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apompkwrites · 4 years ago

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reader impact || first meeting

series masterlist characters: xiao, albedo genre: fluff summary: a game has been released entitled genshin impact, consisting of otherworldly abilities relying on the basic elements of nature. the game follows the story of an interdimensional traveling twin in search of their other half. along this journey, they meet different characters that live in this world. including you. notes: have i read a few genshin impact x game character reader stories and impulsively decided to make one too? maybe. you can't prove anything. i don't know if this will be a series but we'll see :D

xiao's playthrough -

xiao, named as alatus on his streaming platform, has made himself known as a gaming streamer with an awkward personality and blunt words.

he's the type of streamer who wouldn't have a set type of game and would, instead, play whatever his viewers recommended.

valorant? sure, he'll try it out.

hitman? why not?

animal crossing? it's a complete 180 from the other games, but sure.

when one of his viewers recommended genshin impact, he was quick to say yes and search for the game.

once the game finishes downloading, he quickly begins the game.

once the opening cutscene passes, he compliments the overall aesthetic of the game, pointing out the smaller details such as the footprints made by his character and the sound their clothes make when they move.

as always, his expressions are quite monotone to a point where it seems nothing draws his attention towards the game.

one of his mods, however, knows xiao well enough to where he knows which character he would like.

they convince xiao that the game is worth sticking with towards the second half of chapter 1, act 1.

he doesn't understand but he trusts his mods so he promises to continue.

it takes a few hours, especially because of the grinding, but a few streams later he's finally made it.

after fighting a one-sided argument with cloud retainer, he immediately begins his trek to the wangshu inn. and yes, trek, he enjoys walking/gliding through the world of teyvat rather than fast traveling everywhere.

he walks up the stairs to the top floor of the inn, resting his hands in his lap as the cutscene begins.

"to the blind, everything may not be as it appears..."

xiao is normally stoic during games, even ones with scenes made to fluster the player and catch them off guard.

but not this time.

once xiao's character is faced with yours, he just stops. his chat is spamming messages, asking if he's okay and if he's actually emoting for once.

he just stares at your character for a good five minutes.

and trust me, at least half of his viewers clipped that.

"... who are they?"

that was his only question after those minutes of silence. never before had he been attached to a character within the first few minutes of meeting them. his mind is racing and all he can think about is how amazing your character design is and how nice your voice is and how cool your character is and--

oh right, he's streaming right now...

anyway, the more your conversation goes on, the more he loves your character.

you're just so sassy and snappy but he loves you either way.

once you turn away with your back towards the camera, he just stares.

he stares at the intricate tattoo on your exposed arm and the mask hanging off of your belt.

and then you're gone.

his face drops so quickly and his viewers are very quick to point it out. he grimaces once paimon starts talking and he's very tempted to just speed through her dialogue.

he just wants to see you again.

once he hears from verr goldet that you've never smiled (at least around her), he immediately turns to the camera and says, "we better make them smile in this game."

once he finds out about your favorite food, he's already asking his viewers if he's able to get the recipe for it.

the next time he gets to talk to you, his face just lights up once he sees your character standing on the balcony.

however, once his characters tell you about rex lapis's death, his heart sinks when he hears how sad your voice becomes, even if your tone is still as harsh as before.

he gets all sad again when the quest ends and he has to wait to unlock the next archon quest.

he ends the game there and decides to spend the last few minutes talking to his viewers.

"i'll stream genshin again soon."

his viewers all know it's only because he met you.

albedo's playthrough -

albedo often does art streams and the occasional science-y stream.

if he does games, he mainly uses them to admire the art/mechanics of the gameplay.

genshin impact was one of those games he decided to play on his own solely because of the beautiful scenary.

(and the opportunity to draw more characters).

he's definitely the player that cares about elemental reactions above all else. pretty much every character he uses is built for elemental damage instead of physical.

most of his genshin streams are him walking around teyvat and pointing out the scenary.

he was definitely excited for the dragonspine event because that meant a better view of teyvat!

what he wasn't prepared for, however, was the reveal of a new character: you.

he isn't too into looking at the updates for genshin on his own, so he didn't find out about who you were until his stream asked about it.

he decided to react to the newest updates live since his chat seemed excited to hear his input.

once he pulled up the latest update details, he spent a few minutes talking about the new subzero mechanic.

but once he scrolled down to the characters... OH BOY

he's able to keep his composure but he definitely spends longer talking about you.

he almost gasped when he saw you were the chief alchemist of mondstadt.

combine that with the fact that you rely on elemental damage instead of physical...

your honor, he's fallen hard.

he'll put a countdown on stream to when your character and event drops, even on his non-genshin streams.

speaking of those streams, on the week just before your event, his streams will all be based around you and the information he's seen on you.

his art streams will consist of you and how he thinks your attacks will work just based on the description (he purposely avoided all pictures of your attacks for this stream).

his science-y streams would probably be based on your element.

once your event drops, that's the only thing he'll stream until it's over.

your assistant used to be his favorite character to play as but they just never clicked. it's not like he hates your assistant, it's just he didn't immediately fall in love with them.

his party definitely has your assistant in it, though.

he would have normally taken his time to look around dragonspine and admire the new scenery, but he couldn't help but speed through it until he finally gets to see you onscreen.

once the cutscene officially introduces you in front of a canvas, he's internally panicking.

you like art too?! and science?! how perfect can you be?!?!?!

he will genuinely feel bad when he scares the hilichurls because he knows that that's what you were sketching.

"who are you? why did you alarm them?"

NOW HE FEELS EVEN WORSE

even when you tell him you've finished sketching, he wants to make it up to you :((

if he were able to, he would've lured more hilichurls to let you sketch more.

some people in his chat would probably spam him to skip your dialogue because it's so wordy, but that's the exact reason why he listens to it all.

he likes listening to your character ramble on, especially because you have a soothing voice.

anytime your character does their idle animation where you give life to something, he will always let it play. even if your dialogue is finished before the animation, he would not progress until it's completed.

once your character asks for help, he would immediately agree before you finished your sentence.

man just wants to spend more time with you.

he likes staring at the tattoo on your neck whenever the camera is close to you. he just thinks it's really pretty on you.

once your other nonplayable assistant begins talking, he'll skip through the dialogue. he doesn't care if it goes more in depth into this world's alchemy, he just wants to hear it from you.

"hmm, looks like the potion's ready. i'll try a little first."

"please don't..."

he doesn't want you to try it just in case it hurts you :(

anytime he is allowed to walk freely with you around, he'd definitely put his traveler character next to you for a few minutes and just let you two stare at each other.

someone asks him why he spends a few minutes doodling on his desk when you talk.

he shows them the notebook that he had been writing notes in. it's filled with little doodles of you and some more information you give on the world of alchemy.

for future streams the involve you, he'd set up another camera to show the notes and doodles he's making about you.

sometimes he'll spend a few minutes on a single section where the camera is focused on you just to recreate the picture in the notebook.

he absolutely loves whoever planned out the camera angles because of how cute you look in every one of them.

he definitely gets a bad vibe from rosaria when she hints at the fact that you may be using alchemy against him.

he will defend you and alchemy to his grave!

that one scene where you create a flower in front of you is one he will always treasure.

he makes sure someone clipped that moment just so he can draw that, make it a print, and put it on his wall.

since most of his viewers most likely consist of artists, he will encourage them to draw you and send him fanart. he will put them all on a wall and dedicate every picture that goes there to you.

"if i one day lose control... destroy mondstadt... as well as everything around it..."

"huh?"

"will you be there to stop me?"

"wait... no."

if people were only listening to that portion, they would still be able to hear the pout on his face.

he'll end the game there but change his stream into an impromptu art stream.

he will only be drawing you in nice situations to distract himself from the fact that there is something going on with you.

"hm? what do you mean something's wrong with (name)? i have no idea what you're talking about."

poor boy's in denial...

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skzsauce01 · 3 years ago

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Angel Sent From Up Above

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: Hyunjin, a new guardian angel, has fallen in love with a human. His human’s girlfriend, to be precise. Angel AU, background college AU and skater AU.

Warning: violence

Word Count: 8.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x guardian angel!Hyunjin; fem!reader x human!Jeongin

“Is she healed now?” Hyunjin asks the moment Jisung flies in. He knows Jisung is probably exhausted from keeping maladies away from you, but he needs the answer now. “Is her flu gone?”

“Yeah.” Jisung’s wings are tinged gray with ruin, but he keeps them on display for all the other guardian angels to see as he walks past them. They are proof that he has been doing his duty. They’ll return to white soon enough anyway. “Your human’s her boyfriend. Why didn’t you try to check through him? He visited a few times even though she told him not to.” Jisung sighs and shakes his head. “What an idiot. He’s going to get sick himself.”

“He hasn't visited recently, so I haven’t been able to check through him. The Archangel’s forbade me going to Earth unless it was something serious. I think he’s worried I'm spending too much time with humans.”

Jisung shakes his head. “I think he’s worried that he’s going to have to Seungmin you.”

“I'm not going to get expelled.”

Jisung shrugs, and ruin falls from his wings like ash. “You better watch out. You checked up on her too much last time she got sick, so he's probably trying to make sure you won't abandon your human. He's banished people for less. Case in point: Seungmin.”

“She's important to Jeongin, so she's important to me."

Jisung sighs. “Sometimes I think you’re more protective of her than I am.”

He says it as a joke, but Hyunjin knows it’s the truth. He cares deeply about you, maybe even more than his own human, but he will never say that last part aloud.

Hyunjin used to believe that becoming a guardian angel was the best thing that ever happened to him. All of his afterlife, he had wanted to be promoted, to be granted the pure white wings and the crown of sun rays. Regular angels had wings and halos but never white wings and golden halos; silver and silver was the “regular” combination.

Watching over a human was considered the highest honor an angel could receive, and everyone clamored to gain the attention of the Archangel. Hyunjin was not immune. He worked as a messenger for years, delivering even the most inane notes between the higher ups. He endured the attacks, verbal and sometimes physical, and kept his mouth shut. Eventually, the Archangel recognized his efforts, and before dawn broke on Earth, Hyunjin was named the new guardian angel of a baby boy, Yang Jeongin.

“You will protect him. You will guide him,” the Archangel said. “He is your responsibility now and yours alone. Do you understand?”

From Heaven, Hyunjin could only look at the wet, wrinkled face of his human. His human. “I understand.”

Then the Archangel flew off, and Hyunjin flew to Earth for the first time to meet the baby. No one noticed him as he phased through the hospital walls nor as his giant wings folded back. Only Jeongin would be able to see his guardian angel.

“Hello there, little one,” he whispered to the swaddled baby. The boy was fast asleep, and Hyunjin gently stroked his face. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hyunjin, your official guardian angel. I’ll always be nearby now, and I’ll always make sure you’re safe. Sometimes you won’t be able to see me, but I’ll always be watching over you. I promise.”

Jeongin stirred awake and stared back at Hyunjin. Two sets of eyes blinked at each other, one full of curiosity and one full of tenderness.

“Go back to sleep,” Hyunjin said. He drew his hand over the baby’s face, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered shut. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

Guardian angels talked about their humans like parents, bragging about how gifted they were and sharing complaints about what unbelievable thing they did the other day. Hyunjin mostly did the latter. Jeongin was an adventurous child, which was just a nice way of saying that he liked to play with danger. Hyunjin often had to fly in to save him or to redirect the threat somewhere else. The other angels joked that Hyunjin stayed on Earth more than Heaven sometimes. He didn’t mind though. Even with his human’s shortcomings, Hyunjin adored him. He watched from above as Jeongin said his first words, attended his first day of kindergarten, and got into his first fight.

“He’s a troublemaker,” Minho observed.

Minho was a guardian angel as well, but he tended to lurk on the outer edges of the realm as the other angels avoided him for a reason Hyunjin hadn’t figured out yet. Hyunjin liked him well enough and treated him like a mentor, sometimes a friend.

“Hey, you’re not one to talk. Your human started a black market of candy at school.”

Minho shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Jeongin didn’t end up growing up into a troublemaker, to Hyunjin’s relief. The impulsive streak was still there, but he utilized his judgement more now. There were no car crashes or cases of alcohol poisoning, and when Jeongin asked out girls, it was with daisy bouquets and a suggestion to get lunch. Hyunjin slowly stopped making routine trips to Earth and chose to view Jeongin from the comfort of Heaven. It was there that Hyunjin noticed you.

“I think she’s upset with him,” Jisung abruptly says. “She cried after a video call with him, so if your human starts acting strangely, that’s why.”

The news makes Hyunjin stop mid-step, and he turns to his friend. “She cried? What? What did she cry about?”

“I don’t know. I was too busy trying to lower her temperature. Can you believe that she almost hit—”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I just got back! There is no ‘earlier!’ Besides, we aren't allowed to interfere in anything that isn't dangerous. Heartbreak, if this is even what this is, is temporary."

“Humans do drastic things for love.” The movies has seen while watching Jeongin have told him that much.

“Which we will attend to when it happens. You’re a new guardian; you’ll understand them better over time. Not everything is life-threatening, fragile as they are.”

Hyunjin turns away from Jisung and glances down at Earth. The clouds part, and all of the brick buildings of the university rush towards his eyes as he focuses on Jeongin. He’s asleep at his desk, his lamp still burning bright above him. How long has it been since the video call? Or perhaps he’s just tired from the events of his day. But he looks so small and vulnerable in his chair. Jeongin isn’t fragile — the amount of situations he has gotten out of covered in bruises and blood is astronomical — but he is mortal.

“But she loves him,” Hyunjin softly says, “and he loves her.”

“Exactly. Humans fight over small things all the time, and this is one of those times.” Jisung places a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder to placate him. “Trust me.”

“... I trust you.”

“Good. I need to rest, but we can catch up and see what stupid things they do after.”

The moment Jisung flies off to the rest area, Hyunjin goes against the Archangel’s orders and flies to your apartment. When he peers inside your bedroom window, he spots you sitting in bed in the dark, your phone screen illuminating your face. He phases inside and sits at your desk chair, resting his forearms at the top rail. You can’t see him, but he wishes that you could.

You mindlessly scroll through messages, sniffling every few seconds. Whether it’s from your crying or your illness, he doesn’t know. He can’t hand you a tissue or tell you comforting things or hug you like Jeongin can. When you wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, he wraps his wings around himself as well.

Suddenly you throw your phone beside you and let out a heavy sigh. “It can’t get any worse than this,” you say to yourself.

Hyunjin waits for you to say more, but you only stare at the ceiling with blank eyes. He can’t compel you to talk; only Jisung can, but he’s not here. So instead, Hyunjin knocks over the glass of water on your bed when you shift into a more comfortable position.

“Of course it can,” you sigh again and blot as much water as you can with your tissues. You pull another one out of the box with more force than necessary and furiously dab your sheets. “First I get sick, then I miss a homework deadline that I can’t make up because my professor lost his heart thirty years ago along with his hair, then my boyfriend breaks up with me for like no reason, apparently I have an exam tomorrow, and now I’ve spilled water all over my bed, so I can’t even sleep. Thank you, universe. I really needed this.”

He immediately regrets his decision.

“Worst freaking week of my life,” you mumble as you throw away the wet tissues. Hyunjin almost reaches out for your arm when you pass by, but he retracts it just in time.

When you climb back into bed, you draw your blanket up to your chin and begin murmuring numbers. They come out calm and even at first, but they become more tense as time passes. Hyunjin half-listens as he scans the contents of your desk. A laptop, a shopping bag, an open notebook with doodles on the margins, an uncapped black pen, and a pack of gum. He presses his forefinger to the point of the pen, drawing a tiny heart by touch. Then he stamps the heart among all your misshapen stars and imaginary flowers. You might just think it’s an ink smear, but he hopes you look at it and smile.

You hit three hundred and forty-seven before you begin to sound drowsy. Hyunjin stands at the foot of your bed, watching as you finally drift off in the middle of three hundred and ninety-three. Serenity settles across your features.

“I’m sorry for what I did earlier. Good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers. He pats the corner of your bed before flying off into the night.

He needs to see Jeongin.

It was hard not to notice you when you were on a collision course with Jeongin. You were going too fast, and Hyunjin’s wings couldn’t carry him to Earth in milliseconds. With horror, he watched as you sharply turned the building corner on your skateboard and just barely jumped off in time when you saw Jeongin about to make the same turn.

“You okay?” Jeongin asked as he hurried to stop your runaway board.

“I should be asking you that!” you exclaimed as you followed him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have veered that close to the wall. You’re not hurt or anything, right?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Good. I can’t risk getting sued again.” Unsure of how to respond, Jeongin nudged back your board to you. You neatly stopped it mid-roll with your foot. “Thanks, by the way. See you around.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You kicked off, but before you left the area, you turned around and gave him a wave. Jeongin waved back, albeit more shyly than you. After a moment’s hesitation, he yelled out, “Be careful!”

“I’ll try!”

Jeongin laughed and turned the corner, looking at the brick wall with more wistfulness than most people usually did. Before he entered the building, he peeked around the next corner, as if he expected you to come speeding by again. You didn’t.

After that, he noticed you more often, usually swerving around strangers as you cut through campus. Whenever he had the opportunity to say hello, he did so with a smile, and you returned it with a waggle of your fingers before disappearing into the crowd. Once, you nearly crashed into a railing. You laughed it off and gave him another wave along with a funny face. Hyunjin felt something inside him melt. Jeongin must have too since he headed to his next class with the most lovestruck expression Hyunjin had ever seen on him.

It was then that Jeongin began forming a plan.

Two weeks after the first meeting, Jeongin waited in the quad for you to show up. Just as he hoped, you came walking down the steps fifteen minutes later, skateboard tucked underneath your arm. It was supposed to seem like a coincidence, but Hyunjin had followed Jeongin as he scoured nearby skate spots, asking around about you. Yesterday, he had learned where you liked to practice tricks. He got up from his bench, hands hidden behind his back, and approached you with the same moves and confidence he had rehearsed in the bathroom mirror.

“Hey! How have you been?” he called up from the very bottom.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin groaned. Jisung, who Hyunjin had tracked down two days prior to this, also did so.

“You said he was a charmer,” Jisung complained. “Look at him. He can’t even charm dogs with a treat.”

“For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Just wait though. It’s going to get better.”

Jisung huffed. “It better. She deserves the best.”

Fortunately, you took it all in stride and waved hello at Jeongin. When you were finally beside him, you answered, “I’ve been good, thanks. You’re not here to sue me, right?”

“No! I was actually wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. If you have time, that is.”

“Really? But I almost killed you that one time. I mean, I’d be happy to, but it’s kind of weird after what happened.”

“I’d rather skateboard than walk, and you seem pretty good at it.”

You shifted your weight to one foot, and Hyunjin chuckled when he saw Jeongin’s eyes wander to your jutted-out hip. Jisung made a noise of disapproval.

“Okay, what is this really about?”

“Skateboarding,” Jeongin said. Then he took a step closer and held out a bundle of daisies towards you. “And lunch, if you want.”

You broke out into a grin. “I am a little hungry right now. L/N Y/N, skateboarding extraordinaire and ramen enthusiast, at your service.”

“Yang Jeongin, also a ramen enthusiast. Nice to officially meet you.”

Jeongin is still sleeping at his desk when Hyunjin arrives. He shifts and exhales when the wind from Hyunjin’s wings create a small breeze but does not wake.

“How could you break up with her?” Hyunjin says. “She’s amazing and wonderful, and you decide that you don't want to be with her? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Silence.

“If I were human, I would have never done that, but…”

Jeongin shifts again, burying himself deeper into the crumpled hoodie he’s using as a pillow. The table squeaks, and a mechanical pencil rolls off the desk. Hyunjin quietly places the pencil back to its initial place and shuts off the lamp.

“Take care of yourself, and make good choices, okay? I can’t do that for you.”

Instead of flying back to Heaven, he perches on the roof of the building across from Jeongin’s. Jeongin finally wakes up and notices that his light is off. He glances at it confusedly for a few seconds, wondering if he misremembered leaving it on. In the end, he decides it’s not worth the effort and falls into his bed. He didn’t even spare you a thought, a crime in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Then he realizes he may have a bigger problem on his hands.

Jisung.

Jisung is going to be very upset when he finds out about this.

Over the weekend, you brought Jeongin to the quad to learn the basics.

“Put both feet on the board now,” you said as you walked alongside a skateboarding Jeongin. He was borrowing yours to practice, so he treated it with more reverence than a well-used board would need. Even though he was pushing with his back foot, he was going at a snail’s pace.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m going to lose my balance and fall.”

Perhaps it wasn’t reverence after all.

You shook your head. “No, you won’t. You’re not going that fast anyway. You can just step off if you really feel like you are. Give it a shot.”

To his credit, Jeongin lifted his foot a few centimeters off the ground before planting it back. “I’m going to lose control.”

While you did your best to persuade Jeongin to give it another try, Jisung gave Hyunjin a dissatisfied look. “I remember you telling me he was a daredevil. What is happening?”

He didn’t exactly know either. “He’s in front of his crush; give him a break.”

“These two better not end up dating. She deserves so much better than him.”

Hyunjin gave him a dirty look, Jisung gave him a “What? It’s true” type of a shrug.

You step in front of the board. “How about this?” you said. “You stand on the board with both feet, and I’ll pull you along so you can get used to the feeling and be less of a scaredy cat.”

“Okay.”

You took both of his hands and slowly guided him backwards. At the same time, you instructed him to put more weight on one side to change directions. Jeongin was surprisingly stable, and Hyunjin watched proudly as his human suggested that you increase your speed a little.

“See? It’s not bad?” you said. “Keeping balance isn’t that hard, right?”

“Yeah. Also,” he grinned, his meek demeanor completely gone, “we’re holding hands now.”

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at your joined hands, and you let out a delighted gasp. “You sneaky little—” Much to Jeongin’s alarm, you let go and smirked. “If you go past the bench without constantly pushing, I’ll let you hold my hand when you walk me home.”

“Kind of presumptuous of you to assume that I would offer to walk you home,” he teased, resting one foot on the floor. “Or is that what you want me to do?”

“You asked me to lunch with flowers. You were going to.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Then he kicked off, skating past the bench with ease. Still going, he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Do you want to grab doughnuts before you head home?”

“Watch the lamp!” you yelled as you ran towards him. “Jeongin, stop looking at me and turn around!”

The collision with the lamppost was unavoidable, so Hyunjin simply watched as Jeongin took a flying leap off your board and took a tumble on the concrete. While you fumbled for band aids — Jeongin’s knee was scraped and bloody — Jeongin patted his pockets to check that his phone had not fallen out.

“So doughnuts?” he sheepishly asked.

“Sure. I’ll buy.” You finally found one hidden in the bottom of your backpack along with an alcohol wipe. “Guess you get to hold my hand after all.”

“How are you so prepared?” he asked, nodding to the contents you had unceremoniously dumped out whilst rummaging. “You have tweezers and gauze?”

“My mom made me carry a first-aid kit with me when she found out that I skate to class. It comes in handy.” You ripped open the package. “This might hurt.”

“You can kiss it to feel better.”

You laughed and pressed the alcohol wipe to his knee. “You’re such a flirt, I love it. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, hurts a lot.”

You opted to kiss the band aid instead, causing Jeongin to pout and Jisung to sigh in relief. When you stuck it onto his skin, Jeongin made a big production of being relieved from pain, which made you laugh and shove him.

“No! She’s in love with him,” Jisung groaned. His wings drooped, and Hyunjin swore his halo actually dimmed when you kept your hands in Jeongin’s after you pulled him up. “Well, Hyunjin, looks like you and I are going to be best friends.”

Hyunjin personally saw no issue with that. Like Jeongin, he had been charmed by your antics and your easygoing nature. Protecting his human’s friends, family, or lovers wasn’t part of Hyunjin’s duty, but he felt compelled to watch over you too.

Because if he were human, he would have fallen in love with you too.

In the midst of his lamenting, Jisung flies down and sits beside him on the roof. His wings are still slightly gray, and Hyunjin strangely begins to feel self-conscious of his pure white ones.

“Didn’t the Archangel forbid you from doing frivolous things?” Jisung says in lieu of a greeting. “I saw you at her apartment earlier.”

“I just wanted to check up on her. Not that I thought you lied,” he hastily adds. “I wanted to see for myself. She’s a little… distraught.”

“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. It’s normal.” When Hyunjin doesn’t reply or even make a sound, he grows concerned. “Is it something else? She’s getting sued, isn’t she? I knew it was going to happen someday. When I find that smug richie-rich, I’m going to—”

“Jeongin broke up with her.”

“What.”

Hyunjin repeats his sentence, trying to block the view of Jeongin’s bedroom with his body. Jisung looks like he’s ready to rain judgement onto him, and while Hyunjin is rather good at his job, he’s not sure if he can hold back an enraged guardian angel. Jisung takes several deep breaths before regaining the little composure he can muster.

“I knew I hated him for a reason. I knew he didn’t deserve her,” he spits out, though the venom in his voice wavers. “Why would he even break up with her? She loved him so much.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “That’s what I want to find out.”

“When you find out, let me know. I’m going to see her now.”

Hyunjin stays on the roof until sunrise. Jeongin sleeps without any trouble, and when he wakes up, he looks fresh-faced, no guilt hanging over his head. Hyunjin feels something inside him cracking apart.

You truly don’t deserve this.

“Do you think they’re going to crash and burn?” Jisung asked as he studied you and Jeongin walking through the park, practically glued to each other’s sides. “I think they’re moving too fast. It’s only been a month.”

Hyunjin really didn’t care about that. As long as you and Jeongin were happy, he was happy. “A month is a pretty long time for them. Mortal lives are short.”

“Exactly. They should be more selective about their life choices.”

Hyunjin only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. You were pointing at the tiny carousel in the middle and tugging at Jeongin’s sleeve. You dragged him over and pushed a coin into the slot for the ride. The lights lit up and a carnival theme played while you struggled to wedge yourself between the saddle of an elephant and the roof of the carousel. Jeongin sat on the edge, beside the tiger, and chuckled at your flailing limbs.

Hyunjin suppressed his own laugh. You were something special. Just last week, the two of you had made it official and started dating. You had done it in the sweetest possible way.

You had taken him to a local skateboarding shop to help him pick out his first board. Once he had chosen one — the ‘one’ being a light blue deck patterned with multicolored doughnuts — the staff at the shop sent him to the back to try it out. Meanwhile, you made the age-old excuse of needing to use the restroom when you were actually getting the flowers you had hidden in the back.

Hyunjin had turned into a pile of fluff when you gave Jeongin the daisy bouquet and asked if he wanted to officially be your boyfriend. You were so earnest. Jeongin playfully pretended to think it over, a feat Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t have been able to do if he were in his position. There were no fireworks or confetti when Jeongin finally said yes, but the staff did clap and cheer. Jisung looked on with contempt. Hyunjin looked on with envy.

“You know,” Jisung abruptly said, snapping Hyunjin back to the present, “when her last boyfriend broke up with her, she had ice cream for dinner for a week.”

“Oh.”

“You see why I’m being wary of him now?”

Hyunjin did, but Jeongin was different. His previous relationships always ended well, and on one occasion, he remained friends with his ex. He sighed and decided that a change of topic was necessary so he wouldn’t have to potentially endure a tirade. “Did you hear about Minho’s human? The bank he worked at got robbed, and he got held at gunpoint.”

That caught the overprotective Jisung’s ear. “What? Is he okay?”

During Hyunjin’s recountment of Minho’s recountment, the carousel ride ended. You squeezed out of your spot, hitting your head on the roof, and Jeongin pulled you in for a forehead kiss. The world grew brighter when you smiled, he realized.

Hyunjin shadows Jeongin around all day, hoping to learn the reason for the breakup. Unfortunately, Jeongin doesn’t say anything. He does show some regret though, as he scrolls through past messages and old pictures. When he heads to classes, he opts to walk instead of skateboarding like usual and avoids the quad whenever possible.

In the evening, while Jeongin is chewing on his salad like a cow to cud, Hyunjin pays you a visit. He finds in the freezer section of the grocery store with three pints of ice cream in your basket. From the looks of it, you’re about to add another three to your haul. Peanut butter pretzel sounds equal parts delicious and confusing.

Hyunjin studies your expression, frowning at the same time you do. Your eyes are ringed with red, your jaw tight, and your eyebrows seem permanently furrowed. When he follows you back home, he half expects you to start crying on the way, but you hold fast and manage to open a pint of the salted caramel flavor before the tears finally come. There’s no wailing, just sniffling and the sound of you furiously wiping at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. In the midst of it all, you find the strength to reorganize the freezer to make space for the other pints. Something about that makes Hyunjin’s heart drop.

By the time your roommate discovers you in the kitchen, the entire refrigerator has been reorganized and the ice cream finished. You sit in a dark room, your finger hovering above the ‘SEND’ button of a message to Jeongin. Hyunjin can see it if he flies above you: “Can you please just tell me why? You keep saying you did something wrong, but I don’t even know what it is. Please let me decide if it’s worth breaking up over.”

“Rough day?” she gently asks as she flips on the switch.

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe tomorrow. I just wanna process it right now,” you hollowly say. You grab your skateboard — the same black, paint-splattered one you had last year — and unlock the front door. “I’m going out for a ride, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Stay safe.”

After you leave, Jisung phases through the kitchen walls and hisses at Hyunjin, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Jeongin?”

He nearly forgot about him. Eating dinner isn’t a dangerous task anyway though. Besides, if Jeongin does get physically harmed somehow, Hyunjin will feel an echo of the pain. Hyunjin glances at the door, and Jisung shakes his head.

“I’ll take care of her. Go back to Jeongin, and make sure he’s okay. You can’t keep leaving him all the time.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good.”

Hyunjin reluctantly goes back to Jeongin, who is still eating his salad. His resolve from last night is clearly gone as evidenced by his melancholy expression as he scrolls through even more photos. The one of you in mid-air makes him clutch his phone.

“Let me get one of you when you’re really high up,” Jeongin suggested. He was comfortable gliding around on a skateboard now, but nowhere comfortable enough to try any tricks. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from trying to get him to learn. The “pop shove it” was your favorite, solely for the amount of height you could get.

“Okay.”

As you did over and over again for your enthusiastic boyfriend who was unfortunately not that great of a photographer, Hyunjin observed from a rooftop behind Jeongin. Sometimes you looked like you were flying. He could imagine wings protruding from your back, and if the sun hit you just right, there appeared to be a halo as well.

“I got one!” Jeongin exclaimed as he held up his device to you. “Look.”

Hyunjin couldn’t see for himself, but your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ once you took a first glance. A flustered smile made its way onto your face, and everything about you turned soft.

“This looks amazing,” you said. You sidled up to him and rested your cheek against his shoulder, turning your head towards him. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air for a few seconds as both Hyunjin and Jeongin tried to process them. This was the first time you had ever said them, and it came seemingly out of nowhere. Hyunjin recovered first.

“Say ‘I love you’ back, you moron,” Hyunjin whispered, like Jeongin would be able to hear him from this distance. “‘I love you too.’”

“I wanted to say it first,” Jeongin finally said. “Ugh, I had it all planned out too. We were supposed to get doughnuts after this, and I was going to buy you one of those heart-shaped ones.”

You kissed him on the cheek and intertwined your fingers with his. “We can still do that.”

At the doughnut shop, he said the words second, and you kissed him again, leaving a crystal of glaze on the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin licked his lips as if you had left it on him instead.

“Did you find out?” Jisung asks when Hyunjin leaves Jeongin to check up on you. You’re skating around the city, making sharp swerves and weaving in-between lampposts. Jisung is trailing behind you in the sky, but he slows when he sees Hyunjin approaching.

“No, but—”

“Then go back to him. Hyunjin,” Jisung sighs, “I know you care about her, but she’s not your human. Jeongin’s your responsibility.”

“I know but—”

“Go back. And I’m telling you this not as your friend but as your senior. You’re a guardian angel, and you need to take your responsibilities seriously. I’ll get the Archangel involved if I have to. Do you want to get Seungminned?”

The threat of the Archangel strangely doesn’t scare him anymore, however. In fact, the Archangel being involved may solve many of his current issues.

“I’ll find you again when I find out,” Hyunjin slowly says.

Jisung nods in approval before racing after you again. Hyunjin heads to Heaven, not to keep an eye over his human but to become human.

Ten months into Jeongin’s relationship with you, Hyunjin asked Minho, “Is it possible to give up your divinity?”

Minho gave Hyunjin a curious look. “Is being a guardian angel that taxing for you? You haven’t even experienced a full lifespan yet. I know, twenty year-olds are annoying, but it’s not nearly as bad as forty year-olds and their mid-life crisis.”

“I’m just curious. Or, as a last resort,” he added, hoping that Minho would stop being suspicious if he joked about it. “My human’s been making some dumb choices.”

A lie, but Minho fell for it.

“I told you he was going to be a troublemaker!” he cackled. He sympathetically patted Hyunjin’s back. “If I’m being honest, I thought about it a few times. I always get assigned to the troublemakers. Probably because the higher-ups hate me for not tolerating their BS. They’re always playing favorites. Anyway, the easiest way is to get expelled by the Archangel. It’s happened a few times before.”

“Can’t you just ask him?”

Minho smirked. “You don’t think other angels have tried that? He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. It’s supposed to be a punishment.”

“What’s the hard way then?”

“Same thing minus the Archangel getting involved: your wings getting cut off,” he matter-of-factly answered. “The halo will break once your wings are detached. It’s only been done once, by the way.”

Hyunjin absentmindedly rubbed the area where the bones of his wings met with his shoulder blades. All he needed were two clean cuts across his practically impenetrable back.

“How do you do that?”

“With the Archangel’s sword. Another angel has to cut it though; you can’t do it yourself.”

The Archangel would likely banish him to Hell for even asking about his weapon. If Hyunjin ever did manage to steal the sword away, Jisung would never agree to it. He couldn’t just ask any angel to help him.

“How do you know about all this?” Hyunjin asked.

Minho hesitated, something he rarely did. He quickly recovered, hiding his sudden apprehension with his usual devil-may-care nonchalance. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. The word hung in the air like the sun, and Hyunjin knew that Minho would tell him because underneath all of his bluster was loneliness. Because no one liked Minho, or if they did, they still avoided him anyway.

“Yeah, we are,” Minho answered, smiling for a second before a strange expression crossed over his face, pride mixed with a touch of sadness. “Do you really think the Archangel would have expelled one of his favorite guardian angels that easily?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Seungmin. He asked me to cut his wings for him.”

“I need you to cut my wings,” are Hyunjin’s first words to Minho after not speaking to him for days.

To his credit, Minho is only speechless for a few seconds. The dove in his hand pecks at him for more headpats before he recovers. “Well, do you have the sword?”

“No, but I think I can get it. When I do though, would you do it? You’re the only one I trust.”

Minho sighs and tosses the bird out of Heaven, grimacing a bit when he hears it squawk. When he faces Hyunjin, he smiles the same smile he did when he talked about Seungmin. “It’s always me, huh? I’ll do you one better. I’ll steal the sword for you. The Archangel’s been pissing me off anyway.”

For once, Hyunjin’s thoughts are not on you but his friend. He imagined that Minho would be willing, but perhaps he’s too willing. “Are you trying to get expelled as well? We can go together.”

“No, I like being immortal. I hate all of the BS I get put through sometimes, but the Archangel can’t kick me out. He swore an oath to me a long time ago before he got promoted, and it’s pretty much unbreakable. Besides, even Heaven needs a scapegoat.”

That explains why virtually no angels interact with Minho, Hyunjin being the exception. He has never heard of the Archangel being oathsworn, though it seems likely that the Archangel wants to keep that a secret.

“How are you going to get it?” Hyunjin asks. “How did Seungmin even get it? The Archangel always has it with him.”

“Seungmin was one of his favorites,” Minho reminds him. “He had easy access to him, and the Archangel trusted him enough to let him borrow it for ‘a study.’ Don’t worry about me though. Just wait for me on Earth. Somewhere where no one goes. I’ll find you, slice off your wings, and the Archangel won’t even know what happened to you.”

“That’s not possible. He always keeps it on him.”

Minho shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. “I’ve done it before. Why do you think I’m the scapegoat?”

Seungmin. For Minho and now Hyunjin, being Seungminned didn’t mean being expelled for being frivolous anymore; it meant leaving of your own accord.

“What happened to him?” Hyunjin asked. “Why didn’t the Archangel grant his divinity back? Someone should have spotted him on Earth.”

Minho’s wry grin was back. “You think the Archangel wanted everyone to find out the golden boy of Heaven no longer wanted to be an angel? Plenty of angels already saw him roaming Earth. It was easier to let everyone think that Seungmin was banished. So when they saw him on Earth, he was just a fallen angel, nothing important.” He nudged Hyunjin’s arm, and the solemn atmosphere vanished. “A troublemaking human isn’t all that bad. Like I said, the twenties are annoying, but they’re manageable. Is he one of those partying types?”

“He goes out sometimes,” Hyunjin carefully replied. Jeongin liked hanging out with his friends and you — mostly you, now that Hyunjin thought about it — but he wasn’t getting blackout drunk every night. At least, Hyunjin hoped he wasn’t. He usually watched over you if you were ever in the vicinity. “Speaking of which, I should check up on him.”

Minho said his goodbyes, and Hyunjin flew back to Earth once he saw that you weren’t with Jeongin. You were studying at your desk, rolling a pen between your fingers, reading through a document on your laptop. The desk light casted a warm glow on your face. You frowned, and your lower lip swelled outwards.

He wished he were human.

Just as Minho said, Hyunjin waits for him to arrive in a secluded part of the university campus. The building rooftop is devoid of anyone, and the area surrounding it is empty as well. The evening turns into night, then night into the early morning when the sky begins lightening. Still, Minho has not come.

He distantly wonders how Jeongin is faring and his promise to Jisung. When he’s human, he’ll ask Jeongin directly, maybe in disguise of a survey: “Why did you break up with your last partner?” Even to him, it sounds stupid. However, that’s not the real reason why he’s giving up his divinity, so it hardly matters to him. Jisung is resourceful; he’ll find out eventually.

Finally, when the sun peeks over the horizon, Minho descends from Heaven, a familiar silver sword in his hand. He lands beside Hyunjin, a triumphant smile on his face. But his usual humor has been replaced with solemnity.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks as he rests the blade on the top of Hyunjin’s wings.

He has never felt so sure of anything in his life. “Yes.”

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Then make it quick.”

Searing pain shoots through his body as the sword pierces through the thin skin and into the bone. The process is not as nearly as seamless as Hyunjin hoped it would be, and Minho breathes heavily as he pushes the blade down. Bones snap, feathers drift to the floor, and blood trickles down his back. The pain only grows greater near the end, but Hyunjin grits his teeth and keeps quiet. Dawn breaks when his wings finally fall to the floor, no longer white but splattered with red. Soon they fade into dust, and the remnants scatter into the wind. His golden halo shatters into sunlight. The world dulls as the last of his powers disappear, but everything feels much better than when he was an angel.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Minho, who he cannot even look at anymore. His eyes would be burned.

“You’re fallen, not quite mortal and not quite divine. You won’t be affected by all of an angel’s power.”

When Hyunjin cautiously glances at him, Minho waves the bloody sword at him. “See?”

“Yeah.” He wanted humanity, but this is good enough for him. He just needs you to be able to see him, hear him, touch him.

“I need to go back before Heaven becomes Hell, but find Seungmin if you can. He can help you figure things out. Last I heard, he’s living somewhere in the mountains.”

“Thank you,” he repeats. “Minho, I can’t even put it into words about how much this means to me. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Minho pats his shoulder before stripping off his clean shirt. “Clean yourself before you leave. No one wants to witness a walking crime scene this early in the morning.”

When he flies back to Heaven, the last thing Hyunjin sees are his wings, still pure white.

“Hey,” you said as you laced your fingers with Jeongin’s. He had just finished class, and you had waited for him outside the building. Hyunjin had sat on the other end of the bench, savoring the proximity. That was the closest he would ever get to you. “Are you busy tonight? The skate shop just announced — literally an hour ago, those jerks — that they were doing a midnight drop, and I kind of want a new deck.”

“Ugh, I’ve been meaning to buy new trucks, but I have to meet up with my group tonight. Send me pictures though.”

Disappointment only momentarily flooded through Hyunjin. If it was anything like the last two meetups, it would be at the library, and the library was a safe place. Jeongin would be fine there. Hyunjin would be free to shadow you as you went to the skate shop.

“I can get it for you,” you offered.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. Maybe I’ll just wait for a sale.”

“Don’t be surprised if I do get you new trucks,” you warned. You let go of his hand and held his arm. “I still owe you for last month’s dinner.”

Jeongin shook his head again, a smile making its way onto his face. “You don’t owe me anything but a kiss.”

“Flirt,” you laughed as you pressed your lips to his cheek. “Never change, Yang Jeongin.”

That night at the skate shop, Hyunjin hovered above you as you stood in line, chatting with others. There were no unscrupulous characters around, but he stayed with you, only going back to Jeongin when Jisung insisted. However, by then, Hyunjin had already seen you eyeing the shiny teal trucks through the window. Hyunjin knew nothing about skateboards even after all those months, but you seemed pleased by them.

“You’re only getting trucks for sure?” your brand new acquaintance asked. “This is, like, the biggest drop they’ve ever done.”

You shrugged. “I’m kind of on the fence about the decks I saw on the email. I don’t know. Maybe wheels too?”

Meanwhile, Jisung hissed, “Hyunjin, go before something happens. What if a fight breaks out?”

Hyunjin sincerely doubted that one would happen at the library. He lingered around, taking his time unfolding his wings and stretching them.

“Your boyfriend’s lucky,” your acquaintance sighed.

“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”

Daisies, that’s what he needs right now. Choosing the rooftop of a building was not a smart decision, but the access door is thankfully unlocked, and Hyunjin races down all of the emergency stairs. However, with no form of currency on him, Hyunjin heads to the quad, hoping that he can pull up some dandelions for you. You need to be supported, and bright yellow flowers are just the thing.

What he doesn’t expect though, is to find you doing pop shove its at your usual spot. It’s so early in the day; did you even go back to your apartment to sleep?

“Good morning,” he calls as he walks closer. He waves at you, and you can see him! You tentatively wave back and give him a halfhearted smile. “How are you today? You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, and I’m fine,” you politely reply as you take a step back away from him. “What about you?”

Hyunjin curses in his head and takes another step towards you. “I’m good. Really good, actually. I was wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. I’m new here, and skateboarding seems like an efficient way to get around.”

You flinch at his words, and he desperately wants to take them back. How did Jeongin do it? Why do his statements come out so stiff? “You seem pretty good at it.”

“Are you not cold?” you blurt out. Hyunjin curses again as he realizes that he’s shirtless. His old one was stained, and Minho’s was as well as the result of his cleanup. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “You know, I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you.”

“Hyunjin. My name’s Hyunjin.”

“Nice meeting you, Hyunjin.”

You grab your board and immediately head off to the direction of your apartment. Hyunjin is tempted to follow, but he stays where he is. A bad first impression isn’t the end of the world. The only thing holding him back is his lack of a shirt.

He wanders through the quad, scanning the grass for some flowers. Most of them are the white, fluffy dandelions, but he needs the bright yellow version. However, he takes the white ones anyway in case he can’t find any. The wind scatters the seeds, and he—

“Hyunjin, I told you not to come back.”

Jisung.

Hyunjin turns around, dropping his bouquet onto the ground. To his horror, not only is Jisung present but also the Archangel. His sword is strapped to his side like usual, not a blood splatter tainting it. Minho did an excellent job of cleaning up the crime scene.

“Jisung, Archangel,” Hyunjin nervously greets. The Archangel frightens him now. “How can I help you?”

“Jisung, why did you bring me here?” the Archangel asks. “I have other things to attend to.”

“He’s abandoned his human too many times, and I don’t think he’s fit to be a guardian angel anymore.”

The Archangel grasps the hilt of his sword and studies Hyunjin, up and down, back and forth. He circles him, and Hyunjin can almost feel his mortality-divinity shining through his body. Jisung hasn’t noticed yet, but there is no doubt the Archangel hasn’t.

“Normally,” the Archangel begins, “the punishment for not fulfilling your duties as a guardian angel is being expelled from Heaven. But you have already fallen.”

“What?” comes Jisung’s shocked voice.

“It was a mistake,” Hyunjin tries. Minho’s words ring in his ear: He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. “I thought I wanted humanity, but I’ve realized that being a guardian angel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please. Grant me my divinity back. I will never abandon my human again. I will swear an oath if I have to.”

The Archangel smiles with no teeth, and a chill runs down Hyunjin’s spine. “I’m in a forgiving mood today, so I will do just as you ask. Your divinity will be granted back, but you will no longer be a guardian angel. I’m stripping you of those powers and those duties. You will be replaced immediately. It was my mistake for tasking you with such a large responsibility when you weren’t ready yet.”

With just a snap of the Archangel’s fingers, Hyunjin’s senses sharpen, and the world comes hurtling at him. Nothing is dull anymore, but everything feels so dark and wrong. You will never be able to see him, hear him, or talk to him again. And he will never be able to either. Power surges inside of him, and new wings burst through his shoulder blades, fanning out once they reappear. A silver halo hangs over his head. There is no physical pain into becoming immortal again, yet he wishes there was something. Everything he and Minho did was erased with ease.

Hyunjin swallows the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he chokes out.

“You’re very welcome. Come along now. Only guardian angels are allowed to be on Earth.”

Hyunjin follows the Archangel back to Heaven while Jisung goes after you. The Archangel loudly deliberates on who he should be replaced with, and Hyunjin knows that his request was not granted with kindness. The Archangel informs that he will be a messenger again. Hyunjin barely hears him as he takes one last look at Earth. Jeongin is there. Jisung is there. You are there.

Hyunjin avoids Minho’s eyes as he flies inside the realm behind the Archangel and hides among the rest of the regular angels until he is called to send a message. The higher-ups recognize him, make snide remarks about his demotion, and make pitiful faces at him. He barely registers them. There is a hollowness in him, and no matter how many memories he recalls, it isn’t enough to fill the void.

A few weeks later, Jisung approaches him, but even he stays a healthy distance away. “Hyunjin.” The disdain is clear.

“Jisung.”

“You knew about the reason all along, didn’t you? You were there when it happened.”

“When what happened?”

Realization dawns upon Jisung, and he shakes his head in disgust. “I should have known. You weren’t with him that night because you left him like you always did! You could have done something. Make him fall off his chair or something. Make the girl lose her balance. Instead, both of our humans suffered because you weren’t there.”

“What happened?”

“A girl from his group project randomly kissed him, and he thought he had been leading her on and cheating on his own girlfriend, so he broke up with her because he thought that would be the right thing to do instead of just telling her what actually happened. They’re back together now because he finally got the nerve to give her closure. It took nearly a month. They were miserable for a month. All because of you.”

It stings. “They’re okay now, right?”

“They’re fine, no thanks to you.” Just when Hyunjin thinks he’s going to leave, he takes a step forward, lips curled into sneer. “You know, angels and humans aren’t allowed to be with each other. It’s been forbidden for millenia.”

“I know,” he whispers. “But I loved her, and I had to try.”

“She would have never chosen you anyway.”

He never had a chance, did he?

~ ad.gray

Yes, you did! I remembered it and wondered if you were going to come back! Hope you enjoyed this! <3

#stray kids #skz #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids angst #skz angst #hyunjin angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #guardian angel au #anniversary special #20210816

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my2phetaliaheadcanons · 3 years ago

Note

So on the one ask about the yandere marriage. What would happen if the same characters darling escaped and actually tried fighting back? Probably won’t work out but they tried.

You are correct, darling tried. But it didn’t work, and lead to some harsh consequences.

Germany – The sweet and outgoing nature of his kitten made her seem docile. Luther didn’t count on her claws coming out when she was cornered.

Luther’s love for his kitten will cause him to gloss over her rough behavior at first. Every protest would be seen as a concern that could be swept under the rug. Yelling and screaming would be a lover’s quarrel. It wasn’t until her hand hit his face that Luther would realize that harsher methods would be needed.

Luther’s methods would start off simple, leaving Kitten in a sealed room for a day or two. Each time-out session’s length would be based on what the actions of rebellion would be. After trying this for a couple of months, and reaching isolation periods of two weeks, or having a weapon drawn on him, Luther would up the intensity.

Instead of just isolation, it would start to include chains, starvation, and darkness. These restrictions could eventually break Kitten down to the point of submission. If she hadn’t won Luther’s trust through fake affections and obedience first.

She would either escape through an open window or convince Luther to get extremely intoxicated to the point of passing out. At that point, she could walk right out the front door.

Once Luther realizes what happens, Kitten had better pray that she stays ahead. Luther’s methods are reminiscent of a hunting dog. Persistent and willing to use the pack. If Luther couldn’t find her within three days, then he’s calling the other axis members. More than likely, the help of the other members will corner Kitten quickly.

After she is found, Luther doesn’t wait. He swoops in the second she is away from witnesses and knocks her out. All Kitten manages to squeak out is a “Luther!” and then it's dark.

When she awakens, all she can feel is pain. Luther broke her dominant leg, and though it was well wrapped, she noticed a couple of other new things. The chains that once wrapped only around her ankles became a harness. It's not cutting off circulation, but it was tight. The room she’s in is small, stone, and cold. The only light in the room came from the crack in the door.

This would be the punishment for escape. Luther had been worried and at least this way he knows where she is. Maybe on their five-year anniversary, she could come out.

Sweden – Hustru was a ray of sunshine. Beautiful, bright, and also hot. Not just in terms of attractiveness, her warm cherry attitude would easily change to a blistering fury. This was amusing to Bernard, despite being from an area known for chills, this heat was welcoming.

Going the route of a true yandere, Bernard would hide you away, his logic would be that all newlyweds need some time. Though since it was done with approval from both of their bosses, it would not be in one of his unknown places, rather a newer and known spot, one designed just for her. It would be a simple house, out in the foggy Swedish forest. The outside would be reminiscent of a by-gone area, but the inside would be a mix of modern and medieval.

Bernard thought she enjoyed it until she started to fight against his ‘simple’ rules. Things like yelling and screaming would be funny to him. It was showing Bernard a side that he hadn’t yet witnessed, and he enjoyed that. Each action of rebellion would be recorded by him with joy. Until that is, hustru decided to get physical.

Bernard, like Luther, is fine with backtalk. Physical fighting though is a sign of distrust and the breakdown of his bond with his hustru. At this, hustru would be restrained and with his silver tongue, he would talk her out of attacking. His voice would sound joyful, but his eyes would communicate anything but that.

That would be her only warning. If hustru would attempt another attack, Bernard wouldn’t hesitate to break a limb. This should quell her fire for a time, and at that moment Bernard would coo at her. A sweet voice asking how she could be so clumsy, and how she should allow Bernard to take care of it.

Eventually, it would reach the boiling point she would make a break for it. Bernard would have been waiting for this moment. After all, he already takes people to his home, Bernard knows that it's only a matter of time before they run.

He would follow behind slowly, fully understanding what she would be looking for in an escape route. Each turn hustru would make, she could hear Bernard taunting her and making false promises. Whether or not hustru would realize it, Bernard would be herding her like a ewe to the slaughterhouse.

Bernard would end the chase by cornering hustru. It would either be by a cliff or a lake. Her look of panic would thrill Bernard, and he would descend upon her like a wolf. Their struggle would last until Bernard could give either a hard blow to the back of her head, chokehold, or hold her head in the water.

Holding her now unconscious body close, Bernard would take her away. She would not return to the nice home in the Swedish forest but instead would find herself in an unfamiliar place. It was Sweden’s oldest and best-hidden spot.

This one is underground and like a hobbit hole. Though the inside is much bigger and maze-like. Hustru will never find the door, but Bernard will always be there to give her affection.

Russia – Viktor knew marriage was an adjustment for both the husband and the wife. They were living together for the first time, and that meant getting used to each other’s constant presence. Well, at least for родная, since Viktor knew everything about her. Though, he was reaching the end of his patience with her insults.

Viktor would be willing to turn a blind eye to any rebellion for about a week or two. As I said, marriage is an adjustment, and he would be willing to give родная some time. After that period, and if she is still fighting their love, then Viktor sees reason to correct the bad behavior.

As a yandere Viktor is fine with the occasional comment. Should родная do it more often than that, or attempt to lay it on thick Viktor is gonna act. His punishments are always smart and calculating with the purpose of ensuring submission. It starts simple; restricting her time outside the home and the disappearance of specific privileges. Things like entertainment and basic comforts are the first to go. As time goes on, and if she chooses to escalate her acts, then it's only gonna get worse.

Physical attacks lead to periods of isolation, additional housework, and prevention of sleep. These three together would make it easier for Viktor to shape her behaviors and throughout ask her specific questions to see how she is coming along. If родная is smart enough, she will submit quickly to avoid seeing how far he is willing to take this.

If родная should escape, she then there must be an insurance that Viktor is not home. Once out of the home, then she has no choice but to take the alleyways. Viktor’s men are well-rounded and without a doubt one of them is well versed in hacking. Once found, whether it be via a security camera, or through the use of documents, Viktor will bring her home.

It won’t be a pretty moment. One, it would be in public and there would be screaming and begging. Two, no one would help, mainly because Viktor would appear not only her husband but provide papers to make it seem like she had some illness that required guardianship.

In the end, she’s in a basement tied to a chair. From there Viktor would work once again with his previous taming methods, this time though he would make sure it sticks.

England – Oliver was quite pleased on their wedding day. It was beautiful and perfect, but the events since that wonderful day have been troubling to him. His sweet little Dearie appeared to not be adjusting well to married life, but he’s got the tools to help.

Oliver has always had a need for control, and after the American Revolution, it had gotten worse. When Dearie fights, it’s almost like a flashback for him. He doesn’t handle it well, Oliver is willing to give a warning, after all, it is his wife. Though after not only having his warning ignored but receiving back-to-back threats and the claims that he is a monster, Oliver decides that his wife needs lessons on how to be a lady and housewife.

These lessons range from proper posture and basic manners to tea ceremonies and fancy dances. The length and frequency of the lessons depend on the severity of her crimes. Which to Oliver, each is extremely severe and must be taught out of his sweet little dearie.

For each lesson, Oliver has an enchanted device. For posture, a corset with celestial bronze and white silk. Each attempt of slouching or relaxing causes it to tighten like a python with a rabbit in its coils. Dance lessons involve iron shoes, not only do they burn when the dancing stops, but they can only be removed by Oliver. These are just two of many that he has.

Her escape would not be easy. Oliver’s flying bunnies, Chocolate and Strawberry would always be nearby. Waiting and ready to report. Her best chance of escape would be a moment of pure chaos. Whether she caused it or she had been blessed with it, this would be her only chance of escape.

Once he realizes that she had run away, Oliver would open his dreaded spellbook. The magic would flit and fly around him as he reads various spells. Creatures of all kinds would be summoned and with the leadership of his bunnies, they would spread across the land like the shadows that appear with the setting sun.

Eventually, she would be found. Caught and dragged away by the various shadows Dearie thought she had escaped.

Once Oliver had her back in his arms, an enchantment would be placed. Nothing too harmful, just something that would bind their souls together. Forever.

#2p headcanons #2p hetalia #2p england #2p russia #2p sweden #2p germany #yandere hetalia #yandere

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auroracalisto · 4 years ago

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in life and death

summary: in the events of dark phoenix, the reader is reunited with her twin brother charles, even though she tried her hardest to stay away from him after their mother sent her away and explained to charles that she had died, all the while trying to not let erik freak out when he realizes that he is, indeed, in love with someone else related to charles.

pairing: erik lehnsherr x female reader, twin! charles x twin! reader

word count: 2k words

warnings: canon divergence, reader is charles twin (i said she vaguely looks like him, but i don’t describe any physical appearance other than that), cussing, typical jean grey shit, not any actual violence, sibling banter towards the end, lots of death mentions, usage of mutation abilities (reader is able to manipulate anatomy, and in a way, place “blocks” in people’s minds for certain things, therefore manipulating their anatomy to block off certain parts of their memories), abusive relationship with reader’s mother in this for sure, talks of funeral and gravestone.

a/n: i still haven’t watched dark phoenix so i took some creative liberty and loosely read the wikipedia page. also, this was written as a request for @nuclearpizza84. i hope you enjoy :) if it’s not to your liking, please be sure to let me know and i’ll see what i can do!

The red haired woman had just appeared, introducing herself as Jean Grey. Erik immediately welcomed her into your home, without batting an eye your way. An uneasy feeling washed throughout your body, but you thought nothing of it until Jean started asking Erik for his help—that she had once again done something bad, and she didn’t know how to fix it.

Your fingers tapped repeatedly on your leg as you watched Erik from where you sat. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” you mumbled, watching him. Erik always tended to help any of those who came to his door. While not necessarily a bad thing, sometimes it was. With times like this, you knew that there was something wrong.

Jean knew what you were thinking—your discomfort with her was practically radiating off of your body. But she didn’t care. She didn’t come here for your help. She didn’t even know who you were, other than the fact that you looked strangely similar to Professor Xavier. She had come for Erik, knowing that in the past, he had been rogue himself and had dealt with Charles. She had nowhere else to go, other than Genosha. The only place where mutants could go for refuge, if they were running from even the school.

Erik sighed softly at you. He reached over and gently took your hand. “I know Jean. I’m going to help her,” he said. “I’ve no reason to turn her away.”

You just nodded, casting a glance towards the woman. Nothing more was said between you and your fiancée. You just watched, listening to them talk. Jean kept looking in your direction, and you didn’t quite understand why. Perhaps it was best that Charles did not know where you were—then, people like Jean wouldn’t come knocking on your door, asking for your brother’s help when you hadn’t been around him in years. You stayed in your mind for some time, eventually standing up to go and sit your glass of water back in the kitchen.

That was, until the sound of helicopters came from outside of your home. You tensed. That didn’t happen often, unless something was wrong. You looked straight at Jean.

“What are they here for?” you asked the woman.

She didn’t answer, going to the door. She opened it up, looking at what was going on. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Erik,” you spoke, walking over to your lover.

The speaker attached to one of the helicopters, proclaiming that Jean needed to peacefully surrender—or else, of course, they would use force.

When Jean attacked, you knew it was over. Erik wouldn’t help—something that you were hoping would happen, but you never knew how soon it would have happened. Fate just seemed to be on your side at that moment, but you knew that it was only a matter of time before Erik decided to uproot you and return to America, helping your brother out with yet another deadly endeavor—even if Erik had no idea that the two of you were actually related. With your ability, you had made it to where Charles would not recognize you, and you made sure that Erik would never be able to make out the similarities that you and your twin shared. It was only right—after years of your brother believing you were dead; you did not want to bring that raining down on his shoulders.

—

The news reached the mutant refuge, and Erik did not talk to you for some time. Raven was dead, and she had been killed by Jean herself. Erik was angry. He had once loved Raven—you knew of this. It wasn’t hard to see how he still cared for his friend, especially in a moment like this. Who wouldn’t still care for someone they spent so long with? You understood where his anger came from, and you stayed there, waiting for him to say something to you—anything.

In his fit of rage, Erik looked you dead in the eye. “I’ll kill her.”

You parted your lips to talk, but you didn’t know what to say that would calm him. You reached out and took his hand. “We can’t go alone. You saw how powerful she was…”

There was no point in trying to stop him. Once Erik had something in his mind, it took him a long time to detach himself from it.

“That’s fine by me,” he snarled, taking in a deep breath. “Pack a bag. We’re leaving, tonight.”

—

Being surrounded by other mutants, you never once thought that you would have to look out for familiar faces. But Charles stood there, trying to stop people from fighting.

“There is no point in it,” you heard him say from a distance. “You’re only hurting yourselves by fighting each other.”

You scoffed. He was always like that—even when you were children.

That being said, it had been years since you last saw him. The mental block you applied to him made it to where he would never be able to recognize you as his sister.

At a young age, your mother had split the two of you apart, recognizing that two children exactly alike had not been something she wanted. So, she kept the boy, and got rid of the girl, quickly explaining to Charles that his sister was dead. But now, standing there, you wondered why he never came to find you. You were obviously alive, and you knew you weren’t making it easy on him—but why in the world had he never even tried?

Charles never once came to Erik, asking for help to find you. You were alive and well, that much was given. A part of you also remembered how your mother was. It was likely that she decided to make things easier on Charles and instead of saying she just gave you away, you had died. In a moment of self-pity, you wondered if your mother had made you a fake grave. Maybe you should visit it one day, see if Charles visited it often.

Erik had long run inside the building that Jean had ran into earlier. Charles had tried to talk some sense into him, but to no avail.

And for a moment, you felt your block on Charles slipping. You were tired. And the fact that you were so close to him did not help. Your block was breaking. His eyes locked with yours and immediately, he recognized you. Of course, he did.

“Oh shit,” you breathed out.

“[Your name]?” Charles blinked slowly, staring at you in disbelief. “How are you here? What—”

“Don’t.”

“What—what do you mean, don’t? How are you here? I’ve—you’re dead,” he squeezed his eyes shut.

You sighed softly. “I’m very much alive, Charles.”

“But mother said—”

“—mother said a lot of things.”

Charles pursed his lips. You were right.

“Alright. We can talk about this later. But please. We need to help Jean, not hurt her. She’s scared. She doesn’t understand how to control what’s going on. She hasn’t meant to hurt anyone—”

“—she killed your sister,” you said. You knew all about how Raven was his adopted sister. Nothing against her, of course. It was all your mother’s doing. Who knew that Erik always had a thing for people related to Charles?

He took in a deep breath. “Yes. She killed who I grew up with as a sister. But she did not mean to. We did not know how to handle her.”

“Oh, and what changed?”

“Being this way is not going to help anyone. She is going to kill Erik, unless we all agree to stop—”

“—sorry, Charles, no can do.”

—

Time seemed to speed up, and hours promptly passed by. The alien, Vuk tried her hardest to get everything from Jean. In the process, disaster struck.

You had just reunited with Erik when you were struck in the shoulder with a stun weapon. As you fell to the ground, you heard Erik shout. Then, everything went black.

Waking up, you slowly took in your surroundings. You were on a train. Without a clue where you were heading, you took the time to breathe deep. Erik was to your right. You could feel him moving around—he must have already been awake, and now, he was struggling to get out of the restraints.

Charles sat straight across from you, his eyes dead set in a glare pointed at the ground.

You cleared your throat, resting your head on the wall behind you. “Charles.”

He said nothing.

You looked over at Erik, who shrugged. “He’s been silent ever since we were captured.”

“Were you not shot—”

“—no. Collar. You’ve got one now, too.”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“They put it on me while I aided you,” he chuckled softly. “I suppose it is my own fault…”

“None of this would have happened had you allowed me to talk some sense into her,” Charles spoke, looking up at his old friend. “Had you not attacked her; she would have been calm. She was scared, Erik. I’m sure she still is. I can feel her. She is at war with herself, and you have only aided in making her feel worse.”

“Could you feel me?” you asked.

“Quite impossible when you make it difficult for me to recognize you,” Charles immediately recounted. “How did you manage that? You’ve the ability to just manipulate minds? Nothing more, nothing less? I only felt you when your block dissolved. What does it take for it to do that?”

Charles was angry.

You stared him down. He returned your gaze.

For a set of twins that had been apart for decades at this point, you acted as if you had never once been split up.

“I can alter anatomy.”

“Can you now?” he scoffed. “You know. I would have thought that perhaps you would understand that not everyone is inherently evil. She is still good, [Your name].”

“Why would I understand that?”

Charles sighed. “Despite not being able to recognize you while you still had that going on, had I just focused, I could read your mind. You’ve been engaged for how long, Erik? To my sister?”

Erik blinked rapidly. “What?”

This, was of course, news to him. You never said anything about it. Charles was about to open a new can of worms that would blow up in your face after all of this was said and done.

“Nothing,” you shot at Erik. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re siblings?” Erik asked.

“Stop it,” you groaned.

Charles clenched his jaw and he looked away from you.

“Look,” you began, frowning. “I’m sorry. I should have reached out to you sooner. More specifically, when I heard that mother died. But I didn’t. I didn’t know where to start looking—”

“—I never left the house.”

You looked towards the floor. “Now I know that. I should have come sooner. I should have told Erik and allowed him to tell you. But I thought that it would hurt more, knowing that mom just lied to us. To you, really.”

“She told me that you died. She set up an actual funeral, fit with a coffin and a headstone. She really played the part,” Charles said.

“I wondered that earlier, but now that you tell me that, it hurts a lot more,” you tried to laugh, as the realization that your mother probably hated you with every fiber in her ran through your head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took… whatever the hell this is for you to realize that I’m still very much alive.”

“Perhaps we can speak about this later,” Charles began. “We should focus on getting out of here, before something worse happens.”

And of course, Charles had to speak it into existence. A loud, deafening bang nearly made you scream.

The aliens were back—and this time, they weren’t about to go easy on anyone.

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kira-bitz · 4 years ago

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Edd was already fed up with his situation. How had it come to this? Well, the events have not happened long ago, they were still fresh in his memory.

And it was that his parents didn't saw with good eyes that, as he grew up, Edd developed a greater interest in cartoons and comics. Even traditional arts like painting and sculpture were alternatives they were willing to accept for their oldest son, but comics? Animations? He wasn't even talented enough to stand out from the crowd and have a promising future. This is how, when Edd mentioned his intention to study animation after finishing his studies at school, his father didn't hesitate to give him an ultimatum:

- Either you choose a traditional career as how it has to be, or you finance them by your own.

Edd already saw that answer coming, so he wasn't discouraged by his father's words. In a way he understood his fear, but that wasn't going to stop him, he would prove to them that he could fulfill his dream with or without their help. He had already planned what to do in advance, because due to the great income of money from his family, he knew that the loan or grant options wouldn't allow him to cover much of the cost of his studies if he continued living with them, so he was already focused in finding a part-time job. On the other hand, his friends Matt and Tom told him about their intentions to share a flat, in order to live in a more central place. Nothing could go wrong.

But there he was a year later, exhausted from the fifth merchandise landing of the night at the supermarket. Too tired to get home and get on with his college projects, he just wanted a shower and sleep. Wasn't there another type of work that drained less of his energy? A job that didn't take up so many hours of his day?

This is how Edd began to investigate in different places, increasingly corrupt sites, until in one of them reached at his ears the information of a certain business that was done in a night pool club, where in exchange for "requests" of clients a good sum of money was paid. Edd hesitated to try after seeing what kind of requests there were, but one in particular caught his eye.

“A guy on my campus constantly harasses me. I have denounced him repeatedly, but I haven't received a response from the authorities since he has not physically attacked me. I just want to give him the scare of his life so he can leave me alone. I'm scared."

Edd thought about it for a moment as he looked at the contact number attached to the application and the amount to be received for said service. He was tall, maybe not the most muscular boy, but he had knowledge of fights from his most rebellious school years. Plus, he had a pretty convincing dummy gun. Maybe... he could try.

When the day came, Edd took one last look at the photo of a blond young man to confirm that it was the same one he was watching casually walking down the sidewalk in front of him. He crossed the street while pulling on his hood and shoved the boy shorter than him into the alley, away from the public view. He grabbed him by the neck almost lifting him off the ground as the guy emitted little screams of terror:

- I know you, George Smith. I know where you live, your boring schedule, and that you were now on your way to see your friends Tyler and Henry at the place a few blocks from here. Too bad I'll have to spoil your fun.

Wide-eyed in sheer terror, the smaller guy watched as Edd took his gun from his back pocket, pulled the hammer and aimed it at George's head.

- If I see you near Miss Emily Brown again, I will come for you again, and I will not be alone.

Between screeches and gasps from George from the tight grip, Edd slammed his knee into his stomach, completely knocking the air out of his lungs. Finally, before George could catch his breath, and with one swift movement, Edd hit George over the head with his gun, knocking him out instantly.

The tallest one looked at the scene for a second and felt the adrenaline rush inside him. He has never felt something like this. It reminded him a bit of the school fights of yesteryear but with a much greater intensity. He felt control and uncontrolled at the same time. He liked it.

Slowly, Edd began to take more and more requests from people he called "in a situation of need for not acting of the law" sometimes allying with others like him when the service required more than one individual, and even going so far as to buy a real gun and learn how to use it to take less risk. With this new inflow of money, he could leave his other job since in less hours he was earning much more, he could pay for his studies without problem, improve his work team and pay the rent for his home.

And so he did, the day his new computer and drawing tablet arrived was the happiest day of his life. Tom and Matt were undoubtedly happy for him and when he finally had everything set up he called them over to see his latest model equipment. Edd didn't expect them to come into his room filming and celebrating the fruit of so much hard work. Between congratulations they took one last photo to keep for the memory.

- Thanks guys. You are the best.

Finally, already in the darkness of the night, an Edd could be seen without being able to sleep. Since, although in a couple of years he should no longer have the need to continue with this work, something had awakened in his being that said that what began as a need, was turning into an obsession.

---

Well here I brought the first promised backstory of the boys in the EW Lone Digger AU. I hope you like it! Please remember that this is fiction and that threatening people is bad, carrying weapons is bad, illegality is bad, etc asdfg.

And there is a small cameo of Ghost Friends since I will be part of the team of the first episode as character designer and that makes me happy 💖.

I take this opportunity to comment it is very likely that next week I will open commissions again, but I must adjust the prices and it will be probably 5 slots only for now.

Y para mi gente hispanohablante, abajo del Seguir Leyendo se encuentra la versión en español 😘

Edd ya estaba harto de su situación. ¿Cómo había llegado a esto? Bueno, los sucesos no habían ocurrido hace mucho, aún seguían frescos en su memoria.

Y es que sus padres no vieron con buenos ojos que, a medida que crecía, Edd desarrollaba un interés mayor por las caricaturas e historietas. Incluso artes tradicionales como pintura y escultura eran alternativas que estaban dispuestos a aceptar para su hijo mayor, pero ¿comics? ¿animaciones? Ni siquiera tenía tanto talento como para destacar del montón y tener un futuro prometedor. Así fue como, cuando Edd les mencionó sus intenciones de estudiar animación al terminar sus estudios en el colegio, su padre no dudó en darle un ultimátum:

- O eliges una carrera tradicional como corresponde, o la financias por tu cuenta.

Edd ya veía venir esa respuesta, por lo no se desanimó con las palabras de su padre. De cierta forma entendía su temor, pero eso no iba a detenerlo, les probaría que podía cumplir su sueño con o sin su ayuda. Ya tenía planificado qué hacer de antemano, pues debido a la gran entrada de dinero de su familia, sabía que las opciones de préstamos o subvenciones no le permitirían cubrir gran parte del valor de sus estudios si seguía viviendo con ellos, así que ya estaba mentalizado en encontrar un trabajo de medio tiempo. Por otra parte, sus amigos Matt y Tom le habían comentado sus intenciones de compartir un piso, para de esta forma vivir en un lugar más céntrico. Nada podría salir mal.

Pero ahí estaba un año después, agotado por del quinto desembarque de mercadería de la noche en el supermercado. Muy cansado como para llegar a casa y avanzar en sus proyectos universitarios, solo quería una ducha y dormir. ¿No existía otro tipo de trabajo que drenara menos de su energía? ¿Un trabajo que no ocupara tantas horas de su día?

Así fue como Edd se dedicó a investigar en diferentes sitios, sitios cada vez más corruptos, hasta que en uno de ellos llegó a sus oídos la información de cierto negocio que se hacía en un club de pool nocturno, donde a cambio de “solicitudes” de clientes se pagaba una buena suma de dinero. Edd, al ver el tipo de solicitudes que se habían dudó en intentarlo, pero uno en particular le llamó la atención.

“Un sujeto del campus me acosa constantemente. Lo he denunciado en reiteradas ocasiones, pero no he tenido respuesta de las autoridades ya que no me ha agredido físicamente. Solo quiero que le den el susto de su vida para que me deje en paz. Tengo miedo.”

Edd lo pensó un momento mientras observaba el número de contacto adjunto a la solicitud y el monto a recibir por dicho servicio. Él era grande, tal vez no el chico más musculoso, pero tenía conocimiento en peleas de su etapa escolar más rebelde. Además, tenía un arma falsa bastante convincente. Quizás… podría intentarlo.

Llegado el día, Edd miró por última vez la foto de un joven rubio para corroborar que era el mismo al que estaba observando caminar despreocupadamente por la vereda de en frente. Cruzó la calle mientras se colocaba la capucha y empujó al chico más pequeño que él al callejón, alejándolos de la vista pública. Lo sujetó del cuello casi levantándolo del suelo mientras el chico emitía pequeños chillidos de terror. Sacó su arma y apuntó a su cabeza:

- Te conozco, George Smith. Sé dónde vives, tu aburrido horario y que ahora te dirigías a ver a tus amigos Tyler y Henry en el local a unas cuadras de aquí. Lástima que tendré que arruinar tu diversión.

Con los ojos abiertos de puro terror, el chico más pequeño vió cómo Edd tomaba su arma del bolsillo trasero, jalaba el percutor y apuntaba a la cabeza de George.

- Si te vuelvo a ver cerca de la señorita Emily Brown vendré nuevamente por ti, y no estaré solo.

Entre chillidos y sonidos ahogados de George por el fuerte agarre, Edd le propinó un golpe seco con la rodilla a su estómago, sacándole completamente el aire de los pulmones. Finalmente, antes de que George pudiera recuperar el aliento, y con un rápido movimiento, Edd golpeó a George en la cabeza con su arma, noqueándolo instantáneamente.

El más alto miró por un segundo la escena y sintió cómo la adrenalina corría en su interior. Nunca había sentido algo así. Le recordó un poco a las peleas escolares de antaño pero con una intensidad mucho mayor. Sintió control y descontrol a la vez. Le gustó.

Poco a poco, Edd empezó a tomar cada vez más solicitudes de gente que él llamaba “en situación de necesidad por el no actuar de la ley”, a veces aliándose con otros como él cuando el servicio requería más de un individuo, e incluso llegando a comprar un arma real y aprender a usarla para correr menos riesgos. Con esta nueva entrada de dinero podría dejar su otro trabajo ya que en menos horas ganaba mucho más, podría pagar sus estudios sin problema, mejorar su equipo de trabajo y pagar la renta de su hogar.

Y así lo hizo, el día que llegó su nuevo computador y tableta gráfica fue el día más alegre de su vida. Tom y Matt estaban indudablemente felices por él y cuando por fin tuvo todo instalado los llamó para que vieran su equipamiento último modelo. Edd no esperaba que entraran a su habitación grabando y festejando el fruto de tanto trabajo duro. Entre felicitaciones tomaron una última foto para guardar para el recuerdo.

- Gracias chicos. Son los mejores.

Finalmente, ya en la oscuridad de la noche, se pudo ver a un Edd sin poder conciliar el sueño. Puesto que, aunque en un par de años ya no tendría la necesidad de seguir con este trabajo, algo había despertado en su ser que le decía que lo que empezó como una necesidad, se estaba convirtiendo en una obsesión.

#Eddsworld #EW Lone Digger AU #Eddsworld Edd #Eddsworld Tom #Eddsworld Matt #EW Edd #EW Tom #EW Matt #Ghost Friends #KiraBitzArt #Eddsworld KiraBitz #EW Lone Digger AU KiraBitz

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animepopheart · 4 years ago

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Wonder Egg Priority, Episode 7: The Scars to Prove It (or, Love for the Moms, the Cutters, and the Drunks)

Wonder Egg Priority (WEP) has felt like the successor to Puella Magi Madoka Magica in many ways throughout its run, but in episode seven, it almost went full Madomagi by driving the stakes to their utmost height—to the death of one of the main characters. But as has been consistent with WEP, what it did instead, after some moments of true worry, is to instead deliver hope in the face of pain, resolve against overwhelming circumstances, and strength in weakness.

The series returns to Rika Kawai’s story in this episode, which starts with her turning 14. And on her 14th birthday, after leaving her hungover mother halfway asleep at the bar she works at and which they call home, Rika opens up to the rest of the girls, explaining that she doesn’t know her father (it could be any of five possibilities, or even more) and her mom won’t reveal any further information about him. As she trashes her mom, Neiru and Momoe are incredulous, which only drives Rika away from them. And though Ai goes to comfort her, Rika is in a terrible state of mind as she enters her next fight.

This was a difficult episode to watch. They’ve all been somewhat hard since the series never shies away from brutal and violent situations impacting young people, but I found myself squirming especially here as Rika’s cutting takes center stage. At one point, she decides to cut herself and it seems certain she will, before her turtle-like partner, Mannen, prevents it from happening.

Challenging, also, is how strained Rika’s relationship is with her mother, who’s life revolves around drink—alcohol both pays the bills and helps her forget how miserable her existence is. And in the midst of all the bad behavior in this episode—the usual Rika talk, her mom’s alcoholism and neglect, and the selfishness all around, one begins to feel deeply sorrowful for the Kawai women. Yes, Rika is often obnoxious, but her family life is in shambles, and she still exhibits goodness, including a curiously gentle relationship with Mannen. And Rika’s mother is a tragic figure, used by men and quite on the road to an early death, it would seem, unable to lift herself out of the gutter as she tries, in her own sloppy way, to protect and reach out to her daughter.

It’s in this hopelessness that Rika turns again to cutting, and then finds herself tempted by something even more dangerous. Her foe this time is a religious leader who led the egg, a follower who continues to believe in him, to commit suicide as a way of “connecting” with the universe (Heaven’s Gate, anyone?). Rika decries the ghoul as a charlatan, but is confronted with her own weakness when the egg shows her own scarred arm to Rika, revealing that she can tell that the latter cuts just like she did. And then she explains that Rika can be released from this pain.

The scars, evidence of what Rika does to cope with her pain, now become the weakness that they truly are, revealing how hopeless she feels, and how powerless she is against the mechanizations of her family life. And defeated, she’s about to allow herself to be killed when a surprising savior comes along—a turtle. Mannen attacks the spiritual leader, to Rika’s surprise as well, until she remembers that he has imprinted on her. Rika is Mannen’s mom, and as he did when he prevented her from cutting, Mannen is again protecting his mother.

The conclusion that Rika reaches is unusual but inspiring. She understands, in this moment, the need to protect one’s mom, finally admitting to herself in a de facto way that maybe her mother is in need of love, too. It’s funny to consider the need that mothers have for love since culturally and socially, they’re always seen as the providers of it. But of course, they need it in return, especially when they falter. My own mother is sick right now, and I think of the support I need to give her and the lack of that I’ve provided through the years.

Warning: Screenshot involving cutting after the jump.

My mother was a good one, however. Rika’s, on the other hand, has struggled with the charge, which reminds me of a story from one of my favorite books, The Ragamuffin Gospel, about another bad parent—a far worse one, in fact, and a real one. I’ll quote part of the passage from chapter seven:

“‘Our daughter Debbie wanted a pair of earth shoes for her Christmas present. On the afternoon of December 24, my husband drove her downtown, gave her sixty dollars, and told her to buy the best pair of shoes in the store. That is exactly what she did. When she climbed back into the pickup truck her father was driving, she kissed him on the cheek and told him he was the best daddy in the whole world. Max was preening himself like a peacock and decided to celebrate on the way home. He stopped at the Cork ‘n’ Bottle–that’s a tavern a few miles from our house and told Debbie he would be right out. It was a clear and extremely cold day, about twelve degrees above zero, so Max left the motor running and locked both doors from the outside so no one could get in. It was a little after three in the afternoon and…’

Silence.

‘Yes?’

The sound of heavy breathing crossed the recreation room. Her voice grew faint. She was crying. ‘My husband met some old Army buddies in the tavern. Swept up in euphoria over the reunion, he lost track of time, purpose, and everything else. He came out of the Cork ‘n’ Bottle at midnight . He was drunk. The motor had stopped running and the car windows were frozen shut. Debbie was badly frostbitten on both ears and on her fingers. When we got her to the hospital, the doctors had to operate. They amputated the thumb and forefinger on her right hand. She will be deaf for the rest of her life.'”

Max—a real person, mind you—was a successful, well-liked man, but his drinking problem led to an unconscionable decision and profound failure as a parent. And yet, this book is about grace, an idea which to humans feels unjust, but which has the power to change hearts and tear down walls, sometimes literally.

Could Max be given grace? Could Rika’s mother? If not directly, she’s done her own physical damage to her daughter in the form of those cutting scars (difficult and perhaps triggering images below). As mentioned earlier, the egg that she’s helping knows her pain and insists that letting go of everything, including life itself, is the way to peace. After all, to a young, suffering girl, what else could these scars mean?

But in the midst of giving up, in the moment that she actually capitulates (and this episode takes you 99% to the edge, both in the cutting scene and in the apparent death scene), Rika experiences something powerful. She experiences grace.

Have you ever been challenged to forgive someone when you don’t want to, when you feel completely in the right? Maybe it’s easy for you, but perhaps it isn’t. The girls surrounding Rika experience differing degrees of this with her sometimes maniacal and often hurtful behavior. Ai forgives easily. Momoe gets fired up and then equally seeks to make peace. And Neiru…well, Neiru holds onto “justice” more than love (setting up what I imagine will be the most powerful transformation in the series of all, in true Homura fashion). But in the moment that Rika is about to give her life, the girls yell out their love for her, even Neiru, and then more profoundly, without any hesitation, Mannen puts his own life on the line to stop the death from occurring. Rika has already given up, but this turtle hasn’t—not for his mother, whom he loves very much.

And experiencing that love from a different angle, Rika is changed just a bit. She begins to see her weakness as a “mother,” failing her turtle-child, and thinks of her own mom who is overwhelmed by hurt and a failure as well. And if just a little—for as the final scenes indicate, it is just a little—the path toward forgiveness begins.

But a little bit of grace is like a little bit of a flood—its power overwhelms, and it defeats the enemy, whether that means bitterness, a physical person (or manifestation of one), or the devil himself.

When Rika returns from the event, having killed the cult leader monster, it’s interesting to note that she isn’t a wholly different person. She’s changing little by little. And her scars remain. In fact, as she admits, she probably will cut herself again. But strangely enough, those scars now represent something different. They show someone trying—failing, yes, sometimes considerably and maybe very often—but trying, and only able to try because love was shown her, and through that, she is now able to show love as well.

You may have such scars in your life, physical or emotional, battered by the world and by people. I hope that you can develop relationships that help you heal as well, and that you’ll also remember that there are other scars which are meaningful to you, but which you cannot see on your person, scars that were borne out of a desire to heal you. Christ took the piercings, on his head, hands, feet, and side, so that while your heart and flesh may be cut, your soul need not be. And through his wounds, you may be healed.

The grace offered through Christ is one that, as he explains about everlasting water at the well to the Samaritan, for now and through eternity. The egg seeks peace forever by dying, but Jesus, unlike the cult leader, died for us so that we may not have to. He took the nails, the cross, and the spear so that we don’t have to inflict pain on ourselves and receive the punishment of our actions against him and others. He is our scar.

That’s grace. That’s the power that it has. And it can reach anyone—even a terrible dad, an alcoholic mom, a tempestuous child, and, and most significantly and personally—you.

If you’re suffering and in pain, maybe self-inflicted, we encourage you to explain such to a parent or trusted adult and ask for help. It’s a difficult first step, but one that will help you begin recovering. And we also advise that you turn to Christ for help—in prayer, community, and scripture. He provides people to us that will aid us in our times of need, as well as himself and the Holy Spirit if we are believers.

Additionally, there’s a scene in this episode where triumphant, Rika concludes that cutting is okay. That’s said in the context of her moving forward bit by bit and forgiving herself for her failures, even the upcoming ones. That’s an important lesson, though we must certainly be careful not to let it be a license to continue cutting with impunity.

Wonder Egg Priority can be streamed through Funimation. Read more of our articles by signing up for our weekly newsletter.

#wonder egg priority #rika kawai #wep #pmmm #Christianity #tw cutting #blog

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mammons-tax-returns · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! I saw that your ask box was open, so I was wondering if I could request how the brothers (if not all then just Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Leviathan) would react to the mc defending them! Like they get into a fight and their only response was "they were talking bad about you" or something! -🥀 (Also side note, do you right for GN! MC's, or just male?)

BROTHERS REACTING TO MC DEFENDING THEM

Hey anon! Thanks so much for requesting! As for your question, This is TECHNICALLY a male reader blog, however, if it isn’t necessary, I will use he/him pronouns loosely. In other words, if the prompt doesn’t specify/depend on it being a male mc, it will be gn!mc! Hope this clears up some confusion! I’ll start putting whether a post is for a gn or male mc at the very beginning of said post from now on.

✖️GENDER NEUTRAL MC✖️

fluff, some angst :).

Lucifer was more angry than anything to hear that MC had gotten in a fight. The one thing he made sure they did was to stay out of trouble. And yet, they seem to be a magnet for chaos.

He stumbled upon the fight before it got bad, and had the demon dealt with as he accompanied MC to an empty room at RAD.

Although he seemed to be sweating out of exasperation, it was easy to tell that he was simply worried about them.

Well. Kind of.

If you look past the hour-long lecture it is.

MC tries countless times to explain themself, and yet he never fails to reroute the conversation back to his lesson on running from a demon before things get bad.

It gets to a point when MC has to put a hand over his mouth to quiet him.

Only then do they explain what happened, and what caused the fight to begin with.

First, he is absolutely shocked. And he can’t really find the right thing to say.

Then, his eyes relax, and his frown seems to melt away. He truly wants to be mad still, to teach a proper lesson. But he just can’t do it.

“It is true that humans tend not to think things through, I suppose.”

He crosses his arms and continues, “Well, I appreciate it, but I don’t need the protection.”

After ruffling their hair, he smirks a little.

“I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you if you rush into situations like that. Maybe put you on a leash.”

After things are cleared up, he finds the situation a little comical. A human defending a demon.

Luckily, the wounds aren’t bad, or else Lucifer wouldn’t have hesitated giving some sort of consequence to the MC.

Mammon is, unfortunately, not around to witness or intervene into the fight.

So when the next time he sees MC there’s a dark magenta ring around their eye, he loses it.

He wastes no time taking them home from RAD. We know he never really cared for classes anyways.

Unlike Lucifer, he wants to hear them out on the way home.

Although he physically feels himself getting butterflies in his stomach from the idea of being cared for, he clears his throat and tries to push it aside.

He knows that they’re not going to be taken away from him anytime soon. At least, not with his unintentionally vice grip on their wrist they aren’t.

And yet he can’t help but constantly flick his gaze back to them and their wounds.

We were all waiting for this one: he feels horrible that they got hurt because of him, albeit indirectly.

He puts emphasis on steering clear of hotheaded demons— or, all demons that aren’t the brothers for that matter.

“I hear ya, The Great Mammon is a gem that all of devildom should be tryna’ protect! But... You’re better off ignoring that... I mean, look at ya! All beat up and stuff... N-Not that you look bad or anything. Well... Um.”

When MC laughs at him, he’s both relieved that they’re not upset enough to sulk, and embarrassed because of his wording.

So they have to reassure him that they simply find him worth protecting— for exactly this. He cares for them, and is probably willing to protect them too.

As he’s sloppily tending to their bruises, he offers to spend the day with them.

He says its his payment, and that he would defend them when Lucifer found out about today.

But it’s more so the fact that he wishes more than anything to spend every day for the rest of his demonic life with them.

Levi is another brother who is unfortunately not around at the time due to his home schooling.

That’s why he’s one of the last people to find out about it, and he feels guilt hit him like an 18-wheeler.

The injuries are a little more severe, but nothing that would keep someone from going about their daily life. Nonetheless, Levi is demanding to be the one to patch them up.

As soon as MC cuts him off before he can start rambling, they make sure to explain the situation, i.e. “I had to defend you! Or else they would have kept talking bad about you.”

He turns red and covers his mouth, undoubtedly mumbling something about how impossibly romantic the situation was.

But after that, he shakily asks that MC tries not to talk as he takes time to let everything sink in. He still can’t believe it.

So he finds himself shakily asking questions like, “So... You just heard him and decided to-... To defend me? No one asked you to?”

For every reassuring nod that he gets, he feels his head spin a little faster.

It takes him a while, but all the wounds are properly sterilized and taken care off beneath his cold fingers.

He leans back in his seat, and blows out a slow puff of air. “MC... You’re badass. Seriously. I don’t really know what I, a demon, have done to deserve you... But... Thank you.”

The conversation ends with tears, but they couldn’t have been anything but happy.

He just can’t believe someone could go as far as to fight for his sake over a simple ill-intended comment.

Satan witnesses the event. Which... May or may not be a good thing.

MC doesn’t notice him at first. They’re too busy with the demon that has her hands on their uniform collar.

But then they see the green flames licking at their peripherals, emitting from somewhere behind them.

The demon girl in front of them seems to lose all color in her face at the sight of those same flames. She instantly drops MC to their knees, and attempts to run.

As Satan steps forward to grab the female student, he spins MC around with ease so that they won’t have to witness whatever he’s about to do.

MC doesn’t know how much time has passed due to the shock of the moment. It could be seconds or minutes. But when Satan pulls them back up to their feet, he is stone faced.

MC walks stiffly to the House of Lamentation with Satan, careful not to set anything else off in him.

The entire walk to his room is silent. The first time he speaks is when he offers a seat on his bed, nudging books aside with his foot.

He takes a deep breath before he begins diligently tending to the injuries.

“Mind explaining what happened?” He doesn’t sound angry at them, but it’s hard to tell with him.

Satan notices the hesitation in answering, so he gives a small smile. “Are you scared? You shouldn’t be. I’m just a bit... Tense, is all.”

After a moment, MC tells him the reasoning for the fight.

Satan sighs once more and places a hand on theirs. Oh to be so selfless yet still be a fragile human.

“MC... Demons talk. And it’s not always nice. It’s best to just let it go, okay? Well... Give me their name first, but I can’t have you losing a limb for me. Who knows what i’d do then.”

MC can’t completely promise that they’ll simply forget about anyone that talks badly about him, but Satan only gives a helpless sigh.

“What ever will we do with you.” He is much more relaxed than before, and his tone is affectionate.

MC doesn’t know what happened to that girl, and you figure it’s best to never ask.

Asmodeus is preoccupied with a hand mirror, but a circle of gathering demons certainly catches his attention.

He hums, interested. He’s always been one for drama.

But as he peeks over the crowd, his heart sinks impossibly deep in his body.

MC isn’t bloody, but by the looks of it, they may be very soon.

While he’s ridden with shock, a punch lands on their face, and the crowd roars. The yells overtake his own, and he can’t get through the group of people pushing and shoving.

Diavolo and Barbatos were alerted of the congregation of students, and are only just now arriving. And at the sight of them, students scatter like bugs. Leaving MC on the ground and clutching their face in pain.

Diavolo and Barbatos leave MC in the care of Asmodeus while they turn to resolve the problem with the attacker.

Asmodeus is frantic, fanning his face as he helps MC to sit up. He doesn’t know what to do first, does he ask to see the wound? But what’s the point when he doesn’t really know how to treat it in any circumstance? No one has ever socked him in the face before.

So he opts to carry them off to the infirmary, bridal style. All along the way, he gives reassuring words that seem to slightly calm the injuried MC.

“Hey, beautiful! Ughh, the nerve of some demons! I can’t even begin to— Oh right... The ice pack, I’ll get that now, so sit tight, love!”

While he allows them to press the ice to their eye themself, he is massaging his frowning face. All while he seems to be worried about all the wrong things.

“Is this type of injury permanent on humans?? Your face is too good for that!” “That low-level demon... I wish I could ruin his face a hundred times worse than what he’s doing to innocent bystanders!”

MC patiently allows him to vent, because hearing him fret of the most “Asmo” things somehow brought light to the situation and distracted from the throbbing in their face.

An hour must have passed before Asmo actually takes in the situation. “Oh, but I haven’t even asked... What in devildom were you doing with such a grotesque demon? Do I have to replace Mammon in guarding you?”

Finally, MC explains.

He’s less than shocked. Instead, he holds his own arms with an almost sympathetic smile, “Oh, darling... It’s better to talk to Lucifer about things like that... If at all. As the Avatar of Lust, It’s kind of part of the program to get nasty birds twittering about you... Fan behavior.”

MC seems less than convinced, replying with a small, “But...”

Asmo grins and puts a gentle hand on their shoulder. “It’s adorable that you’d do that for me, MC, really. I wish I could just dress you up and show you to the world, show them how special you make me feel! But please. Don’t sacrifice your complexion for a-ny-thing!”

Even Asmo can feel himself get butterflies when MC does the smallest of things for him. But taking care of that face is no joke to him.

Beel is at the gym when it happens, and is the last one to hear about it. The brothers are all discreetly trying to decide whether or not to tell him. We all know how scary he can get.

MC listens to Mammon... For some reason. And that entails avoiding Beel until the scrapes and bruises on your body heal.

Bad idea. Beel now looks like a hurt puppy, and is desperately trying to figure out what he has done.

The fateful moment of realization for him comes on a Tuesday night, less than a week after the incident. MC walks into the kitchen, searching for a late night beverage to drink and also hold against their wounds.

Beel is already there, instantly looking ashamed when he sees them.

“Beel...” MC starts, forgetting that they were supposed to be avoiding him. They stop themselves before hastily pulling their sleeves down to cover the lingering bruises.

This catches Beel’s attention to detail when it comes to others.

His eyebrows furrow a bit, and MC gulps. There was no getting out of this.

Before completely explaining everything, MC has to calm him. Because if not, he’d be checking every inch of their body for serious injuries. And even if there were none, he’d never let them leave bed for the next week. At least.

They take a deep breath and start with the people poking fun at his soft personality in such an intimidating body. And then finishing with the plan of steering clear of him to keep him from getting worried. (you leave out mammon’s part last second)

At first, his eyes are serious as he listens intently, silently going over things more than once in his head to ensure that he was understanding the story properly.

Once MC has finished, his eyes change completely. They’re soft, and concerned, but not overbearing.

MC felt a bit guilty seeing him like this.

Beel reaches out to hug them, but is hesitant, worried that they’d still be hurt. So MC has to let him know that their wounds have healed for the most part.

“MC.... Firstly, thank you.” He pulls them into a soft hug. “It makes me all happy on the inside when you do things like that.” His voice is quiet, but much too unstable. MC knew that this was a telltale sign that he was near tears.

MC doesn’t hesitate to reach up and stroke the back of his hair, feeling him bury his head into their shoulder.

“Beel? Are you okay?”

“I should be the one asking you that.”

‘you should know better’ is what he wants to say. But maybe they don’t, he thinks. Afterall, when was the last time a human with such limited magical capability was surrounded by demons 24/7?

“I just need you to promise me.” He carefully pulls back and sucks in a breath, keeping himself from imagining MC scared and hurt without him— because of him.

“Promise me that you’ll tell me about things like that first. Before you get yourself hurt, or... Or worse.” There’s another word that he has to stop himself from saying. He doesn’t know how he could handle that thought.

There, he thinks. If they didn’t know before how serious it was, now they did. Hopefully.

The brothers notice that Beel is a bit more normal than the days before, so they assume that things have been cleared up for the two.

Although they have to pretend as if they had never heard about the incident when he mentions it.

Belphie was definitely not there when it happened.

But unlike with every other brother, MC was unable to be saved immediately after having found themselves in a brawl with a low class demon.

MC silently curses as they find themselves limping through the halls of the House of Lamentation.

They’re lucky to have only gotten out of that with an injured ankle, they remind themself. It didn’t seem... Broken. But it definitely needed more medical attention than it received now— A knee-high sock they pulled off of their foot wrapped tightly around a ruler they used as a makeshift splint.

They were sure that the majority of the brothers were at school, so they’d have at least a few hours to figure out what to do.

How would the brothers react if they saw them like this? Would they feel that this was a mere inconvenience? Afterall, this may just be a bad sprain, and now look at them. They can barely limp. Much less walk. But maybe after a bit of rest, it would magically heal.

They decide to head to the music room (?), where they knew that none of the brothers would immediately run into after school.

After finding a stool to sit on, MC hisses when they bump their ankle on the floor. The throbbing seemed to shake their whole body.

“Holy shi—“

“MC?”

A sleepy drawl from the couch behind them causes them to freeze. They wanted to slap themself. Of course Belphie would be sleeping here, why didn’t they think of that?

“What’re you doing h—....” He stops.

MC can already tell that he had noticed the poor job they had done with their ankle. “I fell down the stairs. But it’s okay, I just—“

“MC. I’m not stupid. Why are you home so early, alone? If you skipped or left early, Mammon would have sniffed you out like a dog and be here, too. Spill it.”

If Belphie was good at anything (besides sleeping), it was reading emotions. There was no lying anymore. And so MC simply explained the fight and its causes.

When they turn to look at him, he simply blinks. He doesn’t seem very concerned, but he sleepily walks over to inspect their leg.

He’s careful to support their foot as he lifts their entire leg, checking the swelling.

“... Geez. You’re stupid.” His eyebrows knit together with an unknown emotion. Worry? Irritation? A mix of both? “I don’t care about what such irrelevant demons think, and you shouldn’t either.”

MC is a little speechless, but only laughs. “Yeah. It was a little dumb looking back at it. But you should have heard them, Belphie... There was no way I’d go without a fight, okay?”

Belphie smiles back. “If you wanted to prove yourself to me... There were other ways, you know?”

“Should we get Beel to help us set up the pillow fort?”

“Well, how else are you gonna heal? You can’t get better if you don’t rest with me.”

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me gender neutral mc #gn mc #fluff #fanfic #lucifer #mammon #levi #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #belphie #beel #belphegor #beelzebub

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jolynej · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Not in Love

Summary: You and Prosciutto, both determined to keep things casual, are sent out on a mission to eliminate a target, but something goes wrong and you end up hurt, forcing Prosciutto to come to terms with his feelings

A/N: I started this weeks ago, but have been so busy that I haven’t had time to properly finish it until now! I’m a very slow writer, and I struggle with creating longer fics that exceed 1k words, so this was a huge labor of love! I hope that y’all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Warnings: heavily implied nsft, violence, guns, minor character death, blood, Prosciutto being a bit of an asshole, fainting

You both told each other when you made this arrangement that it was strictly physical and that you were only doing this out of convenience and carnal desire. Sure, he’s very attractive, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about lingering in bed and pretending that you’re still asleep if only to savor his body heat and the weight of his arm across your torso for a few more minutes. But you couldn’t possibly cross that line.

The lives that both you led didn’t allow for the luxury of developing and maintaining romantic — or any, really — relationships that were outside of your work. You’d lost friends and family members to the steady passage of time and lack of communication. It came with the territory of the job, and though you’d tried to justify your drifting relationships by assuring yourself that it was done to protect those you used to hold close, you knew that was just an excuse you told yourself so that you could sleep at night.

The initial adjustment to your new job was tough in that aspect, but Prosciutto, aside from being your mentor, slowly became a comfort and a confidant for your bouts of anxiety and late night regrets of leaving your old life behind. You’d joined him outside at night on the balcony of the hideout plenty of times. He would self-soothe with cigarettes, exhaling out his demons in the shape of a puff of smoke whilst he listened to you reminisce on your happier, less bloody days.

“It’s a damn shame you’re so good at you job,” he’d told you one particular night, when the orange and white city lights below cast a bright glow over his sharp features; yet simultaneously, it accentuated the dark circles under his eyes, and the shadows beneath those jagged angles of his cheekbones and jawline made him look far older than he was. Prosciutto looked beautiful as he did horrible.

You just shook your head and smirked, inquiring, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Kid, there were many different paths that you could’ve picked from,” He stops briefly to take a drag of his cigarette. “But this is what you opted for.” The blond flicked his cigarette and snuffed it with the toe of his oxfords, answering with, “All I’m saying is that you had your whole life ahead of you, and instead of getting a normal, decent job, you decided that this was worth the Louboutins and those diamond earrings of yours.”

“It’s good that it ended up working out for you.”

His compliments were usually pretty backhanded, but you could tell that this wasn’t just because of his usual condescending behavior. He seemed almost... sad and guilty, but then again, it could just be from the shadows on his face exaggerating his features.

“I’m glad you’re damn good at your job, too,” you remarked, leaning against the railing, savoring in the feeling of the warm, summer night wind caressing your face.

Soon, you found the touch against your cheeks was replaced by his calloused fingers and then his lips, giving birth to a routine that would continue every-so-often: you’d join him outside at night and would wake up in bed next to him in a tangle of limbs and satin sheets.

Maybe it was only natural that you and him would end up growing closer and more intimate.

—

This little arrangement between the two of you continues, and with each time you bare yourself to him, you struggle with your developing feelings. After you had slept together that first night — before you had a real chance to give yourself a proper chance to evaluate your own feelings — he assured you that the prior night’s events had meant nothing to him, that it was a mistake. He apologized, confessing that the rendezvous had stemmed from a place of pent up arousal and convenience and that it wouldn’t happen again.

That’s what he’d said the second, and third, time too. But by the fourth time, you’d both decided to become ‘coworkers with benefits’ as you’d so eloquently put it. It’s purely out of physical need and mutual trust and nothing else. There’s no time for romance.

—

The following spring, you were sent out together to a job on the coast, and were given a shared room at a hotel near the warehouse where your target was supposedly going to be tonight. The assignment had worked in your favor, you’d both arrive mid-morning, have time to scout out the location, go back to the room for a quick fuck, then proceed to the location, clean up, and spend the night between the sheets until you both passed out from sheer exhaustion.

“The target should be on location this evening,” he informs you casually as he’s sliding on his trousers, as if he hadn’t just fucked you into the mattress. He gives his watch a quick glance before speaking again. “Which gives us approximately an hour before we need to head out.”

You nod, reaching for your clothes — his hand stops you, grasping your wrist. “Let me clean you up first,” he says, briefly locking eyes with you, before averting his gaze just as quickly. “If you’re going out you should at least be comfortable.”

While Prosciutto walks off to the bathroom to retrieve a glass of water and a washcloth, you look down at your naked body. Your combined releases dribble down your thighs, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the sticky, wet sensation on your lower body.

He’s back approximately a minute later, the glass is set upon the nightstand, and he’s kneeling, still shirtless, at your feet with the wet washcloth in hand. He cleans you up in relative silence, and the intimacy and vulnerability in this situation is not lost on either of you. It hangs around like a heavy fog that both of you desperately try to ignore, hoping that it’ll dissipate.

Under different circumstances, you’d love to be able to cradle his chin in your hand and confess every single romantic thought that you’d ever held for him, and in turn, he’d press tender kisses up your thighs, and trade the rag for his tongue, cleaning you up with a few slow licks. Instead, you give him a curt, ‘thank you’ and get dressed.

Your little trysts were littered with subtle, more domestic moments like this one where you wanted to push the boundary between what is and isn’t appropriate when you’re in a friends-with-benefits situation with your coworker. Even without the romance that you so desperately craved, there was still a strong sense of intimacy and familiarity with each ‘Was I too rough?’ or ‘You can sleep in here tonight’ that could only stem from a certain level of trust and comfort.

The rest of the time leading up to your assignment was spent going over your plan of attack and working out any loose ends or confusion on either side, and as he spoke, you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to travel down to his plush lips and the exposed patch of skin from his half-buttoned blouse that, when he shifted at a certain angle, allowed for you to catch a glimpse of a dark red bruise where your lips had been.

You were passing the threshold, the imaginary line. You’d stepped on it, gotten it stuck to your feet, and try as you may to deny its presence and scrub it clean from your skin — you could scrub it raw, until you bled — it wasn’t something you could erase.

As he’s stepping out of the hotel room, you glance back to ask him if he’s ready, but you’re caught off guard by the buttons of his shirt. They’re all closed completely save for a lone button rendering the bruise no longer visible. Inquisitively, the blond quirks up an eyebrow, silently asking if there’s a problem.

“I’m just ready to get this over with,” you sigh, matching your stride with his as you both exit the hotel and journey to the warehouse.

The target doesn’t show as planned, much to your and Prosciutto's dismay and annoyance. You had both searched the large building and its surroundings as thoroughly as possible but still the target hasn’t made an appearance. There aren’t even any hidden clues as to where he’s run off to. As pissed as you both felt in that moment — you were cursing to yourself and your partner was leaning against a metal structure with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth — Risotto was going to be absolutely furious.

Unlike most contracts where you were paid after the deed or half before and half after, the client had paid a hefty sum up front and with a dark leer he was insistent that the job be completed as soon as possible. Something deep within you knew that he would not be the type of man whose bad side you’d like to be on.

Defeated and angry, you both decided to bite the bullet and head back to the hotel to inform your superior of the unfortunate situation. Just outside of the hotel, Prosciutto glances over at a payphone on the street corner.

“Go on inside and shower and eat, kid, I’ll talk to Risotto.”

“Are you sure? We can speak to him together, or I can just sp—“ He cut you off with a hand patting your cheek, gently thumbing your skin. He was stressed and so were you.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” he manages a tiny half-smile. “I’ve got it.”

Yeah, you are stressed as all hell, but at least you didn’t have to be at the receiving end of Risotto’s wrath — for tonight anyway. Thinking about Prosciutto opting to do so in your stead and acting out of concern for you sends a cacophony of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. He has always looked out for you ever since you’d joined, but this was something more than just him looking out for a junior member of his team. There was no way that he’d touch Formaggio or even Pesci like that, with such a pure tenderness that leaves your skin tingling from where his fingers were.

Making your way up the stairs to your shared room, the sensation of butterflies immediately flees from your stomach and instead, an eerie, insidious feeling begins to tiptoe up your spine, and you get the sense that something is very, very wrong.

One of the hall lights has gone out, and the other is flickering in random spasms as it emits a faint buzz. With each step towards your door, the broken light fixture seems to dim and buzz louder until it makes one final loud screech and dies completely the moment that you touch the door handle, and as soon as your fingers gripped the metal handle, an overpowering jolt of electricity fizzles throughout your entire body, sending you doubling over in pain, desperately croaking out for your stand as you fall to the dingy carpet.

The world around you seemed to morph into blackness and little snippets of sounds — you weren’t sure if you were still awake or if you’d lost consciousness — but you clung onto what you could decipher to the best of your ability. Static, the plodding footfall of someone running on carpet with urgency, the unmistakable click of a gun, a heavy thud, then silence.

You crane your head and espy a familiar pair of oxfords, and with a sigh of relief you feel your eyes grow heavy.

—

You come-to in the backseat of a car, and if it weren’t for the intensity of the events before you passed out, you would’ve happily shut your eyes to the steady thrum of the car speeding down the road. A bubble of panic rises up your throat, throwing your senses in overdrive as you carefully assess your surroundings. You find that a suit jacket has been draped over you like a makeshift blanket, and the familiar scent of cologne, tobacco, and cigarette-smoke is an instant relief.

Looking up, you find Prosciutto is in the driver’s seat of the car with a plain, white tank top in the place of his button-up. The bones of his knuckles are prominent due to the strain and force of his grip on the steering wheel, and they’re dotted with specks of red that extend up to his forearms.

There’s an evident scowl on his lips, which are scabbed and bloody from worrying teeth marks and not from — what you can safely assume given the sound you’d heard earlier — a gunshot to the man that had been in your hotel room.

“The target was dealt with,” he says upon seeing you awake, and he disguises it with a cough, but his entire face softens with a relieved sigh. The visible tension in his bulging veins on his forearms eases along with the death-grip that he has on the steering wheel; Prosciutto settles one hand on his thigh, splaying his fingers out on the fabric of his trousers, feeling for something in his pocket — cigarettes most likely. He’s still antsy and tense, alternating between his hands on the wheel to search his other pocket.

You have a myriad of questions wreaking havoc on your brain, which is still a bit fuzzy from the electricity and has brought on a dull headache. With the blazer clenched tightly to your chest, you fiddle around until you find a pack of his smokes and pull them out, holding them in the air with a dopey, lopsided grin that says ‘lookee here!’. It earns a playful eye roll and a smirk from Prosciutto who brings his hand back to take them from you.

When you offer the box up, your fingers brush, and you swear that he leaves his hand extended towards you a moment longer than necessary. The sensation sends a full-body chill through your veins.

“Put the coat on, kid, I don’t want you freezing up and getting sick in the car.” He’s staring straight out at the road, but you know the sentiment is there, beneath the layer of sweat and blood there’s worry. “Go back to sleep,” he orders in that gravelly, stern but caring tone of his that he uses on you when he gives you orders, and only you. In a way, it’s not that much different from how he talks in bed, and the familiarity has you warm all over. God, you’re in love with this man.

“I’ll wake you up in about an or two, capisce?”

—

You’re awoken by Prosciutto opening the door of the backseat and calling your name. You can barely see him, he’s almost a dark, looming figure in the night. The sky in the countryside is worlds away from the city skyline that you’re accustomed to. Behind him, there’s a sea of twinkling stars, and the bright crescent moon hangs proudly behind his head like a half-halo, and he appears to you like a fallen angel, still clinging on desperately to something good and holy that someone like him does not deserve. In his right hand, he holds a shovel, and his arms and face and tank top are caked in the weight of his sins, blood and dirt and sweat; you surmise that the closer you get to him, the less the moon resembles a halo and moreso a pair of horns. Again, the night is playing tricks on you.

“I’ve buried the remains,” he explains. “I decided it would be easiest to just take care of it myself until we can get you checked out. We don’t know the full extent of the damage that you’ve received or what effects that my stand could have on you in this state.” It’s a poor excuse, and you both know it, but it’s easier for him to lie to you when his facial expressions are harder to see.

Still, you don’t know if it’s from the adrenaline in your blood, your feelings for him, or some leftover electricity that’s done something to your brain, but you decide to call him out.

Sitting upright, you say, “I still could’ve helped, Prosci, otherwise there would be no point for me to come on this mission with you. You’ve done more than enough to help me, and I… I really appreciate everything that you’ve done to help me, but I have to work to earn my share of the payment!

“I can’t just lie back and let you treat me like some doll or damsel in distress!” You spout, wadding up his blazer and tossing it at him. He catches it with a growl, and the shovel clatters to the ground with a resounding clang.

He’s crawling across the backseat, hovering over you like a mangy beast; truthfully, you don’t think that you’ve ever seen him look so unhinged and disheveled. His scent bears no resemblance to the comforting aroma of his suit-jacket, and instead, he emits a pungent odor of grime and sweat, evident by the damp, dirty stray pieces of hair that encircle his face and the thin layer of earth that stains his skin with splotches of gray and brown. He looks like he can hurt you, and for a second you make the mistake of thinking that he will.

“Kid, you need to listen to me! I—“ he huffs, but upon seeing your face up close, all scared and doe-like, he kisses you. It’s emotional and hurried and needy and far unlike any previous kiss that you’d shared. It’s not spurred on by wanting or lust but by love and a great fear of loss.

“I love you,” he whispers like a gasp when he pulls apart from you. “I love you,” he says once more, softer, sweeter. “I love you.”

In his eyes, you can see every word that he leaves unsaid, his confession of how afraid he was that he’d never see you again, how he panicked and saw red and shot the man on sight, how he carried you to the car with a metaphorical knife stabbing at his heart, and how he almost cried from relief when he saw you open your eyes.

“I love you, too,” you say back, smiling, kissing him again with that same passion as before.

#prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #tumblr formats things so weirdly!#jjba #my fics

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thatshithurted8 · 4 years ago

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Hurricane Season

Summary: Despite being awoken during the early hours of the morning JJ makes sure to comfort reader when she needs him most.

Prompt 32: “You come into my room at 4am just to cuddle?” Requested by @somekindofsapphic

Warnings: Mention of hurricanes, storms and death.

Word Count: 1.9k

Every time a hurricane was predicted to make land fall in the Outer Banks you found yourself taking refuge at the Chateau with John B, JJ and your dog, Coast. Kiara and Pope would always help you guys prepare with getting food and boarding up the house, but they would always go back to their houses where they would embrace the storm with their parents.

JJ on the other hand despised going home so much that he wouldn’t want to be there even if it meant he was protected from a hurricane. Unlike Pope and Kiara’s parents though, JJ’s dad couldn’t give a flying fuck about JJ’s whereabouts and you all felt for him because of that. But that’s where your mom differed from the rest of your friends parents.

Your mom cared and loved you deeply, but she was a nurse at the local hospital so she had to be there when first responders got there after the storm. With that being said she knew how scared you were of storms and hurricanes in specific.

So you found yourself engulfed in darkness on the pull out couch in John B’s living room, with Coast laying at your feet. You could hear the storm brewing outside, the wind actually just started to pick up within the past hour or so, waking you up from your already reckless slumber.

You listen as the wind gets louder and louder and the sound of the heavy rain hitting against the outside of the chateau becomes deafening.

You were already focused on controlling your breathing, but you could feel the panic wash over you. Like you, Coast was also awake and she sensed your discomfort so she gets up, stretches and lays down beside you.

Appreciatively you pet your brown furred dog and pull her closer to your side for comfort. Luckily enough for you Coast wasn’t scared of storms, in fact she wasn’t phased by them at all she just hated the fact that she couldn’t go outside to pee. If she was afraid of them you don’t know what you would do since you would have to comfort not only yourself, but her as well.

After a few minutes of distracting yourself with petting Coast the power goes out, leaving you in complete darkness. You let out a whimper as you feel around for your phone on the side table. Once you find it you check the time and see that it was 4:03am. You wondered if JJ or John B were awake as well. Surely they’ve woken up to the loud storm outside.

You set your phone back down, not wanting to drain the battery considering you didn’t know when the next time you would have power. Coast nudges your hand with her snout, signalling that she wanted you to continue petting her. While you scratch Coast’s head a battle went on in yours.

You were debating on going to see if JJ was awake or not. Your anxiety was starting to get the best of you and you could feel the panic attack slowly taking over your body.

Taking deep breaths you try to convince yourself that you were okay and it’s not fair to JJ to intrude on his slumber just because you were scared. However, as much as you wanted your pep talk and convincing to work, it didn’t. Suddenly, something that sounded like a tree falling, crashes onto the ground outside, causing both you and Coast to jump in your spot.

“Fuck this.” You mutter to yourself, quickly getting up with Coast following behind you.

JJ stirs around in what used to be Big John’s bed when something outside falls down. Everyone knew that JJ Maybank was a heavy sleeper and could sleep through anything. Although as you open the door to the bedroom causing the wood to squeal against the hinges the blonde stirs around again and ultimately wakes up. It was like his body sensed that you were in his presence and he didn’t want to embarrass himself around you by drooling or something. After all, he has had a giant ass crush on you for as long as he could remember.

“JJ.” You call out whispering while walking slowly over to the bed with your hands out to find it.

“Mhmm?” JJ asks rubbing his eyes, trying to locate you in the dark room.

“I’m really scared can I sleep with you?” You ask however JJ only hears the part where you ask to sleep with him.

“What time is it?” He asks, ignoring your question.

“Four.”

He leans up on one arm and lifts his eyebrow. “You come into my room at 4am just to cuddle?” He asks with a sly smile on his face.

You stand there biting the inside of your cheek as rain continues to pour down against the chateau. “Well since I’m scared wouldn’t that be part of the deal?”

“Wait what?” JJ asks sitting up, realizing he must’ve heard you wrong when you first came in.

“The storm is making me scared and anxious so can I sleep with you?” JJ didn’t even realize that Hurricane Agatha has started her wrath against the Outer Banks until you mentioned it.

For most guys a girl coming into their room at four in the morning because they were scared would make them groan and fall back to sleep. But for JJ he could feel his cheeks flushing at the idea of you coming to him for comfort. Even though he didn’t want you to be scared or upset he couldn’t stop his heart beat from increasing at your simple question. It also made him feel good that someone was coming to him for safety and security. He has always acted like your personal security blanket, always protecting you from things, but it made the butterflies in JJ’s stomach flutter every time you came to him.

Just as JJ was about to utter out a sleepy ‘yes, of course’ a loud rumble of thunder basically shakes the chateau causing you to jump into the bed with the blue eyed boy. He chuckles at your response to the loud noise and moves over a bit to give you more room before wrapping an arm around you.

Once JJ looked at your face though he realized it was no laughing matter. From what he could see in the darkly lit room you were scared.

“Hey it’s okay.” He says softly while bringing you close to his chest. In return you wrap your arms around his slender waist, finally allowing yourself to let your emotions out.

Coast jumps onto the bed to see if you were okay as you start to whimper and cry into JJ’s chest. “Shhh it’s going to be okay. It’s just some bad weather and everything will fine soon.” JJ coos, resting his large hand on the back of your head and rubbing his thumb softly against your hair.

JJ knew how scared you were of storms and hurricanes. At times he’s almost certain you have a phobia of them. It made sense for them to make you scared though, after all they were linked to the first traumatic event you’ve ever experienced.

In 2011 hurricane Irene made land fall in OBX and the destruction was devastating. However, the destruction you saw outside wasn’t as close to the destruction hurricane Irene caused to your life. You remember vividly watching your dad leave your small house in the cut, blowing kisses to you and your mom standing on the porch before he left for work. He was a first responder and that was the last time you ever saw him alive. One storm derailed your entire life even at a young age.

Your parents were already struggling financially to begin with, since the only source of income your family received was from your dad. Your mom was in school to become a surgeon and you guys were drowning in student debt because of it. However, it was going to be all worth it when your mom finally got her dream job, but that never happened. Once your dad died your mom dropped out of school and settled to be a nurse instead, which was still a good job however, it was still a horrible time in your life.

As your panic attack takes full strength hiccups and coughs fall out of your mouth. It felt like the dark room was shrinking as your chest contracted and windpipe tightened. “I can’t breathe.” You gasp out while you push yourself away from the boy that loved you more than life itself. Your hand reached up towards your throat and you start to scratch at the delicate skin as if to make a hole so you could finally breathe.

JJ has been your closest friend since you could remember and he knows you like the back of his hand. With that being said he’s been there with you for countless of panic attacks.

The blonde quickly sits up, disturbing Coast who just laid down at the end of the bed. He grabs your hand with his and brings it down to your side as he hovered over top of you. Your chest continued to heave up and down with tears streaming down your face.

“Y/N look at me.” JJ says concerned, starring down into your red eyes. You listen to what your best friend had to say and made eye contact with him, but your panic attack continued.

“Take a deep breath. Follow me.” He says taking a deep breath through his nose then letting it out of his mouth. You repeat what JJ does to the best of your ability, causing JJ to nod his head in encouragement. Not long after, your panic attack finally subsided and you were reeling from trauma you just faced physically and mentally.

JJ moves the hair that was sticking to your face and drying tears before placing the blanket over top of you and lying down himself. “Thank you J.” You softly mumble out.

“I’m always here for you.” The blonde simply says then places a kiss on the back of your head. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer when he hears the wind outside to continue to whip and whirl, but you were too scared and mentally drained to react to the sounds you hated.

After a few moments of neither of you saying anything JJ decides to speak up, not knowing if you were awake or not. “Y/N?”

“Yea J?”

“I know storms and hurricanes bring back bad memories for you, but have you ever thought about it in a different perspective?”

“What do you mean?” You ask pulling yourself closer to JJ’s chest when you hear a loud crack come from outside. Another tree just became another victim of hurricane Agatha.

“Like what if when ever there’s storms and they get bad just try to think that it’s your dad saying hi to you or blowing kisses to you from where ever he is.”

JJ wasn’t the type of person to talk about deep and personal stuff, but when it came to you he was an open book and vice versa for you. Although, since JJ was so used to being closed off in that sense he didn’t give the best advice, but what he just said was perfect.

You’ve never thought about storms in that light, you would only associate them with negative experiences and emotions, but JJ’s simple sentence gave a whole new meaning and positive light to them. Of course his statement wasn’t going to get rid of your fear of storms, but it was a start.

And in that moment you were so grateful for the blonde and blue eyed boy, more than he would ever know.

Question of the day: Whats your biggest fear?

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idontblushsrry · 4 years ago

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Yusuke Urameshi||SFW Alphabet

A/N: Writing for one of my favorite protagonists of all time? Don’t mind if I do. Slightest hint of spoilers for the end of the series and s3 but they’re really minor and and mostly non-specific.

Word Count: 1929

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Yusuke is affectionate in a kinda subtle way, like he’ll put his hand in your pocket (in your back pocket if you let him) or vice versa, he just likes touching you and being close to you. The clingiest he’ll get is wrapping his arm around your shoulder or waist and pulling you closer so he can kiss you. Aside from that, Yusuke’s go to with affection is teasing, like if he isn’t messing with you or yall aren’t bickering, he’s probably really upset.

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

As a best friend, Yusuke is super rowdy. He’s always getting into some form of trouble or antics, and while this does calm down after the demon world tournament, he’s still always got that mischievous air about him. Your friendship probably started with you and Yusuke bumming around the same spots, namely the arcade, and you showing him how to beat one of the games.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Yusuke’s cuddles are very lax, he tends to just throw an arm around your waist and call it a day. He prefers being the big spoon but he doesn’t really like spooning all that much to begin with.

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yusuke is actually pretty good at cooking and cleaning. Atsuko left him home alone a lot with nothing more than a will and a way (maybe a microwave meal when he was younger). So while Yusuke isn’t the best cook, he won’t go hungry, and he’s more than content to empty the cabinet before going back to the store. As for cleaning, he’s pretty good at that once he has a direction to go in. He doesn’t always know what all needs to be taken care of but give him something to do and he’ll do it.

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Yusuke definitely breaks up with you in person. No matters the conditions of your break up, you mean a lot to him; even in breaking up, he feels it’s best that he tell you face to face.

F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Yusuke is a committed person who’s very casual about marriage. He’s not pushy when it comes to getting married, he already knows he wants to be with you as long as possible. It’s all really up to what you’d want, maybe he’d get married for the sake of being able to say he’s married but otherwise, he doesn’t feel one way or the other.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Yusuke isn’t really gentle, at least that’s the way he wants to come off, but he really has a heart of gold. Yusuke is gentle with you in a way that he is with no one else. He speaks to you in such a gentle tone of voice, one that sets all your nerves at ease. The way he holds isn’t gentle, but firm, like he’s giving you the promise of safety and security without even using words.

H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

Yusuke doesn’t hug all that often. When he does hug you, it’s usually out of excitement, like he’s so overjoyed that he can’t help hugging you.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)

Yusuke just says it one day randomly and late as all hell. Like you and him could be together for a year before he just randomly goes “you know I love you, right?”

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

You can’t take jealous Yusuke anywhere. He will act a damn fool and try and puff his chest out to try and intimidate the person he’s jealous of. The worst part is if Puu’s there, he’ll be copying Yusuke but trying to get your attention onto him instead. Together, the both of them are menaces.

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Yusuke’s kisses are like a burst of sun after being inside all day, invigorating, exciting, and warm. The both of you have smiled into your fair share of kisses and often times Yusuke’s kisses leave you giddy and walking on air.

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

Yusuke is actually surprisingly good with kids. He knows how to look out for them since he’s used to taking care of others, plus his whole tough guy with a heart of gold shtick really endears him to little kids.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Yusuke kind of depend; if he wants to open his ramen cart early, and you’re awake, it’s mostly the two of you getting ready and prepping food for the ramen cart. If he wants to open a little later, Yusuke buries his head into your neck, leaving lazy kisses along your neck and jaw while the both of you just hold each other sleepily.

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Yusuke usually cooks dinner for the both of you, he makes a whole show of it too. He says he does it selflessly but he always wears his kiss the cook apron “coincidentally” whenever he makes dinner. Afterwards, when the both of you head to bed, you’ll both spend the night giving each other slow kisses until the both of you fall asleep.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Admittedly, it does take Yusuke some time to truly open up to you. All his life pretty much, he’s been told he was useless and that he’d never achieve anything beyond being a delinquent monster, so it takes him some time to be vulnerable with you due to fear of rejection. He’s especially slow to reveal information about his true heritage. But once Yusuke trusts you enough to reveal his insecurities, he’s in love with you.

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Yusuke, while having absolutely zero patience with anyone, is very patient with you. Sure you go back and forth with him but even then, he never raises his voice.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Yusuke comes off as not caring or remembering details about you, but if anyone knows you, it’s Yusuke. He knows you better than you know yourself, and it’s mainly because of his attention to minor details, ones that you might not even notice about yourself.

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite part in your relationship was when you went to the beach with the gang and you and him teamed up to prank Kuwabara. It was honestly the most fun he’d had in a while up to that point and the delight in your expression from being so devious made his heart skip a metaphorical beat or two.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Yusuke’s super protective of you, the boy’s got a lot of enemies. While he doesn’t really think any of his demon ones would step out of line, he’s got plenty of human ones who’d be willing to mess with you to get to him. Not to mention you could just plain get robbed or attacked in general, Yusuke trusts you but he definitely shields you from any danger. As observant as he strangely is though, he is still a bit dumb when it comes to the fact that you’re looking out for him just as much as he’s looking out for you

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Yusuke puts a decent amount of effort into your dates, it wasn’t always this way. Initially, Yusuke and you would just have dates that consisted of going to malls/arcades/bowling/etc. and it was all good, neither of you had a problem with it. However for the first birthday of yours that you’d both be spending together, he was just planning for the both of you to go to a park, something small, when Kuwabara and Keiko found out, they gave him an earful. Now, he still does “simple” dates, but he always tries to do something fun or unexpected for your anniversaries or special events

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs? (I’m gonna add arguments here because they aren’t on the prompt list I found))

Yusuke doesn’t have bad habits as he has gross habits. Like this man will probably burp in your face at least once (on accident) and it’s kinda just up to you to deal with that. As for fights, post-end of the series, you don’t really argue about much, you and Yusuke just bicker, but hey it works for you. During the series though, your heavy fights consist of you getting upset at the way Yusuke is always so ready to sacrifice his life (he does this a looooot)

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not to be fooled, Yusuke is extremely concerned with his looks. No one who purposefully slicks their hair back with gel almost everyday from the age of 14 isn’t. He tries not to take too long, but if he can’t get the coif right, you’re going to be waiting for a long time.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

It isn’t so much as he feels incomplete without you, he just doesn’t feel worthy of being with you. He spends as much time as you’ll allow proving you didn’t waste your time on him (despite the fact that he literally doesn’t need to do that)

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

The closest he has to prior relationship experience is Keiko. The whole thig with Keiko was initially something of a hurdle due to the fact that they were kind of each other’s first love and they’re still friends, however, you got through it together and now Keiko is a source of advice for you, along with Kurama and Genkai.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

In general, he doesn’t really like underhanded people. He sees the validity of the strategy, in the sense of outwitting an opponent larger or more powerful than you, but even then the thought of losing to someone or defeating someone in an underhanded way is disgusting to him (see the entirety of dark tournament arc to see why he hates underhandedness)

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Yusuke snores. Not all the time, but when he’s really tired, the man sounds like an old car engine. He is LOUD and if you aren’t a heavy sleeper or already asleep, good luck getting any sleep because just when you lay your head down to relax, he snores loud enough to shake the whole of your apartment complex.

#yu yu hakusho imagine #yu yu hakusho x reader #yu yu hakusho imagines #yusuke x reader #yusuke urameshi #urameshi x reader #yusuke yyh #x reader #x black reader #idontblushsrry #getting back into the feel of writing for yyh

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crystalelemental · 2 years ago

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Unit Teambuilding - Naomi

I don’t know why she’s here. I don’t know why I’m here. This is not my beautiful house. This is not my beautiful wife.

General Overview Okay look. Initially, this was my big salt for the month. I’m not thrilled that an NPC trainer gets in before the myriad gym leaders and important characters that are still left hanging. But on the other hand, this means an NPC trainer class got in before Victor, and that’s probably the funniest thing DeNA’s ever done.

Naomi’s weird. She’s a Ground-type special striker, with...Sandslash. Well known for special damage. I do like Sandslash a lot though, I can’t complain. What’s cool is that it’s with Earth Power. I love Earth Power. I think I have unreasonable respect for the move because of Explorers of Sky. I think that’s what all the Nidoqueen spam in the final dungeon that keeps killing you from across the hall. Anyway, being a special damage dealer is...problematic, because of Courtney and Ingo. See, Naomi’s passives focus on Sandstorm, but Ingo’s really bad at Sandstorm for her, because all he provides is +2 special attack. He can give the crit and eventually help with speed, but it’s not seriously helpful. Naomi needs speed to activate her multipliers, and Ingo works too slowly, so she’s clicking her trainer move anyway, which also provides crit. It’s just really slow setup even with the known best Sandstorm support. And Courtney can supply Zone, but her entire life is defense debuffs, and Naomi doesn’t benefit. She is the only Ground-type damage dealer that doesn’t benefit. As a result, Naomi’s in this really awkward position of being a pretty unique sync pair, but in the same way that unique is sometimes what you say about something when you’re trying not to hurt anyone’s feelings.

And I kinda love it. Maybe it’s just catharsis after the ridiculous Anniversary sync pairs, but I like the fact that this isn’t game-breaking. I like the fact that this unit poses a challenge to apply. And I like that it actually pays off. When supported, Naomi can out-perform Hapu. She’s a free unit with clear limitations, but a pretty impressive threshold to reach. To say nothing of the fact that she’s also packing On a Roll 3, and can, theoretically, facilitate her own debuffs. I dunno, man. I like this one. I’m kinda hoping they keep this up. Just give us little events with free NPC characters like this. It’s a lot more interesting than those limited time event trainers that are all Kantonian, except Bugsy whose existence was completely ignored for over a year now for not being Kantonian.

Team 1: Naomi, Ingo, Courtney/Lucian This is...about as close as we can get. Zone application, Sandstorm support, it’s...trying. But Courtney does exactly nothing for Naomi, since she’s meant to support physical damage dealers. So, legitimately, you can drop Courtney for a special defense debuffer like Lucian, to power up her attacks. The debuffs actually add up to better damage than the Zone once they’re capped out, so it may legitimately be a better call for consistent damage. It’s also worth noting that Naomi can’t take her sync build for on-type and also pick up On a Roll 3, so it definitely helps to have support.

Team 2: SS Kris, Anni Raihan, Naomi Anyone else watch Zinfogel? SS Kris can provide speed buffs when she’s hit, alongside the special attack/speed combination that is otherwise had to acquire. You can keep Rain up during setup phase, to allow stacks of special moves up next. Then, switch to Sandstorm on Raihan, after he’s set up Mind Boggler. Raihan can debuff special defense, set up Supereffective Up Next and moves up next for Naomi. With Kris and Raihan both providing stacks of special moves up next, Naomi’s able to hit silly damage numbers.

Team 3: BP Janine, Naomi, Acerola Okay, this is my attempt at a legitimate, F2P approach to this ground-type damage. Acerola can set Sandstorm, and has a high flinch rate to potentially stall out opponents. BP Janine provides offensive support, as well as speed, and one point of crit through Team Sharp Entry. Naomi can use two trainer moves to set up her needed speed and crit, Janine can just focus on buffing special attack for her with one MPR on trainer move, and Naomi is ready for her Sandstorm multipliers. Is this team good? ...actually kinda maybe. Naomi’s damage output isn’t too bad when properly facilitated. She can grab On a Roll 3 by taking off a sync damage node, and actually facilitate her own needed debuffs. It’s not quite as easily set up as Hapu, and she won’t have the AoE nuke, but her damage numbers are...actually higher in a similar F2P context where Hapu doesn’t have Zone. Honestly the bigger concern is whether Janine can dodge, and whether Acerola hits her flinches.

Final Thoughts Did you know Naomi has Brain Sync 3? Yeah. The same skill Anni Lillie has. First Thunderbolt Red takes her sole selling point gimmick alongside Anni N’s and C!Elesa’s, and now her only sync multiplier is on a free unit that’s a generic NPC trainer. I’m going to cry.

But in all seriousness, this is fun. I love this. I love units that aren’t unstoppable, and need some kind of structure to succeed, but actually pay off. I want more of this. I legitimately hope we get more NPC trainers. XY female Ace Trainer when? I know Hex Maniac will beat her out, but I desperately want that Ace Trainer, she’s so cute.

#pokemon masters #naomi #unit teambuilding

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years ago

Note

Hello there, I really liked your writing and especially the prompt with enemy forces attack and lack of oxygen! May I ask you to write it with Perceptor and Drift? (Separately, just in case). Thank you in advance!)

Got a ninja boy and a science boy here for you anon!

Got some links to the previous posts for this prompt!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: You're Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight! Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Perceptor

·Your arrival on the ship required him to work with the medics to ensure you could survive on it, and that obviously included working with you quite frequently to gather data, which eventually evolved into you assisting directly as the upgrades were put into place. Though he was initially hesitant to admit your presence was nice and he briefly stalled on finishing the upgrades just to spend more time together, you wore him down enough that he eventually relented and confessed to wanting you around. In the short time since things have come very far, enough so that he freely requests your aid in projects, chatting idly as he makes use of your tiny size and encouraging demeanor.

·This is exactly what you're up to today, though you're in the shooting range as opposed to your usual set up in the lab. While he's more than confident in his ability to handle this experimental weapon, he needs it here for when it's finally tested, and your small hands are ideal for a final stability check. A barely observable feeling in his spark registers as excited pride for you to see the weapon in action, but he keeps that to himself... It's bad enough someone walked in on the two of you holding hands as much as your differing sizes allowed the other day, and he doesn't need any more embarrassment.

·There's still a tiny smile on his face as he takes the first few shots, and the accuracy combined with the little cheer from you makes it impossible to keep it from growing. He's about to remark that this is only the first trial of the adjustable blaster, and thus not inductive of its real potential, when he's interrupted by a garbled communication. As you watch him answer, it's hard to hold back reasurance at the hint of frustration on his face, because you know him well enough to understand he doesn't appreciate the disturbance while trying to show off to you. Perhaps one day you'd let him know how easy he was for you to read.

·Well accustomed to frantic requests for his assistance, Perceptor finds himself unexpectedly surprised when the transmission is nearly inaudible, and the message from the bridge proves to be nothing more than a few broken sentences mentioning crashes and security systems before going dead. Not certain what could possibly be causing the ship he personally inspects to suffer malfunctions but knowing it must be corrected, he immediately plans to set off and get to the bottom of things. Securing the weapon into its holster on his back, he offers his hand to transport you with him, surmising you'll be safest with him at least until they have a better idea of what's going on. Of course he already has some theories, but he never acts without evidence.

·Glad to come along, even if only to help him run through some ideas, you happily take your place in his palm. Being without a vehicular mode means he pretty much had to get accustomed to carrying you everywhere he wanted to take you, as it takes quite a few steps for you to match one of his. Now he rather likes being able to hold you in a way that enables easy conversation, especially because as he walks and looks down to you in his palm and you look up at him with those genuinely fascinated eyes... It's nice. Currently he's listing the usual suspects for spacefaring trouble; solar flares, electric storms, debris collisions, and how none of them seem the likely culprit here for various reasons. You've seen him enter this state of unparalleled focus many times, and can't help but wish the circumstances could be better, because you love seeing him in his element.

·Both of you have a rather unfortunate awakening when a series of tremors pass through the ship and nearly knock him to the floor, something he prevents with quick reflexes that momentarily turn your world dark, a phenomenon you realize in an instant was caused by both of his hands cupping protectively around you. When they part you're left peaking upwards through digits at a somewhat concerned and bashful bot. Affirming you're alright, you watch as he gets moving again in an instant, now in full crisis mode after your little tumble. You know enough to be equally concerned by this turn of events, particularly because spaceships aren't known for their tremors.

·Talking as he walks, he has every one of his sharp senses on full alert for the trouble he knows will be coming, including his sense of touch to keep tabs on your small body in his hands. Being aware of every single potential problem means he knows quite well you could be in danger already. It worries him, to a level of concern he's not accustomed to feeling after experiencing so much combat. You can see the anxiety he's trying so hard to work through. There's a crackle in his spark that bots only have when very on edge, and you're close enough to hear it through his armored chest, spurring you to reach out and lay a hand against the warm metal. For a moment his optics meet your eyes, and at your reassuring smile he seems to regain some measure of calm control. His mind quickly uses that to put together a plan.

·While that tremor very likely came from an anchoring weapon on an enemy vessel, none of that explains the system shutdowns precluding it, and he needs to know the full extent of the threat before he can launch a counterattack. Most bots would need a well established access point to get diagnostics for the whole ship, but thankfully he's a bit more skilled than that. Explaining that he merely needs a workstation with any kind of physical connection to the main network, he begins what he is certain will be a quick search, and while you're delighted by the boost he obviously feels thanks to feeling in control you're a bit too tired to celebrate. Not wanting him to know the stress of the situation is wearing you down, your smile remains steadfast to give him the strength he needs.

·As he predicted, finding something suitable for his needs is a breeze, and he's so distracted by the impending answers he doesn't notice you growing drowsy in his palms. Though the small room is little more than a relay station for routine power inspection, it's perfect for what he has planned, and he places you on a nearby table as he gets to work. Even if your head were clear the flurry of activity he follows with wouldn't make sense. Somehow a motley collection of dust covered components becomes rewired into a humming piece of... something in what feels like minutes, and you absolutely beam with pride to see your partner pulling up the information he needs on a monitor, heavy eyelids lifted by your desire to watch him work more wonders.

·Data starts flowing through his makeshift diagnostic scanner in moments, and Perceptor watches intently as the ship's systems flash their readouts in order, though even he can't keep his expression calm as he all too rapidly puts together the horrifying pieces. They haven't just been boarded; they've been sabotaged. Most of the damage is meant to neuter their defenses and hinder any attempt at an organized counterattack, but one key readout tells him that you in particular are in the most dire need of assistance. The atmospheric generators and oxygen stabilizers he personally optimized for your benefit are going haywire, and the air you need to survive is rapidly being drained from the ship. The sheer size of the vessel, and the ability of its crew to keep the attackers at bay for this long, is the only reason you're still alive. In an instant he's on the move.

·You're cupped in oversized palms just as you realize you were laying down for a nap you didn't know had snuck up on you. Bleary in your head as well as your eyes, you hear him speak in the flat, rapid manner that he only uses when something critical is on the line. While his inflection is clear enough for you to catch his basic meaning, for the life of you it's just not possible to panic as much as you should, and his explanation of a plan doesn't register in the slightest. You know it should, and you feel awful for being so calm while he needs you, but the strength for you to be what he needs just isn't there. There is enough clarity for you to register one thing though, namely how closely he's cradling you to his chest. Such an open display of caring and concern is usually not something you see from him. A part of you rather likes it.

·Cold fear that he's come quite unaccustomed to creeps through him as he takes off through the ship. The medical bay is his ideal destination, as he helped create the human catered medical equipment already there, but he knows that time being of the essence means he has to plan for every possible situation, including those far from ideal. What matters is getting you oxygen, fast. The data on human biology made it impossibly clear; every minute without adequate oxygen is critical. Horrifying possibilities run through his mind, the diagrams of cell death he memorized almost taunting him as you appear to grow weaker with every passing breath. Feelings he'd long since forgotten, powerlessness and grief, eat away at him as he internally bemoans his lack of an altmode.

·You feel incredibly guilty as he grows more panicked, but sleep beckons far too strongly for you to resist it long. There's a part of you that knows his incredibly brilliant mind struggles when he doesn't feel in control, to the point he breaks reality at times to regain that handle on the world around him. So seeing you like this and being unable to do much in the moment... no doubt it's tearing him apart. Words don't come easy at the moment, and in fact you realize there's no way to form them at all, but still you try to reassure him. There's so much panic in the spark he holds you beside, and you do everything you can to convey that none of this is his fault. Gently splaying your fingers over the warm metal, you feel the world around you become little more than a blur.

·For a moment the path before him is filled with enemies. He nearly barrels into them rounding a corner, but not a moment is wasted once he has a full count of their number. One hand cradling you protectively, his other grabs the weapon he'd been testing with you before, and the still recovering alien soldiers become nothing more than an impromptu accuracy test. Even for him the precise carnage that follows is unimaginable. A series of heads jerk backwards before hulking bodies go limp, and in mere moments the threat is little more than a pile of confused looking corpses, but there's no time to celebrate. He's off with the weapon in hand for any future attacks.

·You hear him speaking to you as the last vestiges of your strength finally give way. He's trying to sound calm as he urges you to retain consciousness, but for once it's a losing effort, as you can hear the crack in his performance. It makes you sadder than anything else thus far. Particularly because you simply can't stay awake a moment longer. There's just too much weight in your limbs, and the warm darkness promises you a break, so you simply have to give in. All you can hope is that he'll understand neither one of you is to blame, and that you'll be able to wake up and tell him that yourself, but you're not especially worried about the latter half.

·He feels you go completely limp just as the medical bay and laboratory signs come into view. Now in a blind desperation, he makes a split second decision to head for his lab, reasoning that the medical bay will certainly be crowded due to current circumstances. Everything he'll need can be found in his various tools, and he can't waste a moment waiting on anyone else, even the medics. He can recall so clearly the human texts now, how the phenomenon of suffocation was described, and the resulting smothering of irreplaceable cells... Your tiny body is still breathing, but how much damage has already been inflicted? What parts of you has he failed to save? Not knowing is tearing him apart.

·Brainstorm is the only one in the lab, and he looks momentarily relieved to see Perceptor enter, saying something about restoring communication before catching sight of the little body in his hands. A frantic recommendation to bring them to the medical bay is met with curt dismissal as he lays you on an open work slab. There's no time to entrust this to anyone else, and in his mind the supplies he needs are already listed clear as day, including where to find them and what order he needs them in to maximize efficiency. Conscious thought is almost nonexistent as he works with record speed. The only times he stops are when his traitorous optics glance to your tiny body, and each glimpse is like an icy dagger to his spark. This isn't it. It can't be it. He won't lose the one he cares about more than anything.

·The tank of oxygen and the human sized ventilation system are hooked up to your frightfully still face with the care of a diamondsetter. He's able to get the readings of your improvement quickly, as the oxygen levels in the ship were apparently not yet low enough to do real damage, but he feels no comfort. All of his mind is still in chaos from the helplessness he can't yet shake. The fog is so deep that he barely notices Brainstorm return with a glowering Ratchet, and he only replies in curt affirmations or negations when the medic begins questioning your condition, doing so somewhat gruffly due to the inconvenience of having to move you later. With only a confirmation from the other mech you'll be in his care, he heads back out into the ship, weapon in hand and optics cold as he sets about securing Autobot victory one shot at a time.

·By the time you awaken the battle is over and the Lost Light is back to near total functionality. A calm voice instructs you to keep your oxygen mask on just a little longer to be safe, and you see Perceptor sitting beside you in the small recovery room. Having the basic pieces of everything more or less clear in your head, your immediate concern is him, which is only made worse by the scratches and scuffs on his usually well maintained armor. Barely able to stay where you are, the questions begin to pour forth as you reach a hand out to him. There's an uncharacteristically exhausted smile on his face as he reaches out a servo for you to hold. The expression is an obvious mask, made only more strained by the fake flatness of his assurance that he's fine, and that he only endured minor damage while cleaning out the last of the enemy. You know he's lying about that and more.

·Despite your ability to read him, you're still surprised when he cracks in a heartbreaking moment. His shoulders shake, his helm falls forward, and he leans heavily against the berth as your gentle prompt forces it all to the surface. By his standards he's a wreck, though his sobs are barely audible and could easily be mistaken for rough ventilations, and he makes it clear he's aware of how pathetic he looks. But how can he be okay? You needed him, and it was his own system that had failed you, with a second rate cyber attack no less. He should have seen that coming from the onset! He should have prepared! He can't seem to find the ground beneath him as he shakes, and in that instant you find strength far beyond your tiny body, and you use it to claw your way towards him. Seeing this makes him panic, and when he tries to gently stop your efforts you grab him tight, looking deep into those optics as you remind him he doesn't have to know everything. There will be times he's up against the unknown and unexpected, but his determination and strength have always driven him forward, and that's what you fell in love with. As you speak he seems to regain himself, and you hold him as tight as you can while emphasizing that even if everything feels out of control, you'll always be here to figure it out beside him. There's a sigh of relief he doesn't bother to hide as his world stabilizes, and once again you and he are right where you belong, hand in hand at the center.

Drift

·Having spent time on earth made him rather familiar with humans, and that combined with his first hand experience being an outsider in a group made him determined to ensure you were welcome on the ship. Needless to say, his efforts were more than a little successful. Now he's trying to teach you self defense in your shared quarters, which requires some creative thinking to ensure your safety. He's still got you using lightweight staffs in the place of anything sharp, and being a beginner, you can't complain too much. Though it's hard not to laugh when something occasionally gets bonked, yourself included, and even he chuckles despite all attempts to appear the dedicated teacher. Even with these distractions you learn a lot, but it's hard not to just enjoy how gentle he is when adjusting your stance, his proportionally massive hands holding you as if you might shatter in an instant.

·Thankfully he has full control of his reactions when the ship unexpectedly spasms, and his cupped palm prevents you from tumbling to the floor as the tremors settle back to absolute stillness, allowing you to look up at Drift just as he opens his communication line to Rodimus. The captain is able to give a brief rant about an ambush and systems crashing all over before the line begins to break, and you see your steadfast partner visibly distress as he loses contact with his friend, getting only a few garbled bits of information before the line goes entirely silent. An attempt by you to establish contact on your own communicator finds no success either. For all of his usual calm, the mech still supporting you looks ready to fight as he acknowledges trouble is inbound.

·To your surprise, he lifts you clear off the floor in a single move, talking fast as he secures his weapons and prepares for what he says will be a run for the most secure parts of the ship. Even if he's one of the key bots for defense in the event of something just like this, he has to get you to safety, or at least somewhere relatively well protected. There's a few key locations he can think of; the headquarters for security, the laboratories, the medical bay, and a few others he's memorized for... well, this exact purpose. The moment a tiny human changed his world he had drafted countless protective measures to ensure their safety, because he knew the dangers they would face all too well. Unfortunately he's having a hard time keeping them all in track now, especially with creeping fear tainting his reason and ability to plan ahead.

·Catching the worry he never admits to having, and admittedly plenty afraid yourself, you help him focus by calmly asking for the closest place he knows of that's secure. Mask of calm returning in an instant, he smiles and decides to go for the main laboratory. Perceptor is likely there, getting whatever experimental defense apparatus he's currently testing up and running to expel incoming threats. There likely won't be a safer place in the universe once he's prepared. Drift keeps to himself that there's an unspoken understanding between them regarding you, namely that the reserved scientist will protect you with the same level of veracity he would his former battle partner. Unfortunately that vow may be getting tested very shortly... Yet he keeps smiling, refusing to let his fear dampen your energy as he decides it's time to make his move. Somehow you feel just as heavy in his hand as the sword on his back as he makes sure you're secure.

·Accustomed to being carried by him in a number of ways, you notice his grip is different the instant he steps into the hallway, his digits curled in a way that screams protection just as much as his narrowed optics radiate apprehension despite trying to appear calm. You know he's protective by nature, but this is different. Every part of him is working in unison to move with as little noise as possible, his senses alert and scanning for threats as he hurries through the ship far more silently than you would have ever expected for a bot his size. In all your time together he's never been so outwardly on edge. Through his shameful confessions you know of his past, and you know of his skill in eliminating threats, so to see him nervous is actually a touch alarming in itself.

·There's a quick whisper from him that he believes enemies may be unavoidable no matter what path he takes. Should there be combat, he warns, he wants you to remain hidden or at least in cover until he's eliminated the threat. Should they overpower him however, your goal will be escape through whatever means necessary. The idea of dying to protect his partner doesn't give him any pause. Instead, his only focus is on ensuring you know every tool at your disposal to get to safety. Thoughts of sending you through the vents give him little comfort, but his feelings are hardly a priority, as nothing matters beyond you. You who saw past his sins, who'd given him a home in your boundless heart, and who had brought nothing but joy and light into his life. If he could guarantee anything by sheer force of will, it was your survival.

·You want to remind him that you're not the only one who matters here. Though you don't have any of his great strength or speed, you're certainly not going to let him be taken from you, as surviving without him would hardly be a victory. But holding on to that conversation is all you can do for now. The danger is real if you draw unwanted attention through speech, and so you keep the thoughts to yourself, saving them for the time you both would have to talk when this was over. Stress is oddly nonexistent as the air crackles around you from tension, perhaps signaling you've become so anxious it's all come full circle and turned you calm. Still, you keep a firm hold on him from your position of cover. Spectralism has encouraged him to be incredibly sensitive to the world around him, so you hope your tiny self focusing on calm will help give him some comfort.

·Unfortunately your efforts are given no time to pay off. Without making so much as a sound, he pushes himself flat against a wall and shushez you as he does so, allowing you to catch the faintest hint of what alarmed him; the sound of very alien movement. Trained audials lock in on the most likely direction of the source, which gives him the information he needs to come to an important decision; there's no getting around this particular group. As time to wait them out simply doesn't exist, he's left to confirm that fighting is his only choice, and with that lays you down on the floor beside a vent opening. Having known this might happen does nothing to quell your panic when you realize you're being left on the sidelines. This mech leaves you no time to argue before silently slipping around the corner to end things quickly.

·There's a team of Cybertronian sized lifeforms so surprised by his arrival they only have time to clumsily draw their weapons before the first one is neatly cut to pieces. Double blades make short work of the next few, and the mess of alien blood barely registers as he moves in a kind of trance, unwilling to let himself waste a moment of time unleashing the frustration and anger he so desperately wants to take out on these intruders. There's no doubt in his mind they'd hurt you if given the chance, but his logic keeps him in check to ensure he doesn't lose himself to the rage such a thought tempts him with. Cold precision is what he needs to most effectively end this quickly, and the method is proven effective when the last enemy falls in pieces, all without a single mark on his own armor. Save for the few spatters of alien blood, but he hardly notices such a minor detail.

·You're a little more concerned when he returns dripping with the mess of battle, but a quick reasurance and a noting of the lack of energon's distinctive pink glow puts most of your worries to rest. Still, you cling tightly to him as he picks you back up, whispering your thanks despite the loud clamor of the recent battle. It's a small victory when your gratitude makes him smile once again. Reminding you that he took a vow to protect you, he holds you close again and sets back off, assuming the same strategy of silent travel as before. It's oddly less tense this time, as if seeing what he's up against gave him the confidence to overcome his own worries for your sake. Whatever the case, you gladly take the result, already worn out from all the excitement of his recent battle.

·A brief burst of communication gives him pause, and you're equally baffled by the sudden transmission until he takes cover and answers. The commanding bots make something clear for the short message they've been able to transmit; Drift needs to get you to the medical bay. A rapid explanation of how the shipwide errors includes the atmospheric generators puts it all together in horrifying detail. Oxygen levels are dropping on all the sensors, they explain before the line cuts out, and while it's happening slowly there's still precious little time. He doesn't need any further instructions when silence descends over you both once more. You, however, can barely grasp the full extent of what you've just been told. After all, you feel fine! Well... mostly fine, perhaps things are a bit more wobbly than they should be.

·You're embraced as his expression briefly cracks into full worry. There's a whispered promise to get you to safety before he's once again on the move, all the on edge energy from before filling his coiled body as it hurries through the ship at impressive speeds. Strategy doesn't come easily as you try to think of the best way to save your breath. Keeping calm is hardly an option with everything going on, but you give it your best shot. You just need to stay awake and as relaxed as possible until he reaches the medical bay. It's harder than it should be already, but you persevere, lying down in his hand to keep the world from spinning all around you. Being close to him helps just a little bit. It helps you believe that the two of you will be fine, that he'll get to where he needs to be without trouble, and that everything is going to be smooth sailing from here.

·But of course, his luck allows for no such fortune. In the next moment he's being forced to tuck you away without a word of warning, the sound of an even more aggressive group of attackers forcing him to act before you can be hurt. He tries to dominate the battle like he did the last one, using his anger for fuel but never allowing it to take control, and his blades respond well to the strategy at first. However, this group is larger than the last, and thus his ambush simply doesn't buy him enough time to defeat them all. Soon blaster shots are flying and counterattacks are being hurled in his direction. All he can think about is you lying just out of sight, and how little time he has for this, and that these beings are all perfectly fine ending your life with such a cowardly tactic... It's an emotional powder keg, and the spark is finally lit when a not so lucky alien manages to cut a shallow gash across his side. The harsh burn of the injury sets him off just as you manage to glance down the hallway.

·Calm and calculated combat becomes a brutal beat down of anything he can get his swords through. A snarl reveals his shamefully concealed canines as he turns his blades into instruments of revenge instead of mere tools to victory. Even as your vision spins you can see him carving the increasingly fewer number of enemies without any of his usual grace, his expression one of blind fury as he eviscerates his enemies and something like a smile pulling up on his lips through their snarl. Some part of him is enjoying this, you realize. Even though he doesn't linger or draw out his moves, you can see he's going for absolute brutality in his kills. He wants these aliens to hurt for what they've done, and while you can't feel any pity for them, you know he's going to agonize over this later. He's often confided a fear of his own mind, citing moments like these where he just wants the enemy to hurt, and you know he firmly believes goodness is beyond him because of this.

·There's a thrill as he clears the last enemy, despite a few additional injuries of his own to show for it. No one was going to harm his beloved human and keep their limbs intact. He's still flashing the artificially sharpened canines that usually bring him such shame when he turns to see you watching. Pride vaporizes to horror in an instant, both from the realization that he gave in to temptation and that you saw him partake in such senseless brutality, and only the continued need to move lets him approach and lift you once more. Apologies pour out of his voicebox as he returns to running, begging your forgiveness for having exposed you to the worst parts of himself and failing to control them at your most vulnerable. Guilt tears him apart as he sees you've begun to lose clarity in the growing absence of oxygen.

·Unconsciousness pulls at you despite your resistance, and you force yourself to stay alert enough to keep him reassured. Had you the words your emphasis would have been on comforting him in the wake of his loss of control, particularly in regards to how you weren't afraid and never would be, as that piece was just a small part of the actual him you knew. Did he reject you for your failings? No, you wished you could say, and that you would never leave him for the same reason. As it was, you could only suck in deep breaths and hope he might read the conviction in your eyes. You want so badly for him to see you're not even upset with him, but your more coherent thoughts on the subject are starting to fade as well. Assurances that you will always support him fade into the fog overtaking your mind.

·He feels you slip into unconsciousness and it's like another stab to his already aching spark. Time is running out, and he can certainly take some of the blame for that, can't he? How many precious seconds could have been saved if he just stayed in control and finished the battle without savoring the violence? It's enough guilt that he becomes blind to anything else, charging forward on the most direct path and straight into an ongoing battle between bots and the still invading forces. You're held to his spark with a level of protection a bot would usually reserve for the Matrix, your safety being the only one that matters as he quite literally cuts a path through the enemies, focusing only on getting to the other side as he does so. Without any kind of defense he's quickly suffering a number of injuries, but he either doesn't notice or care as he keeps you free of the danger. The desire for retribution burning in his spark is smothered by a cold refusal to indulge unless he loses what's most worth fighting for.

·Only a lack of operability in his leg slows him down, and by then he's thankfully surrounded more by Autobots than enemies. His heroic charge is credited with turning the fight, but he's heedless to praise and concern as he finds support to stand from an unexpected arrival; Ratchet. Stopping the medic before his own wounds can be addressed, he holds you out wordlessly as his sword clatters to the floor from his other hand. Energon loss he only just now notices makes him wobble, but he insists on waiting until you've been helped, refusing to be treated until he knows you're going to be okay. The medics sort of compromise by tending to him whilst setting you up on the prepared medical slab, and as his considerable injuries are patched up he feels relief plagued by uncertainty. Will you remember what you saw? Will the firsthand experience with his inner demons drive you away? It eats at him in ways no medic can make feel better.

·When you awaken he's also on mandatory rest, and he's moved your tiny self onto a medical slab beside him to keep you close, making his familiar colors the first thing you see upon opening your eyes. You can't bring yourself to care about the oxygen mask on your face when the recently welded scars on his armor shock you into a mild panic. Seeing you awake, he gently shushes your concerns and encourages you to be still, and his position on his side thankfully makes conversing quite simple. At a single, anxious prompt about your memory the moments leading up to your loss of consciousness become clear. Drift quickly assures you that everything is fine, but you catch his look of worry when you confirm your recollection, and a gentle request for more information strikes him hard.

·His apologies are as helpless as they are hopeless. The disgust with himself is nearly tangible as he begs your forgiveness for having exposed you to the worst parts of himself, and it takes far longer than usual to get him to listen to you, perhaps due to the mask muffling your voice. Reiterating that you already accepted his past, you recall the way he held you in the heat of everything just today, and emphasise the sheer volume of injuries he endured to save you. That's the bot you've chosen to love, at the peak of his strength and selflessness and determination... That's who he is, and who he will always be to you. Your reminder soothes the pain in his body and spark. Moving as close as he can on the berth, he takes the moment to appreciate being together once again, his faith in himself given new strength thanks to your boundless love.

#transformers #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #lost light #idw #tf #my writing #my asks #anon #requests #perceptor #drift #perceptor x reader #drift x reader #human reader #self insert #transformers headcanon

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five-rivers · 3 years ago

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Pep Talks 12

I think this might be the longest chapter of Pep Talks so far...

(AO3)

When Clockwork first took Danny on as an apprentice, he’d laid out some ground rules for when he unexpectedly found himself in an unknown timeline. As Apprentice of Time, Danny was more likely to attract anomalies like natural portals and the like, and when that was combined with his innate bad luck regarding portals, well… winding up in weird places wasn’t quite a weekly occurrence, but saying it was wouldn’t have been a huge exaggeration.

That’s all to say, Danny appreciated the rules. He didn’t want to wind up never having been born again, or, worse, making it so that one of his friends had never been born. Or causing an apocalypse. Or wrecking the future. Or—

There were just a lot of problems that he could, and had, caused.

If Clockwork were able to pick Danny up right away every time, most of the rules probably would have been unnecessary. But he wasn’t. Mostly because of physics-shaped problems involving paradoxes and how too many time portals in the same general area could screw things up, but also because of Observant- and politics-shaped problems. And, Clockwork had admitted to Danny, sometime Clockwork left him somewhere because he was supposed to be there.

The first rule was to lay low. Avoid people when possible, except to acquire basic necessities. Avoid major events, crowds, protests, and cameras. Avoid important-looking buildings.

Do not offer help unless asked first, or unless the person is a ghost. There was, evidently, a loophole that made it okay for Danny to interact with ghosts even in places where it wasn’t okay for him to do the same to humans. Clockwork had said ghosts fell under Danny’s ‘jurisdiction,’ a term that seemed just a bit too weighty with meaning for Danny. As for being allowed to help when asked… Well, Clockwork knew that Danny was incapable of not helping. Although he did ask that Danny be subtle and indirect about it.

He was also not supposed to fight anyone unless he himself was directly attacked, for similar reasons.

The fourth rule was to stay within the accepted rules of the world he found himself in, where possible. In other words, if people generally didn’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural, don’t challenge that belief by using his powers in public, but if superpowers were common, it was okay to use them.

The fifth was that, if he found himself in the past, leave civilized areas. With the threat of unpersoning himself hanging over his head, Danny took that one very seriously.

The sixth, the one that made Danny feel like a little kid despite his real age, was, if the previous rule didn’t apply, try to stay in the same general area he first found himself in.

There were others, of course, and special ones for special circumstances. For example, if he was captured by law enforcement, or injured, or actively in danger, or if he didn’t know what time period he was in. Different sets of rules prevailed if he was actually on a mission.

Clockwork had also told him that the rules no loner applied if it took him more than two weeks to find Danny. That, if he’d been waiting for that long, something had gone wrong, or Clockwork was unable to find him or pull him out.

It had been just under half that time, and Danny was starting to get worried. More worried.

He pulled his legs up, closer to himself. He didn’t need to conserve warmth, being what he was, but the action was comforting and the abandoned warehouse he was in was weird and creepy.

This whole timeline was weird and creepy. Also, semi-apocalyptic. They were going through some serious societal upheaval. Danny wasn’t entirely sure why, having only been here for six days, but he was pretty sure it had to do with the nascent ghosts partially overshadowing people and giving them power.

At least, that’s what it felt like. Danny wasn’t sure. The next nearest thing to this he’d ever encountered was a warlock, and that had been just one person. Ghosts were under his jurisdiction, but, like the warlock, the people with powers here didn’t quite feel like ghosts, and he wasn’t sure how trustworthy news sources saying that metahumans were all soulless degenerates were…

Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to find out. Hopefully, Clockwork would pick him up before another week went by.

He didn’t think the government here could actually catch him, but some of the things they apparently did to metahumans made his core ache. It was a very X-Men-like situation. Except, well, set in Japan.

Why Japan?

But! Eight more days. Tops. Clockwork would get him.

Before he’d finished the thought, something blew the door of the warehouse in and a ropelike appendage hurtled towards Danny’s corner.

He reacted. Rules were, if someone attacked him, he could respond in kind, and if superpowers were common knowledge, he could use his.

There were at least a dozen of them, all of them displaying an eclectic array of superpowers, some reminiscent of Danny’s ghostly enemies, others entirely novel to him. A fair few also had guns. One man even used multiple powers. Needless to say, the battle was incredibly one sided.

In Danny’s favor.

Hey, he’d been doing this for years, and he was very comfortable with his abilities. Most of these guys weren’t. Most. The multiple-power guy had been challenging.

Danny examined his captives. He should probably just knock them out, then go find a new hideout somewhere else, but he wanted to know why he was attacked, first.

“So,” he said, deciding that the curly-haired man with multiple powers was probably the leader, given the way the battle had been structured, “why did you and your goons attack me?”

“I heard you were like me,” growled the man, attempting to escape Danny’s telekinetic hold. “I’m looking for a power that can help my brother.”

Danny twitched slightly at the word help. “What do you mean, like you?”

“You can take powers, too,” said the man, staring up at Danny with desperate, hungry, red eyes.

Danny blinked, frowned. “You thought I could help you, or your brother, so you attacked me?” His frown became deeper. “Or did you attack me to, what, steal my powers?”

The man squirmed.

It was. That was such a ridiculous villain cliché, although the brother thing was a twist. People could get desperate about their families and do terrible things.

Including Danny. As had been proven many, many times.

His heart and stance both softened. This counted as a request for help, right? And the guy was sort of ghostly. On the other hand… Transplanting whatever it was giving these people powers willy-nilly couldn’t be healthy, especially if it was related to ghosts.

(Multiple ghosts in one body… It reminded him of his dark future self, which was never good.)

“Okay,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. “Alright. What exactly does your brother need help with?”

The man clearly hadn’t expected Danny to ask this question. “He’s sick,” he said. His eyes gleamed at the edge of tears. “His body is tearing itself apart, DNA molecule by DNA molecule. If I could just find the right ability, I could save him,” the man’s voice broke, “I knowit.”

Molecule by molecule, huh?

Actually… that was something Danny could help with. Crud. People had powers here, right? He was being asked for help, wasn’t he? He was staying within the rules. Especially seeing as these guys were like warlocks. He was only doing warlock stuff.

“If I help you with this—if,” he stressed when the man perked up. “If I help you with this, I need two things from you. Well, three, really. Actually, no, four.”

“Name them,” declared the man.

“Yeah, I was about to,” said Danny. “Anyway, first, you need to ask your brother if he wants this. If he doesn’t, you have to come back here and return it. Asap. As in, tomorrow.” He was pretty sure he could get Clockwork to give him a day, even if he came to pick Danny up right now.

“Those are your first two conditions, then?”

Danny nodded. “Yeah. Third one is, you have to stop taking powers from people who don’t give you permission. The end of that road isn’t pretty.” At least, he was pretty sure it wasn’t. All those little maybe-ghosts, slammed together… Even if it didn’t have any immediate effect on this guy’s personality, the resulting ghost could wind up possessing him. If the ghost vaguely wanted to go with him, that might change things. Maybe. At least, it’d slow things down.

If this worked the way he thought it did.

The man scowled. “And you know this, how?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Look, you’rethe one who said I was like you, not me. Too much of these powers can mess you up.”

“If the number is the problem, it shouldn’t matter how I take them.”

“Do you ever get bad dreams?”

The man stilled completely. “What do you know about that?”

Danny shrugged. “Enough,” he said. “Do you want to be overwhelmed by your powers? Do you want to explode? It could happen.” Actually, Danny had no idea if it could happen or not. But it sounded good. “More importantly, do you want to help your brother or not?”

“Of course I do!”

“Great!” said Danny, clapping his hands together. “Let’s finish this up somewhere privately, okay?” He grabbed the man’s shoulder and phased them through the floor into the basement, which he lit with a ball of ectoplasm. “Okay,” he said. “Fourth thing.”

The man was staring at the ectoplasm with undisguised curiosity. “What is it? Money? A new identity? Passage out of the country?”

“Uh, no,” said Danny. What would he do with any of that, after all? “I need to know the full story behind you and your brother.”

“What? Why? Don’t you know enough?”

“So that I can be sure that I can help, first off. Also, the way I’d be doing it involved me giving you something rather personal, so…” He trailed off with a gesture that indicated he expected the man to talk.

He sighed. “My name is Shigaraki Hisashi. My brother’s name is Kazuki, and he’s been sick since we were children…”

Danny let him give a summary of his life up until this point. He had the vague feeling that he wasn’t being told everything of importance, but, then, not everything about a person’s life could be condensed into an hour or so of storytelling.

Apparently Hisashi had basically raised Kazuki, and once Hisashi’s meta power had come in as a young adult, they’d been completely abandoned by their parents. Hisashi had put together a group of freedom fighters (Danny skeptically recalled the guns, but also forced himself to remember the hints that there might be something like concentration camps for power users) to defend himself, his brother, and others with power. But Kazuki’s illness made him incredibly vulnerable, and as he was Hisashi’s one major weakness…

The feeling that he was living through an ‘X-Men Japan’ comic intensified. He felt so sorry for this guy. Danny knew what this kind of life was like.

“Alright,” he said, softly, finally, “I can help. And, this probably doesn’t mean anything coming from me, but that better world you were talking about? Where people with powers and people without can coexist? I think you’ll be able to make it happen. Just don’t let anyone stop you.”

“I don’t intend to.”

Danny nodded. “I can give you something to help your brother. A power,” he clarified. “But I need you to know, it could change him.”

“Change him?”

“His personality.”

“You were saying something about that before. Forgive me if I don’t agree with you. These powers are tools.”

“Okay, sure, but even just having more options can influence how a person behaves. Just warn him before you give it to him, okay?”

“Of course. I’m a man of my word, after all.”

“Right,” said Danny. “Give me your hand.”

“A handshake?” asked Hisashi.

“Not exactly.”

Danny let a minuscule, almost microscopic, piece of his core break free from the whole. It hurt like a knife to the chest, and some of his physical and mental abilities would be impaired for a while, but he had done it before, and it would heal before long. A fragment this size would give a power on par with those he’d seen so far in this world. It would also grow, of course, but it was unlikely for any human to live long enough for that to become a problem.

He let it pass into Hisashi, and the man shivered.

“That should strengthen his body without being too much of a burden on him,” said Danny.

“What kind of power is it?” asked Hisashi, reclaiming his hand and flexing his fingers.

“Uh,” said Danny, casting about for something vague that would fit. “A gradual stockpile of power. That enhances the user’s body.” That should be close enough. “Remember, ask first.”

“I will, I will,” assured Hisashi one more time. “And you can be sure I’ll be returning regardless, to thank you.”

“Uh huh.”

It took a while for Hisashi and his men to clear out. Longer still for Danny to find a new place to sleep. But he did.

He woke to a time medallion around his neck and Clockwork’s exasperated expression. “Daniel,” he said, “what did you do?”

Toshinori and Izuku stared at Danny with open mouths.

“You’re the original stockpile user?” yelled Izuku, pointing.

Danny smiled sheepishly. “Surprise?”

#danny phantom #bnha #dp/bnha #dp/bnha crossover #pep talks

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thorns-and-rosewings · 3 years ago

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Additional Owl House/ Gargoyles AU Info: OCs

Here we are with some more information regarding the AU, only this will time it will be focusing on the 3 OCs whose pics I posted a little while ago since I didn't think anyone wanted the bios jammed onto their pics.

Hope y'all think these are interesting. :)

-----Rhiannon Frostflame

Nicknames and Aliases: Rhyan or Rhya (Default nicknames) The Wyvern Witch, Ice Queen, The Best Healer on the Isles, Cruel and Fearless, Frozen Flame

Age: Roughly the same as Eda

Palisman: A Wyvern named Wisteria

Magic Specialty: Healing Magic, but is a master of Ice Magic and has created a unique spell of burning blue fire that inflicts awful frostbite and severe necrosis on anyone it comes into contact with...

Friends/Associates: Eda Clawthorne (Best friend and drinking buddy) Raine Whispers (A close friend who in spite of falling out of contact with, Rhiannon still holds them in high regards) Shaelyn Silverstone (Apprentice and Ward) Warden Wrath (Occasional Employer) Fiadh Stonespire (Grandmother figure/deceased)

Background: Rhiannon was born into one of the larger clans of the last name 'Stonespire' that still chose to follow the Gargoyle Way of communally raising their children and protecting their estate and other landholdings. They were also extremely prideful of their skilled members they contributed to the Construction Coven. From a young age, Rhiannon was considered strange due to her shunning of the clans expectations and rather developed an interest in becoming a member of the Healing Coven. Although in her youth she was particularly bad at anything involving healing, having turned several small animals inside out in her attempts to mend their injuries. Her lack of skill and stubborn pursuit of her dreams led her to be alienated from nearly all of the clan who began to treat her as an annoyance if not an embarrassment. The only individuals who showed her any affection were an older female Gargoyle named Fiadh, who Rhiannon viewed as her grandmother and Saoirse, the only rookery sister who cared about her and supported her goals.

Her fierce dedication to studying and mastering healing magics eventually paid off and she not only excelled, but grew to master every healing spell and even learned a myriad of techniques all aimed at helping others. Of course on the flip side of this, through her studies of how to heal she also learned how to inflict immense pain on others. Knowing to attack certain points where an opponent is weak in order to defeat them in a brawl, as it seemed to Rhiannon that most witches and demons had forgotten how to fight without using magic and thus a physical fight is something she can use to her advantage... And she got into fights A LOT.

When she finished her education and applied to the Healing Coven she found that she was denied membership due to her clan contacting the head of the Coven and warning him against letting her join due to her poor skills as a healer... As they had not paid attention to her enough to know of her improvement and eventual mastery of the art.

Denied her dream, humiliated by her so called clan and filled with an anger that could not be put into words, Rhiannon lost her temper and broke the jaw of the Coven Head and fled. Stating she was now going to live her life as a Wild Witch and never give a damn about anyone else ever again. She was promptly disowned by her clan, which was fine with her. She gave herself the last name of Frostflame after the spell she had created and has become synonymous with her very existence.

Personality: Rhiannon is a bit of a contradiction. At first she comes off as cold, calculating and selfish. She is extremely sarcastic and tends to believe that someone 'Can get away with anything, as long as they are useful to someone else.' Which is how she, as a Wild Witch, doesn't have a bounty on her head nor any warrents for her arrest. As she is a freelance healer whom people come to see when they either can't afford to go to the Healing Coven, or do not want there to be a record of the visit... But also members of both the Emperor's Coven and town guards bet on her in the underground fights and thus overlook that she is not in any coven... She is also not above blackmail and is currently holding a massive gambling debt over the head of Coven Head Darius. As further insurance to keep from being arrested or have the Covens forcing her to join.

However... If someone truly gets to know her, Rhiannon is a very devoted, kind hearted person who has been so burnt by the world she no longer desires to be a part of it. She has sympathy for those less fortunate than her and does genuinely wish to help the people who seek her out in need of help. She has an special soft spot in her heart for kids. Especially since in the depths of her ice cold heart she truly longs for a family. This is somewhat evident in how she took in Shaelyn and has done her best to watch out for the younger gargoyle. However her own bias's can be detrimental to the relationships she has... As she has repeatedly told Shaelyn to forget about finding out what happened to her family and missing memories. Arguing that if she forgot them there's probably a good reason for it. Which has led to a rift between her and her apprentice.

-----Shaelyn Silverstone

Nicknames and Aliases: Shae, (Default Nickname) Lyn-Lyn (From Luz)

Age: Roughly 15

Palisman: None at the moment

Magic Specialty: Is attending both the Plant track and the Oracle track in Hexside. As she has unusual visions... both while she is awake and in her sleep. These visions often warn of dark events yet to happen or strange unknown things from a past she cannot remember. While not being taught healing at Hexside, Shaelyn is receiving training in healing magics straight from her guardian Rhiannon. Due to the talent of her mentor, she doesn't believe she could learn more from the school in that subject. As for the plant track... She is in that to both hang out with her friend Willow but also to help with Rhiannons garden which tends to grow out of control more often than not. As well as helping maintain the health of the tree Rhiannon's house is currently sitting in...

Friends/Associates: Willow Park, Gus Porter and Luz Noceda (Best Friends) Rhiannon (Guardian)

Background: Little is known about Shaelyns past beyond her name. Try as she might the young Gargoyle cannot remember much of her life prior to her being found in the wrecked hull of a ship that was brought ashore by a bad storm. While she has 'Shadows of Memories' she cannot remember where exactly she was from or even the faces of her parents. Rhiannon found the girl when she was looking through the wreck and happened upon her buried underneath several heavy cargo boxes with a broken wing and a very bloody head wound. Rhiannon took her back to her home, deep in the woods and healed her. Upon realizing that the girl had no family and no memories and that she would be left in probably one of the orphanages on the Isles, Rhiannon took her in as her apprentice and Shae has been living with her for the last five years.

Although Shaelyn is in awe of her mentor and greatly admires and respects her, she often feels like a burden. Their relationship is not like that of a mother and daughter, but is probably closer to that of sisters. Or of an older sister attempting to be a mother to a younger sibling in the absence of any parents... Shae also has gone through several different means to try and find out what happened to her family... but her search has led to nothing but dead ends. It doesn't help that Rhiannon often tells her to let the subject of her family drop as she would not have forgotten them if they were close... And how she might not like what she finds if she ever does find anything.

Nonetheless, Rhiannon has done her best to take care of Shae and has enrolled her at Hexside, so she can learn other magics that Rhiannon cannot teach. It was here that Shaelyn came across the sight of Amity and Boscha bullying Willow... And using the other skills Rhyan has taught her, Shae started throwing punches and beat up both of the bullies and warned them to leave Willow alone lest they receive another beating... This was how she initially met Willow and later on Gus and the three formed a very close friendship. Some time later Luz would be introduced and Shae grows to be just as protective of her as she is of her other two friends.

Personality: Shaelyn is quite friendly and outgoing with her friends and is the first one to come to the defense of a kid that is getting bullied. Due to her training with Rhiannon she is actually pretty good at fighting physically... Unfortunately in earlier times this put Shae into direct conflict with Amity as she was often quite mean to Willow... Unaware of Amity's true nature, let alone the bullying she received from her family. Like her mentor, Shae can hold a grudge and has a long memory of people who wrong her and her friends... Only unlike Rhiannon she is more willing to give someone a second chance or allow them to make amends... This lets her and Amity to eventually become friends... Although she and Boscha will never get along and Shae will continue to administer black eyes whenever the other girl starts looking for a fight. But when it comes to complete strangers, Shaelyn can be very wary... As was evident when she and the others were looking at booths set up by the Covens for recruitment and she was approached by Hunter as the Golden Guard. Now Hunter, with his very lackluster social skills was attempting to just talk nicely and give Shae a few compliments... Unfortunately for him he came off as aloof and mocking her. This resulted in two punches to his helm and three into his ribs. The blows to the mask dented it so badly it became stuck and the blows to his ribs made it difficult to breathe... Resulting in him passing out and needing to be carried away by Steve.

Undoubtedly when she learns more about Hunter, she will be remorseful for kicking his ass.

-----Saoirse Fireglass

Nicknames: Saer (General Nickname) The Glass Maker, The Crystal Witch, Firebender and Wannabe-Matchmaker (From Rhiannon)

Age: Same as Rhiannon

Palisman: A unique serpent with four eyes and a golden moth shaped hood named Amaranth

Magic Specialty: Construction magic with the specialty of glassmaking and crystal working. She is also capable of using fire spells in a fight.

Friends/Associates: Rhiannon (Rookery sister and best friend) Eda Clawthorne (Friend) Lilith Clawthorne (Friend) Shaelyn (Niece-figure)

Background: Saoirse was born into the same clan and was even from the same clutch as Rhiannon, born with the family name of Stonespire. However unlike her Rookery sister, Saoirse was considered to be one of the most magically gifted gargoyles that had ever been born into the clan. She displayed immense talent in the construction track and was even able to master a very difficult branch of the track that dealt with glassmaking and crystal working. In spite of the heaps of praise and accolades she received amidst her family, she developed a close friendship with Rhyan and was always deeply off-put when she witnessed how she was ostracized by other members of their clan. Still upon completing her schooling she was quickly brought into the Construction Coven and was even taken under the wing of the Coven Head for a time.

But when Rhiannon was cast out from their clan, Saoirse was livid. One of the few times anyone could truly remember her getting angry. She was pretty much told by the clan leader that Rhiannon was a disgrace and that Saer was always special and brought a great deal of respect and admiration to their entire clan with her talent... so she needed to stop defending that lost soul and continue to move forward and possibly become the next Coven Head...

Saoirse formally cut ties with the clan right then and there.

She gave herself a new name and while still formally a member of the Construction Coven, she chose to renounce any Coven status she had an instead opened her own business. She did so with the blessing of the Coven Head, who remains her good friend to this day.

When it comes to her wayward Rookery sister, Saer deeply worries about Rhyan and would love to see her find a place in the world rather than trying to live outside it. Although she knows that the stubborn Wild Witch is unlikely to ever change her ways without reason...

Personality: Unlike Rhiannon, Saer is a bubbly, friendly and outgoing individual who always looks for the good in people... In fact she is probably one of the few people who believes there just might be some good inside the Emperor's heart. (When she voiced this Rhiannon laughed so hard she swallowed the cigarette she was smoking.) Due to this kind nature she has, Rhyan frequently worries about her being taken advantage of... Fortunately Saoirse also is quick witted and can pretty quickly tell if someone is trying to pull a fast one on her. She also has a weird gift for matchmaking, as she can just tell when two people are right for each other. It's something that Rhiannon frequently teases her about.

...Until she finds one stranger who seems to be just perfect for the Wild Witch...

#The Owl House #Owl House #Owl House OC #OCs #my ocs #TOH #Owl House AU #Gargoyles AU #Gargoyles #disney gargoyles #disney's gargoyles #Gargoyles OC #Wild Witch OC #Stoneheart AU #TOH OC

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