#i mean there's not even a body left to revive him with

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny: I'm sorry my dog ate your dad 🥺

Talia: *visably disturbed*

Cujo: *tail wagging hard enough to create hurricane force winds behind him as he waits to be called a good boy*

[littlest-w01f]

Best Medication

Rhysand x Reader

RHYSAND MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Rhysand is sick after accidentally scenting a mineral in one of the caves of the Illyrian mountains, he desperately needs Reader's help

CW: Sick Rhys, aphrodisiac, breeding kink, spanking, knoting, FxM, Smut 18+ MDNI

You didn't understand what was wrong with Rhysand, it had been almost half an hour that Azriel had come for you, begging you to check up on Rhysand, and since Madja was busy with another patient and couldn't come to him you packed your supplies.

"Ugh... I'm going to die aren't I?" Rhysand groaned as you set a cold wet cloth on his feverous forehead, slowly changing the cloth over his chest and stomach.

"No, you're not." You frown, dipping the cloth in cold water to cool it down before you keep it back on his chest, "Cassian and Azriel are with the priestesses, trying to find more about the mineral you accidentally scented, I can't see anything from my powers... They show nothing wrong with you."

As Rhysand lets out another groan, his body covered in sweat, you decide to try your magic on him again, the glow of your healing slipped into him as you held his wrist, eyes going bright, "I don't get it..." You frown, moving your hand away, returning to normal, "You're... Freakisly healthy."

You felt helpless as your High Lord shivered in bed, you moved to sit beside him, "We just have to wait for-"

"y/n~" You freeze when Rhysand purrs your name, that sound of his voice. "y/n..."

You turn to face him, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets at the scent of his arousal that fills the room, his violet eyes dark in lust. Rhysand gripped your skirts, eyes almost pleading, "I need you..." He breathed.

"Rhys," you stuttered, feeling your cheeks heat up under his intense gaze. "What... What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the confusion swirling inside you.

"y/n," he murmured, his breath hitching slightly as he spoke your name. "I've wanted you for so long." His words were barely more than a whisper, but they carried an intensity that left no room for misinterpretation.

"Rhys, we shouldn't..." You breathe softly, knowing what he wanted, a part of you wanted it too, "You're sick"

"That may be true," He panted, a faint smile playing on his lips, a smile lopsided from his fatigue. "But I crave your touch like I've never craved anything before." His hand moved from your skirt to the small of your back, pulling you closer until there was not even an inch between you. His body was warm against yours, radiating an energy that seemed to reach out and grab onto every inch of you. "You're wrong if you think I'm helpless," he said softly, his voice dropping down to a near growl. "We can find a way around my illness."

His thumb brushes over your lips, silencing whatever protest was forming there. "And if it's the morality of it you're worried about, remember who you're talking to." He smirked, motioning to himself.

"If you're sure..." You sigh, almost shivering under his gaze, your own arousal flowing, you nod.

His smirk widened at your concession, his grip tightening on your waist as he pulled you flush against him. The sensation of your curves pressing into his tense form sent a shiver through his weakened body, reviving him in ways he hadn't thought possible.

"You're killing me here, my pretty medic," he groaned, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. As his tongue explored your mouth, one hand moved down to cup your ass, squeezing the curves firmly while his other hand reached up to caress your cheek gently.

The room spins for him as he flips you onto your back, his strength surprising considering his earlier weakness. Your heart pounds in your chest as he roughly rips at your medical attire, tearing away the fabric to expose your skin beneath.

With a wicked grin, he trails hot kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin until you arch off the bed, a low moan escaping your lips. His hand moves down your body, tracing over your curves until he reaches the hem of your lingerie, slipping his fingers underneath to tease at your slit. He chuckles against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. "So wet already," he murmurs, his fingers dipping lower to circle your clit.

"Please," you whimper, your hips bucking against his hand in sudden desperation. "Rhys, please..."

His fingers continue their torturous circling, teasing your clit until you're writhing beneath him, desperate for more. But he doesn't give it to you right away, instead choosing to prolong your torment, his other hand moving up to pinch one of your nipples, rolling the hard peak between his fingers.

"You want more, love?" he coos, his hand slipping further down to plunge three of his fingers inside your soaked cunt, his mouth capturing your free breasts.

His fingers slide deeper into your soaking cunt, his palm rubbing against your clit as he starts to pump in and out of you. You gasp at the intrusion, your back arching off the bed as pleasure courses through your veins. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his other hand pinching and twisting your nipple. "Take my fingers like a good girl."

Your heart was beating wildly, pressed under Rhysand, whimpering softly, with a guttural groan, he withdraws his fingers from your dripping cunt, only to replace them with his throbbing cock. The head teases your entrance for a moment before he thrusts in, burying himself to the hilt within your tight walls. "Ahh, fuck," he grunts, his body shuddering at the feel of you wrapped around him. "So fucking tight." He begins to move, withdrawing slowly before thrusting back in, setting a punishing pace that has you screaming his name mere moments later.

With a grunt of effort, he flips you onto all fours, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he positions himself behind you. He gives your ass a firm slap, sending a jolt of pain through your sensitive skin. "Mine," he growls, thrusting into you from behind, his cock pounding into your wetness. "Every fucking inch of you is mine." His hands roam freely over your body now, grabbing and squeezing your curves while he takes you hard and fast, his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust, landing another hand on your ass as he dove deeper into you, his body felt better with each thrust into you, his fever slipping away.

"Yours," you moan, eyes rolling back in pleasure as he holds you by your hair, shuddering from his spanks.

His grip tightens in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his teeth grazing against your skin. "Scream for me, y/n." His thrusts become harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. He can feel his climax building, the pressure coiling in his lower abdomen as he reaches down to rub at your swollen clit. "Come for me, y/n," he commanded, his voice full of his High Lord's power. "I want to feel you tighten around my cock."

The moment he commands it, you explode, mind blank, filled with an urge to follow his given order, your entire body convulsing as you scream his name. Your walls clamp down on his cock your entire body trembling as you scream out his name. "That's it," he groans, feeling your cunt flutter around his cock. "Such a good girl."

His thrusts become rougher, more primal as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his balls slapping against your clit with each powerful thrust, the bed creaking loudly. He groans loudly, his body tensing as he feels his release approaching. "Fuck... I'm going to fill you up, y/n," he pants, his voice raw, wings flaring out, fluttering with his thrusts, making him go harder. "Going to breed your pretty cunt so fucking hard."

"Rhys..." You gasp, eyes slightly wide feeling his cock nudge at your cervix, the bed nearly being pulled off its hinges, his words sent a shiver down your back, you're slightly thankful you had decided to keep taking contraceptive tea even if you weren't looking for sleeping around, not wanting to take chances. You push your hips back against his, moaning softly.

You can feel his knot swelling at the base of his shaft, promising a much more thorough breeding than either of you had expected. "Wait... What's that-" you whine, eyes wide, feeling the stretch, eyes rolling back, for the moment not caring for reasoning.

"Ah, fuck... I'm close," he groans, his grip on your hips tightening, fings turning into claws, scratching at you. "Can't hold back anymore." And then he came, his hot seed spilling deep inside your womb. His roar of pleasure fills the room as he rides out his orgasm, his knot locking you two together as he paints your insides with his cum.

For what seems like hours, time blurring together in a haze of lust and pleasure you continue, losing count of the orgasms you both had. Lost in the pleasure, you let instinct guide you, you collapse onto the bed, panting heavily, Rhysand rutting like an animal into you until you're too exhausted to continue. your bodies glistening with sweat.

"Mmm..." Rhysand pulled out softly, making you whine from being stretched too much by his knots, "I feel so much better now," he smirked, watching you sprawled on his bed, covered in both your fluids.

You pass out by the time he brings a clean washcloth to wipe away the cum from your body, snapping his fingers to replace the ruined sheets under you with clean ones.

"Y/N IT'S AN APHRODISIAC HE'S GOING TO GET REALLY HORNY BUT THEN BE OK, WE JUST NEED TO-" Cassian bursts through the room, eyes going from you passed out in Rhysand's bed to him pulling his pants up.

"'Let him ride it out'?" He smirked slyly, finishing what Cassian was thinking, "Oh, don't worry, y/n already did."

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

[s-4pphics]

A/N: me vs writing what i’m supposed to aka moth aka vampire possession aka anyway here’s post santa barbara angst don’t ask questions im not really sure LOL

“You’re back.” 

Determined hands freeze in the dirt, the freshly watered daisies glistening under the beaming sun rays. Your soiled fingers halt all movement at the soft acknowledgment from behind. A sigh leaves your lips. 

“… I am.” 

An exhausted one, and it’s not from your strenuous labor in the garden. Your body refuses to turn, but holes burn in your spine, leaving behind lasered streaks of green. 

“Can you look at me?” Ellie pleads gently. The softest you’ve heard her be in months. 

What she doesn’t know is that you’ve been back. For a week actually, hiding out in other people’s homes throughout Jackson, assisting in places where Ellie’s least likely to go. The garden in particular; Pollen makes her sneeze. 

Time is vital and interesting; Dina left her and Ellie’s farmhouse with her son when you fled Jackson. She sought you out, but you weren’t there. You spent most of your time alone, walking, running, killing what you had to. Searched for peace, internal and external. The sight of the waterfall was worth the months-long trip. Your home is different now. Eerily quiet. The kids you helped teached to read don't play outside or laugh as often anymore. You hardly see Tommy or Maria around. Jesse is dead. Joel is dead. Dina isolates with JJ. Hugs him like she’ll die if she lets go. 

Ellie’s forever changed. The town’s forever changed, and you’ve finally accepted that it’s for the worse. 

“Is listening not enough?” 

Cordiality is beyond you. Spite is evident. Even the flowers can feel it. 

You tried to be patient, to coddle, to mourn and aid and tend. Sacrifice your own wellbeing for the sake of hers. You tried, Dina tried, Tommy didn’t but he did at the same time. Oddly, destructively, but in his own way. You blame him and don’t. Hate him and don’t. He’s violently and permanently scorned, but so are you. So is Ellie. She says nothing from behind you. You rise with a pop in your knees and an upturned lip. 

When you face Ellie, your knees wobble. Scarred: emotionally, physically, mentally. Permanently. Her eyes are more breakable than glass, the shattered hand that displays defeat hid shamefully behind her back. But her cheeks are fuller, no longer the hollow vacancies they were before she left. Maria was always on her back about finishing her meals. 

Grief is complicated. Hurt. Anger. The flowers wilt. Listening isn’t enough, and neither is sacrifice.

Ellie’s nose always twitches when she thinks. Your heart gives a sporadic pulse, but not enough to revive the shell you're trapped in. 

“I don’t want an apology from you.” 

She shakes her head, “I know.” 

“Then why are we talking?” 

Another twitch of her nose. She searches for something. “I—“

But then she flinches away from you, a bent arm coming up to cover her nose and mouth when she sneezes. A painful jerk thrums through your chest, but still not enough. 

“Bless you.” 

One more sneeze, but softer. A bit squeaky. Remnant of when you first met her at 13 and she followed you out to the greenhouse to watch you water the orange trees. 

“Thanks.” 

You nod stiffly. When she doesn’t say anything, you move to leave. Your work is done and she knows you’re back; There’s no point in being alone with her. 

Ellie doesn’t follow, but she does speak. 

“I’m trying.” 

You pause, one foot in front of the other. A doe learning how to walk for the first time. 

“I’m trying to be normal. I’m trying to be okay but it’s not working.” Her voice trembles.

You weren’t expecting a confession. Normal. An interesting use of the word. No one feels that anymore. 

“It probably won’t for a long time.” You state, just as quietly as she, “But if you stop trying, you’ll rot from the inside. If that’s what you want, then fine. But if not… That's all you can do now.” 

“Will we ever be okay?” 

‘We’ means many. ‘We’ means two. Your back’s to Ellie, but you can see her. Unmoving, but frantic. Her mind cranks at a million miles a minute. You feel her eyes on you. Too familiar. 

You’re not sure how to answer, so you don’t. You take one last look at her before you walk away. 

Flowers never look the same the next day. 

[leilakisakabiri]

Can I request something with Gavi being barely even home resulting to reader feeling lonely and empty? A fluffy ending please! Gracias a todos!

You're Losing Me (Gavi)

Summary: You and Gavi's relationship is slowly falling apart - and neither of you know how to save it.

Warnings: Angst. Toxic behavior. 

A/N: This request literally revived me so thank you. I’m so excited to write angst hopefully you like it! Also thank you guys for 1k notes on Surprise, here’s my gift to you. Please send requests!

Word count: 6.8k+

Masterlist

It was the fourth Tuesday in a row that you ate alone in your apartment. The fourth time Gavi had skipped out on your plans last minute, sending a quick half-hearted text about one event or the other.

The first time it was because Coach had asked Gavi to stay after practice, keen on teaching him the perfect one-touch shot. Then it was a missed dinner because Jordi Alba had invited him out with some other players, and he just couldn’t say no, because he was finally starting to feel like a part of the family - like the older players had finally started to respect him.

Of course you hadn’t minded the first few times, he had been apologetic enough, promising you that he would be there next time, but each next time took on the next week, and soon the prospect of next time didn’t hold as much meaning anymore. You were accustomed to reading those words by now, and you rarely took time to read over the dwindling text messages anymore, eyes only scanning for those two words, the ones that had become a staple in your relationship.

Next time.

Next time you would cook dinner for him and he would be there to eat it. Next time he would tell you he loved you in person, rather than getting an impassive ‘sorry cariño’. The thought of next time, which once seemed like a lifeline to you, had become a dull reminder of the boy who was just on the other side of the city, only a measly train ride separating you both. Yet the distance seemed much greater.

But now the football season was drawing to a close, and instead of being excited at the notion of having more time to spend together, you felt uneasy and on edge, almost as if you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, something to come up, making the distance between the two of you that much more tangible.  

You felt your phone buzz next to you and your eyes unintentionally went to the clock.

9:45 pm.

The texts were getting later and later each time.

You already knew what awaited you, but you couldn’t help but scan the message regardless.

“Can’t come tonight, only have a few days till the season ends and the guys wanna make the most of it. Be there next time. Noche.”

There it was again, that unexplainable feeling in your chest, like your heart was always one step ahead of your brain, preparing for the loss of something that hadn’t yet left. Your mind was an incomprehensible mess, a jumble of contrasting thoughts and memories, forcing you to overthink situations and undervalue your emotions.  

You lifted your head watching your roommate land with a thump on the couch beside you, “He canceled again, didn’t he?”

You opened your mouth, an excuse on the tip of your tongue.

She held up her hand, “Don’t try to defend him. He knows it isn’t fair.”

You avoided her gaze, “You don’t get it. He’s really in demand and-”

“It doesn’t matter that he’s famous or a professional athlete, that doesn’t discredit his actions, or put the blame on anyone but him.”

She continued, “Look Gavi’s a good guy, I like him,” you stared at her, “I do! But he’s stupid if he doesn’t realize that he’s losing you. I know you, and while you might make excuses for him now, I know that sooner or later you’re going to notice that he hasn’t been treating you like you deserve, and you’ll be smart enough to leave.”

You felt the impact of her words full force, like a sledgehammer beating into your body. All the signs were there, right in front of your face, and you had been turning a blind eye, not wanting to admit what your heart already knew.

You knew it. The distance you had felt hadn’t been in vain – every day you could feel the connection between the two of you chip away, so small, you wouldn’t think to notice it till you stood back and looked at the bigger picture.

As a result of both your busy schedules, you both had come up with the idea of having Tuesday night, the most boring day of the week as agreed on, reserved for just the two of you. On Tuesday you didn’t have classes that ran well past dinner time or have to pick up late-night shifts at the restaurant, and he didn’t have evening practice. It was perfect. Tuesday was yours.

Except it had been four weeks since you’d had a proper conversation with Gavi, and you couldn’t help but see the difference in your relationship when you first got together, both eager and determined to spend as much time together as possible, to now, where even if you attended his games, you two still managed to get away without speaking.

You shook your head, “I-I need to take a walk.”

She reached over placing a hand on your shoulder, “Y/n. I’m sorry-”

You shook it off, standing up, “No it’s ok, it’s not your fault. I just need to clear my head.”

You felt the cool night breeze hit you as you walked the streets of Barcelona. It was unusually quiet in this part of town, the lights from the main strip didn’t reach this far out, and for a moment the quiet reminded you of your hometown.

If you closed your eyes, it was almost like you were fifteen again, back in your childhood bedroom, before the ideas of pretty boys with big brown eyes and the weight of managing both university and a job plagued all your thoughts.

You reached a lookout point, the top of the hill dropping to show you the expansive city below. You stared out, the buildings looked so small up here, barely more than a glowing dot in the dark, the cars a blur of soft yellow. You wondered which tiny dot Gavi was in. You wondered if he had checked his phone, seeing that you hadn’t texted him back like you usually did. You wondered if he even cared.

You shook your head trying to get rid of the unwanted thoughts.

Your relationship with Gavi was good. He made you laugh like nobody else, whispering secrets in each other’s ears like schoolchildren, making forts out of old sheets in his childhood bedroom when you met his family for the first time. You remembered his sweet smile, the way his eyes would crinkle unintentionally when he couldn’t hold back his excitement or happiness. You remembered confiding in him about school, how you were so stressed because you couldn’t manage eighteen credits while simultaneously holding a job that required you to be on your feet for hours at a time. You could still feel the soft caress of his hand, as he squeezed yours, providing you comfort, cracking a badly executed joke here and there just to get you to smile while listing a hundred reasons why if anyone could do it, it would be you.

So, if he made you feel all those things, why did his absence make you feel so tiny, so insignificant?

Your finger hovered over the call button, and you hit it hesitantly.

You just wanted to hear his voice.

That would be enough.

It rang seven times before the line went dead.

It took you a moment to realize you hadn’t put your phone up to your ear, waiting with bated breath for the timer on the screen to start, indicating he had picked up, but it never did.

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket, the same unsteady feeling in your heart strumming.

Once.

Twice. 

Then it was gone.

You came home to a quiet apartment and your roommate already asleep.

You shuffled into your room silently, you would give it one more week you decided. Next time would be the last.

The next week came, and while it was the first week Gavi had off from training, he had already planned to go to Ibiza to attend a music festival with his hometown friends. He had invited you, but it was more of an afterthought, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to go because of rushed ‘you can come if you want’ and a barely there apology so you left it.

You got an ‘I’ll miss you’ text from him and for a moment it made you smile, filling you with warmth. However, an ‘I miss you’ only did so much, and other than his sweet messages, there was really no intent behind his words.

Now it had been two days since Gavi had gotten back from his Ibiza trip, and you couldn’t hide the surprise on your face when you glanced over and saw a Facetime call from Gavi.

When was the last time the two of you had Facetimed? Maybe two months ago? It was much easier to send a text, the times both of you were free were few and far between.

You answered the call, pushing your textbook to the side. The dark grey interior of Gavi’s car greeted you.

“Hello?” You asked.

“Hey, Y/n long time no talk.” Gavi joked, but you felt your stomach flip at the truth behind his words.

“I can’t see you.” You said.

“Oh shit, did I accidentally Facetime? My bad I told Siri to call and she must have Facetimed instead. Let me call you.”

You went to speak but heard the three beeps indicating the call had been cut.

You heard the phone ring again and bit back a sigh. You just wanted to see his face.

You answered on the second ring.

“Hey sorry about that. I wanted to call and tell you that I’m back from Ibiza.”

“Yeah, I know.” You admitted, “I remembered.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Well, anyways I wanted to ask you to come with me to the Spanish football gala tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

You heard some shuffling and suddenly Gavi’s voice was much clearer and closer to the phone. You assumed he took it off speaker.

“Can you not come?”

You hesitated, “Uhm I’m not sure. It’s so last minute and I’m already scheduled at the restaurant tomorrow.”

“Can’t you just take off?” He persisted.

You felt your brow furrow, “I’m already on the schedule, I can’t just decide to take off the day before, I need to find someone to replace me.”

“Ok, tell whoever that I’ll sign a jersey for them if they do.”

You suddenly felt angry. Why did he think that you could only get a day off work if he helped you out? Were you not capable of handling your own situations? You hated feeling like this, like you weren’t even your own person, just a shadow of who you were with.

“No that’s fine. I’ll just take off like you said, simple.” You couldn’t help but let the bitterness seep into your voice.

He went to say something, probably sensing the shift in your mood, but you cut him off, “I have to go. Bye Gavi.”

You hung up before he could respond.

Finding someone to replace your shift was easier said than done, but after some back and forth, and a promise to Marcus to cover his next two shifts, you were free.

Free to prance around in a hall filled with people you barely knew, with a boy who you thought about more in your memories than you saw in real life.

The night of the gala arrived, and you were decked out, wearing the earrings Gavi had gifted you for your one-year anniversary paired with a necklace you had received after graduating high school.

Gavi had originally said he would pick you up but had sent a quick text earlier in the morning explaining that the team was getting ready together at a hotel, and to just meet him at the venue.

Your roommate had agreed to drive you and you gave her a grateful smile as you got in the car.

“Ana thank you for taking me.”

She brushed the comment off playfully, “No problem. Gotta step up when Gavi steps down.”

You let out a short laugh, “My hero.”

You got to the venue a couple of minutes before you had planned to meet Gavi and nervously walked around, staying out of the path of cameras.

You found someone to take you to a tent where some Barca staff were waiting for the players to start the program.

You walked in, a surprised look taking over your face once you noticed Pedri and a few other players in the corner.

You weren’t aware that some of the players from the hotel had arrived yet.

Pedri noticed your entrance and came over to say hello.

You gave him a quick hug, making casual small talk.

Just ask him, a voice in the back of your head urged.

Finally, you bit the bullet, attempting to sound as casual as possible, “How did you guys get here so early? I thought everyone was leaving the hotel at 6.”

“Ehh, it wasn’t that important, so I skipped it. Half the guys didn’t go anyway, and the other half just went to play FIFA. Besides I beat them every time, so it gets a little boring after a while.”

You tried to laugh at his joke, but could only manage a watery smile, mind running a mile a minute.

So Gavi hadn’t actually needed to go but chose to.

Leaving you alone.

Again.

It wasn’t a big deal by itself. But it was the fact that this was just another item you could add to your ever-growing list of things Gavi cared about more than you. You wondered briefly if you had been wrong, and if he had missed some other event to be there with you, only to remind yourself that you hadn’t seen him in a month, so no, he hadn’t.

You were still grappling with your emotions when Gavi arrived, unsure whether to confront him or just let this be another thing you swept under the rug.

Your reunion, if you could even call it that, was lackluster at best. He had walked in with some of his teammates, immediately going to greet the rest of his team, completely ignoring you standing on the right side of the room with Pedri.

It was only once he asked where Pedri was that someone pointed the two of you out.

You felt your body deflate; he hadn’t even asked for you.

Were you overthinking things again? Maybe he had just forgotten in the excitement of seeing his whole team for the first time after the season ended?

Gavi made his way over to the two of you, reaching out to Pedri first. You watched as they exchanged a hug before Gavi’s eyes floated over to yours.

“Hey.” His voice was casual, like he was greeting a mailman, or thanking the cashier.

“Hi.”

You closed the space, attempting to hug him, but he grabbed your shoulders stopping you, looking down.

You followed his gaze.

“I don’t want to wrinkle the dress.”

You felt your heart thud against your chest, and while you knew he only had good intentions, the rejection still stung.

You stepped out of his embrace, watching his hands drop to his sides, “Okay.”

The carpet went by in a blur, you posed with Gavi for a few photos before moving to the side and letting him enjoy the spotlight, he had worked hard for it. You took a couple of photos with some of the other teammate's girlfriends and wives before you headed inside.

Once inside, there was still some time left before the actual dinner portion of the gala started. The gala was held for all Spanish football clubs as a celebration of their hard work during the season. It was also a great event to network, giving players the ability to talk with different coaches and directors they otherwise might not have gotten the chance to, allowing for discussions of thinly veiled preseason transfers to commence without the fear of unwanted ears listening in.

You found Gavi in the crowd quickly, linking your arm with his. He looked over at you, a smile taking over his features once he noticed you.

“Glad you found me.”

You noticed with great relief that his eyes still crinkled in the corners when he looked at you,

“I always do.”

The next however many minutes spent till dinner service started comprised of Gavi talking with various different players and directors as you stood like a shiny accessory off his arm, too insignificant to be acknowledged in conversation.

The call for dinner provided you solace from the repetitive conversations and mundane questions. You took a seat next to Gavi and were confused to find both Joao Felix and Antoine Griezmann seated at your table.

You leaned into Gavi, “I thought the clubs sat together?”

“Me too. I think they’re doing alphabetical tonight though.” He whispered.

“Which one’s your least favorite?” You looked up shocked at Gavi’s question, watching a boyish grin take over his features as he tried to hide his laugh, interlacing your fingers on your lap.

You shoved into him lightly, “They’re sitting right there!”

He leaned in closer, nose softly grazing your ear as he spoke, “Yeah but between me and you, I think Joao could have had a better season in Chelsea.”

You shook your head in disbelief, fighting back the smile that was threatening to spill out. Your eyes caught his and for a second it seemed like you had been transported back in time, back to when these types of moments were the standard not the exception, back when it felt like you were on each other sides, back when laughter was the antidote instead of tense silences filled with awkward hello’s.

His eyebrow lifted ask if to ask if you agreed with him, and a small murmur of agreement from you was all he needed before he opened his mouth, ready to hammer his point home, but his attention switched last second.

It was like you could visibly see the shift in his demeanor. First, it was his eyes glancing past yours, seeing the midfielder approaching. Then it was the subtle grip on your hand loosening, his fingers slipping through the gaps. Next, it was the complete shift in body, his posture straightening as he leaned his body away from yours, position shifting to face Pedri who had sat in the spot next to him.

To his credit, Pedri acknowledged the both of you but it was clear Gavi paid no mind to you, not evening sparing you a glance as he became immersed in a conversation with Pedri.

You tried to pretend it didn’t affect you and while you could lie to everyone else, you couldn’t lie to yourself. You had built up this evening up so much in your head, telling yourself that tonight would be the shifting point in your relationship and that everything would go back to the way it once was, but it was shaping up to be another Tuesday you had become all too familiar with.

Why did it feel like you were always competing for his attention?

Your mind was reeling, all the small actions Gavi did that you kept pushing aside, were floating back to the surface, each little remark or dismissal a little tug on your heartstrings till you were sure that if you stayed at the table a for a moment longer you wouldn’t be able to stop the onslaught of tears quickly approaching.

You stood from the table abruptly, catching a few people’s attention, but you gave them a polite smile, or at least you hoped it had been polite, you couldn’t focus on anything but the stinging in your eyes and the sinking feeling in your stomach.

You swiftly walked towards the restroom, glancing over your shoulder to see if anyone had noticed but your eyes fell on Gavi’s form. He hadn’t even bothered turning around.

Of course, he hadn’t. 

Somehow that hurt more than anything else.

You were immensely grateful for the single-use restroom as you locked yourself in, shaky hands coming to steady yourself on the sink.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

You were internally screaming at yourself, begging yourself to keep yourself together but the feeling was too overwhelming and before you could stop you felt the first tears slip down. Your shoulders shook as you forced yourself to be silent, embarrassed about someone walking by and overhearing you pitying yourself.

One hand covered your mouth as you muffled your sobs, while the other dug into the stupid marble sink until the skin was pink and indented. The pain acted as a distraction from the unbearable pressure in your chest, and you instinctively pushed your hand harder into the sink.

Your fingers felt numb as you slowly removed them, closing your eyes to steady yourself. It was obvious that you weren’t in the best mental state, but you couldn’t exactly sit in the bathroom for the next hour to sort it out. You had to clean yourself up and go back to pretending.

Yes, pretending, you realized, was exactly what you had been doing. This whole night you had been pretending, pretending everything was okay, pretending that your relationship was fine when in truth you couldn’t even remember what Gavi’s laugh sounded like.

When had it become all pretend?

Was there anything left here? Were your best years behind you both?

These unanswered questions haunted you as you calmed yourself down, wrapping around you like a blanket, one that provided you no comfort but rather a feeling of suffocation.

Finally, your eyes had dried, and the redness had faded significantly. You had gotten your breathing under control, and you felt a little lighter having stopped denying what had been plaguing your mind for weeks now.

You took one final glance in the mirror, smoothing out your dress as you exited the restroom.

You walked slowly back to the table. You had decided that if you could just get through tonight, go home, and cry and think some more, then by tomorrow morning you would be able to talk to Gavi and decide what to do.

But that plan had flown out the window when you arrived back at the table to a confused Gavi.

It seemed he had finally noticed your absence.

“Where did you go? They served dinner 15 minutes ago.”

“I had to use the restroom.”

“For 15 minutes?”

“There was a queue.” You lied.

He seemed to accept your answer and you chose to focus on your food rather than him.

You were halfway through your meal when you noticed Gavi giving you a double take from the corner of your eye.

“Your eyes are red.” He spoke in a hushed voice.

“I don’t know why.”

“Are you sure?” His attention was beginning to slip again, eyes darting back between you and Pedri.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You heard your voice waver on the last syllable, a tick you had when you were lying, and Gavi immediately picked up on it, facing you fully.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head not wanting to get into everything here.

“I’m ok.”

“You’re not.”

“Gavi.” You warned.

“What happened? Did someone say something?”

“No. Just drop it please.” Your voice had gone soft, tired of defending yourself.

“Y/n just tell me, I’ll help.” He urged.

You stayed quiet.

“What’s wrong?” He asked again, adamant to get an answer.

You felt yourself grow annoyed, why couldn’t he just let it go? Why was he suddenly interested in how you felt? You were just trying to protect what little left the two of you had and he seemed intent on destroying it.

“It’s you.”

He looked taken aback, eyes pooling with hurt and confusion, his body slightly deflating, “W-what?”

The moment was interrupted when the announcer took over the stage, beginning the presentation for the night, highlighting a few key players and matches.

You looked away first, turning to face the stage, clapping along, acting as though you couldn’t feel Gavi’s gaze burning into your back as he desperately tried to get your attention.

Once the presentation was over you were quick to excuse yourself, using the pretense of going to get a drink as a getaway.

You held your breath as you walked, praying Gavi wouldn’t follow you, and while he got up immediately once he noticed, he was quickly interrupted by another player coming to congratulate him, allowing you to slip away while he watched helplessly.

You let out a huff, leaning against the bar trying to slow your heartbeat.

“Long day?”

You looked over to see Joao standing next to you, watching as the bartender poured his drink.

“Something like that.”

He nodded, “Me too. Been a long couple of days actually.”

You smiled, “Actually, it’s been a long couple of weeks.”

He turned his head to look at you, “I take it back. It’s actually been a long couple of months.”

You raised your hand in mock surrender, “Ok I can’t beat that.”

He grinned, “Yeah not many people can.”

Your expression matched his own, and you gave your order to the bartender before turning to face him again, “So how’s the season been?”

“Shit. Honestly, I’m not even sure why I’m here I played for Chelsea this season not Athletico.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his abruptness.

“Yeah, I saw your first game. A red card first match is pretty brutal.”

His grin only widened, “Oh keeping tabs are we?”

You gave him a playful glare, “Of course gotta know how Barca’s competition is doing.”

“Oh, so you’re a Barca girl?”

“Since the day I was born.” You revealed proudly.

And it was true, even before you had met Gavi, you had loved Barcelona. Growing up in a family of football lovers, your family had declared FC Barcelona as their home club, and you had witnessed so many legends play for Barcelona and so many underdogs find their true passion at the club.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, and you gave him a nod of encouragement, pretending to zip your lips shut making him smile, “Ok well it’s always been my dream to play for Barcelona. Messi was always an idol to me.” He confessed.

Your mouth dropped open in shock before you abruptly shut it, your eyes almost widening comically as you spoke excitedly, “What oh my gosh. I’m in shock. Messi? But you play with Ronaldo!” You gasped.

He laughed at your facial expression, as he whispered, “I know! That’s why it’s a secret.”

You nodded along with his words, sending him a duh expression, “Of course, I won’t say anything I promise.”

“Promise what?”

Gavi had appeared by your side, a firm hand set on your waist, as he gently tugged you back into his body.

You peeked up at Gavi to see he was already looking down at you, jaw set. You gulped.

“Nothing much, just talking about the season.” You replied.

You saw Gavi’s eyes flicker between the two of you before he brought you closer, “Can we please talk?”

You bit your lip unsure but nodded.

He slipped his hand into yours as he led you to a quieter area. You waved goodbye to Joao as Gavi pulled you through the crowd, and he held his drink up in response.

He was a nice guy. You hoped next season would be better for him than the last.

He guided you to a standing table and propped your hands on the table as he played with the ring on your index finger.

“This a really pretty ring, is it new?” He asked eyes focused on your fingers.

“No, I got it last month.”

“I haven’t seen you wear it.”

“I’ve worn it every day since I got it.”

“Oh.”

You gently removed your hand from his, knowing that talking circles about something so small was going to get you nowhere.

“What do you want Gavi?” You asked quietly.

His voice came out gravelly, “I want to know how I let it get to the point where you feel more comfortable calling me Gavi rather than Pablo.”

His words when straight to your heart, and you could feel his pain almost as much as you could feel your own.

“I-I don’t know.”

You heard his breath falter, “I miss you calling me Pablo. Hell – I even miss you calling me Pablito. I’d take anything over whatever this is.” He gestured pointing between the two of you.

“Ok then let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about where it went wrong.”

His eyes lifted at your words, “Why are you speaking in the past tense?”

You remained silent.

“Amor please, why are you speaking in past tense?” You could hear the panic building in his voice.

“I think we don’t spend enough time together.”

“Ok we can fix that. No problem.” He agreed, desperate to save what was slowly unraveling.

“But do you want to? Fix it I mean?”

“Of course, I do. Please just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” His voice was almost near begging, and you knew without a doubt that you were in a similar state.

You couldn’t believe that this was happening here, in front of all these people, but it wasn’t fair to either of you to hold it any longer. You had to have this conversation sooner or later and it seemed like tonight was the time for it.

“Sometimes I feel like you don’t have time for me.” You finally admitted what you had been feeling for the last month.

He shook his head rapidly, “I do! But I mean we both have such busy schedules, you have even less time than I do with school.” he argued, “You also have work so that cuts down on the time we have too, but I’m not complaining.”

You were trembling with anger as you spoke, but you kept your voice low, “Yes, because I have to work a job to be able to afford college. I hate the hours probably more than you do, but I do it because I have to. I don’t have an option. I want to go to school? I have to fund it. But you? You didn’t have to go out with the guys after practice or stay around Ansu’s to play FIFA, but you did. That was a choice you made.”

He opened his mouth to retaliate but you weren’t done, “And I’m not even mad about that. I’m mad that for the last month, you’ve put me below every other person in your life, treated me like I’m dispensable, someone who you only consider when you need something. I feel cheap. Like something you only want when it’s convenient to you.”

“That’s not true. You’re my girlfriend!” His voice shook as he spoke, and you realized he was probably just as scared as you were.

“Then why do I feel like I’m not?” Your voice came out soft, barely above a whisper, but it felt like delivering the final blow to an already sinking battleship.

You felt his eyes on you, eyes glazing over as hundreds of unushered words filled the space between you, but the moment was cut short, and you had to remind yourself that you were in public as Xavi approached the two of you.

You gave Xavi a quick hug before he congratulated Gavi on a great season.

Gavi only nodded, murmuring short responses, eyes glancing at you every few seconds like he was scared you would disappear from his life if he wasn’t watching.  

He left after a moment, and then the two of you were alone again.

“I’m sorry Y/n, I had no idea that’s why you were working. I would’ve given you the money if you just said something-“

“I don’t want your money Gavi! It’s yours, not mine.” You said exasperated.

“C’mon Y/n you know I have enough to provide for the both of us. You don’t have to work-“

“I don’t want that! In fact, right now I don’t even want to be in this relationship!”

The boy physically shrunk back at your words, your admission sending him into silence as he processed your words.

Finally, he spoke, head shaking in denial, not wanting to admit what was right in front of him, “I-I don’t understand.”

You wanted to yell at him to notice all the signs you’d been sending him, beg him to understand the things you couldn’t say but had always been lurking in the shadows, easy enough to make out if you just paid attention. You wanted to scream that it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair that Gavi got to pursue his passion while you were being told to give up yours. Your head was filled with millions of things you wanted to say to him, thousands of little moments you wanted to share with him, you wanted to confide in him about how scared you were, how you had never felt like this in your life, how the thought of him slowly falling out of love with you was ripping your insides apart, making you sick to your stomach. There were so many things but not one left your mouth.

“I know you don’t.” Your voice sounded tired, even to your own ears, and you wondered if this was it. If this is where the two of you parted ways.

“I-I’m just going to go home.”

“I’ll grab our coats.”

You placed your hand gently on his, giving him a sad smile, “It’s ok. I think I’ll go alone.”

Neither of you could deny what it meant.

He ducked his head so you couldn’t see his red eyes. There was a moment of silence, and you could tell he was fighting with himself, trying to figure out what to do to stop the inevitable, until he slowly nodded,

“Ok.”

He had just sealed your relationship closed, something you were grateful for because you knew you couldn’t have done it yourself.

He didn’t lift his head as you walked away, and you didn’t blame him.

You grabbed your coat quickly, bidding goodbye to a few people as you made your way out of the hall.

As you walked down the hallway towards the main doors you realized you didn’t have a ride back. Your roommate had dropped you off and you assumed Gavi would drop you back. Well, that wasn’t happening now. Train it was. One glance out the window told you it was raining, downpouring to be exact.

How fitting. At least the weather matched your mood.

You stepped outside, immediately becoming drenched, but somehow you found comfort in it, at least this way no one could see you cry.

You were about halfway down the steps when you heard the door slam open, yelling coming from behind you.

You spun around, surprised to see Gavi stepping into the rain, “Please stay. Please.”

You stood frozen, unsure of what to say.

You were sure he wouldn’t follow you. But he had.

He kept taking steps closer to you, closing the distance, till you were only two steps apart, “Stay.”

His eyes searched your own, looking for something, maybe a sign that there was hope, something you weren’t sure you could provide.

“Just let me go. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

He shook his head, breath unsteady, “No I can’t. I can’t. I feel like if I let you go now, I’ll never see you again.”

You bit your cheek looking away, he was right. After tonight you had no intention of talking to him again.

His shoulders drooped at your silence, and he sat down on the steps of the building, harsh rain pounding down on him, matting his hair and drenching his extremely expensive suit, but he didn’t seem to care, “I hate fighting with you.”

You glanced down at his figure, watching him sit in the rain with his head in his hands, utterly defenseless.

“But I hate even more that it’s my fault, and that I couldn’t see what I was doing until I felt what you did, just for a second, and it hurt like hell.”

“I should have been there for you. I should have made time for you. I knew what I was doing wasn’t right but then I kept thinking it’s fine I’ll make it up to her next time, but next time never happened because I never showed up. I guess I was just so focused on making sure my teammates all liked me, and they had just stopped treating me like a kid, finally inviting me places - and I’m not using that as an excuse because I know it’s a shit one, it’s on me. Nobody forced me to do anything, I just wanted to feel included, and I put everyone else’s feelings above yours when yours was the one that was the most important to me.”

He finally lifted his head, and he was close enough that you could see the tears streaming down his face as he looked intently at you, almost like he was trying to memorize you, “If you want to walk away you can, you should - I’ll understand. I just wanted to apologize, really apologize, and own up to everything I did. I love you, and I promise you I won’t take anyone for granted the way I did with you.”

Your expression mirrored his own, and the tears were falling freely at his confession now that it was just the two of you. All the things you had wanted him to realize he had. All the things you wished he had said, he finally did.

But was it too late?

“Thank you, Pablo.”

He let out a short laugh through his tears, “No, thank you.”

You gave him a soft smile before you put distance between the two of you, letting the rain mask the sound of you leaving.

The lights from the venue grew dimmer as you continued walking, and you spared one last glance over your shoulder before it disappeared from view, seeing Gavi’s tiny figure rooted in place, watching you leave.

Your steps faltered.

How could you leave this relationship, this boy, when every single warning sign was going off in your brain, telling you to turn around and fight, to not give up? He had understood, he had understood exactly what you had felt, and had owned up to his mistakes, what else could he have done? He couldn’t go back and make it better, but he could change the way he treated you, but how would you acknowledge the change if you didn’t stick around?

It didn’t feel right walking away.

You thought you would feel content, feel like the pressure was lifting from your shoulders, but the dropping feeling in your stomach was multiplying, and your heart was constricting painfully at the thought of never seeing him, never laughing with him, never kissing him again, at the idea of falling in love with someone that wasn’t him.

You never ran faster in your life.

Let him be there. Please let him be there.

You didn’t know how you could explain yourself if you had to walk back into the event sopping wet, eyes puffy, and nose runny.

You couldn’t stop the wide smile that stretched across your face as he realized he was right where you left him.

You sat next to him and he didn’t notice until you spoke.

“Pablo.”

His head shot upon hearing your voice, and his face lifted for a second before falling again, “Di-Did you forget something?”

You nodded.

“Ok I can get it for you, what is it?” He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice clear.

You shifted closer to him, bodies pressed against each other, “I forgot that I love you. I love you and I want to work this out. I’m happy that you took responsibility and I believe you. I believe that you won’t do it again. But I should apologize too – I also wasn’t fair to you, and I did things that I shouldn’t have just to get back at you for making me feel so small.”

“I’m sorr-”

You cut him off, “Let’s stop apologizing.”

He nodded, eyes looking at you with nothing but love and admiration,

“Ok but we’ll have to work on our communication.” He said, and you hummed in agreement.

You touched your forehead with his, staring at each other with baited breaths until he finally closed the distance and kissed you. After a month of not seeing each other, you were finally kissing, pouring all your emotions, all your love, all your pain into the kiss, making a promise to be there for each other, and it felt like coming home.

alternate ending

[hughjackmansbicep]

The Seamstress

Contains: Logan Howlett X F!Reader

Summary: Youre a seamstress and he seems to have an endless supply of holey clothes....

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: None :D

a/n: haiiiiii ive always loved this trope in fics !!! tehe!! srry for not writing much recently i got fired from my job LOL anywayssss... i was listening to the smiths writing this unrelated but related.

Most days bled together, the same mundane routine playing out in front of you each day. Wake up, go to work, go home, eat takeout, and pass out to some soap opera. Currently, the highlight of your life was finding out what was going to happen next on The Days of Our Lives. You were a seamstress in the middle of Manhattan; you owned a small shop off 64th, and although you were living out your dream, nothing excited you anymore. Every task felt exhausting; you couldn't even find passion in sewing anymore. That was until he stumbled into your shop.

“Hi, yeah, I was wondering if you'd be able to sew this up for me.” He grumbled, holding up what appeared to be some yellow and blue jumpsuit. You'd almost forgotten to respond, completely captivated by his sheer beauty. His gorgeous face, chiseled body, kitty-like hair, and you can't forget the unusual yet totally working for him mutton chops. “U-um, ahem, yeah, I totally could.” You manage to choke out, reaching for the clothing item. “How long do you reckon it'll take?” You examine the clothing carefully; it's decorated with rips and holes everywhere. He's lucky if I can get this finished by the end of the week, “Tomorrow.” Your mouth moves quicker than your brain can. “Cool, I'll come by at 10? Is that alright?” He asks, slowly backing out of the shop, his eyes never leaving you. ‘10am? I can't begin to do that either; I mean, I wouldn't get to sleep tonight’. “Yep! See you at 10!” Cure that mouth of yours; you give him a smile and an awkward wave as he makes his way out the door.

You blow your breath out as if you'd been holding it the entire time, sinking down into your chair. You silently cursed at yourself for agreeing to such a stupid timeframe, but this meant you could binge Days of Our Lives tonight, so maybe it wasn't half bad.

The rest of the day went just as you expected. A couple hems, a few cinches—nothing out of the ordinary apart from the comic book cosplay you agreed to revive back to life. It was currently 3 o’clock in the morning; you'd been sitting there sewing the garment for 7 hours. Honestly, you'd been making great time; you were so close to finishing, maybe 20 stitches left total. Somewhere between the last stitch and a doctor getting slapped, you'd passed out on your living room floor.

You'd awoken to the feeling of your feline licking your cheek, causing you to immediately shoot up off the floor. Your eyes frantically searching for a clock, the power Must’ve gone out sometime around 5 in the morning because that's all you saw flashing back at you on the stove. In a frenzy, you started throwing random clothes on, praying they'd match, shoving the costume in a garment bag, and running out the door. Thats when you finally looked down at your phone, seeing the time read 10:03, “God damnit.” You whined under your breath. Your shop was only a couple blocks away, but that was still a 15-minute walk, so you sprinted. You probably looked like a complete lunatic, but you couldn't care less right now. The incredibly hot customer probably waiting outside your doors was the utmost important thing on your mind.

Dripping in sweat and hyperventilating as you turned the corner to where your shop was, you saw him just as you thought you would. Leaning up against the door, one arm crossed over his torso as he took a drag from his cigar with his other. God, he looked heavenly, and you... Well, maybe not your best day, but definitely not your worst. “Hey, sorry I'm late.” You breathed out, hands resting on your knees as you caught your breath. “But I've got your thingy.” You hold the garment bag up; he just furrows his eyebrows at you, cocking his head to the side. His silence makes you feel more embarrassed than you already do. You get up to unlock your doors, ushering him to follow you inside.

You check him out at the register; the only words being exchanged were the cost of the repairs and where he can tap his card. He walked out with a smile and a nod, a soft ‘Thanks’ escaping his lips before the door shut. You throw your head in your hands, feeling shame wash over you. You were hoping and praying he was going to leave his number on the receipt, but obviously he did not. I mean, why would you have had him waiting and showed up looking like a complete mess? Not very good looks. You simply had to chop it up as a loss and return back to the mundaneness of your life.

The very next morning, though, he was here again, this time holding an old brown jacket. He'd said there was a small hole in the pocket he wanted fixed. This time it only took you all 20 minutes. You asked him to wait upfront as you brought the jacket to the back to repair it. When you returned, you checked him out the same as before, and he left exactly the same as before. This became an everyday routine for the two of you. Every day he'd walk in with some worn-out article of clothing asking you to stitch it up; you always obliged, even if the clothes looked and smelled like they came from 1987. You always did wonder how this guy had so many ripped-up clothes just lying around, and why wouldn't he just bring them in all at once?

This charade had been going on for 2 weeks now when you finally decided to break from your usual script of ‘thank you, come again’. “Why is everything you own torn apart? Is everything okay back home?” You asked as he slipped his card into the machine. You could see the heat rising to his cheeks as he tried to hide a smirk creeping its way on his face. “You want me to be honest with you?” He looked up at you, pursing his lips together in a thin line. You nodded your head, waiting for him to continue, “I honestly thought you were gorgeous when I first walked into your shop.” Now your cheeks started burning red as your eyes went wide. “So every day since then I head into Goodwill and find anything I can with a hole in it so I can find an excuse to come see you.” This was the first time you'd ever seen this man avoid eye contact with you. You couldn't find your words as your throat had gone dry. He was into you??? And here you were this whole time thinking you ruined your shot (and that he was homeless, but you weren't going to tell him that). 

"Well, say something.” He exasperated, snapping you out of your daze. “I honestly don't know what to say; I’m shocked. I get off at 6 if y’know... You wanted to grab something to eat?” You offer awkwardly, smiling through the pain of how anxious you sounded. He looks up to you finally meeting your gaze, a soft smile painted on his lips. “Ill be here to pick you up at 6 doll.” He grabs your hand, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckle. He walked out the door, leaving you in utter shock and denial for the rest of your shift.

hi ps u can always request me shtuff to write! :3

[xuchiya]

streets [c.san]

₊˚.༄ || filth valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄

₊˚.༄ We real life made for each other And it's hard to keep my cool ₊˚.༄

"it's getting late, do you have someone to pick you up?" your head turn towards san, still in his uniform. his face mask were pulled down just below his bottom lip, emphasizing his cheeks; it made you want to squish his cheeks from being so innocent.

san was one of your fellow nurses. The crisp navy-blue scrubs fit him perfectly, the name tag reading "San Choi, RN" gleaming under the fluorescent lights. you cleared your throat; your heart was beating too loud for you that it hurts to taint this uncorrupted soul. you have hint after hint of crush on this man, this huge ass man that his face does not match his enormous body that you totally found yourself completely hidden.

proved when you stood behind him once and when you say, disappeared.

abracadabra, bitch not even a strand of hair can be seen.

"ah well i actually have somewhere to be ... what about you?" san looks at his watch, sighing, brushing his hair off his eyes, "my friend said he'll pick me up but he had an emergency call from his dad's company so now I have to wait for a bus..."

you frown looking at your watch too, its 10pm. Usually buses don't take this route anymore, "buses aren't available in this hour, san."

his heart fell on his stomach, double checking his watch, "damn it!" your eyes widen at his sudden burst of profanity. his eyes widen too and apologizing to you, "i'm sorry didn't mean to."

your lips curled up in a teasing smile, "your patient would not like it if she heard that one." San shakes his head laughing lightly. the small silence engulfs you both before you had an idea which will be a torture for you.

probably a torture for him too.

San was already an intern at a prestigious hospital near his family's home; owned by his grandfather though he is expecting him that he will continue his service even after his internship.

but when San came by a hospital that one of his friends were admitted after being confined. He found himself stuck on the reception area as his eyes were glued to your figure, up on hospital trolley, shouting dose of pharmaceutical. Your determine look and perseverance on your career what intrigued him to know you more.

so he left his family hospital.

San is pediatrician and so do you, the amount of love he gives on these children what also intrigued you in getting to know the man that suddenly left the hospital that you were trying to apply.

"hey i can give you a ride?" you mention, his ear perk up and reddens. his heart thumps inside his chest all of a sudden, "i-i .."

upon realizing what you said, your eyes once again widen and stutter out excuses, "oh my gosh! i - this is embarrassing, God take me!" you groan, covering your face.

for a while San chuckles at your reaction, composing himself, "I know you don't mean any harm but if you're going to drop me off then i hope i'm not delaying any of your plans."

When San agrees about you giving him a ride, he meant to be able to relax on the passenger seat.

He stares at the glaring matte black with gold flames on the Kawasaki Ninja 400R. That is one of the motorbikes he wishes to own and drive but because of his independence, San is still saving up.

"Holy .." You look at San as you place the glove tightly on your hand, "hmm?" Clueless on his reaction, you swing your leg over the bike, reviving the engine on and tune in the smoky sound of the engine of your bike.

San stares in awe as you hand him (set of embarrassment hue on your cheeks) a customized helmet. It has kitty ear with soft peach color as parallel of the inside of the ear.

"this is so cute." when he puts in the helmet, it dawned on him. You, arch back, hunch forward and him behind you, holding on tightly. His ears were once again red, frozen in place; his mind racing the same speed as your bike with filthy thoughts.

Like how could he not? Your ass is probably close to his (now) stiffening cock in his scrubs when he jumps in. the way it would keep brushing on his cock would probably have him cumming there.

"San? you okay?" You haven't feel the pressure or the weight on your back, so you turn your attention on San; standing with an incredible thickening boner in his scrubs, if it weren't for the eye shield of your helmet, he would seen you checking him out.

Or worse, staring at his firm boner.

San snap out of his thoughts and hurriedly swing his legs over the other side of the bike, after settling down on the leather seat. "You okay? Do you need-"

"Let's just go." San spoke clearing his throat and immediatly feels bad for brushing your concerns off, you understood why.

Without speaking much, you note that San would not hold on to you because of his hard situation so you did the initiative to grab his hands, in which he was taken back, and wrap them around your waist; patting his hand, "Mind you that it's night and I'll be taking advantage of the road."

You look over at San, "don't worry, I'll slow down if its too much." So without delaying much of your guys time, you kick off the stand and off both of you on the streets. San calling whatever can answer them make this ride, a comfortable one.

to say the least, no one grant his calls.

"u-Ugh f-ufuck chakaman!" San gasp, holding on to the mop of hair on the level of his hips while gripping his scrub up on his chest in his other hand—exposing his toned stomach, his scrub pants pooled on the floor. Your tousled hair, lips wrapped around his aching cock left him gripping the leather seat of your motorbike as you continued swirling your tongue on his red tip. San cried, bucking his hips when you took all of him; fitting him in your mouth up til’ his tip hitting the back of your throat.

 You hum to accumulate more of his climax, which in your satisfaction made San whimper thrusting his hips in your mouth, “f-fuck …” Shamelessly, he started fucking your throat as his climax were nearing and sooner, his cum spurted on your tongue and down your throat. You pull away from him, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to let him see that you have collected some of his cum before swallowing them.

  You gave him a smile before licking your salty lips, standing up proceeding to remove your leather pants; letting them rest on your knees along with your undies. You turn your head over to look at him with a smirk on your lips, bending moderately for him to see your puckered glistening hole with a small help of one of your hands to spread your cheek.

 “I know you want to get your dick wet, come on baby.” San’s eye twitch the moment you provoke him and have to look around the cleared parking spot you parked on and had him spitting his fingers and run them up and down your puffy cunt before grabbing his semi-hard dick and tap his tip on your hole; wiggling your asscheeks for him to provoke him more which he took the cue and slam his hips on yours.

You were quite taken back, his hips pace was something you were wondering if he has his dick wet a few times or he has this speed that you were looking for; nevertheless it had you moaning his name as his tip kept nudging. You rolled your hips each time he pulls away, leaving the tip then slamming back inside, “Fu-fuck Sannie— that’s so good! Right there!”

San’s hand crept down towards your clit, circling them rapidly and increasing the pleasure and the coil on your stomach, “You like that? You dirty dirty girl.” San stops circling his fingers around your clit and let you bend over your motorcycle as his hips snaps swiftly, placing the hem of his scrubs between his teeth as his hands knead the flesh of your hips then to your plump ass, spreading them as he watch his dick disappear inside your hole; a ring of your slick making him moan in his scrubs.

“Shit shit!” You cursed, lewd noises echoing the silent parking lot increase the arousal on your stomach, the fire of desire as San rapidly ram himself until you feel your thighs shake, “I’m g-gonna cum!” San drops the cloth and bent over to your ear, “Then make yourself a mess on my dick baby.” 

That it all took before you had a long string of ‘fuck’ leaving your lips as your orgasm washed over you, eyes fluterring close hips moving to chase your high. You felt San’s hand clasp around your hips and his broken moans reach your ears, “I don’t care if you’re on the pill or not but me? Get you knocked up? It’s been a fantasy of mine.”

His seeds spurted your walls, bucking a deeper part of your pussy. His hips halted as he let every drop of his cum stay inside you before pulling out, a whine left your lips but soon replaced by a yelp as San smacked your ass in his palm before placing your panties and your pants back on, “It’s cold and besides …” You turn around, he brushes hair away from your sweaty face, “I don’t want you wasting what we work hard on.”

Your cheeks flared, “You must have thought of this ‘fantasy of yours for a while now eh?” San shakes his head, a smile on his lips; securing his boxers and scrub pants back on before leaning on your motorcycle, shrugging, “Maybe but I should have taken you on a date first before I knock you up.”

You whine, smacking his arms, “Stop using that term.” San’s head threw back as he laughed at your reddened face, you groaned turning your head to the side. He stops laughing little by little before sighing, grabbing your hand; pulling you between his legs, “But it’s true. I had it all planned and there’s a step by step to it … but it looks like I skipped a step.”

You look at him, pouty lips, “a lot you mean.” He chuckles heartedly, grabbing your cheeks in his large palms, caressing them, “Okay a lot but it doesn’t mean I ain’t gonna take care of you. Let me praise you, love you, worship you and let me do those things because it is my duty to make you feel special and I want you to feel you are the only girl in this damn world. You’re my girl.”

You were left speechless and San saw in your eyes the appreciation, pulling you in his arms, “I’ll kiss you after our fourth date.”

“Why not now? You already got me knocked up and we are not even on our first date.” He chuckles and this is one of the reasons why he likes you; nonchalant or straightforward. He nodded, “Okay.” He pulls you in near his warmth, his lips landing gently on yours. He took the lead to make you feel special, make you feel the most important person to him.

[dunmeshichilchuck]

For That One Guy On Tumblr

Chilchuck x !fem ! halffoot Reader

So this starts off during the sauna episode. I'm changing it a bit to where that floor has been that cold since the dungeon was created. There will probably be more installments but right now it's just setting things up. Anyway, enjoy.

The last thing you remembered was cold, leeching into your bones. Cold, and the certainty that this would be the last thing you'd ever feel. Your party had left you to die rather than try to heal your wounds, and this floor was too deep for someone else to come along and take pity on you before your body rotted. You were going to become a ghost, haunting this dungeon without ever being able to leave. 

And then you opened your eyes again, and you were all too warm. 

You took a few shuddering breaths, coughing and gasping. Your lungs burned like they were on fire and your whole body ached. You curled up into yourself, shivering. And then you became aware of what was going on around you. And also that for some reason everyone was wrapped in towels instead of normal clothing.

"YOU MEAN YOU HAD NORMAL RESURRECTION MAGIC THAT COULD DO SHIT LIKE THIS THIS WHOLE TIME???!!! ARE YOU STUPID? WE COULD HAVE AVOIDED THIS WHOLE THING!" 

Another....halffoot? Shouted. 

"I already EXPLAINED why I couldn't have used normal magic!!" A blond elf woman shouted back in an exasperated high pitched squeal. "It wouldn't have worked! The thread between body and soul was too tenuous! And we'd never have been able to get enough regular meat down there! Anyway I don't understand why you're so against it, I didn't see you arguing against it at the time!" 

A blond tall man, blindfolded? For some reason? Interjected. "Marcille is right! Even though the body was in a not so great condition the ice kept it from rotting so all the component parts were still there! We just got lucky that we were able to gather them all together! Once the body thawed resurrecting it was a simple matter! There was no need for special magic like with Falin." 

They continued to argue violently while your recently unfrozen brain attempted to make sense of the situation. 

Had the half foot somehow had enough pull in the party he'd been able to convince them that they should revive you? You weren't much use on this floor and presumably deeper ones where small traps gave way to larger monsters, so you couldn't work out any reason they had for reviving you. You looked around the small, actually extremely hot room you were in. It was...a sauna? Was it really a sauna? What the fuck? 

You smelled something delicious and you looked around to see a dwarf with long black hair and a massive bushy black beard peacefully tending to meat cooking over what looked very much like a wok. What the fuck? They were a high enough level party to have fresh meat down here? That would explain why they'd been able to spare the revival for you. 

There was also what looked like a beast girl crouched next to him, watching the squabbling party members with a bored expression on her face. Well. That was just another one of the things to file away and deal with later. 

Almost instinctively you staggered to your feet and crouched down by the dwarf to watch him cook. Your stomach grumbled insistently. Even in normal circumstances getting revived made you ravenous. Now you felt dizzy with hunger. 

"Ah, hello there!" The dwarf looked up at you and beamed. "Always nice to have new folk eat with us! You must be hungry after getting revived, food should be ready in just a few minutes."

He continued cooking, humming softly to himself. 

"Would you...like some help?" You managed to rasp out. Throat hoarse with disuse. 

At this point it seemed like the other people there remembered your existence. 

"Ah! So sorry, you're awake!" The elf said. "You were out for a long time, I didn't know if the magic would fully take with how long you'd been in the ice."

"How...how long?" You said, almost dreading the answer. 

"At least a couple of years, based on the state of your organs and bones" the blindfolded tall man said enthusiastically. "You were lucky! The extreme cold preserved you extremely well and there aren't any monsters down here that would go to the trouble of digging you out of the ice." 

You blinked at him. 

"How did you get all the way down here?" The elf asked. "Was your party wiped out? We looked but we couldn't find anyone else."

"I'll bet they left her behind." The halffoot interjected dourly. "She probably got injured and they didn't want to waste time resurrecting her or bringing her along." 

"what!" The elf gasped. "that's terrible, no one would do that! Why would you even think of that Chilchuck??" 

"Like I keep telling you guys, halffoots are treated as expendable! It'd be totally within the realm of possibility! Especially since she didn't sign on with the union or we woulda recorded when her party came back without her or she just never came back at all!" He frowned. "That's why I started the damn thing in the first place but if not everyone uses it it's not fucking good to anyone."

he (chilchuck?) turned abruptly to you. "Anyway, why didn't you use the union? We would have been able to look out for you so this didn't happen."

You stared at him in utter confusion. "....union?" 

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn in Baldur's Gate 3: Chapter 1

Plot: You’ve been reincarnated.  It’s the realization you come to when the tiefling offering you a health potion introduces himself as Tav.  You died and your soul revived in Baldur's Gate 3, at the beginning of the game no less.  But you only have the memories of your past life on Earth, and none of your current one.  

Tav invites you to join him on his journey, despite your lack of abilities or maybe because of it.  You might as well go along with it; where else would you go with no memory of who you currently are, or knowledge of anything that lies outside of the narrative?

There is much to discover about your life in Baldur's Gate, and what transpires relies on the tiefling leading your group as Tav.

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: This is very self-indulgent so there will by a lot of Gale and Astarion.

-------------------

“I’m Tav.”

He’s a tiefling, you recall.  Tall and bulky with curled horns.  The dark gray skin tells you he’s descended from Mephistopheles, and his simple leather gear tells you he’s a barbarian.  Huh.  Yeah, that makes sense, he’s Tav, the hero of the game!  Or…the villain?  Your head pounds as memories flood back to you—tieflings, bards, goblins, vampires—you, sitting at a computer debating which choice would garner you the most favour with your companions in…

“Baldur’s Gate,” you mumble.  You slap a hand over your mouth, staying on your knees as you blink at the tiefling.  At Tav.  He arches his brows and kneels beside you, offering you a small vial of red liquid.

“You’re from Baldur’s Gate, too?” he asks.  “Drink this, it’ll make you feel better.”

Without much thought you take the already opened vial from him and swallow it down in one small gulp.  With a deep breath the pounding in your head subsides and you can think a little clearer.  Maybe not clear enough to fully comprehend that you’re currently in a video game, or that there’s a small wriggling behind your left eye which means…

More images come to you, a mind flayer holding a worm with too many teeth to your eye,  a githyanki—Lae’zel—pointing a sword at you, and then falling from the ship.  The nautiloid.  Tav’s memories of the ship.

Tav winces as the visions fade.  “Guess you got one of those, too.”

A chill runs down your spine, through each and every bone of your body until the squirming thing behind your eye stops movement all together.  

“I uh…”  You look around at the crash area, taking in the rocks and splotches of fire dotting the land on one side and water on your left, until you meet the gaze of a raven-haired half-elf.  

“This one doesn’t seem to be all there,” she says.  Her voice is as smooth and condescending as you remember, and you find it endearing despite the insult.

“Give them a moment,” Tav responds over his shoulder.  “It’s a lot to take in.”

Yes, especially because this is most definitely a dream.  A very vivid, painful, exciting, insane dream.

“What’s your name?” 

You fear all you can do is blink.  You tell them your name, voice as shaky as your body.  There’s a tremble in your hands that you can’t control, even with a hard grip on the now empty vial.  “And thank you…for the potion.”

Tav lifts, holding a large sharp-nailed hand out to you.  “Can you stand?”

You nod, taking his hand and letting him lift you to your feet. You let your hand drop to dust off your clothes, nothing that you remember wearing.  The last thing you recall was going to bed in a tank top and shorts but you’re now wearing a dark blue overcoat atop loose fitting pants and a fitted shirt.  The borders of the coat are stitched with gold swirls, and based on the softness of everything you wear it has to be expensive.  Somehow, after everything (whatever the Hells that involved) you are quite clean.  Not to mention the bag that hangs at your hip beneath your coat is quite heavy, and another bag that wraps around your waist and sits at your back has the contents clinking together when you move.

You look like a caster of some kind, but you can’t tell which.  You can’t feel anything that would indicate your abilities, but some cold sensation at the back of your mind tells you you can do something.  Like another limb sits in your mind, waiting to be moved.

“We don’t have time for stragglers,” Shadowheart says.

“Yet I helped you,” Tav counters.  There’s a playfulness to his tone that doesn’t match his furrowed brow.  

Shadowheart concedes.  “Fair enough.  You’re welcome to join us in our search for a healer.”

You nod.  Yes, a healer!  They’ll be able to—pain strikes your temples as another memory clouds your mind.  

A truck careening at you, horn blaring—a sharp hit of adrenaline and then…here.

“Oh my God I’ve been isekaied.”  Your revelation earns you quizzical looks from Tav and Shadowheart.  Reincarnated.  Just like those cheesy but addicting books about a girl being reincarnated as a villainess in some cheesy addicting romance novel.  You press your hands to your face, feeling familiar features but still wary.  “Quick, what do I look like?”

“A lunatic,” Shadowheart answers.

Tav hesitates, but describes you.  You.  Not some other face, not a character you recall from the game but you.  Regular human you. You sigh, relief flooding over you.

“As…interesting as this conversation is, we should get moving,” Tav says.

“Agreed.”  Shadowheart doesn’t move until Tav heads to the only direction you can go, near part of the crashed ship.  

“We need to find Lae’zel,” Tav adds.

“Less agreeable,” Shadowheart says.  “She’s probably long gone by now, if not dead.”

“Well we should still keep an eye out.”

You follow the two into the still burning wreckage where they suddenly stop and draw their weapons—Tav a large axe, and Shadowheart her mace and shield.  

“Intellect devourers,” you conclude.  Three sit at the far end of the ship, scurrying towards you at a frightening speed.  With one slash of his axe Tav takes out two of them before they can get close to you, and Shadowheart smacks the other one down.  All defeated in what?  Three seconds? 

The three brains bleed out and flop to their sides, clawed limbs twitching.

“Vile creatures,” Tav says, holstering his axe.  You expect the two to keep moving and check the nearby bodies for gold and supplies, just as you do in the game, but they don’t.  They walk right past the dead man without rifling through his pockets and as you step by you feel your stomach lurch.  To see a bloody disfigured body in reality felt very different from the game. The vacant eyes staring upward, pieces of flesh torn from his stomach…It isn’t until a hand covers your eyes and directs you forward do you realize you’d stopped.  

“Just keep moving,” Tav says, keeping his hand by the side of your head so you can’t see the body.  When his hand falls you keep your eyes on his swinging tail, and follow after him as he turns and moves into the sun.

Barrels and a broken down cart let you know what’s coming next—who’s coming next.  

Your excitement strikes you then, still shaky and confused but awake.  You’re in Baldur’s Gate 3, with Tav and Shadowheart, and hopefully all the others.  

Your eyes scan the water nearby, debris scattered everywhere until you spot a dagger on the dock.  Tav and Shadowheart watch you dart over and pick it up.

“I thought you would be one to attack with words, not knives,” Shadowheart says coolly.

You stash the dagger in a boot, smiling at Shadowheart.  Gods. She was pretty as pixels but seeing her in the flesh, she was something else.  “Well, words aren’t always the best weapons.”

“Can I get some help?”

You recognize the voice without needing to see the speaker.  Astarion is just up the hill waiting to ambush Tav and…kill him depending on how he answers.  

Based on how Tav darted ahead at the sound of someone in trouble (albeit fake trouble) you figured it wouldn’t turn out too terribly.  So they had skipped over robbing the dead, and didn’t explore every corner of the map looking for treasure chests…that didn’t mean things would be different with each companion intro, right?  There’s a plot here, and it has to be followed to a certain degree…right?  There were no screen pop ups to decide dialogue and you all appeared to have free will, which was good.

Right?

Your thoughts did little to comfort you as you climbed the hill to find Astarion already pointing his blade at Tav who was apparently perceptive enough to dodge rolling around in the ground with the vampire.  You stopped next to Shadowheart, at ease just watching the situation unfold.

Both men twitch and writhe as their parasites connect.  When their visions fade Astarion questions it, and Tav answers honestly about being in the mind flayer ship and what the worms can do.

You study Astarion’s face as he realizes that he’s somewhat free, but there’s a time limit to the incubation period.  Tav offers for him to join your trio, and just like you remember, he agrees.

“Splendid,” Astarion says.  “Lead on.”

At that the vampire meets your eyes.  Icicles dance up your spine until they pierce the back of your head, making you wince and hold a hand against the spot.  

You grunt at the sudden pain, the sound quiet but drawing attention all the same.  You wave the eyes away from you with your free hand.  “Sorry.  Head still hurts a bit from…having a tadpole put inside it.”

Nobody questions that, though you know it was something else.  Every time your eyes even flit in Astarion’s direction you can feel a push at the back of your head, that phantom limb clenching as if trying to stretch and release itself.  You wish you could say it was the tadpole, but it feels nothing like when you connected with Tav.  

“Well let’s just try to keep our worms separate,” Astarion says, seemingly at you.  “I don’t need to see what’s in your head anymore than you do mine.”

His eyes linger a moment on Tav.  You nod your agreement though he isn’t looking at you now.

“I saw some footprints along another path,” Tav announces.  “There could be other survivors.”

There doesn’t seem to be any question as to who is in charge.  Shadowheart insists on searching for a healer but with a quick convincing from Tav you’re all headed towards a strange looking purple sigil.  

“Looks unstable,” Shadowheart says.

“Best left alone,” Tav agrees.  It was just like a friend's first play through that thought the sigil would kill them, so they never had Gale join their party.  It wasn’t a totally unfounded theory—swirling, sparking voids did seem like something that shouldn’t be touched but everything in this world had a purpose.  Anything out of place or, well, glowing, was important to the story.

But then the group is walking toward the bodies of three goblins discussing supplies.  

They’ll steal from goblins but not humans?  Seems odd but maybe you’re the weird one being so willing to pillage the dead, no matter their race.  You frown, looking back at the sigil and knowing who is inside.  “You sure you don’t want to see why it’s like that?”

Astarion is observing his nails while Tav loots the goblin bodies.  Shadowheart kicks one of the bodies out of her way once fully plundered and looks back at you.  “Be my guest.  But if you get sucked in don’t expect me to come looking for you.”

“I’ll come look for you,” Tav states with a cheeky grin, hands inside a dead goblins pockets. It makes you smile back, so…kind and disarming.  You recall barbarians didn’t have high charisma, but Tav seemed to have it in spades.  Or perhaps your recent head injury was clouding your judgement—after all your reaction to being reincarnated, to being dead, was quite tame. 

“Ah, a true hero.”  Astarion looks between you and Tav, eyes narrowing as if trying to solve a puzzle.

You turn your attention back to the sigil, taking a small step towards it when an arm pops out. 

“A hand?” a voice calls.  “Anybody?”

You slap the waxing hand immediately without a thought.

“Perhaps I should have been more specific,” Gale says.  “A helping hand please?”

“Oh, right!”  You quickly take his hand in yours and tug to no avail.  

“Keep trying!”

You pull harder, wondering if you were going to end up holding a severed arm in your hand as the sigil sparks brighter and buzzes with energy.  You choose to ignore those thoughts and keep trying to free the wizard. 

With one final pull the person connected to the arm comes tumbling out of the sigil.  If it had been Tav to pull Gale free you’re certain it would have been a smooth experience, and he would have stepped back and dodged getting shoved to the ground by the sudden lack of resistance.  But it wasn’t Tav, it was you, and instead of dodging the wizard your feet tangled with each other and you both went down. 

The wind is knocked from your lungs with Gale atop you, his forehead connecting with your sternum and leaving you gasping for air.  Strands of his hair fall onto your lips, soft and smelling of something spicy while his left arm is wrapped around your middle, the other braced against the ground.  You realize he’d been trying to protect you on the way down, but wasn’t quick enough to cover the back of your head, which now throbs from the fresh battering.  

“Ouch,” you croak, voice barely making it out of your throat.  Footsteps approach until Tav, Shadowheart, and Astarion are hovering over you, each with a small smile.  Well…Astarion’s is more of a smirk…

Gale pushes himself off of you and before he can say anything Tav has his hands beneath your underarms and is pulling you up.  His hands slide to your back until you’re steady enough to stand on your own and thank him, rubbing at the back of your head again. 

Throbbing is better than stabbing, you suppose.

“Apologies,” Gale says as he smooths his hair back, “I’m usually much better at this.”

You continue to rub the back of your head as he and Tav exchange dialogue, much of it going in one ear and out the other as you focus on the pain radiating in your skull.  You squeeze your eyes shut and let your hands fall to your sides, giving in to the fact you can’t rub away whatever sensation is there.

“And you my friend.”  Gale is in front of you, drawing your gaze to meet his.  “I am truly sorry for landing on you, but extremely grateful for the help.”

You can’t stop your smile at him anymore than you could with Tav.  “Happy to help.”

His eyes stay on you a moment longer than appropriate, but when they drape down your body you think he’s almost sizing you up.  For a fight, or romance, or maybe to steal your coat you aren’t sure.

You look to Tav for direction, waiting for the leader to…well, lead.  Lae’zel should be next, but that’s when you notice you have an extra member.  With you there it makes five travellers, but nobody has been sent to camp yet.  Wherever that is.  While you’d like a moment to sit and organize your thoughts, the idea of heading somewhere on your own was terrifying. 

“I hear voices over that ridge,” Astarion announces.  Everyone turns towards where he’s looking, just a few feet ahead where the path winds up and you know you’ll find two tieflings looking at Lae’zel.  But you can’t hear them yet.

“Let’s check it out.”  Tav is already moving before anyone can object.  And like ducklings you follow him with Astarion, Gale, and Shadowheart.

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope

[bamsara]

Narilamb fic idea thought of, in progress, general gist:

Something goes wrong. The crown is split during Narinder's defeat, splitting the power between God of Death and the Lamb.

Narinder keeps a portion of his godhood, and the Lamb finds that rituals and powers they had access to before are no longer possible, Healing is cut short. Powers are halved. And there is a very real chance of perma-death, as the ability to resurrect oneself or anyone at all is not possible without full power, and the God of Death is not cooperative.

Afterlife and Purgatory are not options either. Dying means dying for real. Gone, no trace of you left.

Discovering that the will of dead gods are still in effect even when they are dethroned and in purgatory, even if not intentional, Lamb realizes there will come a time when Narinder will return to his full power, crown or no crown, and they must rehabilitate the God of Death before that happens, or at least give him a reason not to strike the Lamb down the moment their back is turned, and wipe out sentient life as the pissed off cat proclaims he'll do.

Narinder, The One Who Waits, now confined to a weaker, albeit free body, adapts to his release from imprisonment and place in the living world. Still retaining some power, he gains strength with every passing day, vowing vengeance on the lamb for usurping him. After a few unsuccessful murder attempts, it appears that he's in for the long haul. It is only a matter of time before the Lamb's guard is down before he can strike, and The One Who Waits is very patient.

All this and there's some god weirdo with mismatched eyes watching them, an offering of journies they can take to revive Narinder's siblings, and returning the power of resurrection so the Lamb can work on their original goal: reviving the family they lost before all of this began.

Something something something enemies to freniemies to wary friends to deeply caring friends to a very self-conflicted moment of 'oh'.

Notes: Narinder is a LOT more pissed off in the AU because I imagine having your power stolen like that right out of being imprisoned for 1000 years is something that would piss someone off a lot longer than how upset he was in the game. Lamb also is an idiot but in a good way, and has goals that no one else knows about.

I think I'm gonna name the fic 'The Rehabilitation of Death'

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Remember the Pokémon trainer ask with having pokepastas in their team? Could I maybe request something angsty?~ basically can I get headcanons of Arven and Kieran’s reaction to finding out Trainer got in a accident and was suffering from VERY lethal injuries and in panic missingno..basically messed them up into a pokepasta trainer,kinda corpse looking and now in never ending pain because of the raw wounds that never fully Heal but ofc take medication to numb the pain down and look out now for they’re friends so they don’t suffer the same fate? :))

Oh btw have a nice day or night!!! Remember to drink water!

Arven

From the moment he, Penny, and Nemona discovered your team enjoying a picnic...he always wondered how you got something like Missingno on your side.

But since it nearly corrupted his damn pokedex trying to just get information on it AND you were reluctant to share your past, he figured you'd just say "don't ask questions you don't want answers to" and end the convo right there.

He definitely wouldn't let Mabosstiff near it.

Last time he went near a Pokémon nobody should've known about...he almost lost his companion.

From time to time, he catches glimpses of your wounds (not during picnics ofc), bandages, and the medication Nurse Miriam prescribed to you, and suggests you save some of the herbs for yourself.

And they do help with your pain management when incorporated into tea or sandwiches (especially the salty herba mystica, which relieves your aches for a little while).

They're not miracle cures, but it's something.

Eventually, there comes a point where you know Arven wants to understand how you acquired Missingno, why you have so many ghastly Pokémon by your side, and why you were determined to defend him and the others down in Area Zero.

So you sit down and explain how you found it by accident in Kanto, caught it, and realized it was simply a lonely creature who wanted a trainer it could love and protect. Like any other Pokémon.

Yet you didn't realize the extreme lengths it would go to achieve that goal....until you nearly suffered a lethal wild Pokémon attack (it was in the dead of night, and you were ambushed while chasing after what you thought was a shiny).

You were bleeding out, bones broken and gaping wounds all over your body, and unconsciously begged for help-

And Missingno somehow heeded your call, escaping its pokeball and reviving you.

But in doing so, you were brought back as a zombie..one who still remembers the pain of that night and often cursed the glitch for not letting you die.

In time though you've made peace with it, knowing you were stuck this way now and it wouldn't let you go...

To the point where it erased its own pokeball from existence and became a constant presence around you, invisible aside from a few occasional glitch particles.

Yet you knew Missingno didn't mean any ill intent--all it wanted to do was save you.

Now you vowed to save others so they didn't suffer the same fate as you, whether that be haunted Pokémon left abandoned in some town or atop a mountain or your human friends in Area Zero.

Your pains aren't as severe now thanks to the meds, and you're grateful for Arven introducing you to herba mystica.

You were afraid he was gonna be freaked out by your story (or not believe you), but..while he finds it horrific and sad at first, he understands you better and is simply glad you're here now.

He's also happy to help his buddy manage their pain better, even if the remedies are only temporary.

Kieran

You had to bandage and conceal a great deal of your wounds so nobody at BB Academy got concerned, with DISABLED giving you a consistent best Heal Pulse to ensure your chronic pain wasn't debilitating).

Even so, Kieran assumes you got better over the past year and is desperate to battle you and win Missingno..something he vowed to acquire after realizing he'll never get Ogerpon.

You try explaining that it's literally impossible for you to surrender it, and it's too dangerous to bring it into a battle anyway, but he thinks you're just lying to him again and bragging.

In the back of his mind, though...he kept wondering why you had so many injuries..

Ofc..he's too focused on being stronger than you to ask you.

But after seeing Missingno come out (in its Fossil Aerodactyl form) and literally glitch Terapagos' beam out of existence and use Cut on multiple falling rocks---he was amazed.

You finally invite him to your dorm to talk after the mochi mayhem events, knowing he deserved some answers.

He sees the pain meds littered all over your countertop, and you finally reveal to him why you need those, why you look the way you do, and why you keep Missingno around:

Basically, after catching and befriending it, you got attacked by some wild Pokémon, and they would've left you for dead had it not intervened.

You made it feel loved, cherished, never using it as a weapon or an infinite item dispenser...and it couldn't watch you bleed to death.

So it saved your life, but it came with a great cost: neverending physical pain with your wounds never fully healing.

You used to curse Missingno for not letting you go, trying to release it several times to no avail, and just being miserable in general.

Yet once you realized it attracted more misunderstood, tortured, and damaged Pokémon to your side..you came to forgive it, knowing it was just like them despite its uncanny appearance: a creature who just wanted to protect its trainer.

Now you take medication (and a few leaves of herba mystica) to numb the pain down, so it didn't hurt as much as it did before.

You wouldn't want anybody to have a brush with death like you did. Not even your worst enemy.

That's why you went so far to protect your friends in Area Zero, especially Kieran.

After hearing your story, he felt so torn up and guilty--and convinced he was being "overdramatic".

You were still suffering all along, for years..and he had no idea, only thinking about himself and his selfish ways and how his pain couldn't possibly compare to-

But you stop your friend from spiraling, holding him and letting him cry out all of his renewed guilt, telling him that his own suffering was valid, too.

He was starting to look like a corpse with the dark circles and paler complexion....and it scared you.

Seems like he took "I wanna be like you" a bit too literally.

But you're glad Missingno saved you--otherwise you never would've gotten the chance to meet him and help him become more confident in himself (ofc you wish things were different before and didn't require you shattering his confidence first).

Since that conversation, Kieran starts taking better care of himself and makes a promise to protect you.

Not from physical threats per se as you're basically immortal, but from rude stares and whispers of how "creepy" you are.

He tends to hug you a lot and lend you his jacket for warmth if you ever get cold in class or in the polar biome.

It does help with the chills you get so often, and makes you feel grateful that you two were still friends despite everything.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Can you write a Percy de Rolo one shot where the gender neutral reader has to be revived after taking an arrow for Percy and the aftermath

Thank you so much for sending something for Percy in. I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you like it as well, anon.<3

On the romantic side

pairing: Percival de Rolo x gn!Reader

synopsis: “Come on, stay with me. Open your eyes. Fuck, Pike!” You recognize Percy´s voice calling out for help and hold onto his arm with all the strength that is left in you.

warnings: lethal injury, mentions of blood and fighting, angst, hurt/comfort

word count: 1.5k

“Noooo!” His voice echoes through the hall and rings in your ears. Followed by the piercing pain of something sharp  puncturing your neck.

The breath get knocked out of you instantly. You barely even feel the pain of crashing to the floor, dragged down by the sheer force with which the arrow was shot. You try to call out to someone. Percy, Pike, Keyleth, just anyone, but the only sounds that come out are some gurgling ones as blood enters your mouth. It spills over and runs down your chin, further sullying your clothes. You feel your strength fading fast, yet even if it weren´t your mind wouldn´t be clear enough to heal yourself. You feel someone carrying you away, but through closed eyes you can´t see who it is. A deep, frustrated grunt comes from above.

“Come on, stay with me. Open your eyes. Fuck, Pike!” You recognize Percy´s voice calling out for help and hold onto his arm with all the strength that is left in you. “Please, I…”

Something wet falls onto your cheek, but you can´t hear the rest of what he says as your body begins to shut down. Everything that once weighed you down is lifted from you, by some divine power. It´s peaceful and warm and safe. The glowing figure of your sister takes you by the hand, leading you towards a comforting light. When you try to ask her what all this means and how she could be here when she had died already, no sound leaves your lips.

Yet just as you are about to give in and follow the woman that had raised you so selflessly for most of your life, an indescribable force pulls you back from her. All the way back into a cold world full of pain. Your eyes open once more and you try to sit up with a gasp but a gentle hand pushes you back down.

“Whoa. Take it easy.” You recognize Vax as the source of the softly spoken words. Pike sits on the other side of your bed. Giving you a tight lipped but glad smile.

“What happened?” You ask them. Coughing up a storm as your throat scratches with every word.

“Well, um, you kinda got hit by an arrow back there.” Pike bashfully scratches her cheek.

“Wh-What?” This time Vax can´t keep you from sitting up. You look around with heavy bursts of breath escaping your lungs.

As you look around your room you remember everything. The battle, seeing Percy about to get shot and jumping in front of him to save him as the only solution you saw.

“Where is Percy, is he…?”

“He´s been in his workshop all day.” Vax grumbles.

“Was he here ever since we came back?” You are unsure why you even ask that question, but something tells you, that you need to know.

The lack of answer that you get in return is all the answer you need.

“Can I go see him?” You turn again to Pike. Looking for her go ahead. Which doesn´t come.

“I may have been able to bring you back, but it was a close call. You need to rest now.”

Wordlessly you let yourself fall back onto the pillow and huff a breath. “Okay.”

The two of them leave you alone after that. Telling you to sleep and that they would look after you again tomorrow.

But no matter how much you toss and turn, sleep won´t find you anymore. So, despite the warning you stand up and make your way down the hall. Sneaking past several rooms until you stand in front of his workshop. Underneath the door you can see the flickering light of candles and hear the muffled sounds of tinkering. For a moment your hand hovers inches away from the wooden portal. Debating with yourself if it would be smart to interrupt him. If he was avoiding you, there must be a reason and who are you to just burst in on him like this. Then again something deep inside you tells you, that you need to see him and you need to talk to him.

Before you can stop yourself to think again, you have already knocked at the door. It takes a moment to open, but once it does, Percy stands in front of you with an unreadable look on his face.

“You´re awake again. Good.” Is all the acknowledgement you get from him.

“May I come in?” You scratch the back of your neck at a loss for any more words.

The door opens the slightest bit further and he takes a step back, making barely enough space for you to pass through.

“What have you been working on?” You murmur as you sit on one of the stools, but Percy only stands there. His back turned towards you, shoulders tense.

“Pike said I shouldn´t come here tonight…” You continue in a soft voice. As loud as your aching throat will allow you.

“Then why are you here?” He grips the workbench so hard his knuckles must be turning even paler than usual under the leather gloves.

“I´m sorry… I just… I needed to see you…” You are taken aback by his reaction.

“Well, you saw me now.” His tone is clipped and so icy you almost think it drew all the warmth from the room.

“Percy, I don´t understand. I was just trying to protect you…”

“No, of course you don´t understand.” His shoulders tense even further and from the looks of it he pinches the bridge of his nose. Not that you could really tell from your place behind him.

You stand up and reach a hand out, desperate to touch him, to have him believe you and stop being so cold.

In the same moment he turns around and gives you a glare, prompting you to retract your hand and sit back down. “So why don´t you just explain it to me? We are both reasonable adults. You can talk to me.”

“Would you leave it if I said I can´t do that yet…” His voice and face turn surprisingly soft all of a sudden.

“Not if you plan on continuing to be like this.” You meet his eyes again.

“Like what?” He asks, clearly becoming frustrated with god knows what or who.

“Cold and irritable, when all I did was trying to help.”

He sighs and sits down beside you, before he speaks in an apologetic tone. “You may just wanted to help, but I almost lost you. I already lost one of my families. I can´t lose another.”

“Oh…” You are unsure what to say. Your heart aches. For his loss and for the fact that he did not see you the way you saw him. “I´m sorry. It´s late and I interrupted your work. I should go back to bed.”

“Okay.”

The conversation doesn´t help you sleep that night at all. Or the ones to come, as a result you pull away from him. Until you find yourself in front of his workshop again. Wandering up and down the hall in uncertainty. Right when you want to walk away again.

“I can see your feet under the door. Come in.” He says with a blank face.

You follow his instructions and sit down in the same spot you sat in a few days back.

“Can I… Can I ask you a question?” You murmur hesitantly.

“What is it?” He answers.

“Do you really see me as your family?” You look at your hands, fingers playing with each other uneasily.

“Well, all of you, as much as you may steal my last nerves sometimes. Why?” He questioned.

“Hm?”

“Why are you asking that? There surely must be a reason for this trouble late at night. I know you.” He inquires further.

“I… I just…” You pause. Weighing the cleverness of speaking the following words. “I found that the nature of my feelings towards you to be a little less on the familiar side.”

“What side are they on instead?”

“The romantic side… But now that I see you do not feel the same I am starting to think it may have been a mistake to confess that. So, please ignore my foolishness.”

“No.”

“No?” Once again you are taken aback by his persistence.

“No. I will not ignore you and you are not foolish. In fact, I… I feel the same for you.” He takes a step towards you.

“Then why did you…” It´s becoming harder to come up with words.

“Because I was afraid and you were just brought back from the dead. I did not know how to behave towards you or what to say. It was my fault you did what you did. I could never apologize enough for that. I…” You interrupt his rambling by pressing your lips to his for a moment.

“It was not your fault. It was my choice and I would do it again any day over having to live with the knowledge that I could have done something to prevent your death and I didn´t.”

[spacebaby1]

Ghost of you (Law Trafalgar x Reader. ft Cora-San) Part 3

It was a sunny afternoon, and most of the crew members were on the deck except your captain. He was locked in his room working on something. You kicked on the door before hearing his voice asking you to enter.

'Captain, why aren't you outside? Everyone is out in the deck.' He looked behind you out of the door and then went back to whatever he was writing, 'I'm busy. Did you need anything?'

'Actually, yeah,' you begin playing with your hand, 'I need a favour to ask for, Captain.' He raised a brow turning to you, 'a favour? What for?'

You nervously chuckled, 'uh, I want to go somewhere, an island.'

'An island? Is it where we need to be heading, you mean? I ch-'

'No, it's for my research, the Minion island.' You saw his face change experience in a matter of seconds before he took a deep breath and spoke, 'W-what for? I can help you if it's med-'

'No! It's uhm, well, it's personal research, and I was wondering if you could let me go there for a few weeks?'

He stood up, 'alone?' You nodded. He sighed, 'I don't know, I don't want you to get in danger. Let me come with you, or we can stop by Mi-m- that island for as long as you want, and we can leave when your research is over? Hum? That's okay with you?'

You smiled wide and jumped to hug him, 'Thank you, thank you, thank you, Captain! I promise I will try to finish the work as fast as I can.' You let go of him, and he watched you leave with a small smile on his face that dropped the moment he realised he's been smiling.

The crew didn't mind the few weeks break from the sailing. However, the cold is what they minded, and you were only excited to start your search for that devil fruit that will bring Cora-San back. You had figured out the spell that goes with the powers of the devil fruit to revive someone back from dead; it was a hard job, but you wanted to do it for your captain.

You have arrived by nigh time, luckily finding a small Inn to crash for the night away from the cold. You were still reading a book when you noticed that Law left his room and was heading somewhere. You decided to follow your captain and where he was going in the middle of the night without him knowing you were following him and followed him till he reached a tree with a small headstone under the tree. He sat there for a long while, then left as you hid behind one of the walls.

After he was gone, you walked towards the headstone and read the name on it, "Rosinante Donquixote (Cora-San)." It's been few days since you saw Cora-San and you couldn't stop thinking how much Law missed him, it was heartbreaking to you that he couldn't see him when you can even though you didn't even know him as much as Law does, a cold hand rested on your head, patting your hair, 'You'll catch cold out here.' You smiled at the voice, 'Then give me your fur coat. It looks comfy.'

Cora-San chuckled at that, taking the seat next to you. He wished he could share his coat with you so you won't catch cold, 'what do dead people do when we visit their graves? Do they see us? Or are they long gone, and it's just a body resting there?'

Cora-San raised a brow, 'you've got a huge mind there, Crybaby. I per-are you crying?'

You were. 'No, I'm not.' You whipped your tears with the back of your sleeves. And Cora-San ruffled your hair, making you chuckle. 'Come on, kiddo, let's go. I don't want you to catch cold and worry my Law.' You nodded and followed after him, 'Your Law, that's so cute!' Cora-San laughed at your comment.

[runabout-river]

Thoughts on JJK chapter 269 (spoilers)

(TCB still doesn't have their own translation but some parts of this need to be cross checked with more translations. I'll do that tomorrow.)

We start the chapter with an ominous flashback that brings Mei Mei to an old woman before we make a hard cut back to where we left off last chapter

To my pleased surprise Yuta managed to get his body back though truth be told I did NOT understand the minute details on how that happened. Need to read up on that.

Megumi still feels the aftereffects of Gojo's UV that had crippled Sukuna's DE. This could mean Megumi himself will have trouble expanding his domain but would that be a short term problem or possibly even a long term problem 👀

(Way back when, I had also made a speculative post that Gojo's UV that hit Megumi's soul might've left Megumi with Gojo's ultimate knowledge from all his life but that doesn't seem to be a thing in the end.)

The first years are told not to feel guilty about anything and to be teenagers again. This echoes what Gojo said in the beginning on how children should be able to enjoy the spring of their youth.

We learn then how Yuta survived: because of Rika who independently kept his body alive. When Kenjaku's CT burned out after Yuta used Gojo's DE, he should've died because he couldn't keep the connection to Gojo's body.

Kenjaku shouldve had the same problems but they speculate that he circumvented that with barrier techniques.

Now comes the part where I need better translations because what's said here is too confusing: which CT recovered and was Yuta now dead or unconscious when Kenjaku's CT burned out?

The next question is: how did his consciousness end up back in his body? All this time I thought Kenjaku transferred his entire brain from body to body but that's not the case apparently? 😄

Also, the biggest question right now: what happened to Gojo's body?

I made a speculative post on how this body hopping through Kenjaku's CT might actually end up reviving Gojo.

The main point for that theory is that Kenjaku revives the bodies he transfers into. Second and third points are that the revival is a one time thing and isn't bound to the continuous use of the CT (speculation) and that Yuta "dies" through the end of the CT and through other means

Say what you will but this about Miguel and Larue was extremely funny but also give Larue some respect, Sukuna was in love with him for a few seconds.

The part where everyone discusses their battle strategies is interesting. Gege does sth here I have done while writing fanfics as well: acknowledging how varied and complicated the choices in the plot where and have the characters discuss it.

This gives the chain of events that did end up happening in the end a grounded feel and here it also gives the characters room to interact with each other.

My complaint about these scenes are that they downplay Sukuna's threat and power

Talking about what they should've done differently and how they could've won more easily is ok, but for me this entire conversation was too couched in "we won because of course we did, this was easy but it could've been easier"

Higuruma is alive though but I had that on my bingo card already, his apparent death was pretty vague

It's a funny reveal how the watch room was Rika this entire time, and apparently Yuta/Maki is basically canon

We also learn that it was indeed Miwa who clung to Maki and used Simple Domain against Sukuna to stop his MS. Todo managed to get her and Maki out with his CT at the end.

Without Ui Ui the battle would've been lost, so he really is the MVP

Now comes the part about the New Shadow Style: Simple Domain that was interesting but also added unneeded elements into the story this late in the manga

Some parts of this was mentioned previously like how you made a Binding Vow to learn NSS. There was a woman in a wheelchair once that resembled Miwa in parts who was probably one of those people who's lifespan was sapped away by the Shadow Head.

But did we really need to give this so much panel time? I guess with the mention of Tengen (who was apparently the one who told the good guys who the Shadow Head was) we'll go back to what happened to her and the merger in the next chapter.

What we also got was commentary on how JJ society hindered itself from becoming better because of the greed of people who wanted more power.

Mei Mei speaks of sorcerers who could've survived with Simple Domain and she probably means Nanami. Their stories in Shibuya acted like foils to each other (without that or them being in conflict with each though) so it's relevant to Nanami what she said here.

Overall I think some parts of this chapter should've been cut so close to the finish, especially when this really is the end of the manga. I still have hope for Part 2 though, this chapter was (as I expected) ambiguous about that happening or not.

[brucewaynehater101]

How dare you refuse to pay my therapy bills after the torment you’ve cause me 🥲 Anyway turnabouts fair play.

TW: dead body, resurrection (probs others it’s like 2 am so it’s time to get morbid in ur inbox :p)

I feel like if any of the bats tried to dip Tim in the Lazarus pits, something Tim has explicitly said multiple times that he doesn’t want to get dipped into then maybe young justice would have to intervene on Tim’s behalf.

Tim is obsessed with doing things perfectly and that includes things pertaining to himself. If he’s not coming back right then don’t you dare bring him back.

So i’m imaging Jason getting ready to dip Tim in the pits, after his obligatory mental breakdown about it, only for a blur to suddenly take Tim’s corpse away.

Then young justice has to deal with the fact that they have one of their best friend’s corpses with them that they’re just hiding from the bats. Probably having to use one of Tim’s contingencies to stay away from them while dealing with the emotion turmoil of everything that they’re doing.

Then there’s the question of just what exactly they’re going to do with Tim’s body. Do they keep playing keep away from the bats with Tim’s body until it fully decomposes. It would usually never work but maybe with Tim’s contingencies they could pull it off.

Or should they destroy the body so throughly that there’s nothing left to be dipped in the pit? Are they going to cremate their best friend knowing that they’re going to stop their friend from every coming back.

They would want Tim back and love him even if he ‘came back wrong’ but they have to respect Tim’s wishes. He would forgive them but they know that they would ruin Tim’s life if they ever put him through that.

Or maybe it’s a secret third option where they’re all scrambling to find a way to bring back Tim with no consequences. They’re all diving headfirst into cults, magical/cursed items, healing methods from the future that brought back the others or they’re reaching out to other planets and universes.

Nobody in young justice was mentally sane about other members. They’re all ride and die about each other.

Yay!!!! "Payment" for my therapy, lmao ^^

If YJ knew Jason was about to dip Tim in the creepy lime juice bath, they probably would intervene. I'd also imagine other Bats would as well.

You've listed 3 options for YJ post corpse-napping:

Keep away/hiding Tim's body until it decomposes (or until he comes back himself)

Destroying/cremating Tim's body

YJ finding an alternative solution to bring Tim back

I like the au/hc that Tim has a contingency in place in case he dies before he is supposed to. I don't mean this as Tim having plans for how to deal with his death (like his will), but as in Tim having a way to come back to life. It is, for obvious reasons, untested and not certain. Still, Tim might have a plan for that.

Therefore, YJ would either wait for Tim to come back or try to figure out another option just in case.

Either way, unless Tim explicitly told them DNR (with the R being revive/resurrect in this case), YJ is gonna get their bird back. The whole band will get back together for this cause (or at least provide support/aid where they can).

Just YJ desperately keeping Tim's body from the Bats as they try to revive him and keep that gods awful Pit juice from him.

[cult-of-the-placeholder]

I like to imagine that Shamura always knew.

They have the gift of prophecy, after all: on the day of Narinder's birth, when Shamura first takes the infant god into their arms, they know. Their clairvoyance shows a distant future, an angry, hateful Narinder, wielding a great, cursed scythe with terrifying mastery, bellowing at Shamura to take up arms and fight him.

The vision splits, two possibilities at once: they can either do as demanded and fight their little brother--who's no more than a soft, mewling infant in the present, delicately holding onto their finger and cooing at them in wonder--and their overwhelming power of the eldest all at once will quell him. They can strike him down there with a single, decisive blow, and Narinder will collapse to the ground, crown shattering and lifeless body splayed out grotesquely. Shamura's siblings will shun them for killing Narinder, and the grief will slowly drive them insane.

Or... they can refuse to fight. If they refuse to raise their hand to their brother, Narinder will best them easily. Becoming increasingly more angry as he slashes and strikes them, shrieking at their older sibling to, "Fight me, damn you! Fight me!"

Shamura sees their own skull cleaved, sees the other bishops rush to defend them. They see Heket's throat torn out, Leshy's eyes gouged, Kallamar's ears ripped from his head. He sees them all, bloody and beaten, retreating. He sees them bandaging one another's wounds, sees them forging unholy shackles and chains that could hold their brother. His death is something they want to avoid, even after he injures them so.

Shamura knows better than anyone that a prophecy cannot be outrun or outsmarted, but they still try. What else can they do? The vision leaves them suddenly and the newborn god in their arms is whining with discomfort--tears have begun to drip off their cheeks and have speckled the poor child's face. They gently wipe them away, heart pounding with nerves, and nestle the baby close against their chest.

They try so hard. They run themselves ragged over the next several hundred thousand years, taking every preventative measure they can. They search endlessly for more visions, for some kind of hint, something they can do to change it. They vow to love Narinder completely, infinitely, and their other brothers and little sister as well. Perhaps if they loves him enough, treasures and cherishes them and gives them each the entirety of their heart, this horrible future can be evaded. Delayed. Denied.

Surely something must cause Narinder to raise his blades against them. They nip every problem in the bud, they raise the four other gods with grace and love, hands warm and kind when they need to be, just as they are firm and stern when it is necessary. The other 4 bishops grow in great power, and they love each child endlessly. Especially Narinder. The little god of death is the only one that shares their passion for the written word, and so often retreats into Shamura's vast libraries to study poetry and prose alike. Sometimes they read together, first with Narinder seated directly in their lap, then sitting together shoulder-to-shoulder when he's grown too big for that. Shamura is sure to express their affections each and every time, so that Narinder can never forget how loved he is.

Millenium pass by the hundreds, and the horrible prophecy hasn't yet come to pass, and Shamura tries valiantly to forget it. The world grows and matures and worships them, and their siblings have become fine rulers indeed. The lands prosper, endless devotion for them to dine on and grow ever stronger.

Then... Narinder asks Shamura about the prospect of change. Changing death's rules, carving out a new and uncertain future, letting the mortals walk again after having left the waking realm, and not in the means of rebirth, no: rather, instead, he spoke of granting their souls a second chance in a revived body.

It's blasphemous. It's heinous. It's unnatural.

Shamura cannot allow him to violate the laws of nature. They forbid he do such things, and that night they're plagued with the nightmarish vision again, but this time only one ending plays out: their skull is split because they refuse to fight him. It's happening so fast all around them, and they go to Narinder in the middle of the night. Hugs him desperately, grasping his shoulders with all four hands, begging him to remember that he is loved and that something like this shouldn't come between them. Begs him to reconsider, but refrains from telling him about the prophecy. Telling someone of a percieved inevitability often acted to push them directly towards it. Fate was ironic like that.

They beg Narinder not to, beg him to just stay as he is, and their little brother is so confused. And when Shamura refuses to tell him what is going on, he becomes suspicious. Bids they go away, and disappears into a dark portal to a place where Shamura can't track him.

It devolves from there. Shamura knows what's coming and is powerless to stop it--they stop sleeping, they stop eating, they withdraw entirely and throw themselves desperately into their forbidden library, searching for something, anything they can do to change their fate. A loss like this will be felt for thousands of years to come, and their heart can't bear it. Shamura spends days, weeks, months, years in a restless trance, mind stretched thin as their desperation drives them to search for a solution that does not exist. A long time for mortals to be sure, but for a god it could be the blink of an eye. While they have been deep in the recesses of ethereal knowledge, Narinder has grown considerably more bored, more angry, more isolated.

When Narinder comes to them, scythe in hand, Shamura is exhausted. It has been so long since they drank from their followers' devotion. Narinder comes to challenge them, a fight for death, he says--death will evolve, and if Shamura wants to stop it they will have to kill him. Or at the very least beat him into submission.

And Shamura can't. Their worst nightmare is playing out in real time right before their eyes, and they do nothing when Narinder's pitch black blade comes down on them. They're crying, silently, tears of grief flowing down their face because they know what's coming. If they raise their arms and fight their brother, Narinder will die.

They can't. They won't. Not to their baby brother.

[hello-vampire-kitty]

Servamp chapter 136 spoilers

I only read the chapter once so I haven't understood some parts because I haven't looked up the meaning of some words, that's what I'll do when I get to properly translate the chapter, but in the meantime, I'm just going over a few pages so you can get an idea of what's going on.

Oh my God, this chapter reveled so much!

I haven't talked about this, because I still have a few chapters to work on, but the previous one ended with Lily saying that everything was done in order to make the revived Count become the 9th Servamp with Mikuni as his Eve.

If that's the plan, could it mean that Mikuni will break his contract with Jeje or will it be possible to also keep him too?

Lily reveals to Misono that initially he wanted to put Kuro in Mikuni's path, but that would have been a great risk if Tsubaki went after Kuro, so instead he chose Mahiru.

"As someone from a family of magicians that could be easily monitored and who didn't posses the combat skills of a magician...And most of all, he was the son of a certain man"

Lily tells Misono about Touma being Mahiru's father, who was a hindrance because Touma was close to the realization of the Count's reincarnation. Lily thought that if Tsubaki would target Mahiru, Touma would be dealt with if he tried protecting Mahiru.

Lily didn't think that Touma would try shooting his son, but he was wrong.

"Love is the most difficult to read."

Lily tells Misono about his mother and what we knew about her was a lie. To start off her name was Tatsunami Hokaze which is so weird and perhaps it was a mistake because it happened before that some character's name were misspelled, like it happened with Pisca (it was even brought up by Tanaka on Twitter) and I recall one time where Tsurugi's name was written Rurugi xD

So, I looked up Hokaze (歩風) and it seems to be a boy's name and I have found the readings Ayuka or Honoka for girl names, so maybe one of those is actually her name?

Well, if it won't be mentioned by Tanaka if it was a misspelling, for now she will be called Hokaze.

Moving on, I noticed that in the first panel on the left, if you look closely at the book she's holding, it most likely "Jane Eyre" written on the cover, so we have a literary work that's associated with her.

Alright, so she was one of the orphans Lily brought to the Alicein house, like Dodo and Mitsuki.

Lily described her as ambitious woman and he encouraged her to get into Mikado's good graces. If she became his mistress, she could control him from the shadows.

The letters from his mother that Misono read were censored by Mikuni and crafted a beautiful story. In Japanese it specifically says検閲 which means censorship, so that seems to imply that he didn't fabricate the letters entirely, some things that were written in them might have been left unchanged.

Poor Misono :((

Man, the drama of this family...

So, we get to see Lily's past and I'm assuming (because it doesn't say) that he was selling his body? That's the impression I get from that image with the old guy who's giving him money...

Alright, moving on to Kuro's fight against Tsubaki!

It's awesome how Kuro made the candlestick into a sword! It looks cool!

Tsubaki says that demon Kuro was apparently sensei's "something", that he called things such as friend or brother and the demon was sort of like a familiar.

Kuro wants to hear from Tsubaki why is he obsessed with the Count, but Tsubaki isn't reluctant to tell him.

Kuro uses "Elpsis" to try looking into his memories and it's so cool that he can use Mahiru's ability, like he even changed the sword into a staff like Mahiru's!

Tsubaki had a little sister :(

So, apparently the reason he wanted to revive sensei isn't because he cared about him. He wants the ritual to be fulfilled because he awaits what comes after. Tsubaki made a promise with sensei, the latter telling him that he would make his little sister happy.

What could that mean? If she's dead, could it mean that he will bring her to life? It doesn't mention what happened to her...

Oh boy, so, I feel sorry for Misono because of how much he was deceived and we also find out that Tsubaki wasn't actually looking forward to be reunited with sensei because they had a deep bond or something, he even admits in this chapter that he's probably just a means to sensei's objective to be united with Kuro, because sensei was only interested in him.

So yeah, that's about it. I want to end the post by saying that I thank you for the patience with the scanlations, I still have three more chapters to finish until I start working on this one.