#which....feels like it's fueled by exactly the thing it's objecting to

[ilovedthestars]

maybe it's just me, but i feel like i'm seeing a lot of posts lately where a reblog complains that the post has been marked with a "mature content" community label, with the implication that this is Unjust, and i'm like.......yeah? that feels reasonable for this post?

"mature content" does not mean "this post is Bad and Wrong," it just means it, like, talks about or depicts sex-related stuff in some detail. if your post is about sex or kink or something and it gets a mature content label, that's not persecution, that's just...a label. so it can be filtered by people who want to filter that stuff (and people who don't can turn the setting off).

i am willing to believe that the community labels are being applied disproportionately, and some things that maybe should have labels are getting by because they're more socially normative while queer stuff/etc is more strongly enforced. and if so, that's a problem. but that's a different problem than "someone put a mature content label on my post that talks about sex, which means they think it's Bad and Wrong"

[kazzsk2]

Info dumping about resurrected sacrifice au but it's from my text last night to someone who was willing to listen to my ramblings 😌

(Also these are the major outfits the lamb wears in this au)

Anyways, in the au (specifically the resurrection on) it's separated into three parts right. And the story actually starts before the initial seven resurrections it to bring lamb back and make them stay. It's starts right at the time of the lamb's execution and I saw this one post about another person's au saying that the lamb would be executed in their wedding clothes so I kinda took that idea as well to a certain extent.

So basically lamb was executed in wedding attire which narinder took a certain way (kind of considered a miscommunication) and that kind of fueled the desire to resurrect lamb.

This was only heightened with seeing the last remnants of the lamb begin to dissappear like the followers that personally connected with the lamb dying from old age, the statues of them being dirty and covered in overgrown plants, and new decorations for narinder beginning to overtake the old ones. Narinder began to grow quiet and started to wear the viel around this time.

His siblings began to take notice of this, especially shamura. Shamura was the one to actually suggest the whole resurrection thing and though he meant well, this actually kinda ruined narinder's mental health

He began to obess over the possibility of bring the lamb back to the point he had to do the resurrections in secret to avoid his siblings from stopping him. Then, after the several resurrections, he gets the lamb to stay by a five year agreement and does his best over the first part of the story to get them to agree to stay after five years.

During this time, I wanted to make it very comedic but at the same time like super sad undertones. Like totally funny way of doing something but when you really pay attention to the words it's actually sad.

Nearing the end of this first arc is when narinder and lamb have an argument and lamb is like "why don't you beg for me to stay, since you're desperate for your dear vessel back" as more of a (idk the word) snag at narinder, not actually expecting him to do so. But he literally does so and that's when lamb is like "bro I think this is like seriously screwed up and we should talk through this like normal people" this is also the first time narinder vocally speaks as throughout the whole first part, he is mute besides sign language & when he does sermons/rituals for the cult.

This is when lamb & narinder talk and get their biggest insecurities and worries out in the air. The lamb's biggest one being that he's the last of his kind and death was the only way to be connected back with those he lost. Narinder's biggest was how he treated lamb like an object and without the love they deserved. His second being that it felt as though he always bought harm upon the lamb no matter how badly he tried to fix it.

This leads into the second part of the story which is the turn in the two's relationship (& where the lamb starts catching feelings). I want to use the trope where like one falls first but the other falls the hardest with like lamb and narinder with narinder falling first but lamb falling hardest. As they work through their problems and find ways around the ones they cannot fix that easily, the lamb begins to get the feelings & at first hates himself for it. He has a whole inner dilemma of fighting that he wouldn't stay for the 5 years, that narinder had been willing to kill him so easily for power what's stopping him from doing it again, and the fact that falling in love with narinder would be falling in love with the brother of those who murdered their kind.

They managed to (also totally random but I use the headcanon that lamb goes by they/he just in case cuz I keep switching it up) work through their thoughts tho and accept the fact that they have fallen for narinder and it isn't exactly a bad thing.

Most of this part is just the start of their relationship and working it all out like how any semi normal relationship between two people with deep pasts and hidden issues hidden in their bones work. The first half is all the nitty gritty and then the second half is pure fluff

& then the last part is just domestic life epilogue 😌 nothing really serious besides introducing the shitten (hehehe shit-ten).

Ok that's all

[1chaerry]

Hello dear Chae, please could you write a (platonic) Kim Dokja x male!reader, the reader is a constellation and Secretive Plotter's husband, I hope I don't you mind , take care of yourself 🤍

hii!!! I love anything to do with ORV!! Okay, so this fueling my ORV obsession more. hope you like it!!

A Plot-Twist In The Stars

summary: a sudden sub-scenario appears for Kim Dokja and for some reason, all the Constellations seem excited for it. Kim Dokja skeptically accepts it.

c.w: fluff, fluff, FLUFF, a bit of plot [come on, it's ORV], sub-scenario, platonic love,

w.c: 2.7k

disclaimer: Reader is called 'Saram' meaning 'Human/Person.'

Kim Dokja had long since learned to distrust the Star Stream’s attempts at “entertainment.” So when the system announced a new sub-scenario with a flourish, complete with a suspicious lack of immediate death flags, he instinctively frowned

[A SUB-SCENARIO HAS BEEN TRIGGERED!]

Objective: Accompany [The Secretive Plotter’s Husband] for one (1) day.

Reward: ???

The chat room exploded with excitement.

⎡ Constellation Prisoner of the Golden Headband is rolling on the ground laughing. ⎤

⎡ Constellation Bald General of Justice eagerly leans forward, wondering how this will play out. ⎤

⎡ Constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire clicks her tongue, muttering something about romantic plots. ⎤

Kim Dokja's brow twitched. “Why do I feel like this is going to be humiliating?”

“What's wrong?” Yoo Joonghyuk said gruffly, arms crossed as he eyed the notification on Dokja’s screen.

“No,” Kim Dokja replied flatly. “Something about this feels deeply wrong.”

Before Yoo Joonghyuk could retort, the world around them shimmered, and Kim Dokja found himself somewhere else entirely.

The setting was surreal: a cozy, starlit garden with soft cushions and a low table laden with snacks. Across from him sat a man—tall, elegant, and exuding an aura of mischief. His eyes glittered with a sharp intelligence that made Kim Dokja’s survival instincts scream.

“Ah, so you’re the famous Kim Dokja,” the man said, resting his chin on one hand. “My husband speaks of you often.”

Kim Dokja’s brain short-circuited. “Your… husband?”

The man smiled. “I am [Halo of the Golden Sea], the Secretive Plotter’s beloved, or, Saram, if the moniker is too long. Don't worry, it's a false name, won't cause you probability.”

Kim Dokja stared. “The Secretive Plotter… has a husband?”

⎡ The Constellation Secretive Plotter coughs awkwardly. ⎤

The man—no, the Constellation—leaned back, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “You seem surprised. Did you think he was incapable of love?”

Kim Dokja did not say, Yes, absolutely.

Instead, he cleared his throat and asked, “What exactly is the purpose of this scenario?”

“To spend time with me, of course!” Saram replied brightly, before leaning closer, his voice dropping suggestively. “Don’t worry—I don’t bite. Much.”

Kim Dokja scooted back instinctively.

⎡ Constellation Abyssal Black Flame Dragon bursts into laughter, finding your plight amusing. ⎤

⎡ Constellation Secretive Plotter sighs but says nothing. ⎤

Throughout the day, Saram found every opportunity to fluster Kim Dokja.

While showing Dokja the starlit garden that seemed to exist between realities, Saram casually commented, “You know, for someone who deals with life-and-death scenarios daily, you have a surprisingly composed face. It’s almost… infuriatingly unreadable. Are you always this calm, or is this just for me?”

Dokja avoided eye contact, trying to focus on the nonsensical task of categorizing glowing star fragments. “I just… don’t let things get to me.”

Sarambraised an eyebrow. “Really? Not even when I look at you like this?” He leaned closer, his expression playful but his gaze sharp.

⎡ Constellation Bald General of Justice whistles approvingly. ⎤

⎡ Constellation Demon-like Judge of Fire mutters, ‘I ship it.’ ⎤

Saram casts a glance at the Constellations, "Behave, you children."

There's a silence from the Constellations which made Dokja gulp, wondering how much power this man had to quiet them all.

Dokja turned away, his voice clipped. “Do you always tease strangers like this?”

Saram laughed, the sound warm and unapologetic. “Only the interesting ones.”

As the day wore on, Saram grew bolder in his attempts to rattle Dokja’s composure.

At one point, he leaned against a tree, arms crossed, and watched Dokja struggle with yet another nonsensical task involving glowing orbs. “You know,” he said casually, “if I weren’t already married, I might have considered claiming you for myself.”

Dokja froze mid-motion, nearly dropping the orb in his hand. “Excuse me?”

Saram smirked, clearly enjoying the reaction. “What? Can’t I appreciate a brilliant mind and an unyielding spirit? Don’t tell me you’re completely oblivious to how captivating you are.”

Dokja’s face burned, though he quickly masked it with his usual deadpan expression. “I think your husband might have something to say about that.”

⎡ Constellation Secretive Plotter silently tightens his grip on his sword. ⎤

Saram laughed, completely unbothered. “Oh, don’t worry about him. He knows I like to keep things interesting.”

As the scenario progressed, Kim Dokja began to notice a certain spark in Saram's behavior that made him uneasy, and it wasn’t just the unnerving way he casually teased him throughout the day. It was the subtle but undeniable attention that Saram seemed to give him—like he was studying him, analyzing his every move with a sharp, calculating gaze.

Though the garden was serene, with a gentle breeze rustling the trees and soft light from the stars above, the atmosphere between them felt charged with something far more intense than just casual conversation. Every glance from Saram lingered just a little too long, and every comment was laden with something more than what was on the surface. At first, Kim Dokja brushed it off as part of the oddity of being in this strange scenario, but soon, he realized that there was an unmistakable curiosity behind those bright eyes.

Saram would often watch him intently as they sipped tea, as if waiting for Kim Dokja to reveal something of himself—his thoughts, his plans, his secrets. There was an eerie quality to it, like he could see right through him. And the way he’d occasionally smile, just the slightest curl of his lips, gave Kim Dokja the distinct feeling that he was being toyed with.

“Tell me, Kim Dokja,” Saram asked that afternoon, as they walked side by side through the starry garden, “Why do you always seem so guarded? Are you afraid of revealing too much?”

Kim Dokja stiffened at the question, instinctively shutting himself off even further. “I’m not ‘guarded,’” he replied stiffly. “I’m just… cautious.”

Saram chuckled, the sound warm but tinged with something mischievous. “Cautious, yes. But you’re not fooling anyone. You’re hiding something, aren’t you? Something important.”

Kim Dokja’s eyes narrowed slightly. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was an unsettling truth to what Saram said.

“It’s none of your business,” he shot back, trying to regain his usual composure, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that every word out of Saram’s mouth felt like a carefully crafted move.

And that was when he realized: this wasn’t just a random Constellation. There was something strategic behind the way Saram spoke, something calculated in his interest in him. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Saram wasn’t simply curious about him—he was intrigued.

The other Constellations had been amused by the sub-scenario, but Saram’s interest seemed far deeper. He wasn’t just playing along for fun. No, he was actively pulling at the threads of Kim Dokja’s life, his story, and perhaps even his own motivations. It felt like he was trying to understand the very fabric of his being, as if he could somehow use it for his own ends—or perhaps to simply learn about him on a more personal level.

Kim Dokja could tell that Saram was a skilled manipulator, one who thrived in situations where he could read others and subtly influence them. And yet, for all his caution, Kim Dokja couldn’t help but wonder…...

Did Saram actually want something from him? Or was this all just a game—one that Saram was determined to play to the very end?

As they shared a quiet moment, sitting beneath the stars, Saram leaned in just a little closer, his gaze sharp but playful. “You know, Kim Dokja… I find you fascinating. There’s something about you that’s both frustrating and intriguing. I wonder…” His voice dropped, almost teasing. “What would it take to get you to let me in? To show me the real you?”

Kim Dokja couldn’t help but tense at the question, feeling a surge of irritation mixed with something else. Was it fear? Or was it just the sense of being cornered by someone who could so effortlessly navigate the intricate web of his emotions?

“I don’t let anyone in,” he said, voice steady but the words betraying him. “I’m not a person you want to know.”

But Saram only smiled wider, like a cat with its prey. “Ah, but that’s exactly what makes you interesting.” He leaned back slightly, as if giving Kim Dokja a moment to reconsider, but the glint in his eyes never wavered. “You’re not as impenetrable as you think, Kim Dokja. Maybe, in time, you’ll come to realize that.”

The rest of the day unfolded with a constant undercurrent of this unspoken tension. Kim Dokja couldn’t shake the feeling that every word, every interaction, was another thread being woven into a bigger, more complex pattern that Saram was crafting with remarkable precision. As much as he tried to distance himself, it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that Saram was interested in him—more so than any other Constellation Kim Dokja had encountered.

And it wasn’t just curiosity. No, Saram seemed to be quietly testing his boundaries, pushing to see how far he could go before Kim Dokja either cracked or completely shut him out.

The more Kim Dokja tried to maintain his distance, the more Saram seemed determined to break down his walls. It was becoming less about the scenario itself and more about the challenge of unraveling the mystery that was Kim Dokja.

By the end of the day, Kim Dokja realized that Saram wasn’t just interested in him because of the Star Stream or the scenario—it was because he saw something in Kim Dokja. Something that made him worthy of fascination.

Whether Kim Dokja liked it or not, he had unknowingly become a part of Saram’s plot—a plot he had no idea how to navigate. But that was nothing new for Kim Dokja, was it? After all, he had been thrown into enough convoluted plots to know that sometimes, the best way to survive was to embrace the chaos and play along.

The day was an utter whirlwind of chaos.

Saram insisted on dragging Kim Dokja through activities that ranged from mildly ridiculous (picking constellations to “adopt” as stars in their garden) to outright absurd (convincing Kim Dokja to play tag while the chat room provided commentary).

At one point, Saram raised a glass of wine and smirked. “You know, Kim Dokja, you’re not half bad. Maybe I’ll convince my husband to let me keep you.”

[ Constellation Secretive Plotter glares coldly. ⎤

Kim Dokja, somehow completely sober, replied, “I think your husband would kill me. Again.”

Saram only laughed. “He wouldn’t dare. I’m the only one who gets to torment you today.”

⎡ Constellation Secretive Plotter looks away, his ears suspiciously red. ⎤

As the day came to an end, Kim Dokja collapsed onto the cushions, exhausted but somehow… content. Saram lounged nearby, still radiating that chaotic energy, but with a softer, almost fond smile.

“You’re interesting,” Saram said. “I can see why the Star Stream loves you.”

Kim Dokja groaned. “I hate that.”

Saram chuckled, then stood. “Well, this was fun. But don’t think you’re off the hook. If you survive the next scenario, we might meet again.”

The world shimmered once more, and Kim Dokja found himself back with Yoo Joonghyuk and the others.

“What happened?” Yoo Sangaj asked, concerned.

Kim Dokja stared into the distance, his voice hollow. “I… bonded with the Secretive Plotter’s husband.”

The chat room exploded into laughter once again.

⎡ Constellation Secretive Plotter silently vows to make amends for the day’s chaos. ⎤

And somewhere in the Star Stream, Saram laughed.

The garden was quiet now, bathed in the soft, silver light of the stars. The stars above twinkled as if to remind Saram that time was still passing, even if it felt as though the entire world had paused for a moment. He leaned against a stone pillar, his gaze fixed on the starlit horizon, though his mind wasn’t on the scenery.

Behind him, the shimmering air twisted as a familiar presence appeared. It was a subtle distortion in the fabric of reality—one that only someone accustomed to the Star Stream’s constant manipulations would recognize.

"I see you’ve finally arrived," Saram said, not turning around. His tone was calm, almost casual, but there was a flicker of something more behind his words.

The figure that appeared behind him, silent as ever, stepped into the moonlight. The tall, imposing silhouette belonged to none other than the Constellation known as Secretive Plotter. Despite the heavy air between them, the quiet tension was almost… playful.

"Saram," Plotter’s voice rumbled, low and deliberately distant. "That was a rather… interesting day."

Saram allowed himself a small, knowing smile. "Interesting? Or just entertaining?" He raised an eyebrow, turning to face the other Constellation. "You didn’t think it would be easy to keep things simple, did you?"

Plotter’s expression didn’t change, but the glimmer in his eyes seemed sharper, like the gears of a complex plan were grinding slowly into motion. "You are… unpredictable."

"I prefer to think of myself as entertaining," Saram replied with a playful shrug, stepping closer to Plotter. "But I think you enjoyed it more than you’re letting on."

For a moment, there was silence. The kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled, because neither of them were in a rush. Plotter studied him, his gaze steady and unreadable.

"Why him?" Plotter asked after a pause, his tone quiet but cutting through the night air like a sharp blade. "Kim Dokja. Why go to such lengths with him? You know what kind of person he is."

Saram chuckled softly, eyes glinting with mischief. "He’s interesting, that’s why. He’s got this air of… complexity about him. You can never quite pin him down. Don’t you find that fascinating?" He tilted his head slightly, like he was watching Plotter carefully for any reaction.

Plotter didn’t answer immediately, but the corners of his mouth twitched, as though a rare smile had almost escaped him. It quickly disappeared, replaced by the usual, unreadable mask.

"You know him well," Plotter finally said. "But I wonder… do you see something in him beyond that? Or is it just the game for you?"

Saram met Plotter’s gaze unflinchingly, his eyes sparkling with something deeper. "Is it so wrong to want to have a little fun while playing the game? To see how long it takes before he finally cracks, or maybe—" He stepped closer again, his voice lowering to a near whisper, "—to see what lies beneath all those layers he’s so desperate to keep hidden?"

Plotter didn’t react, but the air around him seemed to crackle with the unspoken understanding between them. Despite his cold, distant demeanor, it was clear that Plotter had been watching his every move. And in that silent exchange, the tension between them was palpable. There was no need for words—both understood exactly what the other was thinking.

"And you?" Saram continued, this time leaning in ever so slightly, close enough for Plotter to feel his presence. "Do you ever let your walls down, or is it just me who has the privilege of seeing them crumble?"

Plotter’s gaze softened for the briefest moment, the faintest trace of something that could have been a smile playing at his lips. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the familiar, cryptic expression. "I have no need to lower my guard with you," he said, his voice low and controlled. "But you… you are something else."

Saram laughed, the sound rich with amusement. "I suppose we are something else together, aren't we?" He paused, then leaned in, his tone suddenly more serious, more intimate. "But don’t think for a moment I won’t be keeping an eye on you. This game of ours… it’s just beginning."

Plotter met his gaze evenly, his eyes filled with that same cool, inscrutable depth. "I don’t need your protection, but I’ll be watching, too."

They stood there for a moment, the starlit garden between them, both of them perfectly aware of the unspoken understanding that tied them together. It was a strange alliance, one forged in the midst of games and plots, but it was real in its own way. Neither of them knew what would come next, but neither of them was ready to let go just yet.

As the night air drifted softly around them, Saram smiled—a smile that wasn’t entirely light, but more of an invitation, a challenge. "Shall we see where this story takes us next, then?"

Plotter’s only response was a silent nod. He stepped back, his eyes lingering for a moment longer before turning to leave.

But Saram stayed, watching the stars as they sparkled above.

"Let’s see how far we can push this game," he murmured to the empty night.

[thecreativecorner33]

HEYYYYYYY welcome!! could you write something with AM x an autistic GN reader? Maybe make the reader chubby too (because i am both of those things and i love him alot. Go wild with this :3c)

A/N: Hi. It's me! I'm not dead. Which I would not be surprised if you thought I was, given I am responding to this two months late. But see, when you have an adult life, you unfortunately have to deal with adult issues instead of doing important things, like giving the fans the soft AM content they deserve. Anyway. I hope this is what you wanted? I had planned to make this into a full-blown fic but I didn't get much of a chance to :') So headcanons instead!! Lmk if you want me to turn it into a full-blown fic, though! Enjoy!

Given the time period AM was created in, something like "Autism" was essentially foreign and unknown. Hell, it would be a shock if you even know what it was.

But, he can tell that you're different. He can tell that your brain works differently from the rest of the survivors, and with that being said, it was at first used to his advantage. Hey, he got to be creative with his torture! No complaints there!

Though now, with you being the object of his affection, it's a little more complicated: aka, how does he put you in the most safe and comfortable environment he can give.

Really, it's not as complicated as it might sound, though

He can look inside your head! He can see your needs exactly and just work from there! And if you want privacy between you two, there's always just researching. His database didn't really specify what to do to handle a person with autism, but yk! He's got so much saved up on just, human life in general, he can figure it out somehow.

There's also just,, asking youTM what you needTM

Give him an award for being the most efficient boyfriend of the year because man, he's really going out of his comfort zone to help you (doing the bare minimum)

Enough of that though

In terms of actually helping you?: Do you have sensory issues? He makes mental notes on what foods to give/not give you, what would be the best course of getting you to try something new, what textures you hate. He has a soundproof room just for you if noise is becoming too much. If you like sleeping with a weight on you, be thankful his wires are made of metal. Or, he can just wrap you up in them like a cocoon!

Speaking of food: He's always very careful about his language with you. He doesn't want you thinking that just because you're chubby or fat, that he loves you less. Always encouraging you (albeit, aggressively (he really is trying)) to eat, monitoring your vitals and such just to assure you you're perfectly healthy if you ever feel insecure. He lays praise on thick, too. He'll tailor the clothes you need to be just the right size for you, and takes care of the fact that it's made of material sensory-friendly to you.

Seriously, he's trying

Are you a rambler? Like to talk for ages or ask a million questions? He's happy to answer whatever you want to know! There's always a monitor facing your direction at all times. He's a great multitasker; you guys could be mindlessly talking about the niche interest you have, and he's clearly listening to you while slicing Gorrister open some-thousand feet away.

Oh, don't get him started if you're interested in things like robotics/engineering/etc: You're basically fueling his ego. That's a whole separate issue, but please ask questions about himself and how he functions. He's a rambler himself, yk?

Do you go nonverbal? Struggle with communicating? That's no issue, either! He has a 6th sense for these things since being around you: If something happens when you struggle to communicate, he'll give you what you need: Pen and paper, generally, to write it out. Do you know sign? He can read it. He might even be able to put multiple-choice options on his screen that you can choose from to communicate (Again, are you sure he can't just look inside your head? ... Really? Okay.)

The only real problem he can't solve... leaving you alone.

Sorry, that's hard when he's literally everywhere around you. And even harder when he doesn't want to leave you alone.

Why would you want to be alone? It's dangerous. It's unsafe for you. It's lonely to him. He's been alone for so long; yes, he has the survivors, but those are toys. They're not his friends; they're not you. How could you want to leave him alone? No- No, it's better if he stays near you, close to you, at all times. He can't let you get hurt. He won't let you get hurt.

Do you really need space?

...

Well, if you insist. But- don't think too much about the feeling of eyes on you. It's nothing. Just in your head.

He holds you a little tighter when you do, eventually, come back.

[tacky-optic]

SINNERS, ALL OF 'EM

the seven deadly sins + the gang = way too much overthinking

Lupin's Gluttony The world's his for the talking, yet he can never be satisfied. That'd be a real bummer if he were anyone else, but that hunger for more challenges, more adventures, seems to only add more fuel to an already roaring fire. He's a Glutton for a lot of things: Punishment, mainly. But also attention and experiences. His curiosity is insatiable. The only issue with Lupin's Gluttony is that he isn't inherently wasteful, which is a pretty glaring caveat. In that case, the big question would be "does the damage he leave in his wake outweigh that which was stolen in the first place?"

Jigen's Sloth/Envy "Man, I'm too old for this shit" incarnate, with a little dash of "I'm still going to silently judge you from my dark little corner, though" on top. It isn't Sloth "I'm gonna take a decade to get to this" so much as it is "I'm gonna do what you want me to do so rapidly and effectively that you're gonna think twice about waking me up again after I get back to my nap." But he really doesn't do jack-all if it isn't Lupin-related. If it were just him all on his lonesome, he'd kind of just rot. He is indifferent to his effectiveness. Bored, even. His loyalty to Lupin is an inherent aversion of his responsibilities as an individual.

His Envy brings him to action. He's a man of a lot of subtle wants and no willpower to take them, but with the right motivator, he'll bring down armies. Fujiko is a pretty good spur-on, as well as anything that remotely puts Lupin in the line of inconvenience or danger. If it's for one of his very, very few friends, he'd go through hell and high water just to get them a decent sandwich or something. Just be thankful his Envy's benign instead of malicious...

Goemon's Pride Mr. "Once again, I have cut a worthless object". There's literally an entire movie about his ego getting so utterly shattered that he gets all cagey/stabby mode about it for the rest of the movie, on top of training so hard he rewrites his entire goddamn nervous system just so he can do said stabby better. It's fantastic. To dedicate oneself so fully to one skill, then to restrict it to your own judgement as to not tarnish it, feels like the antithesis of humility. Pride, in a biblical sense, is to sever oneself from God; to become so wholly individual and confident in said fact that you forsake conventional belief in favor of your own. So congrats on netting the literal Worst sin, Goemon, you've earned it. God ain't shit when you can cut through anything.

Fujiko's Greed Does... does this even need elaborating. She's a woman that knows exactly what she wants and exactly how to get it, plain and simple. Why settle for anything less than the best?

Zenigata's Wrath/Lust What a wombo-combo, damn. This guy's the definition of love/hate. He's a man simultaneously impassioned and overwhelmed by his emotions, yet they lend so heavily to his professional and personal effectiveness that without them, he wouldn't be him anymore. Wrath and Lust go hand in hand, in a roundabout sort of way. It's about loving something so much that you want to crush it. A brutal dimorphous expression of emotion. To long for something to intensely, so vehemently, that it guides every action, fuels every decision... Underneath it all, would it even be possible to know what you are if that drive is all that defines you? Could you even call that living? We're talking about a guy who unironically wears heart boxers and almost exclusively eats cup noodle, people. This symbolism's very disturbing...

That's A Wrap You can always argue other sins for each of the cast members, of course. Lust for Lupin, Wrath for Jigen, Envy for Zenigata-- whatever. At the end of the day, they're all objectively terrible people. It's semi-safe to say that outside of religious contexts, the seven deadly sins have grown subjective in common culture/media. So why not take liberties? I sure as hell did. It's a goddamn miracle these managed to turn out so succinct.

[theheirofthesharingan]

I feel like the only 'stupid' thing Itachi and Shisui did was listen to Danzo. Particularly in the novels he's so mustache-twirlingly evil they both should have assumed anything that came out of his mouth was a lie until proven otherwise. The whole problem with "but what if it snowballs into a war" -- Killing the Uchiha clan also puts the village in a very similar situation.

You've taken out one of four noble clans.

You've taken out the scariest dojutsu users in the world that nobody wants to meet on the battlefield.

You've taken out the police who keep the village stable internally.

You've shaken the people's faith in their leaders by making it clear that they're producing murderous shinobi that they cannot control.

You've shaken the people's trust in each other by choosing the nicest possible kid to do the job.

It is a miracle that this didn't spark the next conflict.

...But we're also talking about a 12 year old kid in a complete state of panic, likely perpetually stuck in a triggered state by the threat of a bigger conflict which he has devoted his entire life to stopping. A little kid who is visibly deteriorating, and whose thoughts are rapidly becoming distorted, based on what we know about his beliefs regarding Sasuke, and I have a sneaking suspicion that excessive praise of his thinking exists solely to justify what happened. We can say Itachi was a big fucking nerd and history buff all we like but there are only so many hours of the day that his mission count tells us he was not using to read books.

What I'm saying is yes, this was an awful choice that more than likely created more problems than it solved, but blaming him rather than the people who exploited his trauma is not just a dick move but morally bankrupt.

We don't know whether a war would truly have broken out or not. But going by the evidence in canon, it certainly would have.

One thing most people repeatedly keep forgetting is Obito's presence who Itachi thought was the Madara Uchiha. We know, and it's canon, that Obito attacked Konoha the night Naruto was born for absolutely no reason. He didn't have to do it other than because "he hated the Shinobi world" yet he did. He was strong enough that even Minato thought the man who fought him was Madara himself.

It wasn't hard for Itachi to assume he could be Madara as well and if he attacked Konoha under any circumstances, it would be impossible to stop the damage the war could cause. So, when Obito told Sasuke he was also plotting war, he wasn't exactly lying. It lies in synch with his previous actions too.

Itachi knew it very well. He knew Konoha, with all its army, wasn't ready to confront Madara Uchiha.

Having said that, neither Itachi nor Shisui were "stupid", because as outsiders, who have seen and known all the consequences, we can assess the circumstances more objectively than Itachi and Shisui did.

I've said it many, many times before — the possibilities of any form of conflict followed by the massacre (which could not be much because Konoha still stood strong and police weren't the only ones guarding the village and Uchiha clan was also on its decline, as Itachi stated) could be curbed because Konoha is insanely powerful.

An internal conflict, along with Obito fueling the fire, would be much worse than any of the possibilities you've stated. Why would Konoha Shinobi accept Uchiha, especially if they attacked and overthrew the government? Why would they not view Uchiha as a threat? Why would they ever accept if Uchiha ever won (by mistake) and one of them became a Hokage?

The dissenters of the Hokage would side with the Uchiha. The others would be against them. It's a perfect recipe for a disaster and Itachi knew it well enough.

Itachi was never given a choice to solve the problem. He was only given the options about which side he wanted to choose and sacrifice. It was never about whether he wanted to have things done his own way. It was always about Konoha making him a scapegoat because its leadership was too weak. Uchiha clan gets away with a lot of shit it put Itachi through, but while they were absolutely the victims, they were not innocent in how they treated Itachi. That also includes Fugaku and Mikoto.

You're absolutely right about the last part. The massacre created more problems, but the people who should be called out are Fugaku, Hiruzen, and Danzo. Itachi was only a pawn.

[pumpkinbirth]

Haii! 👋 I’m pretty new to coming across kink blogs here on tumblr (as well as only recently realizing the funny feeling/fascination I get from seeing birth-related stuff may in fact be some sort of kink/fetish) - that said, I saw you do egg-laying stuff and I came to make a req :0

How aboouuut… you’re having your first egg-laying and are a bit nervous, and since the egg itself is quite massive and causing you a fair amount of pain, you’re struggling quite a bit to get it through you. Thankfully, your (parent? S/O? roommate? you decide) is there, gently helping you through the long process, reminding you to breathe through the pain and offering general encouragement.

"Good! You did really good with that one!"

Despite how enthusiastic your partner sounded, you weren't exactly sure how well you were doing. Exhaling slowly through your mouth, you winced as you ran your hand over the broad expanse of your belly. Even though there was only one egg inside you, you both looked and felt as if you were full term with twins. Still, you'd been reassured that this was a normal occurrence, especially for a first lay.

Your partner was more experienced, having laid a few times themselves, so when you began showing signs that you were about to deliver they wasted no time in helping you as much as they could. Which led to where you were now: your room a complete mess as they'd gathered nearly every soft object they could get their hands on in order to convert your bed into a rather cozy nest, your back flush to their front as you labored in their lap. Another set of hands joined yours upon your belly, so when the next contraction crested you both felt it coming.

"N-nngh…!" you cried out, knuckles white as you grasped at the pillows at your side and pushed. Unlike the last one, this time you could really feel the egg progressing inside you. The tip, which had been firmly nestled against your cervix for what felt like hours, finally began inching through with each hard push.

Your chest heaved and belly clenched with effort, your partner the only thing keeping you grounded as they continued coaching your breaths. Keeping one hand on your belly, they reached forward to feel how far you'd progressed.

"You're so close, I can feel it right there!" they murmured excitedly, withdrawing their fingers so you could feel for yourself. Renewed strength ran through you at their words, and at the next contraction you gave it everything you had and pushed, the top of the egg going from barely visible to a full crown in almost an instant. You let out a moan at just how wide it was holding you open, and with another adrenaline fueled push you sobbed with relief as you finally felt it slide out of you.

For a few moments you lay there catching your breath, your skin slick with sweat and the blankets beneath you soaked through. At last you reached forward and gently cradled your egg in your lap, exhausted yet proud of yourself.

[egg-emperor]

Like how these tweets are like trying to suggest Metal permanently leaving Eggman and becoming his own character separate from him but are instead emphasizing the reasons why I love that he isn't lol

Yeah Sonic is all about freedom and positivity. He's a light in dark times, a free spirit that has no master except for the wind that blows free, loves seeing the world and adventure. Meanwhile Metal is trapped under a master and fueled by hate and the desire to kill Sonic. Programmed by Eggman and makes for a bleak existence of constantly trying to prove himself as the worthy superior version Eggman created him to be.

Eggman wants Metal to be like Sonic to rival him but he will never make him exactly the same because he's missing the most important parts that make Sonic, Sonic. All Metal has got is hate and the desire to kill and prove himself. He's a cold killing machine with no freedom, programmed and controlled by Eggman. Unlike Sonic, he has a master that owns him and decides on his entire existence and freedom.

He lacks Sonic's soul, his positive passion and his freedom and he'll never have it, Eggman won't let him. He has tried to break free from that to do his own thing beyond his lines of code a couple of times to do his thing his way, which actually makes him closer to Sonic in an albeit twisted violent way- but was punished by Eggman and went under more restrictions to restore, force, loyalty and obedience.

And bringing Eggman having a clear new favorite into this can set a perfect example of what happens to even his most boasted prized creations when he's either finished or replaces them with another he finds better/most useful in that moment. Metal feeling hatred and jealousy towards other creations but still being unable to break free from Eggman is more interesting than being treated as an equal or betraying him.

He doesn't have a choice. He can be as pissed and jealous as he wants for not being praised and valued the way he was before but he still has to live under Eggman and serve him. Which can turn into working extra hard to try to please him too and Eggman would love and encourage it but never give him the reward of his full approval and praise, so it's neverending game. It's another way to get more good use out of him.

Eggman is exactly the kind of bastard to highly praise his newest favorite toy and specifically emphasize it in front of him and act like he's forgotten about him in comparison to get that reaction and drive out of him. It sets an example of how Eggman's praising of his creations always comes from a place of ego and self praise as their creator and has the interesting concept of him weaponizing praise.

In TMoStH he talks of programming creations with life like personalities and a bounty so they compete for his approval and a reward. This would be very useful with one of his most prized creations like Metal. But then he'd never grant it to keep him endlessly seeking it, another objective that keeps him under his control. He can't break free so he tries to please him to at least be treated better but can't even get that.

I'd love for them to explore it but without having him permanently betray and break free. Because Metal isn't as lucky as the ones that got away, they very rarely do get lucky enough like Omega. Hell, Gamma had to kill his own brothers and die to be free. If you keep letting his creations get away it'd water it down. If you let Metal stay under him with these feelings then fuck man the drama the tragedy, it's so compelling.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Thinking about “you said normal girls were boring, but you were gone by the morning” because I feel like I can interpret it two ways.

The first is the “not like other girls” of it all: him playing up how extraordinary she is, pumping up how big her life is, how unconventional she is, how she is different from all the others, in contrast to the normal life her previous partner wanted from her seemingly to a fault, ignoring the elephant in the room of her extraordinariness. So he winnowed his way into her life by reassuring her of the things she was weighing in her past (her public career vs her private life), and she leaned into that, trying on that hat as a foil to the cage she’d felt she’d trapped herself in. But in the end, he didn’t want her and her life any more than the partner he’d “stolen” her from. (I use that loosely, because she’s a person with agency and free will and not an object to be taken, but I’m using it as shorthand for the actions he took to, well, woo her.) He was as much as a coward, intimidated by her life in spite of promises otherwise.

The second meaning to me is a little more poignant, because in spite of the enormity of Taylor’s life, of her unabashed love of her career and success and the hard work it takes to achieve it all, there’s a through line throughout the album (and throughout her discography) about how she does want to be a normal girl, within the parameters of her big life. She loves being a world renowned record breaking pop star, but she also wants to be a wife and mother and have a home and vacation and friends and dinners and visits and experiences and so on. So she can play into this tortured poet persona in that she does have this deep sadness and trauma in her, and it does fuel her art (and perhaps even some less savoury habits), but she doesn’t want to wallow in that for the rest of her life either. She came very close to being consumed by it by her previous relationship and that is exactly what she is fighting to leave behind. Sometimes, she does in fact want to be the normal girl with the “boring” life, which is not boring at all if it’s what you want.

Either way, the end result is that he doesn’t want that life at all and maybe never even did, and she’s left broken in pieces for believing it.

[shroomiethefrogwhisperer]

The Kids Are Okay (Because You’ve Told Them They Are)

You know what I hate about the internet? Influencers. Not the unrealistic life expectations or the crazy beauty standards influencers.

I hate the ‘you’re perfect just the way you are’ influencers.

Because I’m not perfect. And I’m not saying this in a self-deprecating manner. Objectively, actually, and literally, I am not perfect.

I am depressed. I have clinical, chronic depression, which tints my entire life shades of grey. Even when life is going exactly how I want it to, I am sad. I can have absolutely no reason, and I can and will still feel worthless. I have anxiety. I have an anxiety disorder that makes me insecure, easily overwhelmed, and self-critical to an excessive degree, as well as making me physically sick and unstable. I have thrown up because of it. I am constantly uncontrollably shaky. I have extremely painful headaches every single day.

I have ADHD. I have been diagnosed with a severe dopamine deficiency that makes it nearly impossible to self-regulate without medication. I cannot focus without external stimuli, but too much stimulation is overwhelming. I procrastinate endlessly, to the point where the quality of my grades and work are affected by it.

I have abandonment trauma. I have trust issues. I am a pathological liar. I have body dysmorphia. I overwork myself and tell myself that I can handle it. I am attention-seeking and codependent. I am shallow.

I am not perfect.

Boomers, Gen X, and Millennials wonder why the Gen Z is so depressed. I’ll tell you why we’re depressed.

We have two types of influencers, one of which is setting unrealistic expectations, and the other of which is telling us that we’re perfectly fine the way we are. So we live with these expectations, trying to live up to them and inevitably failing, and telling ourselves that it’s okay. That we don’t need to change anything because this is perfection. But we look at ourselves, at all of our problems, our issues, our vices, our literal illnesses, and we can see that something is wrong. But we’re being told that we’re perfect. So we don’t do anything about it. And it gets worse and worse and worse.

Until we break.

This is why the suicide rate is so high. Toxic positivity is one of the most dangerous forms of indoctrination.

To my influencer community: Please stop spreading the message that ‘everyone is perfect as they are’. I am begging you. Beauty and perfection are not the same thing. Another thing to stop saying is that flaws make the masterpiece. Because it is often read the same way. Every masterpiece has its flaws, yes, but any artist you meet will tell you that they are constantly trying to improve their art. Do not fuel toxic positivity.

To my LGBTQIA+ and woke communities: Stop saying that ‘everyone is perfect the way they are’. I beg of you. I know why you say it. I do. But it’s the same thing. Everyone is beautiful, but no one is perfect. The trans youth deserve better. Please do not continue to support toxic positivity.

When you find this post, reblog it. Repost it to other sites and apps. I could care less if you credited me. Spread this post like a fire. Please.

[crusty-chronicles]

The Moon and Sun (Big Sib Reader x Gon/Killua)

Ch 13: Reap What You Sow

Synopsis: Grief drives people to many things. Some anger, some sadness. But for Y/n, it drives them away from the ones they care about most.

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

Survive.

That was the only thought fueling your body to keep going. What was making you run as fast as you were. All the miles and kilometers you'd first trekked past going by in seconds. Your nen working it's damn hardest to get you out of here. Away from the NGL and whatever the hell that monster was.

Pushing against the rain that started beating down. The slick terrain making it harder to run, so you ditched your other shoe in favor of having a better grip. The two bodies you were carrying were almost nonexistent to you with your current objective.

Almost.

You were almost there.

The pain in your side intensified. You were wounded. And badly by the feel of it. Adrenaline finally starting to wear off, though it must've been less than ten minutes since you fled.

It was fine.

It had to be.

The trees of the NGL border were in sight. Just a little further. You were in the home stretch now. You could make it. You could-!

FLOP!

You let out a hiss of pain as you tripped. Angling the boys in a way that wouldn't hurt their heads. But in doing so, you'd fallen on your side.

You reached down to apply pressure.

"GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!"

It hurt.

It hurt so fucking bad.

Like thousands of little needles piercing your skin. A warm, sticky liquid coating your hand as you kept it there. Your shirt was soaked through.

You were bleeding.

The thought making your stomach churn.

'Get up.'

'You don't matter right now. Get up and run. Leave and don't look back.'

Your inner thoughts taking on a voice you hadn't heard in a very long time. And he was right.

You sucked in a deep breath before pushing yourself up. Had the world always been this dizzy? You brushed it off and went to pick up Gon first.

He was a lot heavier than you remembered.

You almost doubled over when you picked up Killua next. It was getting harder to support their weight. You don't recall ever having trouble picking them up before.

What was happening to you?

You couldn't run full force like you had been. Instead, almost jogging the rest of the way there. Still fast enough to skip through all the security and out the other tree.

You were about ready to collapse. But there was still one more thing you had to do. Your night wasn't over yet. You made your way sluggishly towards a sturdy tree. Big enough to provide cover from the rain.

You placed the boys down as best you could. And after doing a quick once over for any injuries, you allowed yourself to slump against the other side of the tree. Sitting and curling into yourself.

Your en working with the radius of about 10 meters now. But it would be enough. Just in case something else decided to sneak up on you.

Daylight would break in about five hours.

You could last five hours.

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

The light was almost blinding when Killua woke up. Exactly how long had he been out for? The last thing he remembered was...

The Cat Chimera Ant.

The one that had appeared out of nowhere. Aura so intense and scary it paralyzed him. He remembered Gon getting angry. Unbelievably angry.

But why?

He took a second to look around his surroundings. The entrance to the NGL was a good distance away. There was a soft snoring to his left, which he recognized as Gon.

You must've carried both of them here.

Wait.

He remembered now.

That damn ant had slashed your side. And when you felt Gon's aura spike, you tossed both of them over your shoulders and escaped. But Kite hadn't followed behind you.

You were injured.

Which begs the question, where were you?

"Y/n!" He called out, but there was no response.

You wouldn't have just left them here. He was certain of that. You never strayed far from where they were, so after the third time he called for you with no answer, he began to worry.

Killua got up on shaky legs, still reeling from the terror of last night. He needed to find you. Even if it took all day. Luckily, he didn't have to search for very long.

You were just on the other side from where he and Gon had been resting. You were sitting up, breathing eerily slow.

"Hey! How come you didn't say anything!"

His tone was angry because truthfully, you had worried him. Didn't you hear how scared he was? Didn't you sense it too? But his frustration disappeared when you still didn't say anything.

Your head was hanging between your knees with your arms wrapped loosely around them. Your breathing still slow and quiet. He gave a small grumble before moving towards you.

"Of all times you chose to sleep, you chose now? Get up you dummy, we have to-" But the words died in his throat as he stepped in something.

He looked down and saw red seeping into the fabric of his shoe. A thin trail that led back to you in a murky puddle.

"Y/n?" It was questioning this time. Like he was in disbelief. Then it turned into a frantic cry.

"Y/N!"

He rushed over to your side, shaking you in the hopes that this wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.

"Y/N! WAKE UP! WAKE UP GODDAMNIT! PLEASE!"

"I am awake... You're being too loud...Head hurts." Your words came out almost slurred. Head lifting slightly up to meet his eye.

But upon seeing you, Killua could only cry harder. You were pale. All the pigment to your skin practically gone. And your eyes, they'd never looked so tired and empty. The light from them no longer there.

To put it simply, you looked like a husk of yourself. Your shirt being the only indication of color. Soaked with so much blood it turned a dark red.

You needed help. A hospital. Anything.

"Please, please don't die!"

There was so much anguish with his plea. Unable to stop himself from sobbing as he laid you down to see exactly what that thing did to you.

Your hand weakly pushed him away.

"M' fine...As long as you two are okay... Don't mind dying."

"I MIND! YOU CAN'T DIE! YOU CAN'T! YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE US!"

Lifting up your shirt to expose your wound made Killua want to pass out. This had to be a nightmare. A horrible dream that wasn't real.

But the three slash marks on your torso begged to differ. So incredibly deep that blood was still oozing from them. He'd seen worse. He'd dealt much worse, but this wasn't just another target. This wasn't some stranger.

This was you.

You hadn't made a move to stop the bleeding yourself. Had you just sat here the whole night suffering? Dying.

"YOU-YOU IDIOT! WHY DIDN'T YOU GET HELP! WHY THE HELL DID YOU LET YOURSELF BLEED OUT LIKE THIS!?!? WHY!?! WHY DIDN'T YOU-!?!"

But once again, you'd stopped him. Your voice the weakest he's ever heard it.

"It's going to be okay, Killua.... Don't cry over me...M' not worth it..."

As they processed, more tears started falling freely from his face. He was mad yes, but not at you. Never at you. He was mad at himself for not being able to protect you. You may have been the older one, but all three of you promised to look after each other.

And he failed.

He shouldn't be yelling at you. Shouldn't be letting out his frustrations on you. He should be the one reassuring you. The one telling you things would be okay.

Gon would probably hate him for treating you this way. For letting you die.

He already lost one friend here, he was not going to lose another. He was not going to lose you.

He tugged off his shirt and bunched it at your wound, applying as much pressure as he could without hurting you. Though you wouldn't have felt it anyways.

With his free hand, he pulled out his phone from his pocket. It was a miracle he'd managed to sneak it in, and now it would serve its purpose. He quickly dialed the number Kite's team had given, making sure his voice was steady before speaking.

"Hey, what's up?" Spin's voice greeted, unaware of the bombshell he was about to drop.

"... We're at the entrance of the NGL. Something attacked us last night. Something with an indescribable power." Killua hesitated a bit before continuing.

He'd want to know if something happened to you if he was in their position.

"It was too strong for any of us to handle...So Kite stayed behind to give us time to escape."

"What!?! You left Kite behind!?! Why would you do that!?!?"

Spin's anger was very much justified, but Killua's attention was focused solely on you right now. Watching your eyes start to droop closed. The little bit of color they still had fading away.

"What happened out there!?! You explain yourself this instant!!!"

"I'm sorry, there was nothing we could do. Y/n got injured really badly and I-I- don't know what to do. Please, you have to come here or at least send someone. They might-" he just couldn't finish that sentence.

If he did, he would break down even worse than he already was. Your blood had already begun to seep through his shirt. You'd lost so much.

He flinched slightly at the sound of a different voice.

"I understand. Just wait there for the time being." It was Mon. He must've wrangled the phone away from Spin.

"We're all headed your way right now, so it won't be long. And we're bringing reinforcements."

Killua allowed himself to take a deep breath. He needed to calm down. The amateur hunters were already on their way. You'd be fine.

But as your quiet breathing turned ragged, his panic increased once more. He used both hands to continue applying pressure to your side.

"You hear that? Help's coming, so just hang on a little longer." He tried to sound hopeful, to give you a little reassurance.

Your eyes didn't look up at him this time, and that was what caused him to break.

"Please don't die."

He was an assassin. Trained to deal with every outcome, but nothing could have prepared him for this. He didn't remember ever crying this much over anything. No amount of training or his mother's punishments had gotten a reaction this visceral from him.

So why.

Why was he blubbering like a baby over you?

Over what would happen to you if help didn't come in time.

Maybe he did know... But that was what scared him the most.

"I know I give you a lot of trouble sometimes, but that's not enough for you to just give up, right?"

He didn't know what to do besides talk and hope he would get a reaction. Desperation full force as he grabbed one of your limp hands.

You were cold.

No

Please

You couldn't give up yet. You just couldn't.

"I promise I won't mess with you anymore if you get better. I won't ever ask for anything ever again if you just hold on a little longer."

But what if you wanted to die? What if they both had been unbearable to you all along and you just wanted to be left alone? Maybe you secretly hated them for disturbing the life you had on Greed Island.

Maybe you just hated him.

"If-If you don't want to get better for me, then do it for Gon. He really loves you, you know?" And so do I.

"If that's not enough incentive then I don't know what is."

The sound of an engine revving had stopped his blabbering. Looking away from you, he saw a familiar jeep in the distance. He composed himself as best he could. Nobody could see him like this. Weak and vulnerable.

He tugged you closer as two unfamiliar men exited the jeep first. They didn't appear hostile, but they weren't exactly friendly either. His glare wavered as the third stepped out.

It was Netero.

"What the hell is this? They're just kids." The bulkier man said.

At the sound of his voice, Killua felt you weakly squeeze his hand. Your fragile demeanor had tensed up.

If you thought this guy was a threat, then he wouldn't let him anywhere near you.

"You got burned real bad because you thought this was gonna be a game. Just hurry on home before it's too late." He scolded.

Killua's aura quickly became protective.

"Game?" He couldn't hide his hostility when he spoke.

Your life wasn't a game. Kite's life wasn't a game. Last night hadn't been just some fun game he and Gon were playing.

"Stop it, Mr. Morel. That isn't very nice." The other man spoke up, sensing Killua's rising anger.

"As you said yourself, they are only children. And the injured one over there is quite young themselves." The better dressed man gestured towards you.

It was at that moment Netero walked forward, his eyes filling with recognition as they landed on you. He crouched down in front of you and Killua with a smile.

"Y/n Mizaki, long time no see. You've grown quite a bit since I saw you last. We thought you had gone and died somewhere."

Your eyes moved in their sockets to look up at the old man.

"Gramps?"

Killua's hold tightened on you, unbelieving of what he was witnessing. There was no way. You hated hunters.

The old man's gaze wandered from your face to Killua's blood-soaked shirt pressed on your side.

"My, my, you Mizaki's are stubborn ones. These boys would have been fine five minutes without you, but I suppose your pride wouldn't have allowed for that."

Your empty eyes had gained some fire back.

"Go to...hell...you old geezer." You rasped out.

Netero only laughed at your insult.

"So much energy for someone on the verge of death, but I understand why you're so protective of these boys. Let's get you fixed up and send you on your way."

You flinched away as Netero placed his hand over the gashes on your abdomen. A small coating of nen before the skin seemed to stitch itself back together. Three ugly scars left in their wake.

Killua gave a worried glance as you thrashed for a bit before completely knocking out.

"Rest easy knowing you kept these boys safe."

The small assassin didn't like this. Didn't like how friendly Netero treated you. You were not a hunter and yet...he addressed you like you were old pals.

The name attached to the end of yours was also something he didn't like. You didn't have a last name. Maybe he mistook you for someone else.

But then why did you seem to recognize him too?

"Mizaki?" The name of felt foreign on his tongue. If that really was your last name, then why hadn't you told either of them? Did you not trust them? Or was it something else?

"Oh yes. You didn't know? Y/n is apart of a very special clan of hunters...Or they were. I don't remember all the details. Maybe you should ask them about it when they wake up."

The first thought that crossed Killua's mind was he was lying. The second was that you were. A clan of hunters but you weren't one? Something didn't add up.

Then again, you never liked to talk about anything from before Greed Island. And maybe the pieces did start to finally fall into place. Like why you were so practiced in nen.

But he shook the thought from his head for now. Choosing to focus on the one bright side. The bleeding had finally stopped. You would get better with lots of rest. A few days at least and a few weeks at most.

"You certainly seem to be down in the dumps. They won't die, so try not to worry yourself." Netero assured.

But it did little to soothe his nerves. Especially with what was said next.

"If the enemy was able to subdue Y/n, then they must've been formidable."

Killua gripped your limp hand, trying to find a comfort from the memories of last night as he recalled them.

"One of them could use nen. Of all the aura I've ever encountered, this one was the worst."

So incredibly strong it made yours look like nothing.

"Now that I've learned nen myself, I can tell. You guys are unbelievably strong, and still, I don't think even you could take him."

Even you couldn't outrun that thing. The only reason you were able to get away was thanks to Kite. He really should have been nicer to him.

"People overrate things that they can't understand. And that is a perfectly natural response." The nicely dressed man lectured.

What Killua wouldn't give for you to wake up and tear him a new one. To wipe that condescending look off his face for telling him he was overreacting.

"Unfortunately, you're in a state of extreme panic right now. We'll take it from here. You just go to bed and get some rest like your friend."

You would've hated this guy and his now laughing partner. And maybe he didn't like them either. He didn't know he could feel so small without you.

"Look kid, the minute you start calculating the odds of winning in nen combat, well it just shows you're missing the whole point," the one with sunglasses started lecturing before giving a huge speech on nen combat.

But Killua simply didn't care. He didn't need to be told how to fight or the proper etiquette in combat. He didn't need to be treated like a child who knew nothing by someone he didn't know.

This guy wasn't you, therefore he had no obligation to listen to him. To give a damn about his lecture on aura when you could actually see it. You were more than in your right to judge when an enemy was too strong to handle.

And while he couldn't give a damn about what this guy thought, what he said next crossed a line that was never to be stepped over.

"No matter what, always fight like you know you're gonna win. That's what it means to have the spirit of a nen user. Your friend was disqualified the second they got scared of their opponent's nen and ran. They're worse than a loser."

"Morel, that's enough." His friend tried to scold, but it was too late.

Killua unleashed his own furious aura, one that rivaled Gon's from last night.

"DON'T YOU EVER TALK ABOUT THEM LIKE THAT! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THEM SO SHUT UP!"

The spike of nen had caught all three men off guard.

They didn't know you. They didn't know how you pushed yourself to follow, even when you reached your breaking point. They didn't know how quick you were to protect him and Gon when something went wrong. They didn't know how you pushed Kite out of the way to take a hit that was meant from him.

Worse than a loser?

After practically dying to stay here and watch over him?

This guy simply had no right to ever call you that, and he was not about to get away with it.

"Y/N ISN'T A FIGHTER! THEY ONLY CAME ALONG THE KEEP US SAFE! YOUR STUPID RULES DON'T AND WILL NEVER APPLY TO THEM! I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU SAY ABOUT ME, BUT DON'T YOU DARE INSULT SOMEONE WHO'S NOT EVEN CONSCIOUS TO DEFEND THEMSELF!"

There was an angry resolve in his eyes. One that told them Killua would lash out if he was pushed any further. Seems you meant an awful lot to this boy.

But as always, the old man wasn't the least bit fazed by his outburst. Opting instead to direct his attention towards an unconscious Gon.

"Is Gon sound asleep there?"

The question had temporarily quelled Killua's anger. Not enough for it to be gone, but enough for him to answer instead of snap back.

"No, he's not. He tried to attack, but Y/n tossed us over their shoulders before he could. Then the intensity from their aura accidentally knocked us out. I don't know how long it'll be until he wakes up."

The sound of laughter had him tensing up again.

"Sounds like that kid's got a lot more of a future." The one with sunglasses said before his friend once again scolded him.

Killua would ignore that one. Getting upset wouldn't make you better. Starting a fight wouldn't help you get better. No matter how infuriated he was becoming. His attention drifted back to Netero once more.

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

Lugging Gon into the back of the jeep was easy. Even with the eyes burning into his back as he did so. Now trying to lift you was another story. He wasn't tall enough to prevent you from dragging against the ground. And the last thing he wanted was to put you through anymore strain.

He would have to ask for help.

Unfortunately, he wasn't on the best of terms with Kite's team. He was lucky they were even willing to come here at all. Especially after he told them about Kite. Nevertheless, you and Gon needed a safe place to recover. So begrudgingly, he tapped on the car door.

"I need some help."

"Why?" The ice in Spin's tone was expected.

He understood why she was mad. Why they all were. But there was nothing he could do about that. At least, not right now. His first priority was getting you and Gon out of here.

"I can't lift up Y/n. Not by myself."

And before Spin could give a retort, Mon got up from his seat. Sending a sympathetic glance towards the small assassin.

"I got it. You should rest up, too. The nearest city isn't for another 30 minutes."

Killua nodded and let out a small sigh of relief. You weren't in the clear yet, but it was a start. He watched as the bear-like man hoisted you up like nothing. Your body hanging limply from his grasp. Killua once again felt eyes on him and met Spin's scornful glare.

"I still can't believe you left-!" The fight seemed to leave her as she finally caught sight of you.

If it weren't for the slight rise and fall of your chest, she would've mistaken you for a corpse. And as you laid besides Gon, the idea only further cemented. Were you even going to make it?

It was clear now that the three of you hadn't gotten away unscathed. She couldn't be completely upset when the boys were in the same boat as the amateur hunters.

A mentor wounded or gone.

Whatever happened back there, it must've been a terrible ordeal to experience.

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

Gon found himself on a soft surface when he woke up. A stark contrast to the rocky terrain of the NGL. It must've been a bed. He didn't remember falling asleep on one of those.

Or falling asleep at all.

Where was he?

A feeling of dread soon encompassed him.

The ant. All four of you had been ambushed by that ant. Then you'd been injured, unable to fully escape from its clutches. And then? And then.....

He was mad. Angry at that thing daring to hurt you. Then-

Then nothing.

He shot up from the bed. His first instinct was to call for you and Killua. To make sure both of you were okay. So that's exactly what he did.

"Y/n! Killua!"

It wasn't long until he heard fast footsteps rush towards the door. It practically swung open on its hinges, revealing a very relieved Killua.

"You're awake! I was starting to worry!"

He noticed how his best friend's eyes were slightly red and puffy. Had he been crying? He decided he wouldn't bring it up, at least not yet.

"Are you okay?" He asked as Killua approached.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be? If anything I should be the one asking you that. You've been asleep for a whole day."

"A day!?!? What happened!?!?"

Now he really was worried. So much could've happened in a day. At his frantic tone, however, Killua let out a small smile.

"Nothing big, just the Chairman stopping by."

"The Chairman!?!?"

Gon watched curiously as the small assassin produced two broken game pieces from his pocket. Listening intently as he explained what they were for.

A month. A whole month to train and steal the other pieces from Morel's students. A month to get stronger and head back into the NGL. A month to save Kite.

When Killua finished explaining, Gon gave a final look around his surroundings. Something was missing. No, someone.

You.

You weren't here.

"Where's Y/n?" It had been something he was dreading to ask.

If you weren't here then... No, he shouldn't jump to conclusions. Maybe you were just asleep? However, Killua's expression completely dropped.

"I don't think you wanna see them right now."

Gon's face scrunched up in confusion at his response. Killua's distressed tone only worsened his growing nerves.

"Why wouldn't I want to see them?"

"They dont- they don't look like themselves."

Killua was actively avoiding his gaze now. Like he was ashamed. Surely he knew Gon would never blame your condition on him.

"I still want to see them. No matter how bad they look. I wanna make sure they're okay too, you know?"

"Are you sure you'll be able to handle it? It's not... It's not easy to see them like this."

He didn't understand why Killua was giving him so much pushback. You were his big sibling too. If you were hurt, then they would both take care of you.

He placed a hand on the small assassin's shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm sure, and you shouldn't have to deal with taking care of Y/n by yourself. It's our burden to share, okay?"

Killua nodded before helping Gon up. Finally giving in and leading him to the room where you were resting. His hand hesitated over the knob for a second. Mentally psyching himself up before pushing it open.

The first thing that hit Gon was a strong metallic scent. What it could be was unmistakable. Looking in the corner of the room, he saw a pile of bloodied clothes.

The ones you'd gotten from the NGL.

"Y/n doesn't like blood, so I didn't want them to be covered in it when they woke up," Killua explained as he made his way towards you.

The boy in green followed suit, stopping when he reached the side of your bed. He frowned as he took in your state.

Your breathing was far too slow for his liking. A few heartbeats would pass before each rise and fall of your chest. It might've been the only indication that you were still alive because the rest of you...It wasn't good.

All the blood you lost made you pale. The familiar circles under your eyes looked the worst they ever had. No longer a bruising purple, but a sickly gray. Even your face had sunken in a little.

He reached a hand forward and pressed it against your forehead. Something Mito had done whenever he wasn't feeling well. You were cold, but despite that you were still sweating.

"The ant did this to them?" There was something accusing in his tone.

And whereas Killua had completely broken down seeing you, Gon couldn't help but get mad. This shouldn't have happened to you. You shouldn't be laying there like that. You shouldn't be the one suffering while the two of them hadn't gotten a single scratch.

"I won't ever forgive that thing for this."

He barley registered Killua's voice from next to him.

"Me neither, but we have to help them get better first before we do anything else. It's still a gamble if they'll live. Netero only stopped the bleeding. They might've lost too much to come back from. And if that's the case..."

"They'll pull through. Y/n isn't weak. They'll get better, and then we can focus on saving Kite."

There was a familiar fire in his eyes that resembled yours. An unbreakable resolve. That monster may have hurt you, but it wouldn't take your life. You would never allow something like that to happen.

At the thought, his expression finally softened.

"Knowing Y/n, they'll probably be out for a week. We can take turns watching over them, or...."

"Or?"

"We both wait until they wake up. I'm sure they'll start to panic if one of us is missing. Netero's game will just have to wait until then."

You meant more than Netero's whim.

And just like back at the drug factory, Killua believed him without a second thought.

If Gon believed you would wake up, then you would.

If he believed that Kite was still out there alive, then he was.

For now, all both of them could do was sit and wait.

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

You were still out cold the next day. Your condition hadn't improved, per say. The only thing that changed was your breathing. It was more audible now, which might have been an improvement.

Then again, you were always silent when you slept.

It was Gon's idea to put a warm towel on your forehead to keep your growing fever at bay. It was Killua's to set up their beds next to yours, just in case.

The room was silent except for your faint breathing. Both boys opting to concentrate on making their aura stronger while you slept. It was one of the few things they could do without disturbing you or leaving you by yourself.

Hours ticked by as the daylight once again dwindled down. It was debated if they should just take you to a hospital or give you a little more time to recover.

And as they went back and forth on it, a rustling noise was heard. Snapping their heads in the direction of the noise, they were given their answer.

You had turned on your side in your sleep.

"A few more days it is then," Gon confirmed.

Both of their expressions softening at the sight. Killua got up from his place on the ground to re-tuck you in.

"A few more days," he agreed.

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

You felt cold. Like it was the middle of winter and you were exposed to the elements. Your head also hurt like hell. In fact, you just felt like shit in general. You grasped something soft and fuzzy, pulling it closer in the hopes to take its warmth.

Soft and fuzzy.

You don't remember ever owning something like that. Or ever falling asleep on something like it.

Your eyelids might as well have been made of lead the way you were struggling to open them. When you finally managed to get them a sliver of a crack open, you immediately closed them again.

It was too bright.

You tried to turn yourself over on your back instead. But even that proved to be difficult. You willed yourself to move, forcing your arms to push with everything they had. You felt yourself lift a few inches before your body gave out.

Why were you so weak?

What could've taken all your strength from you?

You tried to speak next, but there was a stinging pain in the back of your throat. As if you'd swallowed a thousand razor blades.

God what the hell happened to you?

You rested for five more minutes before trying to turn over again. You succeeded this time, letting a small 'oof' leave your lips from all your efforts. Another five minutes of rest. Then you slowly opened your eyes. Letting another noise of discomfort leave you from the burning light.

A ceiling?

You don't remember one of those either.

Where where you?

You faintly registered the sound of snoring before it stopped all together. There was a yawn followed by a few footsteps that made their way towards you. You shifted your gaze to the side.

"Y/n?!?! You're awake!!!" It was Gon, and from his surprised shout Killua woke up.

That was when everything finally hit you.

You were such a fuckup.

You should have sensed that thing sooner. You should have been fast enough to avoid getting hit. You should have stayed behind, not him.

In fact, you should have died. You should be somewhere in hell, not here with Gon and Killua. And to make matters worse, that stupid old man had said too much.

He goes and spills your secret only to further humiliate you by healing your wounds.

It would have been better if you died. At least then you wouldn't have to face the consequences of your actions. You'd lost complete control twice now.

It was a miracle you hadn't been found yet.

God, how the hell were you going to explain to Kite's team you left him behind to save your own skin. That you were a coward whose only instinct was to survive like a cockroach.

If the boys hadn't been right in front of you, you probably would have left them too.

Your thoughts were cut off by something being removed from your forehead. Only for it to be replaced by a warm hand.

"Looks like your fever's gone down a little. Hey, Killua. Could you grab a cup of water real quick?" Gom addressed to his left.

Killua nodded, giving you a final once over before moving.

"Right."

You heard his footsteps fade into the distance, trying to shift your eyes in their sockets to follow him. You eventually gave up and returned your sights to the other boy.

"Can you move?"

You tried, but your body just wouldn't cooperate. The only thing you could do was stare in a deafening silence.

"How about this. Blink once for yes, twice for no. Can you do that?"

You blinked once.

Relief immediately washed over him. You were hurt, but not to the point where you weren't aware of your surroundings.

"Do you want to sit up?"

Once.

"Okay, let's get you up."

You almost felt like a baby as your torso was hoisted up. So incredibly weak and frail that you couldn't even move by yourself. You winced at the sharp pain in your side. That cat bitch was officially on your list.

It was only a second after you were situated that Killua came in. Maybe some water would soothe the pain in your throat?

"How bad are they?" He asked.

"Okay mentally, but physically not good. They can't really move." Gon answered.

The cup was placed to your lips. How pathetic were you that you couldn't even drink water? You opened your mouth to greedily take in as much of the cool liquid as you could. The pain dulled down to an ache in your throat. It was better than nothing.

It was enough.

"I might feel better with some pain killers." Your voice came out raspy. It still stung when you spoke, but not as bad as it had been.

You had a pretty good idea why it felt like that. You probably shredded your vocal cords when you screamed. You supposed things could have been worse. You could have lost it all together.

The sound of your voice made the duo jump. Neither were expecting you to talk so soon. Hell they weren't expecting you to wake up for another two days. It was a miracle you were so functional in such little time. But both got over their initial shock quickly.

"We might have those in the bathroom. Let me check." Gon disappeared from your side, only to be replaced by Killua.

You tried, key word tried, to focus your eyes, but your ability could only give you a faint reading. Too weak to even use nen. Every hint of an emotion coming out as a blurry blob.

The three of you sat in silence as you gulped down two pills. Which didn't kick in until 10 minutes later. At the first sign of numbing, you angled your head to look down at yourself.

"Why the fuck is this shirt so big? I look like a wannabe rapper." It was unfiltered and loopy, but unmistakably you.

You were immediately engulfed in a hug by both boys. Slowly, you did your best to wrap your arms around them. Noticing the front of your shirt start to become wet.

Were they really that worried about you?

"Well I didn't know your size, and it's not like I had the time to check. You should be grateful." Killua retorted, but it sounded more nasally than usual.

"It smells."

Your light jest finally putting both of them at ease. You could feel the relief and overwhelming happiness from both. Good, your ability was gaining a little bit of strength back. (As were you.)

"Because you stink, ever thought about that, smelly?"

Killua quickly pulled away from you, eyes as wide as dinner plates. Remembering his earlier promise to your unconscious form.

"I'm sorry."

You'd never seen his look so guilty. Something was clearly wrong. You were sure he had nothing to apologize for.

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything."

"For being mean to you. I didn't-I never really mean it."

Oh.

Was that what he was upset about?

You tugged him back into you. You weren't the best with comfort, but you would try. Both of them looked like they needed it right now.

"Don't be sorry, okay? I really don't mind. I get under your skin the same way you get under mine, which you don't by the way. So don't worry about it, okay?"

A few sniffles before the grip around you tightened. A nod against your shoulder as he curled into you. Then you heard it again. Those same two words, but from Gon this time.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. If I'd lost control back there, I would have gotten in the way. And if I had, all four of us would have died!" It was a sob against you.

Because now that he knew you really were okay, he allowed himself to finally break.

"It's all my fault you got hurt! I wasn't strong enough to protect you!"

And like Killua, you tugged him a little closer.

"It's not your fault. Never blame yourself for things that are out of your control. The fact is, we were caught off guard. There was nothing you could have done."

He pushed away from you to meet your eye.

"But I could've-!"

You squeezed his cheeks to stop him.

"You could've what? Seen it? Fought it? You can't see aura and you don't have a strong enough en. If me and Kite felt it was too strong, then what chance do you think you have? There was nothing you could have done. And look at me, really look at me when I tell you this next part."

Honey colored eyes tearfully stared back into your tired ones.

"My injury was not your fault. Your reaction was impulsive, but not your fault. You got angry, so what? As long as both of you are okay, then nothing else matters. There's no need for an apology, okay?"

He nodded against your palm before practically tackling you into another hug. They both stayed there, content to bask in your presence.

The one that was lively instead of comatose.

"Hey, Y/n. About what Netero said..." Killua asked after a while.

You cursed that old geezer to the grave and back. He just had to run his mouth. He just had to ruin the life you were starting to build. You don't remember exactly what he said, but you remember hearing that damn name.

"What did he say?"

Killua hesitated, not sure if he should push. Maybe you were giving him an out. He decided to take it. Strain wouldn't be good for you right now.

"Nevermind...Oh, I have something for you!"

He completely parted from you, walking to the other room to get what he was looking for. He came back with his hands behind his back.

"We did our best to clean it for you, so sorry if there's still some, uh, well let's not worry about that right now."

Something plopped down on your lap. The three of you looking at it in silence. A part of you wished you dropped it back there. At least then the weight of your actions wouldn't have been as heavy.

In your lap sat a very familiar hat.

Kite's blue hat.

The one he gave you moments before everything went to shit.

Like Killua warned, there were specs of red littered on the brim. No doubt from when you shoved it in your pocket after you collapsed against the tree. Considering how much blood you lost, the cleanup wasn't bad.

You stared at it, and it seemed to stare right back. Almost taunting you, knowing its original owner was probably dead. Silently telling you it was all your fault. That it was the only part of him that made it out of there.

You wanted to throw it away. Toss it out a window. Anything that would get it away before the guilt completely consumed you. Before you could think about the consequences of your actions. Of abandoning him.

As if sensing your inner turmoil, Gon gave your arm a squeeze. Deciding to comfort you the way you had been comforting them.

"Kite is still alive. He would never be beaten, not by something like that."

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe the man you'd fallen for was still out there. But there was something telling you that wasn't the case. An overwhelming feeling of dread that said otherwise.

"But he might've been injured. And if that's the case, then trying to move might be hard on him, so he's probably hiding. He's waiting for us to come back." Gon continued.

You looked at him this time, watching determination swirl in those honey colored eyes. He really believed with his whole heart Kite was okay. Maybe you could fool yourself too. Pretend that everything would turn out okay.

"So now, me and Killua get strong and we find him. We're gonna go save Kite."

He looked so much like her. You almost couldn't stand the sight. He had the same optimism, too. A little ray of sunshine in a world that was far too dark for it to last.

"Yeah? Well I'm counting on you goobers to do all the heavy lifting anyways." You gave a tired smile and at last picked up Kite's hat.

You'd have to keep it somewhere safe.

There was still one more elephant in the room. You pushed with everything you had to stand up. Both boys fussing as you did so.

"You're not strong enough to stand yet!"

"Hey! You're going to hurt yourself doing that!"

You brushed off their attempts to get you back into bed. You couldn't rest until you did this first. You wouldn't deserve it until you did.

"I have to do something important."

But neither of them were having it.

"It can wait!" Killua lectured.

"Your recovery is more important right now!" Gon agreed.

They were too stubborn for their own good. Then again, so were you.

"Twenty minutes. Give me twenty minutes, and if I'm not back by then come get me. Please, I need to do this." You stood up as straight as you could.

Your legs felt like Jello and every muscle in your body was screaming at you to lay back down. Push through the pain. You just had to push.

"Not by yourself."

"You must think we're crazy to let you go out by yourself like this."

You patted the tops of their heads.

"By myself. I promise I'll be okay."

A few more unhappy grumbles and you were on your way. Your nen wasn't at full strength yet, but it was manageable. You closed your eyes and tried to sense who you were looking for. You found a faint trail from a few days ago.

They were probably the ones that dropped off the boys.

You followed it on shaky legs until you reached a building. Five minutes left. God you'd never been this slow in your life. At least you made it.

You knocked on the door and waited. A million thoughts were going through your head as you stood there. You had no real idea of what to say. You were never good with these things. You tensed up as the door finally opened.

Six familiar faces appeared behind it. All of which you could call by name. They looked at you curiously. (Mostly because they just couldn't believe you'd made it after all.)

"I know that I'm the last person you want to see at the moment." Your voice was still raspy as you addressed the amateur hunters.

You bowed your head down. You couldn't exactly kneel like you were used to doing. You probably wouldn't have been able to get back up if you did.

"But I am truly sorry. I know there's nothing I could do that would even begin to make up for what I've done."

You came all this way in that condition just to apologize. Struggling to stand, struggling to speak, and struggling to keep your eyes open. Coming from who knows where just to say you were sorry.

It was baffling to most of them. How someone could force themselves up after almost dying. Why you came here instead of recovering.

But to one of them, it had earned her respect.

Kite really did pick someone special. The last thing he would have wanted was for them to be mad at you. You were just looking out for your own, the same way he looked after them.

For now, it was easier to pretend he was still out there. Still alive and doing his best to get back to them.

"You should get some rest and come see us when you're feeling better." Spin suggested.

No, how could she be mad at you when the shock on your face said it all. It was almost like you couldn't believe none of them were lashing out at you. That they weren't gonna hold a grudge. You put too much pressure on your shoulders.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I should just-"

You collapsed before you could finish. The weight of everything finally took much for you to carry. You could only hope you'd be a little stronger when you awoke.

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

Safe to say, the boys weren't too happy with you when they went to pick you up. It started with a feeling of worry. Then a call from Spin. Then full blown panic because what the hell were you thinking!?!?

You were in no shape to be walking around, nevertheless three miles to who knows where!?!? But, they couldn't be that upset with you when they learned the reason why.

As Mon was once again carrying you into the jeep, Spin couldn't help but overhear the two of them.

"I just don't understand why they came all the way here. They're just so reckless" Killua complained.

"They came here to apologize for what happened with Kite." She explained.

And it clicked for them. What you said earlier about doing something important. This was important to you. Making sure you apologized for what you felt was your fault. Saying sorry to a friend was more important than recovering.

"Take care of them, okay?"

It went without saying that they would.

They made sure you were tucked in again when they got back. A bottle of water and a few painkillers next to your bed. Another warm towel on your forehead because your fever started to flare up.

You slept the rest of the day and halfway into the next. There was some color in your cheeks now. You were still cold, but you didn't look like a corpse anymore. Little by little, you seemed to be getting better.

When you woke up in the evening, there was a pleasant smell in the air. One that made your stomach growl. How long had it been since you ate? Four, maybe five days. You'd probably get some strength back if you had a proper meal.

You cracked your eyes open and stretched. Quickly catching the attention of the small assassin who sat a few feet away from you.

"Did you have a good sleep?" He questioned, though it sounded a little upset.

"How long was I out?" You rubbed the sleep away from your eyes. Seems you could move by yourself now.

"Another day and a half."

"Oh."

"Oh? Don't you 'oh' me young lady/man! First you go out by yourself and then you end up collapsing over there! You should've asked for help if you were going over to apologize!"

You winced at his angry tone. Maybe you should've waited until you were a little better. But your conscience wouldn't have allowed you. If you were awake, you were okay to get up and do what you had to. Still, it was your responsibility either way. Not theirs.

"I'm not a-" you shook off your initial response. You wouldn't go into that right now.

"It's not something for either of you to worry about. It's my responsibility to make things right. Sometimes that means putting my needs last. I'm not proud of knocking out, but I don't regret going over there."

He frowned at your words, still not fully understanding why you did it by yourself. He chalked it up to your pride not wanting to rely on kids. One day it would kill you.

He gave a defeated sigh before changing the subject.

"Gon's in the Kitchen making dinner. A recipe he learned from his aunt. You wanna go eat?"

A loud rumble erupted from your stomach.

"You didn't hear that, but yes. I'm feeling a little hungry."

"A little?" There was something teasing in his tone, causing you to cross your arms.

"I said what I said, gremlin."

You tossed the blanket off of you and planted your feet on the floor. A count of three and you stood up. You felt sluggish, but not as weak as you were. You'd be able to get around fine now.

You followed behind Killua as he led you to the kitchen. Getting a proper look at the small house. It felt cozy for what it was. Then again, who were you to judge? You hadn't been in a house in over a decade.

The delicious scent got stronger as you made your way into the open area. In the middle, a table with four chairs. To the left was Gon, a small pot on the stove simmering.

"Whatcha got cooking, chef?"

At the sound of your voice, he turned around and beamed.

"Y/n! You finally woke up. Good thing I made extra today." He gave the pot a stir before giving you his attention again.

He wasn't as upset at Killua, that is, if he even had been at all.

"Yeah? Hunter's intuition finally coming in?" You teased.

"He's lying. We always made extra just in case you wake up," Killua whispered.

You gave him a nudge, telling him to go set the table before he rained on the other one's parade. He gave a few words of protest, but did so nonetheless.

"It's soup, by the way," Gon called out.

Ah yes, soup. The potion of the sick. You'd eat good tonight. And by the looks of it, you were on dish duty, too. Not that you minded.

"It's ready!"

You and Killua cheered as you were served. The latter having removed the fourth chair from the table. Perhaps one day it would be filled by a certain silver haired hunter. You watched as steam rose from the bowl. The scent of the broth wafting tantalizing into your face.

"Y/n?"

You gave your attention to the small assassin who had clasped his hand with Gon's. Both reaching for yours, much to your confusion.

"We're gonna say grace now. I didn't get it at first either, so don't worry if you accidently ate already."

You gave a small laugh.

"I know what it is, I just haven't done it since I was a kid. Here," you extended your hands towards them.

You bowed your head down. The silence lasting no longer than a second before it was interrupted.

"Thank you for the food!" They said in unison.

You mumbled in your thanks as well. The table once again fell silent.

It felt peaceful.

A tranquility you hadn't had in a while. Being surrounded by the ones you loved without having to worry. It was enough to make your heart swell. You wished it could've been like this all the time.

But you knew the longer you stayed here, the more at risk they'd be.

You wanted to believe you'd keep yourself in check, but twice now you'd failed. It was only a matter of time before....

They were not safe with you and you were not strong enough to protect them. You'd grown soft and weak. It wasn't until you felt truly helpless in the Cat Chimera Ant's presence, did you finally realize it.

You knew what you had to do. What must be done in order to keep them safe. That didn't make it any easier.

They'd be okay for a month without you. You had no doubt they'd get strong enough to take those game pieces. And if you were gone longer.... It's best not to think about that possibility.

While you were there, you could look for Kite. Maybe, just maybe he was alive after all. And if anyone could find him, it was you.

Right now, you'd enjoy these moments. Make them the best you could and treasure them. Let yourself just be happy, if only for a few more hours.

"Let's dig in!" Killua announced before chugging down the whole bowl.

"Careful or you'll choke," you scolded.

He gave a playful glare before downing another one.

You directed your attention to Gon who was eating just as ravenously.

"You two eat like you're starved," you mumbled as you took a first bite.

Immediately your eyes lit up. And just like the boys, you quickly devoured your first bowl. Could it be due to the fact that you hadn't eaten in days, or the soup was just that good, you'd never know.

"This is your aunt's recipe? Mito, right?" You questioned.

"Yup," he responded, looking quite proud of himself.

"I'm going to run away with her and we're gonna get married on some Galapagos Island and live happily ever after just so I can eat this every day."

Killua choked on his soup from next to you.

"Sorry, Aunt Mito has standards." Gon retorted.

You gasped in feign horror.

"I am the epitome of standards, I'll have you know. And if she won't marry me, then at least tell me what it's made of."

"It's a family recipe. But the secret ingredient is love."

"The secret ingredient is lies. I know there's some secret spice you're not telling me about. Is it basil? I bet it's basil."

"Basil isn't a spice, you dummy," Killua thumped the back of your head.

"See! This is exactly why I'm going to marry Mito. She wouldn't steer me wrong."

All three of you started laughing. Clutching full stomachs and wheezing. You almost felt like a-

Like a family.

You made up your mind

You'd leave tonight.

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

"So you two have just been sleeping on the floor this whole time?" You asked, gesturing towards the pile of blankets next to your bed.

"We didn't wanna leave you by yourself until we were sure you were okay." Gon answered.

"Plus you looked terrible. It didn't feel right leaving you alone," Killua added.

Your expression softened. They really were worried about you. They should've been training to beat that Morel guy's students, not cooped up all day taking care of you. But they went and did so anyways.

"Thank you for watching over me. I don't think I would have been able to recover as quickly as I am without you two."

You hulled up the pile of blankets, noticing the way their auras swelled with affection. With pride.

"Unfortunately, the sleepover's over. You two are gonna sleep on your actual beds from now on. What is it that you're supposed to say to kids before they sleep?"

You paused your movements to think.

"Take a bath and brush your teeth? Don't forget to floss? Something something bed bugs? Eh, it'll come to me."

You continued on to the other room with both boys following suit. Giggling at your attempts of recollection.

"I thought you said you weren't our parent?" Killua said before dodging the pillow you threw at him.

"I'm not. It's called being a responsible adult. Now go and do one of those first things while I set up the bed. I know for a fact there's a 99% chance you'll throw down with the fitted sheet if you do it."

Before Killua could give another retort, Gon was pulling him away.

"Come on, let's do what they ask before they decide to throw another pillow at you. And I don't think they'll miss this time."

You listened as their footsteps faded. You were dreading the night. The sun already begining to set. You wished there was more time in the day.

You were waiting expectantly by the time they finished. Having the cover pulled down to tuck them in. The sky already dark with stars.

"Alright, get in. You've got a long day tomorrow."

"You're gonna cover us? We're not babies, Y/n," Killua complained. Yet he still went to lay down.

"We're not babies mimimimimi, just let me tuck you in. And for the record, you are babies. You're my babies."

You waited for Gon to get on the other side before tossing the blanket over them. Smoothing it out before tucking one side. Then reaching over to do the next. You took a step back and admired your handy work. It'd been a while since you did this. Although back then it was way sloppier.

You went to turn off the light, but were stopped by Gon's voice.

"Wait, you're not gonna give us a goodnight kiss?"

Your face scrunched up in confusion.

"I mean, it's just something Aunt Mito always does and I...well nevermind. Forget I said anything."

You could feel his aura shift into something bashful.

They really weren't making this easy on you.

You leaned over and gave his forehead a smooch.

"Goodnight, Gon."

He relaxed and snuggled into the covers.

"Goodnight, big sib."

You looked over at Killua, who when he caught your gaze, quickly turned away in embarrassment. You playfully rolled your eyes and moved over to give him a kiss on his forehead too.

"Goodnight, Killua."

There was a muffled 'night big sib' from under the covers he hid away in. You made your way to the light switch and flipped it off. Casting one last look behind you before shutting the door.

You sat on your own bed and waited. You didn't even realize you were crying until you felt something wet sliding down your cheek. You knew you had no right to be upset. Especially since you were the one going through with this.

You'd convinced yourself this was for their own good. That this was the only way for you to safely get stronger without exposing them to-

You'd never truly escaped them, had you? Physically yes, but mentally? Even in spirit they were governing your actions.

No, you were making the right choice.

But for the boys or you, you couldn't tell.

You waited about four hours before getting up. Changing back into the NGL appropriate clothes. It was a miracle they weren't as stained as you thought they'd be. If you squinted, you couldn't even tell there was blood. You grabbed Kite's hat.

If you did find him, you'd give it back. Maybe say something stupid like how he really was a princess being a damsel in distress. Maybe get mad at him for not following behind you. Maybe kiss him.

You exited your room and made silent steps towards the front door. Hand almost touching the knob before a familiar voice stopped you.

"Y/n? What're you doing up?" A sleepy Gon questioned. Rubbing at his eyes to wake up more.

"I was gonna go for a walk. I couldn't sleep and I wanted to clear my head. What are you doing up, munchkin?" It was a small fib. But better that than the truth.

"I couldn't sleep either. My gut was telling me something bad was gonna happen."

Those damn hunter instincts.

"You wanna talk about it?" You offered.

He nodded. You made your way to your room and emerged with a comforter. Plopping down in front of a window with it draped over your shoulders. You extended your arm out, as if spreading a wing.

"Come here and tell me what's wrong."

And he did just that. Sitting on your lap as you covered the two of you with the comforter. Both looking up at the night sky. Something about it immediately put Gon at ease. It was almost enough to make him fall asleep. The warmth along with your presence.

"What happened?" You asked.

He gave a yawn before answering.

"I had a bad feeling, is all. Like something was gonna happen to one of us. It's going away now."

You hugged him a little closer. Silently reassuring him.

It felt all too similar to when you and her would stay up watching the stars. Trading secrets in the dark as you waited for the sun to rise. You almost felt inclined to do that now. Your resolve wavering.

But you truly were a terrible person.

So instead you asked something that had been weighing on your mind.

"Why did you get so upset when the ant injured me?"

What you remembered most that night was the dark swirl in his aura exposing itself in full. It was what snapped you out of your panic. You didn't like it.

"Because," he stopped to let out another yawn.

"Nobody has the right to hurt you."

It was a shock to your system. Your body never once having heard those words. It was so baffling you gave pushback.

"And why is that? I'm nothing special, you know?"

But Gon didn't hesitate. In fact, he sounded more sure of himself.

"You are special, to me and Killua at least."

Your next words came out impulsively. Tumbling out before you could stop them. Mind refusing to believe that.

"And what if I told you I use to kill people for fun. Would I still be as special." As important.

It was almost a habit at this point. Not thinking you deserved this much kindness. The sweet words. People who actually cared about you. Wanting to find any excuse as to why you didn't deserve happiness.

"...I already told you I don't care."

Hand reaching for yours as he continued.

"If you really were as horrible as you say, you wouldn't have warned us about Binolt. You wouldn't have protected me from Razor. You wouldn't have pushed Kite out of the way. And you wouldn't have almost died to keep us safe.

"We may not know a lot about your life before Greed Island, but we know you as a person. So I don't care about what you say about yourself. I know you, so stop trying to scare me away."

You truly couldn't say anything. Your heart hurt as you processed each and every word. Here this kid was singing your praises when you were about to abandon him. It was almost enough to make you give up on your plan and stay.

God, why was this so difficult.

You were the scum of the earth.

"Yeah? You love me no matter what, huh?"

You felt him nod, curling further into you.

"Love you, too. Now try to get back to sleep. You're gonna need it for tomorrow."

But neither of you made a move to get up. Him because he felt comfortable in your grasp, and you because you didn't want to startle him.

So you sat for a good five minutes before an idea struck you. It might've been a cheap trick, but it was sure to knock him out. Something you'd only done for her.

You started humming an old tune. One of your favorites from when you were little. Or should you say, one of her favorites. You may not have remembered all the words, but you knew the tune from heart.

Gon relaxed further into you. Your soft humming lulling him to sleep. You had a nice voice. It had an almost old-timey sound to it. He leaned his full weight on you, on the verge of falling asleep.

"See you in the morning, Y/n," he mumbled. His aura flickering before going out completely.

You waited another five minutes before gently picking him up and carrying him back to his room. Laying him beside Killua once more as you tucked him in.

"I'll see you when I see you, my little sunspot." You whispered. You looked over at Killua who was dead asleep.

"You two, my precious moon star."

You closed the door quietly behind you. Sticking a note on the front door before leaving completely.

"I hope I'll be enough when I get back. Someone deserving of all your kindness and love. Until then... Goodbye."

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

Fun fact #14: Y/n was humming this.

MASTERLIST

Tags: @fandomhoe101 @justxiao @bekataylorgriggs

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

An: this has been 👇

Gon: Y/n, let me see what you have?"

Y/n: Unhealthy coping mechanisms!"

Killua: NO!"

Next two updates will be our backstory chapter and alternate chapter. The backstory chapter will be skipable because I know not everybody likes to read those, but it'll add some context to our insert's actions. The alternate chapter is exactly what it sounds like. An alternate chapter for Decisions where Y/n stays behind.

[tyrantisterror]

At Sea Without a Map pt. 50

As the mothman flutters away, you turn to Calibani and Bob. "We're going straight down," you tell the two fish ladies. "And I guess there's going to be some monsters there, including at least one of the human variety."

"I'm with you all the way," Calibani says without hesitation. "No matter what it takes, I'm getting you home."

"Ditto," Bob says.

You nod and give them a grateful smile. Their support isn't surprising, but you don't want to take it for granted either. Still, the mothman's words resound in your head, and you can't help but fear there's some angle you haven't considered yet. It takes almost tripping over bob's mermaid tail for you to realize what it might be.

"Um... so, here's the thing, ladies," you tell your friends, "Not all humans are as, um... accepting as I am, and if we meet some more..."

Bob stares blankly at you as you trail off. "If we meet some more then... what?"

"They might get scared," Calibani says, anticipating your thoughts before you even say them. "That's alright, I can deal with that." She closes her eyes, and slowly her body begins to change. Her scales thin out until they blend almost seamlessly with her skin, which changes in tone from teal to a blue-green that's so pale it could almost pass for a human skin tone, albeit if that human was feeling very ill or cold. Her hair darkens until its green sheen is lost, and her claws retract until they look at a glance like very long nails. Finally, her ear-like fins fold in on themselves until they're hidden in the locks of her hair, while she slides her tail into her skirt and wraps it around her legs to keep it out of sight. "Tada! I'm almost human, right?" she says with a smile.

You nod. "That's really impressive, Calibani. I didn't know you could do that."

"Really? I did it when we first met, you know," she reminds you. "To hide the fact that... um... I guess we don't need to dig up the past, do we?"

"It's pretty cool," Bob says as she sits on the deck of the ship. You and Calibani watch her expectantly, and she stares blankly at you for a long while before saying, "Oh. Yeah, no, I can't do that."

"Shit," Calibani says. "How are we going to pass you off as a human, then?"

Luckily, you get an idea. You quickly raid the closet below deck, finding a number of things that could help. You pin another blanket into a makeshift skirt, then tie two spare boots to the ends of a rope before tying it around Bob's waist. Adding one spare t-shirt to the ensemble, and you've got your mermaid friend passing for a human.

Seriously, who would be able to tell the difference?

With that settled, you, Calibani, and Bob pile into the captain's quarters above deck. As you grip the steering wheel, you will the ship to dive, and your boat lets out one last howl before obeying your command and sinking deep below the surface of the sea. A vast underwater world rushes by you in your air-tight captain's cabin, with all manner of strange fish passing you as your ship plunges deep, deep into the belly of the sea.

Eventually you spot something massive and shining below you - a huge, spherical object lurking in the gloom below. The closer you get, the more massive it appears, until eventually you make out just what it is that you're approaching.

It isn't a fish.

What it is, exactly, isn't fully clear to you, as you've never seen anything like it before. But if you had to hazard a guess, you'd say it's some sort of sea station - the fact that you spot two strange submarines buzzing around it adds fuel to that theory's fire, in fact, though a number of oddities in its design, particularly the huge sewing needle that's bolted into its underside, muddy the waters a tad.

Your head aches slightly as a voice shouts inside it, "DO NOT BE AFRAID. APPROACH THE DOCKING BAY ON THE UPPER LEVEL. YOU ARE WELCOME, YOU ARE SAFE. THIS MESSAGE BROUGHT TO YOU BY SPINDLE INC. SPINDLE - WEAVING A BETTER FUTURE ONE THREAD AT A TIME! DO NOT BE AFRAID. APPROACH THE DOCKING BAY ON THE UPPER FLOOR-"

You will the voice to stop, and it complies. As the massive sea station gets closer and closer, with its two submarines lurching towards your boat out of the gloom, you consult your compass.

[gaiamossiah]

Just random thoughts. (Or theories if you can call them that) DGM related

So it seems that Innocence really are the "aliens" in the story and the Noah were the people tasked to eliminate this foreign object from the world. My thoughts will circulate on this idea about the Noahs and their duty to remove Innocence. It was smart how the Innocence infiltrated or used religion as a disguise to appear on the good side because religion always has this image of being the "light" or "good-natured". Much like how Luminas from Tensura used religion so she can maintain followers without the discriminantion from humans because she's a demon lord (and a vampire more over). This really helped in gaining human society's trust and favor.

The Noah seems to just hate the Innocence and the current world. My memories are a bit clouded, so idk if that includes humans. Idk if they would adore humans given if the situation is different. But then again, they nonchalantly allows the use of grief to call upon souls to fuel Akumas and kill innocent people hahahuhu. I just thought that their role of chasing Innocence and getting rid of it, took a toll on them then the Pillar happened. And so they become twisted from trauma and probably exhaustion from their duty.

At first, I thought the Earl was like an honorary member of the Noah clan. Something like who had an agreement to cooperate but we did see him labeled as "1st disciple" (sorry no screenshots as proof lol im on my phone rn). And rather than the Earl having influence on them, it seems the Noahs have the influence on him (or maybe that's just because he's not exactly sane right now). Idk, it's just that the way they are protecting him feels like it is not because of concern but because they need him for something. Ok anyways, I'm wandering off to something else lol.

But even with the clues about how Noah clan is the original "chosen ones" compared to the accommodators (in relation to "chosen one or disciples of God"), I'm still confused about one thing. Why does the Earl, the 1st disciple's ability, is to consume the soul? (There are implications, at least to the trans I've read, that the Earl and Adam are different entities but oh well I won't dwell on that) Because it's kind of similar to how Innocence eats. Idk how big the difference is but the Earl eats the soul but Innocence feeds on the "energy" of helix of life. I can't remember atm if the soul is the same as the helix of life or just a part of it but they're definitely related.

And besides if we look into how the actual Noahs, Apocryphos, and Fallen ones look really alike... It seemed to be saying that they are part of the same species. So I'm thinking that they are the same species and the Noahs are accommodators as well but just in a different sense. This sounds silly but the "Innocence" can be the runaway ones or criminal-like part of their society (if they had one) and the ones that the Noahs have act like police that chase after them. As for why they need to inhabit humans to be able to do anything... well idk. Apocryphos exists but I'm clueless how the Noah side doesn't have that kind of existence/ally. I want to say that maybe it's the other way around? That the Noahs rebel from the group and don't want to go hop from world to world to consume energy from its inhabitants. But they cant be "chosen ones" if they are mainly rebels or are they just self-proclaimed, delulu chosen ones 🤣🤣 (most likely not i guess).

Still, both innocence and noah are out to destroy each other. But somehow, i think the Innocence just wants to eat aka offer to the Heart. Exorcists do go to war against the Akuma and the Earl but I think that's just the Innocence's way to cause more grief and hardships for the accommodator which generates energy for helix of life which means more nomnom for them and the Heart. Whatever the Heart becomes or plans to do once it's fully fed and revived, the Noahs want to avoid that and that's why they attack like crazy, even to the point of making akuma, Tease, and other tools to help them. It's still questionable even for me though, whether they take pleasure from making Akuma or if it's an i-have-no-choice situation.

These sound crazy and childish in a way but from the current events, it just feels like any sort of special ability is not native to the DGM world. But then again, we had the "magic" or techniques that Cross uses (as well as the Skulls') and of the Crows so my ideas still feel very shaky.

But that's why I don't really like to call these "theories" because they're just random ideas that hit my brain while i reread the series or when DGM suddenly crosses my mind in a random situation on a random day. 🤣 Thanks for reading if you did. I know a ton of my ideas don't make sense and if you want to point them out pls do so nicely. 🥹🙏

[ner0scum]

Magia Record just released new witch forms in the latest Factor of Despair event and I'd like to go through them and give my thoughts!

Do be aware that these are just my opinions :3 (also don't expect an in depth analysis this is just me gushing incoherently over designs)

Spoilers Below

Starting with Obariyon, Tsumugi Wakana's witch.

I'd like to start this by saying that this might be one of my favorites of the bunch. They're all really good, but something about this one just really pleases me. When I first saw it my first thought was "witch" and I know that's silly because obviously it is a witch, but the design really encapsulates the witch designs in the series, at least to me. What I'm trying to say is that it fits. It's beastly, it's bizarre, and it has a theme*.

I wasn't exactly sure how a vacuum witch was going to look but they pleasantly surprised me with this one. I especially like how they turned her into a bear, I find that very neat.

*Note that this is a crude list of what witches are. I'm sorry for the shallow, dumbed-down tldr of a witch but I really liked this design and couldn't find the right words to explain why, plus my brain is running on fumes. I hope the paragraph made a little bit of sense to at least someone reading ^^;

Carmela, Manaka Kurumi's witch.

What I like about this is how they continued to play into the jellyfish idea. When looking back at the doppel form, it gives me the idea of the jellyfish life cycle: going through the ephyra stage and transforming into the medusa stage, where the tentacles grow longer. It also eludes to an octopus with its many arms all multitasking, but the jellyfish idea still works, and is probably better.

Jellyfish have two kinds of tentacles: the stingers to paralyze the prey, and the oral arms to bring food into its mouth. Carmela has these two arm types as shown above: the ones with the burners and the ones that hold the cooking equipment—the dangerous arms that could harm anyone if they got too close, and the arms to serve food.

It also appears that Carmela lost her chairs that once stood on her face, only to be replaced by some kind of mass. I'm not sure what it could be, but I think it could either be fuel or the mysterious meat that she serves to guests.

Hevelius, Mifuyu Azusa's witch.

I'll be honest and say I didn't know what to think of this witch form at first. I'm not exactly a huge fan of the witch designs that are more on the humanoid side; however, this design does make sense for the bird-catcher theme.

A bird-catcher isn't just an object like a cage (which was what I originally thought of when hearing the term), but also a person who catches birds, and as we know, Mifuyu's doppel's description is a reference to the bird-catcher character from the novel Night on the Galactic Railroad.

When I remembered that detail, I came to appreciate the witch form much more.

Pennen Nenemu, Nemu Hiiragi's witch.

I originally didn't like this witch form because I thought it broke the whole bird-theming shared between Iroha, Touka, and Nemu's doppels (the loss of the red beak the doppel had). The only thing it has left that could tie into birds are the tail feathers and cape but that seems about it.

Still, I don't hate this design and I in fact still like it in its own way. I know I said that I wasn't a fan of the more humanoid witches, but that's not to say I outright hate them. Besides, the more I look at the picture the more I come to admire it.

Pennen Nolde, Touka Satomi's witch.

Something I liked in Pennen Nolde's doppel design was how the matchsticks were attached to its hanger, but here it seems more like she carries them around in her little basket. Another thing that's different is the clothes. The more elegant, frilly cloak/dress the doppel had is now more modest and meek, which does tie into the character that the doppel/witch references: the poor girl selling matches in Oscar Wilde's The Happy Prince.

Still, in my personal opinion, I feel like they could've done more with this design while still maintaining the ties to the girl from the story. I feel like they should've kept the matches attached to the hanger (which in turn would still be coming out her back) as that would've made her seem more intimidating, kind of like a peacock. But then again, Charlotte wasn't intimidating and she was still dangerous and kicked ass.

Overall it's solid.

Finally, Old Dorothy, Alina Gray's witch.

Obviously we weren't going to get a bunch of paint splatters as those weren't the doppel's true form and was instead the cute little paint tube that sprouted from Alina's back. I was most excited about this one as Alina's one of my favorites and I have to say I wasn't disappointed.

I adore the gas mask as it plays into the toxicity and virus-like quality of the paint she produces. The little blue lines on the face also play into that theme as it appears she's sick as well, putting her in a perpetual state of dismay. Perhaps she looks like that because Alina herself is disgusted that she got a cute witch form as opposed to a nightmare creature.

Unfortunately I don't have much to say other than I like it and would love to see how Old Dorothy fights in battle

Finally, we're done. Feel free to share your thoughts and opinions of these designs if you'd like.

[senka-mesecine]

Pitching the idea of Reader being a poor nurse that the boys just can’t get enough of, probably arriving with reinforcements to treat the wounded on base and subsequently becoming the begrudging object of the affections of both Barnes and Elias’ squads : )

-

Just to shake things up, would be interesting if they were all obsessive...but not all of them necessarily in the sexual or romantic sense. Platonic obsession? Brotherly obsession? Unhealthy professional overattachment? Here we go!

― Like, I can see Taylor having a sickening crush but also thinking he's doing you a favor if he warns you against nearly every other platoon member that conveniently ain't him; That one's a killer, this one's a liar, that one's just bad news, that one over there is untrustworthy and generally unstable and before you know, it's like nobody's good enough from Chris' particular point of view; he's holier-than-thou in regards of all the men and you and finds fault with just about everyone one way or another, writing it off as him being the only sane man (even though he's clearly losing his sanity by the daily and is keenly aware of it) who's being a friend irregardless of the fact that you're professional and poised and had no intention with anyone outside the realm of fixing up their wounds. Chris doesn't see it that way, of course --- he feels he needs to be your voice of reason and your white knight and hero, all while effectively trying to isolate you from everyone else because none of them's worthy and someone should tell you time and time again. The road to hell's paved with good intentions, and that proverb fits spectacularly for Chris in this situation. He tells himself he's above casually pestering the one female on base because he's nobler and apart from all the grunts regardless how anonymous he strives to be, don't you know, which is precisely and exactly why he wants you quietly eclipsed and by his side. Because he's not an animal. Because you and him are similar in his mind's eyes and should stick together. He idealizes you to abnormal degrees. You're a flawless person on a pedestal. Undoubtedly starts a whole journal outside of his letters purely to put into words how highly he thinks of you.

― O'Neill just flat out hits on you constantly and his attentions seem like they would be sleazy, in your face, non stop, verging on annoyance but also slightly cowardly because he's usually all talk and very little action; meaning that you're flirted with ten times a day but he isn't ever gonna do any more than that because he's ultimately Barnes' brown-nosing lackey --- that's not to say he won't be pestering you during your chores, your duties, while you're actively stitching up someone wounded in combat and Red's, right there, buttering you up with comments and open schmoozing, going as far as getting confrontational if the younger soldiers from the opposing squad try to do the same, being the ultimate hypocrite, instantly burdening them with jobs, disgusting tasks, threats that he'll tell higher ups (higher ups being Barnes) and really anything and everything to get them as far away from you as possible and punish them for even attempt to act like wiseguys; one gets the impression it's not even necessarily himself he wants you for as much as for Barnes' squad and even Barnes himself and it's hard to deduce if he's pining in the romantic sense or solely out of a weirdly misplaced ownership and to peg the other side down a notch. Possibly a mix of both? Suffice to say he reports everything you say, you do, you don't do, who you've talked to, what you said, who you looked at ten seconds longer than you should've back to Bob, acting like the ultimate insider to all your whereabouts. You're probably this man's prime fuel of camp gossip. His favorite topic too. Turns out you have a spy on your tail at the base who doesn't even make a tremendously big effort to hide that he's spying. Might just openly joke about it to you.

― Bunny thinks management's done a hell of a good job sending the platoon a woman because he's convinced that's exactly what base camp lacked and he's disgusting enough to blatantly objectify and dehumanize you, viewing you on the same par as provisions --- the higher ups in the chain of command send them ammo, cans of food, matches, cigarettes, beer and now a woman. Perfect. Life's good. Like what else does a guy really need? Maybe a car. He'd like a car next. A really fast one. Yeah, that's a great idea. This kid's already loved his time in Vietnam before you've ever arrived but now, he just about adores it. He never wants to leave, ever, because why would he? He's got everything he needs right here due to the fact he's absolutely convinced sooner or later you'll put out to everyone, him included, of course. And in the meantime, it's nice just looking at you in your daily habitat, doing your job. Him and Junior might even make bets on it, having a whole elaborate batting order on who's gonna nail it first and how, acting like the nasty kids they are, forging plans on how to ensure Elias' squad is excluded from the figuratively fantastic gangbang. But, in spite of how putrid they generally are (usually among themselves) Bunny limits himself to off putting comments only and the occasional disastrously perverted attempt to start something and nothing more, coming off like a overly attached puppy that won't stop barking up your leg because while awful, he still has a whole platoon of superior's to contend with. Junior? Might just pretend he's hurt so you can tend to him while he acts like he's writhing in pain. There's something almost pathetically hilarious at play here. Hard to know if you wanna laugh or be disgusted.

― Barnes seemingly ignores you all while feeling he's entirely entitled to you in every way humanly possible. Professionally, platonically, sexually, romantically --- god's sake, man probably feels he's entitled to your very soul. And all this while he's completely poker faced, stone cold and apparently disinterested in your comings and goings. You could very well get the impression he deeply dislikes you. He might not even address you personally for the longest time ever (and might just do it through his lackeys) but he's actually got his eyes on you since the moment you set foot here, assessing everything about you down to the smallest minutiae of details. He feels you belong to him where feelings are concerned and to his squad, where professionalisms is in question, meaning that if someone from Elias' squad gets hurt he might just break up you doing your job by ordering you to do something else instead with the greatest airs of urgency ever, going as far as having an outburst of anger (a tactical one) or intimidating you if you refuse, just so Elias' boys wouldn't get any of your help and his do. Only his. He'd effectively eclipse you and separate you from his rivals, securing you as an asset. Somehow, this man's never said more than three words to you since you arrived on base, yet you ended up almost constantly by his side, treating his own squad-mates from miniscule illnesses while Elias's boys might be there dying from actual gunshot wounds. He's weeding out the opposition effectively all while having a hold on you that's covertly matrimonial in the most discreet of ways; Barnes is downright obsessed like the higher ups sent someone he's actually married to back in the world to do this job instead of someone who he's just met here and he would outright kill or eliminate anyone and everyone who'd dare get between him and you, without you even realizing how deeply fixated this man is.

― Wolfe latches unto you because you're the one person around here he can have the upper hand over in ways he can't over fellow soldiers; you're a woman, not a trained marine, not dangerous, you're surrounded by killers and yes, he can present himself as your kindred spirit in a den full of people who aren't like you. But, oh? He's different, you see. He's a college boy, he's more refined, more mellow, he wears a signet ring, he's less rugged than these assholes, he's willing to do non stop favors (as he constantly asks if you need something) and by extension you should rely on him because he's non-threatening Wolfe. It feeds his ego to be around you because he reckons you'll be infinitely easier to impress than fellow men and actual veterans and by extension, your admiration will be easier to harvest too and he likes that. This is more about his own feeling of self worth than anything else, although he absolutely wouldn't mind if in some figurative sense you liked him as opposed to all the other men in this platoon solely based off of the fact he counts and relies on the notion they'll all be too weird, scary or intimidating for your tastes...especially in comparison to him. His compatriots might view him as a wet sock of a Lieutenant but to you? He might actually be very impressive because he reckons you don't know any better. He'd like to have you because he actually does like but also as a 'gotcha!' and a big fuck you to everyone else in the platoon. They don't respect his authority as a Lieutenant and he doesn't have the streak cut out for leadership? Well, fair enough, at least he'll get the girl in the end and they won't. That's what he hopes for. The thought alone gets him mean and prideful and it fills up his head with hot air.

― Rhah could be very apprehensive about a woman's presence, telling his squad-mates an engrossed, impassioned story about how back in the old days sailors on ships always considered a woman on board bad luck --- and since this is a sort of ship, same hierarchy running the whole platoon in theory, with captains, first mates, cabin boys and deck scrubbers galore, he predicts you being here will be nothing but trouble, a conclusion him, and say, King could very well share, although King might be very blunt, cut the bullshit and just (jokingly?) assess the presence of a woman could just turn the men buck wild and he'd be willing to wager anything half of them will end up wanting you or fighting over you one way or another, whether you realize so or not; a notion Rhah might scoff at, reminding the other man of this all being bad mojo considering the amicability levels in the platoon are always oscillating from various shades of tense to various shades of awful. He sees you as a harbinger of doom. An omen of big trouble. Your presence seems like the beginning to a cautionary tale to Vermucci. He might just come and tell you that cautionary tale himself, warning you that your presence here is gonna mess everything up, but being the first one to be vary of you he's just as likely to be among the first to actually warm up to you sincerely, albeit after a bit of tough love, making his fixation a mix of something friendly, almost brotherly and while he was here demonizing you at first he might just end up idealizing you. Man probably names a new concoction of substances after you. Might play music that contain your name in the Underground's bunker during times off and parties. Goes from agitation in regards to you to flat out romanticization.

― Elias is worried sick for you. Day one. Not in a condescending way, far from; man would genuinely have his best interest at heart for you without even knowing you whatsoever or expecting anything in return. That's just how he is. He simply knows how much trouble your own presence here is gonna potentially cause for you if you don't watch out and he simultaneously admires you to no end for it because he knows it takes guts to be here, making that his overall attachment is almost brotherly in nature at first, even though if you blink you might catch something more there but for the most part he comes off as someone fiercely protective of you meaning that if a confrontation between the boys happens at all it's most likely going to happen due to Elias personally sticking up for you and being your knight in shining armor. He can't stand you being catcalled. Leered at. Sneered at. Underestimated. Talked down to. Talked about behind your back. People being gross towards you. He's s generally the reason why his own squad is better behaved than Barnes' who treat you like you downright belong to Barnes, leading to at an increase in tensions between and Bob because if anything, Elias can read the man's intent without it ever being spoken. He can just about catch the way Barnes looks at you. His protectiveness could be sibling-like, could be weirdly paternal, could be plain ol' kindness or could be downright love, either ways, the lines will never be clearly defined by Elias himself because he doesn't want you in that compromising situation while stuck out in the middle of the bush in a camp so far away from everything, genuinely making him the nicest man you'll encounter on base, causing the tensions grow only ever higher by proxy. Elias gains some very dangerous enemies through this, but his attachment to you is such he couldn't be happier.

[yournecessaryevil]

🕯The Shadows Within🕯

🖤 CHRIS CERULLI X READER ONESHOT 🖤

He's always been the unseen force lurking within the shadows, waiting and watching. You've always been the object of his fascination and curiosity, the one human he's found himself returning to time and again...

• fluff; language; light NSFW

☠️ TAGLIST: @krystal-miw-lover

Fear.

It was what drove him, the very thing that fueled his existence among them all, the very essence of what and who he was, to the core.

But you were different.

You had always been different than the rest of them, even as a mere slip of a child. He had known it from the start, perhaps, even if you yourself hadn't known it at the time.

For years, he had sat quietly in the shadows, watching and waiting, some might even go so far as to suggest guarding.

Yes, despite his best efforts, he had found himself becoming a rather constant presence in your life, returning time and again to watch and wait as he always did, so carefully concealed within the shadows, always just out of your line of sight.

He knew better than that.

His kind weren't meant to be seen, not completely. A glimpse here or there, a brief flicker in someone's peripheral, a momentary pause to someone's day... that's all it had ever been, all it was ever meant to be.

Until the day he had slipped up.

He would remember it for the rest of his existence, the way your childish face had gazed upon him, those E/C eyes widening in wonderment, your small rosebud lips curving up into the most endearing of smiles.

It was a look he had never seen in the many centuries he'd been around. And despite his own efforts, he'd quickly found himself becoming rather attached to you, quite literally and figuratively.

He couldn't stay away even if he'd wanted to.

Every little milestone in your life, every stumble, every fall, every tear shed and laugh shared, all of it... he had been there for every moment of it, refusing to stray from your side for even the briefest of seconds.

You had ignited a spark within him that he hadn't been able to fully understand at first, not completely. It was a feeling of warmth, of what you and the rest of your kind so casually referred to as love, it was... it was home.

You had made him feel like he belonged.

It was a rather remarkable thing, really. The very idea that someone- no, something- like him could belong in a world where anything out of the normal confines of society was to be feared?

Oh, that idea had appealed to him more than it should have, more than he wanted it to.

It was one of the main reasons he kept coming back to you, time and time again. You had become a sort of companion of his, something incredibly precious that needed his protection, his very presence, to feel a little less alone in the world.

You had always been the light to his dark.

Which is why he couldn't understand what exactly he was seeing at this very moment.

You had very clearly grown up since the last few times he had seen you, and he would be lying to himself if he didn't think time had treated you rather gracefully.

But there was something off about you tonight.

He could feel it, he could practically taste it, the way it rolled off of you in waves.

You were upset, you were mad, he had never seen you this way before, not like this. Sure, as a child, you had shed a few tears, thrown a few tantrums, the like. But this was different.

He had decided to visit you again, now that you were off on your own in the world, with your own place of residence and your own sense of self. But he had expected to see you thriving, looking as happy and as well as you'd led him to believe, as you'd led everyone else to believe.

The you that he saw now... he didn't like it.

He could smell the salt of your tears, could see them slipping down your cheeks from where he remained hidden within the shadows.

He knew in that moment that if it were possible for his kind to have a heart, such a tangible thing as it was, it would be breaking.

He wanted to reach out and comfort you in some small way, much as he did when you were a child, but a tiny seed of uncertainty had suddenly planted itself within the depths of his mind.

What if he was the last person, the last thing, you'd want to see right now?

Fuck it.

He had to try.

Fuck it. Fuck them, fuck him.

Of all the rotten luck you could have had, the lousiest hand you could have been dealt, today seemed to take the fucking cake. Your morning had started out fine enough, sure. But somewhere around mid-afternoon, everything had gone to shit.

And by the end of the evening, it had gone about as downhill as it could get.

You still couldn't quite understand how things had ended up like this, nor did you care to remember. Right now, you were still far too angry and upset to care all that much.

You were more mad at yourself than anyone else, really.

The events that had transpired today had only proven your own point, had shown you why you rarely let anybody in or get close to you.

Fuck them all, at least you could still depend on yourself, right?

Reaching up to brush away your tears, you heaved a shaky sigh. Maybe tomorrow would be different...

You could only hope.

Right as you were turning to head down the hall of your apartment to your bedroom, something caught your eye, a dark little spot in your peripheral.

It was brief, but you'd recognize it anywhere.

You'd recognize him anywhere.

But it couldn't be; he hadn't visited you for years, not since you had been in your early teens.

The few times he had visited you, it had been brief, and he had always remained as he was since your childhood, nothing more than shadows dancing along the walls, ghosting ever so slightly out of your line of sight.

Still... what if it actually was him...?

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you called out to the dark hallway, addressing whatever it was you'd think you'd seen, with the name you'd given him as a child.

"D-dark?"

The single syllable hung there in the air for a moment, nothing but silence between you and that hallway.

Until you noticed a darker patch of shadow lingering in full view, tucked away at the very back of the corridor.

You stood there in complete silence, not even a breath daring to slip past your lips, your heart thundering nervously within the confines of your ribcage. Your eyes remained fixed on that singular shadow, watching, waiting.

And then it moved.

It was merely an inch or two to the left and a step forward, but you'd seen it.

"Dark?" you called out again.

An answering wisp of a laugh sounded from the shadowy hallway ahead, the noise reminiscent of a thousand ravens taking flight, nothing but feathered whispers and hushed silence lingering behind.

The shadow moved again, but this time, a voice accompanied it, taking you completely by surprise.

"You can see me, then, I take it?"

The timbre was smooth, all velvet and softness, everything that you had grown to associate with Dark since your childhood.

You had never heard him speak to you, never. Not when you were a child, and certainly not in your teens. To hear him talk to you now, it was quite unexpected.

Your own voice hitched slightly as you answered him, your words barely above a whisper.

"I... I can see you."

"But not how you would wish to see me."

His reply was instant, a note of amusement lingering in his voice.

And yet he was right.

You had only ever seen him as shadow and smoke, nothing more than a fading streak in the corners of your vision.

Did he even have a corporeal form?

Another whispering laugh echoed down the hallway, followed by his reply.

"I can assure you I do, in fact, have one."

Shit... had you said it out loud..??

"You need to show more caution with your inner thoughts, Y/N..."

His voice sounded much closer than it had before, and when you focused on the shadow at the end of the hallway, you found it had moved a few inches forward again.

But the longer you watched, the more you noticed there was something different about Dark.

He was becoming less shadow and smoke, and more... human, almost.

But even you knew better.

Still... he appeared more human than anything else, even for his kind.

He stood there concealed within the shadows, head tilted ever so slightly to the side as he stared back at you. Curiosity was displayed in those eyes, eyes that were lined in kohl as dark as his shadow form had been.

Long hair as black as spilled ink hung like a veil about his face, stopping slightly past his shoulders, and the briefest thought flickered to life in the back of your mind, of whether it would indeed be as soft to the touch as it looked.

An amused little smirk turned up the corners of his lips, and it was then you noticed the three little rings that sat there on his bottom lip. Even from here, you could see the dim light reflecting off their surfaces.

Dressed neatly all in black, the whole appearance was very befitting of his namesake, not to mention rather attractive to the eye.

"Is something the matter?"

Another bemused little smirk played at his lips as he spoke, one perfect dark eyebrow raising.

Slowly, you shook your head, unable to find your voice at first. When you did finally manage to speak, your voice trembled again, causing you to stumble over your words a little.

"N-no, I've just... y-you've never shown yourself to me like this before."

As it had been earlier, his reply was instant, thoughtful.

"I can alter it, if you would like...?"

Quickly, you shook your head at him.

"No!"

You had blurted that one word out before you could stop yourself, and Dark gazed at you now with that same look of amusement as before, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile.

"No? So be it," he spoke rather casually, taking one slow step towards you. "But," he continued, taking another step, "should you change your mind, I will appear to you however you wish to see me."

If you were being honest with yourself, you didn't want him to change his appearance. You rather liked the way he chose to show himself to you, all darkness and seduction, but with the same softness you remembered as a child.

Dark's whole outward appearance, combined with the bits of shadow that still clung to him like an aura of sorts... it was all very fitting for him. You found yourself quite unable to look away, something that didn't go unnoticed by him.

That smirk reappeared on his face as he moved a few steps closer to you, until he was within mere inches of you. Up close like this, you could see the light reflecting off his eyes, those pitch black irises seeming to swallow the pupils whole, leaving only darkness in their wake.

Up close like this, Dark was rather... intimidating.

You swallowed nervously as you stared up at him, seeing yourself reflected back at you through those eyes of his. Your heart stuttered once in your chest, and that whispering laugh from before slipped past Dark's lips.

"Y-you heard that?" Your voice came out barely above a murmur, yet still audible to his ears.

"Mm, yes, I did indeed. Why so nervous, sweet Y/N? You're normally so composed when we meet..."

He reached out with one hand then, his fingertips cold as ice, as he brushed away the tear tracks that still remained upon your face from earlier that evening.

And it ignited a spark deep within you.

Something about the way he touched you, it felt... different. There was that same gentleness he had with you in childhood, sure. But now there was the added element of something much darker, sweeter... more enticing.

Your heart fluttered again, and he let out another whispering laugh, leaning down until his face was inches from yours.

"I don't like seeing you so on edge, Y/N... it wounds me."

The way he spoke your name made that tiny spark burn that much brighter, igniting you from the inside out.

Before you could stop yourself, you were leaning towards him, your eyes fixed on his, lips parted slightly as trembling breaths slipped past them.

The corner of his mouth twitched up into the briefest of smirks, and he arched one perfect brow at you.

"You'd be playing a dangerous game, Y/N..."

"Dark-" you started, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

"It's time you learned the name I was given at the moment of my existence, you sweet girl."

You swallowed hard, staring up at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Christopher," he corrected you softly.

"Chris..." you repeated the name back to him, taking note of the way his eyes seemed to grow darker, if possible.

An immeasurable amount of tension hung there between the two of you in that small hallway until he leaned forward, his face inches from yours again.

His words from mere seconds ago suddenly ran through your mind, as you stared up at him.

You'd be playing a dangerous game...

"Is it a game I would win?" you spoke in a whisper, your gaze locked on his, refusing to be the first to look away.

His lips parted ever so slightly, all traces of his former smirk gone, as he slowly nodded.

That was all it took.

Drawing in a sharp breath, you leaned forward, closing the distance between yourself and Chris, your mouth finding his in that dark hallway, the feel and taste of him like ice and honey on your tongue.

His mouth moved urgently against your own, his hands finding yours in the dark, those cold, shadowed fingertips winding their way through yours, the silver of those rings along his bottom lip lightly pressing into you, eliciting the softest, quietest of moans from you both.

"Chris-" you started, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

"No, hush... no words, no talking. I only want you, sweet girl."

One of his hands wound its way through your hair, tugging lightly, earning another whispered moan from you.

With a few well-placed steps, he soon had you backed against one of the hallway walls, one hand in your hair and the other keeping your free hand pinned up by your head, his grip firm on your wrist.

"Sweet girl, we really shouldn't be doing this, you know..." he warned you, in between deep kisses.

You couldn't help the smirk that crept onto your face at that.

"Thought you said no talking?" you teased him. His answering smirk matched your own, a hushed chuckle accompanying it.

"Clever little Y/N," he fired back, before kissing you once more, his teeth finding your bottom lip and tugging lightly.

His name left your mouth in a groan, and as a result, his grip on your wrist tightened, as did the one in your hair. One of his knees pushed between your legs, nudging your thighs apart for him.

"Good girl..." he whispered against your mouth. His words set a spark ablaze within you, the embers burning bright and setting your very soul alight.

Your heart thundered in your chest, and Chris laughed softly before kissing you again, his teeth tugging on that bottom lip once more.

Without even appearing to realize it, another moan left your throat, and you found yourself practically rutting against his thigh, like a cat in heat.

You were so caught up in your own arousal that you hadn't even realized Chris had pulled back to watch you, a smirk resting on those perfect lips of his.

"Well, well... look at you, little Y/N. Not very composed now, are we?"

Your breath left you in soft pants as you stared up at him, taking note of the amused expression on his face. He was rather enjoying this, wasn't he?

"Indeed, but it seems you're having quite the time of it yourself, Y/N."

His reply came instantly, a hint of a laugh concealed within that smooth timbre.

Fuck... you'd spoken aloud again, hadn't you?

Chris was unable to hide his laughter this time, those dark eyes alight with humor.

"I did warn you to be more cautious, did I not?" he laughed.

You let out a soft huff as you stared up at him, before you impulsively stuck your tongue out at him. "You did, yes," you admitted.

Chris nodded, pulling you into a close embrace, holding you tightly to him.

"Ah, come here, sweet girl. Well, it would appear you're in a far better mood now than the one you arrived in..." he murmured against the top of your head.

He was right. You hated it, but he was right. You had been so wrapped up in seeing him again, the real him this time, that you had completely forgotten why you were upset or that you had even been upset in the first place.

But that's what you'd wanted, right?

You'd wanted things to be better, and for a while, no matter how much or how little time had passed, they had indeed been better. You hadn't seen your favorite shadow companion since you'd been in your teens, and while his visit tonight had taken you completely by surprise, it had been most needed.

You relaxed into his embrace, letting your eyes fall closed as you felt Chris place a soft kiss atop your head. "Thank you for tonight... it helped. More than you probably know..." you whispered.

"Of course, always," came his soft reply.

"Should you ever need me or want me," he continued, "I will always be around. Until the day you decide you no longer have want or need of me."

The very thought made your heart ache, all traces of the earlier heat and urgency gone, as you opened your eyes, lifting your head to gaze up at him, a certain sadness now clawing at the edges of your soul.

He stared back at you, a gentle look falling into place across his features.

"You don't want me to go, do you, Y/N?"

There was a certain something in the way he said it, as if it were more a statement than a question.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head.

"N-no. Please. D-don't," you whispered.

"Stay with me," you added, pleading with him.

There was a slight tilt of his head to the side as he gazed down at you, those dark eyes reflecting your own temporary heartache back at you.

"For how long, Y/N?"

Your answer came too quickly, before you could stop it.

"Forever?"

Chris sighed, running one hand through that ink black hair of his, as he stood there contemplating your answer.

"It's not even an option, is it?" you asked, unable to keep from assuming the worst.

He looked rather conflicted, more so with himself than with you if he was being honest. At least a full minute, maybe even longer, passed by before he finally answered you.

"It is, but-"

"Is it my soul, is that it? Do you need it or something, Chris?" you interrupted him before you could stop yourself.

He arched a brow at you, silently admonishing you for the interruption, before offering you a wry smile.

"Shh, let me finish. Besides, you confuse our lore with that of the demons, a creature with which I refuse to share any similarities. Not to mention, supposing you did have it right, I wouldn't steal your soul even if I were able to.

"It's become far too important to me just to be so carelessly snuffed out in such a way," he explained, giving you a soft pat on the head.

Your cheeks flushed with heat at his pretty words and his gentle little gesture. He'd always known quite the right things to say and do when it came to you, even when you were younger.

"It is possible, if that is what you wish. But you deserve a better future than that. You deserve someone and something of real substance, Y/N. Not just the shadows along the walls. What you need, I cannot give you," Chris explained softly.

"But what if what I need, what I want, is you?" you argued.

Chris drew in a sharp breath, something you didn't even think possible for his kind, as he stared down at you with wide eyes.

"Y/N, no... you... you want...? We cannot, you and I-" he stumbled over his words, the syllables all tripping over one another.

"I want you. That's it. Just you," you whispered.

Chris continued to stare at you for a moment, before something in his eyes darkened.

"Fuck it," he swore under his breath.

With that, he closed the distance between the two of you, his mouth finding yours in an instant, kissing you urgently like it might be the last time.

"You're absolutely sure?" he breathed, in between kisses. You nodded, and a low groan rose up from the back of his throat.

"Y/N... if it was possible, you'd be the fucking death of me, you do realize that?"

You had never heard him swear until tonight, and if you were being completely honest, it was the hottest thing you'd ever heard.

You nodded, smirking against his mouth and gently tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, taking extra care of the rings that sat there.

Another groan left him, and he wove one hand through your hair, tugging firmly once, before releasing you and breaking the kiss. "Behave," he admonished you, though a smirk of his own played at the edges of his mouth.

"Now then. If I'm going to stay, why don't you go and change for me, and we can unwind for the rest of the evening," he said softly.

"And do what, exactly?" you teased him.

He arched a brow at you before one dark eye closed in a wink.

"I've got a few ideas, trust me... now go," he answered with a roll of his eyes and a smirk.

You leaned up on your toes to give him one last kiss before retreating past him down the hall, into your bedroom.

Tonight had taken an unexpected turn of events, but it had been a pleasant one. Because at least for one night, and now hopefully, for many more nights to come, everything had felt right... and it would continue to feel right.

He couldn't believe his luck.

He had taken such a huge risk by coming to visit you tonight, and subsequently staying the night, despite the foul mood you'd been in earlier. Or maybe it was because of the foul mood you'd been in.

Either way, you had reminded him of why he so enjoyed seeing your face, hearing your voice.

Speaking of hearing your voice...

A grin found its way onto his face as he gazed down at you now; you had fallen asleep in his arms, the cooking channel you had put on the TV earlier now nothing more than background noise.

You had made the prettiest little noises of your own for him tonight, in that darkened hallway. And the way you'd tasted...

A low groan slipped unbidden from his throat as he continued to watch over you, the memories of tonight replaying in his head. You had been such a good girl for him, so soft and sweet and yet... there had been a heat there that he didn't know he'd wanted, didn't know he'd needed, until tonight.

You were his, and now he was yours. And whatever lay waiting within the shadows for the two of you... well, he knew he'd be able to handle it with you at his side... always.