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nineblooddances-if · 11 months ago

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NINE BLOOD DANCES

Nine Moons for the Nine Circles of Hell

Ruled by Nine Siblings. Or better known as the Commanders of Hell. Each believed to carry a role in the natural world and each a leader of the Devil’s Army. Each Commander is the personification of their circle and is made with a part of The Devil’s Body.

His Brain. His Genitals. His Stomachs. His Lungs. His Eyes. His Tongues. His Flesh. His Ears. And lastly his heart.

With each part, combined with that of a woman of a different species, flourished the consciousness of the circle, and then from a piece of the circle, a body was molded, creating each commander.

Yet with no one to rule over them.

For the Devil has many things to do and does not have the time to watch over the things he created. So, he gets an idea. A funny idea.

For he wishes not to strip himself of more. So, he goes to a mortal man. One who knew all that of the world, a man who had everything that the mortal heart could desire. Expect love–Yes love. For there is a difference between idolization and obsession and honest love. The mortal man had not that, and so the Devil laughed and lured this man to his death. And when no one showed genuine care for the man at his funeral, he fell into despair.

And the Gods who refused to hear his prayers before now stared upon him and pitied him. And sent the mortal man a gift in order to ease the loneliness.

A gift the Devil needs.

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

✶ [DEMO]

✶ [PATREON]

✶ [KO-FI]

✶ [DISCORD]

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You were a gift. Now to whom? No one knows.

All that matters is that you are a gift and not like any of the others of your species. Uniqueness and importance oozes from every fiber of your being. You're important. Everyone says you're important. But why you're so important?

Who knows?

You must figure out what makes you so special and different. You must figure out what drives you through all circles. And you have to figure out why the nine commanders of Hell all have their eyes upon you and wish to have you by their side.

All before the fall of the ninth moon.

☽☽✶☾☾ Customizable MC

✶ [Name, Species(human, fallen angel, vampire, succubus/incubus, etc), Personality, Gender, Pronouns] ✶ [Appearance (markings, scars, wings, tails, horns, ears, etc), Traits, Love Language, Allergies, Diet, Piercings, Aesthetics, and more]

☽☽✶☾☾ Ability to have certain traits, likes, and disabilities

✶[Favorite Foods, Smoking/Drinking Habits, & More] ✶[ADHD, OCD, Depression + more] ✶[Hearing Aids, Prosthetic Arms or Legs, and choosing how you lost your limb]

☽☽✶☾☾ Options that have an effect on romantic and platonic relationships.

☽☽✶☾☾ Choose between nine romanceable Love Interests or None at All.

☽☽✶☾☾ Stats, Personality, and MC Characteristics that will affect the story and characters.

[Harem Route & Poly Routes Optional]

| IMPORTANT VIEWINGS OF CERTAIN FEATURES | ✶Ear Piercings

PERSONIFICATION OF THE 1ST CIRCLE—LIMBO—

COMMANDER AAPO I LIBERTAS

── THAT OF THE DEVIL’S BRAIN

✶ Personality: Aapo is an overly confident, charismatic man who is proud of the ranking he holds, being that he is ranked above his siblings and seen as the current ruler of the Nine Circles. Aapo walks and talks with a smile on his face and radiates this atmosphere of freedom, which is quickly erased by this underlying need for control, and he demands it. He has no reservations to confirm that. Many fear him despite his faux cheery attitude and overly relaxed posture.

✶ Appearance: He stands at [6’1FT ~ 188CM] with pale brown colored skin that is littered with warm brown freckles. He had deep-set shaped eyes while his eyes were the darker color shades of the rainbow, that fluctuated depending upon mood but remained a deep emerald green. He has short mahogany brown hair with a short fringe that seems messy. He’s lean and long, with long legs and arms. Always wearing overly vibrant and eccentric suits of greens and browns, decorated with bronze and gold.

──"CAMBION"—AMAB—HE/HIM ──PANSEXUAL [MASC PREFRENCE]

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

PERSONIFICATION OF THE 2ND CIRCLE—LUST—

COMMANDER ANIL/AIDEN II LUXURIA

── THAT OF THE DEVIL'S GENITALS

✶ Personality: Anil is a self-assured, arrogant, aloof, hotheaded woman. Always wearing a scowl or frown of some sort. Her mood changes just as quickly as the wind and follows that of the hierarchy. She demands respect and will expect it. Many of the others stay out of her way and allow her to do as she pleases, since she has no desire to disrupt anything and follow the rules in place. Unless they get in the way of her desires.

✶ Appearance: She stands at [6’2FT ~ 192CM] with deep chocolate brown skin with no blemishes or scars. She has bedroom eyes that are a deep navy blue but appear black until in candlelight. Anil’s hair is jet black hair reaches her waist and is curly, while wet it reverts into a more coily texture. She has long legs and a waist and adds to her height by wearing dark blacks and blues, wearing heels, with a subtle male pirate aesthetic, wearing silver with everything. With the remains of two torn leather wings upon her back, with a long and heavy black scaled tail of a crocodile.

──"INCUBUS/SUCCUBUS"—AFAB—HE/SHE ──OMNISEXUAL

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

PERSONIFICATION OF THE 3RD CIRCLE—GLUTTONY—

COMMANDER ALICE III GULA

──THAT OF THE DEVILS STOMACH

✶ Personality: Alice of the three siblings is by far the kindest of them. With a laid-back attitude. She is blunt but kind in her words, and the most approachable. She, just like her Aapo and Anil, expects respect due to her rank, though she cares little about enforcing it, especially with her "siblings". However, she has a mean streak when hungry and can become aggressive toward those who are men or those masculine in nature.

✶ Appearance: She stands at [5’7FT ~ 175CM] with warm ivory-colored skin, that’s covered in what looks to be scars, that are prominent on her throat, the back of her hands, her palms, and her knees which are small scars, while the entire along her collarbone, slanting cut across her entire stomach, and along the outside of both thighs seem like bigger scars, but they’re not. They are instead different mouths with sharklike teeth and crimson red tongues. That she keeps closed unless extremely hungry. Alice also has yellowish blonde hair that is a messy pixie cut, with an eye patch covering her right eye. She always has deep monolid-shaped eyes that are a vivid orange color. She has a sheer clothing aesthetic as while as a leather aesthetic, wearing many shades of orange, black, and white with gold. Accompanied by the small horns of a deer, a shade of white, and the tail of a deer.

──"VAMPIRE"—AFAB—SHE/HER ──BISEXUAL [FEM PREFRENCE]

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

PERSONIFICATION OF THE 4TH CIRCLE–GREED—

COMMANDER ERIC/EDWARD IV AVARITIA

── THAT OF THE DEVIL'S LUNGS

✶ Personality: Eric is the quietest of the siblings, rarely speaking unless directly spoken to. He is a loner and prefers to be alone. He is also one of the only siblings who dislikes the hierarchy of siblings, and rarely spends his time commanding his circle, opting to be away, spending his time exploring the other parts and various layers of Hell and the unique punishments.

✶ Appearance: Eric stands at [6’5FT ~ 200CM] with pale skin. With the rest of his features hidden beneath a black cloth that hides his eyes. His black cloth also replicates bandages that covered various parts of his arms and legs. He has shoulder-length curly black hair that he keeps in a ponytail. He has a Dark Victorian aesthetic wearing black, red, and yellow.

──"DHAMPIR"—AMAB/AFAB—HE/HIM/SHE/HER/IT/ITS ──GRAYROMANTIC—PANSEXUAL

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

PERSONIFICATION OF THE 5TH CIRCLE—WRATH—

COMMANDER LOUIS V IRA

── THAT OF THE DEVILS EYES

✶ Personality: Louis is a confident, arrogant, egotistical, smart man. Who revels in his circle enjoys using his influence on lower-ranked demons and enjoys spending time with higher-ranked demons. He also throws extravagant parties and chooses to spend most of his time with the Devil, who is the embodiment/avatar of Wrath. Louis tends to his duties well, despite his nasty temper.

✶ Appearance: He stands at [5’7FT ~ 175CM] with limestone-covered skin round bright blue and red heterochromic eyes and short blonde hair that fades into red that cut like a jellyfish. He dresses like that of kings and queens, with a 16th-century royalty aesthetic, wearing that of gold and red. He also has the horns of a ram that are a beautiful gold.

──"HUMAN"—AMAB—HE/THEY ──DEMISEXUAL

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

PERSONIFICATION OF THE 6TH CIRCLE—HERESY—

COMMANDER GABRIEL VI MENDAX

── THAT OF THE DEVILS TONGUE

✶ Personality: Gabriel is someone who speaks only of rumors and half-truths. Many don't trust a word he says, and you must force the truth out of it. He gets a lot of humor leading people astray with his words. Even though he is quite knowledgeable and level-headed. He prefers to use his wisdom in more trickster ways, unless threatened, he quickly breaks. Outside of his lies, he is quite kind and fair, yet due to his tongue, no one believes his kindness.

✶ Appearance: He stands at [5’9FT ~ 180CM] with bronze-colored skin and long straight dark brown hair that he keeps in a thick braid, decorated with purple snapdragons, lavender, and vines. Gabriel has a soft flowy cottagecore aesthetic wearing colors of white and purple. While upon his back he has two large gray feathered wings that he keeps tucked away.

──"FALLEN ANGEL"—AMAB—HE/SHE ──AUTOSEXUAL

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

PERSONIFICATION OF THE 7TH CIRCLE—VIOLENCE—

COMMANDER DAMEION VII VIOLENTI

──THAT OF THE DEVILS FLESH

✶ Personality: Dameion is laid back, mischievous, charismatic, and cocky. Since he has one of the most popular circles, he garters high respect despite being the seventh. He has overbearing pride and follows the hierarchy of the circles. Still, you will not find Dameion without a cocky smile and relaxed posture no matter where he is. Which leads him to having and being loved by many. Everyone practically swoons when he walks into the room or speaks. This doubles when amongst full-blooded bloodhounds, due to him being able to have a body, unlike them.

✶ Appearance: He stands at [5’9FT ~ 180CM] with honey-colored skin with black armband tattoos upon his wrists and ankles. He has short, shaggy black hair and deep red eyes. With a formal aesthetic, always wearing suits or a more military-type aesthetic. He has two long black tails of a wolf and wolf ears that hide amongst his hair with two red horns of a bison.

──"BLOODHOUND"—AMAB—HE/HIM ──POLYSEXUAL

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

PERSONIFICATION OF THE 8TH CIRCLE—FRAUD—

COMMANDER LUCY OR LUCIUS VIII FICTUS

──THAT OF THE DEVILS EARS

✶ Personality: They are an untrusted liar, fake, fraud. Dawning on various masks and looking to deceive whoever they need to deceive. Taking upon titles, achievements, and anything to further their lie, and when it all backfires, they run away and never get caught. Due to this, they are never in hell, nor in their circle, in fact, it's hard to get in touch with them. They also spend a lot of time within the different underworlds and heavens, trying to gain something from the divine. Only to be sent back to Hell without punishment. They are tricksters and unreliable, with no real redeeming qualities.

✶ Appearance: They stand at [5’8FT ~ 178CM] with thick curly gray hair with white faded ends. Their hair is short to their chin and left alone. They have hooded gray eyes and short-bison-like horns with gray bat wings that fade into black with a long rat-like tail. They have varying styles but settle on clothing far more revealing. Wearing pinks and whites.

──"IMP"—[SELECTABLE GENDER] ──GAY OR LESBIAN [SELECTABLE SEXUALITY]

── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ✶ ⋅ ⋅ ──

PERSONIFICATION OF THE 9TH CIRCLE—TREACHERY—

COMMANDER TRENT IX PRODITIO

──THAT OF THE DEVILS HEART

✶ Personality: Trent is a sweet talking and kind person. Always understand and be sympathetic. He’s easy-going and easily trusting. He’s a very honest person and falls into his roles, whilst being obedient and submissive. Not wanting to break rules without important reason. He’s a big man with an honest and open heart and tries to live past his title.

✶ Appearance: He stands at [7’5FT ~ 230 CM] with tan scarred skin and freckles. He has large heterochromic eyes, his right olive and the left mustard yellow. He has messy brown hair that he keeps in his face, partially hiding his eyes. He bulky and tall, but always hunching over with feathered ears that are dark brown and long wispy split bird tail that is also dark brown. Trent wears many colors yet sticks to neutral tones and dark green.

──"NEPHILIM"—AMAB/AFAB—HE/HIM ──PANSEXUAL

AVAILABLE POLY RELATIONSHIPS

TO BE DETERMINED

#introduction post #interactive fic #interactive fic characters #interactive fic demo #interactive fics #interactive fiction #interactive fiction demos #if game #if wip #twine game #twine if #twine interactive fiction #interactive game #datingsim #dating game

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jetii · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! I’m the anon that asked about the SFW/NSFW thing. I had an angsty idea for a Crosshair x Jedi. Reader where they both liked each other, but they never said anything. He injures her during Order 66 and believes her to be dead. Later he finds out she survived, but she has amnesia from when he attacked her. She doesn’t remember that she was a Jedi. She doesn’t remember the Batch and how she battled by their side. She doesn’t remember him.

This can end with the reader remembering and they make up, or you can go the extra angsty route and have it so she never remembers and Crosshair watches as she moves on with someone else. SFW please!

Hi anon! Sorry it took me a while to get to this, but this was harder than I thought. I ended up writing this in a different style than I'm used to, but I think it turned out alright. Tried to keep the word count short but obviously that Did Not Happen. Enjoy!

Forgotten, But Not Yet Gone

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Reader / Crosshair x Jedi!Reader

Words: 9,425

Tags/Warnings: Imperial!Crosshair, angst, unrequited feelings, medically inaccurate depictions of amnesia and memory loss

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

Killing you was the worst thing that ever happened to Crosshair.

Discovering that you were still alive was a new kind of pain entirely.

And it's one he had never prepared himself for.

He had thought there was nothing left of his heart to break. He thought he was done with feeling anything at all. But seeing you now, in the flesh — and not just the memory of you in the back of his mind...

Crosshair realized he had been wrong.

He had felt nothing for so long. And it had been easier, really. To keep it all locked away. To ignore it. To pretend. He had even been successful, for the most part.

But then, there you were, standing in front of him. And everything came rushing back to the surface.

All of the things he had tried to bury deep within himself. The feelings he had spent years ignoring. All of the things that had made him start to become himself, again. The person he was before the chip, before the nightmare that had been the last year.

And now, as you looked up at him with those big eyes of yours...

Crosshair knew exactly what that emotion was.

You had always made him feel something. Something he had never felt before. Something he was only just now allowing himself to admit. Something he was finally allowing himself to accept.

He’s not sure how long he’s been watching you through the scope of his rifle. So long. Too long.

Long enough for him to realize what he feels.

Long enough for him to know it won't ever go away.

And long enough for him to realize you would never want him again.

Still, it doesn’t stop him from moving. He checks his chrono for the time — he’s been up here for hours, watching the movements of the crowd, and nothing has happened — and stands, slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he heads for the ladder.

He has to see you. Even if you won’t want to see him. Even if he knows it will hurt more than he ever imagined.

Because he needs you to know.

Crosshair pushes his way through the crowd, weaving through the bodies. His heart is pounding in his chest. He can hear the blood roaring in his ears. His palms are sweating as he clenches his hands into fists, and his throat is dry.

You don’t see him approach. You haven't noticed him. You're busy smiling and chatting with a vendor over some sort of scrap, the kind of things he used to make fun of you for collecting.

He watches you, the way you gesture animatedly, the way you laugh. You're still beautiful, he thinks, the same way you were the day you left. Your hair is longer, pulled back into a messy braid, and your smile is softer, kinder, but it's still the same.

When he's close enough to hear your voice, he pulls off his helmet so he can hear it more clearly.

You're talking to the vendor about something, the details of the conversation lost on him. The words are just noise in his ears. Your voice washes over him, filling his head, making him ache.

Crosshair stops a few yards away from you. His chest tightens, his heart racing as he watches you. You've been talking to the vendor, completely unaware of his presence. He has to remind himself to breathe, to calm down, to be patient.

Then, you turn around.

He's not sure what he expected to see on your face. Maybe shock. Maybe anger. Maybe even disgust. But you look...pleased. Relieved. Happy. Your smile never falters. In fact, it widens, crinkling the corners of your eyes. Your hand lifts into a wave, and in his stupor he finds his own hand lifting, as if in a trance.

Someone jostles his side as he stands there, staring at you. Your eyes slide off of him and you let out a laugh before a small form launches itself into you, almost knocking you off your feet.

You laugh, picking up the little boy who had run up to you and swing him around, pressing kisses into his hair as he giggles. A moment later, a woman joins you, her hands on her hips, scolding the boy gently for running off.

His throat is too dry to speak. His hands are shaking. The world seems to tilt around him.

Crosshair knows what he feels. He had denied it for so long, tried to tell himself he didn't. But he can't do that anymore. Not when you're here. Not when he's faced with the reality of his feelings for you.

Crosshair can't speak. Can't say anything. Not now. So instead, he watches. Watches the boy squirm in your arms, and the woman smiling at the both of you. Watches as the three of you move on, further into the crowd.

As you move on. Without him.

"CT-9904, report. Why have you left your post?”

He sucks in a sharp breath, reaching up and activating his commlink.

"There was a disturbance in the market," he says. His voice is steady, cool, emotionless. Just like it should be.

"And?"

Crosshair looks around. There's no trace of you or the child. You've moved on.

"All clear."

"Good. Report back immediately.”

Crosshair's finger hovers over the button on his comm, the one that will deactivate it. He glances up, once again searching the crowd for any sign of you, but there's nothing.

You're gone, and he's alone. Again.

Crosshair's stomach turns, and he takes a breath, his eyes sliding shut as he speaks.

"Understood."

Every day, Crosshair takes up his post and watches the market, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. And every day, he finds nothing. Every day, he returns to his base, his shoulders heavy with disappointment. He starts to convince himself that he'd imagined you.

That's the only logical explanation. You aren't real. None of this is.

But then, one day, he finds himself watching as you walk into the market. You're holding the hand of the same boy he'd seen you with before, and he can't help but wonder if the two of you are related. If you've found happiness. If you're happy.

It's the first time since finding you that he feels like he can breathe.

He watches as the boy tugs on your hand, dragging you towards a booth, where he's pointing at something, chattering. You're nodding along, clearly invested in what he's saying.

He doesn't look like you. Maybe it's the father. But his age isn't right, either. Crosshair frowns, thinking. How old was the boy? Four, maybe five? It couldn't be your child, not unless you had hidden him from him for the last four years.

He watches as the boy drags you into a crowd. You're laughing, your smile wide, and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He'd forgotten how much he loved seeing you smile. Forgotten how it felt.

The only thing keeping him from leaving his post is his fear that you'll be gone the moment he does. So he stays.

The boy is still talking to you. You're listening intently, but your eyes are moving, scanning the crowd. You're nervous, he realizes. You've sensed him, he's sure of it.

Crosshair doesn't dare move. He doesn't know how you would react. You're a ghost. A figment of his imagination, conjured up because he's finally allowed himself to feel something again, but one he can’t bear to look away from

A group of people walk by. A woman bumps into you. Crosshair doesn't have a good view of you anymore. He curses, shifting, trying to get a better angle. He needs to see you. Has to.

You're moving farther away, leaving the market, the boy's hand clasped firmly in yours.

Crosshair moves, quickly, not wanting to lose you. He leaps across rooftops, keeping you in his sights, until the two of you leave the market.

The crowds have thinned. People are going home, to their families, to their lives. Crosshair wonders, briefly, where you're taking your son. What your life is like.

The two of you turn a corner, heading toward the residential district. He follows you, carefully. Slowly. Keeping a distance. You haven't noticed him, which is fine. He wants to be alone with his thoughts. He can't get over how beautiful you are. How perfect.

Crosshair slows, realizing the two of you are stopping in front of an apartment building. You let go of the boy's hand and crouch down in front of him, smiling as you brush his hair from his face. The boy smiles, wrapping his arms around your neck and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You squeeze him, and Crosshair can hear the low murmur of your voice as you talk to him, though he can't make out the words.

You're talking for a few moments, and then you're straightening, ushering him into the building. Crosshair can see the door open, a figure standing in the doorway. The woman from earlier, he realizes. He watches the door shut behind you, his heart clenching.

Maybe it's better this way. You're freer than you've ever been without the Jedi or the Empire. He doesn't want to put you in danger. He's seen what the Empire does to rebels, and he knows what they'll do to you if they discover you're still alive. The same thing he'd failed to do.

Maybe he can be satisfied with knowing that you're safe. Maybe he can live with not having you.

Still, a part of him wishes that you'd turned, seen him. That you'd looked up at him, somehow knowing that he was there.

He'd give anything for just a moment with you.

A moment is all he'd need.

He'd tell you everything. How much he's missed you. How sorry he is for the things he'd said and done. For everything. He'd beg for forgiveness, though he doesn't think he deserves it. He'd tell you how much he loves you, even if it's too late. Even if you're happy now. Even if you'll never be his.

It doesn't matter.

He just needs you to know.

He watches. He keeps his distance, but he watches. Every day. Waiting for you to appear.

He finds his mind wandering more often, thinking about the what ifs. What would have happened if he had never been forced to kill you? Would the two of you have made a life together, away from the Empire, the GAR, the Jedi? Or would he have continued to deny his feelings, pushing them away, until it was too late and he'd lost you forever?

Crosshair wonders, not for the first time, if it's worth it. If staying loyal to the Empire is worth losing any semblance of freedom. His life. The life he could have had.

He has no other choice. They're the only ones who will accept him, who will give him a home. His brothers are lost to him. They hate him, he's certain. They'd tried to kill him.

They've never needed him. They've always had each other. They'll be fine. They'll move on.

Without him.

Like they did after you.

Crosshair tries not to think about that. It's easier to focus on his work. The only thing keeping him sane, the only thing distracting him.

It's late. Crosshair's shift ended hours ago. He'd gone back to his quarters, but sleep hadn't come easily. His thoughts were racing, as they usually were, and the longer he'd laid in bed, the more restless he'd become. So he'd pulled on his armor and grabbed his rifle, and suddenly he was standing outside of your apartment.

He shouldn't be here.

But he is.

He has to see you. He just...he has to. He doesn't know why.

His fingers flex against the stock of his rifle as he looks around. It's empty, save for a few speeders parked nearby. There's not a single person in sight. He lets out a breath and slings the weapon over his shoulder.

He shouldn't be here.

But he is.

His boots crunch against the ground as he moves towards the entrance of the building. It's not the worst area of the city, but it's not the best, either. It's quiet, peaceful. There's a small garden nearby, a few trees casting a shadow on the door.

He stands outside the door for a moment, looking at the panel next to it. He shouldn't be here.

His fist pounds on the door anyway.

It takes a few minutes, but the door slides open, revealing the boy from the market. He blinks at Crosshair, tilting his head curiously.

"Hello," he says.

"Hey," Crosshair replies, awkwardly. He doesn't know what to say, really. He doesn't have any experience with kids beyond his few encounters with Omega, and she wasn't a kid, not really. "Uh, is your mother here?"

A pair of hands wrap around the boys shoulders and yank him back.

"Sam, you don't just open the door to strangers!"

The woman he'd seen the other day steps into view, a blaster clutched tightly in her hand. Her eyes widen as she sees him. He suddenly realizes how this looks — an imperial soldier, standing at her doorstep, in the middle of the night.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

She raises the blaster, pointing it at him. The boy is staring at him, and his gaze moves to the woman, his eyebrows furrowing. He slips around her and darts away, further into the apartment.

"Wait, Sam—" She glances over her shoulder. "Sam!"

"I'm not going to hurt you," Crosshair says, holding his hands up.

"What do you want?"

"I'm looking for someone," he says, slowly.

"At this hour?" She looks over her shoulder again, and when she turns back to him, her eyes are wide, panicked.

"Yes. I...I need to speak with her." His mouth feels like its full of sand when he says your name, and he watches as the woman's brow furrows with confusion.

"Who?"

"I need to speak with her. Please."

The woman is silent. She stares at him for a long time, her eyes narrowing, searching his face. She looks like she's about to say something, her lips parting, and then—

"Is everything okay, Maris?"

Crosshair's breath hitches.

Your voice. It's your voice.

The woman — Maris — glances over her shoulder. She takes a breath and nods, before looking back at him. You step into view, the boy at your heels, and stop short, your eyes widening as you take him in.

"We don't want any trouble," you say, stepping in front of Maris, shielding her and the boy. "You can't just—"

"I know."

You're standing between him and the other two, the boy's eyes darting from Crosshair to Maris. The woman has relaxed her stance, lowering her blaster. She's still watching him, wary, but she's not pointing the blaster at him.

"Are you going to hurt us?" you ask softly.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "No. I...I need to speak with you."

You're silent. Your eyes are locked with his, searching his face. His heart is racing, and he's struggling to breathe. His armor suddenly feels like an impossible weight on his shoulders.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you nod.

"Okay," you say. "Okay. Come inside."

You turn, ushering the other two inside. Maris looks over her shoulder at him, her eyes narrowed. He can't blame her. He'd be suspicious of a stranger at the door, too. Especially a strange imperial.

He's surprised when you stop just inside the door, waiting for him to enter. Your arms are crossed, your lips pressed into a thin line. You look nervous.

"Close the door, please," you say.

Crosshair reaches behind him, pressing his palm against the door, closing it. He pulls off his helmet and lets it rest against his hip, his fingers tight underneath the lip.

"You said you needed to speak to me?"

He nods. He wants to say so much. To tell you everything. But the words stick in his throat, and the silence stretches out between you.

"Well, what is it?"

He opens his mouth, then closes it, frowning. How can he even begin to explain? How can he start to make up for the things he's done? For the pain he's caused you, for the words he'd said, the insults, the hurtful things. For the fact that he was the one to end your life.

"I—" He cuts himself off, shaking his head. No. That's not enough. "I'm sorry," he says, finally.

He doesn't know if that's enough, but it's a start.

"For what?"

Your question throws him. He's not sure what to say. His brow pinches as he tries to think of a response, and the longer he takes to respond, the more annoyed you look.

"Look, I don't know what you want, but—"

"I'm sorry," he says again, firmly. "For...for everything."

Your eyebrows furrow. He watches you, trying to gauge your reaction. But you've always been hard for him to read, with your endless calm and steady presence. It had made him feel less alone, knowing someone else had a handle on their emotions.

Now, he finds it maddening.

"I don't understand," you say, finally. "You show up, unannounced, in the middle of the night, and say you're sorry, but you don't say why. For what? What do you have to be sorry for? How do you even know me?"

Crosshair freezes and looks at you. Really looks at you.

There's no recognition in your eyes. No glimmer of warmth or love, or even hate. Just confusion. And annoyance.

"I..."

You raise your eyebrows, waiting.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.

Nothing comes out.

"I...I need to go."

Crosshair turns and heads for the door.

"Wait."

You're still standing between him and the door, and when he gets close, you grab his arm. Your fingers press into the armor, digging into the gaps, the skin on his wrist burning where your hand is touching his.

"Tell me," you say. "Why are you here?"

He looks at you. The confusion is still in your eyes, the annoyance. You're waiting for an answer. You don't remember him. You don't know him. He's a stranger to you, and he has no right to be here, talking to you.

"I shouldn't have come."

"No," you say, "you shouldn't have. Tell me why you're here. What do you want?"

Crosshair sighs, running his hand over his head. His fingers linger on the mottled scar, thumb tracing where the chip was. He knows what he wants to say. But the words are caught in his throat, his tongue heavy, his mouth dry.

"I'm not going to stop asking," you say. "Tell me. Who are you?"

He feels the strange urge to laugh. You always were stubborn. It's not an admirable trait, not normally, but it's something that had always drawn him to you. You were one of the few willing to stand up to him, and now, you're standing in front of him, demanding an answer.

"My name is Crosshair."

Your frown. "Crosshair? Why does that sound familiar?"

He looks at the ground. "That's what my brothers call me."

"Brothers?" You tilt your head, confused. "I don't..."

He looks up, watching your face as you try to figure out what he means. There's a small wrinkle between your brows, the one that appears when you're thinking hard about something. Your teeth worry at your lower lip. You look...

"You don't know me," he finishes for you.

You shake your head, your lips pressed together. "I don't."

"Why not?"

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, and he can't help but cringe at the way his voice sounds. Childish. Petulant. He can't stop the way his stomach twists.

You're alive.

And you don't remember him.

You frown. "What do you mean? What does it matter?"

Crosshair looks at you, and he can't help it. His eyes roam over your face, searching.

He wonders what happened. Wonders why you don't remember him. If you'd blocked him out because you were hurt, or angry. Or if it was something else. Something more.

"Because we know each other," he says.

"We do?" You blink at him, and your nose scrunches, just a little. He feels a pang of fondness. "How?"

"We...worked together."

"What? Where?"

Crosshair looks away, his mouth pressing into a thin line. He can't do this. Not now. Maybe not ever. He shouldn't have come. He should have left things alone.

"You don't remember."

"I told you that."

"Then what's the last thing you do remember?"

Your brow furrows, and you're quiet for a moment.

"I...I remember..." You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. When you open them again, your face is pinched. "I remember running. A battle. People were screaming. I was hurt."

You glance down at yourself, and Crosshair follows your gaze, looking at the spot where his rifle had pierced you.

"What else?"

You look at him. "Nothing. Everything went dark. Then I woke up on a ship, and the people who rescued me, they brought me here."

"And you don't remember anything before that?"

You shake your head. "No. It's just...black. There's nothing there."

Crosshair can feel his heart sinking.

He wonders if the memory loss was deliberate. A defense mechanism, something to keep you from remembering. A way to protect yourself from the trauma. Or maybe it was just a side effect of being brought back to life.

You’d told him once that you could see people’s memories, peel open their minds until they revealed their thoughts and past to you. It was a useful skill in a Jedi, but one you had hated, and never used. Would it work on yourself? Or would it be different, now that you didn't remember anything?

"Are you alright?"

Crosshair glances up at you, and your eyes meet his. He can't look away. Your eyes are searching, searching, searching, and he knows you're trying to understand what's going on. He can see the frustration and confusion written all over your face.

He nods. "Fine."

You sigh. "This is...a lot."

He nods again, looking away.

"Why did you come here, Crosshair?"

"I needed to talk to you."

"But why?"

"Because..." He sighs. "I need to apologize. For the things I said. For the things I did. And for...for this."

He presses his palm against the place where he'd shot you, and you inhale sharply, stepping back. He can't look at you. He doesn't want to see the fear and disgust on your face.

"I'm sorry," he says, again. "I...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I wish..." He lets out a shuddering breath, shaking his head. "I wish things were different."

You're silent, and he looks up, finally meeting your eyes. They're wide, shining with unshed tears, and the sight makes his heart clench painfully in his chest.

"I don't understand," you say.

He can't blame you. You've forgotten everything. Every moment, every memory, every feeling.

And he can't do this.

Not now.

Not like this.

"I have to go," he says. "This was a mistake."

"Wait," you say, reaching for him, but he steps away from you, heading for the door.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, not looking at you.

The door opens, and he steps out. He's halfway down the stairs to the street when you call out.

"Crosshair!"

He stops, glancing over his shoulder at you. You're standing in the doorway, the light from the apartment spilling out around you.

"Come back tomorrow. Please."

He hesitates, and you continue, a slight smile pulling at your lips, "I'll be here."

Crosshair turns and starts walking again.

"Promise?" you call out.

He doesn't stop, but he raises his hand in a wave. "I promise."

You're already waiting for him.

Crosshair can see you, standing in the window. He watches you, your form shadowed by the curtains. You're holding a mug in one hand, the steam curling into the air. The sight of it is so domestic, so...normal. It feels like a punch in the gut.

He had watched you do the same thing, years ago. Sipping tea as you stood at the window, looking out at the landscape. It was one of the first moments that had made him realize that he felt something for you, beyond friendship.

Crosshair is so caught up in his thoughts that he almost doesn't notice the boy peeking out from behind you. You lean down, murmuring something, and the boy's face disappears. You take another sip from your mug and step away from the window.

The door slides open, revealing the two of you, and the woman from the other day. She's standing behind you, arms crossed, scowling at him. The boy is holding your hand, and his stare is unabashed.

"Crosshair," you say, smiling. "Come in."

He looks at the woman — Maris — and she narrows her eyes at him, but she doesn't protest. The three of you step inside, and he follows.

The apartment is small, but cozy. It's full of things. Pictures. Sculptures. Pieces of scrap and machinery. Junk, he would have said before, but now, they seem important, somehow.

"Do you want something to drink?" you ask, ushering him towards a chair.

"Water, please."

"Sam, can you get our guest some water?"

The boy nods and hurries to the kitchen.

"So," you say, sitting across from him. "You wanted to talk to me."

Crosshair can feel Maris' eyes boring into him, and he looks up, meeting her gaze. She narrows her eyes and turns away, moving into the kitchen. He can hear the soft murmur of her voice as she speaks to Sam.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I already told you."

"Tell me again."

"I—"

"Here's your water."

The boy sets a cup of water down on the table in front of him. Crosshair glances at him, and Sam looks away, suddenly shy. He rushes back into the kitchen, hiding behind the woman.

"So," you say. "Tell me."

"About what?"

"Everything."

Crosshair lets out a slow breath. He glances at Maris, who's still watching him from the doorway. Her expression hasn't changed, her face set in a scowl. She doesn't trust him, and he can't blame her. He wouldn't, either.

“Not here," he says.

You glance over your shoulder, frowning.

"Maris, can you take Sam out, please?"

"We'll stay here," she says.

"Maris," you say, gently.

She looks at you, her expression softening. You nod towards the door. She shakes her head and steps forward, wrapping her arms around your shoulders.

"Call if you need anything," she says.

You nod.

The two of them leave, Maris pausing briefly to look back at Crosshair. He holds her gaze, and she narrows her eyes. The door slides shut behind her.

"Sorry about that," you say. "She's a bit overprotective."

"It's fine." He pauses, and he can’t help but ask, "You're close, then?"

"Yes. Maris is a dear friend. She and her brother were the ones who saved me."

"Good," he says. "I'm glad."

"Why?"

"Because someone has to look after you."

You smile, shaking your head.

"You were always a protective one," you say, chuckling.

Crosshair feels his heart drop.

You've said something of that nature to him before. Many times. He'd always brushed it off, told you he wasn't, that he didn't care. That it was only his duty to protect you. But you'd never bought it, and you'd always seen through his façade, calling him on his bullshit.

You had always been good at that.

“You said you don’t remember,” he points out, ignoring how his voice shakes.

You shake your head. “I don’t, but...I can feel it. I can feel things. When I look at you, it feels...familiar. Like I should know you, but I don't."

"And what do you feel, now?"

You're silent, looking at him. His eyes roam over your face, and he can feel himself leaning forward. Your lips part, and his eyes flick down, watching as your tongue darts out to wet your lips.

He leans in further, and—

The door opens, and Crosshair sits back, turning his head to see Maris and Sam standing there, the woman glaring at him.

"Forgot my datapad," she says, her tone clipped.

"Of course," you say, rising from your seat. "Where did you leave it?"

She doesn't answer, and instead, she crosses the room, scooping the datapad off the counter. She gives him another dirty look and then leaves, the door sliding shut behind her.

Crosshair sighs and leans back in his seat. You give him an apologetic smile and sit back down.

"You were saying?"

"Right. What do you feel?"

You're quiet, and he watches as your brow furrows.

"Sad," you say, softly. “But also…like I'm home. With you. It's strange. It doesn't make any sense. But I feel it."

He can't stop the strangled noise that escapes his throat, and he closes his eyes, his hands gripping the armrests. He tries to breathe, but he can't, and the world seems to be tilting around him.

"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?"

He shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak.

"Crosshair, please. Look at me."

His eyes snap open and lock on yours. You're staring at him, your face pinched with concern.

"Please," you say, again, and it's too much.

It's the same thing you'd said before, the last time he'd seen you. Before everything had gone to hell. Before the chip. Before he'd shot you.

"I can't," he chokes out, pushing himself to his feet. "I can't."

"Wait," you say, grabbing his wrist.

He freezes. Your hand is warm, and the way your thumb moves over his pulse point makes his heart flutter.

"Let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," you say.

He can feel the tension in his body building, his fingers twitching. He wants to run. To get out of here. To get away from you, and everything that reminds him of what he's lost. Of what he'll never have.

He yanks his hand from your grasp and turns to go, but something stops him. Something familiar. A tugging at the back of his mind. He turns, slowly, and sees you standing there, your eyes closed, your hand outstretched.

"What are you doing?" he demands.

“I—I’m not sure,” you whisper, and your eyes blink open.

The two of you stare at each other, and then you turn, moving into the kitchen. Crosshair follows, stopping just outside the doorway. You're leaning against the counter, your head hanging low, breathing heavily.

"I shouldn't have done that," you say. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"What did you do?"

"I'm not sure," you repeat.

"But you have a theory," he says. You always have a theory.

"I think...I was trying to reach out, to see if I could read your memories. If I could see what happened between us."

"Did it work?"

"I don't know. I tried, but..."

You trail off, and Crosshair watches as you lift a hand to your head, wincing.

"It's like a wall," you say. "Or a wall that's half there. I can't break through."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure," you say. "It's like I'm remembering, but not. It's confusing. And frustrating. I saw flashes of something, but it didn't make sense. None of it does."

"Like what?"

"You. Me. Fighting. And..." You frown. "Your…brothers? They were there, too."

Crosshair swallows. He has no idea what you're seeing. How much of the memory is intact, or if it's even real.

"What else?"

"I don't remember," you say, shaking your head. "It's gone."

He doesn't know what to say. The two of you stand in silence, and he can't help but feel a small flicker of hope. Maybe this is a sign. Maybe, just maybe, there's a chance that you can regain your memories. That he can have you back.

But that's foolish. He's not a child, and he's not that naive. Hope is dangerous. It leads to disappointment. It's not something he can afford. Not anymore.

"I should go," he says.

"No." You reach for him, grabbing his wrist, and he doesn't pull away. "Please, don't go. I need to know more. Please tell me. Tell me about us. About the things we did. About...everything. I need to know. I have to know."

He hesitates. He shouldn't. He knows he shouldn't.

But you're looking at him, and you're so desperate, so vulnerable. You'd never allowed him to see you like this. You'd always been strong and sure. Calm and collected. Steady. Always steady.

This isn't you.

It's not.

But he can't help but feel a small pang of hope. A tiny spark of optimism.

Maybe.

Just maybe.

"Alright," he says. "Alright. I'll tell you."

Crosshair keeps coming back.

It becomes a routine. He stops by the apartment, talks to you. He tells you stories, and he watches as you try to remember, but can't.

Sometimes, he catches Maris watching him. Her gaze is always wary, guarded. She doesn't trust him, and he can't blame her. But she tolerates him. She never says anything, not to him, and not to you, but he knows she doesn't like him.

The boy, Sam, doesn't seem to mind him. He's curious, and he has endless questions. He's a smart kid, and Crosshair can't help but feel a small spark of pride every time Sam comes up with a solution to a problem, or manages to repair something that was broken.

He's a good kid.

He reminds him of Tech.

"Do you have any brothers?" Sam asks one day, his hands covered in grease.

Crosshair's stomach twists at the question. He nods, and Sam's eyes widen.

"I have a brother, too. We don't look the same, but that's okay."

"I have brothers who don't look like me," Crosshair replies, and Sam smiles.

"That's good."

Crosshair smiles back.

After that, Sam starts to ask him questions, about his life, his family. His brothers. He can't help but answer, though he tries to keep it vague, giving Sam the barest details. You watch him, and he can feel your eyes on him. You want answers too, but you don't push.

It's easier when it's just the two of you. Easier to talk. Easier to tell you things. Easier to try and find some way to connect.

Easier to fall back into old habits.

"Do you remember that time on Vanqor?"

"The one where I almost drowned in a pond, or the one where I had to save you from that pack of gundarks?"

"Both."

You laugh, and the sound is like music to his ears. "Yes. I remember. You were such a brat about it."

"I was not," he huffs, and you give him a look.

"Yes, you were."

He can't argue. You're right. He'd been a brat. And an asshole.

But he can't help it. You bring out the worst in him. And the best.

"Fine," he grumbles. "Maybe a little."

You smirk and shake your head, and the two of you continue to chat. The conversation shifts, and he's talking about his brothers. How they used to get into trouble. How they'd pull pranks, and he'd end up in the middle of it. How you'd always had his back.

Crosshair can't help but wonder if this is how it would have been, if the two of you had been able to have a normal life. Would you have ended up together, anyway? Would the two of you be happy? Would you have been able to start a family of your own?

He'd never thought about it before, but now, it seems all too possible.

Too tempting.

"What are you thinking about?"

He looks up, startled, and realizes you're watching him, a faint smile on your face.

"Nothing," he says.

"Tell me."

"It's nothing. I was just...thinking."

"About what?"

"Us."

"What about us?"

He pauses, his mouth going dry. He shouldn't say it. He should change the subject. But he can't.

"What we could have been."

Your expression softens, and your eyes shine with sadness.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I wish I could remember."

"Me, too."

The two of you fall into a heavy silence. The air is thick, and he can feel the tension growing. You're still staring at him, your gaze searching. He's not sure what you're looking for, but you seem to find it, because you stand, and walk over to him.

"Can I show you something?"

He nods, and you take his hand, leading him to your room. He can't help but notice how your fingers fit perfectly between his, or the way his skin tingles underneath his gloves when you touch him. You step inside, and close the door behind you, sealing the two of you inside.

Crosshair doesn't know what to expect, but it's not this.

"Sit."

You motion towards the bed, and he does, slowly, feeling his heart race. You move to a dresser and open the top drawer, pulling out a box.

"I found this," you say, sitting next to him, "a few days ago."

You set the box between the two of you, and slowly, carefully, you lift the lid. Inside is a collection of items - a haircomb, a few pieces of jewelry, a datapad, a pair of gloves.

"What is this?"

"I don't know," you say. "Maris found them in my things. She says I was wearing most of this when she and her brother found me. She kept it for me. I think...I think they might have been important to me."

You pick up the datapad and press a button, bringing it to life. The screen lights up, and you stare at it, your brow furrowing.

"It's locked," you say, frowning. "I don't remember the password."

"Have you tried any?"

"No," you say. "I haven't touched any of this. I wanted to wait for you."

He can't hide his surprise, and you smile, a faint flush spreading across your cheeks.

"I think," you say, slowly, "that they're memories. And I think you might be the key to unlocking them."

Crosshair's breath hitches. "How?"

"I'm not sure," you admit. "But...when we're together, I feel...something. A connection. Like a catalyst. I can't explain it, but...I know I need you."

He feels a warmth spreading through him, and he looks away, his heart pounding.

"Do you think we could try?" you ask, tentatively.

He nods.

"Alright," you say. You pick up the datapad, and hand it to him.

"I don't know if I can," he says, taking the device.

"Please."

He swallows. His mouth feels dry, and his hands are shaking. He takes a deep breath, and then types in a code.

The datapad beeps, and the screen lights up.

"How did you know that?" you ask, softly.

He shrugs. "It was a guess."

"A good one," you say, smiling.

"I'm full of good ideas," he replies, smirking.

You roll your eyes, and the two of you share a quiet chuckle.

"So," you say. "Shall we see what's inside?"

He nods, and you scoot closer to peer over his shoulder. He unlocks the datapad, and a folder opens. Inside are dozens of files - audio, video, and holos. He looks at you, and you nod, indicating for him to click on the first one.

The screen goes black, and then an image appears. It's of the two of you standing in front of a waterfall. He remembers the moment. It was from a mission, the first time the two of you had really worked together. He didn't like you then. Not at all. But he can't deny that you were efficient, and had a sharp eye. You'd impressed him, and the two of you had formed a tenuous bond.

"I took a lot of holos," you murmur, and he can't help but chuckle.

"I remember," he says. "You were a damn nuisance."

"Yeah, but look."

You point to the holo, and Crosshair looks, and sees himself. He's standing next to you, and there's a hint of a smile on his face.

"That's you," you say, poking his shoulder.

"Yes," he replies, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "It is."

You move on to the next file, and it's another image of the two of you. And the next. And the next. Until finally, the holo changes. It's a video. The two of you are in the cockpit, and he can see his brothers sitting behind you.

"We were on our way to a mission," he says as he sees the date stamp. "We'd just gotten the brief."

"Play it," you urge.

Crosshair presses the play button, and the two of you watch as the holo begins.

"You're sure this is a good idea?" you ask, glancing at him.

"Of course," he replies, not looking away from the viewport.

Tech looks over his shoulder, frowning. "Statistically speaking, there is a thirty-two percent chance that we will—"

"Shut up, Tech," Crosshair snaps.

"It's alright," Hunter says. "We'll be fine. We always are."

Wrecker laughs, and the sound is booming in the small space.

"And if we're not, well, that's what we have her for," Crosshair adds, nodding towards you.

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, thanks. Nice to know I'm the only one who can bail your asses out."

"You're welcome," he smirks.

You huff and shake your head. "Just be careful."

"Always," he replies.

The video cuts off, and the screen goes black. You're quiet, and Crosshair glances at you. You're staring at the datapad, your expression thoughtful.

"That was...me," you say, slowly. "I can't believe it. That was really me."

"Yes," he says. "It was."

"It was so...familiar," you murmur. "But also...not."

"It will come," he says, softly. "I promise."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because it's you," he says. "I know you. You're stubborn."

"You're one to talk," you say, laughing.

He can't stop himself. He reaches for you, his fingers brushing against your cheek. You lean into the touch, and he cups your face, his thumb brushing against your skin.

"I've missed you," he confesses.

"I'm right here."

"I know."

"You don't have to miss me," you say, gently. "Not anymore."

He looks at you, and the words are there, on the tip of his tongue.

But he can't say them.

He can't.

Not now.

Not yet.

"Crosshair," you say, softly.

"Yes?"

"I have a question."

"What is it?"

You hesitate, and he watches as your brow furrows, the small wrinkle appearing.

"Were we ever...together?"

"Together?"

"Romantically," you clarify.

He swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He drops his hand, and turns away.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me," you say. "But...I feel like we were. Or...maybe could have been. I'm not sure."

"We..."

He trails off, and his eyes flick up, meeting yours. You're watching him, your gaze intent, and he knows you won't let this go. Not now.

"No," he says, finally. You look…he isn’t sure how you look, actually, but it has him continuing before he can think better of it. "But we could have been."

"Why didn't we?"

Crosshair looks away, his hands clenching into fists. He can feel the anger, the guilt, the regret, all of it, rising up inside him, threatening to consume him.

"It was my fault," he says, his voice tight.

"What was?"

"Everything," he replies, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"I'm sure that's not true."

"It is," he says. "It's my fault. All of it."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a monster," he snaps.

You're quiet, and he can feel the anger burning in his chest, his blood boiling.

"That's not true," you say, finally.

"You don't know that," he growls.

"Maybe not," you say, evenly. "But I know you. I may not remember everything, but I know enough to know that you're not a monster. I know that you love your brothers. That you care about me. That you're a good man. Maybe not a perfect one, but a good one. One I trust."

He closes his eyes, his chest tight. He can't believe you. He can't. You're wrong. He's not a good man. He's not. He can't be. Not after everything. Not after what he's done.

"It's okay," you say, softly.

"No, it's not."

"Then let me help you."

"There's nothing you can do," he says, shaking his head. "I don't deserve it."

"Everyone deserves to be happy."

"Not me."

"Crosshair," you sigh, exasperated.

He looks up at you, and your eyes lock.

"It doesn't matter," he says, the fight going out of him. "It's too late. We can't go back. I can't change the past. And you...you don't remember."

"I will," you say, fiercely.

"Maybe," he replies, unconvinced.

"No," you say, your voice firm. "I will. I will remember, and I will know you. The real you. I will."

"I don't—"

"Crosshair," you say, firmly.

He stares at you, and he can feel his resolve breaking.

"Fine," he says, finally.

"Good," you say, nodding.

"But you have to promise me something," he says.

"What is it?"

"Promise me you won't push yourself," he says. "Don't try to force it. Let it happen naturally. Promise me."

You're silent for a moment, and he can see the wheels turning in your mind.

"Okay," you say, nodding.

"Promise."

"I promise."

"Thank you," he says, his shoulders slumping in relief.

"You're welcome," you say with a grin.

He shakes his head, unable to stop the small smile that tugs at his lips.

"What?"

"Nothing," he says. "Just...you."

"Me?"

"Yes," he replies, his tone wry. "You're infuriating, and stubborn, and—"

"I'm starting to remember why we never got together," you say, teasingly.

He lets out a startled laugh, and the two of you lapse into silence, a comfortable one, filled with a familiarity and a warmth that he hasn't felt in years.

"Do you want to look at more holos?" you ask, gently.

"Sure," he says, leaning back.

The two of you settle down, and he holds the datapad, while you lean against him, your head resting on his shoulder. He feels a familiar warmth spreading through him, a sense of belonging, and rightness.

He doesn't know how long the two of you sit there, watching the holos.

He doesn't care.

He's home.

Crosshair keeps coming back.

Every day, he returns. He tells you stories. Shows you holos. Shares memories.

Slowly, things begin to return. Flashes, mostly. Nothing concrete, but the pieces are there. Small ones, at first. The scent of a flower. The sound of a song. The feeling of the sun on your face.

As time passes, the memories grow stronger. Clearer. More detailed.

And still, you continue to search for answers. You ask questions. He answers, when he can.

Sometimes, it's too much, and he can't. When it is, you change the subject, and the two of you talk about other things.

You tell him about your life. About Maris and her brother, and their family. You tell him about the boy, Sam. You tell him about the work you've been doing, helping to rebuild the city.

You ask about his life, too. His family. His brothers. His life before.

He answers, when he can.

As the days pass, Crosshair finds himself falling back into old patterns. The familiarity of it is comforting, and it's easy to pretend, if only for a moment, that nothing has changed.

That you're the same people, with the same lives, and the same goals.

It's a lie.

But it's one he allows himself, for a while.

One day, you're sitting on the couch, the two of you lost in conversation. He's telling you a story, and you're listening, a small smile on your face.

"Wait," you interrupt. "I remember that."

"You do?"

"Yes," you say, eagerly. "Tech and I were working on modifying my armor, and he asked you to go get us some food. You came back, and—"

"And Wrecker spilled paint all over me," he finishes, his voice bitter.

"Yeah," you say, your grin widening. "And then I had to help you clean it off."

"It was a nightmare," he grumbles. "And it took forever. Your damn hands were everywhere."

You laugh, and his stomach flutters. It's a wonderful sound.

"It wasn't that bad," you tease.

"It was," he insists. "It took hours."

"Maybe," you concede. "But it was fun."

"Fun?" he says, incredulous.

"Yeah," you say, your eyes twinkling. "For me."

"You're terrible," he grumbles, though there's no heat in his words.

"You love it."

He doesn't answer.

Instead, he leans forward, and presses his lips to yours.

You freeze, and he freezes, and for a moment, the two of you are motionless, caught in a moment of indecision.

Then, slowly, tentatively, your lips move against his, and his eyes close, and he's kissing you, and you're kissing him, and the world falls away, and it's just the two of you, lost in the moment.

Finally, the two of you break apart, breathless. Your eyes meet, and there's a spark of recognition, and something else.

Something deeper.

"Crosshair," you whisper, your voice shaking.

"I know," he says, cupping your cheek. "I know."

He kisses you again, and you kiss him back, your arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, and you respond in kind, your hands tangling in his hair.

The two of you continue to kiss, and he's lost in the sensation, his hands roaming over your body, his fingers digging into your skin.

Finally, the two of you break apart, breathless, and your eyes lock.

"Wow," you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips. "That was..."

"Yeah," he says, a smirk forming on his face.

You laugh, and his smile grows. Then you grow quiet, and you pull away, turning your head.

"Hey," he says, his voice soft.

"Sorry," you say. "It's just...I'm remembering things. More than before. A lot more. Things I'd forgotten."

"What kind of things?"

"Things we did. Where we went. What we said."

He can't help but feel a sense of excitement. This is the first time you've been able to recall anything concrete. It's a step in the right direction.

"What are you remembering?" he asks, his voice low.

You turn to him, and your eyes are shining.

"Us," you say, softly. "The way we were. Together."

His heart races, and he swallows, hard.

"What is it?" he asks, his voice raspy.

Your brow furrows and you close your eyes, and he can see the gears turning in your mind. He waits, barely daring to breathe.

"I remember us, talking," you say, slowly. "We were on the ship, and I was working on something, and you were sitting with me, and...we were talking about us."

"What did we say?"

"You told me that...you cared about me," you murmur. "You told me that you didn't know how, or why, but that you did."

"I remember," he says, his voice breaking.

"I remember...how I felt," you say. "When you said it."

"How?"

"Happy," you reply, smiling. "It made me happy."

He can't speak. Can't move. Can't think. All he can do is stare at you, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Crosshair," you say, gently. "I—"

Before you can finish, the door slides open, and the two of you jerk away from each other, startled.

Maris stands in the doorway, her expression unreadable. She takes in the scene, and her eyes narrow.

"Am I interrupting?" she asks, her tone cool.

"No," you say, hastily. "We were just...talking."

She doesn't respond. Instead, she turns, and walks away.

You let out a shaky breath, and Crosshair glances at you.

"I should go," he says, softly. "I need to report in before they come looking for me."

"Right," you say, nodding.

"Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Yeah," you say. "I'll be here."

"Okay," he says, his heart still pounding. "I'll...see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," you repeat, and he stands, heading for the door.

Before he leaves, he glances back at you, and the two of you exchange a brief, secret smile.

Then, he steps out of the apartment, and the door slides shut behind him.

As he makes his way back to the shuttle, he can't help but feel the weight of what just happened.

He can't deny it.

There's no turning back now.

Crosshair makes his way back to your apartment, his mind filled with thoughts of you. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about you since the kiss. He can't help but relive the memory, over and over, the feeling of your lips against his, the taste of your mouth, the way your body felt pressed against his.

It was better than he'd ever imagined.

And now, he's desperate to see you. To kiss you again. To hold you, and touch you, and feel your skin beneath his fingers.

He reaches the door, and before he can knock, it opens, and you're standing there, your eyes wide.

"Crosshair," you say, and the sound of his name on your lips sends a thrill through him.

"Hey," he says, his voice raspy.

You look at him, your expression unreadable, and his stomach churns.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," you say, and his worry eases, slightly. But you're not smiling, and he can tell something is wrong.

"What's going on?" he asks.

"It's...I don't know," you reply.

"Tell me."

"Okay," you say, taking a deep breath. "Okay."

He follows you into the living room, and the two of you sit down. You're on the edge of your seat, your hands clasped in your lap, and he watches as your leg bounces.

"So," he says, his voice strained. "What is it?"

You take another breath, and your hands tremble.

"I...remember," you say, slowly. "I remember everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes," you say, a small smile appearing before it falls. "It all came back. It was like a flood, and I couldn't stop it."

"What do you mean?"

"I remembered," you say, a look of awe crossing your face. "I remembered it all. The good, the bad, and everything in between. The missions, the battles, the fights, the arguments. The pain. The loss. The love."

He stares at you, unable to believe what he's hearing.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes," you say. "Dead serious."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

He can't stop himself. He grabs you, pulling you close, and the two of you embrace, his arms tight around you.

"I can't believe it," he says, his voice hoarse. "I thought...I was sure it would never happen. That I'd lost you. Forever."

"It's okay," you say, resting your head on his shoulder. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here."

He holds you, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Crosshair," you murmur.

"Yeah?"

"I have to leave," you say, and his stomach drops.

"Leave?"

"Yes," you say. "I can't stay. Not now. I need to get out of here. To go somewhere. Now that I know what I am, I—I can't stay. I'm a danger to everyone here."

"Where will you go?"

"I'm not sure," you reply, slowly. "Somewhere I know the Empire won't find me."

"Where?"

"I don't know," you say, shaking your head.

He's quiet, and the two of you lapse into silence. Finally, he speaks.

"I'll come with you," he says.

"What?"

"I'll come with you," he repeats, firmly.

"Crosshair, I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not," he says. "I'm offering. And besides, you need me. I know the Empire, and the ways they track people. I can help keep you safe."

You hesitate, and he can see the uncertainty in your eyes.

"Please," he says, his voice soft. "Let me do this. Let me keep you safe. I can't lose you again. I can't. Not after all this."

You gaze at him, your expression thoughtful.

"Okay," you say. "If that's what you want."

"It is," he says, fiercely.

"Then we'll do it together."

"Together," he says, nodding.

The two of you smile, and you reach for him, pulling him close, your lips pressing against his. He responds in kind, his hands gripping your hips, his fingers digging into your skin.

You break apart, and his eyes meet yours, and he knows, without a doubt, that this is the right decision.

He's not letting you go again.

Never again.

Not if he can help it.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @kindalonleystars

@cw80831 @qvnthesia @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak @lovelytech9902

@frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @Puppetscenario @umekohiganbana

@resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano @burningnerdchild

@ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear @thegreatpipster

@lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777 @schrodingersraven

@megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean @bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony

#tbb crosshair #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch crosshair #clone x reader #the bad batch x reader #roy writes #slowly making my way through requests!

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cheekylittlepupp · 1 year ago

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Can we talk about Ascended Astarion and how he actually seems to be lonelier than ever? If you talk to the non romanced version of him he says that even with all of this power and wealth, he feels lonely. I'm starting to think that this is the sad route just as much as it's the evil route.

If you've romanced him, his whole world now revolves around you, he will lovebomb you and never let you go, if you talk about freedom he gets visibly annoyed and replies with "Gods, not this again." How many times was this discussed before? I'm almost 100% sure that you are never getting out of a relationship with him, ever, if you find a way to die this man will probably scour all of Faerûn for a way to bring you back. Or if you want to go the angsty route.

Once he ascends he pushes everyone away and if tav doesn't agree with him he can easily compel them to, talk about an echo chamber. Afterall, he knows best. Everyone is beneath him, their only purpose is to bow and serve and of course, offer their necks.

It reminds me of something he said before about someone, hmm ~

Everything that has happened up to this point, everything you've gone through with him from act 1 up until he ascends is erased. He is once again closed off, unbelieving of love, belives that every type of relationship is just a transaction, that his former self was pathetic, powerless, undeserving of anything and that everything in this world happens only for power. Power, Power, Power.

Sharing his power and wealth with you, providing you with pleasure, what is all of this, if not, love? (funny, this ties up to act 1n2 again huh, intimacy being only transactional) Oh you wanted, love, love? Honesty, sincerity, respect, mutual understanding and all of that crap? Don't be ridiculous, darling.

He is incredibly pushy about making you his spawn because in that way you will never be able to run away from him, you will be forever his.

I do believe that you are special to him, afterall, you were his first everything. The first living creature's blood was yours and we all know how important and special that is, you were the first one who saw him for who he truly is, you were the first one who he was intimate with for the first time after he escaped and wasn't compelled to do so, he had other motives at the time but we all know he caught feelings soon after, you were the first one who listened to him pour his heart out, you are the first person he's ever truly cared for, you were the one standing by his side when you faced Cazzador, you were the one who helped him with the ritual, you helped him sacrifice all of those souls, you pushed him, you were there through all of it, YOU.

So once he finally receives the power that he's lusted after, he will secure you any way he can, he will promise you everything, he will say everything that you want to hear, god forbid he is ever alone again and lose you.

All of this ties up to him being possesive, he's co-dependent on you, always watching, always having his eyes on you, his prized treasure, his beloved pet, his dark consort, the only thing he truly has. You will be together forever, until the world falls down, be it by force or your free will.

#i think it's more tragic than anything but oh well might just be me #ascended astarion #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 #bg3 rambling #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion romance #i do love me some angst #sorry if this was a biiit too long #i dont find him scary #i find him sad tbh #i wanted to ramble a lot more ngl #dont kill me “apologists” you can still have him be all evil and strong in your hcs #astarion baldurs gate #mims posts ~

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toji-bunny-girl · 1 year ago

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Always wondered what happens after a darling successfully escapes their yandere. Will they meet a new person and fall in love? Will they continue living in the aftermath of being kidnapped and traumatised? If so, how would they navigate their life with their disturbing past?

And what happens if the yandere managed to catch their darling back for the second time?

It’s been more than 2 years since you escaped from Bakugou, and you’re living a fresh life away from him. You don’t report him to the authorities because you know the corrupted system would wound you up back under his chain. So, you’d rather keep your mouth shut and move to some obscure countryside far, far away from him and the city.

There, you found a halcyon lifestyle and an honest man who cherished you more than anything. You had gotten engaged with him within a year of seeing each other and you thought life was finally falling into place. Until it didn’t.

You had no one to blame, really. It was as if God was playing an abhorrent joke on you. Who knew pro hero Dynamite would be going undercover in the diminutive town of Motosu for an on-the-run supervillain?

Who knew he would be staying at the exact inn you’re working at?

Bakugou had always known that you were out there somewhere, he could feel his cells insisting you were missing and alive—hiding in the tenebrous cracks of the world. And one day, he would find you and drag you out of whatever crap you’re hiding in.

Lucky him, he had caught a familiar figure trodding around the inn he was staying at over a runaway case. He couldn’t have gotten it wrong, right? The way those hips sway as she walks, how her neck is structured from behind, and her smell. So sweet, as ambrosial as some forbidden fruit.

And when she turned around a corner, he saw your exact features—that very face etched like a tattoo in the walls of his mind. He could never get that profile wrong; he could never get you wrong.

Bakugou doesn’t just sweep you off from this shitty town though. He waited and watched. Noted the usual route you take to go back home, ‘home’ where you would call it, with some bumpkin who managed to put a worthless ring on your finger.

Dynamite could've given you everything and anything. He could’ve given you the world—a million-dollar ring, a mansion, and his whole heart and soul just for you. And you settled for that?

It boils his blood in crimson ire—why couldn’t you just be good and love him? Just why? Why can’t you accept your fate with him, forever as your one? Why? Why? Why?

He’ll get you to answer him soon enough once he got everything prepared—paying for the local police and magistrate’s silence; no one would know and care about your disappearance then.

And he waits until you’re off your shift and traipses back home with your sore back and hips, you wouldn’t be worrying about them when he gets you back to your real home.

“How long has it been?” your pace slowed, ears twitching. “2 years? Or more?”

No.

No. This can’t be.

Bakugou.

Your thought doesn’t finish forming before you’re bolting away as hard as you can, it doesn’t matter if your legs are getting weaker and the world is on vertigo—you’ll die if you’re caught. You know this voice and it haunts you in every nightmare you have, and for once, you prayed and prayed and begged for this to be a dream.

Don’t take my life away again.

At last, you knew you could never outrun him. But the adrenaline surging through your veins made you believe you could; only a little while until you’re home and you’ll get Takashi to call the cops. And you finally understood chemicals were mere illusions when your body is thrown forward, landing on the ground before Bakugou pins you down.

It’s been two years. And he’s bigger. Stronger. Your stomach drops into the endless abyss when your eyes catch his burning red, sweat and tears automatically roll down your face and your voice fails to crack out of your dry throat. The world feels like it’s ending and you’re finding death in front of you, again.

“Please, please, don’t! Please, leave me alone! I’m sorry, please—” you saw his face; a serpent with a satisfied hiss, tail locking its prey immobile, and you understood there was no way you could ever gain back your freedom. “Please, god! Please, don’t do this to me!”

“Oi,” so chilly, as if the alphabet of his word were stabbing your eardrums. “I’ll kill him if you don’t be good.”

This time with a life’s threat, you knew you’d forever be in hell—dead or alive.

୨ yandere series ୧

yandere!katsuki﹛ⅰ﹜ yandere!katsuki﹛ⅱ﹜ yandere!katsuki﹛ⅲ﹜ yandere!katsuki﹛ⅳ﹜ yandere!katsuki﹛ⅴ﹜

#BUNN—dark desires #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #yandere bnha #bnha #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #mha #yandere mha #mha x reader #Anime #yandere #tw yandere

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evilminji · 1 year ago

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A Moral Dilemma! Question!

Let's say there is a trucker. An average man. Kind enough, did okay in school, loves his wife and misses her like you wouldn't believe every time he has to go. Misses his little girl even more. HATES he's missing the early years of her life. First day to school, getting her up and brushing her hair into pigtails, making pancakes like his Pa used to make. The works.

But the economy is shit. Him and his wife have to work. Make ends meet. They're DESPERATE to get out of Gotham. Move somewhere boring. Safe.

But... well, places like that cost money. Kids cost money. And he did OKAY in school. Not a lot of jobs out there for "Okay" guys from Gotham.

His cousin finds him a route though. A solid job. Really pulled through when push came to shove and things were looking bad. Like he might have to take up that offer to Goon. Now he's a trucker.

And his route? Well the half way point is Amity Park. He stops to stay the night every time. Never really STAYS, has heard they got themselves a Cape and such, but? It is what it is. He's from Gotham. He minds his business. Parks on the outskirts of town to avoid getting hit.

Doesn't realize, he's getting SOAKED in Ectoplasm every time he's in town.

And this trucker? Not the healthiest man. He wishes he could be. But life on the road is not exactly conducive to fresh fruit and leafy greens. He eats more grease and sugar then his doctor would EVER recommend. In fact, has specifically warned him not too.

But some days you just need a warm meal. You miss your kid, your wife, your bed. And you know it'll be days before you can see any of them. But at least there is pancakes.

You can pretend you're eating with your family. Or at least, let the coffee be warm enough for the two of you. God, but the poor man is tired.

And as he gets close to Gotham?

Breaking News!

The Joker. AGAIN. The trucker cringes, horror filling him. What poor soul has that mad man hurt NOW? When will it end? Him and his wife are so close to getting the hell out. Thinking Kansas. His wife has been joking about pie baking competit-

No.

Oh God No.

There, on the screen, tears streaming down her beautiful face? Is the love of his life. His best friend. His EVERYTHING. And in her arms, trying so, so hard to be quiet. To muffle her terror born sobs... is his little girl. One pigtail torn from its srunchie, blood on her tiny face.

The trucker knows how this story ends.

Batman will try. He ALWAYS tries. And sometimes... sometimes that's enough. But he knows the odds here. His family are in front. Stars of this sick show. The trucker can't breathe. His heart is pounding, too hard for a man of his health.

He's not young. Should be on blood pressure meds he simply cant afford. Is panicked by a terror few should ever suffer. And? What runs in his family, strikes true. It feels so far away, the pain in his chest. He... No, he can't.

He can't.

His family.

He can't die. Leave them. They're in danger! They can't die like this. So close to freedom. Happiness. They... the..y.. ca..n..t...

THEY WON'T. HE REFUSES.

~~~

So! Here in comes the QUESTION! As you sit, watching this terrified child call for her father, ripped from her begging mothers arms, you see a green opaque man full body tackle the Joker.

You watch his eyes visible glow and change color, fight a visible STRUGGLE, like jeckle and Hyde, for control of his body. Between the monster known as Joker and what seems to be? The little girl's newly Meta father.

The Father wins.

You watch the Bat arrive with the police. Thank the man and say he can release Joker into custody. See the EXACT moment the Meta realizes something. Turns to look at his daughter, then his wife. Looks back at the commissioner.

Says "No".

Is he right to do this? To Possess the Joker, as a life sentence, to insure the safety of others? He is perfectly will to sit that life in a jail cell. Knows he will never be allowed to roam free again. But! The Joker is contained.

Is this Right? Or merely emotionally satisfying?

Discuss :3

@hypewinter @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @nerdpoe

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #to be honest #walker comes to collect the Joker and slaps a prisoner in him in exchange for a reduced sentence #trucker ghost and his wife move to Kansas #sometimes family is you #your mom #and your dad who is a ghost #but oh sweet jesus the screaming ethics debate here at the precinct #jason you are a crime lord #batman stop trying to save the Joker #please

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lightlycareless · 7 months ago

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omgggg, that Toji x reader (*plus* Naoya) was incredibleee, ignore me if you want, I know you made Toji chosing to keep distance from reader and Megumi permanently BUT what if one day he ends up finally seeing Megumi, either personally or by pictures/videos 🥺 We know Megumi it's the spitted image of him, I mean, Gojo's face when he saw him for the first time said it all 😅 And also knowing his baby has the Ten Shadows technique (I cant stop thinking about how proud he was in the canon manga/anime 🥺 he always KNEW from the start Megumi was blessed/gifted, since his first breath, the fact Toji named him is not random) making the entire Zenin clan eat their shit

Heya anon!!

I'm so glad you liked it heheheheheheh a oneshot that I didn't intend to write but it just happened!! aren't we glad it did? lol

I didn't mean to ignore you, I was only focusing on other things first 😅 oof, I still have lots of request to go through, which I plan to do it slowly but surely...

Anyways, I might've not gone down that route, however... why not something angsty? I mean 😏I've had this in my mind so... yeah 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Warnings: mentions of infidelity. Pregnancy. Naoya is, unfortunately, a prick. this is the oneshot anon is talking about. 100% read that first hehe. this is an AU from that, so the second part doesn't count??? I guess. excuse the proofreading. also I haven't written toji that much so please excuse my oocness as well ahahahahha :')

Happy reading!

As much as the three hoped to ignore the bases of your pregnancy, behave as it didn’t rise from an adulterous act, a direct transgression to the principles of the Zen’in, and keep it a secret, it wouldn’t take long before the guilt in each other’s mind began to weight heavy on their mind, ultimately betraying them and revealing the truth to the light, excusing the angered elders to finally get rid of two birds with one stone.

“Where—Where does this accusation even come from?!” You gasp, blood turning cold at the implication—at the notion of the truth. “Do you know the gravity of such words?!”

“Better than you of the act, it seems.” Another accuses. “We were quite aware of the rumors surrounding your ill-fitting behavior, but we never believed it would actually extend to this point!”

“I—I won��t tolerate neither of you disrespecting me!” you cry. “Nor will Naoya for that matter!”

But calling for his aid would no longer prove sufficient, for Naoya, too deep in his own insecurities by that point, had come to the disheartening conclusion that this situation had gotten way out of hand for a simple diversion.

A supposed act of mercy.

He shouldn’t have let this happen in the first place, should’ve respected what you and your marriage represented, what meant to him, and discard his pity for Toji—the man has been alone most of his life, what difference would that make that now?

But he didn’t, he allowed you to go to Toji—no, he handed you over to him, thinking he was doing something right for his cousin, or perhaps something deep inside him was allured by the sick idea of you being with another man and now, he was suffering the consequences.

Consequences he did not like, not one bit—because it got too real for him: you were now pregnant, with Toji’s child, and not his.

And this only highlighted what he considered the pitfalls of this relationship, a strike against his ego and the supposed inability to beget children, a rumor that grew bigger and bigger by each passing day, spreading like wildfire to the point where even outsiders became aware of it.

Which, for a prideful man like Naoya, was only a nightmare.

He loved you, he really did—Naoya never envisioned spending the rest of his life with anyone else…

But he loved his pride more, and when his clan began to actively confront him about it, he couldn’t take it anymore.

And thus….

“…Naoya?”

“This marriage was broken before it even started.” Your husband would say, unexpected words that pierced straight to your heart. “My family advised me well in avoiding you, but I falsely believed I could achieve differently.”

“What—what are you even saying?” you breathe. “What do you mean by—by differently?”

And… where does everything you lived with him stand?

The time you spent with him, the sweet nothings he’d whisper into your ear, to love you both swore to one another, reminding each other that there was no one else that compares…

And that you were the only woman who has ever made him feel this way—loved— and would do everything in the world to make happy…

Was it… all … a lie?

All for… nothing?

Or were you the only one that actually believed the other’s words?

“I cannot look past these transgressions.” Naoya continues. “You’ve left me no choice.”

“But you—you made me do this!” you gasp. “I never—I never wanted to be with anyone else! All this time, my heart only belonged to you! How could you—how could you abandon me after all we’ve gone through together?!”

Naoya doesn’t say anything else anymore, instead, he simply turns around, exiting the room to leave you in the hands of the vengeful elders who did not hesitate to do what they had long desired—banish you from the estate.

Swiftly yet cruelly, you wouldn’t be able to take anything with you, not even a change of clothes or even money (you didn’t even ask for much, just enough to survive the week) as you were forced to face a new life of your own—alone, pregnant.

Going back to your family was also out of the question; the shame that you’d bring upon their name was one the Zen’in didn’t not waste time to remind them of—at the end, there was only so much your father and siblings could do against the invasive ways of the elders, and perhaps, a part of them deep inside, were also disappointed that you’ve succumbed to such foul thing.

And so, you were tossed onto the street, with nothing more than the clothes you were wearing, whatever you had for savings throughout the years, managed to take it out before either clan could close your account—but most importantly, with a broken heart you believe will never heal, not after the grave wound your husband’s indifference inflicted on it.

The pain you couldn’t even mourn properly due to all the things you had to worry about now.

The first thing you did was search for a place to stay, though getting one was proving to be an almost impossible task.

Thankfully, you were allowed to keep one other thing, maybe it eluded their minds when all this was happening, but you’re not going to question why when it was going to help you pay for a roof.

Naoya’s ring, your wedding ring, was something many would consider expensive, the kind of flashiness expected from a prestigious family like the Zen’in.

You remember a time when any kind of ring would’ve been enough for you to marry him. You didn’t need anything extraordinary to commit your life and heart to him.

That’s nothing but a far cry from what you felt now.

It still hurt to pawn it, but it was the only way you could accommodate yourself and the unborn child inside you, in the only area you could afford with what you got, for even then many suspected that your ring… well, had dubious origins.

When was the last time you even had to worry about the costs of living? Food, clothes, water…?

Many years—it had to; ever since you got together with Naoya, he’s been the one that took care of you.

You just had to say the word and he’d disappear all of your worries—even from the simplest of wants, Naoya indulgingly obliged.

It was a happy life you eventually considered for your child—imagining how happy they’d grow to be without a single worry, solely focusing on what they’ll have to play that day, or how to escape their over doting parents.

A long-gone dream, tossed to the side as a nightmare quickly took its place.

…

Did Naoya ever mean the words I love you?

Or was he doing all this just to keep you there, complying, just in case someone better came along, just like his clan wished would happen?

There mere thought of his devotion being nothing but an act tightens your heart with sorrow once more, gifting you the tragic notion that perhaps, all this time, you never knew your husband…

Maybe ex-husband, by this point.

All that was left from those moments, the slightest semblance of that marriage was this baby, created from what you thought your unconditional devotion to him, turning out to be your very own downfall.

The only one that would know of these struggles would be your baby, the one to accompany you through the darkest point of your life, hopefully to a brigther dawn.

And yet… you’ve never felt so alone.

Time surprisingly, went quicker than you anticipated, though not as easy as you would’ve wanted.

Life in your new home was still very difficult to get used to, even when it’s been months since… that.

But with the job you managed to get (whatever place hired pregnant women—they’re supposed to be at home, some would say, you didn’t care.) and some extra jujutsu work you did on the side, you managed, enough to give you a, not exactly comfortable, but just enough lifestyle.

As long as you sacrificed all the things you once considered granted and turned them into luxuries: such as warm showers, take out, and the sweets you liked to indulge once in a while; your pregnancy has been horrible because of that, and that’s without considering the medical bills you’re struggling to pay as well.

But if that wasn’t enough, your noisy neighbors presented issues of their own as well.

You’re not going to deny that your presence there was like moths to a flame, starting from your somewhat suspicious acquisition—all cash—of the small house you were living in.

From there, your loneliness, alongside your pregnancy; single mothers were unheard of, or rather, highly criticized, thus, all eyes were on you, down to your smallest movement.

Yet, even then, as annoying as they were, you were ok as long as it meant you never get to see those that hurt you ever again.

However, what you want isn’t necessarily what’s going to happen, and that would be reminded of one fateful night with an unsuspecting knock, just after you were getting ready to go to bed.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone came to bother you, but it would be the first time someone did so at this hour, and with such insistence that far from worrying you, it made you angrily storm at the entrance, ready to demand who’d be so inconsiderate enough to visit you so late at night!

And you’d get your answer soon enough, in the most shocking, horrifying, if not sorrowful manner you could’ve possibly anticipated, prompting you to close the door as soon as you saw his face, or attempted to, his reflexes much faster than yours.

“Get—get away from me!” you shrieked, hands trembling as you did your best to hold the door shut against his overwhelming strength— but even your husband has admitted that in terms of power, he excels like no one else.

“Y/N—” he breathes, somewhat amused that you’d been able to hold him off as much as you could, though eventually he was able to break free from your grasp and enter your home, you step away from him soon after.

“What are you even doing here?!” you gasp. “No—that doesn’t matter! I don’t want to see you! I’m not going back!”

“I’m not here to take you back” He quickly responds, eyes falling down to your stomach, making his face soften at the subtle bump evident through your clothes—with this sight, he knows he can’t take you back.

“Then—then why are you here, Toji?”

Perhaps Toji needed to see through his own eyes, what the whispers went on about at the estate regarding your absence.

He wasn’t there when it happened, promised himself to be far away from you as soon as your pregnancy was announced to the estate.

Toji would’ve normally taken this opportunity to act on retribution against his family, rub it on their face that the future of the clan came from him, a low life.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do so when you cheerfully paraded around the halls, happy to finally be forming a family with your beloved husband, even though it wasn’t of his making.

For the first time in his life, he thought himself to be too cruel for having planned such atrocities against the only person that has never been rude with him, always welcoming him with a smile on your face, or at least whatever you permitted when not following Naoya around like a lost puppy.

And the baby… well, he won’t deny that he was glad that his child would have a vastly different life from his—with you as his mother, it couldn’t be any other way.

Or so he believed.

Even when promising to keep away, he still attempted to check in on you, especially now that you were pregnant, whenever he had to go to the estate that is. That day was no be no exception, begrudgingly coming back to see what else he could scam out of his family to ensure his living outside.

Toji’s slyly scanned the hallways for your figure, the briefest indication of such, either through your giggle, staff, or even his cousin’s annoying voice—there were moments where he imagined how delightful it must’ve been to have you by his side, instead of Naoya’s; to be receiver of your laughter instead of that man who clearly didn’t deserve you.

But even if it was with him, he still found comfort in the fact that you were around, there.

Not like now, gone from Naoya’s side.

In fact, you were nowhere to be seen! Not with your staff, not eating by the gardens, or even indulging in one of your husband’s idiocies.

Nothing.

And no one had seen you either.

Or more like didn’t want to say, that much became evident when he stomped his way towards a nearby staff member, demanding your whereabouts, only to be responded with a fret falsely feigning ignorance, or foolish diplomacy.

At the prospect of your disappearance, Toji felt his blood run cold, almost like the estate lost whatever little warmth it had, worsening each time he asked another servant, and he’d get the same answer.

The implications behind your absence were growing heavier in his mind, to the point it sunk his heart to his stomach…

And propelled him to the one person who would undoubtedly know where you were.

“Naoya—Where is Y/N?!” Toji commands the moment he sees the heir, the young man instinctively flinched at the sight of his angered cousin, almost as if he knew what was running through his mind and attempted to make a run for it, only to be stopped by the collar, dead on his tracks. “Do not run away, coward! Answer me!”

“She’s—she’s not here anymore.” Is what Naoya manages to squeak, but Toji doesn’t need to be reminded the obvious.

“Where. Is. She.” He hisses, the worst of his assumptions slowly becoming a reality. “What have you done to her?!”

“What—what needed to be done!” Naoya gasps. “I—I couldn’t allow it!”

Toji doesn’t remember much after Naoya told him that the clan decided she was better off on her own—only that the heir was on the floor, bloodied and whimpering while attempting to cover his face, either trying to control the throbbing of his skin, the blood from spilling anywhere else, or perhaps even shame.

No. It couldn’t be the last. To have done something like what he did required a shameless man to do so.

Nonetheless Toji didn’t bother to find out nor to be reprimanded, quick to assert what needed to be done and heading out the estate; he couldn’t even bother cursing those that had done nothing but the worst after the worst, each time a new low, for his mind solely pertained in finding you.

It took him a while to do so, as expected, but he knew it was only a matter of asking around for a woman that simply didn’t fit to do the job—and such, here he is now.

“I want—needed to see you.” Toji takes a step closer.

“Get—get away from me.”

“No, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“You were fine doing that before—what’s so different from now?” You spat.

“This is different, Y/N. You’re alone—and you need me.”

“I’m not alone—I don’t need you.” You gasp. “Get away from me or I’ll—I’ll call the police!.”

“If you don’t need me, then the baby does.”

It’s like he struck a nerve with his words, because soon after tears would begin to fall down your cheeks, revealing that the sight you attempted to portray, the strength you so fiercely put up against him, was nothing but a façade, a way to hide the fact that indeed, you needed help.

Exhausted from facing all these uncertainties on your own, afraid.

But not anymore, not when Toji was here, more than willing to step in, as seen in the way he swiftly holds you in his arms when he sees you almost faint from distress, attempting to comfort you as you continued to cry.

“Get— get away from me…!” you’d say again, still fighting against his hold. However, he doesn’t fight it, he simply allows you to vent, taking in all the pain and hatred your heart harbored from the moment you were kicked out of the estate. “Don’t touch me!”

“I’m not leaving” Toji insists, he feels you trying to squirm your way out from him, but his strength doesn’t allow it. “You can struggle all you want, but I’m not leaving you on your own—”

“What difference does it make to you? Your family abandoned me to my luck! And even forced my family to do the same!” you breathe, Toji’s eyes widen—he did not know that; his fury for the Zen’in grows, but this is not the time to deal with that. “They don’t care if I die on the street!”

“I know.” He murmurs, holding you tighter against him.

“And I—And I tried my best to—to move on, but I can’t! I can’t do it!” you sob. “I’m so alone, and scared, and—and ashamed! I don’t want to live like this anymore!! I don’t want to die!”

“…I know.”

“Why—why is this happening to me?! All I ever wanted was for—was for Naoya to love me. I never wanted anything else! I never wanted money, I never wanted to hurt anyone either! I just—I just wanted to live a happy life with him, to make him happy!

But then he—he tossed me away, at one thing he didn’t like, he acted like I didn’t even matter! He didn’t even put up a fight to defend me! he just—he just let them hurt me, like what we had was—a lie!

Did he never—did he even love me?”

Speechless, all Toji could do is continue holding you as you kept on pouring out your feelings, hearing the heart wrenching sound of your sobs that just kept reflecting how wounded you were by Naoya’s betrayal, the transgressions of his family, and the disappointment of yours.

And all because of something you didn’t even suggest in the first place. It was him who made his way into Naoya’s mind, and eventually, it was Naoya who pushed you into it, regardless of what happened later.

He wanted to do it; you know?

He wanted to go back there and murder them for all they’d done against you.

But when he left that place one last time, he promised he would stop thinking about himself, and start doing what is right—what was needed.

If Naoya wasn’t to step up and be a man, then he would.

Toji would gladly throw away his own pride, his own anger and thirst for vengeance, just to see you safe and happy once more.

Things your husband, could simply not—but he… he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“I promise you.” Toji would reassure you once carefully placing you down to the bed after tiring yourself from crying, followed by a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“I swear, Y/N— I will not let my family do the same things they’ve done to me to our child. Even if it costs me my life, I will do everything in my power to keep the two of you safe.”

And unlike your husband, he means it.

Yes, a second part is coming :) just gotta put this one out first hehe.

Anyways, it's not exactly what you asked but I think it's going there??? I mean Toji STEPPED UP and was like OK imma take care of my baby mama. also, here Naoya .I. put it where it fits. ugh, can't say we're done with him...

agihajkgksa I'm excited for what's to come, I haven't written this level of angst in a while!! oof!!!

Thank you so much for your patience and for sending this ask :> I'm super happy you've like my oneshot so much!! I hope you'll be able to like this too!!

Take care, and see you soon! ❤️❤️

#ask #toji x reader #jjk toji #naoya x reader #naoya zen'in #toji fic #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk angst #toji zenin #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #toji x y/n #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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candyk0rn · 8 months ago

Note

Hey, can I request a break up with Nanami, Gojo, and Geto? I'm in a mood for angst :')

⚘Breakup⚘

Woah okay first time I’ve ever written smth like this so I’m excited! Thanks for the ask, have a good day/night!

Warnings: ummm breaking up with someone is sad y’all

Included: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru

G.Satoru:

Fights or arguments don’t really happen with Gojo

Because he doesn’t let them happen

When things get even the slightest bit heated, he avoids them

He erases them with clinginess and jokes, always brushing it off when he should definitely be serious

And this is one of many things that drew your relationship to its inevitable end

Not only was it his lack of ability to read the room, but also his dangerous job

With the privilege of being considered the ‘strongest’, that means the strongest enemies are after him as well

You cannot begin to count the amount of times he said he’d leave for a three day mission, only to be gone for an entire week with no further communication

There’s a large risk at hand with being even so much as associated with Gojo

Let alone being his romantic partner

A certain bounty has been placed on your head too, you’re sure.

And that is just dusting against the surface of the cracks that eventually took control of your relationship

And to be honest, he doesn’t take the break up that serious either

Not until you stop returning your calls and haven’t come home for a few hours

Maybe it’ll make him realize, but who knows?

N.Kento:

Nanami is tricker than Gojo.

But in some regards, I believe he’s very similar

For Nanami is perceived, at least, to be a ‘simple’ man

For someone who hates work, who would much rather go on a long vacation,

He takes his occupation extremely seriously

Both his normal income job and his sorcerer work

And sometimes you truly felt he held his job before you, his partner

And sometimes, he would openly admit to taking priority elsewhere than with you

Which, in some cases understandable, still hurts

One time, later in your relationship, he has forgotten your anniversary

Well, he hadn’t forgotten it fully

But he didn’t celebrate in anyway, needing his hours at work

Nor did he intend to celebrate in anyway, even though much earlier to the date you told him you would like to

Unlike Gojo, the breakup is rather smooth

He simply and utterly refuses to leave on a bad note

And he will not only leave in good terms, but he wants to leave respectfully

But he will be in shock for a very long time afterwards

And he doubts the feeling of deep regret will leave anytime soon…

G.Suguru:

I don’t think people really recognize how others are affected when someone begins to spiral

Not only is the person who is going through the hard time hurting and being drained, the person helping is drained too

And unfortunately, this is what happened to yours and Geto’s relationship

Seeing someone you care for so deeply begin this downward trajectory is hard

And you swore to be by his side through it all..

Until he began to do some things you didn’t exactly approve of

Once the count of dead began rising by his hand, you found yourself losing sympathy bit by bit

It’s a hard pill to swallow, it’s a difficult thing to accept

And it’s an even worse thing to end

To hang on to the hope that the old Suguru is simply trapped behind a mask of pain would be futile

It’s either accept unfortunate route his travelled down, or follow in your own beliefs

And even though you once thought you could help him wash his hands clean of blood,

There will always be a spot left unattended

And spots only grow until you no longer see skin

Only red.

He doesn’t actually believe you at first when you bring up leaving him

In fact, he says to your face he doesn’t believe you

Like Gojo, he assumes that after you calm down you’ll be running back to him

But you don’t

And there’s very few times he’s felt regret.

He has done everything in his power to make sure the word isn’t even in his vocabulary

But there’s that sting in his heart and that dizziness in his head

That can only be described as loss.

Thanks for reading!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #angst #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #x reader #fanfic #fyp #headcanons #x y/n #for you page

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avocadoraisin · 3 months ago

Note

what are your Hoffstrahm werepire! au hcs??

i hope you're ready bc im basically gonna tell you most of, if not all of the sporadic details of their "story" thats been simmering in my head. theyre subject to change on any given day because, well, this is my imagination LMAO i can take this daydream wherever i want

one day parts of it could be a fic? idk. i dont think i have enough of a beginning, middle, and end of a real cohesive "story" so it might just exist as snapshots in the form of little comics forever.

and some of this is, in fact, alluded to in that really horny heat fic i wrote akjhfjb

pre-meeting

Hoffman:

-He and his sister were both vampires and have been for a little while. not sure for how long. the details of how they turned are also hazy

-but they were alone together and moved cities often, only having each other to rely on. they had to "restart" someplace new every few years. possibly because theyve been around too long and would start to arouse suspicion from neighbors noticing them not aging in 10 years. maybe they were in danger of aggressive rival vampires competing for hunting grounds territory, or anything else making them feel unsafe

-at last they settle on Sawville which seemed to be untouched by vampire drama. (as far as they knew at the time)

-Angelina always had too big of a heart and, as a vampire herself, wanted to believe in the good in people. wanted to believe in someone's ability to change. which is what she tells herself when she falls in love w that asshole Seth

-Mark is not trusting of him at all

-Angelina trusted in Seth too much, trusting him with the information that she was a vampire

-Instead of a slit throat she gets a wooden stake to the heart

-Mark is too shell shocked to leave Saw City i guess. he already distrusted humans in general but now he knew he could never, ever trust his heart in a human. not like she was able to.

-When Seth is released Mark cooks up the pendulum and gets caught by John just like in canon

-blah blah hazy details he and Amanda and Lawrence are stuck under John's thumb. i think in the fic i made it purposefully vague if Lawrence and John are also vampires, im now leaning toward Lawrence also being a vampire (i did draw him as a bat recently after all) and John is still undecided

-He knows werewolves exist, but never met one. He's not terribly concerned with encountering one but knows there's an eternal feud between the species.

Strahm:

-his early days are also hazy to me

-he's been a werewolf since i think teenagehood and it was something he kinda grew up with and learned to somewhat tame over the years

-great idea based on this anon (and everything else in the post, verbatim) but maybe he has troubles remembering his childhood or the time around when he first changed, so really all he remembers from early on is how he trained to control the power to be productive in society

-he can change at-will whenever but on full moons it is involuntary, and hes more prone to going wild. he still doesnt trust himself, so once a month he chains himself up to pipes in the basement.

-he also knows vampires are out there, and that they're bad news. Werewolves instinctually want to kill them for a reason. They have no souls and drain people of their blood, they're vermin to be exterminated. or so he thinks. he's never met one yet.

-maybe he decided to go the FBI route growing up for whatever reasons he did in canon. maybe it was a drive to learn more about whats going on in the undergrowth out there. on the everlasting hunt to find more people like him.

-what will he do when he does find one? what if they're not what he hopes?

-with his heightened senses, he knows he has a tactical advantage at work so he flies up the ranks. he's the FBI's most effective bloodhound, and they have no idea why. they dont question it. he gets shit done and thats all they need.

-some years into their partnership, he tells Perez the truth. She's the closest someone's ever been to him in many, many lonely years, and if there's anyone he can trust with the truth, it's the person he trusts with his life

-it took a lot of prying questions but she accepts him for how he is and they are more effective as a Human and Werewolf FBI duo as ever

-and as best friends, too. a tiny pack, if you will

Meeting:

-their meeting

-Hoffman made a frustratingly good point, and Strahm cant prove anything yet. But he's also just so damn curious. because he's never actually met a vampire before, and he secretly wanted to know which rumors were true.

-they also have an incentive to not immediately just out each other's species secrets. they dont want worldwide panic. they both know trusting humans is difficult and everything about that can backfire. its best that their species drama gets resolved privately.

-They both get a lil too curious about each other

-Hoffman keeps being annoyingly flirty with him too. like "arent u a lil curious lol 🧛‍♂️🍆 you can kill me after, ok? 😘"

-they settle some curiosities one night in a sleepover of discovery lol

-they secretly catch feelings a la most fics out there where they start out with a one-night hate-sex stand

-Strahm realizes that he doesnt really care that Hoffman is the "enemy" species, he seems like a normal guy. hes not soulless at all. he also has a sadness about him, just like him. and its so amazing to meet another creature, to meet someone else that he doesnt have to hide around. someone who isn't scared of him. he's not alone in the world

-Hoffman realizing he also doesn't have to be alone again, though a part of his heart is still guarded. and hes still got the jigsaw thing going on. strahm still suspects it.

-The two of them don't really want to kill each other. Like, imagine a cartoon scene with two characters super slow-mo punching each other like "Im gonna punch you! here it comes! yep! im so.. totally.. gonna punch you!" because neither of them really want to do it. until they're collapsed in each other's arms because they realize they dont hate each other, they need each other. because. im a sap.

-over at team Jigsaw, instead of infighting and killing each other to one-up each other like in canon, the apprentices realize they're all being manipulated and start to band together. vampires together strong.

-hoffman confesses the predicament hes stuck in to Strahm. their whole world is already so insane and wrought with otherworldly violence, he knows damn well that sometimes things are more than meets the eye, so hes more willing to hear him out

-Peter more or less accepts everything. he watches from the sidelines and lends a hand if needed, having grown sympathetic to their cause and seeing that theyre all just trying to escape this cult. but its also not his fight, he stays out of it, just helps them get away with it legally.

-if John is a human, they all corner him and idk probably drink all his blood. Scar vs The Hyenas style. if John is a vampire, maybe theres an epic fight if hes like a super strong elder type who just went deranged with power over centuries, Underworld style.

Post-Jigsaw Life

-when its all over, the vampires are kind of unsure of where they belong now. they scatter a bit but still keep in touch, kind of like a weird little family now, having gone through all of that together. maybe they can kind of help each other survive too. a coven of their own.

-Hoffman still isnt sure exactly of where he and Strahm fall now, now that the reign of terror is done. hes going to need to drink blood again to survive, jigsaw violence or not. will Strahm be okay with the kind of monster he has to be to live? he doesnt drain people dry, but he hates doing it anyway. and the doctor vampire of the group can only smuggle them so much blood from the hospitals.

-they realize theyre in love and can try to make this work, hearts fully open to each other. no more secrets between them

-One day when Hoffman is really starving, in an ultimate show of trust, Strahm allows him to try to drink from him. and they learn that while it tastes bad, it works, and they could have a symbiotic relationship.

-While bearing his throat and allowing Mark to drink is the ultimate display of trust for Peter, being in his extremely vulnerable bat form is the ultimate display of trust for Mark

-They tell Perez the truth about Mark, to loop one more friend into the circle of beloved, trusted people in Peter's life who know everything. Mark also gains +1 family, in a way, in addition to his coven. big emphasis on everyone realizing you dont have to be alone

-Mark helps Peter learn to control himself on full moons so he can fully control himself around the one other person he cares about, like this

-still have a lot of learning to do about each other, navigating their relationship together despite their species differences. thats been the subject of most of my art and the fic and other discussions in my werepire au tag lmao

-sometimes a pack can be a werewolf, a human, a vampire, and the two other stray vampires he kind of picked up along the way

#werepire au #hoffstrahm #coffinshipping #vampires and werewolves #jenna answers #jenna shut up #peter strahm #mark hoffman

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lunasuccor · 7 months ago

Text

Alone Together

Hiei x (Fem)Reader

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Author’s Note: This fic came from the inspiration I got from reading other user’s works about Hiei and being such a huge fan of his character. Mainly written for me and my friend a fellow Hiei enjoyer, this is kind of a feel good type fic that has a lot of buildup playing on his curiosity and softer side. When I first wrote this I never thought about posting it anywhere, but the more I wrote the happier I was with it, and near the end I realized how proud I was of it and wanted to share it around. I may be posting another part or two, and if I do, feel free to send me an ask with suggestions if you liked this one :) enjoy!

TW: Blood, Hickeys, Biting, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Pinning Down, Minors DNI, 18+

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Everyone had been asking why you were suddenly taking a different route home from class, not walking with your “friends”, and even going a good distance out of your way. Your explanation was always the same, that you just like being able to walk by the water - a lie of course. Your interest wasn’t so much the water glistening during the sunset, but a person who sometimes could be found there. Ever since you were young you’d seen and felt things you couldn’t explain, like the creature that knocked aside your parents car like a toy back when you were in middle school. Of course no one believed you, that your parent’s death in that crash was no accident, so you had learned to keep whatever you were seeing and feeling to yourself. Maybe that’s what drew you to him, the dark haired boy dressed in black, sometimes laying in the grass by the river other times miraculously standing on telephone poles nearby. You never really gave how he got up there much thought, all you knew was that like you, he seemed to be so alone.

Finally, you reach the river and like everyday, give a cautious glance around for the mysterious boy. Despite your numerous trips this way passing him, you’d never dared speak to him or even given him more than a passing glance. You’ve put yourself out there far too many times in an attempt to make friends, only to have your hand slapped away. It was enough that you and the boy could share in this moment of silence together as you strolled by, that, and your own imagination. But looking down the street you notice him, with a group, and your heart sinks. You retreat back behind the building, sliding down the side of it to sit on the ground, pulling your legs in. Of course he’s not alone, no one would be as lonely as you are.

You lean out from the side of the building to get a look at them all. The tallest one had orange hair in a pompadour, which was….certainly a style choice. Both him and the other dark haired guy looked rather plain, average even. The third guy had pretty features and long red hair, and then there was him. Though you’d never noticed before quite how short he is, it hardly seemed to matter, as his voice and demeanor easily dominated the conversation when he felt the need. You suddenly felt your face turning red, and realized you probably shouldn’t think about him and “dominate” in the same sentence. You shake your head to dismiss such thoughts and then you notice his ear twitch ever so slightly, he motions to turn his head but you’ve already retreated back behind the building. After a moment, you dare another peek and try to focus on what they’re saying, the boy seems to be disagreeing with something. Suddenly through the groups arguing you hear “C’mon Hiei”, which he seems to answer to.

“Hiei” you repeat back to yourself under your breath, though somehow he seems to have heard and whips around in place, and you can no longer be sure if he was able to see you as you darted back into hiding. Still you listen as they seem to resume talking, causing you to sigh in relief. You sit for a while with your eyes shut, listening for them to finally leave so you can finish walking home. Letting your mind wander, you think about how you’ll go about trying to approach him the next time you come this way. Not that you’d ever have the courage to do something as bold as that, besides you feel it’s doubtful he’d be interested in someone like you anyways.

After some time you hear them saying goodbyes and breathe a small sigh of relief, you open your eyes to get ready to go and yelp involuntarily. There Hiei stood mere inches from you, his stature meaningless since you are sitting on the ground. He stares daggers at you saying nothing, perhaps expecting you to merely flee yet you sit there frozen, staring at him as well like cornered prey. After a moment, your heart begins to pound in your chest, you’ve passed him countless times but never been this close. As much as you hate to admit it, you enjoy having him stand over you like this, right now he may as well be 8 feet tall. You yourself feeling so small and helpless, your mind spirals thinking about the possible things he could do to you. Suddenly, Hiei also blushes, seeming almost embarrassed and angry.

“THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE THINKING ABOUT??” he blurts out before turning around seemingly to hide his face as he seethes.

“I…what?”

“Listen girl, I’m a demon, it would take less than a second for me to kill you.” He says turning around and pointing at you accusingly. “The idea of what I could do to you that would stimulate your sexual human desires should be the last thing on your mind! Now who are you, why were you listening in on our conversation and what are you doing here?”

You sigh, tell him your name and continue on to explain everything, he listens but clearly seems annoyed nonetheless. It feels rather strange that Hiei was just a stranger a few minutes ago, yet you find yourself so comfortable with him, demon or no. Hiei is surprisingly silent even as you finish explaining, perhaps some part of him understands your feelings, or maybe he’s just being polite - not that he seems like the type.

“So, is it…still okay if I come this way after school? Maybe talk with you?” You ask sheepishly, Hiei merely giving a vacant stare as though considering it, he closes his eyes and turns away.

“Do whatever you want, but don’t say I didn’t warn you that demons can be dangerous, and if you talk don’t expect me to converse with you.” Turning just his head to look at you, Hiei appears to be deep in thought, hesitating even.

“What’s the matter?” You ask tilting your head to the side, confident that he’s merely trying to find the words.

“...What even is ‘making out’ anyways” he says plainly, causing you to snicker a bit but turn red once more all the same. “Those words seemed to cross your mind a lot when I read it earlier, so what is it?”

“Um, well…it’s like you touch your lips together in a kiss but like, over and over. It’s what people do when they have a connection or you know like each-” You barely manage to get your description out at all then abruptly Hiei grips your side pushing you against the wall merely collapsing before he presses his body against yours to hold you up. He is warm, and a scent reminiscent of a campfire wafts about him, using his other hand he cups your face. Hiei’s staring at you once more but now there’s a curiosity in his glare, like he’s studying your reactions and wondering if they’re the right ones. Grabbing you at the back of your neck he pulls you down somewhat - into a kiss, your heart flutters and his warmth seems to spread through your body. After a moment, he pulls away, still keeping your faces touching.

“Is this what you had in mind, how you pictured it?”

You find yourself unable to find the words to answer but manage a few quick nods, Hiei then takes this as reassurance and kisses you again, then again.

Despite supposedly not knowing what making out was, he quickly finds his rhythm, even starting to grip your hair causing you to moan softly. You feel your breath getting heavy and the growing excitement between your legs, when suddenly he stops, pulling back to look at you while quite red himself. Slowly, he pulls away as you get your balance back, then turns on his heels taking a few steps away.

“Interesting.” Hiei says without turning around, and in a flash he’s gone. You slump back against the wall trying to process what just happened, soon enough however, you collect yourself and head home.

————————————————————————

The next day went by in a blur, all you were able to think about was Hiei, about feeling his warmth again. As you walked to the river, you couldn’t help hoping he’d be there and in the mood to talk - among other things. You shook your thoughts away once more, after all Hiei seemed to do what he did out of curiosity more than anything else. Turning the corner to the river, you peek around for your mysterious ‘friend’, and there he was - laying in the grass on the hill without a care in the world. Doing your best to still your rapidly beating heart, you approach, stopping once the sidewalk meets the grass.

“Hey Hiei, it’s me *****.” you provide your name again half expecting him to have forgotten you, he doesn’t open his eyes but answers you nonetheless.

“Yes, I knew it was you, human.”

“Is….it okay if I sit with you?” You request hesitantly, yet Hiei still does not move, hands supporting his head and his dark coat billowing in the wind.

“As I said, do whatever you like.” Hiei answered you plainly, he almost appears mad - frustrated even, although he’s doing his best to hide it.

Regardless you quietly step through the grass and sit a few feet beside him, setting down your bag as well. You sit for a moment enjoying the gentle breeze, the sunset glistening on the river, the soft fresh grass beneath you. You may have been alone and sat in silence for much of your life, but never like this, sitting beside Hiei gave you a comfort you’ve never known. He can struggle to hide it all he likes, but you can sense Hiei more than simply tolerates your presence, perhaps even enjoyed the moment you shared yesterday.

“You have an unusual level of spirit awareness, you know.” Hiei said suddenly, shattering the silence and startling you.

“Spirit Awareness?”

“...Demons can make themselves invisible to humans in this world, I’m doing it right now, and usually am for that matter.” Hiei turns his head towards you and opens a single eye as he talks. “So right now, you look crazier than everyone already seems to think you are.”

“...That’s…fine, I’m comfortable here - with you.” You manage to force the words out while looking away, and when you turn your gaze back, he’s staring at you. It’s just like yesterday, he’s gauging your reactions, searching for anything you might be holding back. You get the distinct impression he doesn’t spend much time around people, and he’s learned to be cautious, never risking giving something away he shouldn’t.

“You’re a strange one, finding comfort beside a demon.” He turns his head back to stare at the sky before continuing “You have no idea the things I’ve done, the things I’m capable of doing.”

“I’d say you’re a strange one for finding comfort with me then.” You cover your mouth unsure where you even got such an absurd idea in your head, but then again he does seem interested in you doesn’t he? Looking back at Hiei you see he hasn’t moved or reacted, perhaps he didn’t hear you? Just then he laughs, sitting up to lean back on his hands.

“Oh? I tried out a single human gesture, let you sit here with me, and that must mean I’m utterly infatuated is that it?”

“Typically that’s what would happen, yeah though not necessarily in that order.” You explain calmly once he’s finished attempting to make a fool of you. “However, maybe it’s different for demons.”

“If you must know, mating simply isn’t as big a deal.”

“Is that so? Then you didn’t feel anything after yesterday?” You retort but Hiei seems to have lost interest as he turns back toward the river leaning on one knee, at least so you thought. Even with the sunset turning the river into a shimmering stream of golden light, you can still see Hiei’s cheeks redden as he thinks to himself. You inch closer, again taking in his woodsy campfire scent, Hiei only turning to look once your shoulders are nearly touching.

“That feeling? Your body, sending the blood rushing to your face like that.” You whisper to him, even reaching out to poke his face to make your point, but Hiei continues to stare unflinchingly. “That's what gave me the idea you’re comfortable with me.” Feeling ever bolder, suddenly you cup his face in your hand, and kiss him - a long heartfelt kiss. You feel the familiar warmth spread through your body as Hiei hesitantly places his hand on yours, gripping it tight enough to pull grass up with it, as though he was afraid to get lost. When you pull away, Hiei’s expression fades back to normal ever so slowly, and he turns to face the river once more without another word.

After sitting together for a while, you finally attempt to get to your feet, only to realize Hiei is still holding your hand. You lift up your hand and Hiei turns, watching you curiously. Removing your palm from his grip, you then slowly take the opposite hand and interlock your fingers with his. You then give his hand a gentle squeeze and Hiei gives a much rougher squeeze in return, though he seems to get the idea. You smile and take back your hand but Hiei merely lays back down onto the grass with his eyes closed as he was when you arrived. Picking up your bag, you make your way back to the sidewalk, but stop when you hear Hiei call your name.

“See you tomorrow.” He uttered the words so simply, but you could feel the weight that was behind them.

“See you tomorrow.” You repeat back with more enthusiasm, then noticing the faintest smile on his face, you smile and head home.

————————————————————————

Another day of class, and another day of doodling poorly in the margins of your papers, constantly distracted by thoughts of Hiei. You haven’t been able to stop from wondering what else Hiei might’ve seen in your mind that day, what else he might be curious about. Funnily enough, you’ve never fallen for anyone, even your kiss with him was your first. Still what you lack in experience, you make up for in imagination, and the long list of dark romance movies you’ve seen has given you plenty to think about. You reach your typical meeting spot but Hiei was oddly nowhere to be found, you give the area a good once over to be sure, but eventually resign yourself to sitting back down in the grass.

Besides your spot you can still barely make out the indent in the grass where Hiei was laying just yesterday, you smile until a chilling thought slips into your mind. Remembering Hiei’s words about how crazy you must look to people since he’s invisible to everyone without Spirit Awareness, you fold your arms, looking back toward the river. After a moment you grip yourself tighter, reassuring yourself that you’re not crazy, Hiei is real and he’ll be here. Giving Hiei’s spot in the grass a few quick side glances, you take a moment to look around again, it’s mostly warehouses around here so there is rarely anyone around as usual.

“Hiei? Are you here?” You ask the open air beside you, considering that maybe your Spirit Awareness isn’t high enough to see him today, you have no idea how that works after all.

Suddenly, you’re startled by laughter from behind you, it seems you somehow failed to notice a group of boys from your class walking by on the sidewalk behind you. You blush and turn back towards the river, thoroughly embarrassed and hoping they didn’t notice you talking to thin air. Closing your eyes and burying your head in your arms, you sit there a while, reassuring yourself once again that you’re not crazy. Finally, after the boys have long gone and the dark of night begins settling in, you get up and head home.

————————————————————————

The next day you’re heading back, and although you get the feeling you’re being followed for some reason, you push on regardless. Hoping that yesterday he may have merely been busy, you hold out hope that Hiei will return today, even having thrown on some makeup and the star earrings you have left from you mothers belongings. Cautiously, you approach the river again, only to discover Hiei is once again absent. Even the indent in the grass has since stood back into full vigor, you make to approach the grass to sit but stop on the sidewalk, considering just heading home instead of waiting in futility. You’ve come this way for over a month now, and Hiei was always in this area, the fact that he hasn’t been here might mean he won’t come back.

“Did you come here to talk to yourself again girl?” A voice calls out behind you and in your desperation you whip around.

“Hiei?” You blurt out, only to see the boys who were walking by yesterday, you collect yourself as best you can and stand up straight. Though it’s not enough to hide the fact that you’re blushing in embarrassment, and the boys chuckle to themselves, certainly at your expense.

“Is that your imaginary friend’s name? It sounds like even your imaginary friend has left you, huh?” The other boys chuckle to themselves again, and you hold your bag tighter in your arms, you can’t believe you mistook this guy for Hiei and the frustration shows on your face.

“Hiei is not imaginary.“

“Isn’t he? Everyone who comes by here says you’re a freak who’s been talking to yourself.”

“That doesn’t make it true.” You insist back, though even now you’re second guessing your actions, one of the boys grabs your arm but you pull away.

“Why don’t you just admit you’re a freak, and this worlds better off without freaks.” He says back before nodding and the boys get a better grip on your arms.

“Stop it! Cut it out!” You cry out, but no one comes to your aid, the sound echoing off into the distance, before being drowned out by the sound of the river. The boy lifts his hand, taking hold of one of your earrings.

“You may be a useless freak, but these sure seem like they’d be worth something.”

“Those were my mothers, stop!” You yell and scream, but he gets a grip on it regardless, and instead of removing it he simply pulls it down. Tugging your ear harder and harder still, you stop struggling not wanting to hurt yourself but it doesn’t matter, he tears the earring straight out of your ear lobe. Tears start streaming down your face, it may be a small cut in your ear but between that and realizing you’re truly alone it’s just too much. You hear something faint over your crying but everything is such a blur, you can barely feel when he reaches for your other ear.

“Move another muscle, and I’ll end your pathetic lives.” You heard it that time, the voice and tone unmistakable, it’s Hiei. Sure enough his voice is enough to make the boys freeze, easing their grip on you as they turn their heads.

“What the-”

“I didn’t give you permission to speak worm.” Hiei’s voice sounds more aggressive, as though he’s teetering on the edge of erupting, similar to how he seemed to speak with that group before. “Release her. NOW.”

Shuddering at his words they comply, letting you slip carefully to the ground, you grip your ear keeping the pressure on it. You’re in a lot of pain, but you continue to shed tears of joy all the same. You slowly look over at Hiei several feet away through your tear-filled eyes, and he’s giving you the same stare he always has, though there’s a heat behind his eyes. He raises his head to stare at the boys, now backing away from him besides the one who ripped your earring out. In an instant, he closes the gap and has drawn a sword he’s touching to the boy’s throat, his expression unchanged. Each of the other boys starts freaking out and starting to calm down yourself, you can see why, their ears have been cut in a similar fashion to yours.

“I suggest you return that, before I make you.” Hiei hisses at the boy, he drops it onto the ground near you and raises his hands. Unsatisfied, Hiei slashes across the boy’s already bloody hand, though it doesn’t appear deep. Clutching his palm, the boy backs up to his friends and they run off. Hiei places his sword away and kneels down to your level, you can’t help but smile regardless of the state your face is in. “And just what are you grinning about?” He demands while placing his palm gently on your head.

“I’m just happy to see you.” You say simply, then Hiei gets to his feet offering you his hand and helping you up.

“You really followed me, Kurama?” Hiei questions as he turns his head, all the while keeping a firm hold on your hand.

“You can hardly blame me, Hiei.” Kurama answers as he steps out from the shadow of a nearby alley, he’s the pretty boy with red hair you noticed Hiei talking to the other day. “You were in such a hurry to get back to the human world, and I know all too well that’s not like you.”

Hiei gives a sharp exhale, tips his head in your direction, and releases your hand. Kurama steps over to you asking to see, and in seconds he’s healed your ear, apologizing that you’ll have to get it re-pierced. After a handshake and a quick goodbye, he takes off walking away, apparently not nearly as concerned about making a snappy exit as Hiei. Hiei takes a few steps away in the other direction, then stops and turns to you over his shoulder, staring at you expectantly.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.” His voice much calmer now, he waits for you to grab your other earring, and you catch up to him offering your hand. Hiei hesitates, then holds your hand just as you had instructed the other day, obviously the difference in height between you makes it difficult but you make due.

————————————————————————

Hiei is silent most of the way home, despite the fact that your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest, being this close with him feels like a dream. Still a few blocks from home, he speaks up.

“I had something to take care of, duties, obligations.”

“I gathered. You don’t need to apologize, Hiei.” You respond in kind, but Hiei merely stops on the spot, unmoving.

“It was just humans this time.”

“What?”

“It could have been worse.” Hiei sounds tense, though not angry, like he can’t just bring himself to voice his concern.

You gently tug on his hand, and Hiei continues moving with you. When you reach your door at the apartment building, he stops again, releasing your hand. You unlock and open the door, Hiei turns away but you catch his arm.

“How…um…how much of what I was thinking did you see the other day?” You ask hesitantly, but he does not respond, and only turns back toward you. You pull his arm out of his pocket, and gripping his hand, you lead him inside.

Once you’re both inside, you set to work attempting to tidy up a bit, since you haven’t had a guest in - ever. Hiei looks about and finding your coat hooks, he removes his in one swift motion, placing his sword down gently near it. He takes a few more cautious steps into your apartment carefully taking in his surroundings, then stopping when he notices your open bedroom door. Once you’ve finished you walk over to where Hiei is and take his hand once more.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He whispers, usually you have a good idea of what Hiei is thinking, although he’s quiet his body is rather honest. Yet you can’t figure out what’s on his mind right now, maybe despite his usual calm collected attitude you’ll have to walk him through it.

You take his face in your hands and kiss him deeply, He returns the gesture whole heartedly. Pulling away, Hiei manages to sweep you up in one quick motion, princess-carrying you to your bed. Setting you down gently, Hiei wastes no time climbing on top of you, taking only a moment to gently caress your cheek. Staring at you and once again reminding you of your first meeting, a beast who’s cornered his prey, except you’re far more willing.

Hiei leans in and kisses you, letting slip a moan you lay back helplessly as he trails a line of them down your neck. You reach up to feel his side through his shirt, gripping it needily, your other hand snaking around his arm as his hand travels up running fingers through your hair. Slowly Hiei’s grip begins to tighten, tugging ever so playfully at your hair before biting down on your neck lightly, putting just enough pressure to leave his mark. However, it’s little more than a tease, Hiei’s taking it slow likely out of fear of hurting you. You mumble under your breath, and Hiei pauses to listen as you find the words in your throat.

“Harder . . . please.” You whimper to him and Hiei hesitates before obliging, getting a firmer grip on your hair, biting your neck deeper, sucking a second more intense hickey into your skin. His sharp canines threatening to pierce your skin, you yelp and moan all at once, your breathing getting heavier as you grip Hiei’s arm harder for comfort. When he pulls back you can hear him almost panting, his warm breath further teasing your sensitive new bruise. You lock eyes for a moment, your lips crashing against one another the next, your hands exploring each others aching bodies. Hiei’s hand traces teasingly over your breast, quickly throwing your uniforms tie aside and gripping the top button of your shirt then stopping.

You give a quick nod before tugging up his shirt in turn, Hiei instead taking it from you, repeating his previous trick and removing it in an instant. You giggle under your breath and Hiei gives a small smirk, kissing you again before moving back down to your neck, his fast hands making quick work of your shirt buttons. You take a moment to revel in his kissing while tracing your hands over his arms and back, his skin was warm, inviting to the touch, and coated in several scars depicting a lifetime of battle and hardship. It made it all the more comforting that he was being so careful with you, while so vulnerable at the same time.

Suddenly Hiei pulls your shirt open, and you sit up to remove it along with your bra. Placing his hand at the curve of your waistline, he ever so slowly moves upward towards your chest, teasing you. Taking and massaging your breast with one hand, Hiei kisses around your other before beginning to suck on your nipple, teasing it with his tongue and teeth. You squirm and moan beneath him from the sensation, running your fingers through his hair once more, the excitement beginning to grow between your legs.

After alternating, giving your chest the ample attention it deserves, Hiei gently traces his fingers down, slowly pulling up your skirt as he wraps his other arm around you. Coming to rest his hand over your underwear, you become aware of just how wet you are with excitement and moan, Hiei smirks as he pulls your panties aside. Runing his fingers along the wetness of your entrance, he teases it while rubbing his slicked thumb over your clit, you whimper in between moans.

“Please Hiei…” you beg and Hiei obliges, slowly inserting one finger, then two. You gasp from the sensation flowing through you and Hiei takes your exhale as a sign, beginning to slowly fuck you with his fingers, still tracing circles over your clit with his thumb. You cling tighter to Hiei, the edges of the room starting to soften, he holds you closer as you quickly begin approaching that peak. It all feels so surreal, of course you’ve touched yourself before, but here with the boy you’ve pined over for so long feels leagues more intense. You stare up at Hiei and he kisses you, moaning against his lips as he curls his fingers while maintaining the rhythm, quickly bringing you to a rather loud orgasm your muscles gripping fingers nearly in place.

You struggle to catch your breath in Hiei’s arms, his hand still idly teasing your entrance, he stares at you with a half smile still breathing heavily himself. Having calmed down a bit you run your fingers along the top of Hiei’s pants, taking a quick look at how excited he himself is, you flick your gaze back up to meet his.

In a moment you’ve both removed the last of your clothing, Hiei kissing you while lightly pushing you back into your place on the bed, you moan feeling the gentlist graze of his dick over your clit. Lining himself up, he begins grinding himself against your wetness, trailing kisses over your neck while pinning your hands above your head. Holding your wrists in place with one hand, he brings the other down to massage your breast once more, you can’t bear to hold back moaning as his kissing moves further up your neck.

“Hiei . . .” You barely whimper out between moans, yet he only nibbles your ear in response.

“Use your words, I want to hear you say it *****.“ Hiei whispers directly into your ear, hearing him say your name sending a shiver down your spine in the best way.

“Please. . .fuck me Hiei.” You beg in desperation, finally able to get out the answer that Hiei already knew.

With that, Hiei sat up somewhat to steady himself, flashing you a mischievous grin. You bite your lip, running your hands over his shoulders and back. The next second you can feel him starting to part you, moaning as you throw your head back, Hiei’s dick enters you slowly and completely as his hips meet yours. He moans along with you, leaning lower to wrap a protective arm around you, he pauses for a moment as if he’s overwhelmed which isn’t surprising given how tightly you feel yourself gripping him.

Then Hiei begins slowly but steadily fucking you, just as you begged, your nails now digging into his back. Keeping his pace as his eyes lock with yours, you kiss eachother deeply, and Hiei speeds up. Pounding his hips into yours, you can feel yourself approaching the peak again already, and based on Hiei’s sounds of pleasure you imagine he is too. Placing a hand on his face, you smile up at him, Hiei is thrusting hard when he suddenly cums and you along with him. The feeling of him filling you up pushing you over the edge, Hiei moans deeply between reaching the peak and your orgasmic grip on him as he does.

————————————————————————

The remainder of the night is a blur as you wake up, groggily rubbing your eyes you wonder what happened, your room is still a mess but theres no sign of Hiei.

Looking over at the clock, you realize you’re going to be late for school and hurriedly get ready. As you’re brushing your hair, and despite the bit of bruising on your neck, you can’t help but wonder if your night with Hiei was all a dream. Afterall, you can’t remember falling asleep after . . . on second thought, you probably shouldn’t think too hard about it in fresh underwear. Struggling to slip your shoes on, you grab the doorknob and pull it open. There leaning on the railing was Hiei, who turned around when you stepped out the door, you could feel your heart practically jump into your throat. Hiei sat staring, disinterested as usual, then held out his hand.

“Come on *****, I’ll walk you there.”

#hiei x reader #hiei x you #yyh hiei #hiei yu yu hakusho #hiei smut #Hawke Writing

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djarinsbeskar · 1 year ago

Text

HERE, THERE BE MONSTERS: THE MINOTAUR PART 3

A/N: Me? Updating within a week? Surely we're in the wrong timeline, but believe it! This update is indeed a canon event, as is our poor nymph's first encounter with the brutality of the Minotaur. Once again, special thanks to @astroboots for the beta and cosntant hype! Artwork by machiavellicro on deviantart!

Pairing: Minotaur!Din Djarin x Nymph!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ NO Minors)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: gross misuse of mythology, gore, horror, suggestive themes. Reminder that this is a MONSTER FUCKING fic, so be warned for future chapters.

NOTICE: If you want to keep updated on when I post fic turn on notifications for @djarinsbeskar-writes c:

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Day 4

Something was out there.

Maybe you were naïve to assume the size of the labyrinth would ensure you wouldn’t cross paths with the monster who made his home here, and for several days, you didn’t.

A gust of wind made you whimper and curl into the pocket of space between raised, gnarled roots of the tree you’d taken shelter in. Burying your face in your knees to wait out the gale, you berated yourself for the nth time for thinking the forest would be a better bet than the maze.

It was so, so much worse.

At least in the maze, there was only four directions, and it was easier to tell when things changed. In the forest, it was next to impossible.

Half the time, you suspected you were the one being altered, not the labyrinth. As though, by some divine power, the wind was sweeping you off to a different part of the prison to disorient you anew. But nothing was crueller than the moments the wind changed nothing.

You knew you should be grateful in those moments, but it had the opposite effect.

It plagued your mind with paranoia, leaving you doubtful of the route you planned to take, your vision tunnelled on trying to find every little difference with frantic eyes and a pounding heart.

Was that tree always there?

Had the next left turn always been that far away? Was it even left? Maybe it was right…

Does the ground feel more uphill than before?

It was hell, and a few days within its snare made you feel aged beyond your cosmic eternity.

But that wasn’t the worst of it… because like all prisons, there was always a gatekeeper.

Something was out there…

Instinct had sent you hiding as you scavenged for fallen walnuts and bramble berries to fill your empty stomach. Like one of Artemis’ deer, your head had snapped up when a sudden hush fell over the land. An unnatural disquiet that was imperceptible at first until you looked up at the organic awning of leaves and branches, none of which were making a sound as they rustled against each other.

A warning breeze disturbed the litter of leaves around you silently, causing goosebumps to erupt with molten adrenaline all over your body.

You hid in the first place you could find, slight enough to fit into such a cramped space entirely, the only perk to a disadvantageous physique that was continuously punished by the unrelenting environment.

Cold water drenched your spine now, locking your bones in place and refused to let you move even as your muscles complained from how small you made yourself huddled between the roots.

And then… whispering.

Humans?

“I’m tellin’ ya,” the voices were faint, far away but still too loud in the oppressive silence, “this dust is comin’ from somewhere.”

In the air, a heavy oppressive presence poisoned the air. Your eyes widened, trepidation coating your tongue in fluff.

Whatever was out there, whatever you sensed, was not them. Your stomach sank at the realization; they were doomed. Walking passengers of Charon… their sacrificial coins blinding them to the death they were walking into.

How did they not feel the atmosphere shift? The potency of malice thickening to a point it felt like even the blood in your veins was congealing, so tight you just knew the tension would have to burst eventually. But too skittish to give your position away lest you suffer another humiliating encounter as you had in the village, you were forced to wait them out and listen.

“We need food, not dust.” The other human grizzled.

Dread draped over you as your eyes dropped to your muddied feet where your toes curled into the dirt. A faint glimmer of stardust surrounded where you sat and doubtlessly littered anywhere you spent any prolonged amount of time in.

“Are ya kiddin’?” The footsteps stopped, your heartbeat following. “Look at how this shit glows. It could help us navigate this hellhole. Outside’a havin’ the strength and sword to kill the beast, tha’s the most valuable thing we could have in this place.”

Oh, merciful gods… you lamented, burying your face in your hands.

Your fear and anxiety were so heightened here that, unbeknownst to yourself, a fissure had formed that allowed your essence to escape. Your astral soul was instinctively reacting to the burden of stress placed on your physical body and expelling stardust tracks in a bid to guide you home.

But here, in this netherworld, even it didn’t know what direction to lead you and ended up falling in a flurry of cosmic snow that did the opposite of help. Indeed, it led everyone in the labyrinth to you.

If those people found you…

If he found you.

The thought surfaced just as you realize the voices had halted.

They finally noticed, the atmosphere a tightly drawn back bow and their hurried steps the trigger to finally release it. Suddenly, the vacuum of silence was dispelled, the rustle in the canopy a battle cry of nature and the thick foliage a shield of leaves that continued to separate you from the light of the stars.

The hairs on your arms stood on ends, a drag of fingers up the back of your neck that resulted in a violent shiver when you glanced behind you, paranoid. You inhaled shallowly; lungs suddenly starved of oxygen as though you’d been holding your breath since you first hid.

Maybe the land wasn’t the only thing affected by whatever caused that silence to fall.

And then, as if to prove its iniquitous presence, the silence was finally filled with a dreadful sound.

Crunch… crunch… crunch…

Your stomach dropped into a pool of freezing water, blood pounding in your ears as your heart hammered wildly. The weight behind those footsteps… it wasn’t human. It wasn’t divine. Not even Hephaestus with his mighty hammer and full belly carried the power of this new presence. Every footstep sank into the detritus littered forest floor, telling you in no uncertain terms that whatever was out there… was huge.

Monster…

A tumult of noises, animals fleeing as they were possessed by their instincts, resonated through the air.

Crunch… crunch… sniff… crunch… crunch… crunch… sniff.

Tears welled in your eyes.

You knew, on an instinctive level, what was up there. The very thing that gods and mortals alike spoke about in whispers, a warning tale to scare naughty children into obedience lest they find themselves where you were now.

The Minotaur.

Fear like you’d never known before – not when you’d first been thrown into the labyrinth or even when you were dragged before the Queen of Gods herself – overcame your senses as it consumed you. It eradicated your identity in an icy riptide of terror, dragging you under until only your fear floated and became your entire existence.

A horned silhouette stretched across the treetops in front of you, a shadow among shadows. Darker than the blackest hole and just as hungry to destroy anything that came close to it.

He was close…

You covered your mouth to silence the sob that sought to escape you, unable to blink as you witnessed the shadow of the bull-headed monster hunting you grow as he moved.

He turned his head, a wide muzzle exaggerated in his profile and distorted by the disorderly wall of trees that created a mismatched canvas for his shadow. You watched the silhouette lift his head towards the sky, intentional, measured… followed by another series of sniff sniff sniff.

You didn’t even realize the tears were falling before they pooled in the crevice where your hands were folded over your mouth, tracking down your cheeks in a constant stream as a bugle blared in your mind, resisting the existence of such a nightmarish creature even as you saw his shadow with your waking eyes.

Closer he walked, crunch crunch crunch, his shadow growing from the bovine head to the body of a man—strong, broad shoulders large enough to carry those horns and the defined curve of his muscles evident even through the flatness of his silhouette.

You were trapped.

Bark dug into your back as you pressed as far back into the roots as you could, silent and wishing you possessed the wood nymphs’ ability to sink into the trees themselves for protection. But your salvation was out of reach, far above the trees and cloud cover that the twinkling light of stars couldn’t pierce.

A bellow—bullish and remarkably, with tones of a human voice undercutting it, echoed throughout the forest. The wind carried it farther than it ought to have travelled, in service to him and reminding all who dwelled within this prison, just who the jailor was.

Did he know?

You tucked your knees and feet tighter against your body, eyeing the treacherous trail of stardust in front of you. He only needed to catch sight of the gleam and it would lead him directly to where you hid, cornered against the roots.

You could risk it and run. Either into the maze or up one of the trees, but you had little faith in your speed given your only experience with running was in pleasure. In coy chases through the trees that ended with you sprawled in some meadow with your hunter’s cock buried inside you, claiming the prize you presented.

That train of thought led you somewhere taboo in your mind, somewhere sinful… somewhere you shouldn’t linger as the image of a bovine beastman doing just that flashed across your mind.

You shied away from it, confused by the sudden rush of adrenaline that banished the cold on your skin. There was a harsh exhale above you, he smelled something.

Get a grip, you scolded yourself harshly. This wasn’t some flirty chase of your own design… where your pursuer even seeing you, let alone catching you was at your will. This was different.

Here, with him… you would be running for your life. And if he ran you down…

What prize did a Minotaur want? Was it the spilling of blood like legend would tell? Was it something more carnal… like all those of flesh and bone desired?

No.

The only other option you had was to remain still and pray he moved on, so you never had to find out. Every step closer he took to the precipice of the roots you were under, however, diminished that hope and when you could practically smell the musk on his skin and fur, hear his exhales, and see the billowing clouds of condensation from his breath, you tried to make peace with the fact that you’d been caught.

But it was not to be your end.

Another bellow proved to be your salvation as the noise broke the courage of the other poor souls hiding close by, those who had followed your stardust and who you initially thought long gone.

Your heart seized at the sound of them scrambling out of hiding and running, their ragged breaths overshadowed by a ferocious snarl as the Minotaur’s shadow whirled around. Instinct overtook him, or luck was on your side, his heavy footfalls charging – too fast – after their fleeing forms and away from you.

There was no relief though, not when the sudden scream some distance away warned of you meeting the same fate if you didn’t move now. The screams were cut off as suddenly as the drop at the hangman’s gallows, that same cruel wind carrying the wet gurgle of flooded windpipes to you.

It chased you as you pulled yourself out of your hiding spot, fleeing the carnage and praying you could put enough distance between you and the carnage. At least until the wind picked up again and dropped you somewhere else in this maze of madness.

For surely you were going mad… because no matter how fast and far you ran, there could be no other reason that anything other than fear or revulsion should fill you at the thought of that murderous brute.

You hoped you were going mad… to justify the inkling of attraction that continued to simmer low in your navel hours later.

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arimiadev · 7 months ago

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Developer Interview — Making A Date with Death

6 months ago, a brand new self-insert romance visual novel hit the market called A Date with Death, created by visual novel veterans Two and a Half Studios. Coming off of the success of The Divine Speaker, they dived into the chat sim space in visual novels with a huge splash. A Date with Death is currently sitting at over 5,000 positive reviews on Steam with a Kickstarter for an after story launching this week.

Read the interview on my blog or read it below.

Arimia: Hi Gabby, thanks for sitting down to talk about A Date with Death! Both of us have been into visual novels for quite a while, but what got you into them?

Gabby: I feel like my introduction to visual novels was probably similar to a lot of people my age…. and that was being on Tumblr too much and being introduced to Dramatical Murder much too young, and installing the fantranslation for myself and all of my friends, hahaha. From there I played the rest of the N+C games, and then moved to things like No Thank You! since it had a translation. After that I moved further to Japanese games that didn’t have a translation. These were 95% BL as well – I’ve played one or two otome games in my time but never really been super into them.

Actually, when I first got into development, I hadn’t played any Western visual novels yet. It was only after I started in game development that I tried more indie visual novels in general.

As for my favorite VNs, I have a few favorites! My first favorite and it’ll always have my heart is Lamento. It was kind of the culmination of a lot of different things I love in media, and I still love the game. There’s another untranslated game I really like called Pigeon Blood. I actually helped with some editing of translations for some of the routes a looong, long time ago. A more recent favorite, and probably my favorite overall, is MAMIYA! MAMIYA is a Japanese indie visual novel by KENKOULAND which I will happily shill over my own games (LOL) about a group of people at the ��end of the world”. The way the story is presented, I don’t think I’ve ever played anything like it, and I found it very inspiring. I was lucky enough to work with the creator Kokoroten on an animation for my own game Dreambound, which was fantastic.

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Arimia: Would you believe I’ve never played DMMD? Definitely cut from the same cloth though about being exposed from too much Tumblr time and hearing about all of these Japanese VNs that would never get localized over here, but now Fate/Stay Night is coming to Steam in a few months…. the visual novel landscape has changed so much.

You’ve worked on several boys love and girls love titles before A Date With Death that are more in the fantasy historical realm – how did you come up with the idea for ADWD?

Gabby: Well, we’d actually been wanting to try something more modern for awhile now, despite our love for fantasy settings, and we only happened across a screenshot from another developer’s chat sim and I kind of fell in love with the format. I’ve been really wanting to try my hand at something “cozy”, and though A Date with Death doesn’t really sound cozy on the box, we have a lot of features that I think set well with that crowd. I’m a very big fan of the informal aspect of the writing. I think even in my more serious games, I always lean into humor a little bit and I really enjoy writing banter, so the chat sim format was perfect for that.

(I styled my MC after my character Rose. he’d probably wind up in a shady chatroom like this)

Arimia: Having played some of A Date with Death, I can definitely see how it’s more “cozy” than some of your other games, and I think a lot of the player reactions I’ve seen have shown that too. The overall scope of the game is also on the smaller side, despite the player customization. How did you go about deciding the size of the game? Were there any parts/features you wanted to include but didn’t?

Gabby: Actually, the size is a lot BIGGER than we originally planned. Being our first free to play game, it’s always a little bit of a risk to put a lot of money into something when visual novel development is your livelihood, and obviously with a free game there’s no guarantee of a return. We originally planned for each “day” of the game to be only around 2000 words, for a grand total of 14,000 words for the game. Very short and sweet. Over the development we realized we had a lot more words than originally planned that we wanted to tell, and part of that is owing to just how many choices and options there are. There’s some conversations in the game which people are honestly surprised about because they’ve never managed to get them on any of their playthroughs. The game actually ended up being around 60,000 words, and this should be near doubled when Beyond the Bet releases.

We also included a lot of other things that weren’t originally planned when we concepted the game. We knew we wanted character creation and some degree of room decorating, but we also added a lot of small missable content – like interacting with your pet, watering your plant, reading books on your bookcase, minigames and websites on your computer, eavesdropping on your neighbor… the one thing we had originally planned but cut was voice acting. It’s something we really wanted to do, and we wrote Casper’s character with a very talented voice actor in mind, but it was a bit too much of a risk with the price of it and the unknown of releasing a free game but still making money on it. We don’t believe in having people work for us for free, even on free projects or jam games, so it wasn’t something we were prepared to have someone do for free even though I’m certain we could have.

Luckily, in the end we decided to hold a Kickstarter for the project, and that allows us the possibility of adding voice acting if it goes well!

Arimia: Yeah, it’s definitely a risk to spend so much time and effort on a free project, but I’m glad it worked out in the end. When announcing the game, what was your strategy? Did it differ any from how you announced and marketed your previous games?

Gabby: It was a little different! This is the first time we’ve had TikTok as one of our platforms when announcing a new project, and we knew we wanted to focus a lot of our attention there. Video content is very strong performing we’ve found, but it is definitely a skill in and of itself. We spent a lot of time honing down on our hook and how we could make people get it in a single line. On a platform like TikTok, you have a split second to catch someone’s attention.

We also had a much shorter amount of marketing time than our usual multi-year projects. We knew we wanted it out within a few months of announcing it, so we needed as much impact as possible in a short amount of time. We knew we wanted to get an animated opening since it can be a very powerful piece of marketing material, and I think that was a great idea and we’ll likely continue it going forward.

At the time of announcement, we had less than 10,000 followers on Twitter. Twitter is probably my favorite platform, but it was kind of falling off for us a little when we were ready to announce A Date with Death – but it just took off after we announced the game. We had a multi-month document with marketing beats and announcements we’d make over the few months we had, but with everything taking off much more than we expected we added to it a lot. I think you always have to be ready to adapt to change quickly in this field.

We actually never planned to market the game as “tease the babygirl”, but it’s something fans latched onto, and you can’t make that kind of marketing yourself, I think. We really leaned into our audience and what THEY thought of the game, and used that to our advantage in a way. I’m very thankful for whoever first asked if he was a babygirl.

Arimia: Twitter (was) probably my favorite platform too, mainly because it’s so easy to just make a quick post or update. TikTok has so much reach but it’s just so much easier to tweet a meme out somedays.

A little side question- with the name having the word “death” in it, were you worried about SEO / being censored on social media, or did it affect you? When I was creating Drops of Death years ago, I was worried social media platforms would suppress posts about it but ultimately went with it because it fit with the serial killer theme.

Gabby: Actually we weren’t too worried about that – we’ve definitely used words like death, kill, murderer, etc. in relation to our other games before and haven’t have much trouble. There ARE certain words especially on TikTok that it’s best to censor, but I haven’t had any problem using the name anywhere and we were prepared to risk it to use the name we wanted.

Arimia: It’s definitely a catchy name that summarizes the experience well. Back to the part where when people were first getting exposed to the concept and came up with Grim being a babygirl— how would you advise other devs to understand what keywords and pitches work better for their games?

Gabby: My first suggestion is to look at similar games to yours and the words they use. Look at the concept of your story and try to boil it down to a paragraph, then a sentence. Look at what makes your game unique, or how you can lean into what fans will get out of your work. Give your players elements that they can recognize instantly without a lengthy explanation.

“A romance chat sim where you flirt with and/or bully the Grim Reaper”

“Compete against the Grim Reaper to keep your soul… or die trying”

“Create your custom MC and flirt with the man trying to take your soul”

I use all of these in our marketing, because even though there’s a lot more to the game we’re not talking about, this is a hook that can capture someone’s attention straight away and then you can funnel them to your game.

Arimia: Getting hooks down can be such a difficult part but it’s so, so important. What do you think helped you most marketing-wise?

Gabby: It’s a tough question. We did a lot, and had huge amount of attention from all over the place and it just snowballed more, and more, and more. I think honestly what started the snowball was TikTok. Once we had one video go big, we were having multiple a week go 30k-400k views. We were getting 500-1300 wishlists per day for months. A lot of people joined our Discord from there and went to follow us on Twitter. TikTok is hard and the format is a lot to handle when you’re new to the platform, but it was absolutely worthwhile for us. Another thing I’ll quickly note – reuse your content. I just repost my TikToks to Insta Reels and they get a similar, if not more views, for no extra effort.

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A post shared by Two and a Half Studios (@twohalfstudios)

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Arimia: Yeah, it’s wild how quickly TikTok can blow up for someone. I’ve had posts get 100k+ views and then a few posts later they’ll struggle to hit 1k.

Side note: Gabby has written about her experiences with TikTok on her blog. You can also read about my discussions on TikTok marketing for visual novels here.

What do you think was the least effective thing you did for marketing?

Gabby: I suppose Steam events this time around kind of paled in comparison to our own marketing efforts. They’re always worth doing though – any Steam events you can get into, participate in them! You’ll always see some kind of return. But for us, an event giving 200-300 wishlists was just a drop in the water. Not at all not worth doing, but certainly it wasn’t a huge focus for us this time around.

[A]ny Steam events you can get into, participate in them!

Apart from that, I posted also to some other social media sites like bluesky, but I didn’t find it very worthwhile and stopped rather quickly. There’s only so much time in a day, and as the only person handling all of the marketing, it just wasn’t worth it.

Arimia: For newbie devs, what would you recommend they focus on? TikTok, Twitter, or something else?

Gabby: I think TikTok is the easiest platform to hit it big on “fast”. I say “fast” because it’s not guaranteed that you’re going to hit it big, it really depends how well you adapt to the platform, but your content there has a chance of being seen, even without any followers at all. That’s probably why I recommend it as a platform for new and old visual novel devs alike.

I think you’ll also find that once you pick up the format, it can be pretty fun to make. I think platforms like Twitter are easier to use, but getting started on them is hard. VNs are so visual heavy so we already have so much content that works well on TikTok. Of course, there could be problems in the future with using TikTok in the US, so we’ll see how that goes.

It’s best to focus on a few places though, and not to put all of your eggs in one basket. When you’re putting your audience in places that can go away, it’s always a risk, so it’s good to spread them between places like TikTok, Twitter, Tumblr, etc.

Arimia: Yeah, I think one thing devs forget is that these social media platforms are ran by big tech that don’t care about the little guys – if your account gets banned or falsely flagged, what are you going to do if you can’t get it back? Always best to have more than one site you’re posting on, but you don’t want to spread yourself too thin.

At what point in ADWD’s development cycle did you start marketing it? It was a pretty short development cycle to begin with.

Gabby: We started working on the concept of A Date with Death January of last year, and announced it on the 5th of July. This wasn’t really 6-7 months of dev time though – we were working on two of our other games at the time. By that point, we’d finished maybe half of the game and announced the game in time for the Steam Visual Novel Fest a month later.

This was actually pretty successful for us, and gave us a decent boost to start from. We then released the demo at the end of September in time for Steam Next Fest, which was a bit more meh for us despite going in with a high wishlist velocity. We then released the game at the start of December. But, like I said, we were working full time on Dreambound and The Divine Speaker: The Sun and the Moon, so I think we could have made it in much less time if we didn’t have other games on our plate.

My suggestion is to announce the game and start marketing early, but not so early you run out of content you can post. My strat is usually announce the game at the same time the Steam page is ready, so you can use the announcement to drive people straight to it. A trailer can be another marketing beat, and then lead up to the demo release. Going in with a solid marketing plan is a great idea, too.

Side note: despite the short amount of time to market the game, they were able to enter it into at least 2 different Steam-ran festivals! That’s a great boost to wishlists and they usually don’t require much work from yourself.

[A]nnounce the game and start marketing early, but not so early you run out of content you can post.

Arimia: Once you’ve worked on a few games it’s a lot easier to gauge when that sweet spot is, but when you haven’t it’s definitely hard to figure out. I usually go with how much progress I have towards something playable like a demo. When ADWD was ready to release, how did you reach out to press?

Gabby: Actually, I didn’t sent out any press releases for the full game! I can’t tell you exactly if this was a good thing or not – but the way I’ve done it for all of my other games is that I send out a press release and streamer keys for the demo only. Especially for A Date with Death, we already had a lot of press and streamer interest naturally, so we decided to use our time for other forms of marketing and polishing up the game instead.

For the demo though, we curated a list of ~70 people to send out early keys to. I think this is quite worthwhile in hyping up the demo release, and it’s quite easy these days with tools like sullygnome.

Arimia: What lessons learnt from your previous games did you bring with you when making ADWD?

Gabby: We’ve been very lucky to work with our amazing artist Fuyuure for over six years now, so we came in with a great team who worked incredibly well together. I think that was a big bonus – working on something like a big character creator can be a difficult task for many artists, because of the sheer amount of assets you need. So, I would say coming in with a talented team who were ready for their tasks was a massive boon.

I think working on so many games beforehand prepared us to make the game in the time we did. We usually work on bigger, multi-year projects, and this was our first proper commercial endeavor into a smaller game. Our experience helped us to pinpoint exactly what we would need, which is a lot less than our other projects. The game actually only has 5 CGs, which is less than usual for us, but I think we managed to do it in a way where it doesn’t feel lacking, either. Getting scope right is a difficult thing and it’s easy to want to include anything and everything, but we were very particular about what we wanted and how long it would take.

Arimia: I can definitely see how that helped – working with people you’re already comfortable with can alleviate a lot of stress. For the A Date with Death: Beyond the Bet Kickstarter, how did you prepare the marketing campaign for it? How long did that pre-planning take you?

Gabby: We really started planning the new DLC the day A Date with Death launched last December. We knew we wanted to make more content, and with Dreambound nearly complete it was a good time to start thinking of running a new campaign. I would say the preplanning took a couple of months – working on a good date, working with lots of artists on new merch, setting up the page, getting the page to our graphic designer to make some images up for it… running a Kickstarter is definitely a lot of work! Even organizing the tiers takes some time.

We prepared mostly by getting the prelaunch page up as early as possible and getting the word out on all of our socials – Twitter, Tumblr, TikTok, Reels, Steam itself, Discord, our email list, itch…. basically, did a big blast out everywhere and we had a huge amount of people come and prelaunch straight away. We also really enjoy doing countdown images the week before launching – it lets us work with a bunch of amazing artists, and we use the art for rewards during the campaign too (as prints). Being our third campaign, we came into it knowing what we had to do, which is a big timesaver. For new developers, I’ll say don’t sleep on the prelaunch time – it’s not a good idea to put up a Kickstarter and instantly launch it. You need to bring an audience with you and get as many pledges lined up on that first day as possible.

Honestly, the support so far has blown our mind. With a similar amount of prep, Dreambound launched with less than 300 followers on the page, but as of writing this we’re already over 4500 on A Date with Death.

[I]t’s not a good idea to put up a Kickstarter and instantly launch it. You need to bring an audience with you and get as many pledges lined up on that first day as possible.

Arimia: Even though I’ve helped run and advised several Kickstarters before, there’s always something I forget or push off until the last minute. Was there anything you learned from the Dreambound KS that you used/did differently for the ADWD KS?

Gabby: Oh, for sure. I learned a lot about my tiers and page organization from our past Kickstarters. We actually have a lot more tiers than usual on this Kickstarter and I don’t think we’d be able to manage that without our past experiences.

If I had to pick one thing from the Dreambound Kickstarter that I’ve changed for A Date with Death’s, we decided to have all of our stretch goals viewable from the get-go. I enjoyed the “unlocking” of stretch goals we had before, but with the amount of attention I think we’ll get, it’s just easier to lay everything out for everyone.

Arimia: Yeah, I imagine you’ll probably be hitting stretch goals pretty early on with how many people are excited for the KS. Aside from social media like TikTok and Twitter, how do you keep your audience interested?

Gabby: I think one of the things that mobile games have as an advantage is continuously adding more content and patches. That really keeps people interested and coming back to your game and characters. Obviously we don’t really have a big enough team or enough time to be adding more and more content, so keeping people interested can be quite tough. We were very conscious of this when deciding WHEN to hold a Kickstarter in the first place – if we wait too long, people will move on. It’s already been 6 months since the game released, after all.

There’s multiple ways we’ve kept people interested during these months. One is that we funneled a lot of people to our Patreon, where we have exclusive art every month from the game, as well as behind the scenes stuff about the new DLC. We then can tease these on social media too, and drip feeding content works pretty well to keep people interested.

Another is we now have near 8000 members in our Discord, and these people become some of your core audience. We encourage interaction with each other and the game by weekly game questions that players can answer. If you had enough time to organize it, I honestly think even doing daily questions would be a really great idea. Anything to kind of keep people chatting and thinking about the game.

Arimia: To wrap this up – what advice would you give to other visual novel devs?

Gabby: There’s so much I’d like to say, but I’ll just give a few pieces of advice that I think could help newer developers. Don’t think of marketing as a bad thing, or an annoying thing. I see a lot of new developers come in and say “I won’t market. I feel like a shill and my game will speak for itself”. I think this is a huge mistake, because people won’t play your game if they don’t know it exists. Marketing can be fun! Share your little stories with the world proudly, don’t feel bad about that.

If you want to do game dev as just a hobby, then that’s absolutely fine – but it’s totally possible to do this as a profession, too. My partner and I have been working on visual novels full time for over two years now. A lot of people tend to think that’s there’s no money in visual novels, but I would say that’s not true at all. It’s hard work – like all small businesses are – and not every game is going to be wildly profitable, but it’s totally possible with a good game and good marketing. Keep making the games you love, doing market research to see what other people love, and you might be able to find a good crossover.

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And there you have it, some insight into the development and creation of A Date with Death! If you haven’t already, check the game out – the base game is completely free to play on Steam and itch.io. You can check out their social media here:

Twitter – TikTok – Tumblr

Support their Kickstarter!

#visual novel #visual novels #a date with death #two and a half studios #visual novel game #my articles #interview #Youtube #Instagram

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