neck, was a simple cord with a skull? It was birdlike, and yellowed with age. You took a small step back, as the giant man bent down at the waist. "So you are Rememberancer Y/N correct?" His face didn't change. You nodded and gave a shaky grin. "Yes My lord." He gave a approving nod and turned and walked into his studio. Taking this a cue, you followed him into a study. It was huge, your eyes could barely take in everything. It was a curricular room in thick stone. Around the edges of the room were many book shelves that were stuffed with parchment. Interspersed between each book shelf was a large door, you were curious about where each door went.

Corax walked to a desk where stacks of paper work were placed haphazardly. He sat down and indicted a spot in front of him. "Pardon the mess." He was already behind schedule, and unfortunately this meeting would have to be short. He saw the Remembrancer and bent down at the waist to inspect them better. To be honest, he was relieved that he was able to acquire this precious Remembrancer. He shook his head at that. No, they were just the standard. He internally had went through their artwork, and found something that was refreshing truly compared to the others. Honesty. He saw their recent work, that had gotten them removed from the Lion's presence. Corax, personally, had always respected the Lion. He always had been loyal to their father, but still he was rather touchy on his ego. A lot of his brothers were including himself... he admitted with a sigh. He turned back to the Remembrancer. They were sweating buckets, he honestly wanted to try to calm them down and assure them that they would be alright, and that they were in no danger. However, a different part of his brain whispered. "They're here for mocking a primarch, plus you can use this to your advantage to keep her in line..." He dismissed that thought with a careless flick of his hand. He turned back to the Remembrancer "I am keen that you bought your sketchbook with you. Do you mind handing it over?"

You heard the hidden undertone. You sheepishly handed over the sketchbook over with a nervous hand. You gave a grin trying to ease your racing mind, watching as Lord Corax flipped through the book methodically, yet he stopped on a page and his mostly neutral expression changed in a blink to a small frown. You started to feel a tad bit nervous...what if he didn't like any of it? You had gotten so far now, and he to denounce or even worse... send you to HIM. You gave a tiny shudder. Your training was going to waste here... you mentally chastised yourself. Why were you acting in this manner?! You were so out of it.. you didn't notice that the primarch had placed the sketchbook on the table. Corax gave you a gentle look. "Remembrancer Y/N?.. You are free to go. Commanders Andolus and Kuis will escort you to your quarters. " At those words, it seemed to break your spell. You grabbed your book and took a look around... maybe you would sketch this later. The primarch remained at the desk still working on paper, you knew that he was watching you more intently than you would have liked.. But it was no matter.. At least you live for another day.

Corax as soon as he heard the elevator leave his private chambers. He sighed taking a momentary pause. He called up the recent sketch of himself... it was oddly perfect. But why. But something really set him off... the original title of the piece. He was not and will never be like his brother. His frown deepened a little bit as he felt a tad bit of shame, as he watched the newest remembencer go. Why? Emotions and convoluted feeling always ended up in disaster, specifically with someone of his magnitude and rank. After all he had read so many stories of slave masters use their power to abuse others to get their way. He felt something boil up before taking a deep breath. Not here. Not now. There was endless work he needed to do so that his legion missions can be completed with efficiency.

In the meantime, you alongside with your Marine escorts had arrived in your room. It was very much lavish in comparison to the recent places you had been staying in but very utilitarian. In the room had a large bed, alongside with a dark covered nightstand. Across the room was a window that had long black drapes. Not like you would ever be closing those curtains anyway. You stepped into the room after bowing to the guard. Entering the room, you noticed to your right a second door, stepping foot was a washroom, with a shower. You were shocked. Very few people were allocated such a function and you felt rather honored in that regard. The room was black as per standard with a sink, toilet and shower. Still, as you heard them trudge away.. you took the sketchbook that you had and walked over to the bed.. Tomorrow was going to be your first day and well, you needed sleep at the very least. You prepared for bed, trying to adjust to planetary jet lag You climbed into the bed and before you knew it. You were asleep.

[serenedash]

I'm sure a lot of people have. Feelings. to put it lightly, about Xehanort's role in khuxdr. I absolutely do and there's just this thing that really bugs me about it that just rubs me the wrong way. This is gonna get a little long winded before I make my point-- but call this a Xehanort character analysis

So to ignore khuxdr completely for a moment, here we have Xehanort: the main antagonist, a man who has seemingly worked out every possible scenario and prepared for each and every one because just when you think you've defeated him he comes back like a hydra (idk insert a coliseum joke here but it's very literal with the way he uses other people). And one thing I've always loved about kh as a series is that there's this constant message of "you don't need to be special, you can just be you" because there's Sora-- who's not "the chosen one" and he knows that, he says it, and says he's proud to be apart of the people the keyblade did choose. This nobody kid who for all intents and purposes should've just been the side comic relief character and he's THE hero. And there's Xehanort, the big bad he's fighting who seems to be so all powerful that Sora is nothing against him. But kh does this interesting thing where we learn Xehanort is from Destiny Islands, he's just like Sora, Riku and Kairi. He was just a kid wanting more out of life and got more than what he bargained for.

I really enjoyed dark road giving us more insight into his past and motivations and how that shaped him because I think all of that and especially the final face off with Baldr and meeting MoM, 100% was the turning point for who he became. And I think that's really interesting that this kid form an island became so much more. And I enjoyed the kh3 secret reports greatly when we got to see writings by a younger Xehanort comparing himself to Eraqus and it really hammers in that Xehanort, like Sora, was just some kid thrown into this world that was far larger than he expected. And I think there's a lot of great parallels between Sora/Xehanort and Riku/Eraqus, which is interesting given that I feel like initially these parallels are set up to compare Riku to Xehanort when that really isn't the case at all!!! And kh3 definitely hammers it in more when Xehanort passes the x-blade to Sora; there was a lot of great discussion of that moment when the game released and the comparisons between the two.

But. then we get to khux. And don't get me wrong, I love khux I LOVE khux and I also actually really don't like Xehanort. But he's a really interesting and well written character. And it felt like there was all this development for Xehanort that happened and with the end of kh3 you really just, come to terms with it all I guess? and I think we can all agree that extra scene at the end of khux with baby Xehanort felt like a real slap to the face. It just felt really odd to turn around and say Xehanort isn't actually from Destiny Islands; I mean he basically is literally being raised there almost from birth but he's really not ESPECIALLY when it's added that he's a descendant of Ephemera. It was an odd choice, it really was. And it feels weird to know that and then see the kh3 secret reports where Xehanort shares feeling inferior to Eraqus due to Eraqus being a "blue blood." Like you are too???? And it's like I wish I could say Xehanort just didn't know that but we literally see Player 2 telling him this. Xehanort knows, has known, and he's smart so there's no way he got to Scala and heard all about this amazing Master Ephemera and didn't have all these realizations. Of course, I don't think Xehanort told anyone about his connection to Ephemera, but he knew. and We know. and it just kind of takes the wind out of my sails I think that this interesting character was set up and the context of his actions feels changed by the circumstances of his birth/childhood. Like I don't think he needed to be from Scala, to be related to Ephemera. I really don't think that had to be added in order to explain why he was obsessed with the keyblade war. Like Sora, Riku and Kairi knew nothing about any of that but they still wanted to go out into the world. Why does Xehanort need that justification for leaving?

Like. it's fine I guess and it all still makes sense and it's still interesting to see these characters tied together like this, but it was already set up so perfectly I think in relation to Sora and it feels so much lesser now and it's kind of like. oh okay this is what's happening now. But hey, at least khdr made me actually like xehanort a little lmao

[do-not-fearr]

Second Date - Eevrid the Drider

For all the people that wanted some more Eevrid. Not nsfw this time, just some pining, longing touches and Eevrid being cute.

Pairing: Drider x Reader

Wordcount: 1031

Tags: SFW short

Summary: You're on a second date with Eevrid, and you find a nice dark spot in a cosy cafe where you hope you have some privacy. You don't.

Eevrid and you had kept in contact. After meeting at his place and the things that happened there your relationship had progressed over the months you were together. You were proud to call yourself his' and vice versa, but you hadn't really taken your relationship... to the public yet.

Today was going to change that, as you looked in the mirror one last time  before deeming yourself sufficiently dressed up for your café date. Onward to his house where you found him dressed and ready. At least on the outside.

It was obvious he was nervous, and when he quickly mentioned: "We can also just stay indoors today. I have some fun ideas on how to spend the day..." with enough of a teasing lilt in his voice to cause a dull throb in your core, but also a little voice crack that betrayed his true feelings, you smiled widely at him. Hand reaching out to his as he squeezed your hand lovingly in return. 

"Don't worry, Eevrid. I'm here with you, remember?"

He had chosen the café, since he'd been there before and they were open and accepting to supernatural patrons, but it seemed it did not take away his unease. That's why you would stick close to him, if anyone had anything bad to say they'd had to go through you first. And you weren't ready to let anything go that could potentially hurt Eevrid. Sure, his many legs still looked a bit scary to you sometimes, but your love for him and what he could do with said many legs had taken away your crippling fear. Spiders were harmless to you now that you had Eevrid, and occasionally you'd even think they were cute.

Your chest puffed as both of you stepped outside, proud and excited to be with him in public, making your way over to the cosy little café. The further out you went the more gazes were sent Eevrid's way, ranging from confused to fearful, but you squeezed his hand tightly and guided him carefully to the café that thankfully wasn't that far. 

He had helped you over your fear, and you would do anything within your power to help him with his.

-

The vibes in the small coffeeshop were impeccable, fairy lights hanging on the walls and a mellow song was playing in the background as out of the waiters of many races a normal human approached you. She smiled, completely nonplussed by Eevrid's appearance as she guided you to your table, making sure it was a spot where the Drider could sit comfortably too. 

"This place is amazing," you said, eyes wandering around to take in the space. "I love it so far."

He hummed noncommittedly, and as you looked back you saw that while you had been taking in the sights he had been taking in you. The smile on his face so gentle and there was so much love in his eyes you instantly blushed, looking away as you chuckled. It felt like this was your first date again; except all fear had been replaced by giddiness and love for your partner. Your knee touched one of his rough legs and you ran your foot up it before someone appeared at your table, making you pull away instantly. It was the human, who smiled a little more knowing than you would've liked.

She took your order, and your eyes were on Eevrid again, whose expression hasn't changed. Had he been staring at you all this time? The blush on your face deepened and you reached over to grab his hand. "Stop staring at me," you whispered, a giggle in your voice and your eyes downcast at where he was squeezing your hand. 

"I can't help it," he whispered back, pulling your hand up to his strange lips and giving a little kiss to he back of your trembling hand. The texture of his slightly insectoid lower face always made you feel certain things, at first it was the thrill of it being so different, but now it reminds you of spicier times with him and what that texture did to you under different circumstances. There is no time to ponder your current feelings though, because your drinks were being brought over, and you once again pulled away from him a little, almost missing his little frown. 

The cafe was amazing, so were the drinks and the cakes that were brought out for you, but there was one thing that you wish was different; the waitress, as sweet and helpful as she was... kept arriving in the middle of you and Eevrid making eyes at each other. Almost as if she couldn't help interrupting your romantic date. Every time you both were touching she was suddenly there, and every time you pulled away quicker than the last, the frown on Eevrid's face deepening with every instance. Until suddenly it came to a head when Eevrid quietly asked: "Do you... not want her to see you're with me?"

Everything fell quiet in your brain and you looked at him with an open mouth, confused, until it dawned on you what you've been doing. But that was wrong. You were so proud to have him with you you could scream it from the rooftops. It was just...

A blush was on your face as you looked away, but before he could take it as an admission of guilt you stood up and walked over to him, moving between his many legs as you grabbed his face and pulled him closer for a kiss. Ignoring the waitress' eyes as you kissed him deeply. "I am shy, silly," is all you said between a blush and another kiss when you saw him smile. "The waitress is just too nosy. I am incredibly lucky and proud to have you at my side, and I want the world to know. Maybe not the PDA yet, though." 

He chuckled at this and put a stray strand of hair behind your ears before standing up to pay the bill. 

"Well, how about we go somewhere more private then?" he murmured as he pulled you closer slyly. Your enthusiastic nod was all he needed to drag you out back home.