#quest: a selfish request

[akutasoda]

HELLOO

can I request a S/o who always puts others before herself and always gets hurt and injured after :3

you're selfless, im selfish

synopsis - you're rather selfless and they hate seeing you get hurt because of this

includes - blade, luocha, aventurine, boothill

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, angstyy, slight blood mentions, wc - 968

a/n: Hellooo! you didn't specify and i am currently on a massive star rail fixation so i hope you don't mind! if you do please let me know and i'll write another!

taglist - @teddirika, @frankiesteinn, @little-miss-chaoss

blade ★↷

↪blade was immortal. he had little care for how many pieces he could be broken down into during a fight as at the end of the day he knew he would still walk away as a blade. weapon's were built to be durable, what kind of 'blade' would he be if he let up at the first sign of danger?

↪he was also used to thinking about nobody but himself, the stellaron hunters became the first exception but he knew they'd be able to take care fo themselves. so it made him suspicious when you'd willingly put him before yourself as what could you possibly gain by doing so?

↪it didn't occur to him just how angry he would get when he watched you get injured for the sake of his safety. not at you despite how much it semed that way. a weapon's job was to protect in a violent manner and his enemies quickly learnt that, especially when his shield would get hurt.

↪he would scold you for throwing yourself into dangerous situations but moved with a gentle contrast as he dressed your wounds. he'd remind you time and time again that he didn't need you to think about his safety, let alone others, and you should worry about yours.

↪but he knew he wouldn't be able to stop you completely and so he would swear that he himself would protect you at all costs despite your insistence of putting him before you.

luocha ★↷

↪despite the coffin that shadowed the merchant, luocha was a healer. someone who followed yaoshi and valued that selfless, healing behaviour and that meant assisting those among the cosmo's in medical affairs for a fair exchange - he was also a wandering merchant afterall

↪he found it rather endearing at first, how you always put those you cared about above yourself. it was rather admirable but he thought less of this trait when it applied to battles. he would prefer you to be selfish and uncaring if it meant you didn't get unnecessarily harmed.

↪especially when it came to you throwing yourself straight into danger for his sake. luocha feared that one day you'd throw yourself into danger for the sake of someone else and he would lose you - he didn't want to carry around two coffins now.

↪he would start subconsciously keeping track of you during dangerous situations, he needed to make sure you didn't do anything too risky. although he didn't mind catering to your injuries, he'd prefer not to stare at his lover's bloody cuts and bruises or whatever injury you accumulated for too long.

↪the merchant may admire that selfless behaviour but allow him to be selfish for once when he places a kiss to your knuckles after dressing your wounds and asking you to stay by his side, to not leave him if he can't get to you in time.

aventurine ★↷

↪aventurine strived to follow the path of preservation, it was a goal of his. achieving this goal was solely for the purpose of protecting his people and those who had helped his journey not hindered it. so when he learnt his original quest was impossible, he needed to strive for something else.

↪he wanted to protect many things and his relationship with you was one of them. at first, he relished in that kindness you showed when you would openly admit or demonstrate how you would always place him above yourself - your selflessness was rather admirable.

↪but he didn't like as much when it meant you'd get hirt in the process. he would not be able to bear losing yet another person he cared about, especially when he had the power to prevent it - especially if you died for him.

↪most of the time, he would be able to prevent you from getting to hurt but crimson was an ugly colour on his lover and he felt a small sense of guilt when he saw it after a fight. you would notice how he'd always be shielding you if you ever threw yourself in danger.

boothill ★↷

↪only two people knew what happened to boothill, himself and the doctor - although some times he didn't think he knew himself. however one thing was clear, he had suffered an amount of pain that pushed his human body to it's limits and bended it to a point of no return. now, he didn't live for himself.

↪recklessness was what probably had landed him in this situation, however when one has a cyborg body how could he not be reckless? he found it rather charming how you always put those close to you above yourself, a noble quality but his perspective changed when he realised just what that meant.

↪he had seen first hand just how little you cared for your safety if it meant protecting someone you cared about. a bittersweet sentiment. it pained his synthetic heart when you would come from a fight all injured and bloody as if it was him in your shoes, he'd be fine. but you had willingly thrown yourself in the way for his safety.

↪he had a metal body, you had a human one - if anything he should be throwing himself in the way as he could be rebuilt. boothill would try so hard to get this message across to you as the last thing he wanted was for you to be pushed to those same limits of pain just for someone who had already been there.

↪he would'nt live for himself but he'd live for you if it meant keeping you safe.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 164 }

of gifts and curses.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ i see your face with every punch i take | and every bone i break, it's all for you | and my worst pains are words i cannot say | still i will always fight on for you… }

the coppery taste of blood had come to be something jinwoo was most accustomed to.

back when he was still a level-e hunter, nearly killing himself with each and every raid that he went on, the pain and agony of the gates he was subjected to nearly made him give up-

but he held on.

not just because his sister needed him-

not just because his mother was subjected to a permanent slumber-

but because he wanted to get stronger for you, too.

you were someone that became a constant comfort for him, spending your days tending to his wounds while helping him care for jinah during the times he was away risking his life during these raids. without fail, whenever jinwoo would go on these raids (and escaping them after barely surviving)-

you would somehow always find a way to greet him from the gate’s exit.

seeing your kind smile and the way you held out your arms for him, allowing him to slump against you in a warm embrace, his scrawny arms bringing your comforting form ever so closer to him as he allowed the tears to fall.

you would remain by his side, giving him cans of his favorite brand of coffee while replenishing his energy with all of his favorite snacks. and when his injuries became too dire, you would stay up with him throughout the late hours of the night, tending to his wounds to the best of your abilities.

your stable presence and belief in him was enough to make him confess his love for you, keeping you by his side in an almost selfish manner, since he knew that with the way he was now, there wasn’t a damn thing he could offer you-

but by some stroke of luck, you never seemed to care about the things he could not offer you, still loving him unconditionally despite it all.

jinwoo believed that he had truly found a soulmate in you, and surprisingly, he found himself not minding his weak self…

you had let him slowly begin to love himself thanks to the unconditional love you held for him.

he always believed that he could never change no matter how hard he tried-

yet such self deprecating thoughts all but disappeared into thin air when he was met with the double dungeons, one that made him realize what true fear was the moment he died-

and was given a second chance at life-

reborn into something far more powerful than what he could ever imagine.

it was through his newfound identity as the system’s sole player that he was able to break out of the chains that labeled him as the weakest in the world. when he was brought to the hospital and made the mistake of ignoring the system’s first request, the punishment for not completing the task in the allotted time-

it had sent him to another world surrounded by desert sand as he was forced to survive within its borders while escaping from the beast that dwelled inside the heart of the desert.

needless to say, jinwoo didn’t ignore a single quest like that ever again.

on top of how he was literally leveling up with each quest he completed, you still remained by his side, often taking turns with jinah when it came to visiting him at the hospital.

and despite how he never told you or jinah about the truth of his resurrection, it was clear that you could tell the subtle changes his body was going through. when you visited him at the hospital one late afternoon, bringing with you the lunch you had cooked for him, you would remain strictly by his side.

as if you were glued to him, you would cling to his left arm while he ate his ramyun, looking down at you with an amused expression before asking you, “what’s wrong?”

a cute little pout would paint your gorgeous features as you merely tightened your hold on him in response. “the nurses were gossiping about you… calling you hot… and i didn’t like them checking out what’s already been mine from the start.”

feeling amused (yet filled to the brim with love and affection for you) he leans down to press a kiss against your hair, all while silently promising to not only get stronger for his family-

but for you as well.

and he could not thank the system for making him into the man that he was today.

he had grown taller.

his face had lost its prior roundness, becoming more defined while his voice seemed to deepen with a newfound confidence, losing the prior meekness it once had.

the system had given him the gift of becoming a powerful mage; a necromancer that could turn each enemy he had slain into his own, obedient soldiers.

with every battle he’s faced-

and with every bone that he breaks, filling his mouth with the taste of blood as a grueling pain courses through him-

still he fought on, just for you.

you, who had never once left his side despite the growing darkness that was beginning to seep into his veins.

you, who remained blissfully unaware at how he had killed numerous men during the times he spent within each dungeon, secretly turning those who wished to harm him into his own personal shadow soldier-

(a feat that would always be kept as a secret from you.)

and it was during his walk home back to you that he could feel the exhaustion beginning to kick in. despite how his injuries were healed, his stamina had remained the same, remaining severely low as he struggled to remain upright.

jinwoo needed to see you again.

he needed to have you in his arms before pressing your body closer to his, allowing him bask in your warmth- in your light.

for what seemed like an eternity, jinwoo finally reaches your shared apartment, unlocking it while letting out a weak, “i’m home.”

his voice was a bit broken and cracked, but he immediately silenced himself upon seeing the television screen turned on, painting your sleeping figure settled on the couch in colorful hues as the shadow soldier he had assigned to you peered up at him with glowing, purple eyes.

jinwoo winks at his soldier, raising up a finger in a gesture that was meant to convey be quiet. he tiptoes closer to where you lay against the couch, taking the remote off the coffee table before shutting off the t.v. screen.

with his heightened senses, he was able to still see your form despite the complete and utter darkness, leaning down to hold you within his embrace as he carried you (bridal style) back into your shared room.

as he worked on laying you back down in bed, you stirred in your sleep while softly whispering his name, making jinwoo smile down at you in response.

“ssssh, it’s okay. i’m here now… and i’m not going anywhere.” he reassures you before getting into bed with you, basking in the way you seemed to know where he was while you gravitated towards him. your cheek was already resting against his chest, eyes never once opening when you cuddled yourself even closer to him, greedily basking in his warmth as your chest was pressed together in response, not even leaving a millimeter of space between your two forms.

jinwoo continues to stare blankly at the ceiling, mulling over his thoughts while massaging your scalp and running his fingers through your hair. in the dead of night, where the only movements were seen with the soldiers he had placed surrounding the parameters of the bedroom, he closes his eyes while murmuring your name.

“i love you… everything that i do- it’s all for you.”

you mutter something in your sleep, making jinwoo smile when he turns around to fully embrace you, pressing you tightly against his chest as he brought his lips to your forehead. after whispering of his love and devotion to you one last time, he closes his eyes and joins you in a peaceful slumber…

{ this gift is my curse for now… }

a.n. - yellowcard’s { gifts and curses } played on my playlist and i was hit with such feels that i had to write something for jinwoo 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[lsd-astronaut]

Could you please write something about Aragorn (and Faramir if you're up to it) courting an apothecary? Even better if the apothecary is a healer but is actually chronically ill themself and suffers from a long-term illness, maybe one that keeps them stuck in Rivendell/Gondor for awhile. I'm a sucker for the "You can heal everybody but yourself" archetype. Thank you so much, I hope your day is going well. Take care of yourself and drink some water!

Thank you for the request! My knowledge about apothecaries is limited to Maomao from the The Apothecary Diaries anime (if you haven't watched it, I 100% recommend it, the second season is currently airing), but I'll do my best to write this and do justice to your ask!

How to Woo an Apothecary and Not Die Trying

Pairings: Aragorn x Fem!Apothecary!Reader, Faramir x Fem!Apothecary!Reader (Separate)

✦ Aragorn

Although you have been living in Rivendell with the elves all your life, you haven't had many chances to talk with the only other human in the place. This is, of course, due to your poor health and its issues, which flare up at the worst of times and leave you unable to even get up from your bed when they get really bad. It seems quite more ironic when you reflect on your career choice; healing people while you're left stumbling around and in pain. It feels like a cruel joke bestowed on you by the Valar, but you are, for better or for worse, used to it already.

How surprising it is when you are notified of the arrival of Lord Elrond's daughter with a halfling on the verge of death. Not allowing yourself to dwell in the strangeness of the situation, you get to work, and only allow yourself to relax slightly when you see the first traces of colour return to the hobbit's face. The surprises don't end there, for some days later, Aragorn appears with three other hobbits on his heels. It makes you smile seeing the eagerness of the three, as they immediately flock to you, shooting questions about their friend's — Frodo — wellbeing. You see them rushing to his room before you are interrupted by a hand on your shoulder. Turning around, you find yourself face to face with the ranger.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" You ask. Aragorn however shakes his head.

"I think you've already done more than enough for everyone here. I simply wished to inquire about yourself. I couldn't help but to notice you seemed a bit unbalanced." At your expectant expression, he quickly clears his throat. "Unless I have overstepped, in which case I sincerely apologise."

Quickly shaking your head, you reassure him that couldn't be further from the truth. "I simply did not expect anyone to notice. I am as fine as I can be, do not fret. You, however, I see are in dire need of some rest. I cannot fathom how you could keep on for almost a week without sleep to get here as fast as you did."

Aragorn laughes at your words, and a light blush makes its way to your face. As you go to move away, he sobers up and calls your name.

"I may not have many more chances before I am forced to leave Rivendell again, so I have to ask this of you, even if it makes me a selfish man. Would you allow me the honour of being the one to court you?" He understands he is asking too much of you, and is also aware of your inability to leave the Last Homely House. But if he is to go in this extremely dangerous, possibly deadly, Quest, then he must take his chances. He would do this for you every time and again, for in his eyes you deserve a world not marred by darkness, one where you can actually go outside and enjoy the breeze in your face and not fear for your life. And maybe, in this picture, he gets to stand by your side.

When the smile on your face breaks through, he knows the answer.

✦ Faramir

Opening your little shop in the morning, you could not have expected what the day would have in store for you. The routine was routine for a reason, and you didn't seek anything more apart from it. You also got quite a lot of clients, so it meant less time for yourself but more money for everything else. The pros outweighed the cons, and you couldn't complain about your luck; not everyone could work their dream job all by themselves, and manage to sustain the costs that came with it.

The day passed by without a hitch until the late afternoon, when the bell on top of the door chimed, signalling the arrival of yet another client.

"I'll be with you in just a second!" You shouted from the back of the shop as you organised some new products that had arrived in the morning, but due to the heavy foot traffic you hadn't had much time to do it until now. When you peeked your head through the doorframe, you smiled as you saw Faramir, arguably your best regular customer. "Well, what do we have here? I'm assuming the usual?"

The blonde-haired man chuckled and nodded. "Aye, the sparring session got a bit too heated today."

"Tell Boromir to go a bit easier on you. He's going to make me lose a very valuable client, and then he will have to face me." You grinned.

"He is more than aware, I assure you. But I have gotten some hits in myself. As a warning, of course." It amazed you how relaxed Faramir was in comparison to his demeanor in official settings. You had had occasional requests to the court in order to bring medicine or herbs of some sort. Those times, it was Boromir who took the lead and talked your ear off while Faramir preferred to stand around and keep mostly quiet. Yet, when he was here, just the two of you, he loosened up, and his teasing ways came forth. One could only hope that this meant you were special in his eyes. You were not going to say anything, though, at least not today.

The universe seemed to have different plans for you, though. Faramir looked momentarily troubled, making you stop your hand with the ointment he had requested and glance at him worriedly. "Is something the matter, Faramir?" At your words, he appeared to start a bit, but he soon recovered and looked directly into your eyes.

"How long have I been coming here?

"Wha–." Your words were cut by his raised hand. "Just answer my question, please."

"Umm, I guess that it has been six months, give or take? I'm not sure exactly."

"That long already? I'm more of a fool than I thought..."

"What's the matter, Faramir?"

He sheepishly scratched his neck as he looked down. "Boromir was hinting at it but I didn't want to believe it." His eyes raised again to look at you. "Have you noticed that I've been trying to court you for these last months?"

What had he just said? You stood there, the stiffness of your limbs not having anything to do with your illness for once. Had you heard right? No way, why would he say that? To you? Who had to use a cane to get to places? Wait, why would that matter at all? This is Faramir we're talking about! WAIT! Were the flowers two months ago during Lovers Day more than a teasing friends gift? Focus! He is still expecting an answer!

You opened your mouth and closed it again. Words had never failed you, but now seemed unwilling to leave your throat. After some failed attempts, finally you were able to muster "Me?" which was frankly pathetic. Faramir, bless his heart, looked more worried than dejected.

"Yes, you. Who else?" As if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I... I don't know. Literally anyone else?"

"Why would I want anyone else when you're here?" At this, you blushed bright red and covered your face with your hands as you squeaked in surprise. "Have I been mistaken in my advances?"

Dropping your hands, you gaped at him. How could he think that? "I also like you a lot! I just didn't know you were courting me..."

Faramir laughed and got closer to you, smiling sweetly. "Oh, Boromir is going to make so much fun of us when he hears this."

DAMN why was Faramir's so fucking long omg I also leaned more on the apothecary part in the second one, and the chronic illness is barely mentioned but I didn't want to make it like a personality trait, just something the reader has to live with, and honestly no idea if I did this right, but I hope you like it and it's a good enough attempt for my first time writing Aragorn and Faramir. I just feel like Faramir would be more confident with people he trusts.

Like and reblog!

[yayll]

hai !! i am wondering if i can request something about foxzai w foxreader.. i dont mind any scenario i just want something about them in love hehe.. especially since they r both foxes:3

hiiiiii baby! i'm SO sorry this took quite a while, i was away for a bit on vacation and have just been trying to catch up on requests. for this specific one i didn't kno if you wanted them to be full on foxes or like fox hybrid ish so i went with the kitsune approach who can be both! i hope you like my interpretation and i'm srry if it's not proper but i had a lot of fun working on it for you and seeing these two in love hehe <3 love u

The winter can be harsh on the wild, this you already know. But the warmth that does remain doesn't come from the security in survival, It comes from knowing that if you make it through the season or should you perish during it you will always be under the watchful gaze of the one you love.

It's a brisk morning and in your snow lined fox den it's business as usual. There's no hibernation, only you and your silly little partner as you spend everyday together. He's a bit off, a bit goofy, but so are you for letting him live with you ever since that day he limped into your den! You nursed him back to health as best you could and he hasn't left you ever since, not that you'd ever want him to. Dazai's also lazy, selfish, and unintentionally hilarious during the most inappropriate times so you need to be careful when trying to understand his more 'dramatic' moments and-

Oh, yeah. food! Sooo hungry. You pad your way towards the soft spot you both share where he sleeps soundly, curled up in his kimono, his nine tails tightly wrapped around him. You think his bandages must keep him extra warm too, what a package deal. Oh how pretty he looks like that... You kneel and nudge him awake with a soft whisper.

"Hi... it's time to eat."

His pointy ears perk up and he pops one eye open as he scans you first thing.

"You brought food already? Woooowww... How gracious of you, cutie~"

You snicker quietly to yourself, and shake your head.

"No, we're going together. You need to start earning your meals."

"Pfft. I'd never make you earn your meals, you know."

You make another sound of sheer entertainment at his cute whining, and nudge him again, this time carding your fingers through his messy brown hair, and caressing those soft ears that twitch with every word you say. He could stay like this forever, he thinks. With your approval, hopefully he will.

"Is that so? I dunno... I'd say every time I head out into town to find your specialty canned crab it's quite a quest for me. Or when I trick those humans into giving me more tofu than usual for our stews I really do wonder if you ever stop to think if that's a harder than usual task for me-"

Your words are cut off by a swift and fluffy tail that clamps over your mouth. You stay quiet, a wide smile playing on your lips as you watch Dazai become animated in a second.

"...Okay, okay! Fine. I'll go... And of course, you'll do the cooking."

"I always do the cooking, Osamu."

"Yes, and thank god for that, because I love doing the eating~"

You quirk an eyebrow as you fold your arms across your chest and hum. He's so cute when he's being high maintenance. Despite you both being kitsune, he had you wondering if you were slowly becoming his human caretaker... Not that you would ever mind, that is.

"Mm, that you do..."

Dazai then stretches himself, his body becoming long as he holds the pose with his back arched, his ears flipping back as his tails fluff up, signaling he's fully awake now. He turns to you, those cunning narrowed eyes now slightly half lidded and tender. His voice is low and hoarse.

"But you know what? I also love other things..."

You tilt your head a bit as he stands to his full height, walking towards you and scanning you head to toe with that never ending gaze that oozes with affection. He knows what's going on in that little head of yours, and you almost feel bashful from the way he grants you every bit of his senses. When he reaches you, he places a hand on the top of your head inbetween your soft ears, petting you with feather light taps. He towers over you, his figure now more imposing except without the threatening aura. There could never be threat when it's just you and Dazai, because behind his goofy and easygoing exterior, there is an undying commitment to you that goes beyond life and death. And thankfully, you both will live for a long, long time despite his pesky jokes about the opposite.

He leans forward and then down enough to whisper against the shell of your ear as if he were telling you a secret.

"I love... Curry... Rice... Crab... and-"

You interrupt by looking up at him, eyes twinkling with anticipation. You weren't desperate for his tender words, for he never withheld them from you. He couldn't hide how enamored he was with you even if he tried! There was just something about hearing him say it that made you feel like it was the first time every single time. He curls one of his tails around yours, gently braiding them together as they form a furry stem, locked in place like two hands intertwined. He grins, holding your chin as you two communicate in your own little language with your eyes.

Dazai thinks about how lucky he is to be yours, through thick and thin and the coldest of winter. From the way your lashes flutter every time you blink to how your nose crinkles in the cutest ways when you laugh, he doesn't know why you entertain his mischief. Maybe he's cursed you... Maybe it's a good curse if it means you'll continue to look at him the way you aways do. Either way, you'll both see the Spring come, together.

He brings his hand down to the tip of your nose, so elegant and beautiful, and taps it while whispering.

"You. I love you. So let's go to town, yes? I'm ready to work for my meal or whatever."

You bite your lip at his call back to your previous words, trying to stop the smile from literally getting any wider as you drop the bossy act and melt for him instead. And here you thought his charm was only reserved to fool humans! You nod and when you speak, it's barely above a whisper.

"I love you too."

He leans in so close that his nose touches yours, teasing your every sense.

"I know that, cutie. Duh."

He speaks with a low purr as if stating the obvious, causing you to roll your eyes at his adorable audacity. Only Dazai could get away with this, and only you could make him feel complete this way, no matter what form he takes.

[maximwtf]

“Whatever soul I may have left, is for you to keep.”

Capitano x M! Reader

Words: 3770

Google Docs Pages: 6ish

Warnings: 5.1 spoilers…actually just in general Natlan archon quest spoilers, angst, yearning, romance but in the sense that we all know it’s never gonna happen but it’s a nice thought, Capitano with actual rot idk maybe some abyssal mixed in there, M Reader but I don’t use a lot of pronouns so can go as GN too.

Opening: 500 years ago had he last met someone like you, and that was the problem. He couldn’t tell you that, nor could he get closer if he was unable to see you as yourself and not a vision from the past. 

AN// Thank you so much for requesting, happy to write for Capitano again AGH. I’m sorry if this feels like it drags on, I can’t help myself. No matter how simple notes I make, I end up yapping like crazy. Somebody sedate me pleaseeee

“Whatever soul I may have left, is for you to keep.”

You’d told him, of course you had. Told him that facing Mavuika likely wasn’t the way to get his hands on the gnosis any faster, but he’d insisted. Saying he had it all planned out, no matter what the outcome may have been. As if that had made you worry any less. He was a strong man, that you didn’t doubt for a second, but to say Mavuika was any less formidable would have been a lie. But as he had firmly stated, he was prepared for any outcome. 

You weren’t aware anymore if the warmth coursing through your body was due to Natlan’s natural heat or simply the anticipation while waiting for his return. And which only increased after a grand explosion of light emerged from the stadium with a loud wave of noise. Leaving you wide eyed at the closest base with a few other guards. 

The air felt still after the explosion disappeared, still as warm as ever. But that didn’t seem to bother you anymore, left stunned as you waited for any sign of life from the stadium. Any flicker of that familiar icey blue, yet it only seemed that a gloomy smoke kept rising from the middle. No other major movement. 

Only the footsteps of another guard got your attention back to the present moment. The man firmly informing the rest that the Captain had been hit by one of Mavuika’s attacks and was being transported back to a base further back, to give the troops more time to assess the situation. That the new guy that’d been following Capitano around had seemingly saved him and the few other guards that’d come along. 

You wanted to question him more, to ask if anyone had seen how severe the injuries were. If you’d have to prepare yourself to see the worst. Knowing it would be some form of a burn you’d be dealing with once meeting up with the rest of the group. But there was no time for that. The more this group was stalled, the longer the rest would have to wait for your assessment. There was no time to be selfish. 

Hearing some of the guards start to usher you to hurry up, assisting you with picking up the equipment from that base. Doing their best to wait up, but ultimately having to hurry up and follow the command given. They had to move up to not be caught after such commotion. 

You weren’t necessarily a trained medic nor any other form of a healer. The Fatui had their own section trained for such matters, but this group didn’t have one. Most of the men had the basic crumbs of medical training, if even that, under their belt. So by popular vote, they’d nominated you as their medic. Having the most experience with any sort of medical care. Likely now also expected to be the one able to check the wound inflicted and to be able to determine how the group would continue on from here. 

Knowing that after attracting attention like that to the Fatui’s presence and Capitano himself showing up for a fight, it was only in due time someone would come looking for him and the rest of the platoon. There wasn’t too much time to waste, only hope that the wound wasn’t so serious it would require months to heal. And even then, that it’d be minor enough to not cause him harm while working. 

You barely had the time to set the equipment up when the word of his arrival came to your ears as well. Turning to face him as the man himself along a couple of guards entered. None of the bases were truly anything spectacular. You didn’t have to be a medic to determine the lack of resources in a place like this. That being a worry each time someone got injured. This one consisting of a smaller cave under a cliff where if the group stayed near, it had a chance of being completely unseen. The cave itself providing you a cooling shade to work in, feeling rather bad for the rest of the troops who spent their time outside it. Underneath the scorching sun. 

The area had no chairs to speak of, no proper tables. Crates being used as both, of which you pushed out one for Capitano to sit on. But being too quick to ask questions of his condition for him to be able to sit down before answering. “How do you feel? Is the burn area only on the chest?” Noticing this a little too late, cringing as the two guards still there had likely witnessed the urgency in your speech. Hoping they only took it as a hurry to check up on the Captain, knowing he was a high ranking fatuus. And if anything happened to him due to your tardiness, that fate would be for you to explain to the next higher up. Truthfully speaking, only hurrying like this due to your genuine care for him. 

It wasn’t this mission alone you’d been within his chosen troops. And a part of you hoped, knew, that it wasn’t merely because of your medicinal capabilities. A decent fighter among many other, so that shouldn’t have mattered to him. Yet you’d noticed yourself delivering messages to him little by little more often, him requesting your presence in situations you thought not suited for someone like you. Perhaps for an assistant of sorts, but for a mere soldier by then, it was by no means a usual position to be in. To be seemingly favoured by such a high ranking member. 

And when he’d asked you if you had any interest in becoming his aide, it hadn’t exactly come as a surprise. In his eyes, the things you’d already done for him counted as training. Which he wasn’t wrong about, he had practically trained you for the exact job even if he hadn’t meant it. So who were you to refuse? If he saw the potential in you, it must have been the right choice. Someone of his status likely knew better than you either way, able to spot specific talents amongst soldiers. 

“Believe me, this will heal over time. My desire to protect this nation still stands. If anything, Mavuika’s show of strength was important for those to witness it, to uphold hope.” He insisted, swearing that Mavuika hadn’t been at her full capability. And knowing Capitano, he most certainly would have never taken advantage of a situation such like that. All he would do is use the information he’d gathered to push the mission onward. But never start playing unfair, that much was for certain. Yet you found yourself wondering if that would have made the fight even. Knowing the condition of the Captain. 

You were all too aware of the curse and its effects, as much as he’d initially insisted on keeping it a secret. At first thinking it must have been a form of insecurity, but truthfully you weren’t so sure about that anymore. Knowing he’d opened up a lot more about it later on. So hearing Capitano declare his morals once more felt off this time. It almost worried you, if he’d only be willing to go all out if Mavuika was fully empowered. That would surely leave him as the weakened opponent. Having to shake that though away as soon as it appeared, not wanting to imagine such a fight. The outcome of the last one had been tragic enough, you thought. 

Yet, as much as you wanted to believe the man was unfazed by what had happened. You couldn’t help but see those subtle flashes that resembled something akin to astonishment in his speech and movements. Each aspect something you had to diligently pick up on to notice, a habit mastered over time working alongside him.

You ignored his former response, seeing it as something not worth following up on. The burn area still had to be checked, if only for your sake. Capitano letting you rather willingly, aware of how much peace he’d have left if he were to refuse the check up now. 

Before removing the outer pieces of clothing you ushered the two guards out of the cave, waving your hands at them in a quick motion a few times. To which they responded, signing out before making their way back under the sun. Eagerly waiting for the next move, leaving you to carefully start tending the burnt area. Eyes ignoring the corrupt, rotten areas with practised ease. Not an aspect you hadn’t seen before, a part of the man you’d become familiar with. It was him, it was something you knew him by. A part of him that’d always been there, ever since your paths had intertwined. 

Capitano listened keenly at the command thrown at the two guards, hearing susurration of the gravel under their boots as they turned and walked out. A part of him amused by their behaviour, willingness to take the command and follow. Something that would have otherwise been frowned upon, an absurd action to take from someone not pulling the reins. And so would have he thought as well, if it hadn’t been him who’d allowed you that power over the guards. 

The prerogative something not often seen from his aides, but something that now had an odd echo from the past each time he witnessed it. The tone of your voice, the formatting of the words and the action that happens almost immediately after. How a trained soldier listens, moves when commanded. There was something so familiar about it all, a familiarity dating back 500 years. 

Capitano’s memory swirled, a feeling that nagged at him every now and then. An altercation with his own mind, as if none of the memories were fond enough to think of. They were, a lot of them were. But when it came to how it all ended, were the good memories worth nothing more but agony? Agony that he couldn’t avoid, there was no hiding from one’s own mind. 

An image of a person long gone, never forgotten. Each detail still there as they’d been over 500 years ago on that day. Time that now felt so far away, remembering how much younger he’d been and how little he’d seen. How much he thought he’d experienced by then. And how little that version of him had truly seen. One person stuck by him through most of it. An aide assigned to him, someone he hadn’t meant to get close to. A person meant to ease his workload, but still someone he’d grown to care for. Grown fond of over the years, gaining high respect from the troops due to that as well. That very same aide having gotten the very same prerogatives as you had. 

And there it was. This person, now nothing more but an image in his head, someone who’d been dear to him, now stood by him again. As if some sort of a reincarnation. Of course, he knew better than to believe that. There was no peace for a Khaenri'ahn, no such thing as reincarnation to get to live a full life once more. You were your own person. 

But he couldn’t help himself. Not when you acted the same, had the same tone of voice…everything he could still remember. The memories he’d held on to, as if some sort of sick parting gift from his homeland. And how could he not hold on. For a very long time he’d believed this aide hadn’t been but merely a comrade in his eyes. But he was a high ranking commander of the forces, what face would he have left if he’d been to mingle with an aide? Thinking of the greater good of his homeland, he’d abandoned any hope of pursuing his thoughts further. 

Had he known what was to come, he wasn’t so sure if he would have truly chosen those actions. The years he’d spent pondering over those peaceful years, the chances he’d had to try and pursue what he assumed to be a possible future. The regrets that he’d now accumulated over the years for the decision made all that time ago. 

When Capitano had escaped with the remnants of his troops, this aide had held on. A trained aide, by no means a seasoned soldier, it felt a miracle to see them still standing by after the escape. A flicker of hope had ignited within him as they’d settled into Natlan. That perhaps this nation which he viewed similar to their home, would have been able to protect what he still held close to his heart, the very remnants of that. But the world wasn’t known for its kindness, or so he had decided then. In that moment when this aide had fallen, slain as one of the last of his men. Having fought side by side with him to the very end. The men he had failed to lead and command, something he’d been trained to specifically do.

As valiant as the death had been, the then soured commander had begun to blame himself. And how could he not? He was a commander without his troops, without anyone to command. He was a soldier without a home to return to. He had failed his homeland, his men and the very thing he’d hoped to keep fighting for if nothing else. But not even the years could truly erase those regrets that kept accumulating. The yearning to get another chance to protect what had been his, if only for his own dignity. All of the memories piling up with the what if’s as he watched his form rot. Diligently constructing a new him, holding on to his morales while being forced to dwell among the living. Cursed to having to watch anything close to dear for him rot away along with himself. 

Then again, as much as he might have hoped the memories of the aide he had, had changed over time, they hadn’t. The way you spoke and behaved reminded him deeply of that person. All of those small details bringing him back to times he liked to think had been simpler, realistically the time likely having sullied the truth. Nostalgia had always been such a dreadful creature. 

But pondering over those similarities would never help anyone, him the least. There would never come a time when he’d be able to tell you of these memories and thoughts. Especially not if he wished to keep any face as an authority figure, the last crumbs he had left of that in your eyes. Nevermind the companionship he’d grown fond of. 

How could he possibly come to you solely for the reason that you reminded him of someone from the far past? Merely because you shared similarities with someone whom he’d highly respected. That would surely only lead to further complications, which he did not wish for. There was no room to be selfish. 

Having to force his mind to pinpoint the differences, be it subtle or not. Truthfully, there would have been a difference in the way both of the aide’s viewed him, who they knew him as. How would have this first aide reacted to seeing his corroded form now? What this curse had done to his body, to the man he once had been known as? A part of him was glad the men he’d unknowingly led to their slow end hadn’t seen their commander in the state he was in. The men he’d failed to bring home. Having fallen by his side, in duty. 

But you had. As much as he had insisted on keeping this certain problem to himself. Something he found hard to find shame in, yet not seeing it as an aspect to be shown around. If he was to ever regain those missing pieces of his former self, he didn’t wish to be pitied. But much to his dismay, he’d grown closer to you. Allowed himself to be perceived by your eyes, knowing there wasn’t much to lose. The look in your eyes then told him as much. 

So at the end, you were different. Your own person, fully unaware of his past companions, just like it should have been left. You’d made your judgement on him long before, something this initial aide hadn’t had the chance to ever do. He would never know how the events back then could have turned out. But if this was the way the fate of this world had played out, who was he to resist now. 

He hadn’t had the chance to even thought of such things back then. No time to simply even wonder how and what he could have said to that aide. So if he’d now been gifted the chance to try again, he was prepared to not redo the same mistakes. If anything, the events he’d endured had taught him how ephemeral something like this could be. As much had been clear to him for a long time, the past had to be left to rest in its rightful place. These thoughts having been one of many he’d go through and ultimately put to rest. It was easy to dwell in the past, but with the time he’d been forcibly given, he was going to spend fighting for what he hadn’t been able to in the past. Whatever soul he may have had left, was yours to keep. 

You inspected the damage, using what little time there was to the best of your ability. For a man having taken such a serious blow, he was in rather good shape. Nevertheless, on a mission such as this, even small injuries had to be taken into consideration with the next step. Having patched the area up, hands working with practised ease by now. Gentle in their movements as the last bit of the gauze was tied down. There wasn’t time to start being fancy, not after such a huge event. The whole camp had to be moved to a safer location. 

“I recall telling you that this would be a bad idea, and should have been kept as a backup plan, if anything,” the complaint slipping from you. No malice in the words, what truly mattered was that everyone was safe. Furthermore, having heard him preach of why he hadn’t felt the need to finish the battle. The upkeep of his morals never ceasing to amaze you. Which in all honestly puzzled you, knowing that the man himself was weakened as well. 

But there was no use in going over small details, especially not now. Nor was there time to truly worry about him. You were aware of his ability to somewhat heal, so there was a possibility he could have treated this injury by himself. So seeing him sat in your care was a mind calming sight. He was going to be okay. 

In truth, you knew multiple of these small details about him. Minor mannerisms he often performed, having noticed them by simply following him around. By that time having grown rather close to him, an obvious reason why his men earlier had listened to the command. Yet, as many details and personal information you’d accumulated over the years, it still felt as if he was somehow far away. Only allowing you closer, but keeping himself at bay. As if you were something to admire and respect, but as if some force was causing him to behave this way. The thought of time possibly fixing this keeping you from pondering about it further. 

Surely for someone forced to live and dwell among the living for so long, forming any sort of close bonds was a thing to deeply consider before giving in. So allowing him to think on his own felt like the natural choice. Fully aware that he wasn’t keeping things from you out of malice or to break the bond you had with him, never. Knowing it probably wasn’t appropriate to ask him about this, as his aide, while fully aware that the man had a long past. Even if you weren’t fully in on with said past. 

Capitano’s eyes followed your movements as you carefully buttoned his shirt back up to cover the scarring. Tugging the rest of his clothing back onto his weary shoulders, careful yet diligent in your movements. “You have my thanks. Keep proving yourself to be useful, as always,” his voice came through the mask, a compliment you’d grown used to. “Oh please, I’m not even a medic.” Was your response this time around as well. Yet a part of Capitano knew you would have requested a check up for him if he hadn’t come for one himself, that was merely how you’d always been. No matter for his own ability to heal himself. 

And perhaps this was how it was meant to be. Everyone from the platoon on this mission working as they had always been, not a step out of the ordinary. That would keep his men safe. Wondering how ironic of a thought that was, considering the past he’d just been reminiscing. The future he held a flicker of hope for. 

Capitano thought to himself before saying his goodbyes, aware of how little time there was to waste for mind games such as these. 

Perhaps today nor tomorrow would come the day when he was able to return to these thoughts. When there was safety and time for him to tell you all this. He needed not the comfort from you for this, merely to have the knowledge and peace of mind of one day being able to come to you with these thoughts. He was fully aware of what he had to offer anymore, what was left of him. That he had come to terms with. 

But somehow this world had blessed him with another chance. As if he hadn’t failed his men, failed to bring them home. That didn’t seem to shake Fate, a devious thing that concept was. His own regrets hadn’t held it back from allowing him this turmoil. A new chance without the worry of having to be on the run. He had nothing but time anymore, neverending time to pursue something taken from him then. No destiny should have been unchangeable, that he believed in. So if he was allowed to tie a loose end from 500 years ago, that would be enough for him. 

There wasn’t a lot of him left, not much he was able to give. But that what he still had, he was willing to surrender to you.

[xxsabitoxx]

Special | Kinktober Side Quest 1

Sukuna x AFAB reader | divider from @benkeibear

Sukuna, who is not particularly thrilled about one family who dares to keep pestering him for wealth.

Sukuna, who is given you as an offering in return for the wealth they so desperately desire

Sukuna, who typically wouldn't think twice about taking your life and moving on with his.

Sukuna, who finds you to be different than the rest

Not much can interest the man, especially during the Heian Era. There is nothing to do but be worshiped and doted on out of fear, and even for him, it can get boring. You, however, didn't put up a fight when your so-called family offered you up for a small fraction of his wealth. Even know, you sat dutifully before him, awaiting your fate.

"Aren't you going to beg me to spare your life?" he asked in a dull tone, one of four arms pressed into the side of his face as he looked you over. You only shook your head, looking up at him with eyes as dull as the tone he just used. "Why bother, if life is this cruel to me for doing nothing at all, it is simply a life I do not want to live."

That wasn't an answer he expected, eyes taking a moment to really focus on what you were wearing. From the looks of it, your family had been trying to make you look seductive. The thought made his lips curl in a scowl, humans were truly selfish creatures. "I suppose I can't argue with that mentality." he sounded resigned as he pulled his eyes from your breasts and up to your downcast face.

"But it sounds to me that you are just giving up. Did you even try to put up a fight?" you shook your head, you hadn't even raised your voice when your parents told you what was to happen. You had just accepted it for what it was. "pathetic." the curse before you spat, his tone making your nerve endings spark with fear. But after a moment, you processed the fact that his anger wasn't directed at you.

"I'll make you a deal." he spoke gruffly, large fist still pressed into his cheek as he observed you. Those five words sent a new wave of fear through you, but your facial expression never gave that away. "I'll let you live..." He watched as your eyes finally raised to meet his, only a hint of shock on your near-expressionless face. "... on one condition."

"May I ask you what the question is, sir?" his pause had left you room to speak, you took the change and accepted it. Sukuna hummed in approval at your words, pleased to hear you already taking formalities. Most of the morons who came to him for wealth didn't even remember to use them when addressing him.

"You'll let me use your body, whenever I desire to."

"Is that all you require from me, sir?" unphased by the request, Sukuna smirked. "For now, that would be all." what an intriguing creature you were, your carefully guarded emotions made his skin itch with the desire to unravel you and eat you alive. "I humbly accept your offer, sir." Sukuna sighed, straightening for the first time since you sat before him.

"Wonderful, we'll start right away then. Strip."

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Male Yandere Adventurer x Female Magical Maiden Reader

Just imagine a man who’s on an adventure or is like a hunter or something, coming across a magical maiden bathing in a body of water, and he just has to make her his

I was inspired by all those beautiful water nymph/maiden oil paintings that I thought this would be a cool concept if reader darling was the magical one for a change. Or what if yandere also secretly had some magic blood in him!?

Thanks!!! 💝

Yandere! Male! Hero! Isekai'ed Adventurer x Fem! Elementalist mage! Reader

💝 ANON! I love this request so much because I love worldbuilding. Making your own lore to magical worlds is just-- ack!

This time, this world will be the same as Yan! Villain's world. Hope you don't mind me putting more elements to the fic.

Also, my ask box is going to be open again! Finally. Lol. :3

Yan! Isekai'ed Adventurer's name: Aeron

A great Adventurer. Someone who defeated the Demon King by his own hands without any help.

From a nobody to the Hero everyone looked up to, Aeron shot up through the ranks of the Empire.

Charismatic, brave, strong, and determined, Aeron was somebody people underestimated before.

After all, he just suddenly appeared one day. In the middle of the throne room, nonetheless.

Begging for his life, Aeron pleaded the Emperor to not put him in jail for trespassing the palace. So, with the Emperor looking to take advantage of this man, he assigned Aeron to kill the Demon King by himself.

"Isn't that suicide?"

Yes, it was.

But Aeron is desperate. So he agreed to the quest and set off with only a few copper coins, a sword, bow, shield, stale bread, and the clothes on his back.

He's legitimately sent to die.

Only a human. Without any powers, nor he didn't go to the gym that much to have the physical prowess to even have a chance of fighting back.

He was so scared. So small, so powerless in a world filled with unknown magic that he didn't encounter back in earth at all.

He's someone who hopped from party to party, as people only saw him as fodder, or they just scammed him of free labor. Then abandoned once they realized he's off to kill the Demon King.

He tried so hard.

So hard for people to take him seriously.

But all he received was ridicule, harsh words, and spits or beatings for the people who went too far.

Humans, all they cared about are themselves and nobody else.

Selfish, hateful, and evil.

Are they sure the Demon King is the evil one and not them?

His body screamed in pain everyday as he hiked alone and taken advantage of. His wounds severe, his leg cut off. He tried so hard to be so understanding, but what is there to understand of hearts so filled with vile intentions?

Revenge, he was fueled with it.

He wants to see blood, he wants to see them suffering for the suffering he got. Tenfold.

Hero? He was no hero as he cut off the head of the Demon King who was innocent, and didn't do anything wrong.

Does he feel bad?

He feels too bad for himself to feel bad for others.

Waving the head of the Demon King, he trudges back to the Palace. Throwing the head at the feet of the fearful Emperor. Aeron sighs, knowing everything is finally going to his direction as the Emperor grants him Marquess status, after kicking the previous Marquess for corruption.

As the hero, he was regarded as a celebrity. Everyone loved him, and everyone revered him. Those who wronged him before though, now boasts of being his ex-party mates, and that they were the best of friends. Singing praises as if they didn't sling hurtful words to his way before.

Let's just say, they ended up dead the next day for even trying to say those words.

There's only one person who genuinely helped Aeron.

A mage, living alone in the woods on the foot of the Demon King's castle. She's somewhat of an enigma, capable of holding off monsters from trying to invade the Empire, especially the Demon King himself. Sure, the King is innocent, but only because he was not successful in invading the Empire yet due to her.

And she was you.

Truthfully, you were only a bored, overpowered mage who decided to protect the Empire one day. You wield all the main elements in a precision that nobody has topped off before, and sub-elementals in a way that other master wizards only dream of wielding.

OP, sure, but you didn't care about other people's feelings.

So, how did Aeron meet you?

On the way to the top of the castle, he had to take a bath due to being rancid. Showered with monsters' blood left and right, he hadn't had a bath for so long too, focused on killing the Demon King and nothing more. He didn't even care about his leg being gone as he hopped towards the stream.

Then, he saw you. Beautiful, ethereal you.

Bathing under the moonlight, the water cascaded down your skin and onto your curves, and down to the stream once more. Your hair, wet, shines as if stars sparkled within them.

Then your eyes. Deep, sharp, bored.

He was captivated.

"Who are you?" You asked, not even looking at him as you continued to wield the stream's water to make a pseudo shower. "Do not look at me like that, lecher."

Aeron froze, embarassed.

"Ah no, I just... Want to take a bath too when I saw you."

Your gaze looked at him.

"I can see that you really need a bath."

Aeron flushed red once more.

You cracked your neck before standing up. Aeron's eyes followed your every movement as you went up to him.

He could feel his heart beat increase in speed.

Then, feeling an itch on his leg stump, his eyes widened as a grotesque yet mesmerizing event happened. His leg is reforming once more.

"How did you..." He flexed his leg, in awe.

"Take a bath, you smell bad." You dismissed him before going away.

"Your name! Miss..." He yells, eyes erratic.

"Y/N. See you around, future hero."

And you left with a bag of gold, a mana infused sword, bow with mana arrows, and a shield made of obsidian.

The complete opposite of the Emperor.

His heart raced once more as tears fell from his eyes.

The first act of kindness he received in this world.

He vowed to repay you, so he took a bath, and headed straight to the Demon King to fight.

Now, he's here to pay back the kindness you gave him.

And he just hopes you recognize the man in front of you.

Or else.

After helping the Duke Eros in the war and earning another victory in his belt, Aeron rested his body in his chateau once more.

He placed his arm over his eyes, sighing deeply.

little dancing black sprites danced all around him as the sun filtered through the arched windows. These sprites started following him after he defeated the Demon King, and now he wields them like how a magic user does. He's still completely magic-less, but thanks to the sprites, he got to wield magic.

It was sunset, and Aeron just got back from reporting to the Emperor who gloated about the fact that this Empire just won another war.

"That freak." He muttered.

The current Emperor, who just succeeded the previous Emperor who mysteriously died with black sprites latched on his body, was a warfreak who wanted to spread his territory for fun, and spills bloodshed for the thrill of it. He's just the same age as Eros and Aeron, but god is he a crazy motherfucker.

Aeron stood up, letting the sprites dance around his palm as he casted magic on his hand. The sprite absorbed into his skin, making his arm pitch black with his veins dying the dark color. Creeping up to his arm.

"Portal."

The spatial frame cracked, forming a what looked like a broken glass opening.

It opens to the forest, the foot of the Demon King's castle.

His heart rate picked up once more.

He stepped forward, entering into the portal and being teleported into the forest.

One thing he got from the war he was forced to join is a ring with a jewel the same color as your eyes. One with an intricate carving and a unique design. As if veins popped out of the jewel, which was the centerpiece. It's embedded with fae magic that Aeron hopes is useful for you.

His steps heavy, the crunch of the leaves under you filled his ears. He's quiet, even his breathing light and seemingly not there. His time in the war, and fighting different beasts after the Demon King trained his body to perfection.

He stopped in front of the stream once more, a sense of dejavu knocked into him as he watched you bath once more there.

The moonlight filtered through the much bigger trees and into you below. You were much more magnificent than he remembers.

He gulped, itching to touch you, kiss you, feel you.

He felt pent up. But he knows that he should stop himself.

"*ehem*, my lady." He said, back straight and chest out. His eyes sparkling with warmth. "Remember me?"

You, startled as you didn't feel a presence, whipped your body towards him. A stark contrast to how you reacted before.

But, he felt his stomach drop when you looked at him all confused.

"Who are you?"

He suddenly clammed up.

Sweat started to riddle his face, eyes wide with betrayal.

This...

"I'm the person you helped before, my lady. The one without a leg?"

You hummed.

"I don't really recognize you..."

He started to breath heavily and shakily. His eyes, trembling, he tried to find signs of your form if you were joking.

But no, you were serious.

He took a step forward, his lips trying to say something. Anything.

You shrugged at his reaction.

"I help a lot of people, really. So I don't recognize you. Have I helped you? I assume I did, as you said."

But all he could utter was a helpless, silent cry.

This was worse than being exploited.

The only person who was nice to him when he got isekai'ed into this godforsaken world forgot him.

And you helped other people?

Not just him?

Something unknown bubbled deep into his stomach painfully. It felt like it was wrenching into a boulder he can't seem to lift away.

"My Lady... I..." His mouth felt dry.

You shrugged, snapping your fingers and making you instantly dry after you went up to the shore.

Wearing your clothes, you waved to him before going away once more.

Aeron felt sick to his stomach as he keeled over.

He never cried.

He refused to cry for the people who wronged him.

But now, tears flowed down from his eyes as he started to go under a panic attack.

"My Lady... Why... Why don't you remember me..." He sobbed out, his throat painfully clawing out cries of desperation. The tears soaked his cheeks but he didn't care. "You were so nice to me... Why?"

The fantasy he built inside your mind was now broken completely. He thought you will remember him. He didn't consider that you won't remember him.

He felt so lost.

What's all this for?

What is he fighting for?

When his lady doesn't even remember him?

He gripped the grass beneath him. A strangled cry finally gargling out of his mouth.

Why did he feel so attached to you?

Just because you were the nicest to him?

So what? You chose to be nice in this place filled with vile people.

He just wished you didn't.

He just wished you left him alone, maybe even be rude to him like others did if you would just forget him.

But no, you used your magic on him. A pathetic alien in this grotesque world filled with magic and discrimination.

He just wished he would die then and there.

As negative thoughts filled him, the darkness around him seeped into his legs and arms. Like the sprites, black veins crept around his limbs painfully and into his neck.

What is a hero?

His sclera turned black, his breathing became shorter and shorter.

Does a hero need to be always good?

Something poured inside him, making him gargle in pain. Drool dripped down his chin as he snapped out of it. He writhed in pain from the sudden influx of mana inside his body.

Why was he sent to this goddamn world in the first place?

He curled his toes, his body becoming rigid. Like a leech sprinkled with salt, he painfully clawed at his face as he moved around the place. His heart pounding fast, his mind pulsing all over the place.

Is the purpose of him being isekai'ed here is to save the world?

He hacked up blood, keeling over. The boulder in his stomach now a fiery acid he wished to dispel from his body. He vomits out blood again, but it was pitch black.

But if he was destined to be a hero, why is he suffering so much?

He wants the pain to be gone, he wants it off. He wants to ask for your help, to scream for your name to alleviate his pain like you did before. But no sound came from his mouth. Only black and purple smoke as his body underwent changes he never thought would happen.

Please, will you help this poor man?

After an hour, he shakily stood up. He felt that his senses got more sensitive, tenfold. He can feel every beast's emotion. He can feel overwhelming power inside him, same as authority.

After all, you were the light to his world.

And, as hundreds of beasts surround him, a sprite descended from above and placed a crown on his head. The monsters bowed to him. He numbly stood there, looking so disheveled but so ominous as he took a deep sigh.

Give this Demon King a chance, yes?

You flipped through your mythology book, lazily drinking tea.

You just finished eating dinner, and is now lounging at the roof of your treehouse. Intaking the mana into your body slowly, you had a relaxed form as you yawned from tiredness.

Then you felt it.

The sudden influx of demonic power converging into one place.

Your body shivered, goosebumps riddling your skin.

Coincidentally, the page you stopped on had the ritual of birthing the new Demon King.

After defeating the previous Demon King, a person experiencing the worst grief there is, someone who only received harshness and no kindness in his life, will be able to become the Demon King if a trigger happened. May it be betrayal of feelings, or if one act of kindness inside his unfortunate life suddenly turned sour. Creating the Ultimate Grief, the catalyst of the demonic power to surge inside that person.

Will you run away, or investigate, or stay?

You froze, not knowing what to do.

The only person inside the forest is the Empire's Hero earlier, who introduced himself to you.

What happened?

Is this related to you?

But you seriously don't remember him.

Or did you, and just don't want to acknowledge it by some reason?

Your trembling hand reached for your bag and hastily packed up your stuff. The previous Demon King was weak, somebody who lived for so long that his negative Demonic Powers were slowly depleting.

And the birth of a new Demon King is never a good sign.

This is one of the few times you cursed yourself for not learning how to do teleportation.

Two bags. Not enough but will do for now.

You need to warn the Empire.

"AH!"

As you grabbed the bags and tried to get out of your house, you stopped in your tracks when black veins crept on the floorboards, trying to reach your legs.

Heart rate picking up, you got up the couch.

You just knew that if these veins reached you, you are a gonner.

You clutched your bag, hearing a sorrowful moan outside the treehouse.

"My Lady... Why don't you recognize me?"

You're powerless against a newly awakened Demon King.

You can't escape him.

"You're my light, why did you forget me..."

Your walls creaked and moaned under the intense pressure Aeron was emitting. As if they were yelling at you for forgetting him.

"Was it because I was scrawny and dirty back then?"

He continued to wail outside of the treehouse. You tried casting light magic and dark magic, but they didn't do jackshit on the veins. They continued to try and wrap around your legs.

"My lady... Should I bathe myself in blood for you to recognize me?!"

Powerful wind blew away your front door as you screamed in terror.

Aeron stood on the archway, eyes bloodshot and crazy as his handsome visage was filled with grief, longing, love, anger, sadness...

"You're the same as them my lady..."

You searched his face, trying to recognize him. Your body was struggling to stay standing from the amount of pressure being pressed on your body.

Wait, something's coming in your mind.

As an attempt to speed up your memory, you hit your head with the heel of your palm. In a state of panic of wanting to remember immediately.

The floorboards groaned under his weight as Aeron stepped forward to you.

"Remember me, my lady. Please." Dark tears fell on his cheeks. "Please..."

"Ah! You... The man with the bloodiest stench, with the leg stump that I fixed!"

You spoke so fast that Aeron almost didn't catch it.

The wind stopped howling.

"You... You remembered me..." Aeron laughed, his eyes wide with manic desperation. "Oh my god, you do..."

Aeron slumped down, hugging your waist as he wept.

"My lady, you're too much! You should have told me that you remember me sooner!" He laughed lightly, holding your hand as he buried his face on your stomach.

The sudden shift in mood sent you into a harsh whiplash.

"I-I'm sorry." You whispered, not getting this man in front of you at all.

"I forgive you." He whispered, hands wrapped around you tight.

He feels so good now. No more grief, no more crying.

He just knows you remember him now. Nobody matters but you, and your recognition of him.

"My Lady, i'm here to propose." He suddenly said, making your blood run cold.

And, as he separated himself from you, he kneeled down on both knees, as if pleading you to say yes.

This man, the greatest hero of the Empire, was now kneeling in front of you. Awakened as a Demon King from the grief you caused. His eyes hooded, dripping with overwhelming affection for you.

What have you done?

You've condemned the Empire, this world to a Demon King once more.

"My life here in this Empire was the worst. Everyone hated me, took advantage of me, stole from me, abused me in every way possible. I lost hope, and was driven with revenge. But you, my lady. You showed me kindness when no one did, and I knew you are my soulmate." He confessed passionately, his voice dripping honey sweet with delusional feelings for you. "So, be my wife, my marchioness, my queen..."

You've got the Demon King and the Greatest Hero wrapped around your finger.

Be proud.

And, as you nodded hesitantly, he slipped in the ring he was fidgeting with earlier.

You flinched, feeling it tighten around your digit. Spikes digging slightly, making sure you cannot take it off of you no matter what.

You want to scream at him for this absurd ring, but the ominous smile he had made you clam up.

You are his salvation, and he would die without you.

So chin up, and hold onto the leash tight,

You won't know when this rabid dog will bite the hand that feeds him.

And you don't intend to fuck around and find out.

[anotherandomcollection]

Perhaps in another life...

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≻─ ⋆✩ pairings: mavuika x fem!reader (can be read as gn!reader) ≻─ ⋆✩ warnings: some kind of fluff?, angst! - not beta read. probably ooc mavuika so... sorry in advance ≻─ ⋆✩ spoilers?: 5.0 Archon Quest (Act I & II) ≻─ ⋆✩ author's note: idk I feel like writing some angst so I may as well try with a new little idea I had... I also wrote this at like 2am with a sudden rush of inspiration...

I haven't written in a while and I'm completely new to this, I have never written on tumblr so forgive my formatting please. I don't know how to feel about this

≻─ ⋆✩ word count: 1.6K

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The traveler says nothing as they observe the Pyro archons family portrait, one that had been painted to her family's likeness. Apart from her parents and her sister, there had been someone else, clearly bearing no resemblance to any of the family, this someone had their arms linked around the archon - everyone smiling. The traveler notes how the archon can't seem to tear her gaze away from the portrait, before she snaps back to the situation at hand. Her eyes drift back to the image during their conversation and they wonder just how long the archon's duties had kept this archon away from her family. The answer was too long - longer than what the traveler had ever imagined.

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The day your love officially decides to sacrifice herself, was one you already knew was coming. There had been discussions for long before it had been finalised and you were just hoping that your darling wife could let a different archon do this... It's not like Natlan lacked in archons, with the possibility for any human to ascend to the seat. Sure, it was selfish, that much you knew but did she really have to be the one? It hurt to know that Mavuika had to be - to give up her life and return five centuries in the future. Five centuries and without you. And you would live the rest of your life without her.

There had been arguments and heated discussions that ended up resulting in everyone's anger and it helped no one, really. At some point, you had to accept it, before you sent off your love with anger instead of some final memories of love and joy. Her mind was clearly made up, long before the final announcement.

It was hard, of course. Hard to accept because suddenly your wife was a ticking time bomb. A set date and a set time, where she would cease to be with you and then she would be lost. She would die and sure, she would be resurrected later... But not in your life time. She would be gone and you would never see your wife alive again. It had felt almost like a doctor's diagnosis, when they give you a time limit. But at least people still had the hope of fighting off an illness and pushing through. This date was final and it was becoming so very real and closing in so very fast.

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The last of her days were spent easy and quiet. Away from the archon life and responsibilities - Mavuika had already ensured she completed everything before the announcement. She had her last days to be spent, after all.

You'd gone out together with her sister, Hine, travelling around Natlan one last time... There had been time spent curled up together, relishing in each other's warmth once more and the comfort found in each other's arms. Soon, sleep would not come easy for you. Too used to the warmth of your lover.

You'd brought her for a quick visit to Sumeru, though it had been rather uneventful and... A lot of sand. More than you'd ever encountered in Natlan and finer than you'd encountered. Dunes and dunes of sand in every direction and wind that blew the sand everywhere and it had stubbornly clung to everything. You spend time still getting sand out of your clothes and bags long after your darling has passed.

In the nights, quiet words of comfort are exchanged and promises made. Mavuika had already requested her wedding ring be kept somewhere... Somewhere she could find when she inevitably rose once more in the future. You cling to your wife, even in your sleep and you dream of a future that you will never be able to have with her.

At times, it feels like you are grieving the loss before it happens. But how do you not when you know it would happen already?

No matter how much fun and laughter is spent together in each day. No matter the soft kisses and tender touches... Your wife would die in a matter of days. And you were powerless to stop it.

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"Come on love, its time to get up", She whispers, though she doesn't shake you awake. The sun had long rose and the colours of the sky had shifted from the orange and purple sunrise hues into the bright sky of a new day. You looked ethereal - the sunlight catching in your hair and sprawled across the pillows. And so at peace, without the weight of a hidden grief that you carried over the last few weeks.

She supposes it was how you saw her when she set her hair aflame. 'it's beautiful, angelic even...', you'd told her once. If she brought up the comparison you would probably laugh. Something about how the sunlight in your hair could not compare to an archon's beauty. Her beauty. But still she watches as the sun dances across your skin with a wonderful glow.

"We don't have anything on today.", Is the only response she gets, your voice laced with sleep, before you bury your face into her neck, turning away from the sun's glare. You can feel her laughter as she runs her fingers through your hair and you are lulled back to sleep with the rhythmic and soothing quality of it. When you wake later, you find yourself still tangled with your wife and she too had been dragged back to the land of dreams.

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The day comes and... The moment your wife gives you the last kiss, last hug and last touch... It passed numbly. She hugs her family goodbye, final words are exchanged... and then she's gone. You had not been allowed to witness the actual sacrifice and you did not want to either ways. The feeling remains numb until it's night time and you're alone. Alone for the first time in... Years. Since you had married, she had always been home for bed, curling up together and relishing in the warmth that radiated through the house. Warmth of the person, in both the figurative and literal sense... And it was gone.

The dam breaks and you cry yourself to sleep. You wake exhausted, despite the full night of rest and it is painful. You force yourself to go about your day and life continues on.

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It hurts even more, when Hine, still young and perhaps she had not quite grasped the meaning of gone. She's inconsolable at first, but soon gains a kind of fire in her, insistent that there's some way of seeing her sister again in the future. Her determination would have been adorable, if you weren't already aware that living that long was impossible and just barely coping with your grief. And unlike your wife (ex...wife? No, she was your wife even if she had passed.) no one else really had that 'wayob ordained purpose' to rise again and protect Natlan from destruction so far into the future.

Five centuries was almost unfathomable to you. No one, short of gods and perhaps the Adepti you hear about in stories from Liyue could live that long. But you were no such mythical beast nor were you a god. You were as human as they got and so was Hine.

Regardless, you force a kind smile as you work together to theorise ways to live that long. To see her sister again and to see your wife again. It's not possible, you already know, and you hoped that her sister would see it before she was too far gone in her aspirations for the far future. She does, eventually, almost a full year later when the passion mellow and it finally hits that she's gone. You hold each other as you both cry and mourn the loss of a loved one.

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Five centuries later and Mavuika rises once more. She finds the wedding ring that she painstakingly stored and had a family portrait made. Painted onto her father's old armour, she describes her family to the best of her ability and she almost weeps at the likeness that the artist manages to capture.

She cannot mourn now, not really. She already accepted her fate in the centuries before and she knew what she was giving up. But if not her, then who? She had a duty to her nation. The grief hits her in the quiet hours of the night when she isn't the Pyro archon of Natlan but just Mavuika . No one fights alone - but why did she feel like this was a battle she was oh no lonely in. So far into the future and so much has changed since the past.

Unfortunately, little survives five centuries of erosion. She doesn't know exactly of what happens to her family. Her sister... Has some records and she pieces together that her younger sister managed to be an architect. Playing a major role in rebuilding the Scions of the Canopy.

But you... Some evidence points to you also became an architect alongside her sister. Helping to rebuild and design the children of the Echoes. Some say you died young, a mysterious disease that compromised your immune systems. Others say you eventually left Natlan to a different nation, which one is unclear but you never returned until much later in life. But all records are alike in stating that you never remarried and never took on another love.

And so Mavuika sits alone and she prays (to who? to who does an archon pray to?) that in the end, her sacrifice is worth it. That giving up everything had been worth it. And she hopes, so desperately that when her (second) human life expires, she can see you again.

[nilfgaardianleviosa]

PAIRING: Dark!Levi Ackerman/f!Reader

TAGS: magic AU, angst, betrayal, pining, enemies to lovers, sexual content, character death, choose your own ending

SUMMARY: The Archmage has sent you to infiltrate a dangerous necromancy cult, an opportunity to prove your dedication to the Mages Guild. But in the depths of the Order’s lair, you encounter someone you never expected: the mage who has haunted your thoughts and dreams for years.

He’s not the man you once knew, and he forces you to make a choice—forsake your morals for a beloved mentor turned enemy, or find the strength to fight him to the death.

A/N: Reposting this story bc my first attempt at formatting it on tumblr was shite. I'm learning new things, hooray!

[AO3 Link]

Full story below the cut!

Fithragaer, the only surviving Battlemage, was dead.

The sound of stone grinding against stone assaulted your ears as the floor descended from the dungeon’s ceiling. The elf’s body lay there, head smashed in and fancy armor demolished in a crumpled pile. Your encounter with him had been incredibly brief. One moment he was introducing himself and explaining your dire straights, the next he was leading the charge right into a deadly trap.

A few mindless skeletons carrying rusted swords ran towards you from across the room, but as soon as they stepped foot on the trap floor, it rocketed upwards again, and with a satisfying crunch it felled the enemies on your behalf.

Guess you should probably go around.

The lair was filled with necromancers, all on high alert. You entered room after room, avoiding more traps and using magic to fight off the guild-less mages and their undead creatures and dark, ghostly summons. Fithragaer was right, someone had warned them you were coming, although it was unclear who.

The elven Battlemage had been sent by the Council of Mages to kill Mucianus Allias, a spy within the necromancy cult. You, on the other hand, an Evoker of the Mages Guild, had been sent by special request of Archmage Traven to make sure Mucianus was alive; Traven hadn’t been so quick to assume that a lack of correspondence meant Mucianus had turned traitor.

This was the first time the Archmage had sent you on a personal quest, and you were determined not to let him down. You had worked incredibly hard over the years, completing quests for every city’s guild hall in order to earn enough recommendations to be granted access to the Arcane University. Now you were making your way up the ladder, and perhaps you would be given a higher rank upon your success here today. Magician, they would call you. A bit silly of a title, but its stature certainly held more meaning than Evoker.

The search for Mucianus proved fruitless up until you reached a set of carved stone doors at the end of the dungeon. Doors like these typically indicated a stronger being was lying in wait behind them, so you conjured a superior set of Bound Armor—a red and black Daedric set, as all the bound weapons appeared—and summoned a skeletal guardian to fight by your side.

You took a moment to smile at its boney face, reminded of how ironically similar the magic of conjuration was to necromancy. The two schools of magic were clearly very related, and the lines between them often blurred. Yes, you could summon creatures from the dead and command followers of the Daedric Prince of Darkness and Destruction, but at least you weren’t binding the souls of people to dead bodies for your own selfish gain.

Feeling well-prepared for the final encounter, you pushed the heavy stone door open to reveal the main hall. It was a huge room with a high ceiling, and there was a single lit chandelier in the center, lit by magical green flames. At the far end, bracketed by magical torches, stood an altar stained in blood.

Stilling your nerves, you walked inside. It was eerily quiet, nothing like with the chatty necromancers in all the other chambers. But once you had made it to the center of the hall, a voice rang out.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

The sound of boot heels against the floor echoed through the darkness, and your eyes darted around, searching for their origin. The voice sounded so eerily familiar that the back of your neck began to prickle with unease.

A hooded figure stepped out from the darkness, wearing a dark purple cloak with swirling golden accents that glimmered in the flickering torchlight. He was carrying a golden staff that was nearly a head taller than him. The top of it split into a double-headed snake, each with long, sinister fangs and glowing red eyes.

Another necromancer, but one of much higher caliber than those you had defeated on your quest to find Mucianus.

You mentally ordered your skeleton to hold its attack and called out to the figure. “Who are you?”

He didn’t answer your question. “Out of all the mages to become one of Traven’s lapdogs, I never expected you to volunteer for the position.”

That voice. It was nagging at your subconscious, and now he was claiming to know you, but you couldn’t let your guard down. Necromancers were conniving.

You took a step back and lit your hands with magical flames. “Answer me now. Or I won’t hesitate to attack.”

He chuckled lowly. “Would you really hurt an old friend?”

Old friend?

The stranger reached up to pull his hood back, and the shadow over his face retreated to reveal black hair, pale skin, and a face you had long ago given up hope of ever seeing again.

It was Levi. The former Warlock of your guild hall in Chorrol. An incredibly powerful mage who had spent countless hours beating the art of conjuring into your head. Despite him never officially taking you on as an apprentice, you had once thought of him as a master. That is, until he broke away from the guild without any explanation, leaving you behind and forcing you to overcome torrential feelings of loss and betrayal.

After all these years you had never forgiven him for not offering a reason for his departure, for not even giving you a way of knowing he was alive. And now here he was, standing in front of you.

“Levi…”

He tilted his head and smiled, a fond smile that filled you with melancholy. “Hello, little apprentice.”

“What—what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Traven sent you here to retrieve the spy, right?”

He knew about Mucianus. But how?

In your deepest hopes you wanted it to mean that Levi was on your side, that perhaps he had been informed of the mission by Archmage Traven because he was also a double agent.

But you could not risk pinning everything on such naive fantasies. Not when Levi had yet to come running to you, apologizing for all the grief he had caused. Not when he was this comfortably deep in a hideout of the Order of the Black Worm.

“What are you talking about?” you asked warily.

He smirked, eyes darkening. Then he raised a hand to the side and beckoned into the darkness. A low moaning came from the archway nearby, and soon your worst fears were realized as a zombie shambled into the dim light.

“Here he is,” said Levi, amused. “He’s been reborn, as a worm thrall.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Mucianus, a high-level mage, turned into nothing but some sort of walking dead. It was an abomination. How could this have happened to him? Who could have—

No.

You snapped your head towards Levi, fire blazing hotter in your widened palms. “Did you do this?”

He was calm in the face of your accusation. “Is the picture becoming clear, now?”

“No, tell me you haven’t joined them.”

“That I have, mageling.”

Mageling. A patronizing nickname given to you by Levi back at the guild hall. You would have never put up with it from anyone but him. But now it was clear he had joined the necromancers, betrayed you in every way possible, which meant he no longer had any right to be so familiar. This man wasn’t the one you had known so intimately before.

“How could you?”

Magical flames blazed as hot as your inner fury, and you conjured a fireball between both hands, firing it at him. Levi erected a magical barrier just in time to block it, and a burst of fire exploded against the invisible shield before dissipating.

He raised his staff, snake heads high above his head, as a glowing red orb grew from their center. Then a bolt of crackling energy sliced through the air, heading straight towards you. You rolled away quickly enough to avoid being struck, only for it to totally annihilate your skeleton, sending bones flying in all directions.

You gaped at the space where it had stood. That wasn’t a low-level skeleton, it was a guardian. And Levi had just destroyed it in one hit.

A near crippling fear filled your stomach, but the hum of Levi’s staff snapped you out of it. You stayed on the move, skirting around the room as his spells crackled and spat beams of red lightning at your heels.

Instead of just letting him fire at you, you conjured smaller, one-handed fireballs and hucked them in his direction, forcing him on the defense. His icy blue gaze calmly followed you, but then you broke his sightline by hiding behind a pillar, using what you knew would only be a brief moment to collect yourself.

Levi, a necromancer! How could this have happened? He hadn’t even given you time to think, much less process this grave news. Right now, all you could focus on was the fight.

You had put a lot of power behind those attacks, but he’d hardly looked affected by them, which didn’t bode well at all. Levi had already been a much more powerful mage than you at the guild hall—an expert conjurer who had likely now mastered the art. You had grown many times over since then and were quite capable of outsmarting more powerful mages, but you had no idea what he was capable of now as a necromancer.

“Why are you hiding?” called Levi. “Are you scared of me?”

You didn’t answer, trying to focus on devising a plan despite your thoughts raging like whirlwinds, but then Levi’s taunting voice interrupted again.

“You really should keep moving.”

An eerie cacophony of creaking resounded around the previously quiet hall, and then a horde of skeletons emerged from the darkness in front of you, like they had been waiting there for his order to attack. As you stood in horror, one of them threw a giant axe at your head, catching in the stone pillar right next to your cheek.

Holy fuck. A centimeter closer and you would have been dead.

Still no time to think. The rest were now running at you with swords and maces, and you were forced to follow Levi’s advice and stay on the move. Anticipating his plan to deprive you of cover, you ducked out from behind the pillar and pivoted to throw up a shield.

But Levi was too fast. A bolt of lightning struck your shoulder, piercing through your bound armor enough to sear flesh. You cried out in pain, but you forced your eyes to stay open and alert.

The armored skeletons were now hot on your heels, bones creaking and teeth chattering, and you redirected your focus from the pain in order to start running again. The skeletons looked weak, but there were too many of them to stand against outright, and you knew Levi would never conjure something that couldn’t swiftly bring your death.

You swapped spells as you ran, casting your highest-level Turn Undead spell on as many skeletons as you could. Thank the Gods it was successful. All of them ran off but four, and without enough magicka to turn them you swapped to a low-effort cold spell, blasting ice over your shoulder to freeze their feet to the floor.

“Very good,” said Levi, still standing comfortably at the center of the room.

You ducked behind another pillar and took the opportunity to down a blue magicka potion, throwing the bottle to the ground and immediately summoning a flame atronach. The portal swirled in the air, and a fiery creature covered in armor stepped out.

No time to admire your summon, you mentally gave it the order to attack, and it set off for Levi, winding its arms back to lob endless amounts of fireballs at him. You heard him chuckle as he easily blocked the attacks; this was certainly small fry for him, but you had only intended to distract him enough to sink an arrow into his chest.

Staying on alert in case of more undead minions, you conjured a bound bow and waited until Levi began to cast spells back at the atronach. Hoping he was thoroughly occupied, you stepped out from behind the pillar, drawing a magical arrow and aiming it at him. His focus immediately moved to you, but he was in the middle of blocking an incoming fireball with his staff, so you let the arrow fly, knocking another one to follow right after it.

The first one pierced his shoulder, making him stumble back in pain, but he maintained enough concentration to conjure a shield just in time to block the second one. In return, he raised his staff and summoned a gloom wraith, a ghastly floating creature, which began casting nasty spells at your atronach, drawing its attention away to defending itself. It gave Levi the perfect opportunity to turn to you.

As soon as his furious eyes met yours again, you were filled with life-preserving fear, and you ducked back, realizing that you were going to have to think of another plan very quickly. You could at least try to distract him with conversation while you thought.

The two minions were making quite a ruckus with their fighting, so you shouted over them. “Why are you doing this, Levi?”

He was silent for a moment. “I selected the path that fit me best. Just as you chose the Guild, I chose the Order.”

“The Order is nothing but scum. They manipulate souls for their own gain!”

“You sound very hypocritical. How many necromancers did you kill to make it here? Did the guild ever tell you to stay your hand against them?”

“That’s different. Self defense. You’re binding souls against their will.”

“Is that the worst of it, mageling?”

You gritted your teeth in silence. Clearly you weren’t getting to him. You could feel your drained magicka return just barely enough for another summon spell. The atronach was starting to lose the fight against the wraith. There wasn’t any time left to think. You would have to work with your current resources.

You lifted your hands to cast another spell, but then a set of fingers suddenly wrapped around your wrist, jerking your arm back. The spell fizzled in the air, and you turned in surprise to see Levi standing next to you. He hadn’t been anywhere near you a moment ago, how the hell did he get there so fast? He couldn’t have—

A crackle of red sparked in his palm, and not a second later your whole body was swathed in electricity. Levi watched with half-lidded eyes as you went rigid in his grasp, your face contorting in pain.

Then, quite mercifully, he stopped.

As soon as the magic holding your body upright was gone, your head swam and your legs gave out. Levi caught you around the waist, and you came to only a few moments later, finding yourself looking up into the eyes of your former teacher.

You were aghast to notice that he didn’t look a day older than the last time you had seen him. Those stark blue eyes, wisened through years of studying the magical arts, were still there, too. He was holding you, gazing at you. Like you were a lost puppy he had found on the road.

For a moment it felt like you were back at the guild’s training grounds, just another day of being bested by Levi in mock combat. Except now you were experiencing a certain type of closeness that you had ached for but never received.

But then something sparked in his eyes, different from before—sinister and hungry—and you realized that the window into Levi’s seemingly boundless knowledge had been darkened by the evil magic to which he had fallen. The good mage you once knew was no longer staring back.

There was nothing left to long for, and you couldn’t stand to be in his arms.

“Get off.” You cast Burning Touch and shoved your hands against his chest, fire lighting from your fingertips.

Despite his likely very magic-resistant mage robes, he let out a hiss and dropped you onto the unforgiving stone floor. You winced and scrambled backwards, keeping an eye on him as you got to your feet. He swiped the remaining flames from his robe with a look of disgust. That was one thing about Levi, he was always a perfectionist when it came to being clean.

He raised a hand at you, and you cast a powerful block spell in response, but it wasn’t anywhere near strong enough. Levi’s power immediately overwhelmed yours, severe and all-encompassing, and then your whole body was rendered immobile by paralysis.

That spell was unfathomably strong. Never had you experienced such power. You imagined this was what fighting an archmage might have felt like, but Levi couldn’t have possibly been at that level yet… Except, he had teleported to you earlier.

Had he been holding back on you this entire fight?

“That one won’t last long.” He snapped his fingers, conjuring something behind you, and a pair of armored demonic hands grabbed your wrists and pulled them behind your back. A dremora? Summoned so quickly with just the snap of his fingers? That settled it. Levi’s power had truly grown beyond your comprehension.

“That was fun,” said Levi, pulling your magic arrow out of his shoulder and tossing it away as he walked toward you. “You’re more powerful than I remember, but you’re still weak.”

“Let me go,” you shouted, wishing you could at least put up a struggle.

Levi stopped in front of you reached a hand toward your face. The paralysis spell held you still as his cold fingers brushed across your cheek, a gentle caress that made your heart race. He gazed at you silently, curiously, as if he were a lover taking in your beauty. But then he gripped your face tightly, fingers digging into your cheek as he casted a Drain Life spell. You gritted your teeth in pain, and Levi breathed deeply as your health transferred to him, healing the arrow wound in his shoulder.

“Bastard..!”

He pulled his hand away, examining you as you panted from exertion. Fighting had tired you out, and having your life force drained left you feeling incredibly weak.

“I never expected to see you again,” he mused. “Could this be fate, you think?”

“Fate? What are you talking about? Good fortune doesn’t come to traitors.”

He frowned. “I’m no traitor. The guild betrayed me when the council refused to listen to reason, so I made the choice to leave.”

“What reason? You joined a cult, Levi.”

“Cult?” he repeated. “Do you think so low of me? So little of the Order?”

“Of course I do. Your ‘Order’ has done nothing but threaten the guild for years. You and I fought against them, remember? Back when you were sane? You called them stupid necromancers, said they had lost their minds, that mastering conjuration should be enough for anyone seeking to become powerful.”

His eyes betrayed his remembrance, but it didn’t seem to matter. “I was wrong, because I did master it, and I still wasn’t strong enough. Just look at you: you’ve risen through the ranks enough for Traven to send you searching for his dirty little spy. And yet you’re so weak that I could kill you without a second thought.”

In that moment, the paralysis spell ended, but the daedra’s grip on your wrists didn’t relax. You struggled against it anyway. “Who cares if you can kill me? You told me before that you wanted to help people. That the Order was a blight on Cyrodiil. What happened, Levi? You were good… I—I looked up to you.”

He clicked his tongue, expression turned pitying. “I know you did, mageling.”

The nickname made your heart hurt, like a spell meant to flood you with nostalgia. And flood you it did.

You couldn’t help but think back to the memories you shared. The time he demanded to join you on your most dangerous quest at the behest of your guild’s leadership. When he met you in the training yard and taught you new spells without you even asking. How often you broke bread and drank wine with him in the mess hall after many a perilous mission. The way his enigmatic eyes would stick to you in mere passing moments that seemed to last eons.

These memories were too fond to dig up again. You had buried them for a reason. It had been years of wondering where he had gone, of having no way to contact him, and it had left you with no choice but to try to forget.

You gritted your teeth. “Never call me that again.”

Levi smirked. “What? Bring up too many memories?”

“Don’t taunt me.”

“Are you thinking about what we had back then? Wondering why I left you behind?”

You stared at him, throat tightening enough to deprive you of words. His guesses were far too accurate, and you wondered if he could still see through you after all these years.

At that moment, your Bound Armor spell ended, Daedric metal dissipating. Levi stepped forward, smoothing out the wrinkles on your mage cloak that had been hidden underneath.

“Would you believe me if I told you that you weren’t ready? That I couldn’t bring myself to rip an apprentice away from their training? You were just a fledgling, too naive to possibly understand my reason for leaving.” He met your eyes, keeping a hand at your chest. “But now you’re seasoned. You’ve seen the true heart of the Mages Guild, and they see potential in you. As do I.”

Pride mixed with confusion at his praise—something that never came easily with Levi. He was a stern Warlock, unforgiving, always expecting nothing but greatness, and yet despite his cold nature you never lost the sense that he cared for you, that he yearned for your success as much as you did.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you said, tears stinging your eyes. “You’ve made us enemies.”

He stepped closer. “We don’t have to be enemies. You could join me. Together we could become the most powerful necromancers under Mannimarco. I could teach you more—become your master. Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

It was. It truly was. But that desire couldn’t negate the sickness you felt at the thought of becoming an underling for a thousand-year-old evil lich. You opened your mouth to refuse, but then Levi leaned in and whispered in your ear.

“And, we could make up for all our years of separation.” His breath made goosebumps rise on your skin. “Did you not pine for me, in my absence?”

You shuddered at the sensations, at the heat of his body close to yours, and you lied, “At times, yes, but eventually I forgot about you.”

He hummed and reached up to caress your cheek, his voice entrancing. “I thought about you every day, my little apprentice. I thought about those big, curious eyes of yours, always looking to me for answers, and I remembered how much I loved to deprive you of them. Make you seek them out for yourself. It was always worth it to see the pride glowing on your face upon your own success.”

He pulled back, gaze flicking between your lips and your eyes, fingers curling around your chin. “I always wanted you to make your own decisions, and now is no different. You have a choice, mageling. You can choose to see that necromancy is just an extension of our power, and that I am no different than the man you knew in Chorrol. Or you and I can continue our battle. You can fight for your arbitrary sides of good and evil, and I will fight for my freedom to seek knowledge that others have deemed forbidden.”

A painful ultimatum. For someone who claimed to enjoy giving you free will, this wasn’t much of a choice. How could you choose between leaving everything you knew behind or fighting your beloved teacher to the death?

“You really won’t come back? The only way I can have you again is to follow you down this path?”

“That’s right,” he whispered, dark blue irises capturing yours. “Leave it all behind. Come with me. I’ll take care of you.”

This promise. An offer to join hands with him in life, go back to how things were before, and finally move beyond unspoken love. Could he be lying to persuade you? It was possible. But every instinct, every nerve buzzing at his closeness, told you this was real.

You could no longer justify resisting temptation.

“Kiss me. Please.”

All restraint eliminated by a few words, he closed the last few millimeters of space between you, pressing his lips against yours in a deep, intense kiss. The dremora behind you disappeared, freeing your hands to grasp Levi’s robes and pull yourself into him. His aura satiated something within you that had been forever starved, and you let yourself become consumed by it, lavishing in it, your heart swelling with a hope that nearly drowned out your rationality.

This moment was all you had ever wanted. Your love for him encompassed your whole being, and yet there was a brooding darkness surrounding you, the twisted reality of the world bearing upon your fates.

Was this the end? Your final embrace with the man who had occupied your thoughts for years?

There’s nothing left for us. I must put aside my feelings and do what must be done, for the Mages Guild. — Ending 1

He still means the world to me. Even if he has gone where I can never follow, I can’t bring myself to hurt him. — Ending 2

This must be a sign. If I don’t choose him now, I may never get the choice again. — Ending 3

[greycloudsinwinter]

What if yandere Thranduil and Fairy reader met like this? She is with the dwarves and meets Thranduil when they are all captured. If the fairy reader was determined to help with the dwarves. So to continue with them on this adventure. What would Yandere Thranduil do?

YANDERE THRANDUIL X COMPANY READER

🪽when Thranduil meets you a perfect fairy travelling with pesky dwarves he is shocked. So shocked you should be cherished not travelling with them.

🪽locks the the dwarves in the dungeons and has you personally taken to his chambers.

🪽fight him all you want but he won’t let you go…

🪽will offer you a deal we’re the company is free to fufill there quest as long as you stay with him.

🪽 you can’t be selfish you HAVE to agree to him.

🪽it’s way to dangerous for you to be travelling without proper protection (he doesn’t believe the dwarves would look after you).

🪽if you disagreed then he would keep you locked in his room and wait for you to break. And you beg for him to stay with you and comfort you.

🪽he makes you forget about the company in say becoming more possessive and obsessive.

Thank you for your request ❤️❤️

[yanderes-galore]

I made it to 5 pm unscathed!!

Can I please request a romantic concept for Yuria of Londor (Dark Souls 3)?

🕊️ anon

Sure! Sorry if it's short... I couldn't find much personality-wise on her :( As usual, 'Lord' is used to refer to you, but you do not have to be male. FromSoftware tends to make the title gender neutral.

Yandere! Yuria of Londor Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Controlling behavior, Possessive behavior, Isolation, Deception, Forced "relationship".

I have noticed when it comes to FromSoftware yanderes, there's really two categories characters fall into.

Protective guardians that defend their obsession.

Or manipulative/controlling yanderes that lie/deceive their obsession to keep them under their control.

Based on Yuria's actions and dialogue, I have deduced that she's in the second category.

You are no doubt the Unkindled protagonist, the Ashen One.

The very same one she and the rest of Londor appear to manipulate into being their Lord of Hollows.

How you end up taking her quest line is manipulative in nature.

Yoel tempts you with power, calling you a Lord before he dies.

Then you're left in the hands of Yuria.

She herself calls you her Lord, forcing you into this role.

She encourages you to take the flickering First Flame for all of mankind, to create a new age.

She's another character who appears to "guide" you, when in reality she's just making you a pawn.

She can easily manipulate her dearest, especially when obsessed.

You're her Lord, soon you'll create a new future.

She deems you strong, strong enough to harness the Flame.

Strong enough to survive in a world like this...

You're worthy of making a new age.

In fact, death cannot even take you until you fulfill your goal.

Your destiny is in the Flame.

She wishes to guide you to it.

She knows you are not meant to marry her.

Yuria should be unable to have her Lord's heart.

Your love should belong to another.

Yet Yuria is completely devoted to you, loyal as long as you continue the plan.

You may be Unkindled, yet you are Hollow nonetheless.

She may be breaking a few rules... but Yuria wants your heart for herself.

Selfish? Indeed it is.

But Yuria is simply unable to share her Lord.

She's enamored with you.

She encourages and forces you to take the Flame and start a new age.

There's no need for the Flame to continue.

The age of mankind has been long due.

Even if you try to remove the Dark Sigils Yoel gave you, Yuria would prevent it from happening.

You may not know much about her... but she quickly takes your hands in hers and begs you to marry her.

You have proven yourself better than many others.

Your heart should really go to Anri.

Anri is a fellow Unkindled, one you should marry due to fate.

But Yuria decides one little change shouldn't hurt.

She pleads for her Lord to forgive her, she's hopelessly in love.

She may not deserve you.

Yet she wishes to have you anyways.

Please do not fight, Ashen Lord...

Yuria only wishes to serve you in every way possible as her beloved lord.

You will still be an usurper, yet she will be your spouse instead...

It doesn't matter if you aren't meant to be hers...

She won't give you up for anything.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Almighty (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Leara being sickening is my favorite thing in the world -Danny Words: 2,025 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'BIRDS OF A FEATHER' -by Billie Eilish

XXXVII: Girl Talk! *Guttural Screaming*

Once the night comes, Ara talks with Calypso and Leo on the rooftop. She stands before them, no longer stressed about what she'll say. "Your journey ends here. We all know it even if we don't want to admit it."

Calypso smiles hesitantly. "I like it here." She looks at Leo, who's not smiling. "But Leo can't stay when you're on the move, all you wanted was to be together—"

"Because I thought he'd be happier, now I see I was wrong. He'll be better if he stays."

"Why don't you stop talking as if I'm not in the room?" He raises a brow. "I can speak for myself, ladies."

"Speak, then," Ara shrugs.

Leo opens his mouth, looking like he has a counterargument, but nothing comes. His brow furrows. "Well, so what if I like it here?" He says, sounding childish. "I also like it at camp, and I love you! Calypso can stay, she'll have fun with the garden and Jo can help her with her magic—and having people around won't let her miss the island, but me? I'm good on the run, Sunshine."

"You're tired, Leo," she retorts tenderly. "You've been carrying the weight of this quest for a whole month, and this isn't what you came back to life for."

"Cal, can you give us a moment?" Leo requests, his voice strangely steady.

"I'll give you the night," she squeezes his shoulder gently, then reaches for Ara's hand, "thank you for bringing me here. And Leo..." she looks at him with understanding. "You risked your life just to get me out of Ogygia—a friend like you is rare, and you can always count on me."

"Thanks, Cal." Once the girl leaves, he runs a hand over his face and sighs. "Listen, Arae... You know this don't come easy for me, and it sounds like the same over and over, but it's not. It is, but different—"

"Take your time," Ara guides him to sit on a nearby bench.

He sits and repeatedly taps "I love you" in Morse code on his knee. "When I met you, you wouldn't look at me for longer than a second unless I was doing some cool, Hephaestus-like thing. You liked me for my skills—I had only been called a good-for-nothing delinquent thanks to them before I met you..." His hand laces with hers. "A part of me felt I was just another boy that came to help you learn something about yourself and would eventually dissolve into nothing like..."

"Michael?" She offers softly. 

Leo lowers his gaze. "There is so much about you that doesn't need me... Chiron was right, romance is a distraction—And I'm selfish because I know it and I still cling to you and tell you I love you."

Ara squeezes his hand. "You're so wonderful—look at what you've accomplished! And I love you just as much as you love me, but we're not Helen and Paris, we're more than just a good couple, and I think we owe it to ourselves to find out what we can do without curses forcing us to speed-run our lives."

Leo cleans his nose with the back of his free hand. "Just my luck... Meeting a hot girl, then getting dumped once she's not forced to be with me."

"I'm not—"

"I know, I just—"

"I'm not dumping you," she clarifies. "On our first date, you told me 'I don't do slow', and that's why we're here. We ran through every first without enjoying them because we were too busy trying to reach the next step, and we don't even know where we want to go."

"We haven't done all the firsts," he points out. "But I get it."

Ara gifts him a smile. "Knowing that we'd like to be together forever isn't enough to make it work. I don't even know if I'll even grow old!"

"Man, that's the worst part," Leo runs a hand over his face once more. "If I felt sorry just for myself, that would be nothing new. I'd sit my ass and wallow in my misery knowing I'd survive it, but your fate? That's what's got me stressing—heck, I can't even begin to list all the ways the fates are screwing with you."

Ara stares at him plainly. "Thanks."

"Sorry," Leo says offhandedly. "But it's true. You gave your 100%, and they were like—Actually, you've got some left. Hand it over!"

"Well, I wanted everything I could get, and when you want everything..." Ara shrugs, her palms facing skyward. "You gotta give up all. I can't be the best and have a life."

"No life at all?" Leo asks, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. "Are you really going to let yourself die?"

Ara kisses his forehead. "No. What I did for Georgie and Lit..." she blushes with pride. "I think stuff like that would be worth all the thousand other terrible things immortality brings."

Leo feels himself breathing for the first time in days. "Good. I'll burn juicy offerings for you tonight," he kisses her neck. "What do you want?"

"From you? Cash only—or kisses, if you're feeling generous," she retorts playfully.

The boy grins approvingly. "You're my favorite Olympian already." He pecks her on the lips. "You know, I know we're not them... but I think Paris was right to start a war over Helen. People just don't get the vibe nowadays."

Ara laughs, which is all Leo ever truly wants out of life.

"I'll go find Cal so we talk to Emmie and Jo, tell them we're staying," Leo says as they reach the living area. "I'd tell you to sleep well, but..."

Ara kisses him softly. "Have a good night, I'll finish Festus for you."

"You're an angel," he mumbles before kissing her again.

When the boy leaves, Ara goes to the bronze dragon, crouching and opening a panel to ensure his wings aren't loose. While she's working, someone speaks over her, where the griffins' nests are. "Not tired?"

"Oh!" Lester's voice comes out shaky when he finds himself alone with Jimmy. "Um... Nah."

"You should try to sleep. The challenge you face tomorrow... I cannot imagine."

"I can," Ara whispers. "I've had this kind of night for years on end..." She could make her presence known, but as a former Aphrodite, hearing Lester make a fool of himself in front of a crush is far more entertaining. Also, Jimmy's voice is so nice and smooth that she could listen to it all day without a single thought in mind.

"Oh, I don't sleep much. I used to be a god, you know." Lester tries to flex. "And you? Are you a demigod?"

"An interesting word. I would say I am e·lo·mìíràn—one of the others. I am also a graduate accounting student at Indiana University."

Ara pauses at that, she didn't know he was old enough to have graduated, that means he's gotta be about the same age as Beckendorf if he and Silena had lived... the thought makes her a weird mix of happy and sorrowful.

"But Sssssarah said you worked for Commodus?" Lester continues. "You're a gladiator?"

"Not a gladiator. I only fight on weekends for money. Mixed martial arts. Gidigbo and Dambe."

"I don't know what those are."

A little laugh escapes Jimmy, though his chuckles are just as grave as his natural voice. "Most people don't. They are Nigerian martial-art forms. The first, Gidigbo, is a wrestling style of my people, the Yoruba. The other is a Hausa sport, more violent, but I like it."

"I see... You fight for money?"

"To pay my tuition. I did not know what I was getting into with this emperor person."

"And yet you survived... You can see that the world is, uh, much stranger than most mortals realize. You, Jimmy, must have lots of ìgboyà."

Jimmy laughs more, and Ara sees the reflection of Lester's soul light hitting Festus's surface. "Very good. My name is actually Olujime. For most Americans, Jimmy is easier."

"Well, Olujime. I'm pleased to meet you. We are lucky to have such a defender."

"Mmm. If we survive tomorrow, perhaps the Waystation can use an accountant. A piece of real estate so complex... there are many tax implications."

"Uh—"

"I am joking," he says, sounding amused. "My girlfriend says I joke too much."

Oh.

"Uh," Lester speaks, he sounds like he's about to throw up. "Your girlfriend. Yes. Will you excuse me?"

Ara hears his steps hurrying away and pulls herself out from Festus's ribcage, she looks up and finds Jimmy staring at the corner where Lester vanished with slight confusion. "You have to excuse my buddy," she speaks up, "he's acting like this whole thing isn't freaking him out, but he's barely holding on. A former god turned mortal, now that contains many tax implications, don't you think?"

Jimmy smiles in greeting. "General."

"I noticed you're not sleeping either," she pulls up one knee and leans on it, still holding a wrench in her hand. "Nervous?"

"Concerned," he admits. "For the well-being of this place. What you said today is true, it would be a pity to lose it, there aren't many spaces for people like us."

"People like us?" Ara raises a brow, but she's smiling. "But you and I are not quite the same, are we?"

"I asked that hunter about you, this Thalia Grace, and she seemed to know you well," he confesses. "All you've done for your people, the losses you've faced... We may not come from the same place, but you want what's best for everyone, and therefore I will follow you."

Ara's mind goes to something of less importance for the greater good, but far more pressing to her current situation. "You said you have a girlfriend?"

"She studies in Washington," Jimmy replies, his soul light a rich shade of jade.

"So long distance," Ara nods thoughtfully. "Can I ask you about her?"

The young man looks surprised that a girl like her is interested in his love life, but he agrees. Maybe Thalia mentioned she was born a daughter of love. "You can."

"What do you do when you miss her?" She asks, reaching for a dirty cloth to clean the stains off her wrench. "When nothing goes well, and she's far, and you can't reach her."

"I think of the good things," he responds, "good memories. Her laugh, our most recent call, or our dates."

"And when that's not enough?" She continues. "Like when Commodus locked you in that cell and you didn't know if you'd ever see her again, and you had no way to contact her. What was in your mind?"

Jimmy ponders. "On those days, I would simply talk to her in my head."

Ara stares at him. "But she didn't know you were doing that."

"She didn't know I was in danger either, so I was the only one who needed comfort," he replies wisely. "Sometimes looking after oneself is enough."

Ara lets out a scoff, looking down at her grimy hands. "I hear that a lot when people tell me what happiness is to them. Enough. They tell me they have enough friends, activities, or plans to keep them satisfied for a lifetime. I sit there thinking—what is enough? I've never had it."

"Is that why you became a General?"

"I wanted to prove others that I was capable of great things."

"And once you prove it, what is left for you?"

"That's still to be discovered," she gets up with a grunt. "But I've seen many people give everything for the safety of others, just like me..."

"And where are they now?"

"Dead."

"So when I steal it's bad, but when you steal it's all good?" Ara crosses her arms as she glares at the Mercedes Leo got for them.

"Hey, first of all, this isn't stolen, it's borrowed. You gotta bring it back within 24 hours or we're cooked. So you better avoid cops." He wraps his arms around her waist. "Second, it isn't free. It'll cost you five smooches."

Ara leans in, pressing five quick, gentle kisses on his lips while giggling. Lester clears his throat behind them before sliding into the car. "Better get going."

Meg fist-bumps Leo before sliding into the backseat. "Good luck."

"Yeah, you too. Look after my girl, won't you?"

"Yeah."

Leo kisses Ara's cheek and mumbles against it. "Pointless to ask you to be careful, huh?"

Ara moves away, giving him a look. "How about 'Come back on time to crush lame-old 'Modus butt'?"

He smirks, pulling her into a kiss one last time. "See you."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

[luckycharm1]

Il Capitano being a single father for his little daughter

A/N: I am writing this right after finishing 5.0 archon quest, so these are based on the little information I have on the character right now. However, if any major changes for his character will occur in the future, I might make an updated version for this. Also, this is my very first work and English is not my first language, so I already want apologise in advance if the quality of this post will not satisfy the readers.

Warnings: A somewhat absent father lol

When it comes to work, Capitano likes to keep it professional. Long distance trips to Mondstad or Natlan or any other region can be very tiring for a grown adult, let alone for a small child who can get easily bored by sitting in one place for long periods of time. His Harbinger duties not only include diplomatic meetings, but can also be related to something way more dangerous that can turn a quick simple meeting into a deadly battle zone. So do not expect him to bring his kid to missions, that is off the limits.

At first Capitano would leave his daughter at his Snezhnaya residence, where he would entrust experienced midwives to take care of her while he would be gone. However, as time goes on, his daughter eventually would grow into her toddler phase, which meant that now she wanted to explore the world around her and has become way more interested in her father, who frequently would leave for days or, at certain times, even weeks.

Capitano would keep his dedication and loyalty to the Tsaritsa the same level as it was before his daughters birth, even if it meant that he had to make his work a priority during the crucial early stages of his daughters life. However it does not mean that he never intended to fulfil his parental duties. Even when Capitano's workload increased, he tried his best to finish everything quickly and when he finally had the free time to spend it at home, he focused on giving all the attention to his little girl as much as he could.

Actually, Capitano would end up putting in lots of work to learn how to change her diapers, pick the right clothes, put her down for naps and even help her out when it came to exploring the outside area of their home. He completely understood the fact that his daughter would never be able to grow up with a mother, so he tried his best to focus on becoming a good father.

Eventually, his daughter would reach the age, where she refused to just stay curious about the work trips her father had, but she wanted to join them too. Although, all of her requests were quick to be denied, she never intended to give up on joining at least one of the missions Capitano had. That is when she started to try sneaking out the house to follow him to work. Of course, Capitano would immediately notice her and send her back home before she could manage to get herself in some type of danger.

As his daughters sneaky behavior continued, Capitano came to an understanding that the best way to keep her out of his work, would be to show her how dangerous it could get. To scare her. To make her not want to involve herself with this sort of danger again. Of course, he knew that with his strength alone he would be able to protect her with ease, yet it was his daughters excitement to join his missions and be able to fight together with him that he wished to be gone. He knew it was selfish, but he already had lost the person he loved the most before, he did not want to lose her in the future too.

Finally, the day he was waiting for had come. Capitano quickly noticed his daughter trailing behind his group of Fatui soldiers that were following him to a small patrol mission outside the city. Everyone, except her, were aware of that days mission, so as they reached the treasure hunter base and a heated discussion had begun, it was only a surprise for her when everything quickly escalated into a fight.

To Capitano the result of this battle was obvious, The Fatui would win, yet he extended the fight for a bit longer than usual so the event he was waiting for would certainly go in motion. After a mere minute a small scream came from behind him, it was his daughters. Only five seconds had passed before the treasure hunter, that managed to get a hold of his little girl, was laying on the ground, completely unconscious. He smiled to himself, however since he was wearing his mask she was not able to see it. But the reason why he was smiling was because he already had practiced the lecture he was ready to give her any second now, Capitano finally picked her up and came to face her and only to realise that....

His plan had failed. The result Capitano hoped for quickly turned into a complete opposite of what he had expected, as his daughter stared back at him with the most happiest face he had ever seen her have. Her eyes sparkled brighter than the goddamn Tevyat sky and her smile was wider than the Tartaglia's who usually got very excited when he got to walk next to him. It was now all clear to him. She would definitely not let him leave her alone anymore.

After that day she started to follow her father everywhere around the house. It took a while of her pleading to finally get her a wooden sword and start teaching her the beginning stages of swordsmanship. Although, he knew that she was his real daughter, Capitano was somewhat surprised when she would be able to learn everything so quickly. Additionally her strength surpassed the boys who were two or three years older than her. Finally, it was the moment when he realised that she had inherited his talent and the crazy passion for swordsmanship he had within him too.

When his daughter finally reached the age where he felt confident in her progress, Capitano introduced her to the Knave. He knew that, by leaving his daughter in Fontaine, she would be able to slowly get introduced to the Fatui and improve her fighting abilities by gaining her own experience in less dangerous environment than his missions were.

Of course his daughter was still a child and did not have the happiest reaction when she realised he would just start leaving her in a different nation and continue on with his own work without her, but with a simple explanation and some time, she held no resentment against her father. She knew that he would still keep on visiting her and check on her progress and maybe, just maybe, one day, he would finally see her reach the point from which she would finally be able to join him on his missions.

However Capitano knew that, as the first Fatui Harbinger, his missions were often the most difficult ones, so if his daughter wished to join him one day, she would have to keep working hard for many years. But as her father, he was ready to keep on supporting her, all the way throughout the path his daughter decided to follow, even if it meant that he would have to be absent for certain moments of it.

[nickeverdeen]

Hey, I was wondering if I could get TLOU2 headcanons of Ellie and air-headed reader from the previous request? Basically what happens to them after Joel tells the truth about the Fireflies.

I imagine that unlike Ellie, Reader forgives and understands why Joel did what he did, since she wouldn't want to live in a world where Ellie was dead, even if it was a virus-free one. And Reader values life, not wanting to sacrifice hers, she'd just like to keep being a family with Joel and Ellie. She believes it's what they deserve after everything they've gone through (as selfish as some might call her belief).

When Joel dies, Reader is devastated and angry, going with Ellie to hunt Abby down. However, midway through, when Reader realizes she and Ellie are just hurting people, and a kid is involved (Lev), she gives up the hunt and returns home. Reader realizes revenge isn't giving them closure, and no kids deserve to be traumatized like they were. However, Reader waits for Ellie even after they've parted ways, as some part of her hopes Ellie will come to her senses, and Reader will never give up on her best friend.

Sorry for the length, and thank you in advance!

Ellie and air-head reader part 2

Warning: cursing, death

—————

A few years later you and Ellie grew up properly a bit in Jackson

Your bond grew close to a sisterly one

Ellie often helped you navigate social situations, understanding your awkwardness

She’s your wingman, guiding you through interactions with others in Jackson

Your shared immunity makes you both feel like outsiders at times

You bond over these feelings, creating a unique understanding between you two

You and Ellie decide to share a living space

You train together, ensuring you’re both capable of defending yourselves

Ellie’s practical skills complement your imaginative strategies, making you a formidable team

When Joel reveals the truth about the Fireflies, both you and Ellie are in shock

Obviously you gotta calm Ellie down a bit as she has a breakdown

The weight of the revelation hits you hard, given the shared immunity

This shared secret deepens your bond with Ellie

You both spend hours talking about what it means and what could have been

Despite being socially awkward, your comforting presence becomes a rock for Ellie

Your relationship with Ellie deepens as you navigate the complex emotions brought on by Joel’s revelation

You’re her confidant, and she’s yours

It takes a few days, but replaying in your head Joel’s truth, you start understand and forgive him

You can’t imagine living in a world without Ellie and believe Joel did the right thing

You comfort Joel, reassuring him that his choice was justified

You stress the importance of staying together as a family

Your dreamy and optimistic outlook helps to calm Ellie during her moments of turmoil

You and Ellie, with Joel’s occasional involvement, engage in community activities in Jackson, contributing to the town’s well-being and fostering a sense of belonging

You often advocate for Ellie during social situations, understanding her conflicts and helping her navigate interactions with others a bit

Your presence becomes an emotional anchor for both Ellie and Joel

You balance Ellie’s need for answers and Joel’s protective instincts, providing a middle ground that helps maintain harmony in your “family”

Ellie: “How can you be so okay with this? With what Joel did?”

You: “Because I wouldn’t want to live in a world without you either, Ellie”

The news of Joel’s death shatters you

Your usual dreamy and optimistic demeanor crumbles as you struggle to process the loss

You have an emotional breakdown, crying in anguish

Ellie is there, but you both are lost in your own grief

Your devastation quickly turns to anger

You channel all your pain into a fierce determination to find Abby and make her pay for what she did

Despite your usual preference for peaceful solutions, you decide to join Ellie on her quest for vengeance

You know this journey is dangerous, but your shared grief and anger bond you even closer

You and Ellie prepare meticulously, gathering supplies and planning your route

Your usual creativity comes in handy as you devise strategies and backup plans for the journey ahead

Before leaving Jackson, you share emotional farewells with the few friends you’ve made in the community

The journey is tense

You and Ellie are driven by a shared purpose, but the weight of your grief often leads to quiet moments of reflection and occasional outbursts of emotion

You and Ellie support each other through the darkest moments

Your bond strengthens as you share memories of Joel and remind each other why you’re doing this

Your roles balance out – Ellie’s practicality and survival skills complement your creative thinking and optimism, even in the face of anger and revenge

As you encounter various obstacles and enemies, you struggle with your conscience

The violence necessary for survival clashes with your inherent love for life

In moments of doubt, you draw strength from your memories of Joel and your determination to honor his legacy by helping Ellie find closure

During quieter moments, you and Ellie have deep conversations by the campfire

Midway through the hunt, you come face-to-face with the reality of your actions

The sight of innocent people and a child, Lev, makes you question the path you’re on and face a moral dilemma

You’re torn between your desire for revenge and the realization that continuing what you’re doing does more hurt than good

Your instinct to protect kicks in, and you realize that no child deserves to be traumatized as you and Ellie were

This shifts your perspective on the hunt for revenge

You grapple with a deep moral conflict

Your sisterly love for Ellie and your need to honor Joel’s memory are at odds with the violence and trauma you’re perpetuating

You have a heartfelt conversation with Ellie, expressing your newfound beliefs

But that only makes an argument arise and some very hurtful things are said and done

Despite the bond you share, you decide to part ways

Partly ‘cause she kidna kicked you out

You hope Ellie will come to the same realization, but you understand she needs to find her own path

You promise Ellie that you’ll always be there for her, no matter what, but in smaller afekt she doesn’t give a fuck

The journey back to Jackson is lonely and filled with reflection

You think about Joel, Ellie, and the future you want to build

The community in Jackson welcomes you back with open arms

You dive into your creative outlets using music to cope

Despite the uncertainty, you hold onto the hope that Ellie will come to her senses and return home

You never give up on her

You develop a routine of waiting for Ellie, often spending time at places you both frequented

Each day, you hope to see her return

You become deeply involved in helping the community, using your experiences to counsel others who’ve faced trauma

Your empathetic nature makes you a trusted confidant

You create a smaller memorial for Joel in Jackson, a place where you and others can honor his memory

Your theatre performances become popular in Jackson, helping others find solace and just turn off from worries

Your songs and paintings often reflect your journey and your hope for Ellie’s return

You write letters to Ellie, even if you can’t send them

The journey and your decision to return home foster significant personal growth

Everyday you check a book where a person’s name is written when they come back to Jackson to see if “Ellie Williams” or “Ellie Miller” isn’t there

[moonmaidensblessing]

I love Mystra as a character 100% she is an interesting character and I adore a morally questionable woman with my whole heart in fiction but I’m trying to get why ppl get so up in arms about her. The concept of a god having a relationship with a mortal is nothing new; I wrote a paper last semester comparing Gale to Odysseus from the Odyssey for the very reason they both had relationships with goddesses. It’s an age old situation in storytelling and it’s not going anywhere.

I want to posit the idea that Gale’s specific dynamic with Mystra is meant to say more about his character than her, though, since he’s a major character. His relationship with her is meant to tell us how powerful he is as a magic-wielder and his connection with it is beyond what the average magic user could ever dream of (looking at you, Rolan). He is written in a way where his hubris could easily lead him down a bad path as it had done several times for him already. He is messing with things beyond his scope, though, as he learns more and gains more power. A line I always feel people ignore is the one where he admits Mystra gave him a boundary, appropriately seeing what it was (Netherese magic that had almost killed her before), and tend to majorly focus on the fact that she asks him to sacrifice himself with that same dangerous magic. I mean, i can see a perspective that she sees Gale as potentially dangerous since he disregards her request ultimately for his own purposes. Keep in mind that he not only has the parasite, but the orb would not be kept docile forever. He became dangerous not only to himself but to anyone unfortunate enough to be too close should something happen. He poses an immense threat after crossing Mystra’s boundary (his exact words in the game) to Faerûn, the Weave itself, etc.

Does this make Gale evil? No. He had the potential to be misguided, though, in the story, and I think that’s the writers’ point was how easy it can be to fall from might and grace with a few bad choices.

To be frank, the dynamic between Gale and Mystra is already at a power imbalance. It isn’t like the other characters’ relationships with their respective gods because they do not have a romantic/sexual relationship with them. That is a curious distinction, which would lend to it being an unusual practice in the pantheon of the gods. However, not in the world of literature, I reiterate. Odysseus has intimate encounters with several goddesses in his journey, but the power dynamic is written a lot differently than how Mystra and Gale are written.

If it is not common practice for the gods to have intimate interactions with mortals, then it stands to reason that it is a discouraged practice among them. We hear a line in the game where Gale says Ao would not permit Mystra to interfere with their quest directly, and it makes me believe there are rules for the gods when it comes to behavior and actions. For some reason, Mystra is permitted to have romantic relationships with her worshippers, and I have to wonder why that is. Apparently it isn’t common for her to pick someone, either, as she only chooses the most powerful magic users, her chosen ones. And that’s where we start to run into the power imbalances.

In a way, Gale seeks the missing magic for Mystra to feel equal to her, a dynamic that would never change no matter what he did. Who is really to blame? The one who wasn’t content in his role, or the god who appointed him to that role in the first place? Was Mystra trying to influence Gale to stop him reaching beyond mortal limitations, fearing (for him or perhaps herself even) that he would go too far one day just like Karsus before him? Did she have valid reasons to fear for herself and the world of magic, or was it a selfish act borne out of fear of losing control of her realm and devotees? I don’t think people are thinking this deeply about it.

I think why it bugs me in a way that kids keep giving her the “bitchy mean girl” treatment is because it sort of cheapens the intent of the characters and what its supposed to mean to the story. I mean It’s funny but I cannot look at a single piece of fan art online that features her without 15 ppl all unironically claiming acts of violence against a video game character. I guess its ultimately harmless, and it’s good they are able to recognize the harm that is present there, but it feels like a simple, immature take just all on its own.

Oh and I definitely hate the take that Mystra groomed him. That makes me pretty sick, and it isn’t a one to one comparison at all. I sincerely doubt that was the writers intention at all, and as someone who was it makes me pretty mad to see. But I understand since most of those saying it are most likely children who don’t have a full grasp of it. Grooming is intentionally selecting a person with little to no agency, usually a child, and trying to influence them into inappropriate situations. I feel like comparing that dynamic to grooming demeans and lessens the importance of it in real life. Gale was not a child, he has agency in his life, and it’s cheapening even to the character to imply he had no control over what was happening to him. Unless I’m missing some crucial piece of lore here, I don’t think Mystra picked Gale as her chosen and romantic partner to make him find Karsus’ tome and unleash the magic that nearly killed her and destroyed all magic.

I get it, though, why young people jump to that conclusion. Again, I’m glad that they see the surface level issue. I’m glad they can recognize danger and harm. That’s good. I’d never discourage someone, especially children, in being vigilant with those sorts of things.

And of course all this said not so much in defense of Mystra (though I love her as a character) but more in defense of the people who wrote it. This game is so well written and it’s one of the reasons why I love it so much. The fact that I CAN write an essay for class about it makes me over the moon and goes to show just how much depth and meaning is present.

[for-your-comfort]

Hi! I hope you're still taking requests, but can I request a Knuckle Bine x hunter!Reader fic?

Reader is also one of Morel's apprentices and she participates in the fight against the Chimera Ants at the palace. But she's also secretly in love with Knuckle (he's oblivious) and she decides to confess to him in the spur of the moment mid palace infiltration. They just have this little "we might be dead by tomorrow so fuck this" moment, and confess to eachother and kiss desperately before getting back to fighting the Royal Guards. I live for life or death romantic situations and angsty/fluffy moments 😭

I love your writing so I hope I'm not bothering you! Kisses :)

Now or Never

Knuckle x Reader

a/n: i’m sorry this isn’t really what you asked for, i changed it a little to adapt to my current knowledge of HXH since i don’t want to do the chimera ant arc any injustice by putting an unfitting scene in.

summary: you’ve been sent on a dangerous quest with Knuckle and Shoot, and find yourself doubting whether you will even make it out alive. what better moment to confess your feelings?

warnings: injuries + blood loss (no graphic descriptions), bit of angst (but also comfort)

word count: 1603

A moment you feel most vulnerable in… Like your entire world is crashing down, and you’re so helpless, because there is absolutely nothing you can do.

What do you do at this moment? When you’re aware of how fast your thoughts are racing, as if competing with your pounding heartbeat in your ears. And yet still none of those thoughts are helpful, they’re nothing but mere, fleeting ideas passing through. Nothing you need, nothing to save you, nor the person next to you.

Your hiding spot is behind a few boxes, and so far they’ve been a good place to not be found. You listen carefully for anything suspicious, yet all you can hear is your own heartbeat, the irregular breaths of your friend, and the shuffling steps that must belong to the beast. You’re lucky to have limited it’s hearing and smelling senses during the earlier fight, or else you would surely already have been found. And given the circumstances, there’s no guarantee you’d make it.

You put a hand on the ground to steady yourself, and wince in pain when your palm touches the dirty ground. There’s a cut across your hand, that you hadn’t noticed up until now. You will have to clean the wound later and make sure it isn’t infected, if you make it out of this situation alive, that is.

“What is it?”

A hushed voice, barely even a whisper, is heard from beside you. You clutch your hand into a fist as your eyes meet Knuckle’s and guilt washes over you. Isn’t it so selfish to think of your own injury, when the person you cherish most is in much worse shape?

Your eyes linger on Knuckle’s once-white jacket that is all soaked up with blood, and just imagining where it’s coming from makes you tear up once again. He must be in so much pain.

Yet, nobody could have predicted this. Not Morel, when he sent Shoot, Knuckle and you out on a casual bounty hunt for a monster that has turned out to be a bite much bigger than the three of you can chew.

Not Shoot, who had agreed to it without a second thought after seeing the nods of Knuckle and you, who is now nowhere to be seen, ever since you lost sight of him somewhen during the fight before.

And certainly not Knuckle, who has overexerted himself, and gotten this beat up. His usual so energetic self is now slumped against a wooden box, sitting on the floor to your left. The sight breaks your heart over and over again.

“Hm?”

He asks again, and you can tell he’s getting weaker. How much blood has he lost? How much more can he hold on?

You can no longer hold back the tears now silently trickling down your cheeks. You can’t even remember the last time you felt like this, so at the mercy of fate’s cruelty as you couldn’t do anything but sit and wait for the inevitable end, since the two of you can’t possibly hide forever.

You get lost in the features of Knuckle, the deep lines on his face and his furrowed eyebrows. His usually so bold mouth, with lips that have their corners turned downwards now.

His big hands have always seemed so strong and secure, and even at this moment you long for nothing more than to feel them around you, and wake up to find all of this to be just a horrible nightmare. But his hands are tightly clutching the side of his stomach, and you know he’s trying to stop, or at least slow, the bleeding.

A tiny part of you hopes Shoot escaped and is seeking help in the nearest city, however you know very well that it’s hard to access, and even at your usual pace, at least an hour away. By now, that hope for help has pretty much died out.

You make another feeble attempt to use your nen ability, but the presence of the beast is still blocking it out.

You tightly clutch one hand within the other and press your eyes shut, before you feel a rough hand gently wipe your tears.

“Why are you crying?”

You shake your head as you look at Knuckle, and even more tears pour down your face and cheeks, some getting caught in Knuckle's calloused fingers, others spilling down to your clenched hands. But you will not speak. You will buy Knuckle, and yourself, as much time as possible. You will not make one single sound, that could betray your location to the beast. At least, that’s your plan.

As if having read your thoughts, Knuckle goes silent for a moment. He musters you with that look again, that one he gives you whenever you do something he disapproves of, or doesn’t understand.

“Once all this is over and we’re back home tomorrow, I’ll make Shoot and you those dumplings again. I know you mock and criticise my cooking, but it will be the best dumplings of your life-“

You interrupt him with a push against his arm, and he lets it drop to the ground with no resistance. He expected this.

“How can you say that!?” You hiss at him, “Don’t you understand? We might be dead by tomorrow!”

The salty tears rush down your cheeks even quicker as you angrily glare at Knuckle, still trying your hardest to be as quiet as possible.

A soft sigh escapes Knuckle as he reaches an arm out towards you, and gently pulls you into his mostly uninjured side. You simply let it happen, and close your eyes upon impact with his shoulder as you carefully snake an arm around his waist, the other wrapping around his other shoulder.

You can hear him taking a breath to say something, but nothing more than a quiet sob rips through the silence. You instantly pull away to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“You don’t deserve this. Any of this. I failed you.”

His voice is so quiet.

You shake your head and hug him tightly once again, this time with his face buried in your shoulder. You gently brush through his hair with your fingers to soothe him, as you lean in to whisper in his ear.

“You could never fail me. You did all you could, we both did. Then this is just how it has to happen.”

He lets out another sob as he clings onto you, his tears slowly soaking through your shirt.

You hold him tightly, silently crying into his hair. This is honestly the last moment you’d expect to be in when you would get to hold him like this for the first time, but given the circumstances, now there might not be any other moment for this in the future…

“I have feelings for you,” you start, “I have had them for a while now. I guess this might be the last time I get to tell you.”

At once, his eyes are on you, wide and startled, but not in a negative way. You’re happy to see some of his usual energy to be back, even if only for the moment, and that twinkle in his eyes you love so dearly has returned.

You can’t help but reach out to brush your hand through his hair again, your fingers tangling in his curls and getting stuck in the pompadour. Instantly, it seems like Knuckle is melting at your touch like soft butter in the sun. A warm feeling spreads inside your chest at this reaction, as if you swallowed the sun yourself.

“I had no idea… Why didn’t you say anything sooner? No, wait- aaaaaah! I should have said something!”

You cover his mouth with your hand, looking left and right, listening hard, in fears that his whisper-shouts gave away your location. You’re not out of danger, how could you be so reckless? But there’s not a single thing you hear, and you slowly remove your hand.

As you do, even Knuckle seems to sigh out in relief before you feel a calloused hand on your cheek, and Knuckle’s warm breath on your chin before your lips meet.

You sit there, frozen in shock, yet only for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, your hands desperately grasping at his clothes for some stability, even when you know you must be the strong one in a situation where he is injured.

You two don’t let go of each other, neither of you daring to break the kiss. This wonderful, soft kiss.

His lips are chapped and dry, and you imagine yours aren’t any better. But still, you couldn’t imagine your first kiss to be any more perfect. For while you’re here, there’s no danger. There’s no beast out there to get you, no wound in your palm to burn in pain as you clench fistfuls of Knuckle’s shirt, and no pools of blood seeping through the same once-white shirt.

Right now, this might not even be the last kiss.

“There you are. I could hear you whispering.”

Both Knuckle and you snap your heads towards the source of the voice. And you see Shoot, looking at you with a warm smile.

You first worry that the beast might hear you, but knowing Shoot, he would never be so careless. The beast must already be disposed of. You two are safe. Knuckle will be okay, and you will make sure of that. You look at him, and the look on his face tells you that he has drawn the same conclusions as you.

“Let’s go home.”