#ruby continues to suffer

[amelia-yap]

Ruby: No arson. Meanwhile Blake and Yang: ARSON IS BADASS!!

reminds me of this thing i did a long time ago lol

[hypnagogics]

heh.. okay, so you asked for different.. rubs hands together villaniously as i materialize from the bottomless shadows..

sub!vampire!ellie biting/bloodsucking denial.. reminding her how much of a good girl she needs to be even when your wrist is practically just brushing past her lips to cradle her face.. or when the weakest bead of blood is pricked from your finger.. flaunting it.. teasing.. goddess bless throw in whatever else you see fit freakmaster

TEMPTATION WAITS

before you read! ▪︎ my masterlist ☆: co-president...this is absolutely divine...shoulda seen the way i dropped everything for this im literally #TWEAKING. new fav thing i've ever written methinks. title song. (vibes aren't there but the title was too good.) ps: if you spot any typos i wrote this with one hand. KIDDING...or am i? divider creds—cafekitsune. ◇: not outright smut, but still suggestive!! and nsfw is described. fluffy end bc i think she earned it, lore sprinkled in because why nawt it's interesting, finger sucking (e! receiving), this is maybe a lil ooc idrc, she's described as looking quite ill in her vampiric form + begs like her century long life depends on it fr, (but also has a bit of an attitude, it issss ellie after all), mean!r, talk of blood/previous bite wounds. ++ 3.3k wc. doesn't need to be that long but atp? take it or leave it LOLL. filing under "oneshots" bc it's way more than usual reqs hehe.

“Please, baby. Just one taste. I'll do anything.” Desperate, shaky pleas spilled from Ellie, her voice noticeably tired from the effort. She's been at this for what felt like forever now, and you were getting tired of ignoring her. Or rather, a little bored.

She was kneeling on the wooden floor by your bed, fisting the creased sheets, trying to capture your attention. The shimmering moonlight was dancing on her features as if it was a sparkle of fireflies, making her oddly colored eyes appear to glow, and highlighting her sickly appearance.

In her vampiric form, her skin was tinted a ghostly—even chalky—white, barely a smidgen of blush dancing on the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes shifted from their original grassy green to a peculiar duochrome blend of emerald and ruby. She really looked unwell, but you knew it was merely a product of circumstance, her gloomy fate.

Ellie donned somber dark circles around her eyes, her lips withered, pale, and thin as a piece of tissue paper. Just behind them though, rested two deadly weapons of her very own—sizeable, razor-sharp, gleaming ivory canines reflecting the scarce lighting as if they were made of mirrored glass.

For the first time tonight, you met her gaze, assuming an unbreakable poker face. Her keen sight could pick out the most subtle of twitches, so you learned to defeat that. The moment you met her line of sight she perked up, her eyes widening in glee, you had finally acknowledged her existence after so long.

Scooting forward you placed yourself right in front of her still kneeling form, sitting so she was in between your legs, but she wasn't allowed to touch you until you said so. What torture.

She began again, “Can I do something to make you change your mind? I'll do anything. Anything in the world. I'll make you feel re-really good, and then I won't ask again…ever even, if that's what you want. Just please let me…I'm so thirsty.” She was rambling a million miles a minute, slurring her words and cutting herself off with hiccups, stuttering like was having a nervous breakdown.

Her chest heaving up and down was visible to you despite the dim surroundings, and you could just make out her facial expression—a pained grimace, as if she was experiencing all of humanity's greatest suffering. When you didn't reply but stayed observing her blankly, she sighed and hung her head in shame, you almost felt bad. Almost.

You extend a hand, twirling a strand of her hair—previously silky and vibrant, now as lifeless and dull as charred hay—and you feel her relax under your touch. You continue raking your fingers through her locks, scratching her scalp with your nails, and you hear her exhale forcefully. She's likely overwhelmed by your scent—it's invigorating, fresh, and full of life.

“Have you been good?” You pipe up with a voice colder than ice, softly caressing the flesh of her tense cheek, and letting your fingertips travel to the underside of her chin. You gently tilt her head up, noticing the way her eyelids flutter to a close. She's soaking up the heat radiating off of you, making sure to feel the sensations of your skin brush against hers as much as she can, commit them to memory for when she's apart from you.

Her lips part, allowing for hushed, woeful whimpers to pour out, and she instinctively bites her bottom lip to quiet herself. Only she forgets about the powerful daggers in her mouth, and almost pierces right through her own skin.

Taking notice, you tut at her, warning clicks of your tongue bouncing off the room’s walls, contrasting the dead of night’s eerie silence. Tsk, tsk, tsk. You push the pad of your thumb down on the plush of her lip, angling her jaw side to side, examining those killer gnashers she's got.

“You could hurt yourself with these y'know, be careful.” Her eyelids flicker open, she's staring up at you with the biggest doe eyes she could muster, somehow all while maintaining such a strong glare you feel as if she's trying to challenge you.

“I'll decide if you can have some, as long as you're good, and you let me have some fun first. Alright?” You explain in a neutral tone, earning a cute “mhm” of confirmation from the undead being before you. “Good girl.”

You slowly slip your thumb into her mouth, avoiding her fangs at all costs, and you let her wrap her slippery tongue around your digit, watching how her cheeks hollow and her eyes roll ever so slightly while she sucks, moaning as she takes in your taste—nothing more than just skin.

You chuckle at her desperation, revel in the power dynamic you have created. “Mmm, you taste so good, so sweet.” She mumbles, swirling her tongue around your thumb, coating the entirety of it in her spit. You allow it for now, but soon enough, to no surprise, she slyly tries to shift to the side in preparation to slice you and get her treat.

You sharply retract your hands from her, removing your finger from her mouth with a pop, disappointed by her greed, her audacity. She turns to the side and pouts, huffing and rolling her eyes with more attitude than a moody teen. “What did I say?” You calmly hiss at her. She whispers, almost inaudibly, “Sorry…taste so good, can't help m’self.” Her voice wavered, and the moonlight illuminated the faintest tinge of red across her features, it was nearly invisible.

But you could tell exactly what was up. She shifts uncomfortably in her spot, grunting with laughable, pitiful attempts to rub her thighs together, fingers toying with the cloth of her pants, putting her frustration on full display. You looked at her struggle, unable to contain your grin.

It was a different kind of high, seeing such a feared and fabled beast kneel before you in such a pathetic manner, but it turned you on like nothing else. It was also evident she enjoyed it as well, no matter how much she didn't want you to be aware of the fact. The extent to which she worships you and handles your body, the way she was willing to beg and let you order her around showed just how much you meant to her—it was beautiful in its own way, how devoted she was to you. You were her person.

The fact she couldn't stifle her desire anymore after all this time suggested a shift in the atmosphere of your wicked games, the tension in the air was getting impossibly thicker, and you were loving every second of it.

Ellie, you've got a short memory.” You tease, then gesture to the gauze wrapped around your forearm, protecting two puncture wounds left by none other than her just the previous night. She looks at it and cocks an eyebrow, grouching, “Yeah, I see that, what about it?” The husky edge to her voice had returned, the defiant attitude you loved to crack was back in full force.

“Hundreds of years old, you even have memories of wars, and you can't remember what happened, like, 24 hours ago? Wow…” Your voice is so patronizing, it's unpleasant and abrasive on the ears, even your own. She shrugs her shoulders, still kneeling on the cold, hard ground at your mercy. “Well let's have a refresher then, shall we?” Tearing the tan-colored bandage apart with a single rip, you reveal the puncture marks—they were still wet and irritated, the wounds reopening immediately at the slightest movement.

Ellie whines like an animal, a crude “ahh”, and she starts pleading harder than ever. “Please, baby, my pretty, my angel, please, please, pleasepleaseplease, just lemme have a drop, just one. That's all, I swear.” Her gaze darkens exponentially, if you didn't know her it would instill fear in your heart, but luckily you were well aware of all her tricks. She snarls, “Fuck you. I'm literally on my fucking knees right now. Why are you doing this?” Her voice breaks angrily, wobbling with great lust and need—the need to have you, the need to drink you and fondle you and taste you in all senses of the word, and at this point she didn't seem to care about preserving a morsel of her dignity, she was simply so drunk on you, you couldn't believe.

You reiterate the previously established explanation, “We have an agreement that says you're allowed to take my blood once a month, so you can have some more each time. Rather than taking a little bit but more often, you requested this yourself. And you already drank lots yesterday. Does that not ring a bell?”

She groans, a gravelly, guttural sound that had you coming back to your senses and realizing, this was technically, a monster who you loved so dearly.

It led you to wonder—to her kind, what was so special about the liquid coursing through your veins?

When you split your lip open as a kid, clumsily tumbling face-first onto the asphalt, or bit your tongue while eating something stubborn, the strange, metallic taste was purely disgusting. It had a certain heaviness to it, both physically with the way it sat in your mouth, but also mentally. Like a subconscious awareness you were not meant to consume it like she does, but to spit it out the millisecond it made contact with your taste buds. There were times where the thought made you queasy, the measly knowledge of just how much of this fluid was inside you, keeping you alive.

But to her, it was a completely different story. She lapped it up with such fervor, such thirst you've never seen before. A sloppy frenzy like there wasn't a single thing more delightfully flavorful.

Her teeth penetrating all the way through your epidermis, dermis, and hypodermis, and straight through the vein wall was a feeling you're likely never going to get used to. It stung, it really did, and you were quick to get all woozy from the blood volume loss, but Ellie knew your limits—even though hers were not even close. Her thirst was insatiable.

The intimacy of the act was a whole separate topic to think about too. It was such an erotic experience, and when probed about it she argues it's better than sex, somehow. When she drinks from you, Ellie is really messy with it, you noticed. Blood dribbles down her chin and stains her lips as if it's a designer lip oil, the distinct deep maroon color sometimes appearing clownish and too intense against her fair complexion.

She was really handsy as well, and you weren't sure if it was purposeful, but you didn't care to ask because you didn't really mind in the first place. It felt nice. Her muscular hands tend to trace your waist as she's suckling, hovering by your ass, and traveling north to knead the supple tissue of your breasts.

And how could you forget about the sheer proximity of it all, even when having sex normally, it didn't feel nearly as intimate or vulnerable as this. Her body would be tightly curled around yours, she couldn't bear to have one meager square inch of her not touching you.

When she drank from your neck, it was bordering on heavenly, you had to be honest with yourself. There was something about the combination of the light headed, dizzying feeling it brought you, her closeness, the licking sensations, and the hungry sounds she produced that all together mixed to form nothing short of a mind blowing, intoxicating concoction.

When you both were feeling it, she'd be able to draw breathy moans to fall from your lips, and would giggle into your skin before sucking harder, leaving bruised marks surrounding the punctures. You read in some folklore that vampires carried a sort of aphrodisiac in their fangs, or was it their saliva? Again, you didn't really know all the details, but the sessions made you both yearn for each other in a way that felt taboo to discuss—midnight feedings often turning into animalistic fucking, sometimes even simultaneously.

Like having Ellie latched onto the side of your neck while she grinds her dripping pussy onto yours, her pleasureful mewls filling your ears, or having her hold your wrist to her mouth while her other hand is pleasuring you into oblivion, prodding against your spongy walls, making your head spin.

The time you spent lost in thought, she had broken the rule of not touching you unless you said so, but all she had done was rest her head on your knee, zoning out, sulking like an injured puppy. Unfortunately for her, you weren't done torturing her just yet. You didn't move her off of you, she was just laying there, grumbling curses under her breath, saying how mean you were, how much she despised you and everything you stood for, although both of you knew the truth—she had said herself, “I've never tasted blood like yours,” and you felt intrinsically bound to her on a subconscious level, these were mere amusements you indulged in, that ended up beneficial for both.

She got her delicious elixir of life, at the cost of you having your way with her for a bit. You hear her sniffle, the little defenseless sound of defeat was able to break your act.

You resume stroking her hair, and she wraps trembling arms around your thigh. “Hmm?” You coo, putting on a sweet facade. “Don't talk to me like that, c'mon man.” She wails, the attempts to regain control over her voice proving unsuccessful.

You took your nails to the newly formed raspberry scabs on top of your bite wounds and picked them off, and she lunges to grab your arm with inhuman reflexes, but once again you emerge on top, having spent so much time memorizing every last one of her behavioral patterns, so much so you knew exactly how she was going to attempt catching you and moved out the way without thinking about it.

“Too slow, you've gotten predictable.” You ridicule her, embellishing your voice with the most fake, sickly sweet tone you could just to irritate her as much as you possibly could. Ellie lays her head on your thigh, sighing. It's like she's given everything up. Her own patience was running out, potentially entering unpredictable territory now.

You squeeze the sides of the hole in your skin to coax a bubble of bright red blood to ooze out, marveling, “It's such a nice color, I see why you like it so much.” You talk to her coolly, ignoring her tearful, yet terrifyingly rage-filled glares, her massive fangs bared as if you were a prey animal she caught herself and was preparing to rip apart.

“Want a taste, Ellie? Have you earned it?” You think out loud, comically tapping your chin to exaggerate the brainstorming act. “Whatever, it's not like I have anything left to say to you.” She sounded heartbroken, you've never seen someone have such sorrow, the sheer misery behind her eyes actually caught you off guard.

"Okay I think you have earned it, just need you to say one more thing.” She nods, a little too quickly, rushing to catch any tears that were planning an escape route down the sides of her pretty face. You cradle her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin, “Aw, baby, don't cry.” This time however, your tone is sincere.

She doesn't wait for your request, and starts all over again, this is getting old. “I promise everything. I'll make you feel so good, I'll give you whatever you want, please …you're too sweet.” She huffs, “Well, except when you're not.”

She continues mumbling, burying her face in the meat of your thigh, occasionally stopping to lovingly peck where she was laying, quiet smooching sounds. That really melted your heart, you were ready to give her what she needs after so much cruelty. This went on much longer than you had planned, but you were having fun with it. So you decided to abandon whatever you would ask of her. But could anyone blame you?

She slowly reaches for your wounded arm, gauging your reactions, like in the situation you were planning to do something to prevent her, but you come up with a better idea. “I'll do you one even better, Els.” The grin that envelops her face could light up a thousand suns, and melt the coldest of souls. Make vampire hunters quit their careers even, that's how adorable she could be, on the occasion.

You lean back to take your shirt off in one swift motion, and lay back on the edge of the bed, tilting your neck to give her access to the sweet pulsating spot, finding the droplet of drool that falls from her agape mouth utterly hilarious. “Go ahead, I've had my fun.” She hesitates. “But our agreement, I don't wanna hurt you.” “Ellie it's fine, unless you don't want t-” “No I do I do, oh thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you so muchhhh.”

Her gratitude is silly, she's straddling you and kissing all over your neck, face, and collarbones with such care, and you inhale sharply once you feel the familiar sensation of her teeth piercing your sensitive skin.

She has one hand on the nape of your neck, holding you close to her so you couldn't move away, and the other one finds your fingers to intertwine with hers, loud gulping noises filling the room as she messily laps up all that flows from you.

Her bony hips are sat atop your pelvis, and soon enough you feel her start absentmindedly rocking back and forth on you, your breath hitching. You hold her waist to ground yourself, and aid her. She's whispering, mostly to herself, “Fuck that's so fucking good, needed this so bad, need you, fuck- shit. Ah, yes.”

The vertiginous feeling swirls in your head and you feel yourself fading, your grip on her sides loosening, but you don't feel one single ounce of panic, because you know she's got you. No matter what, until the end of time. Or at the very least, until the final bells tolled and you were lowered to your eternal resting place six feet underground.

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[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

By Your Side Always

Summary: You comfort Astarion after he breaks down due to your near-death experience.

The last thing you feel before the ground hits you is a burning hot pain in your stomach where a sword had run you through, your mouth opening in a small ‘oh’. The last thing you hear is a familiar voice screaming out your name, filled with anxiety and fear. The last thing you think about is how Astarion would react when he saw your body. Would he mourn? Would he continue on with his life as though nothing had happened? You hoped that he would find the strength to carry on and become his own person, unafraid of others. With the last of your strength, you try to search for his face, wanting to see the vampire you had fallen hard for one last time, but darkness claims you before your eyes can lock with his.

“Y/N!”

The first thing you feel when you wake up is the coldness of someone’s hand tightly wrapped around yours. The first thing you hear is the soft whisper of his voice telling you that you’re safe, that he’s right here with you, sending waves of reassurance through you. The first thing you think about is whether you’re in heaven or hell, but that wouldn’t make sense since Astarion was here. You were pretty sure you died or something when that sword ran you through.

“Y/N.” You look up into ruby red eyes filled with concern.

“Star.” The word catches in your dry throat, sending you into a coughing fit. Astarion quickly hands you some water and makes sure you finish it all before speaking again.

“Where are we?” You rasp.

“At camp, darling. Don’t you worry,” he presses a quick kiss to your forehead.

“The goblins –”

“All take care of, dearest!” He chirps, far too chipper for your liking.

“Astarion, what happened to me?” The smile falls from his face, ruby red eyes downcast. He stares at the bedroll you’re lying on, playing with the cloth of his tunic before looking back up at you, his smile no longer reaching his eyes.

“Nothing Shadowheart couldn’t fix.” The smile is plastered to his face, a facade perfected over the course of almost 200 years but you see right through it immediately.

“Did I die?” You decide to go straight to the point.

“Well, I don’t believe I’m dead dead so I doubt you’d be seeing me if you were in the afterlife,” he gives a hollow laugh.

“Astarion,” you frown. “You don’t have to fake anything around me, I won’t hurt you.”

His face falls, his genuine feelings shining through at your words and you automatically reach out but he pulls away to compose himself. He fears he will simply break down if you were to hold him right there and then, giving you more problems. He’s on the cusp of baring himself to you, and the very thought scares him. He searches your face, looking for signs that you will tear him down after he’s shown how vulnerable he is but as per usual, finds nothing. The nagging voice in his head, however, says otherwise and he’s torn between trusting you and trusting that voice.

“If it’s too much for you, you don’t have to say anything. I’m just worried about you bottling it all up, I don’t want to see you suffer.” You force yourself to sit up despite the sharp pain the action brings, schooling your face to ensure Astarion doesn’t notice the pain you’re feeling. He’s already struggling with his own emotions, you don’t want to add to his burden.

“I thought you were dead.” The words leave his lips in a whisper. “I was afraid, far more afraid than I’ve ever been. Your barely conscious body scared me far more than Cazador ever could. You were lying so still with that damn sword sticking out of you and all I could do was wish that you were still alive, still breathing as Shadowheart did everything she could to heal you.”

He squeezes your hand so tightly it begins to hurt, his bottom lip trembles and he bites down on it to stop the trembling. Astarion can feel tears pricking at the edges of his eyes, a lump swelling in his throat that he tries to choke down.

“Didn’t work for me,” you grin, pressing a kiss to his tear-stained cheek. “I’m right here, alive, and the goblin who tried to kill me is dead.”

He clutches at your sleeve, desperately hugging you as he inhales your scent and feels the warmth of your skin against his. You’re here, alive, warm. Your heart is beating, a steady thrum in your chest that fills his ears and reassures him that you’re safe.

“I’m sorry,” he presses his forehead against yours, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left your side, I should have been faster, I should have seen the attack coming.”

“I failed you.”

He shrinks at his words, body tensing up. Sharp nails dig into his palms as terror floods his mind. He failed you. You’d punish him for it, kick him out of the party, leave him to fend for himself. He can’t bear the thought of leaving your side, he can’t envision a future where you’re not there, lying right next to him as you hold him in your embrace. He doesn’t want to.

“My star,” you murmur, reaching out to wrap him in your arms despite the twinge of pain in your chest. You can feel him shaking and your heart shatters, an ache that is replaced by a wave of anger at Cazador for what he did to your lover. You nuzzle into his soft silver hair, pulling him close so that you can tuck him in your embrace. The pain from your stab wound is nothing, not when your beloved so clearly needs you right now.

“You didn’t fail me. I’m alive, you killed the goblin who attacked me, and you’re right here, by my side. That’s all I need.” Pressing your lips against the top of his head, you gently rub circles on his back all whilst cuddling him. He leans into your touch, gripping your shirt and curls against you, biting back his sobs. He’s supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around and yet here he is, getting all emotional while you console him.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you whisper, pressing comforting kisses all over his face. “I promise, I won’t leave or abandon you. You’ll always have a place with me.”

“You…mean it?” He hates how pathetic he sounds but the soft look in your eyes eases some of his worries. You look at him with such genuine love and care, eyes devoid of the lust he’s used to seeing in the prey he brought back for Cazador and devoid of the malice Cazador’s eyes always held. Your every touch is filled with gentleness and warmth, flooding him with a nice feeling he can’t quite describe, he only knows he can never get enough of it.

“Of course, Astarion. You’re my star, I’ll get lost without you.” If your younger self could see you right now, they would never believe their eyes. It wasn’t long ago when you would do anything to avoid physical contact, hissing whenever anyone brushed against you, even if by accident, and yet here you were, initiating a hug so tight that Astarion would have suffocated should he have needed to breathe.

Astarion squeezes his eyes shut, imprinting the feeling of your arms around him in his mind. He feels safe, loved, needed in your embrace.

“Promise me,” he chokes. “Promise me you’ll never put yourself in such danger again, innocents be damned. I don’t care what happens to anyone else, I just need you to be safe.”

“Then I’ll need you to continue fighting by my side to guard my back, don’t I?” You run your fingers through his hair, admiring how soft it is despite its owner clearly not having taken care of it in a good while.

“I suppose you do. After all, what will you ever do without me?” A hint of confidence floods back into him, a small smile playing on his lips. He gives you a grateful look, undead heart soaring at your declaration of your need for him.

“Hmm, I don’t ever want to find that out,” you give him a peck on the lips, “but I would like my star to at least clean himself up before cuddling with me any further.”

“Anything for my love,” he happily nuzzles you. “I’ll see you in a bit, Shadowheart should be here any time now to check up on you. After that I’m all yours.”

“And I’m all yours too,” you smile. “Now go.”

With one last kiss, he reluctantly leaves your side and you let out a sigh of relief. He was dealing with your near-death experience rather well considering how new he was to having someone to call his own.

“No more martyring then,” you chuckle to yourself, “not when there’s someone who cares so deeply about me.”

[dilfartist]

Just obsessed or love obsessed?

Tw; Kidnapping, sensitive topics, Yandere behavior, Obsessive behavior, marriage mentions, abuse, physical abuse, mentions of Suicide on Yoosung’s part, mentions of death, NSFW on the end of Asmodeus’s part,

Which yanderes are actually in love with their darlings? Which yanderes simply obsess over their darlings?

Fandoms: Naruto, JJK, Demon Slayer, Death Note, JJBA, Chainsaw Man, Baruto, Obey Me, and Mystic Messenger.

Characters; Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, Mahito, Toji, Geto, Sukuna, Douma, Tengen, Mitsuri, Akaza, Gyutaro, Muzan, Light Yagami, Chilchuck, Laios, Ascended Astarion, Dio, Kira Yoshikage, Jotaro, Josuke, Yoosung, Mammon, Asmodeus, and Denji.

Notes: {Most of these are just ramblings, sorry if they mirror each other in similarity. Not all characters from each show/movie will be on this list, just a few that came to mind.}

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!

Somewhat proofread

Reader's description; Female/GN

Obsessed

These yanderes have no love for their obsession. Although they want you for romantic purposes, they could never love you. Most of these yanderes treat you like a pet rather than an actual lover.

Mahito

Mahito sees humans as toys. Humans are there for his entertainment. Their tears, their fear, their panic, and their crys are all for his pleasure. Mahito has only managed to love the suffering of human beings.

Mahito harbors no love for his darling. Sure, Mahito favors you compared to other humans and he doesn't outright kill you or torture you, but your relationship is more like a farmer favoring one of the farm animals he’s leading to the slaughter, so he allows it to live a little longer than the others.

If you were to ask him if he loved you since he’s gone out of his way to keep you to himself and demands romantic actions out of you; he’ll respond with a laugh, finding it laughable you’d assume so.

“Love you?” Mahito giggles, “You know, I was manifested by the strong emotions of humans, but love isn’t one of them. But hey, if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite human!”

Sukuna

Sukuna was born evil, not giving two shits about the human race he once belonged to. Love, in the eyes of Sukuna, is a feeble emotion that only exists to continue giving humans a reason for their pitiful existence and to keep their kin cared for. Those who sing songs of romance irk Sukuna. As if the human race couldn't get more irritating. Though he will admit he enjoys a good lovers quarrel. The negative emotions that cause the birth of curses and the scenes of women and men plucking out the eyeballs of their lover's hidden sweetheart in an act of rage; never fails to give him a wicked laugh.

Lust. Lust is what Sukuna feels for you. Love is nowhere in sight. Any act of love you find yourself partaking in with Sukuna isn't because Sukuna desires loving contact, but because you loathe the thought of acting this way with him. He relishes in the resentment you feel towards him. Kisses, hugs, cute nicknames, and lingering touches in favor of disturbing you. Sukuna is obsessed with you due to your enjoyable reactions. Such a scared little thing, he thinks. In a world of humans Sukuna views as insects, you are Sukuna's shivering prized chihuahua.

If you were convinced Sukuna was in love with you and asked about it, he'd laugh in your face.

"Maggots, such as the human race, invented love to maintain relevancy and keep their young alive. What else are they good for if they can only birth a few babes before their bodies break. They might as well drop dead once production is no longer available. Unfortunately for all living creatures, they continue their life spans." Sukana speaks with distaste. He leans his cheek against his fist, gazing down at you from his throne. "I find the emotion despicable. Although.." Sukana begins, lips curling into a cruel smirk, "I could think differently if it came to you, my dear pet." You don't miss the flash of amusement in his ruby eyes at the sight of your grimace.

Douma

Douma will never love anyone. Douma is stated to have no emotions but that isn’t necessarily true. Douma can feel emotions for himself, it’s others he cannot feel emotions for. Douma may have claimed to feel love towards Shinobu but Douma wanted to feel something, or at least convince himself he felt something before the end of his life. Truly Douma could never love his darling even if he tried.

Contrary to popular belief Douma does treat his darling like he loves them...50% of the time. The other half of the time he acts on his sadistic nature.

He is one of the yanderes that will kill his darling with no hesitation if he needs to. Douma will hesitate if his obsession is strong enough to dissuade him. If his darling ever dies or somehow escapes then he’ll forget about them. In his eyes, you’re replaceable since you never were loved in the first place.

“You know, (Name), I think I’m actually in love with you!” Douma would smile down at you as you sat in his lap. “Can’t you hear it! My heart flutters at the sight of you!” he’d pushed your head to his chest, “Such an exquisite feeling.” he cooed at you, hugging you closer. You scowl knowing every word from his lips is a lie. You wonder which one of you he’s trying to convince.

Ascended Astarion

Astarion before the ascension would genuinely love his Darling. And if he didn’t he wouldn’t even be with his Darling. However, if his darling allowed him to go through his accession, all his love would vanish from his body. Once a vampire spawn becomes a true vampire, they become a shell of the person they used to be.

Astarion is no longer the person you once knew. In fact, he resembles his former master in ways. His spawns, his mean attitude, his view of other people as less. It’s a sicking sight, truly. He no longer treats you as an equal. You’re a pet to him, even if he says you are his consort.

You both know Astarion doesn’t love you anymore. Yet neither of you have said a thing about it. Astarion finds it rather amusing you think he could love someone as pathic as you. His old weaker self did and he won’t repeat any actions from the past. And still, he refuses to allow you to leave his side. His darling will be reassured but they know the love of their life is no longer around.

“I love you, my dear pet. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it?” he’d chuckle darkly at you, his tone full of mockery. You wish his words were the truth, but they’re not.

Dio Brando

Even in normal circumstances, Dio wouldn’t be able to love. During his normal life, Dio only loved the pleasure he sought in hurting others. He forced himself to act like he loved Jonathan and George Joestar, but in reality, he was only using them for his advantage. Once he turned into a creature of the night, the was no way he’d be able to love. All of his humanity, including his human emotions had been erased.

Dio’s darling is merely for his entertainment; he does not yearn for a real connection. You’re simply a pet. He’ll care for your health so you won’t die, he’ll feed you well so you won’t starve, and he’ll even buy you nice things to keep you in line. Other than those few things, he could care less about you. He enjoys keeping you around because of your reactions. You’re just so human! It disgusts him and excites him at the same time.

“Poor dear,” Dio sang cruelly as he held you in his lap. “Shivering in my lap like a lamb awaiting for the slaughter.” he’d chuckle darkly after.

Kira Yoshikage

Yoshikage never loves any of his darlings. He takes without a second thought, caring not for the person that fuels his obsession. Yoshikage may take the time to learn about his victim but after some time your fate will be the same as any other darling. Depending on which stage of Yoshikage you get that is.

You could encounter a quick death if you met Yoshikage at the start of Dimond is unbreakable. He’d be interested then when he finds the right time to kill his darling and take their hand. If you come across Kira in the middle of Dimond is unbreakable then your death will come after a while. It depends if he likes your personality since during this stage he begins to prefer knowing a woman’s personality when taking their hand. If he meets you by the end of Dimond is unbreakable then you have the most probability of living. He’d be so concerned about keeping his identity a secret he might keep you around longer and settle with befriending you instead of outright killing you.

Kira really has no love for his darling. The only care he has for his darling is keeping their hands beautiful to fuel his obsession. Kira is less obsessed with his darling and more obsessed with their hands.

“Darling you must keep yourself clean,” he’d chid, pulling out a pack of wipes to desperately clean the dirt from underneath your beautiful fingernails.

Love-Obsessed

Both their feelings and obsession grow together as they come to know you. They love and are obsessed with you. These yanderes see their darling as actual partners and do love them, unlike the obsessed yanderes.

Naruto Uzumaki

Naruto loves you with all of his being. Growing up as a boy with no family and for a short while in his childhood no friends, he yearns for a real connection. He wants to love and be loved. So when you come into the picture, he swears no harm will come to you. Even if the leaf village is at stake.

Naruto does everything he can to please you because he believes you deserve everything good that comes to you. His generosity isn’t meant to be taken as a way to manipulate you, unlike some characters. Naruto strives to keep you happy. He’ll do everything he thinks will do right by you.

Naruto sees his darling as his partner in crime. His one and only. He refuses to look at anyone else. He’ll keep you safe even if it means keeping you locked away.

“I love you more than anything, you know,” Naruto whispers to you as he snuggles up to you. “I’ll never let anything happen to you, believe it.”

Denji

Denji’s been through a lot. No one has been there to love Denji for who he really is. Everyone loves Chainsaw Man...then there's him. All of a sudden you come into his life. Dissimilar Makima or any woman in his life, you care for him. You’re genuinely kind without expecting him to do something for you. His feelings grow for you due to your kind nature.

Being Chainsaw man comes with its cons. He’s always in danger and his loved ones are always in harm's way because of him. He grows paranoid. What would become of you once it was revealed he cares for you?! He manages to pull some strings and finds a place for the both of you to live together. Sure you can’t leave but at least your are safe! Plus, Denji is a great guy who gives you everything you want.

Denji doesn’t force you to care or love him, he implies wanting your tenderness but never forces you. He loves you. He goes as far as fighting every demon in your name.

“I like you...like a lot.” Denji starts off slowly. He’s at your side, crouching to your level. His eyes show vulnerability, “...you don’t have to like me back but I won’t allow anyone to hurt you. I wish things could be different...I really do.”

Yoosung Kim

Yoosung falls in love with his darling very quickly. Originally, Yoosung fell in love with the Mc in eleven days. Instead of his obsession and love growing together, Yoosung falls in love first then his obsession begins to grow. Though Yoosung is in love with his darling he still compares them to Rika despite his darling and Rika not sharing many qualities. He loves his darling for their kindness but also because they share the comfort Rika gave him.

Yoosung doesn't care if he puts his darling in harm's way despite claiming the opposite. Yoosung loves his darling enough to be in harms way along with him. In a way it’s like a romantic double suicide

“You’ll only talk to me, right?” he’d ask. Despite this question being sent through text you could hear the question asked in Yoosung’s voice. “I love you so much, do you really think some guy like Zen could compare?”

Mitsuri kanroji

Mitsuri is heavily encouraged by love in her daily life, so of course she’d be in love with her darling. Her darling completely takes over her mind, invading every thought she has. She doesn’t see her behavior as weird or obsessive. After all, isn’t it ideal for a lover to be utterly in love and devoted to their special someone?

Her obsession and love for you grow at the same pace. She’s so in love with her darling, every action she takes is in the name of her darling. She constantly reminds her darling of her love and devotion, not caring if her darling doesn’t reciprocate.

Her obsession is fueled by the constant rejection she’s faced in her life. She’s clingy, clingy to the point you feel suffocated. She needs her darling's reassurance and will be unsettled by her darling giving anyone else praise she deems too much.

“You’re so amazing!” she’d coo at you, latched onto your right arm, batting her lashes. “I’m so glad you’re mine, (Name).” she’d hum, pushing her face into your sleeve.

Sakura Haruno

She is a very dedicated person. Despite the lack of love she received from Sasuke, she stood by his side the entire time no matter what. When she loves, she loves hard. This also applies when she begins to obsess over her darling. Even if you don’t share her feelings she will never move on. Sakura is a very persistent person, and if she truly desires something then she’ll achieve it.

Her obsessiveness comes later on when she really gets to know you. Once the obsession starts, there’s no way of getting rid of her. Her love overpowers her obsession, which is worse.

If you thought Sakura being at your hip most of the time was annoying, then your hell is with Yandere Sakura. Sakura will never leave you alone. However, you have a savor named Tsunade. Sakura listens to Tsunade with out a doubt. However, Tsunade doesn’t really care for your situation. Sakura can be annoying but she doesn’t bring harm to you. So...not her circus, not her monkeys.

“Gosh,” she’d sigh dreamily as she lay against your chest, “I’m the luckiest girl in the village, aren’t I?”

Josuke Higashikata

The king of romance himself! Josuke loves his darling dearly. Even going as far as to think twice before hurting his darling if they dare insult his hairstyle. Unlike all the others on this list, Josuke would be in love with you first before the obsession would even begin.

Josuke never lets his darling forget his love and dedication towards them. He reminds them he loves them every chance he gets.

Josuke is more normal thanks to his genuine love for his darling. However, that won’t stop him from acting on his obsession. If his darling ever found out about his obsession and attempted to leave, he’d hesitate to

“Oh, these?” Josuke would look down at the bouquet in his hands. He’d rub the back of his neck with a grin, “Just wanted to get something for the lovely girl I call my girlfriend!”

Laois Touden

You are as important as Falin is to him. His mind is full of thoughts of you. Although Laois is obsessed with you, he treats you right. He never oversteps boundaries, always makes sure not to hurt or overwhelm you, and always listens to you and your needs. If it weren’t for his unhealthy obsession, Laios would be the best boyfriend.

Laios obsesses over his darling the same way he obsesses over monsters. Laios carries a notebook full of facts about you. What monster food do you prefer? Easy! You love boiled mimics! After all, Laious put it down in his note book and Laious is dedicated to being correct about his darling.

His love goes as far as locking away his darling; If necessary that is. He’d rather explore the word with his darling. He won’t repeat allowing someone so dear to him to be hurt again. Laios nearly lost his sister and he’ll be damned if you were ever harmed.

“I don’t think I say it enough,” Laios comments completely out of the blue. You and him sit at the breakfast table, still in your midnight clothes. Laios looks at you sweetly, his chin against his palm. “I love you.”

Obsessed to Love- obsessed

These yanderes start just obsessed with their darlings with either no feelings or ignoring their growing feelings. As time goes on, they begin to fall in love with their darling.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji finds it hard to love after his late wife’s passing. So when you come into his life he’s as distant as he can be. Toji’s rude and nasty to you. Not because he dislikes you- well, not fully anyway- but because Toji can sense his attraction towards you. It scares him; it Angers him even. Toji’s had his fair share of one-night stands, feeling nothing after them besides passing sentiments of guilt because of his late wife. However, you’re different. For some reason, the fuzzy feelings he felt with his late wife have come back when he’s around you. He loathes these feelings. In a way, Toji finds this as a betrayal, and he blames you.

However, as time progresses, Toji learns to allow you in. He can’t obsess over his late wife forever. At first, he’s simply obsessed with you. Always around you, you’re constantly on his mind, keeping a tracking device on you, the usual. Then it happens. You show him genuine kindness and show you care for his well-being and it’s like a switch flipped. Toji realizes he’s in love. And instead of getting angry or distancing himself, he accepts it. Unfortunately for you, Toji’s left broken by his ex-wife’s death and you’re the new love of his life.

You’re immediately kidnapped and taken away to live with him. The one person he loved died, he will not have that happen again. Toji knows he needs a stable life to keep you around and he refuses to use another woman for her money since he finds it disrespectful to you. Toji’s gambling habits cease nearly quickly. He works for the both of you to have a stable life because he love you enough to try. Toji never outright tells you he loves you, but you can tell in the ways he acts around you.

“I’ve gotta say, you’re the biggest pain in my ass.” Toji would grumble. You both lay on the couch together, him on the bottom while you lay ontop of him with a blanket wrapped around you. His hands fiddled with your hair, one of his quiet ways to show his love.

Akaza

At first, he felt like he was betraying his first love, Koyuki. Akaza distances himself because of the guilt that consumes him. He feels so weak, which pisses him off. And he can’t help but find himself getting angry at his darling as well since you caused this weak feeling to initiate. If it weren’t for his guilt at the onset Akaza would be categorized in the love-obsessed category. Once he learns to move on and realize his feelings will not be leaving any time, then he’d be loving towards his darling.

Immediately, His darling is kidnapped. Akaza has learned from his past to always be near his loved ones; his darling wouldn’t suffer the same fate because of his carelessness. He’d keep them in a nice house deep in the forest. Akaza remembers every part of the forest just in case you attempted to run away. The house would be nice and furnished and his darling could request items to be placed into the house. It’s more of a house for his darling than a shared house.

Very loving towards his darling. If it weren’t for the circumstances, Akaza and his darling's relationship would be seen as the ideal romantic relationship. Akaza didn’t want his darling to be taken away, he’d much rather have his darling willingly. However, his trauma and immortality dissuade him.

“You’re so beautiful...” Akaza would murmur to you. You watched in the mirror as the demon brought your hairbrush back to your hair, gently going through the strands. “So beautiful, my love.” he’d press a small kiss on your shoulder blade.

Jotaro Kujo

Jotaro already has too many problems to worry about romance. Jotaro’s obsession disturbed him. He has other priorities such as saving the world from enemy stand users, yet he often finds himself thinking about you rather than the problem at hand. It becomes a problem for him. There’s even a point where he becomes annoyed by your name alone. However, as time goes on he learns to accept his feelings of obsession. Then he’ll have to accept the romantic feelings that soon follow after he accepts his obsession.

A while back, I wrote Jotaro as a yandere that would hold you captive and overall be very intimidating towards his darling. Now that I look at his character, he’s more likely to act regularly with his darling. Jotaro will come off the same as any man who has a healthy relationship with their significant other. The only reason he’d become intimidating towards his darling is because they’re trying to leave him. No matter how obsessed jotaro finds himself, he ultimately won’t force his darling by his side. Jotaro recognizes the danger he puts his darling in when they date, he realizes how selfish he is just being near you. Jotaro genuinely loves his darling, so although he does try to intimidate his darling into staying with him, he would allow you to leave if that’s what you truly wanted.

Jotaro is the type of Yandere to allow you to leave but have you on his mind ever since. There are memorabilia of yours around his house. Pictures hang upon his walls that he hasn’t bothered to take down. There’s even a framed picture of you right next to his bed.

Tengen Uzui + Wives

The Uzuis would be off put by their darling at first. Despite it traditionally being on the man’s part to decide if he wants to marry another wife, Tengen puts his wife's decisions above his. Tengen isn’t the type to simply marry someone because of a little crush or obsession. One, he needs to feel strong feelings towards someone before he considers putting a ring on it. Two, Tengen respects his wives too much to decide marriage on his own. Tengen would introduce the topic and his darling to his wives slowly, giving them a little time to decide whether to feed his obsession or not. Ultimately, Tengen gets their blessings.

Their obsessions don’t blossom until marriage. Ideally, their darling is not as strong as them. They become very protective of them, especially Tengen if this is after he retires. Time passes and they all grow to love their darling, they’re obsession turns into a love obsession. Each one of them won’t keep their hands off their darling. They are in general very touchy with each other, but with their darling, it’s times 100.

At least one of them has to accompany you. Not only to keep you safe but to make sure you never think of leaving them. They don’t mind kidnapping their darling if they need to.

“Don’t splash around so much,” Tengen complained to his other wives. They all sat in the bathtub, cleaning each other. You sat firmly in Tengen’s lap. “Stop hogging cleaning them, Suma!” Makio barks at Suma. “I am not! Lord Tengen! Makio is trying to say I’m hogging the sponge, but I’m not!” Suma whines. They were taking turns washing your body, whilst Hinatsuru washed your hair. Tengen presses a small kiss on the back of your head.

Asmodeus

When Asmodeus first met his darling he only saw them as someone he could seduce for a moment of pleasure. It isn’t until he makes a pact with his darling that his obsession begins. Sure, Solomon also has a pact with Asmodeus and he’s not obsessed with him. You’re different. You help him with problems and spend time with him. And such a cutie you are you do it no questions asked. The obsession sets in when he manages to sleep with you. It was like your body was crafted for him. It’s addicting really. Your taste, your touch, your sweet voice! He’s even considered never touching another again.

He’ll stick around you more which leads to a connection between you...or maybe just in Asmodeus’s eyes. Love, an emotion he’s only been able to share with his brothers, will develop in the time shared with you. You’ve surprised him again! Asmodueus will grow into a possessive person. Not even his brothers will have the fortune of spending time with you. Asmodeus becomes harsh with his brothers, like a cat hissing at other cats for being too close to their owner. Lucifer has to step in ever so often because Asmodeus is close to ripping out one of another demon’s eyes with his claws because they got too friendly with you.

Don’t think you can just leave him either; That isn’t an option whether it be due to your exchange coming to an end or you not wanting a relationship anymore. It just won’t happen. If you have to go back to the human world, that just won’t slide with Asmodeus. He’ll find a way to be with you. If Lucifer doesn't appeal to any of Asmodeus’s requests to keep you in Devil Dom, then he has no problem going with you. Nor does he have a problem possessing random people to see you every day. Now, ending the relationship with Asmodeus will lead to a moment of pain. A moment of pain because there is no way you’d be apart for more than a couple of months. His brothers won’t force you to be in Asmodeus’s arms nor will they stop talking to you until you give in to dating Amsodeus again, they care for you as much as they care for their brother. Nonetheless, you will have earfuls of them trying to convince you to be with Asmodeus again. Not to mention every demon in Devil Dom has been in your DMs on Devilgram. All of his adoring fans call you every name under the sun. No matter how tough your skin is their words will get to you. They even began to spread hate against humans which got the attention of both Lucifer and Diavalo. Now you’re having a conference with them, where you simply decide to go back to him. It’s better for everyone.

“Don’t you feel so much better~” Asmodeus coos to you, his fingers deep inside your cunt. “No one can make you feel as good as I can!” Asmodeus presses a trail of kisses down your neck, “No one could love you as much as i do.”

Mammon

When you first met, Mammon only saw you as an annoying human. Another task on his list that his brother put on him. Then he began to get to know you and that view quickly faded. Unlike other yanderes, Mammon fell in love quickly compared to the others. Suddenly, Mammon was proud to be your first man. So proud in fact that many reconsider his sin being greed.

Though greed is definitely his sin. He’s so greedy he won’t allow his family to take your time away from him. Mammon nearly snarls like a rabid dog at the thought of anyone stealing you away from him. If it’s his brothers then he won't have as much of a problem, he’ll complain but won’t harm them. Let another demon try the same and he won’t care if he breaks a few bones. Not even caring for Lucifer’s chiding.

His love is apparent. It’s overwhelmingly sweet, overshadowing his tough-guy act. You won’t even mind his obsession because his love delays any concerns that arise because of his actions.

“I’m your first man, so I should be your most important priority,” Mammon huffs clinging to your waist tightly. You scheduled a lunch with his brothers due to Mammon taking up your time, now you think you should cancel it. Mammon shows no sign of letting go any time soon and it’s getting harder to breath.

Chilchuck Tims

There would be no way in hell Chilchuck would allow himself to fall in love or even think of any romantic thoughts of his darling, at first. After his wife left him and took away his children, leaving him alone, he couldn’t bear the thought of another romantic relationship. His obsession starts slowly because he distances himself since he can tell he feels attracted to you.

He hates the fact he often has dreams of you or the fact he remembers your favorite foods. He especially hates it when he gets a foreign fuzzy feeling in his chest when it comes to you. He’s often rude and closed off to his darling. He comes off meaner to his darling than anyone else. It has gotten to the point the others often call him out on his behavior to which he scoffs and turns away.

It isn’t till he learns that not everyone will leave him and he can learn to be a better partner Chilchuck opens himself to being romantic with his darling. He grows to love his darling so dearly. He writes to his daughters about his darling. Even goes as far as mentioning them every chance he has to his companions.

And although he’s finally going through the process of learning to forgive himself for his divorce, he’s still paranoid. If you show any signs of leaving him, he won’t immediately lock you away but he’ll become uncharacteristically clingy. Every hour he’s snuggling closer to you, asking about your day. He even begins to stop complaining about small things you do that annoy him at times. If you are attempting to leave him, good luck. That isn’t happening. Besides Chilchuck’s small size, he’s incredibly smart when it comes to dire situations. Such as you leaving.

“I...I love you.” Chilchuck admits, his face has an expression of the first taste of sour candy. It’s almost as if the words stung the tip of his tongue each time he spoke.

Gyutaro

You’re interesting to him. Whether you’re ugly or pretty, Gyutaro envies you. Those who are attractive get to live happily without the misery of being ugly. It makes him sick. You are treated better than he was that’s for sure. But as he comes to know how kind you are to others, especially the less fortunate, he begins to obsess over you. You’re so beautiful, much more attractive than him anyway. How could he not think of you.

Gyutaro learns more about you by stalking you. He’s always around, going as far as to hide in the dark of your room in the mornings just to get more of you. Gyutaro never thought about marriage as a mortal, he was too caught up in caring for his sister and many girls never even glanced his way when it came to romance. You change his mind. He can imagine you in a beautiful wedding dress as you profess your love to him not even cringing at his ugliness.

He genuinely loves his darling. Gyutaro wishes he could have met his darling when he was a mortal, his life wouldn’t have been so depressing, and he could have even tried to find a better occupation and live a normal life with you. He’s selfish, after all, he’s faced so many hardships, why can’t he take the few things that bring him joy? No one else deserves you. Once you’ve lost your beauty, you’re better off dead than in the hands of others.

“So beautiful...gahahaha!” Gyutaro laughed manically to himself. He sat in the corner watching you closely, his hand covering his wide smile. “No one else could compare!”

Possibly love-obsessed (unsure)

These yanderes could either love their darling and never admit it or not love them at all. It depends on the situation or stage of the relationship.

Suguru Geto

(Only Non-Sorcerer Darling)

Geto believes that he could never love a Non-Sorcerer yet has an obsession with his darling. Geto felt the need to dehumanize the Human race since his change in ideology to cease any doubts he may have about his decisions. There may be a part of him deep down that isn’t fond of the idea of hurting Non-sorcerers but is too far gone to even think about ending what he started. Geto strives to protect the weak. When he was in high school he believed that the weak were Non-Sorcerers until his perspective changed to Sorcerers being the weak ones due to the Non-Sorcerers being in charge and harming the ones keeping them safe from curses. He found the acts of Non-Sorcerers to be unforgivable which is why he went to the extreme of choosing to start a genocide.

There is a part of him that despises his darling. How could some random monkey make him feel this way? It’s perplexing. Sometimes he wants to gouge out your throat and watch as the light fades from your eyes to give him the pleasure of his original ideology: All Non-Sorcerers should be terminated. Yet he cannot bring himself to put the plan into action. Especially when you’ve been such a good pet and listen to his every command. He won’t admit that he craves to be around you. He loves holding you tight as you both drift to sleep, he loves the sweet kisses that he forces out of you, and he loves the way you moan out his name. A filthy monkey shouldn’t have the pleasures of indulging in his greatness, yet he refuses to kill his darling.

Even Geto doesn’t know if he loves his darling. He’s adamant he only sees his darling as his pet, but deep down he might love his darling. Though that would never come to light.

“You’re a good pet. Always listening and obeying my commands.” Geto comments as he reads his daily newspapers. You brush his hair quietly, focusing on the raven strands gently pulled by the bristles of the brush. “Good. Just as all monkeys should.”

Sasuke Uchiha

It isn’t that Sasuke is incapable of loving because he definitely loves the people in his life. However, he is too emotionally immature to truly love his darling. He yearns for their touch and love but he can’t for the life of him reciprocate the affection.

Sasuke has forgotten the feeling of love since It had been ripped away from him at such a young age. He assumes his love for things in his life is just extreme liking them. Sasuke extremely likes tomatoes and Sasuke extremely likes talking walks but the word love never seems to come to mind. If anything he just won't admit it to himself. He can love.

It won’t be until when Baruto begins that Sasuke is finally classified as Love-obsessed. He’s more truthful to others and himself. He can finally admit he’s in love with his darling...to himself. In Baruto, Sasuke is more open to being vulnerable around his loved ones and even tries his best to repair relationships with advice from Kakashi.

“I care about you...” Sasuke would say, not daring to look you in the eyes. “...a lot,” he adds in awkwardly.

Light yagami

Many believe Light to have no love for anyone, for whatever reason. However, this is not the case. Light's love for his family is one of the main reasons he decides to become Kira. Or what he believes to be justice. Light started out wanting to be a cop because his father was a cop and Light wanted to bring justice to the world. Light wants the world filled with good and his family surrounded by good instead of unjustified evil. The reason he’s so cruel to Misa and even uses her to his advantage is that he never shared these feelings in the first place. Misa forced him into a relationship with her and didn’t seem to mind him not wanting it. He’s very different with his darling.

I put him on this list because there are two ways Kira could feel about his darling. One, he’d be obsessed with them but wouldn’t love them. This would happen if they were involved in the Kira case and Light would obsess over them because of it. Two, his darling is a random citizen who shares his feelings and judgment, and Light loves his darling dearly.

Even if Light truly cares for you, he won't admit it because of his focus on the Kira case.

Muzan kibutsuji

For Muzan to care about his Darling, they would have to have certain qualifications. One, they knew of Muzan before he transitioned into the first demon. Two they either could relate to Muzan’s past as a human or they didn’t have any judgment towards Muzan because of his sickly appearance. These are a few situations that would lead to Muzan's obsession. Once Muzan turned he had past wives who killed themselves because of his cruelness. Muzan had no feelings toward them which is why Muzan would be more likely to love or care about his darling if he had known them before his change.

If Muzan’s darling had none of these traits then Muzan would be purely obsessed with his darling. Muzan would need a connection with his darling. There is a slim chance his darling could win over his true affection, but the chance of it happening is nearly impossible.

[the20thangel]

As My Queen Commands

Summary: This was a request: The war has ended, leaving a few survivors for the Targaryen family. As the oldest living child of Queen Rhaenyra and King-Consort Daemon, you have been crowned as Queen. Your council worries this is insufficient to stabilize the realm and urge you to marry. So, a ball is hosted to find a potential husband. There, you happen to meet again a certain lord from Raventree Hall.

Targaryen!reader X Benjicot Blackwood

Tags: no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.9k

masterlist

It has been five moons since the war officially ended, with only a few survivors left: Your sisters, Baela and  Rhaena, You, and your brothers Aegon and Visery. In contrast, poor little Jaehaera was the only survivor of the greens. They wanted to marry the little princess to your brother Aegon to show peace to the realm, but you fought tooth and nail against it. Luckily, it worked, with the princess warding in Driftmark with Baela. Rhaena decided to stay in Kingslanding to continue helping in looking after Aegon and Viserys. You were forever grateful to her, not knowing how you would have juggled caring for two small princes and bringing peace to a kingdom on your own. 

You sighed as your maid finished braiding your platinum hair into beautiful Valyrian braids. Lord Corlys Velayron, one of your advisors, decided that if Aegon did not marry Jaehaera, a ball needed to happen; you required an heir. You needed to marry someone to strengthen your reign and have said heir. You grew upset at the news, stating that Aegon and Viserys were your heirs. You did not need to marry so soon but to focus on the realm. But the lords opposed it, stating that an alliance would help strengthen prosperity for your reign. After countless arguments, it started to weigh on you. You surrendered yourself to finding a husband to ease the tensions. You knew that, realistically, you should have been married already, but with a war, nobody besides Cregan Stark would have the luck to find a spouse. So it was decided the ball was a host to find lords who would gladly become king consort. 

“Thank you, Diana. That will be all tonight,” you dismissed your maid as you finished placing your red ruby jewelry on your body: a necklace, earrings, and rings. 

As you rose, making sure you seemed presentable, you heard a knock on your chamber doors, calling for them to enter; came in little Viserys, wearing a red and black doublet and a black cape. Smiling, you went to your brother, kissing him on the forehead, asking him what brought him to your room. 

“Aegon and I decided to escort you and Rhaena to the ball. I wanted to escort you!” Viserys excitedly explained, his purple eyes glowing. 

You smiled at him, your heart growing fond of his childish excitement at a party in his own words. You gladly extended your hand to him as you both walked to the ballroom. Servants, knights, lords, and ladies smiled at the scene of the young prince escorting his queenly sister. As you grew closer to the ballroom, your heart started racing. You needed to find a husband, a husband who would defend you without hindering your rule. A Husband who will love you and not stray in lovers. A husband who would be okay with not being the center of attention or being unable to spend time entirely at his keep. More importantly, you need a husband who would love your brothers as sons as you have grown to love them as your sons. These two boys suffered so much that they needed parental figures. You gladly took on that role, and you knew other lords would instead ship them off to the ward and focus on their children from your union. You would not allow that to happen; your brothers would be raised together with any potential children. 

As your royal titles were introduced, you entered the ballroom; the once somber room brought back to life like the times of King Viserys I. Numerous houses' colors and banners hang from the gilded walls. You walked with your head held high, noticing how every male in the room turned to you, looking at you like a piece of meat or prize to be won. Disgusted, you knew this night was going to be a long one. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After two hours of mindless chatter and many toes sore from lords clumsy stepping on your feet, you felt like you would burst. If one more lord came up to you talking about their “accomplishments” or your hand for a dance, you were considering feeding them to your dragon.

 Rhaena, noticing her sister’s mood, quickly went to her side. 

“Sister, why don’t you step outside for a while? I will distract the lords… tease them that I also might be willing to marry one,” advised Rhaena, squeezing your hand. 

You smiled gratefully at her; she knew you well as you nodded and sneakily walked out of the ballroom. You decided to go into the courtyard, where there was silence; walking alone, you sighed in relief. Away from the court’s hungry eyes, you felt like you could finally breathe; you heard the chirps of crickets and the noises of the small folk outside the walls. At least your people had the chance to have fun and eat after suffering for so long due to the war. If people were happy, then you would be willing to suffer through 100 more balls. Walking further to the training yards, eyes filled with tears. Remembering when you secretly train with Jace and Luke here once, you pick up a bow. You were more of an archer than a sword fighter. Feeling the need to release some stress, you notched your bow, aiming at the targets, letting it go. With glee, you smiled, seeing how it hit the center of the target. Notching another, you continue your meditation of aim, notch, release, and hit. You forgot about the outside world, silly lords, and their silly ideas. Let yourself forget the constraints of marriage that will soon find you one way or another. As you notched your bow again, you heard footsteps close to you; you aimed at the intruder, who quickly froze, raising his hands in peace. 

Seeing the familiar red and black clothing, you sighed, lowering your bow, “I would think you knew better than to sneak up on a dragon princess, Lord Blackwood.” 

“Dragon Queen, you mean? And I did not mean to; I was just walking around when I heard the sound of arrows, and my curiosity peaked, not expecting to find the queen here.” teased Benjicot, smirking at you. 

You snorted with an unamused brow raised. You tended to forget that you were now the queen, not a princess. 

“Hmm, what about you… Does the Bloody Ben not do ballroom dances?” you ask, not letting yourself falter from his teasing. You grin as you see him flush red and look down at the floor. 

“ I’m sorry, my queen, but I fear, no, dancing is not one of my skills, and after stepping on a few toes, I thought it best to save more maiden’s poor feet.” embarrassedly explained Benjicot, his eyes still to the ground. 

As you began to giggle at the mental image, he raised his head sharply, his eyes widening as he heard your soft giggles. He hoped you would not notice his cheeks flushing red even more, but he thought seeing you laughing was beautiful. He always admired you from afar during the war, but he was so busy leading the armies and you with the stress of your mother’s state. Neither had a chance to speak to one another properly. Then, after the war, he had to return to his lands and tend to them, and you were crowned the queen. 

After your giggles, you smiled at him, noticing how he stared at you like you were the moon, blushing you asked him to walk with you. Walking in serene silence, your fingers brushed against one another. You smiled at the feeling as you wondered how his lands were doing. 

Benji smiled at you, “It's going well; we are recuperating from the war; it helps that since my lady aunt Alysanne has married lord Stark, the Brakens haven’t tried to enter our lands…forgive me, I should…” Falter Benji worried you would become upset hearing about his house's feud with the Brakens. 

Seeing this, you turned to him, grasping his hands, “ Benjicot… we fought a war together. I saw how the Brakens treated your family. I do not mind hearing your worries, my lord. On the contrary, I wanted to ask why there hasn’t been an official border separating your lands from theirs?” 

Benji smiled wry at you, “We have in the past, but… no offense to your grandsire, but he did not deem it essential to discuss.” 

You sighed, knowing your grandsire had made many mistakes, including allowing Otto Hightower free reign in his kingdom. You will not make the same foolish mistakes. 

Smiling, you replied, “How about a moon after the ball? I invite houses Blackwood and Bracken to set a clear border separating your lands finally. Hopefully, this will stop the bloodshed between the two houses.” 

Benji gaped at you. He couldn’t believe you would do that for him and his family after many years and losses. He quickly thanked you, kissing your hand as you graced him with a pearly smile. You noticed you had been gone for a while, and Rhaena would probably start worrying. You two walked back towards the ballroom, taking your time, not wanting to leave each other's company, as Benji asked how he could repay your generosity. 

Humming, you finally clicked that he was here at the ball; he was an eligible suitor, and House Blackwood was loyal and fierce. What better match than them than him? 

“Lord Blackwood, I just remembered you are here tonight. Were you going to try for my hand like the other lords?” you asked, hoping he said yes. It would be easier to explain your decision to him. 

Benjicot froze as he tensed his shoulders. He hoped you had forgotten the purpose of so many houses here. He decided to tell you a white lie so your rejection would not hurt. 

“I came to celebrate you, my queen, but yes, I came to look for a potential wife… so many houses came that my advisors are pushing me to try and…charm a lady to want a marriage alliance with my house…but-” 

You frowned, a lady? “Not a queen?” you interrupted as you watched his face; he seemed shocked by your question.

Gulping, Benji noticed your eyes sharpened. “No, my queen, I could never insult you like that. What could my house ever bring to you in a marriage?” 

Your eyes softened at his humble words; all these lords came flocking their houses and praising what a potential marriage would bring to the realm and the crown. Yet here was one lord who truly enjoyed her company, not looking for marriage because he believed he was not worthy of such a thought. 

As you walked closer, you stroked his cheek before moving your hand to his lips, your thumb caressing his lips as you whispered. 

“House Blackwood stood by my mother throughout the war; you fought bravely in battles for my family, reclaiming Kingslanding and all without thinking of any sort of payment. Even today, while every lord flocked to me like peacocks showing off their ‘qualities,’ you humbly state how you feel you are not worthy. You still expected nothing from me, even once I said I would build a border to keep your lands safe from the Brakens. What more could I ever ask for a future king consort? You, my lord, are different, and I cannot help but ask for you at least think of marriage with me.” 

Benji smiled, leaning closer to you, “Is that a command from you, my queen?” 

Grinning, seeing how he never rejected your confession, you leaned closer, your lips nearly touching, “If it is, would you accept my lord?” 

Huffing in a quiet laugh, “As my queen commands of me,” he replied, kissing you sweetly. 

Melting into his embrace, you smiled at his kiss, feeling the future in his arms seemed brighter. 

[dark-and-kawaii]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ A Delicious Meal ˖⟡˚౨ৎ⋆

Summary: As long as he can see you writhe, begging, crying, pleading beneath him, he doesn't care. He is your sin, your pleasure, your addiction.

₊˚⊹♡ Pairing: Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

₊˚⊹♡ Content: NSFW - Creampie - Choking - Impregnating - Raphael Takes What He Pleases - The Devil You Know

You know his cock will leave you bruised, and the thought of walking back to your companions, limping and in pain, makes you moan against his neck. Your nails raking down his chest, leaving behind dark angry red marks against his devilish ruby like skin.

Raphael is relentless, taking, taking, and taking from you, making you beg for his cock. Beg to be filled by his length, his fingers, his tongue, his tail, anything. As long as he can see you writhe, begging, crying, pleading beneath him, he doesn't care. He is your sin, your pleasure, your addiction.

Through clenched teeth, he curses, groaning against the shell of your ear, “Such a pleasurable little thing you are. And eager like a newborn pup, so needy, so desperate to please.”

You can only moan and sob against him, the pleasure and the pain mixing together into one heady cocktail. One that only he, the devil you know could make for you.

Lifting his body, he places his hands against your delicate throat, using it hold his weight as pulls his cock out until just the tip is left, “Open your eyes mouse… I long to see the moment when your soul becomes entirely mine, when your being is at my beck and call. To use. To pleasure me whenever I desire it, wherever I desire it.”

The moment his fingers squeeze around your neck, you cry out, eyes shooting open, your vision filled with his face, the face of a devil, a man, a lover, a monster. His pupils are blown wide, and his mouth is slightly agape, tongue darting out to wet his lips. The sight makes you clench down on the tip of his cock...

“So obedient.”

With a punishing thrust, he bullies as much of his cock into your cunt as he could, bottoming out against your cervix and emptying himself into your tight, plump, and abused hole. Your scream, your pleasured moans, your tears, the feel of your nails clawing at his arms… Oh how it makes Raphael shiver.

It was all so intoxicating.

He continued to fuck you through his orgasm, his grip on your neck tightening as your cunt spasms around him. Raphael could visualize his seed seeping into you… Shooting deep within your womb, waiting for one of his children to find its way to an egg, working its way into its pliable wall to impregnate you. The very thought, the very idea of you pregnant, with his child, with his heir, makes his cock jerk and spill once more.

Your body was on fire, your vision blackened at the edges, and you felt a cold sweat overtake you as you cum, a gush of liquid pouring from your cunt. Raphael watches as you pass out, and the feel of you going limp in his hands is almost enough to get him hard again.

But for now, he must clean you, tend to you. You had passed out due to a lack of air. It would not do to let your lungs suffer, he had a fondness for your voice, for the sounds you made. His little mouse… His little songbird.

Slowly he pulls his cock from you, watching in fascination as his cum pours from your pussy, a mixture of yours and his, a perfect union, a perfect match… You truly were made for him, and perhaps he was made for you.

A soft smile crosses his lips and he leans down to capture your lips, whispering against them, a promise, a vow, a command, “Forever mine.”

[viktoriaashleyyx]

A list of why I do not like Feyre and question her narrative:

I'm writing this while at work and from memory so it is not comprehensive, feel free to add onto this. Also, I only read up to a few chapters into ACOFAS before I dropped the whole series and got my money back.

First and foremost, the straw that broke the camels back, and the most important: She praised RhySAnd for the enactment of the blockade against Hewn City citizens in Velaris. The Hewn city is a City, not a prison, most of the people trapped there are only guilty of the crime of being born there. I don't blame you, Kier, I would've ignored her ass too for that stupid ass "you have all the comforts here" comment. It is difficult to continue to care that Tamlin locked her up when she shows no empathy towards the people she locks up. When she accepted the title of High Lady she accepted responsibility for the practices and procedures carried out by the Night Court. "I don't want those people ruining my perfect city" stfu.

False r@pe accusation to manipulate Tamlin and Lucien. It seemed like the moral of that scene was "don't trust everyone who tells you they've been r@ped, they could just be manipulating you." Fuck you SJM. These books are the fucking opposite of feminist.

Conjuring wings from a people she is not a part of when MOST of the women from that culture have their wings clipped. She never once thought of them. She never cared. And then proceeds to use them for her partners sexual pleasure. Definitely cultural appropriation.

She never cared or considered the people of the Spring court who she helped destroy. She's gallivanting around the Night court while the citizens of Spring have become refugees in other lands. Tamlin is at least suffering for his part in it.

Her nasty ass comments toward Tarquin who has never done anything to her except send her a damn ruby. Her attitude towards everyone who is not RhySAnd is disgusting and off putting. She's just an entitled brat.

Continues to treat Lucien like shit. He confessed to her about his incredibly tragic past and her response is "it still doesn't excuse how he treated me." Bitch he was rude to you because you killed his friend. No self awareness.

There will be more later, but this is the main shit.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Emotions | Sam Winchester x Angel!Fem!Reader

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Angel!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5521

Warnings: mentions of drug addiction, mentions of smut (MDNI this is an 18+ blog), mentions of iffy family dynamics

A/N: For this nonnie! I have a very deep love of music and a special connection with it, and pretty much all of my one-shot fics are gonna be titled after songs. If you'd like to connect with the music as well, here's a few songs I recommend reading while you listen to the chapter!

Emotions by Brenda Lee

In the Still of the Night by the Five Satins

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier

Snow Angel by Renee Rapp

Queue up on Spotify or your preferred streaming service, and happy reading!

General Writings Masterlist

Humans were curious. The more time you spent with them, the more you couldn’t understand why your father loved them so much. However, one human was beginning to pique your interest. His name was Sam Winchester. 

Your brother Castiel had been charged with rescuing Sam’s brother, Dean, from Hell. However, Zachariah had not given the word to begin the mission just yet. You, though, were charged with the care of Sam Winchester. 

He became interesting for a number of reasons. The Winchester boys had been of special interest to all of Heaven since their mother died in Azazel’s attack. You’d known of his existence and watched from afar as the sweet, intelligent young man became a cold shell of who he once was while his brother suffered in Hell. The demon Ruby— who you would be sure to kill as soon as you could get your hands on her— had been getting Sam addicted to the potent substance that was demon’s blood. If you had to compare it to a human drug, you’d heard many angels say it felt like a heroin addiction. 

Despite your disinterest in most of humanity, you were more compassionate toward them than most of your brothers and sisters. While some, like Uriel, were ruthless in their method to get humans on their side, you always took a more “humane” approach. No matter how many times humanity had broken your heart through their horrible mistakes leading to death and destruction, you still tried to show each human compassion. 

You watched from afar as Sam began to learn to exorcize demons with his mind. The experience was undoubtedly painful, and your anger with Ruby grew with each passing day. Always keeping your distance, though, because you knew now was not the right time to step in. Zachariah would give you the word when it was. 

You followed Sam down a darkened, busy street, keeping just far enough back that he wouldn’t be able to see you. He turned the corner onto what you assumed was another street, and you foolishly followed. Suddenly, you were pinned to the wall with a demon’s knife at your throat and an angry Sam staring down at you. 

“Who the hell are you?” the man spat, pressing the tip of the weapon into your throat forcefully. “Why are you following me?”

“Hello, Sam,” you said calmly. “My name is (Y/N). I’m here to help you.”

He scoffed. “What? Another demon coming to peddle your wares? I don’t think so.” The brunet stepped away from you and tried to exorcize you with his powers. 

You just remained still, large doe-eyes looking at him with a small smile playing on your lips. 

Sam then appeared scared. “What— What are you?”

“I’m an angel,” you replied evenly.

He laughed. “Right. C’mon, what are you really?”

You unfurled your large, beautiful wings and called upon a clap of thunder to ensure the shadow would be cast on the wall behind you. “I told you. I’m an angel.”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t believe this.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked. “Why are you angry?”

He spun around to face you. “Why am I angry? My brother’s been dragged to Hell, and you’re asking me why I’m angry?”

You continued to look at him in confusion. 

“I prayed. Every day for the last year Dean was alive. Why didn’t one of you answer?” he finished.

“It wasn’t the right time,” you explained. “Father wouldn’t allow us.”

“Well, fuck all of you guys, then,” Sam spat.

You were intrigued and confused by his intense anger. “Your prayers are being answered now. Isn’t that all that matters?”

“Too little, too late,” he replied. “Now, leave me alone.”

You stared after him as he walked away. Didn’t he want your help? Why was he angry at you when you were simply obeying your father? His prayers were being answered, and he was cruel to you.

That should have enraged you. However, it only intrigued you even more.

***

You knew Sam had not told Ruby he’d seen you, which surprised you. Everything about this man was surprising you.

While his addiction to demon blood was horrific and disgusting to you, you were surprised how much… empathy, you believed the feeling was— you were starting to feel for him. He’d undoubtedly been manipulated by the demon into that state of being.

His incredible strength both physically and mentally was impressive. While he wouldn’t last a moment in a fight with you or any of your brothers and sisters, he was skilled in many different athletic pursuits. His interest in different philosophies was curious to you as well; most humans you'd come across were set in their ways with no interest in different points of view.

After your last conversation with him, you decided not to intervene unless he desperately needed you. And now, he desperately needed you.

Ruby had either knowingly or unknowingly sent him into a death trap. While Ruby conveyed she believed only two demons to be hiding in a warehouse, an entire lair of at least thirty laid in wait for the young man. You knew you’d have to get involved this time, no matter if Zachariah approved or not.

You watched from the skylights of the darkened warehouse as Sam crept around with Ruby following closely behind. Your father willing, you’d slit her throat with her own knife.

You could see the other demons beginning to creep in around Ruby and Sam. Sam was the first to notice something was wrong and spun around to face the demons behind Ruby.

You used your powers to appear behind a wire rack covered with boxes to have the element of surprise with the demons.

“Hey there, handsome,” one of the demons was telling Sam.

Another snarled, “And Ruby. I thought Lilith got rid of you.”

“Apparently, she didn’t do a very good job,” replied Ruby.

The demons had Sam and Ruby back to back as they closed in their circle around the two.

Taking out your blade, you stepped out into the dim light, heels clicking across the floor. All of the demons turned around to face you, as did Sam and Ruby.

“Wow, Ruby. Seriously? You’re working with an angel?” a demon snickered.

You didn’t allow any of the demons a chance to get another word in. You appeared behind the demon who had the nerve to speak up and plunged your blade through its vessel’s back.

A few of the demons tried to escape by fleeing their bodies, but you forced them back in. While you were compassionate, merciful would not be a word used to describe you. When you were crossed, you didn’t play nicely. 

A few demons tried to charge you, and you immediately reached out to two, grabbed their hands, and killed them while you used your free arm to plunge your blade through the other’s chest. With, in all honesty, very little effort, you managed to make your way through most of the demons. With the mess of dead bodies sprawled across the concrete floor, it made it easier to see what was left for you to deal with. That was when you noticed Ruby was gone, but Sam was still there, fighting demons with his demon knife. 

A demon behind Sam was preparing to stab him in the back, but you threw your angel blade through the demon’s throat just in time to save Sam. 

Slowly but surely, you made your way through the remaining demons. Sam panted from exhaustion and the few wounds he’d sustained but still stood with his shoulders squared. “I didn’t need saving,” he huffed.

“I don’t mean to offend you, but yes, you did,” you replied evenly. “I will admit, I’m disappointed your demon friend left so soon. I was looking forward to formally introducing myself.” 

Sam laughed, somewhere between mocking and a genuine laugh. “You were gonna kill her, weren’t you?”

“Without hesitation,” you nodded. “I know what she’s been doing, Sam. I know what you’ve been doing.” 

“I really don’t think that’s any of your business,” he said, his voice cold. 

“It is my business.”

“How?”

“Angels are only sent to earth for their missions; unless they’ve fallen,” you explained. “Like I told you before, you’re my mission.”

“And like I told you,” he sneered, “not interested.”

“I don’t understand,” you stated. “Isn’t this what you wanted? I’m answering your prayer. I thought you’d be happy.” 

“I told you; too little, too late—!”

“I’m not talking about the prayers for your brother anymore, Sam,” you cut him off. “I’m talking about your prayers for yourself.”

That seemed to quiet him down.

“I heard you. The first night you drank demon’s blood, you prayed. That was when I was assigned to you,” you told him. “Some of the angels believed you were too far gone. I, however, was the one to ask my superior if I could help you.” 

Tears welled in Sam’s eyes. “Why would you do that? Why wouldn’t you save Dean?” 

“I wanted to,” you admitted, not quite understanding why you were spilling your secrets to a human.

He got angry again. “Why didn't you?!”

You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing. “It is not my place to question my superiors. I serve Heaven first; not you.”

“Well, find some other way to serve Heaven. I’m not interested,” he grumbled, turning away. You noticed how painfully he rolled his shoulder.

“I can fix that for you,” you said, stopping him in his tracks. 

“What?” Sam turned back around.

“Your arm.” You nodded in its direction. “And those gashes. They look like they’ll get infected if you don’t let me help you.” You stepped toward him, and he remained still.

His impressive stature was incredibly intimidating to you despite your angelic status. You had never felt such a feeling; only when you were in the presence of the archangels. Whatever this feeling was, you didn’t think you liked it.

“May I?” you asked, hesitantly reaching your fingers out toward his arm. 

Sam nodded, face drawn into hard lines.

You closed your eyes as you touched his shoulder to concentrate on sending your healing powers through his body. You didn’t miss the way his muscles tensed momentarily before relaxing under your touch. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

You nodded. 

Sam hesitated for a moment before asking, “ What’d you say your name was?”

“(Y/N),” you responded.

***

You watched through the window of the cabin he was hiding in as Sam fought with Ruby over you. You expected Ruby to be angry, but you didn’t expect Sam to defend you. 

“She’s an angel, Ruby, she’s not here to hurt me,” Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“You don’t know angels, Sam. I do. They’re not the peaceful hippies the Bible makes them out to be,” Ruby snapped. “If she knew I was helping you, she’d probably smite me.”

“She does know,” Sam replied, almost too quietly for even your enhanced hearing. 

“What?! You told her?!”

“No, I didn’t, I—” Sam cut himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “She just knew, somehow.” 

Ruby clearly didn’t believe him. “Somehow,” she scoffed. “And somehow, I don’t believe you.”

“Whatever,” Sam huffed. He suddenly caught your eye in the window but covered it up by quickly looking back to Ruby. “I think you should go.”

She crossed her arms. “Seriously?” The demon rolled her eyes and began to walk toward the door. “Goodbye, Sam.”

You invited yourself into the room. “Is she gone?” you asked Sam, appearing in front of him.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, she’s gone.”

“Your motivations confuse me, Sam Winchester,” you stated bluntly.

He seemed to chuckle genuinely. “Why?”

“Do you not believe Ruby to be helping you? It seemed you couldn’t stand the sight of me less than twenty-four hours ago. Why would you kick her out after all that and cover for me?” you asked, head tilting in confusion.

You knew you weren’t supposed to question. You knew Sam was simply an assignment; there should be no desire for further questions exchanged. However, a nagging force in the back of your mind refused to let those questions remain internal.

“I don’t know,” he responded, seemingly earnest. 

Suddenly, a song began to play in the background. Your head turned to the source of the sound; a peculiar little box with a spinning disc on top of it. You swayed to the soft music emanating from it. “What is this?” you asked.

“Music,” Sam replied from behind you.

You turned to face him. “I know what music is, Sam. What is the little box?”

“A record player,” he replied, much closer to you than he had been when you first turned to the sound of the music.

“And what is this song?” you asked, dewey eyes shining in the dim light.

“Uh, one of the records they had in this old cabin. I think the band’s The Five Satins. ‘In the Still of the Night’,” he explained.

“I think I like this song,” you said, your voice taking on a peculiar lilt you’d never heard yourself speak with before. You suddenly realized how close Sam was to you and backed away. “Well, if you need anything,” you began, “I am never far from you.” And with that, you were gone.

***

“(Y/N)?” you heard Sam praying. “(Y/N), uh, I don’t know if you’re listening—”

With a quick flap of your wings, you appeared in front of Sam in his cabin. “I am,” you replied. 

“Oh, hey,” he snorted. He sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his hands together and staring at the floor.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“I don’t know what the right thing to do anymore is,” he admitted. Sam was suddenly embarrassed by what he’d said. “Uh, I don’t know why I said that…”

“Do not be embarrassed. I do not pass judgment on humans for their feelings,” you replied. 

That pulled a small smile from him. “Do you guys… not have feelings?”

“No,” you replied. “At least, I don’t think we do. Or, perhaps, what we experience as angels is too complex to be simplified into human emotion.”

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“I believe I may experience compassion, but I am not merciful. Those two traits I have seen go together in human manifestations. My loyalty to my father is incomparable to any human form of loyalty. Most humans I have come across sacrifice their loyalties quite easily,” you explained thoughtfully. 

“And by your father, you mean, God?” he asked. 

You nodded. 

Sam hesitated before asking his next question. “What’s he like?”

His question caught you off-guard; it wasn’t something you’d thought about before. “Well, humans describe him as—”

Sam shook his head. “I know what people make him out to be. What do you say?”

That question startled you even more, and all you could answer with was the truth. “I haven’t met him.”

Now, it was Sam’s turn to be caught off-guard. “Really?”

You nodded. “I’ve been around just about as long as the planet, and I’ve never met him once.”

Sam considered for a moment. “And you’re still loyal to him?”

“Well, I don’t necessarily have a choice in that matter,” you replied. “I am an angel. I was created for the purpose of my loyalty to my father and carrying out his missions.” His questions were beginning to get under your skin, and you’d never thought so long about those things before. 

“Well, how do you know your orders come from him if you’ve never met the guy?” Sam continued to press. “How do you know somebody’s not lying to—”

“My brothers and sisters would never lie to me,” you cut him off. Perhaps this is what “offense” felt like? “I don’t believe lying to be something we are capable of.”

Sam took a deep breath and flexed his eyebrows. “Whoa, didn’t mean to strike a nerve, there.”

He did. “You didn’t,” you responded. 

A spell of silence was cast over you. 

“What’s it like?” Sam asked. 

You tilted your head in confusion. 

“That blind faith,” he embellished. “How do you do it?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. I just always have. I am a Seraph; I believe ‘blind faith’ is my purpose.”

“Oh, seraphim’s a real thing? Are you guys the, uh, high-rankers?”

You nodded. “I don’t think of myself in terms of my rank, but I am superior to those in my garrison. My superior is Zachariah; the only one of us in direct communication with the archangels.” You felt yourself snap out of it. “I… don’t know why I told you that.”

“Well, I guess we’re even then,” Sam smiled. 

***

You began to see less and less of Ruby as days went by, and for that, you were grateful. It seemed she was only around for Sam to feed from her.

“What does she say the demon blood will do for you?” you asked Sam, sitting beside him on the edge of the cabin’s roof.

Sam gave you a curious look but answered your question anyway. “It’ll make me strong enough to kill Lilith.”

“And… why do you want to do that?” you asked trepidatiously. 

He answered your question quite blankly, staring ahead. “Revenge. For my brother.”

You nodded. “And what do you believe getting revenge will do for you?”

That seemed to challenge him. “I don’t know.”

“I have been with you since you were young, Sam. I watched you go off to college, I watched Azazel kill Jessica, and I watched every fight between you and your father.”

Sam turned his head toward you as you talked, a pensive look on his face. 

“And I think I decided that all of those fights between you two happened because of how similar the two of you are.” You turned your head toward him, the sunset casting a heavenly glow across Sam’s face. “This is one of those things you two have in common; vengeance. I cannot decide if that’s a good or a bad quality, if I’m honest.”

Sam huffed out a small laugh. “That’s fair.” His hair fell in front of his eyes as he looked down at his hands folded in his lap. His eyebrows drew together, and you just watched him carefully. “You’ve never wanted payback? Not even once?”

You shook your head. “That’s not part of my job. I am a warrior, but I don’t feel emotional attachment to my fights. And, rationally, I know revenge is pointless. It doesn’t change the past. It can only make for a worse future.”

Sam was silent for a moment. “Wow. For a… shiny, hard, plastic, emotionless angel, that’s pretty profound.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “I am not plastic or shiny.”

He laughed. “No, you’re not. Just an analogy.”

“You humans and your words,” you sighed. “The English language is by far the most confusing.”

“Why do you say that?” Sam chuckled. 

“I speak every language ever created, Sam,” you explained. “Even Enochian is simpler than English.”

The young man laughed. “For an angel, you’ve got a good sense of humor.”

You tilted your head. “I didn’t know I did, but thank you.”

***

It had been about three months since Dean’s sentencing. The angels began to talk about how he’d said “yes” to Alistair and was beginning to torture other souls in the pit. However, you knew it was best not to bring that fact up to Sam. 

The brother in your care was still not doing very well. His addiction was getting worse, and his anger at himself for not being strong enough to take care of his most recent demon hunt. You watched through the window as Sam and Ruby shouted at each other, and their anger eventually devolved into Ruby kissing Sam. 

You were stunned, and something you’d never felt before flooded your chest. Whatever this feeling was, you hated it. You backed away from the window you’d become accustomed to staring through and walked off. You felt your vessel stumbling rather than walking, and you were unsure why your chest hurt. You stumbled through the night forward against a tree and held yourself there. 

Whatever was happening to you, one thing was for sure that you could no longer deny: you were beginning to feel.

***

A few days went by, and you hadn’t seen Sam. In fact, you refused to answer his many prayers. He begged you to come to him and told you he didn’t know what he’d done wrong. Eventually, your resolve broke. 

“Hey,” he said, standing from his chair and seeming startled by your appearance. “Wh— Where’d you go? Why didn’t you answer?”

“Why did you have sex with Ruby? Didn’t you know I was watching?” you asked, large eyes holding a pleading innocence. 

Sam seemed caught off-guard. “(Y/N), I haven’t had sex with her in weeks. Wh— Why do you care about that, anyway?”

“I saw you two. She kissed you. I know what comes after that, Sam, I’ve been around for thousands of years,” you continued. 

Sam shook his head. “She kissed me. And then, I pushed her off. I haven’t seen her since.”

You tilted your head. “Why did you do that?”

“ ‘Cause. I couldn’t do it,” he shrugged. 

“Why?”

“ I’m not into voyeurism,” he smirked. “I knew you were watching. I haven’t had sex with her since you showed up.”

You thought for a moment, realizing he was telling the truth. “Oh.” Was this feeling… relief?

Sam gave you a curious look, and you averted his gaze. “Why’d you wanna know?”

You shook your head. “Not important. How have you been these last few days?”

“Honestly?” He scratched the back of his neck. “Not good. The addiction… it’s, uh—”

“Bad?” you asked. 

“That’s putting it lightly.”

“I’m sorry,” you told him. 

“ ‘S not your fault,” Sam shrugged. 

“That is much different from what you told me when we first met,” you said. 

Sam snorted. “Yeah, I was angry then. Now, I know you.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you were surprised at the feeling. 

***

You hummed the tune of “In the Still of the Night” by the Five Satins, a song that Sam had introduced to you. 

The man in question sat at the cabin’s kitchen table hunched over his laptop. Sam had suggested you come inside with him since you’d be keeping an eye on him anyway. You told him if Ruby came, you’d kill her, but he just shook his head. “If she knows you’re here, she’s not coming,” he’d told you. 

“You’ve got a pretty voice,” Sam commented. 

You stopped humming. “Thank you. When the cherubs in my garrison were young, they liked when I’d sing to them.” You resumed your song. 

A few minutes went by before Sam spoke up. “Can I ask you something?” 

You stopped humming again and nodded. 

“Why haven’t you gone after Ruby yet?”

Before you could think, you answered, “Because I knew it would upset you.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Sam’s lips. “I appreciate that.”

You smiled in response. 

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile,” Sam told you. 

You continued to stare at him with your dewey doe eyes. 

“Can I ask you something else?” 

You nodded again.

“Whose body are you in?” he asked. 

You hummed as you thought. “I’ve been with her for centuries. She was being abused by her husband and begging for a way out. You see, angels have to get consent from their vessels. She wanted me to use her body to carry out my father’s mission.”

Sam nodded. 

“I quite enjoyed her company,” you continued. “I’ve never told any of my brothers or sister about this, but the day her soul moved on was the first time I ever felt something like… sadness.”

“So, angels, is it like demons where the vessel’s soul takes a back seat?” Sam questioned, his interest seeming very genuine. 

You shook your head. “Not with her, it wasn’t. She could force me out whenever she wanted, but she told me she preferred my company to that of her husband’s.”

Sam nodded but seemed pensive. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he replied. “It’s just… It’s a lot to take in.”

“I can understand that.” You paused for a moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever spent this long in the company of a human; aside from my vessel.”

“Really?” Sam asked.

You nodded. “I was taught not to spend time with the humans I was charged with. We were always told that the more time you spend with them, the more you become like them. And if you’re a human, you are flawed. You can’t  truly live in service of my father while human.” 

“That sounds kinda fucked up though, (Y/N),” Sam told you. “I mean, don’t you think it’s… restrictive? Limiting?”

You considered. “I guess so. But… I’m sure my father had good reason. He wouldn’t try to hurt us.” 

“I don’t think he would, either,” Sam told you. “But I do think he did that for self-serving reasons.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate. 

“He creates these… beings— you and the other angels— to bend to his every whim. Think about it. He makes you emotionless, so you don’t question his ‘will’ or… rebel,” Sam explained. “He needs you to be perfectly loyal.”

Sam’s words swirled around in your head. “You’re confusing me,” you said, breath quickening.

Sam shook his head. “I’m not trying to. But you’re smart. I’m just trying to make you think.”

“No human has ever challenged me the way you have,” you responded. “I appreciate it.”

“You do?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

You nodded. “I’ve been around a very long time. Things can get monotonous. It is… refreshing to meet someone like you.”

The corners of Sam’s lips turned upward.

The two of you went back to silence, and suddenly, Sam was up and running to the bathroom.

“Sam?” you asked, running after him.

When you got to him, he was hunched over the toilet bowl vomiting. 

Hesitantly, you reached toward him and began to rub small circles over his back. You remembered your vessel telling you that’s what she’d do to her children when they were sick. 

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “I’m here.”

When Sam was done, he slumped to the floor, curling up into a ball. Sweat covered every inch of his body, and he began to shake feverishly.

You knew it was the withdrawals from the blood after not seeing Ruby for days. You wanted nothing more than to help him through it, but your healing powers couldn’t assist with demonic workings of any kind. What you could do, though, is put him to sleep. You ran your hand over his hair and got up from the floor.

After grabbing a blanket off his bed, you brought it back to the bathroom and sat back down beside him. When you’d tossed the blanket over him, you helped Sam rest his head on your lap. Then, you went back to running your hand over the brunet’s hair and used your powers to put him to sleep. His shaking subsided, and his breathing relaxed. You stayed with him through the rest of the night.

***

When Sam woke up laying against you, he immediately seemed embarrassed. He jerked back from you. “Oh, uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you said. “It’s what I’m here for.”

Sam leaned forward hesitantly. He kept pausing as his face got closer to yours, seemingly to ensure you weren’t uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable wasn’t quite the word you’d use; there were a million thoughts running through your mind. And yet, you couldn’t string one coherent sentence together. 

You tilted your chin up, and it was all the confirmation Sam needed. His kiss was gentle when he first connected your lips. You responded, almost completely frozen, but still moving your lips in time with his.

Sam’s kiss got more desperate, and he pulled you across his lap, wrapping his large hands around your hips and back. 

And then, he was gone. You were confused only momentarily as you became aware of Zachariah’s presence in front of you.

“I know what you’ve been doing, (Y/N),” Zachariah chastised. 

You hung your head in shame. “I’m sorry, Zachariah. I let myself get too close to Sam Winchester, and—”

Zachariah cut you off. “Yes. You did. I’m disappointed in you.” He stalked around you, his multiple sets of wings encircling and taunting you. “You were one of my best, (Y/N). And now, I’m going to have to let you go.”

Your eyes widened, and you looked up at your superior. “Wait, please! I’m sorry!”

He patted your cheek. “I know you are. But you turned your back on us, (Y/N). You turned your back on our father.”

Tears welled in your eyes. 

“Ah! That. That, right there.” He caught the tear on his first finger as it slipped down your cheek. “Feeling. Feelings are human. You’ve changed, my dear sister.” 

“I’m sorry,” you cried softly. 

“I told you that Sam Winchester is a lost cause. I knew something like this would happen, but you? You didn’t listen. Goodbye, sister.”

And with that, you were sent barreling down to earth. The fall was incredibly painful; your wings feeling like they were being burnt off your body, each feather leaving ripples of searing heat in its wake. 

Nothing could stop you barreling toward the earth. The speed of your fall began to take a toll on you, and your vision faded to black. 

***

You woke up flat on your back in the middle of nowhere. Your limbs ached, and your vessel’s body was undoubtedly broken. Using your weakened powers, you healed your body enough to be able to stand. When you’d gotten your wits about you, you would heal yourself completely. 

You walked through the woods you’d landed in the middle of. The morning sun was still rising, the birds chirped, and light streamed through the trees. All at once, the reality of your situation hit you, and you cried.

You cried for your brothers and sisters you’d never see again; very few ever came to earth. You weren’t sure how you’d get to Sam without your wings, but you needed to see him. This feeling of need was still foreign to you, and you couldn’t decide if you liked how it felt.

All that time you’d spent in service of Heaven and of your father, and you were cast out as if you didn’t matter at all. You knew getting so close was wrong, but you hadn’t expected such harsh treatment. In all your years of being alive, you had never made a mistake. And after just one, you were kicked out? 

On the other hand, though, crying was freeing. Maybe Sam was right. Why would your father restrict you from feeling?

For a moment, the world was quiet. All you could hear was your soft sniffles, the birds chirping, and the wind rustling the leaves of the trees. You took a deep breath, and for the first time, life felt beautiful.

***

Sam was praying to you, and you had no way of responding to him. Slowly but surely, you were making your way back to him. You could feel his soul calling to you, and it only spurred you on to continue walking. As an angel, you had no need for sleep or eating. And so, you walked continuously for five days; each step making Sam’s essence grow stronger. You could feel yourself getting closer to him.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” you heard Sam calling to you. “I don’t know if you’re even still listening to me, but I’m sorry for scaring you off. I— I shouldn’t have done what I did. Just… come back. Please.”

It broke your heart that you couldn’t get to him sooner, and you mentally begged him to wait for you. 

And finally, on the sixth day, you found Sam’s cabin. Joy and relief flooded your chest, and you smiled widely. You ran through the front door, and Sam jerked out of his chair with his gun in hand. When he realized who you were, he dropped his gun to the floor in surprise. “(Y/N)?”

“Hello, Sam,” you smiled, tears rimming your eyes.

“Wh— What happened? Why’d you leave?” he asked.

“I didn’t. Zachariah brought me back to Heaven, and… he took my wings,” you explained, looking down at your shoes. 

Sam’s confused and angry stare turned to his familiar puppy-dog-eyed stare. “What, why?” 

“I’m a fallen angel now. I betrayed Heaven,” you responded.

“By doing what?” he asked. “I kissed you, you didn’t do anything.”

“Yes, I did,” you assured him, stepping closer to him. “I started to feel. And… feel for you.”

Sam’s soft gaze flooded your chest with warmth. He used his first two fingers to tilt your chin up toward his and closed the space between your lips. 

You and Sam weren’t perfect in any sense. But you would take whatever you two were over your shiny, hard, plastic, emotionless past. 

Forever taglist is open; series rewrite taglist is closed!

[dreamscapesofimagination]

Bedside Manner

A/N: I'm suffering through a cold right now and took the day off of work to die peacefully at home, and thought of this while in the bath attempting to "steam" my nostrils clear lol.

Summary: How Jiro takes care of you when you're sick.

Warnings: Fluffy, reader has a nasty cold, Jiro's sweet and i love him- kind of modeled after how my fiance has been taking care of me since being sick, established relationship but its kind of new?

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

You were a miserable sight, standing in the doorway before Jiro.

He took in your disheveled state- tangled hair, flushed cheeks but overall pale, glassy eyes, and your red nose.

"I'm here to do your health check- though it appears you are not well." his deep voice was matter of fact as he looked down at you, concern twinkling in his tired, ruby eyes.

"I'm gonna die before the year is up." your dramatic sigh was punctuated by a wracking cough.

Jiro rolled his eyes, gently pushing you inside so he could shut the door behind him.

"No, you're not. Sit." He gestured to a pew, and you lowered your shaky body down.

"Tell me about what you're experiencing," Jiro ordered while he got his tools out.

You sniffed, watching with hazy eyes.

"Yesterday my nose felt itchy but I assumed it was just allergies."

He hummed as he clipped a pulse-oximeter onto your index finger, indicating for you to continue.

"I woke up super early because i felt hot and was coughing. Since then my nose hasn't stopped running and I'm just so tired."

"Here, put this under your tongue." He held up a thermometer. You did as told, while he wrapped the blood pressure cuff around your arm.

After the thermometer beeped, he wrote down your vitals.

Putting on his stethoscope, he slipped it up your shirt, the cold metal causing you to shiver as it touched your feverish skin.

"Christ, Jiro, maybe warn me next time," you hissed, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend.

"Sorry." he didn't sound sorry at all.

You rolled your eyes, supressing a sneeze as he listened to your heartbeat.

Thankfully, the feeling faded as he slipped the stethoscope to your back.

"Deep breaths." he murmured, eyebrows furrowing as he listened intently.

He sat back on his haunches, hanging the stethoscope around his neck.

"I don't hear anything crackling in your lungs, so I'm fairly confident whats going on is upper respiratory based on your symptoms. Your heart rate was elevated, but I'm assuming that is due to the stethoscope and not illness."

You nodded as he spoke- it made sense because while you were coughing it didn't feel like it was a deep cough.

"So, what do you think it is?" you asked, sniffing again as you felt mucous begin to try and escape.

Jiro tilted his head, watching you closely.

"Probably a common cold and post-nasal drip."

"So, just fluids and rest, right? It's a virus so antibiotics would be useless." you said, settling back on the pew.

"Mostly right, I'm going to ask Yuri ti bring some symptomatic treatment from Mortkranken- pain killers, fever reducer, and a decongestant. I'll bring a cough supressant as well, but thats only if the coughing gets too severe. Overall, its best if you blow your nose because if you keep sniffing you will make the post-nasal drip worse."

Jiro stood, packing is bag and setting it to your side.

He pulled you to your feet, wrapping his arm around you.

"I'm going to get you back to bed, you need rest."

You didn't protest as he helped you up the stairs.

He pulled your blankets around you, tucking you in carefully.

You sank into the soft bedding, watching him with a small smile.

"I'll be downstairs waiting for Yuri if you need anything." Jiro said, finally satisfied with how he had you situated.

You frowned, "don't you have other health checks and things to do?"

Jiro tilted his head, "forgive me if I'm wrong, because I am new to the whole 'relationship' thing- but isn't one supposed to take care of their partner? Especially since I am one of the medical professionals on this campus."

You watched him carefully as he continued.

"Another student can take some of my responsibilities for today, and I do enough for Yuri that he can manage without me for a day," he gently stroked your cheek, "you take priority as my girlfriend, which isn't entirely logical but its the truth."

You smiled, "I guess I can't complain if it means I get you to myself the whole day." You flailed, pulling the blankets down enough to make extra room.

"Since I'm so sick and you said I take priority, I'm cold and I think I'd feel so much better if you were to hold me."

Jiro raised an eyebrow at your antics as you coughed, groaning as it ended.

"See? I'll die if you don't."

He laughed, rolling his eyes as he slipped off his shoes.

"Awfully dramatic for someone with a cold." he remarked, carefully sliding into bed with you.

You nestled into his chest, closing your eyes in satisfaction.

"Yeah, but being dramatic means I get to sleep on you, so I'll keep being dramatic"

You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled at you.

"Just rest. I'll get you up when Yuri is here with the medications."

"Mm" you hummed, feeling yourself doze off, finally feeling warm enough.

Sure, Jiro was still getting accustomed to dating, but he was doing his best and he made you happy- and when you need him, he was there with no reservations.

[tifaisms]

RWBY and Trauma

So, i want to talk a little bit about RWBY. Specifically, with regards to its thematic storytelling. I think I made a post about this a few days ago but im gonna make a longer one here.

RWBY tackles a lot of themes in its storytelling. Death, grief, fear, trust, etc. to name a few.

One of the bigger themes is "keep moving forward", which was also Monty's motto. It is exemplified through the characters, both heroes and villains, and how they handle trauma and suffering.

The villains have pretty much all suffered. Salem, Cinder, Hazel, Mercury, Emerald, Roman, Neo, even Watts, all suffered. They experienced trauma, and hardship, and it shaped them.

The big difference between them and team RWBY is that they cannot move forward. Where team RWBY learn to grow and change. Salem couldn't accept loss, and grief, and instead turned those emotions to anger, same with Hazel, Adam, Neo, they all refused to move beyond their trauma. Yang put it pretty well in V8 - all this death and destruction because something bad happened to you once upon a time?

Trauma is inevitable. But the difference between the heroes and the villains is how their trauma impacts them going forward. And not just in a "the villains react negatively and the heroes don't" because Ruby reacted poorly, as did Blake, and Weiss in the early volumes. Qrow drinks to deal with it, and Ozpin let the betrayal he experienced define him.

The difference here is that the heroes try to grow and stop making their suffering everyone else's problem. You cannot use your trauma to justify lashing out at the world and other people. I think Kratos in God of War put it quite well - "Do not be sorry. Be better." You can't hurt people because you are traumatised, because all that does is traumatise everyone else. It isn't a justification for lashing out. Salem was traumatised, and she murdered so many people, and traumatised a bunch of other people, who will only continue that cycle.

It is worth noting that some of the antagonists do grow and change and become better. Ilia, Emerald, Hazel, and Neo are the big examples. They were all hurt by the world, and they turned to anger and violence. But Ilia is convinced by Blake that it isn't what she wants, and Blake is right. So Ilia turns away from that path. Hazel and Emerald both change and grow, and whilst Hazel gets the noble sacrifice, Emerald has to make amends for hurting people by being and doing better, and trying to make a positive impact on the world. And Neo had an entire arc culminating in her seeking revenge, and getting it, and realising that it was a hollow victory that left her with nothing but directionless grief and anger. When she had nothing to pursue, she was forced to confront the fact that she was just running from her actual feelings and lashing out. In the end, she chooses to go to the tree willingly, which is essentially willingly giving in to change and growth, because that's what the tree does.

The central conflict of the show is essentially that everyone has suffered, and experienced trauma. But it is the hero's ability and desire to grow beyond it and be better, so that they stop hurting the people around them, that sets them apart from the villains, who refuse to keep moving forward and instead just let their suffering infect everyone else, perpetuating an endless cycle of violence and conflict.

[aihoshiino]

chapter 165 thoughts

Aqua Hoshigan Status: It's Officially Hoshinover

Chapters Until The Story Ends Without The 143 Kiss Being Addressed Or Acknowledged: 1

damn i guess they really did just kill his ass

I'm gonna be so real with you gamers, I kind of don't have a lot to say about this one either lol. Which I acknowledge sounds completely wild given the Everything that happens in it, but most of my meat and potatoes analysis in these reviews comes from breaking down characterization and we're flying through everything at such breakneck pace that we're barely getting any characterization.

It continues to drive me bugfuck insane that Ai is completely absent from this finale despite the importance of 15 Year Lie. Its imagery is plastered all over but whenever we return to it, we just see Aqua. Not only that, but Gotanda is the one who insists on pushing the movie through for Aqua. 15YL as a story about Ai's true self and her tragedy is now officially taking a backseat to being about Aqua's tragic death and legacy. It was already bad enough that we spent so much time in the Movie Arc not actually focusing on Ai to the extent that, as everyone pointed out, based on what we saw on-page it was basically a Sad Kamiki Movie, but this really is just pissing right in the wound at this point lmao.

The funeral scene also serves as the final nail in the coffin for any Secretly Alive Aqua copes, which is kind of a relief. I still don't like how Aqua's death played out, but I think dragging it out for four chapters then going "sorry you thought i was /srs when i was just /jk" would have been infinitely more insulting. I don't like this ending, but I can respect that Akasaka seems to be sticking to his guns on it, even if we still do have like a whole chapter left for him to whip around and go "I WAS /JK ALL ALONG!!!!" but I don't see it happening.

Anyway, yeah! The funeral! Uh. Is it gonna sound weird if I say I felt kind of like… grossed out reading this the first time? Like, I really don't know how else to explain the visceral "why the fuck is the author making me read this" reaction I had to it. I think it's just because Kana is so fucking distraught here and the drama is just so hammy and so over the top that it feels kind of… ech. I dunno. I just really didn't vibe.

It doesn't help that this is part of a much broader pattern in the back half of OnK of Aka getting us right up close into the gory details of a character's complete mental breakdown and suffering and then spend zero time or focus on their recovery. This happened with Ruby all over the Movie Arc and this many times and with this little runway to the end of the series, it just starts to feel exploitative, like a way to cheaply pull at our heartstrings without doing the work to build everyone back up after tearing them down.

also pre-emptively dreading all the fuel this is going to add to the fires of People Who Are Weird And Misogynistic About Kana but she could die saving innocent children from a burning building and people would find reasons to be shitty about her lmao

we really are not seeing ruby's reaction to finding out her brother was dead huh lol

I will say the one thing I didn't Actively Dislike about this chapter was Ruby, though. I was honestly starting to get pretty skeeved out with how many people were gleefully predicting or actively wishing for her immediate suicide purely for ship motivated reasons and I was also worrying that the story was going to pretend that Ruby doesn't like. Have a life and support system outside of Aqua. Yes, she should absolutely be affected by his death but this period of her shutting down only to drag herself back onto her feet that we seem to be getting feels way more in line with pre-Movie Arc flanderization Ruby and I'll take that W where I can get it.

god. I haven't even talked about Kamiki's supposed serial killer cult. I just don't have the strength. Like… that's self-evidently stupid, right? I don't need to explain to you why that's ridiculous and unbelievable? You don't need me to tell you why it's fucking crazy that we're getting this information about the alleged overarching antagonist of the series not only in the second-to-last chapter of the entire series but after he was already dead, right? We can just move on? Ok good. jesus christ.

FINAL CHAPTER NEXT WEEK…

[redjademilktea]

I've talked about this before, but with the final episode of Downfall and the Cooldown that followed it I feel the need to write about it again.

The morality of saving the gods of Exandria was never going to be clear cut. Stopping Ludinus, stopping the Ruby Vanguard maybe. But there's an important conversation to be had about the nature of divinity that needs to be had. And Downfall makes this discourse more salient and pressing than it's ever been.

I really liked what Brennan brought up in the Cooldown, about "achieving enlightenment on their terms," or suffer the fate of "not being able to understand." The gods as they exist have protected and will continue to protect the way of being that allows for their continued existence. They dismiss anything that challenges that existence - anything that makes them confront the nature of mortality, as Brennan elegantly phrased it - as something not worth considering. As something that simply doesn't grasp what one needs to grasp to do what must be done.

And if doing what must be done means calling a truce in their great war. If that means collaborating with the very siblings on the opposing side of that conflict, which has led to so much loss of mortal life and desecration of the face of Exandria, then so be it. It has to be done. We are mere children, we wouldn't understand.

I'm reminded of Ann Stoler in her book "Along the Archival Grain," along with Avery Gordon's "Ghostly Matters." Both authors talk about the lengths and extents colonial states go to legitimate and justify their existence through the policing and curation of knowledge. It is in the best interest of the colonial state to produce and maintain knowledge that justifies its being. They are doing what they do because they define it to be right, to be just.

And those contradictions? The holes in colonial logic born out of the anxieties and fears of losing that legitimacy? Those inconsistencies that necessitate their reproduction and continued existence? Poor child, you do not understand. It is the right thing to do. There are things at play that are beyond fathoming for you. It simply must be this way. It is right for it to be this way. Fallicies and contradictions in colonial logic become justified and legitimated via the production of knowledge produced from the colonial archive to reproduce itself.

The knowledge of the divine killing weapon. The people, the complex, ephemeral, fleeting, textured, beautiful, pained, vibrant lives of those that held that knowledge. That knowledge that was spread to touch every soul on that floating city. All of it could not persist. For them to persist would mean the possibility of the way things are, the way things are ought to be from those who know better, could come to an end.

So it must be this way. The city must fall, despite its infinite arcane beauty. Lives must be lost, and so too must their chance for redemption, for a new beginning. All things must come to an end, if that means preserving the infinite. Family must persist. *They* must persist. And so it must be this way.

I say all this to highlight the fact that the morality underlying the theme of this campaign is not clear cut. The nature of it prevents that. The members of Bells Hells are not good or bad because some of them remain ambivalent to the existence of the gods. No single one of them is inherently right or wrong.

But you cannot argue there is a "right" answer when it comes to the gods. They simply are. Much like anything simply is. And what their existence means, especially for what it means to the lives of mortals on Exandria who must suffer the consequences of that divine existence, must be reckoned with.

I really am impressed with the bold scope of thematic ideas that Campaign 3 introduces and continues to grapple with. It is phenomenal story telling, and is strikingly resonant with the enmeshed struggles that permeate the very real world that informs the lives and experiences of its creators. All of them continue to blow me away every Thursday night!

[spahhzy]

My I request more dragon slayer angst. Maybe a bit of unrequited love

*I'm finally getting to these*

Ruby: Yang?

Ruby entered the bar looking for her sister... she heard a couple of folk saying they saw a young woman with yellow hair come to this bar.

Walking up to the bar, she spoke to one of the bar tenders.

Ruby: Hi, uhm, have you seen this person? *shows a picture of Yang*

Bartender: Yeah... she's currently hammered playing pool at table 13.

Ruby nodded and slipped the bartender some lien for the help and went on her way.

???: Again!

???: Again? Listen lady... that like the 10th game in a row I've beaten you... maybe you should lay off the alcohol and -

???: I said AGAIN.

???: Alright alright sheesh...

Ruby made it to the table to see her sister, drunk, clumsily racking the balls before backing away from the table as the gentleman she was playing against made his break.

Ruby: Yang?

Yang just turned her head and waved at her sister.

Yang: Hiya Ruubes!

Ruby: What are you doing?

The gentlemen broke, and the balls spread out amongst the table, none making a pocket, leaving the table open for her.

Yang: Ah, you know... I'm just playing some pool.

As she says this, she stroked her pool stick into the cue ball, letting it roll until it struck the yellow 1 object ball.

Ruby: You missed Jaune's party...

Yang: Yeah... just wasn't my style, you know? Hey, wanna drink?

Yang offered her a shot glass, to which Ruby declined as her sister shrugged her shoulders and downed the liquid before she leaned across the pool table and sunk another solid.

Yang: Ya know, sis, I am finally able to see why Jaune liked this game so much, such a calm but tense game.

Yang reached over and hit the cue ball again, watching as it hit another of her solids, sinking it into a low corner pocket.

Yang grabbed another shot and downed it quickly before continuing her turn as she sunk another solid.

Ruby: I think you've had enough shots, Yang.

Yang: Nonsense! The night is still young, and I'm celebrating Jaune's party in true Yang fashion.

Ruby: By playing pool and drinking yourself to death?

Yang just rolled her eyes.

Yang: Do I lecture you on how to party?

Ruby: That's because the Yang i know is always the life of said party...this isn't a party it's just you and the bottle.

Yang didn't say anything as she reached over and once again sunk another solid, leaving her just one before the 8ball.

Ruby: I know you're hurting Yang, but this-

Yang just let out a drunken mirthless laugh.

Yang: You don't know anything Ruby...you have Oscar, Weiss has Emerald, and Blake has Sun...

Ruby: Yang...

Yang: But who does Yang have!? No one! The one guy who i really liked, who I've tried flirting with, giving him signs, and who he even taught me how to play this game is getting married.

Leaning over, she hit her final solid into pocket, leaving her with her last ball, the 8ball.

Yang: What were all those times we shared together? Did it mean nothing to him? How was she just able to walk back into his life and take him from me! Why wasn't I enough!

In her anger, she hit the 8 ball too hard, causing her cue ball to go careening in a different direction, and at the same time, both the cueball and 8ball had both fell into the pocket.

She lost again.

Yang just collapsed into a seat as she stared sadly at the ceiling lights.

Yang: I just wanted to be enough for him...

And with that, Yang fell asleep, with tears running down her face.

The dragon had been defeated, finally lost after suffering a broken heart.

Ruby looked at the other gentleman.

Ruby: I think you should go.

The man nodded, not needing to be told twice as Ruby called Oscar, advising him to get the spare bedroom ready, as she wouldn't leave her sister alone when she needed someone.

-

I leave the mystery of who Jaune is marrying up to you.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Burn

My heart always hurts when I watch the cutscene where Astarion burns under the sun. Dammit Larian Studios

Summary: You chase after Astarion when he runs away from the rising sun and remind him that you chose him.

You watch as blue lines crawl across his skin, steam rising as the sun eats away at him once more, now that he is free of the parasite. You hear the panic and sadness in his voice as reality sets in — he is no longer immune to the sun, condemned forever to live in the shadows. His ruby red eyes lift to meet yours as his skin scorches, an apology falling from his lips and he rushes to find shelter before you can say anything.

“Astarion!” You shout, watching his fading figure. He doesn’t look back, of course he doesn’t, he doesn’t have the time to when all he can think about is how his skin is searing. Your other companions remain rooted but your legs find an extra burst of energy and soon you find yourself hot on your lover’s trail, desperate to find him.

“Astarion!” You call out, panting from the exertion. Running like that just after defeating a Netherbrain was not a good idea, and you can feel your head spinning. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to steady yourself and lean against the nearby wall, getting as much air into your lungs as possible.

“Astarion,” you gasp, forcing yourself to keep moving, telling yourself that the vampire was suffering more than you were. You stagger onwards, barely remembering where you last saw him and pray that he hasn’t gotten far.

You make your way to a stack of crates hidden behind a docked ship and find a figure huddled in the corner, shaking. You stumble towards the figure, fingers hastily fumbling for the clasp of your cloak which you throw around the figure’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Star,” you breathe, relieved. You feel his arms slide around your waist tentatively, cautiously hugging you back.

“Why are you here?” He whispers. The scent of your lifeblood fills his nose, causing fangs to peek out but he holds himself back, holds the hunger back.

“For you, of course.” You continue to hold onto him tightly. “I’m not leaving you alone, not ever.”

“Why?” He can feel you, feel your warmth, your touch, but a part of him still nags at him, trying to convince him that this is all just a dream, that you want nothing to do with him, not when he is confined to the darkness. He runs his fingers through your hair, taking in the fact that you’re here with him, that you came for him when you could be out in the new dawn with the others.

“Why? Because I love you, I’m hopelessly in love with you and I don’t want a future without you.” Your fingers ghost over the burns, an ache in your heart when you see how badly the sun has burnt him. Even as the sun scorched him, he still took the time to apologise, to look you in the eye, to tell you of how much he enjoyed the journey.

“Even if it means being unable to live in the day? Being unable to feel the sun on your skin?” The words cause a lump to form in his throat. He wants to push you away, tell you to find someone else, someone better. You deserve so much better than whatever he can give you, you deserve to be able to live with the sun warming your skin, you deserve —

“Yes. I know what it means to be in a relationship with you, I know it means never seeing the sun again, never feeling its warmth, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” The fierce fire he fell in love with back then burns in your eyes, daring him to deny you your choice and he feels himself falling for you all over again.

Your devotion to the people you care about, the lengths you would go for each of them, the love you had for those around you. He had once found all these traits foolish, but now they were his saving line, the reason you were currently kneeling by his side, tenderly caressing the rough burnt skin of his cheek as you firmly declared your intent to remain by his side for the rest of your life.

You pull the cloak over his head and shoulders, ensuring they cover as much of his skin as possible.

“I look terrible, don’t I?” He gives a hollow laugh.

“And yet still so beautiful. It’s not fair how you can pull that off.” You chuckle, tilting your head to offer your neck to him.

“Drink up,” you say with a smile so bright it blinds him. “Then we’ll head back to Elfsong Tavern and discuss what to do next.”

He tugs at the cloak around him. It smells of you, the scent deep and warm. He buries himself in it, grateful for the protection it provides and gently rests his lips against your bare neck. His fangs prick your skin, and then dig deeper as blood begins to flow into his mouth. The cracking blue lines on his skin start to fade, his usual pale likeness coming back as he drinks your precious lifeblood, savouring every drop freely given.

“Thank you,” he whispers against your neck.

“Anytime,” you murmur back, holding him close. It always brings a sense of comfort, feeling him in your embrace, breathing in his scent. You hold him for a while longer, basking in the feeling of his cold undead skin against your warm living skin until the others find the both of you.

Your group makes its way back to Elfsong Tavern while shielding Astarion from the sun’s rays. The walk is filled with a quiet yet comfortable silence, exhaustion from the day’s fight and thoughts of the future that lay ahead setting in.

Everyone files into their own rooms, leaving you and Astarion standing in the corridor, facing one another.

“You really mean it?” He asks. He has to confirm, he has to make sure that he is making the right decision to entrust a part of his future to you.

“Mean what?” You tilt your head quizzically.

“That you don’t mind staying with me.” He shifts his weight from one leg to another, playing the corners of the cloak over his head.

“I mean it. We’ll find a way to get you walking in the sun again, and if we cannot, then I don’t mind spending the rest of my life in the shadows.” You take his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly. “You’re all I need, you’re all I want in this future of my choosing. I hope I’m in the future you choose as well.”

In the future he chooses? He…oh right. Cazador is dead, there is no master to tell him what to do, to control his every move. He can decide what he wants to do next, where he wants to go, who he chooses to spend his time with.

And he wants to spend it all with you.

“Of course you are, my love. There’s no one else I’d rather have.” He flashes his usual smile, eyes softening at the way you light up upon hearing his words.

“Then…let’s start planning it, together.”

“Together.” He agrees, liking the way his new future sounds. Even if he had to skulk in the shadows for eternity, maybe such a life wasn’t so bad with you around. He would have you to wake up to, be able to hold you, be loved by you, even if he had to burn under the sun.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

[howlingday]

Arcs Don't Get Cancer

A sad Shark!Faunus Jaune story.

Weiss: Ruby Rose, how many times do I have to tell you to stop using my hairbrush?!

Ruby: But Weiss, it's cushy to hold onto~!

Weiss: And I told you over and over again to buy your own!

Ruby: But Weiss~!

Blake: (Hears knocking, Answers) Hello, Ren.

Yang: If you want, you can use my hairbrush.

Ren: Good evening, Blake. Is your leader with you?

Ruby: That's Zwei's dog brush!

Yang: Never said it was for my hair~.

Blake: ...Yes, she is. Are you looking for her?

Ren: No, but... Have any of you seen Jaune?

Blake: Not for a while. (Turns) Has anyone seen Jaune?

Weiss: I haven't.

Yang: Nope!

Ruby: We've been pretty busy with missions this month. Shouldn't he be with his team?

Ren: He should, but we haven't seen him and we're worried.

Blake: Where did you last see him?

Ren: He was walking out of our dorm.

Ren: Just after you left for your mission this month.

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

The following may be disturbing for some readers. Literary discretion is advised. I'll allow you time to prepare before clicking "Keep Reading". Once you are ready, you may continue...

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Jaune awoke to a burning, itching feeling in his arm. He groaned, desperately trying to fall back to sleep, but the darkness would take him no longer. Now, there was only the light and the horrors it revealed around him.

"Good morning, Mr. Shark." A man said with a smile, but there was no joy to be shared in it. No, the grin on his face was as empty of emotion as his lab coat was of color. "How is your recovery going?"

Jaune could only whimper in response. That was all the strength he had to do anymore.

"You'll be happy to know that your pain is not in vain." The man gave a chuckle, clearly delighting in his own wit. "Our company's product, of which your contribution plays no small part in, has brought comfort to patients in hospitals and clinics all over Atlas. At this rate, we'll be able to expand and help people in other kingdoms!"

A chill ran up his spine as his mind ached. How could his bones do the things they say? There were no medicinal properties to the fingers, toes, and rib he's had surgically removed. Though his body was numbed to the furthest extent it could be, he could still vividly remember the cracking, the snapping, the ripping done to his body as more and more of him was taken under the knife.

"Doctor?" A woman in lab coat called from the end of the room. Jaune looked to her direction and saw the bloody bandages that were used to patch his wound. "Here are the X-rays you requested." The woman approached with a clipboard, extending it to the man. She had a giddy look on her face. "It seems our hypothesis was correct! His bones replaced themselves~!"

There was a beeping sound that increased frequency that Jaune only took notice now. It was his heart that was beating so fast. Even as his skull throbbed with the pain his brain recalled, he understood the coming fear of his body being harvested over and over again. All to make lien off his suffering.

"Doctor," The man chided, "please remember your bedside manner when in the same room as a patient."

The woman pursed her lips with a blush while the man opened the folder, smiling at the sheet in front of him. He brought it over to a hanging board, placing it snugly against the blank surface. Flicking on the light, Jaune saw the horrible truth in the woman's words.

He felt his broken hand burn as he looked on to the small, regrowing bone in his finger. The pain resonated in his toes, where too he had been harvested. His heart beat like a drum as his chest blazed like an inferno at his broken rib being replaced.

"Doctor," the woman whispered, thinking Jaune wouldn't be able to hear her, "what would have happened if they didn't grow back?"

The man hummed for a moment, looking back to Jaune, who shut his eyes and tried to fall back asleep, hoping this too was just a horrible dream. He didn't even try to keep his voice low. "Then we clean up shop. All our research purged, and all medical equipment disposed of."

"And the patient?"

"Silence." The woman covered her mouth. The man pulled the X-rays free and slid them back into the folder. "Take these to the director. He'll want to see the results for himself." The woman hurriedly exited from the room. The man walked up to Jaune, dragging a finger along his thigh. "Hm... The femoral will be tricky, but the reward will be so worth it." He then left without saying another word.

Jaune felt hot tears pour from his eyes, his spine completely iced over with fear. He wanted to scream at the injustice of his body being ripped apart for a suspected cure, but he feared whatever intentional punishment that would be brought down on him. As he grit his teeth, he had one thought...

'Save me... Ruby...'

Fun Fact! In 1992, "Sharks Don't Get Cancer," a book written by I. William Lane and Linda Cormac was published with the claim that shark cartilage, due to the rarity of sharks developing cancer, could hold the cure for cancer. However, sharks do get cancer, and this fact has been known for almost 150 years, yet companies still harvest shark body parts from living sharks to this day. As a result, Sharks Don't Get Cancer has been more devastating to sharks as a species than JAWS, which inspired newfound fear of sharks. Worse yet, the method of harvesting include cutting off shark body parts before tossing the still alive shark back into the ocean to drown.

[reriart]

maybe it’s the tav I’m currently playing but I am so fixated on a tav absolutely convinced Astarion does not find her attractive despite the obvious, him sleeping with her x2, openly complimenting her etc etc and that leading too sloppy, emotional sex between the two, what do you think?

Dear anon,

thank you so much for asking me, I hope you'll like it! Since I suffer from body dysmorphia, I thought I'd put this topic inside the fic, I hope it's ok for you!

Let me worship you

Tags/CW: +18 MDNI, afab Tav, very smut, body dysmorphia, plus size tav, depression and panic attacks, Tav is a bit insecure and jealous, oral and piv sex, body worshipping, Astarion is a lil angry, tadpole connection, the infamous knee, Astarion is both dom and sub here.

English is not my native language. Link to AO3.

Divider by @cafekitsune

‘What's wrong with me?’

That question keeps buzzing in your head, loud as if you had a wasp nest right in your skull instead of a tadpole.

‘Why can't I be as beautiful like them?’

The knot in your stomach makes the bowl of fruit porridge Gale prepared, now in your hands, appear heavy and uninviting. The scent of apples, enticing until moments before, makes you nauseous.

Your gaze rests first on Lae'zel, then on Shadowheart and finally on Karlach. The toned body of the githyanki, the refined beauty of the half-elf, the marble muscles of the tiefling.

Then you observe yourself: your soft belly, your scarred skin, your ruined nails. Your right hand touches your round cheek, your hair loosely tied back. You try to push back the tears and you are out of breath, heart beating faster. You look up and notice Astarion's ruby-red ones staring back at you, one eyebrow raised and jaw clenched.

‘Apologies,’ you say, standing up sharply, your voice louder than expected. ‘I think I'll go for a swim. Sorry Gale, I don't have much of an appetite.’

‘Don't worry, if you get hungry again I'll cook you something later,’ he replies, his round, soft eyes barely concealing concern. This is the third time this week you've skipped meals because of your anxiety attacks.

The others continue chatting, but as you leave the camp, you feel eyes hovering over your back.

With almost painful slowness, you reach the small beach behind the rocks. Wyll and Karlach are laughing as Gale rambles on about something as usual - you don't catch the words as you undress, but you can sense the lightness of their conversation, a conversation you would like to witness and laugh about, too.

But the voice in your head - and not your prismatic friend's one - but your own, the darker side of you, only complains. ‘You've gained weight’, “you're horrible”, “Astarion will leave you”.

You don't really know how to define the relationship between you and him. You haven't declared eternal love for each other or who knows what, and you're pretty sure he's simply using you as a walking blood bag and easy sex.

Probably, after every night spent together, he has done nothing but whine about you.

The thought of the vampire mocking your feelings is the catalyst that finally triggers your tears. You feel them, warm against your skin, silently sliding down to your lips.

You lick one away, and wipe the rest with the back of your hand.

Your foot treads the water, trying to sense whether the temperature is acceptable or not. It is a little cold, actually, but perhaps that is just what you need right now. You glide silently through the small, dark waves, which wrap around you like a blanket. You put your head under the water, inhibiting all external noises.

You have always loved water. There, you do not feel the weight of your body, you do not see it for what it is, and when you sink, then all contact with the outside world disappears. You let gravity bring your body to the surface, and you spread your arms wide. You gaze at the moon, full and pale, wishing to be just a tiny dot in the sky.

Your vision blurs with tears and you close your eyes, letting the gentle rhythm of the water lull you.

Just as you are about to open your eyes again, you feel claws grab your shoulder and you're about to scream, but a hand blocks any sound you try to make. You notice two red irises staring at you and pointed ears peeping out from a cloud of silver hair.

‘Astarion, what the heck, you scared the hell out of me!’ you mutter as soon as you free your lips. ‘I didn't hear you coming.’

‘That was the point,’ he replies, oddly serious, his flirty, sassy façade strangely lacking. ‘We need to talk.’

Your heart jumps back to your throat once more as anxiety assails you. You spin around so that you are back on your feet and turn to face him.‘Is something wrong?

Do you need blood? I haven't eaten and I don't have much strength, but if you…’

‘That's the point,’ he snips sharply, his gaze as piercing as one of his daggers. ‘And I'm not talking about the blood. Why aren't you eating?’

It is not the first time Astarion has asked this: it had already happened in the past few days, yet he seemed more concerned. Now… he looks almost furious.

‘I'm not hungry, okay?"

‘No, it's not okay,’ he replies dryly, his thick white eyebrows wrinkling his forehead.

‘What, are you afraid your roaming snack has no more blood for you?’ The answer escapes your lips in a tone between ironic and hysterical and you roll your eyes. ‘Don't worry, as you can clearly see I'm not starving, and I'm sure you won't have any of these problems either while I'm around.’

Astarion's eyes grow big with astonishment and you see him step back, as far as he can, into the water.

‘Is… is that what you think you are to me? A snack?’ His voice is broken, bitter. ‘Do you value what's between us so poorly?’

The feelings of guilt and anger grow in tandem. ‘Tell me, Astarion, is it not the truth? Perhaps I am the only thing vaguely fuckable and edible h-’

His lips crash against yours as he grasps both your cheeks with his hands and brings them to himself. You hear a low, violent growl resonate in his ribcage as his tongue creeps out to seek yours. His fingers then sink into your hair, leaving you breathless.

Holding you close, he pulls his mouth away just far enough to whisper Inveniam viam. In the blink of wings, you find yourself on the beach.

‘I didn't know Misty Steps also worked on…’

‘Don't change the topic,’ he growls against your ear. Suddenly, you realise the dangerous proximity. The magic of the water has vanished, your body - what you hate most in the world - once again exposed to the moon's glow. You look around, searching hopelessly for your clothes.

'Eyes. On. Me.’ he orders, and for a second you feel yourself shiver as his icy hand grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

‘Now listen carefully.’

You swallow and nod a shy yes with your head after he let you go.

‘You're seeing yourself as a monster again, is that true?’ he asks, stroking one cheek with the back of his hand. ‘Because of the way you look.’

‘Don't you? Look at me, Astarion. You could have anyone. You have a lot of opportunities.’

He pinches the back of his nose with his fingers and inhales. ‘… And to think it must be a monster to make you see the reality of things! But I suppose there's no other way.’

His lips are on you again, but this time it's different. You see yourself from Astarion's point of view and you feel everything he feels: your soft lips, your skin hot to the touch, your sighs, the accelerated beating of your heart, the intense smell of your blood that, despite being well protected by your veins, only urges him back…

‘Let me show you how it is for me,’ he whispers, as your foreheads touch. ‘Because, darling, I assure you, you are far from reality.’

You feel like you're in a dream, made up of fragments. The moonlight is much brighter to his sight, and the sounds of nature amplified. He pulls you onto the beach, kissing you. You feel his tongue exploring you, the warmth pleasantly welcoming his body.

He inhales your scent and you feel like it smells like flowers, even though you have never sensed anything like it. ‘A rich bouquet, which I never tire of.’

He runs down your neck, kissing it languidly and licking it. ‘I can't get enough of you, and I'm not just talking about your blood.’

His teeth find your nipples; your brain is split between the pleasure you feel yourself, and his one when he sucks and nibbles on the turgid tips. He sinks his face between your soft, generous, warm breasts, and inevitably can't help himself, bringing a hand to his erection. You feel the exquisite liquid warmth work its way into both of your bellies, his breathing shuddering as he squeezes his cock and thrusts his pelvis into his fist. You feel how excited he is to see you at his mercy, lying on the sand, eyes glazed over and heart on the verge of bursting.

The thought makes you suddenly tighten your legs, partly out of shyness, partly to fill the void, seeking a gentle friction. ‘A-astarion, I will hurt you…’

The elf laughs, and pulls you to him with supernatural strength. ‘My dear, I am a vampire. It takes more than that to hurt me,’ he replies with a grin on his face, taking you by the hips until he finds his nose peeping against your clit. He wastes no more time, pushing you down, impaling you with his tongue unceremoniously.

You pant and tremble, feeling your taste on his tongue through the connection, his fervid excitement growing and growing.

He really can't get enough of you, if he could he would become one with you from how insane his desire is. He licks you, tongue-fucking you, until you begin to unleash yourself. You grab his hair and push your pussy against his mouth, riding him.

‘That's it, my dear. Take control, fuck yourself with my tongue,’ you hear in your mind. ‘Be glorious while you do it, give me all of yourself.’

And so you do. You let yourself go, drunk with your own and Astarion's excitement. You see the scene from his eyes: the moist glistening of your clit, swollen and ready to climax, breasts dancing with every movement.

‘Fuck Astarion, I want you,’ you gasp. Reluctantly, you pull away from him for a moment, but only to turn around. You take his long, pale cock in your mouth and he returns to licking you greedily. You take him all the way down your throat, moaning, feeling the salty taste on your tongue and at the same time the sweet taste on you. Only wet sounds and moans can be heard, as you fuck each other. Your heart has never raced so fast, full of a new pride.

Astarion truly sees you as a divinity, the emblem of the very life he so dearly misses.

You are so wet that you feel Astarion swallowing several times, drinking your pleasure like wine, until he gives an arrow-accurate lapping on your pearl, making you see stars. Your mouth is still full of his cock so you can't scream as he continues to tongue fuck you as you come again, again and again.

Then, he grabs you by the hips and slams you down, entering you with disarming ease. You feel your mind fall apart but at the same time you see you beneath him, his hands encircling your red cheeks. ‘You are… so beautiful that you make me feel alive.’

His strokes become more and more imprecise, so wet you can feel that liquid pleasure inside you. ‘Gods, fuck, I'm going to cum. I want to come inside you,' he begs. ‘Pretty please.’

You whisper a ‘yes’, holding him to you as he moans your name. You feel his seed fill you and at the same time you feel his orgasm as if it were your own. You kiss him again, again and again, until your pleasure swarms.

‘Please look at yourself every day in the mirror as if you were doing it with my eyes. And if you can't, I will help you, day after day.’

You smile, as you believe in yourself a little more.