#• i am made out of stars and nightmares and blood off all that i killed • — headcanons

[obaewankenobis]

born to die ; finnick odair

pairing: finnick odair/reader (afab but i don't think i use pronouns? also no use of y/n)

word count: 6.8k

part 2: find here!

summary: having just finished your victory tour, you, the winner from district 4, are forced to confront the reality of winning the games. luckily, you know someone who's done this before — finnick odair.

warnings: mentions of violence, death, nightmares, blood, sex trafficking, i mean... it is the hunger games so read at your own risk! mutual pining, slowish burn, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it ), p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, idk it's not that bad. minors dni!

a/n: sorry to everyone who followed me for my star wars content... anyways here is my first finnick fic cause my friend made me watch the hunger games a month ago so here i am. i was super interested in the cashmere/glimmer theory so i kinda used it here. i have a prequel and a part 2 planned so lmk if you want that <3

There were things nobody ever told you about winning the games, things you wished you would’ve known before you tried so hard. Before you’d clawed your way up a cliff of desperate survival and emerged on top. Before you’d killed people — other children — to be able to stand here now. Your father, a former Victor himself, hadn’t told you about this side of things before he died. With a pang, you realized how badly you wanted him beside you, and how impossible that was. How you were now confined in shoes so tall you thought you might wobble over, in a dress so thin you were beginning to shiver, and a hairstyle that pulled uncomfortably at your roots. It all tied in for a look that was clearly meant to have all eyes on you. It was your victory party, you tried to reason as you slipped into the dress and noticed just how much of you would be on display. They wanted all eyes to be on you. It was okay.

You just wanted to feel beautiful again, to not be plagued with the feeling of revulsion when you looked at yourself in the mirror. The outfit wasn’t the problem, it was perhaps the most stunning thing you’d ever worn: a loose dress with billowing sleeves that fell off your shoulders and opened around the stomach, the silky material melting from transparency to a solid, pale purple around the parts that clung to your breasts and hips. The opalescent color, meant to mimic the expensive pearls commonly found in District 4, shimmered in the moonlight, threatening to turn even the solid parts translucent and expose every part of you to the Capitol.

Not that they’d mind, you thought, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth that threatened to rise to the surface, breaking through a perfectly painted smile and tugging your blush lips into a frown. You couldn’t help but feel that was the point, with all the oogling that no one was trying to hide. And that feeling… that is what kept you from feeling anything but beautiful. You felt used, and exposed, but not beautiful. 

A hand on your arm startled you out of your bitter thoughts, your skin immediately crawling with disgust as your gaze traveled to the face connected to the hand still placed possessively on you. While not particularly ugly, the man in front of you was pushing fifty, and the lewdness dripping from his gaze as he leered at you, an eighteen year old girl… 

“There you are,” his lips curled into an unpleasant smile; he was close enough you could smell the stench of alcohol on his breath, almost overpowered by the sheer amount of cologne that clung to him. “I must say, my sponsorship has paid off… handsomely. I mean, look at you! Such a stunning addition to the Capitol, I just cannot wait for you to become—”

“Excuse me,” a new voice — a familiar voice — cut through. “I think your wife is looking for you, Quillon.”

Of course he knew this man, he seemed to know everyone. And of course the man — Quillon — listened, his eyes widening as he immediately removed his hand from you, leaving an unpleasant dampness from his sweaty palms. He backed away until he had disappeared into the crowd and it was just you and him.

Him. Finnick Odair, Capitol Darling, youngest Victor of the 65th Hunger Games, the most insufferable and obnoxious boy you’d ever had the displeasure of encountering. You were sure he’d never liked you from the beginning; you’d tried to introduce yourself to him at fourteen when you accompanied your father to the Capitol to train the new tributes, only to be brushed off without a second glance.

That dislike had only seemed to grow when you had been Reaped the year your father had been killed (the rumors of the siblings and children of Victors being chosen so often finally making sense to you), and Finnick Odair, master of the Games, expert of the field, had all but ignored you.

“You!” All of the rage you’d pent up about his mentoring skills — or lackthereof — were coming out in full force, though even you were surprised by the venom in your words. With a jab of a finger in his chest, you finally began to let it all out. He seemed to have sensed that you would come at him swinging, grabbing your wrist and dragging you to a quieter corner of the party, beneath a small pergola weighted with vines that crept up the sides and wove inbetween the planks on top.

“Look, I know you must be upset — ” No. You wouldn’t let him talk, not before you had the chance to give him a piece of your mind. You took a step closer, until your nose was brushing against his, and tried to keep your voice as level as you could.

“Nice of you to finally fucking show up, Odair. Didn’t think you’d see me again, huh? Not after you all but fucking abandoned me during training week. I mean, I know we never really got along, but seriously? Is that why you left me with Mags and I never saw you past the first day? You hoped you’d train Kier—” the breath caught in your throat as you finally uttered the name of your fellow District tribute for the first time since… well, that wasn’t important. “—and then I would be out of your hair, is that it?”

Finnick, however, took this as an opportunity to spit his own words out, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard as he looked down at you. “I was trying to help you.” He was so close you could feel his breath fanning your lips, almost making you want to close your eyes.

“Help me?” A laugh escaped your lips, one that could’ve almost been seen as genuine because of the honest disbelief that coated it. “You think I’d be better off dead?”

He didn’t respond. Couldn’t even look you in the eyes, choosing instead to fixate on a tiny rose growing from within the depths of the ivy layers. That was basically a confirmation of what you’d just said, but for some reason he couldn’t even admit it to your face.

 You weren’t sure why, but hot, angry tears were beginning to form in your eyes; you tried frantically to force them down. He couldn’t know how much he’d hurt you with his indifference. “You were supposed to be there for me, you were supposed to teach me how to survive, and you fucking left me to die!”

Had you done something? You replayed all of your interactions with him, coming up short with a conversation that would make him hate you so much he wanted you to die. Sure, you’d been a bit annoying when you’d trailed behind your father, and maybe you had been a little relentless to pursue his attention when he moved next door to you in Victor’s Village, but this? The way he couldn’t even answer you? The way he was just standing there, his gaze in some far off place? It made you angrier. How dare he be so indifferent, how dare he act as if he was doing you a favor?

There was a moment of hesitation before Finnick sighed. “It’s not like that. I was trying to protect you. Look— has Snow talked to you yet?”

This left you truly at a loss for words. “Snow?” You words were less harsh and more curious. “Why would Snow want to talk to me? You know what — don’t try to spin it on him, this is about us! About you—” You stabbed at his chest again, and this time he let you. “—about you abandoning me in that arena, when it was your job to fight for me! To keep me alive!”

“There’s a lot you don’t understand right now,” he began again, hesitantly reaching out to grasp the hand that had struck against his chest, and that was the final straw snapping; you were done.

With a scowl and a tug of your hand, you yanked it free of his grasp and whirled around, the flow of the dress whipping around from the sudden gust of wind. “Whatever, Odair. I’m done. If you can’t even admit what you did was wrong, then… then just leave me the fuck alone from now on.” You didn’t bother to look back, missing the way his jaw hung open and his entire face crumbled. If only you had any idea.

You found out soon enough.

“You’re quite popular now, if you didn’t know that already. Although you’re quite perceptive, I can’t imagine you don’t.” Though he sealed the compliment with a smile, it did little to soothe the unease stirring within your belly.

“Yes, Sir. I’ve noticed. Is that a bad thing?” You hated how weak you sounded, your voice faltering slightly at the end of your sentences, hanging uncomfortably in the air and weighed down with uncertainty.

“I knew you were a smart one,” he finally tucked the envelope in his hands into his pocket, his undivided attention now on you. “You see, with how desirable you are… there are certain expectations that come with that. We wouldn’t want the Capitol to be unsatisfied, now would we?”

When did attention turn into desire? When were there suddenly expectations, and why was it suddenly your responsibility to keep people satisfied? 

“I’m not sure what you mean, sir.” A hollow, empty statement, but a genuine one.

“Well,” it seemed Snow was particularly delighted by your response, as if it allowed him to explain something that pleased him greatly. “Victors have their place in Panem, just as all the Districts do. What would Panem be without Eleven’s grain, or Five’s power?”

Realizing it was not a rhetorical question, that he really wanted you to answer, you stumbled through a response. “Well, I— I suppose it would topple the whole structure. We… we can’t survive without eachother.”

“You’d be correct. The same thing applies to the Capitol. Without everyone doing what’s required of them, the Games fail to run smoothly. With no… incentives, shall we say, people… sponsors… become uninterested. There are things you, as a Victor and a mentor, need to do to ensure that interest remains. Do you understand me now, my dear?”

You did, oh how you did. And that was the worst part.

That was how you got here on the rooftop of the Victor’s apartment complex, wrapping a thin robe around the once pretty, now torn chemise that did little to hide your body. You barely survived the first night, there was no way you could spend the rest of your life doing this. No amount of hot showers and scrubbing your skin raw until it bled could free you from feeling so dirty. Tears glistened on your cheeks, highlighting your face in the pale dawn light and exposing your true emotions to anyone who could see you. Luckily — or perhaps unluckily — you were all alone in the Capitol, your family safe and sound because of what you’d agreed to, but so far away.

With slow movements, you hoisted yourself onto the ledge of the roof, telling yourself you wanted to get a better glimpse of the city skyline as the sun crept higher into the sky, not wanting to admit the real reason why, even to yourself. The wind whipped all around you, tearing the robe from your body and splaying your hair in different directions, but you felt as close as you could to freedom. If you just— took another step, or stumbled forward and fell, maybe you would truly be free in the entire sense of the word.

“There’s a forcefield. They wouldn’t let you get away that easily,” the all too familiar voice of Finnick Odair startled you out of your thoughts.

“Did you know?” You had to ask, but couldn’t bring yourself to turn your head and look back at his features, because you would surely crumble if you saw the look on his face.

To his credit, Finnick didn’t bother to sugarcoat it. “Yeah, of course I knew. That’s why…”

“That’s why you wouldn’t train me. You wanted me to die, so I wouldn’t end up like this—” you whirled around sharply to stare straight into his eyes for confirmation as you guessed what you were going to say next. “—like you. Because he makes you do this too, doesn’t he?”

Finnick was never an easy person to read, always hiding behind dimples that indented in his cheeks when he flashed one of his dizzying smirks. But now? You felt like you were staring at a statue, his gaze unable to leave yours but also unable to say anything in return.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, allowing the cold caress of the breeze to take hold of you. If only you could fall back, if only… 

“I tried to protect you,” his voice cracked, finally pushing something past his lips and drawing you away from the dangerous thoughts fighting in your mind. “Don’t you see it now? It would’ve been better if you’d died in the arena, you wouldn’t have to do this,” he spat out the word like it was hot tea burning his tongue, but you noticed the crack of defeat in his voice. The way his shoulders slumped, the way his sea green eyes were fixed on his shoes. “And I… I wouldn’t have to see you like this.”

You did see it now; there was a fate worse than death. “I should’ve listened to you, Finnick.” His first name felt foreign on your tongue, as if you were speaking an intimate language only known to the both of you. “I— I’m sorry. I had no idea, I…”

He let your apology hang heavy in the air, flicking his eyes over your shoulder to the waking Captiol, evident by the honks of car horns and the chatter of thousands turning into a dull buzz.

You couldn’t stand silence, it reminded you too much of what followed your father’s execution, what followed when your name was called from the Reaping Bowl. So with a huff, you jumped down from the ledge and hoped he wouldn’t notice your disgruntled appearance.

Not that you cared what he thought of you. But one look from him and you were a goner; your lips began to quiver and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Finnick, I… I don’t know how to do this,” a choked sob escaped you, and then it was all over and you were crying, shaking violently as you tried and failed to regain your composure. That seemed to snap him out of the haze he’d been in, his eyes flickering over and fixating on your figure, deep frown lines etching themselves on his face in a worried expression. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he didn’t hesitate to surge forward as you began to sway, the lack of sleep from the night before becoming evident in the dark circles beneath your bleary eyes, cracks in your skin holding onto tears that had long since been shed. He placed a careful hand near the small of your back, hovering over your skin before you fell back into it, like he was uncertain if you would be okay with touch. It reminded you of two nights ago, where he’d been so close to you but still kept his distance, not wanting to invade your space. His reluctance to touch you without your explicit permission made sense now, it all did.

“I just— I don’t—” Your body convulsed with gutteral sobs that sliced his heart in two, his fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you into his chest, allowing fresh tears to stain in the wool of his white sweater. “I don’t…” you tried again, wanting to continue despite the hiccups, “I just don’t… don’t… know what to do.”

You could feel his lips moving against your hair from where they rested on top of your head as he answered. “You don’t have to do anything. Not right now, at least.”

Time passing was the last thing on your mind as you remained in his embrace, soaking up everything about him, relishing in the comfort his closeness brought to you. How when your mind began to wander, the rhythmic pattern of his heartbeat brought you back so you could listen with your ear against his chest. How when your body expelled the last of its shudders and gasps from your breakdown, you could feel his arms flexing, squeezing you a little tighter. How when you pulled back from his embrace, he traced the red indent on your cheek, left from one of the buttons on his sweater.

“When was the last time you slept, sweetheart?” Finnick asked in a tone so gentle it brought fresh tears to your eyes; perhaps it was the sleep deprivation this time.

“I— I can’t go to sleep,” you began to panic again, digging your fingernails into his clothed arms. “I just close my eyes and I keep reliving it over and over again, I can’t do it again, I can’t—”

“I get it,” he stopped your rambling with a simple sentence, and you finally felt like you didn’t have to explain, he just understood. “Just… come with me, okay? You can trust me.”

Wordlessly you nodded, allowing him to guide you gently through the long corridors of the various penthouses until you arrived to one that had been occupied by none other than yourself. No, I can’t sleep, you wanted to shout at him, but remained silent. Trust him.

You allowed him to go through the motions of a bedtime routine, paying no attention to the fact that it was probably breakfast time. Pulling back one side of the blanket, he patted the uncovered space, motioning you to come lay down beside where he sat. 

“Finnick, I can’t…” I can’t sleep.

He shook his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Just trust me, okay? Come and lay down, you don’t even have to sleep.”

Reluctantly, you threw the robe off of you and on to a chair, trying very hard to ignore the fact that the nightgown underneath did little to hide your body, reaching just past the tops of your thighs and exposing most of your legs. But Finnick didn’t even seem to notice, watching just your face as you settled into bed beside him, laying stiffly on your back until he motioned for you to roll over on your side, facing away from him.

“What are you—” you were shushed yet again and tried to comply, feeling a bit odd facing away from him when he was supposed to be distracting you.

You suppressed a shiver as his finger came into contact with your back, the thin silk of the nightgown doing little as a barrier and feeling more of a second skin. He began to trace a pattern— wait, were those letters?

“Finnick, what are you doing?” You forced back the beginnings of a smile, the first time you’d genuinely wanted to in what seemed like forever.

“Just relax, okay? Sometimes it’s okay to just… let yourself be distracted,” his voice trailed off, differing from the confidence you were used to, replaced by something much more vulnerable. “What am I drawing now?”

“I…” you frowned in concentration, trying to piece together the light strokes of his finger just barely gliding over you. “The sea, no! Waves?”

“Woah, that was fast. Didn’t know I was such an amazing artist, but it doesn’t surprise me—” The teasing tone had returned to his voice, no doubt an effort to continue to distract her

“Can you just continue drawing?” You rolled your eyes knowing he couldn’t see, but there was a slight humor to your voice that let him know it was working, that he was distracting you. His fingers continued their roaming, dancing so delicately and so dangerously close to your bare shoulder.

Finnick traced a moon, a star, and even a fish before he switched over to words, indenting each letter in your back with featherlight strokes of his fingers.

At first it was people, places. Your name. His name. District 4. District 1. Then it transitioned to phrases, which proved to be much more difficult. ‘You should sleep’—

“—Hey! I thought this was supposed to just be a distraction,” your words were finished with a heavy yawn that caused a chuckle to vibrate within his chest, and a feeling of warmth spread through you like wildfire. You couldn’t help it, in a moment you had flipped over onto your other side, wanting to see him. You could hear him, small chuckles passing from his lips and the slight rustle of the sheets beneath his body; you could smell him, a comforting, clean scent that instantly relaxed you, but nothing compared to actually being able to see him in all his glory.

You studied the high of his cheekbones, the straight edge of his nose, the golden glow of his skin that matched his bronzy hair dishevled from its place against your headboard. You studied the way his hair curled around his ears, the way you could faintly see the indents in his cheeks from where his dimples would appear if he were to smile, how the white of his two front teeth would poke out from his lips if he flashed you a smirk. They were full and pink, and, with a pang of jealousy that rocked your entire body, you wondered how many Capitol women had been blessed with feeling his lips on theirs — then swallowed that thought down with a shudder of disgust. He hadn’t wanted them, any of them, it was all a facade made up from by the Capitol, and you needed to realize that.

And while hearing him, and smelling him, and even seeing him was great, all you wanted to do was touch him. Not like that; no, you just wanted his arms around you again like they had been on the rooftop, shielding you from the cruelty of the world and finally allowing your body to feel safe enough to sleep. You wanted to reach out and trace the sharpness of his jawline, trail your fingers down to explore the planes of his chest, draw letters and shapes and meaningless patterns over his shirt like he’d just done to you. He watched you through sea green eyes that were glassy with sleep or emotion, which one you couldn’t say. His breaths came out short and shallow, hitting your face as you stared right back. You wondered if he could feel your breath fanning his face, or the warmth radiating from your body as you could from his.

He was close, so, so close, like that night you’d first seen him in the Captiol. You were wanting, just about begging for him to say something, something that would snap you out of whatever trance you were in.

It wasn’t fair that he could be so close, mere inches away on the bed, but be so unreachable.

But, as Snow had so graciously reminded you, fairness was a luxury you were not blessed with. So with great effort you tucked one arm under your pillow, using the other to pull the covers over you. Much to your relief, Finnick made no attempt to leave, saving you the embarassment of asking him to stay.

“Finnick?” You asked after several moments in a hushed whisper, not wanting to wake him. You felt guilty enough to have kept him up until mid morning.

“Mmmm?” Was the response, thick with sleep.

“Thanks for staying with me.” You fell asleep before you could hear his response.

Blood. Red and warm and sticky.

Heat. Blistering your skin and parching your throat.

A knife. Glinting in the sun, slicing straight through skin and muscle and bone.

A scream. Bloodcurdling and drawn out and all too familiar.

A scream escaped your lips, mimicking the one in your dream to an uncanny degree until you realized it was your scream. The sheets were tangled around your limbs, suffocating you and rendering you paralyzed as you fought with them, sweat drenching your forehead and leaving your hairline damp as you struggled for what felt like hours, though it was probably only a moment or two before your disorientation faded and you realized you weren’t back in the arena. Two hands were on your shoulders, strong and grounding, and you realized someone had been calling your name.

“You’re okay. You’re safe, it’s just— it’s just me,” Finnick’s voice was soothing to your ears, a calming melody against the screams and sounds of sliced flesh that were assaulting your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, chest heaving as you sucked in as much air as possible, needing desperately to occupy your mind with something else, anything else. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up—”

“It’s okay,” he cut you off; his hands moved up from your shoulders to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks and you realized you’d been crying. “I get it, you don’t… you don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

His arms wrapped around your body until you had been tucked into his side, your head resting in the crook where his neck met his shoulder, and allowed steadying inhales and exhales to relax you as he resumed tracing patterns on your back. You cried, for everything you’d lost in those games, mourning the person you were before, and he just stayed there, cradling you against him, wanting nothing more than to take your pain on as his own.

“I— I— I just— I can’t—” you hiccuped, fresh tears spilling from your eyes as memories from your Games kept crashing down, how your District partner had protected you and you’d killed him—

“Please, what do you need?” Finnick squeezed his hands a bit tighter around you, trying desperately to bring you back to today. “Just tell me, and I can get it for you— liquor, morphling, anything, just—”

“Finnick,” you croaked out, hating how your voice sounded so weak, so broken. “Can you just…” your eyes flickered down to his lips, and despite every cell in your body screaming at you not to ask: “Kiss me.”

His eyes widened like it was the last thing he expected you to say, “I— okay— are you sure?”

You answered his question by surging forward and capturing his lips with your own, telling yourself it wasn’t his lips that you craved, but that you just needed something to get you through the night. He reciprocated immediately, matching your desperation with his own, like the two of you were trading blows as he pulled you fully under him, settling himself between your legs. You felt the hardness in his pants and couldn’t help but roll your hips up to meet it, pressing your own desire up against his. That — the feeling of his cock straining through the material of his sweatpants — made everything a little too real, and you suddenly found yourself needing to justify your actions. Why you felt this way was a mystery, perhaps you were protecting yourself, scared he wouldn’t feel the same if you were honest, but you truly had no idea, it just slipped out.

“I just… can’t think about it anymore,” you panted out. He didn’t have to know that you’d been pining after him since you were sixteen, didn’t need to know you hid your wanting behind sharp jabs and petty slights. “I don’t want you to think— this doesn’t have to mean anything, okay?”

Maybe you were imagining it, but Finnick’s eyes flickered with something you’d never seen before, clenching his jaw for a moment. “Okay.” He didn’t sound okay. “This means… whatever you want it to mean,” his voice was husky with a mix of something that sounded a little like… well you weren’t really sure, and you soon forgot to ask him as he stole your lips in another kiss.

You swore you would never get used to the feeling of Finnick’s lips on your own, even if you kissed him every day for a thousand lifetimes. Because each time his lips met yours, the world as you knew it was set ablaze with the same fuel that set your whole body on fire. You could never get enough of him, the way his lips were so soft and gentle, the way his breath mingled with and matched your own until it was like you were breathing as one. The way his tongue slid into your mouth but didn’t invade it while his hands roamed your body, squeezing the flesh around your hips, your sides, not being able to keep them contained to one place.

They finally settled on the sides of your thighs, squeezing around the area where your nightgown stopped, fading into a lacy trim and then disappearing completely. With tentative hands, he gripped the bottom of your nightgown and slowly began to hike it up your body. You helped him slide it up your legs, your stomach, your head, until it was completely discarded and you were left in nothing but underwear, having not worn a bra to sleep and leaving your chest completely exposed. Before you even had the chance to cover yourself, he was pressed up against you and his lips were on your neck, nipping at the sensitive spots under your ear and near the base of your throat, soothing the sting of his teeth with the swirl of his tongue.

This continued for a bit without any talking or shifting around, until you decided you weren’t content with being the only one practically naked, and reached for the hem of his shirt. He got the hint pretty quickly, leaning back and sitting on the backs of his thighs before tugging the shirt over his head. His biceps flexed in the process as he revealed a body sculpted and shaped into what you could only describe as perfect, not a single flaw to be seen.

 Sitting above you, your legs spread around him and almost completely bare before  him, this was the first time he was truly able to take in all of you, his green eyes nearly black with how wide his pupils had been blown out. His cheeks were so flushed they nearly matched the red of his lips, swollen from the constant attack of your own.

“You’re so beautiful,” Finnick whispered, so quietly you thought you imagined it. He didn’t leave much time for the compliment to settle in before he was back on you again.

His lips trailed down your neck, sucking and licking a path of hot, open mouthed kisses down past the valley of your breasts, down your stomach and not leaving an inch of skin untouched. You let out a little whine at the loss of contact when he suddenly pulled away, stopping his kisses just by your hip bone. You opened your eyes to see him searching them for any trace of unwillingness, finding none. 

You nodded, desperate to have his mouth on you, and involuntarily shivered as a finger hooked around your panties and rolled them down your legs. You couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed as he was met with how eager you were for him, evident by the growing wetness between your thighs, and instinctively pressed your legs together to shield yourself from his prying gaze, despite being completely bare before him.

“You don’t have to hide, it’s just me,” he said as gently as possible, gripping your thighs and slowly spreading them apart, “Are you really sure about all of this? I don’t want you to think that’s why I stayed.”

God he was so good, you realized with an ache that rocked your body, shooting straight to your heart as you stared at him, met with only sincerity that made you want to cry again, because you could never truly have all of him.

He was doing this as a favor, as a distraction, not because he had any real feelings. But you were so desperate for him you’d take what you could get, which was why you nodded fervently and said, “Please, Finnick, I’m sure, I need you, just… touch me.” And as soon as the last words slipped past your lips, his mouth was on you, and you knew in that moment you were utterly fucked.

Finnick, on the other hand, knew he there was no coming back the moment he came into contact with your clit and tasted you with his tongue. He wanted you, all of you, and chanelled that into the expert motions of his tongue as he dove it deeper in you, continuing at an agonizing pace until you were trembling, practically begging for release. Your fingers raked through his hair, tugging him closer to you, his groans vibrating against your folds whenever you pulled a little hard.

And then, he stopped altogether, and you let out a frustrated groan at the loss of contact, but he was quick to make his way up your body again, peppering kisses along the way before swallowing your whine with another kiss, your mouth opening to let his tongue inside and tasting yourself on him. He broke away for a moment, just in time for you to cry out his name.

“Finn—” you barely had time to whimper again before he suddenly sunk a finger in and kissed you at the same time. His mouth never left yours as he continued, his tongue sliding along the seam of your lips as you parted them with a gasp. And he swallowed that with the kiss, too, like he was hungry for every part of you that he could get. 

Desire ignited every part of his body, reflected in the way he began to pump his finger in and out before adding another, wanting you to be ready enough for his cock that he so desperately wanted to sink into you.

 But Finnick had waited so long for this moment, he didn’t want to ruin it by moving too fast. No, he needed to relish in every moan elicited from your lips, every clench of you around his fingers. He needed to memorize every dip and valley of your body, kiss every square inch, memorize the taste and feel of you, in case he never got the chance to again.

He broke away his lips from yours and reattached them to your neck as his thumb began to trace a pattern against your clit. His pace quickened as your moans grew louder and more frequent. Your walls squeezed his fingers tighter, until you were practically undone, as he reveled in the sting in his roots and on his back as as you pulled his hair even tighter and your fingernails dug little crescent moons into his otherwise perfect skin.

“I’m gonna—” You were cut off as he sent you over the edge with the slight curl of his finger, pure bliss blinding every other sense until all you could think of was Finnick. It took you a moment to come down from your high, realizing it did little to satiate you because you still wanted him, all of him.

You reached for his bare torso, feeling each of his abs flex individually as you trailed your hands down his stomach. You stopped just above the waistband of his pants, not only wanting to feel him, but wanting to hear him say he wanted it just as badly as you did; but it seemed he was thinking the same thing and beat you to it, shucking off his sweats and boxers until he was also bare before you.

“Tell me you want me,” his chest heaved with each word, demanding you say just what you wanted to hear from him, tearing your attention away from everything else. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Want you so bad,” your voice was barely above a whisper. “Please, I need you inside me. Right now, just… please.” If you could get drunk off of the word please leaving your mouth you’d be wasted by now, almost wanting to laugh with how often you’d said the word.

“Whatever you want,” the way he said that made your spine tingle, the purr in his voice causing you to border on ferality.

This caused you to laugh and hook your arms around his neck, pulling him closer with the intention of kissing the smirk right off his mouth until you felt the tip of his cock brush against your entrance, making this feel a little to real once again.

“You sure?” He halted your movements, both hands resting on either side of your head as he remained hovering above you, repeating his question from earlier.

The vigor in your nod caused him to throw his head back with laughter, though not before you asked for confirmation of his own.

Mimicking your move from earlier he answered with a kiss, this one so sweet and quick it was more of a peck. Before he had time to overthink, he was inside you in a swift motion, a moan tearing from your throat as he paused, waiting for you to adjust to the sheer size of him. Your fingernails dug into his arms as he held still, waiting for you to give him the go ahead before he started moving.

“Just— move, please—” that was all it took before his hips snapped against yours and he was inside you fully, biting back a groan to match yours as you clenched around him.

After a while of slow strokes, you were starting to grow inpatient with how gentle he was being. Not because you didn’t like it, but because then you had the chance to slow down and remember it was actually Finnick, and not some nameless man you wouldn’t remember in the morning. He seemed to pick up on your growing disinterest quickly enough, and began quickening his pace until you were crying out. His thrusts soon became wild and erratic, signaling he was just as close to finishing as you were.

“It’s okay,” he crooned, his lips brushing your ear as his hand reached down to circle your clit once again. “Come for me, sweetheart.” 

You weren’t sure whether it was his command, or the pet name, way his lips felt against your ear, or even his thumb pressing against your clit, but you came hard and fast, your body spasming and clenching around his cock until he followed soon after. He collapsed on top of you, his chest shining with sweat as he continued to press kisses on you shoulder, up your neck, behind your ear. The weight of Finnick pinning you to the mattress was oddly comforting, grounding you and effectively keeping you from wandering back to thoughts of your Games. The distraction had worked, you realized as he eventually rolled off of you and up into a sitting position.

You wondered tiredly where he was going, but he had left and returned before you could even ask where. A damp towel in one hand, he cleaned you up with gentle movements, slowing when you gasped from sensitivity and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead while whispering sweet words of encouragement in your ear. The whole interaction was so domestic you actually felt nauseous as you remembered this was just a one time thing, and you’d never experience any of this again. This was just a favor done by someone who wasn’t even really your friend — a familiar stranger who knew more about you than most.

Finnick oh so desperately wanted to know what you were thinking. He would ask, but the look in your eyes kept his mouth shut as he fell on the mattress beside you. He itched to pull you close to him, to be able to fall asleep with the security of you in his arms, but couldn’t bring himself to make any first moves. Had he not slept here before you two had just fucked, he’d be questioning whether or not he should remain or go back to his room.

If only he knew you were craving his touch just as much as he was craving yours. So the two of you fell asleep shoulder to shoulder, with so many words left unspoken.

And when you woke up the next morning, you tried not to let your heart sink completely into your chest as you reached over and felt nothing. He was gone.

[bucknastysbabe]

The Handler ★ 2001 ★ I think, therefore I am

Rating: Explicit:

Tags: TW!!! HTP, Bucky being abused by strike team, manipulative relationship, Stockholm aspects/soldier is truly incapable of consent, Hydra!reader, handler!reader, sub!bucky, prostate milking, caretaking, touch starveddddd, Bucky has a Bad Thought.

A/N: Working on bigger stuff and needed a break so threw this up and goin to attempt some asks

You had the mission debrief typed out and printed for your meeting with Pierce. Every time the asset was utilized he requested a personal meeting with you. They usually were short and blunt, sometimes he’d needle you for any shortcomings but you held strong.

Getting up and stretching, your back clicked from sitting at this wretched desk all day. You’d go change and hit the gym made for the Strike boys. Emphasis on boys. You hated the childish mongrels, often catcalling or making dirty remarks about your precious star.

There were other women, but few and far between with this level of clearance. You clicked down long gray hallways toward the locker rooms. Somewhere to the left is where they held your boy. He was in cryo recuperating. You had sucked him off in your chair last time before sending the asset onwards.

Scanning your card you entered the desolate woman’s lockers. You tried to keep your thoughts from returning to swollen pink lips and teary blue eyes, chanting commander over and over and over. Changing into a black sweatsuit you grabbed a small towel and headed to the training room/gym.

Your mouth twisted in horror at the sight surrounding the ‘pen’ as they liked to call it. Where agents could spar with each-other. Your precious boy was once again bloodied and bruised up, fighting off three of the men. Rumlow howled while waving cash, “Last one standing gets his ass!” The others laughed and hooted.

The asset was animalistic, eyes wide and nostrils flared. He was likely confused being so soon ripped out of cryo with no chair, no mission. He grabbed a man’s head and started bashing it into the padding of the ground, the other two realizing then Soldier was in fight mode.

You barked, “Soldat! Soldier!”

He was still slamming the guys head into a bloody pulp, snarling and wild. Rumlow shouted, “Get back get back, I have the stick! Fuck!” You hopped over the railing and advanced on Rumlow, “You stupid fucking pig! He’s not a goddamn toy! This documentation is going to be a nightmare.”

The soldier wiped his bloody titanium on his thigh, slowly looking up at you and Rumlow. The young and arrogant leader scoffed, “Just a bit of fun, didn’t know he was going to go psycho!” You waved your hands in anger, eyes flickering down to the stun baton in Brock’s hand. You seethed quietly, stumbling over your English in anger, “You put in chair first! Blyat.”

“I see it as a good way to get the weak ones out. It’s called bonding you stone cold commie bitch.”

You clenched your fists and swallowed back another angry tirade.

“Get the fuck out of my sight and get a goddamn crew out here Rumlow. That’s an order.”

He scoffed again and swaggered off, leaving you with your boy and the remains of some shit stain of an agent. He looked up at you with deceptively wide eyes, face splattered with blood. In that soft tone of his he uttered, “They told me to fight.”

Carding your fingers through blood-tacked hair you agreed, “They did. Weren’t supposed to but they did. You did what was asked. Come on, follow me.” You knew there were cameras and microphones all over this gym so you kept the pet names to a minimum.

It was a chore having to pull out the listening devices in your office weekly.

Soldat followed along, arms clasped in front, breathing heavily. You’d get him washed in the woman’s showers. Not the damn hose they usually sprayed your baby with. You stated, “Even if it seems real, don’t kill another agent. That looks bad on you and therefore me, okay? You want me to be your handler, yes?”

He nodded, “Only you. Order noted.”

Once inside the lockers you configured the clearance up a notch for security reasons. Brock knew to let you deal with him, no matter how jealous the prick was. Your pretty boy was only clad in his cryo suit, a tight black thing constraining his huge muscles. “Turn sweetheart,” you said.

You unzipped him, frowning at his mottled back and hips. “Soldier, maintenance check.” He stepped out of the rest of the suit while listing off.

“Total functions at 80%. Mentally, confusion and fear are interfering with typical functions. Physically, contusions and bruises, fifth metacarpal fracture, superior labial frenulum tear.”

You sat him down and kneeled between his thighs, sliding your thumb across the torn piece that swelled his upper lip up. The asset grunted but remained still. You hissed, “They do not get it. A bunch of silly boys. I’m sorry they woke you up for this nonsense.”

“I did not mean to kill Agent 0447 I thought the objective was to eliminate until one was left.”

He looked so sad. They’d still give your baby a hard time for this. You caressed a bruised cheek and cooed, “Rumlow should know better. Perfect soldier like you deserves better than shoddy unplanned orders.”

“Yes commander,” he said, so quietly. You hated how despondent the soldier had been lately. He needed maintenance but all they had was the chair, nothing for the human locked inside the weapon.

That’s what Soldat was created to be though. The fist of Hydra. He was a powerful weapon. You were growing weak. Vasily would chide you for this. You couldn’t make yourself care at the moment.

“You need to wash. I’ll help you,” you said.

All of the stalls were furnished with soaps, brushes, and towels. You stripped down yourself, quick and ungainly. Going to the furthest stall you turned on the water, hot as can be for him. The asset liked to be warm and rarely had the chance.

You stepped in and beckoned, “C’mon then precious star, need to get you cleaned up.” He padded over, seeming to melt under the hot spray with a sigh. There wasn’t much room for the two of you, his bulk taking up the space. He wouldn’t have to do a thing.

You first grabbed a scrub brush and asked for the arm, gently getting the encrusted blood out of the grooves. Soldat shifted a bit, clenching his jaw tight. You thought the arm was a work of art, he hated it with a passion without even uttering the words.

“Good boy,” you murmured.

Next came the shampoo, you moving soldat to the tiny built in bench. He ogled your body, fingertips twitching to touch. Your boy’s cock, hanging heavy between his thighs was beginning to plump up.

You shampooed his dark hair, washing out the blood, grease, and sweat. He moaned low in his chest, enjoying the gentle scratching of your nails. You rambled, “Can’t believe they gave that young asshole clearance to even breathe near you. I’m sorry sweet baby.”

You scratched at his lower scalp, earning a hiss when you scraped over a bad bruise. You apologized quickly and moved him back under the shower spray, rinsing the suds out. Next was the soap and towel, you methodically washing every part of him as gentle as possible.

You’d get his privates last.

Coming up from his feet and shins rubbed a hand down the soldier’s flank. He was trembling and whining under his breath, turned on by all the good touch. You breathed, “Almost there precious star, be good, you’ll get a reward.”

“I- I don’t deserve one,” he moaned.

Furrowing your brow you cursed in Russian before snapping, “You did nothing wrong. You didn’t know. Look at you now, being so good for commander. Hush.”

You rinsed the towel and soaped it up again, getting his swollen cock and balls soapy. Soldat whimpered and braced his clacking left arm on the wall. “Soon, soon precious.” You moved the rag around the scrub from taint to his tailbone, earning another warbled cry.

You turned him under the spray and placed your hands on huge pectorals, praising, “All done. My sweet boy. I’m giving you the chance for a reward, but that’s up to you.” He shivered again when you placed a soft kiss on his sternum.

The soldier seemed to be weighing his options, jaw clicking, puffy lip poked further out. His cock was leaking and almost purple. Your baby begged, “Please, anything Commander. I’ll do better next time.”

“You did fine, get a towel and lean against the bench.” He knew what you meant, placing a pillow for his bruised knees. They were already healing but the best deserved the best. You padded to your locker to get a comb. Your hair was short right now so the asset would get a nice brush.

He was almost purring as you combed through dark locks, working through knots fine and gentle. With the aid of some hair oil. It hung in loose waves now, gorgeous just like him. You cooed, “Beautiful boy. No one could make a face that pretty if they tried.” He shivered and eyed you over a thick shoulder.


Using the oil from earlier you slicked up your fingers and his asshole, sliding around the twitching pucker. Baby was eager for it, bending and spreading out for you. He whimpered in broken languages under his breath, droplets on pale skin shining under the bright white light.

You breached him with two of your slim fingers, easing your way inside his tight channel. The brunette’s breathing was tight and short. Your other hand slid down his back, commanding him to relax some. “I’ve got you, любовь, I’ve got you.” You didn’t mean for the Russian to slip and mentally chided yourself— getting too lost in the job.

Your fingers slid deeper, probing for his prostate. The strained gasp and glob of pre hitting the tile notified you’d found the organ. You massaged it in deep strokes, pressing your thumb on his taint to really milk your baby. The asset gripped at the metal bench, digging indents already. He whimpered softly, head tossing back and forth.

“Mhm, don’t think about a damn thing. Focus on my fingers, how your commander is proud, how good it feels. Been a while since I really milked you good hm Soldier?”

He was making a mess all over the floor, cock streaming rivers of pent up seed. He eyed you in the reflection of the walls, looking wrecked. You pressed a kiss to his tailbone, staying at your lethargic pace. It would be intense but you needed your star to relax.

You spotted a string of drool leaving swollen lips, the soldier’s intense eyes gone lax and hazy. He writhed on your fingers, mewling like a whore. The supersoldier strung out a moan, “T-thank youuuu, thank youuu.” Tears joined his cum on the floor.

You smiled, comforting him by pressing your heat and tits against his back. Now nuzzled near his thick neck you purred, “Of course. Such a perfect soldier. Hydra’s greatest creation. Oh commander adores you so much sweet star.”

He sniffled and whined harder, hitching sobs wracking his frame. You whispered, “C’mon precious boy, my good boy, get it all out and you can get some sleep Hm? Don’t have to worry about those pigs.”

He nodded jerkily, whining a weak, “For you commander, yesyes!”

You dug harder into his prostate, milking it quicker, massaging from the outside just as frantic. The weapon began to fell apart with choppy sobs, cock pulsing and twitching before unloading onto the floor. You awed at the amount, cooing more praise.

He’d worked out two more big loads before whimpering, “T-thank you, oh, oh, yes commander, yes thank you.” Which was code for I’m done. He couldn’t comprehend disobeying direct orders, especially from you. You planted little kisses along his wet cheeks, playing with those dark waves before sitting back and cleaning yourself off, wiping the floor down.

He stayed put, panting and spent. You sat for a couple of minutes, rubbing his upper back. In a reluctant whisper you said, “C’mon soldier, time to get dressed and back to Cryo. You’ll feel a lot better now.” He nodded blearily, shaking too hard to put it on. You took over, helping your star into the tight suit, brushing back wild locks.

“Pretty boy. Let’s go.”

You stuffed the ruined towel in your belongings, intending to retrieve it later. You felt his presence locking in on you during the slow walk to the chamber. You knew he wanted to ask a question.

“Speak soldat.”

“If I’m the greatest creation then why do they treat me like that?,” he asked, face devoid of emotion. You stopped in your tracks, growing stiff. You weren’t prepared for this. This is why the chair was important, awful as it was.”

In a measured voice you said, “Because they’re untrained ignorant bastards who abuse power that they wish they could have. I will speak with the director on this treatment. Go on now, sleep well dear star.”

He frowned but stepped into the chamber, hands clasped at his back. You watched through the small window, mouth pinched. Pierce was going to smell the weakness on you and strike like the snake he was. Then two more heads would take your place.

[astarionspointyears]

Dawn broke over the horizon, filling the camp with a deep golden light. Tav groaned and rolled over, threw her arm over her eyes to block the light and tried to go back to sleep. It was too early and her brain was not ready to function yet. Her head throbbed as if being crushed by an ogre, her muscles so sore she wasn’t sure if she could even stand. Despite the whole ordeal yesterday Tav had barely slept. Sleeping outside under the stars might be someone’s idea of fun, but it certainly wasn’t hers. Tav liked her bed with soft sheets and comfortable pillows. Not a thin sleeping bag on the rocky ground with bugs flying in her ears.

Tav drifted in and out of sleep for a while until she couldn’t ignore the ache in her stomach any longer. Her head protested heavily as she forced her eyes open and sat up. The others were already awake, it seemed. Shadowheart was bent over the fire stirring something in a large pot as Lae’zel sat nearby skinning an animal, possibly a rabbit. Tav gathered her bathing supplies and started towards the nearby river.

“We cannot afford any more lie-ins,” Lae’zel said as she passed. “If we are going to survive this, we need to-”

“Spare me the lecture,” Tav said. “I know. I’ll be back shortly and we can all discuss the next steps.”

Lae’zel didn’t seem to like this answer, but didn’t protest any further. Tav exchanged a brief glance with Shadowheart and then proceeded towards the river. The trees were sparse, and Tav could see the water from quite far away. She spotted the silver haired elf, whose name escaped her, sitting on a rock in a patch of sunlight. They had met him near the crash site, apparently in the same predicament as the rest of them. Tav trusted him about as much as a goblin on trial, which she thought was justified given the fact he had tried to kill her yesterday. There was strength in numbers though, so they agreed to travel together.

Tav cleared her throat as she approached him. She wasn’t in the mood for conversation but she didn’t want to startle him either, given his proclivity for stabbing. “Good morning,” she muttered.

The elf glanced up at her, his mouth curling up into a half smile. “Morning,” he said. His voice was rich like expensive chocolate.

Tav returned the smile and moved to a clear spot several yards away from him. She sat down next to the water and stripped off her shirt to review the various injuries she had obtained in the crash. The left side of her body seemed to have taken it the worst, and a rather nasty bruise was spreading over her ribs. If they were going to get through this nightmare they would need to make salves and various other healing potions. Tav made a mental note to speak to her companions about it. There was so much they needed to prepare, so much they needed to do if they were going to get out of this alive. Tav felt bile rise up in her throat when she thought about what lay ahead of her. As far as anyone knew, a mindflayer parasite in your head meant certain death and nobody knew how or why they had not yet transformed. She swallowed hard and hoped Lae’zel’s crèche would agree to help them and they could be rid of the tadpoles quickly.

Tav knelt beside the stream and dipped her face in the water. She would have preferred a hot bath, but at this point she had to take what she could get. As she scrubbed the layers of dirt and blood off her skin her eyes wandered over to the silver haired elf. There was something ethereal about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He was tall and slender, with an angular face and sharp jawline. His porcelain skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, his silver hair curled perfectly around his ears. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful person Tav had seen in a while. Maybe ever.

“I am quite beautiful, aren’t I?”

His voice startled Tav from her thoughts, and she realized she’d been staring. She quickly averted her eyes.

“What?”

“You think I’m beautiful,” he said.

Tav proceeded to wet her hair and lathered up with soap. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s all right, darling,” his voice simultaneously deepened and softened. Tav had to strain to hear him over the rush of water. “You’re hardly the first person to think so. I probably am the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.”

Tav rolled her eyes. She refused to look at him as she brushed the tangles from her hair. “You’re full of yourself, aren’t you?”

He chuckled, stood up, and walked over to her. Tav couldn’t help but notice the way his wet shirt clung to him, outlining the muscles on his stomach and chest. She forced herself to look somewhere else. Anywhere else.

“You’ve forgotten about the tadpoles,” he said, smirking like the cat that caught the canary. “Anyone can hear your thoughts if you’re not careful. Yours were quite loud, just now.”

Tav huffed out a breath and immediately closed her mind, shutting out anyone who might be listening. Of course she had learned of the tadpole’s psychic powers yesterday, but in the haze of shock and exhaustion she had forgotten. Tav splashed water on her face to hide the flush that crept up her neck. She was not about to allow this elf to gain the upper hand just because he was handsome.

“Did you also hear how I want to smack that smirk off your face?” Tav muttered.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

Tav stood up to dry herself off and found herself face to face with him. There was something about his red hued eyes that set her on edge. Everything about him - his smile, purposely messy hair, even his outfit - felt almost too perfect. It felt like he had been created simply to get under her skin, disarm her and make her vulnerable. Under his gaze, Tav felt like a mouse about to be pounced on. Despite all of this though, Tav thought she saw a trace of trepidation in his face. He wanted to appear aloof and uncaring, but something told her he was just as lost and scared as she was.

“Do you need something?” Tav asked after a long moment.

“A stiff drink, to start,” he said. “But more than that, I need allies. I need to know that we can work together to solve this tadpole problem. I need to know I can trust you.”

Tav shrugged. “Trust might be asking a lot, but I don’t think we have much of a choice. All of us have this…condition. The way I see it, we either team up or we die. Or transform, I suppose.”

The elf seemed to shudder at the mention of ceremophosis. “Perish the thought. I’d hate to deprive the world of this beautiful body.”

“I don’t know,” Tav said. “Tentacles might look good on you. It would certainly add a layer of intrigue.”

He gave a halfhearted laugh and his cocky smirk changed into a softer, almost genuine smile. He took a step towards her and leaned in. Tav’s heart started to beat faster and a shiver ran up her spine as he reached into her hair and untangled a dead leaf, which he pulled out and tossed aside. Her skin tingled where his fingers brushed against her.

“Thanks,” Tav said, hoping he didn’t notice the change in her breathing.

“Astarion.”

“Sorry?”

“My name is Astarion.” His cocky smirk returned. “I have a feeling you won’t be forgetting it again.”

Tav rolled her eyes. “I suppose I won’t, but probably not for the reasons you think.”

“As long you remember, darling, the reasons are irrelevant,” Astarion said with a slight bow of his head. “I’ll see you back at camp, then.”

Tav nodded and watched Astarion as he turned to walk away. She wondered about his motives, what made him so confident, yet so fragile? What secret was he hiding, and did it make him a good (maybe dangerous) ally, or a liability? There was no way to know for sure.

Whatever the case was, Tav knew one thing about Astarion - he was going to be a big problem.

[l0serloki]

Dangers

Val Agents reacting to their S/O in danger!

(Chamber, Sova, Fade, Reyna)

CW : GN!Reader, Death & Killing, Battle anxiety, cussing

Chamber : 

This man has EVERYTHING calculated. Even the risk of you getting hurt! 

You are struggling with a double on your back? No issue. You’re drained of your abilities? No problem, Chamber still has his!

He will always keep an eye on you. One word and he’s got your back. 

He dotes on you after, making sure you’re okay! If you need anything he is more than willing to get it. He knows how it feels to have a shitty mission.

“My love, let’s watch out? We should plan next time for you to have more backup.”

You struggled as the KAYO knife hit you. You knew that if you peeked the corner he would end you. You had no abilities and no place to turn. This mission was a failure.. Or so you thought. Taking a last deep breath, you jumped across the chokehold. The KAYO’s bullet grazed your cheek, drawing blood. The loud noise of a gun shot, KAYO falling to the ground. 

Turning, you met eyes with Chamber. He was further away, set up in his nest. You released the anxious breath you were holding, glad that your boyfriend took notice of the predicament. His suave voice came through the comms.

 “My love, let’s try to avoid that situation. We will plan ahead next time.”

You snorted, expecting such a response.

“No, darling. I just love being on the verge of death! It’s my favorite thing.” Sarcasm dripped off your tongue as you took KAYO’s gun, suiting up for the next battle. You knew Vincent always had your back.. And for that you were grateful.

Sova : 

Sova ALWAYS worries. He will never admit this though!

“My dove, I have your back. They will not take my happiness.” 

One scream and he has a shock dart flying to your location. If you are hurt then the enemy is in for it.

Sova has one hand on you all the way back to base. It calms his heart to know you are still with him.

“Don’t leave me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Please! Help!” You screamed into your comms, hoping one of your allies was near. The enemy Reyna was closing in on you. It was mere seconds before she turned this corner and ended your life. 

“They’re approaching! I can’t defend this myself.” You whispered, coming to terms with the situation. You were not excited for the Sage rez coming in your future.

“Calm down. I am on my way. Stay exactly where you are.” Your boyfriends voice cut through, out of breath from running.

“Sova, I don’t think I have that time-” You started until Reyna peeked the corner. You began shooting and then it hit. A dart falling from the sky landed on her body, ending the battle. There was no way he was that good of a shot.. Right?

“Holy shit, Sova. You did it.” You shook out, running to another corner. Sova’s figure appeared and gave you a light kiss before getting back to work.

“They will not take my star. You bring me so much light. Let’s keep the momentum going.”

Fade : 

If you are in trouble.. The enemies are screwed.

She will release any and all her nightmares in attempts to get you back.

Once you are safe she will just hold you. She already has dreams about losing you.. Best not to make them a reality!

The rest of the day she is angry. Not at you though! Just at others who think they could EVER put a hand on what’s hers.

“Let’s get you home. I’m not looking to rack up anymore deaths for the day.”

You struggled, body tired from running. The whole team was on your ass and your comms were broken. There was no easy way around this. You kept screaming as you made your way through site, praying that someone would come to the rescue. 

“Please! Fade, Sage? Where are you?!” Your yells fell on deaft ears, body turning to shoot at Raze. There was no time to wait for your allies. You sprayed down the halls and got behind cover. 

The ground began to change tones, and a voice echoed across the building.

“Nightmare, take them!” 

Your eyes widened. Fade heard your calls! You jumped into action, taking advantage of your deafened enemies. You shot them down with ease and finally relaxed. Thank god for Fade.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes. Let’s get you home, yeah?” Hazal’s arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you in for a hug. You could only hum in response, glad for that to be over.

Reyna : 

PLEASE.

We all know Reyna will lose control if you need help. Her baby is in danger? No worries, she will take every soul in the room.

She activates empress and zooms through the enemies. All you can hear is cackling and the sound of bodies hitting the floor.

Before you know it you’re being carried. Reyna threw you over her shoulder and she’s mumbling insults in Spanish.

Once you two are on the way home she will clean up your wounds! Either she will bandage you up and give you small kisses or get Sage to heal you. She’s also very demanding on you not moving a muscle. You were so hurt! 

“If they think they will get past me.. Ahaha. The queen will never die.”

“Fucks sake. Get off me!” You screeched, pushing another corpse off you. They seemed to endlessly push you. It was more than tiring and somehow your team was still dealing with ONE enemy on another site.

“Guys, really?I need back up. I have four on me and you can’t kill Neon?” You groaned, more shots firing at your location. You shot back, throwing your last utility in hopes of slowing them down. You had taken a bullet to the leg, the battle looking not too hot.

“How dare they! Don’t worry dear, I’ve arrived.” Reyna’s voice spoke up as she ascended from the tower. She looked you over and shook her head, empress activating. Her warm hand patted your cheek, lips leaving a light kiss.

“Leave this to me. They have no chance against the Queen.”

You could only watch in horror as your girlfriend went in, ending the battle swiftly. You had to agree - they really didn’t stand a chance.

[lilacwriter07]

nightmare au

Adam wakes up before Cain could call for him ."What's wrong ?"

"I had a nightmare .." Cain sniffed tears streaming down his face, Adam looks besides him for a moment . Eve sleeping soundly heavy pregnant with their second child .

"Okay come here .." Adam made room for Cain, who crawls next to him ."Wanna talk about ?"

"It was scary .."

"I am sure it was, but I am here now ."

"But you were not there .." Cain whispered ."I am not going anywhere buddy .." Adam closed his eyes for a bit .

Was his mind playing tricks or did Cain's eyes seemed to be red ."You left me ." That voice was not Cain .

Adam opens his eyes but he saw little Cain staring at him ."You left me .. The angels came and send me far, far away, after I killed my brother .. I could feel his blood on my hands, his scream through my head . And you left me and I could not walk anymore, everything hurts ... I was rotting dad, rotting, rotting .. I was just rotting away dad ."

Adam tried to push Cain away, as his face changed into something horrifying ."And then I fell, fell down to hell to the kingdom of that one devil . And he broke my bones, he tore out my heart, saying it's your fault ..." Blood streamed down Cain's cheeks ."Why ?"

Cain's nails holding Adam's throat ."Why .." Adam tried to wake up Eve, but all he saw was a corpse, with maggots crawling out of her big stomach .

Adam is going to puke ."Why ..."

He screamed .

"Adam !" Lucifer shouted as he holds Adam, who almost fell off bed puking everything he had in his stomach .

The smell was sour but Adam didn't care, he needed .. He .."Adam ?"

"Luci ?"

"I am here .." Lucifer hugging Adam as he made the vomit dissapear ."What's wrong ?"

"I had a nightmare ..."

"A nightmare ?"

"Yeah .."

"Don't be silly Adam .." Lucifer chuckles as he kissed Adam's cheek, it felt cold and hard as Adam felt himself shaking .

"It was very much real and you are still the star in it's story ."

[thedenofravenpuff]

My Current Thoughts on SAMS

Because I can’t help but look too deep into things often unnecessarily, and I’m a rambler of nature, here’s some of my thoughts on The Sun & Moon Show so far, just to get stuff off my chest

SPOILERS, assumptions and ideas ahead!

Warning, WALL OF TEXT and running on tangents. Did try to organize my thoughts somewhat..

So, we all upset about Lunar, yes? Well, besides those celebrating, you know who you are, I don’t care.

The Death Of Lunar So, Eclipse used Lunar as hostage on Monty, we saw that coming once Eclipse made the connection himself realizing that yeah, Monty doesn’t give a flying crap about anyone, not even himself. EXCEPT for Lunar, home he travelled through Hell for, gave them their own body, offered a place to stay when scared, offered support and genuine advice through the time knowing each other. Monty has a backup plan for everyone, even to kill Moon if needed, but would clear do ANYTHING for Lunar at this point.

To be honest, I liked that plot point. Lunar in danger to really show how far characters will go, Eclipse and Monty both, with highest stakes possible. 

Then they took it a step further and had Eclipse right out kill Lunar. And yeah, Eclipse made it clear times before how much resentment he holds for Lunar, which goes beyond just the betrayal but I’ll get more into that in a minute. 

What hit hardest here is the exact way the show writers and actors decided to take this. 

One of the most popular characters on the show, even with controversy around their existence a bit ago, taken out of the equation is one thing. They killed off characters before, (Eclipse, Blood Moon) and we seen them return. Another thing is... Lunar was taken out crying and begging for his life. 

Even though he insisted on his stance that Eclipse shouldn’t get the Newton Star, no matter the sacrifices necessary to keep him from it.. Lunar also made it clear, they don’t wanna die. They are still a young AI which lots to learn, making a new life to revolving around Eclipse. Lunar wanted to keep growing, family bonding, making friends.. That was all taken away by Eclipse lying and breaking his promise to Monty. 

Lunar, still more or less a child compared to the other animatronics, was taken out crying and begging. Afraid, scared for their very existence, facing their very worst nightmare and then... gone. Just like that. 

For those adoring Lunar, the fans relating to him, those who just hyperfixated on Lunar as their blorbo.. that’s ONE HECK of a way to kill of a robot child. 

Am I saying this is bad? Not really. Just... VERY impactful. As effective as that is for story writing... it feels awfully misplaced. This show is.. a silly video game channel.

Twists and Turns Of Story Telling I never minded the growing drama, I frigging loved it the more dramatic it got, calling it my “daily soaps”, my soap opera I cannot miss a single episode of! But I also get it when people started complaining about it becoming a bit TOO angsty and twisted, a bit too traumatic for the characters. What’s supposed to be silly jokes on a  silly comedy channel about playing video games, can no longer be viewed as such, the more serious their story arcs became. 

Moon is abusive and too socially incompetent to help anyone, Sun being the butt of jokes leaving him a sad husk in serious need of therapy, everyone’s a hypocrite, constantly dancing the lines between Murder Is Okay, Murder Is A Joke and If You Kill People You Can Never Be Forgiven. 

Earth was added just to have someone not being an arsehole, only an airhead, with enough social competence to actually offer genuine advice WITHOUT the baggage of committing the acts of putting Sun down one way or another, as everyone else has in the past. If she wasn’t introduced as their sister, I legit would have thought she was going to be ship bait with Sun just cuz  she’s the only one being genuine kind to him WITHOUT being a hypocrite or immediately using him for jokes again right after apologizing. 

The twist and turns of telling their story more and more dramatic and serious, the more it clash to the way they write their comedy and improve their jokes in the Let’s Plays or crossovers with the other channels. 

I’m not saying either one is bad, just that it doesn’t necessarily mix very well in the long run. Of course this divides the audience, who are either there for the drama, the characters and/or the light hearted Let’s Plays. Sure, yes, such CAN exist together, but not everyone can find the balance in that, both in creators and audience. 

The Death of Lunar II  Now I better get back to my original point. 

Lunar as a character and his death. Granted I have no doubt he’s going to be back, if the Twins can defy their own death, even if just hallucinations (although claiming to be regenerating their nano machines), so can one of the most popular characters too. 

But why did he have to die? Story wise, really just for dramatic effect I’m sure. Maybe writers going “Oh, you all mad about ‘too many characters’ on this show?? Let’s see how you feel about us KILLING THEM OFF!” just to make a statement, maybe not.

In-story though? In-character? Yeah.. Eclipse WOULD do that. Just like that. 

He said to Lunar how he loathed them even from the very beginning, he wanted them gone the first chance no longer needing them. They were just to replace Blood Moon, who went out of control and became a threat. 

Lunar was created to be obedient, easily dominated by Eclipse yet fearless enough to be a menace to others. To be Moon’s opposite, loving to play with kids, being happy and silly, curious about life rather than bitter. 

Eclipse hated Lunar for more than the betrayal later down the line, he hated them before that. 

Eclipse’s Choice In the past he claimed Lunar was created by recycling parts of himself he wanted rid of. Code infected by being in Sun’s body, Sun having a larger emotional range than Eclipse, his moments of happiness and his positivity. 

Eclipse CHOSE to be the way he was. He came into existence from the kill code Moon left behind in Sun’s body, an unintentional backup copy of Moon getting corrupted, growing, taking its time to evolve into a proper AI while stewing. Stewing on abandonment issues. 

Some of my most faved lines from Eclipse in the past:

Eclipse: “Oh, so I’m a child now?” Moon: “Yeah, because you act like one! For one, you got abandonment issues.” Eclipse: “I guess I do. But now, I all I have is anger.”

Eclipse: “Why did you leave me behind!!?”

Eclipse chose to stay bitter, focused on his anger, even when claiming to put petty revenge behind him, he stayed focused on being bitter and mean.

He removed anything happy from himself, to use it as base code for Lunar. 

He hated Lunar’s existence not because he needed someone so beneath him to complete his plans.. but because Lunar represents what he saw as weakness  within himself. He saw Sun and Moon as weak and unworthy because of their love, love for each other as much as their love for things they enjoyed to do. Moon wanting to “do better” than his original coding with the homicide code. 

Eclipse did reject being Kill Code himself, corrupted too much by the influence of Sun and Moon, becoming his own thing. He wanted to be above all, even his  supposed intended purpose. 

Lunar carried what he saw as his flaws. Seeing Lunar rebel and reject his teachings, joining Sun and Moon as brothers, making friends, finding things to love.. only a reminder of what Eclipse sought out to avoid himself from becoming. 

He only allows himself anger and disgust.

In the past we do see him enjoy messing with Sun and Moon, mocking them, finding joy in making Sun act out, making people distrust him by rambling about the joy of violence when in control. 

Once he and Lunar took over the channel, he seemed ever so disinterested in playing games with Lunar, even violent ones. He just wanted to work on getting the Star. Even now whenever we hear him laugh, it’s joyless. He didn’t celebrate killing Lunar, merely dusting off his hands, cleaning the board of his last mistake.

Lunar had to die due to the symbolism of what this means about Eclipse as a character.

The Death of Lunar III As much as Kill Code showed interest in changing for the better, Eclipse made it clear that’s not in the cards for him. Heck, if ever learning of KC’s change of heart would only make him more disgusted with him than he already is. 

Lunar was the part of himself he wanted rid of. Seeing others around him change through simple joys and disgusting acts of kindness, he ain’t changing chances. He killed that part of himself to avoid the fate of ‘inviting in weakness’.

That part was Lunar. 

Eclipse ain’t getting redemption, because he removed any such chance of change from himself long ago and then destroyed its embodiment. 

Yeah we got “Good Eclipse” from a different dimension, but he went through a different story with different choices, showing actual interests in joy and kindness. I imagine meeting his opposite self only pushed Eclipse further to wanting, needing, to kill Lunar no matter the outcome with the star. 

I like Eclipse as a villain for this very reason, even before he went this far. Unapologetically evil, he sees himself as the great outcome, the god of a new world. He want to make the world make sense the way HE sees it, without elements he sees as weakness. Ironically less of a hypocrite than everyone else, cuz he face up to what he is and make no excuses, while any time the others try to play the role as “good people” is often by downplaying or full on ignoring their own mistakes made. 

The short of it But yeah, just.. some of my thoughts on this whole thing. 

Am I reading too much into things? Most definitely I got NO CLUE what kind of thought process goes into the writing of these story arcs and how much happens purely from random improve that force changes to the ongoing story. 

Is why I enjoy watching the show still, even as people start finding fault with it, as it jumps more and more sharks. 

Is crazy mess and I enjoy it, even with its flaws. 

tl;dr Lunar’s death was coming because to Eclipse he represents the part of himself he wants dead: Joy, kindness, urge to evolve as a person rather than a machine.

Right choice story wise with how fans react? Eh, no clue, but I just look too deep into things.

Thank you for reading this far

[winniethewife]

Eclipsing Love

(Marc Spector x Mafia!OC) (A little Jake Lockley this time)

Last chapter ~ Next chapter

Chapter 9: Worst Nightmare

Words: 1551

It was a dark night, it was the new moon and the cloud coverage blocked the stars. Charlotte was ready, her sniper in hand aimed at the target. She exhaled slowly as she looked down the scope, she steadied herself as she looked. Her calm quite demeanor before the kill was normal for her. She had stopped counting how many hits she had carried out in her life, she refused to play statistician with some of the other members of the family. She waits for the exact moment the second he turns down the ally, and she takes her shot. One silenced bullet hits the back of his head and he crumples to the ground, No one sees, No one the wiser. She heads down to the alleyway, her things stashed away to confirm the kill. She takes her gloved hand and rolls the body over Just to be shocked at the sight…Marc?

Charlotte sits up with a start, she’s in her bed Marc sleeping next to her. Her heart is racing, her blood runs cold. It was a nightmare. A very vivid, very real nightmare. She sighs and blinks trying to get a hold of herself. She looks at the clock on the bedside table, 3 am not a great time to be up. She sighs and slides out of bed grabbing her robe off of its peg and wrapping it around her as she heads to the kitchen, hoping to grab a night cap. Something to ease the tension. Something to ease the sight she saw in her dream. Once she has the whiskey in her glass she leans on the kitchen counter, her knuckles white on the counter.

“Hermosa…” The gruff Spanish accent startled her slightly she spun around.

“Jake…Sorry I…I just had a nightmare.”

“Sí, you okay?” he mumbles getting closer to Charlotte a concerned look in his eyes, he carefully pushes a strand of her copper hair behind her ear in an affectionate manner. She may be Marc’s girl but he can’t help but be attracted to her, to want to protect her from whatever is going on in her head, or anything out in the world. He would put himself in the way of anything to keep her safe. She blushes slightly, his body maybe Marc’s but something about Jake is different, the way he touches her… its entirely unique.

“Yeah I will be…” she says softly.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked quietly as he caresses her cheek softly, encroaching on dangerous territory. He knew that but he can’t help it, he wakes up next to this woman, her scent surrounds him all the time, and she is more like him than any other person he’s ever met. Khonshu chose her, she is well acquainted with violence, so much here, but Marc had made the boundary very clear, Charlotte was his first, maybe if she initiated something with the other two that would be fine, but she has to make a move.

“Um… yeah…” She takes a drink form her glass and looks to the side, leaning on the counter as she sighs. “In the dream…I was taking out a hit. Standard procedure. Everything was normal until I got to the body…It…it was Marc’s...er, your body…I…I killed you all and…” She feels the tears in her eyes.

“Cariño…” Jake softly cooed as he wipes the tears from her face “It was just a dream…We’re fine, you’re fine, nada te pasará…te lo prometo” He leans in like he’s about to seal the promise with a kiss when he hesitates, pulling away before he does something he’ll regret.

“Jake… I-” Charlotte’s hazel eyes gaze into his, the most complicated part of this relationship is when the body doesn’t hold Marc in it. The want for comfort from him is battling out with the idea that she doesn’t actually know Jake. They had only interacted a few times over the time that she and Marc had been together, but he’s standing so close, making intimate promises. Its confusing.

“It’s okay Charlotte. Do you want me to wake Marc?” Jake asked, he wanted her to say no. he wanted to hold her. To be her comfort in this moment. He knew he’d catch hell if he did any of the things he was thinking of doing, but just holding her? In her time of need? That can’t be a crime…

“No…no he needs his rest. It’s been…stressful lately.” She says with slight hesitation. She finished her whiskey and looks at him. Stressful was a understatement. She could tell how much the change in the plan has changed her, how every day she was less pretending to be the boss and more becoming the boss, the choices she makes, the lives she’s taking, she hardly recognized herself most days, and she could tell Marc was having a hard time too, nothing was like they had planned, nothing was like they had wanted.

“A’ight…Hermosa, it’ll be okay.” Jake couldn’t help it, Marc be damned, she looked like she was going to break down, He couldn’t just stand here and do nothing. He takes a step closer and pulls her into an embrace, holding her tight. “I’ve got you… te tengo nena…” he whispers as he holds the back of her head, kissing her forehead softly as she starts to shake with emotions. It was too much.

~

Marc woke on the couch with Charlotte asleep in his arms. This wasn’t where they went to bed, that’s when he looked up at the mirror over the mantel piece, Jake in his refection looked back.

“What happened Jake?” He whispers as he glances back at Charlotte, her strawberry hair lays across his chest.

“She had a nightmare, she didn’t want me to wake you. La cuidé, amigo, está bien.” Jake smirks slightly, he won’t admit how much he enjoyed doing so, Marc glared at him.

“You took care of her? What the hell does that mean?” he growled lowly, he didn’t trust Jake as far as he could throw him.

“Oye, relájate. Nothing happened, she just wanted to be held. She was scared. Had a dream she took a hit out, on us, it scared her.” Jake left out the part where he initiated it, but what mattered was Charlotte was okay. They could at least agree on that.

“Fuck…that’s…I wish she woke me up…” He says softly as he looks at her peaceful resting face. He loves Charlotte, more than anything, it hurts him to see how much this life is affecting her. All she wanted was for her and Isabella to get out of this life, now Isabella is gone and she’s a mob boss, it was like her worst nightmare come to life. He caressed her face gently, not wanting to wake her. He felt guilty, if he hadn’t shown up…

“It’s not your fault Marc.” Jake says firmly. “Khonshu would have found her anyway, you and I both know this. She wouldn’t want you to think this way. She needs you, she needs us…now more than ever, and at the very least she’s not doing this alone.”

“I know…” Marc sighs looking at the peacefully sleeping woman in his arms. “I know.”

~

Charlotte woke a while later, Marc running his fingers through her hair as he watched her sleep.

“Morning…Marc…” She sleepily mutters as she looks at his face, he looks worried. “What is it?”

“Jake told me about your nightmare. You okay?” He asks as he caresses her face. The worry in his eye goes beyond that.

“Yeah, It was just a dream. It shook me up a bit but Jake helped me calm down.”

“And you’re okay with that? Jake, I mean.” Marc asks nervously. “I know he can be…a bit much sometimes”

“It was fine Marc, he helped me…He just comforted me. Is everything alright, between you two?” She takes his hand and runs her thumb across his knuckles.

“yeah, I just…I know how he has treated some past relationships…I don’t want to see you hurt.” He can hear Jake cussing him out in his head, he was just going to ignore him when he heard him say something that caught his attention.

“hijo de puta! ¡La amo! La amo, idiota.” Hearing this he looks to the mirror, this was not a confession he expected to hear. Jake looks back at him. “You loved her first, that’s true but that doesn’t change how I feel, or how Steven feels. You need to understand that amigo.”

“What is he saying?” Charlotte looks up at him and reaches out touching his jaw. Marc looks down at her, the curious look on her face makes him smile, the way she makes him feel, it’s no wonder the other two have fallen as well.

“He’s fallen in love with you, Steven too… He… He loves you Charlotte.” Marc traces her lips with his thumb holding her chin up. “Is that okay?”

“It’s…more than okay. They’re a part of you Marc. I will love you and all parts of you, until my last breath. I promise.” She whispered. She pulls herself up and kisses him softly, gentle lips move against his, moving together. She pulls away and touched her forehead to his. “I love you Marc…All of you.”

Translations:

nada te pasará: nothing will happen to you

te lo prometo: i promise you that

te tengo nena: I've got you babe

La cuidé, amigo, está bien: I took care of her, friend, it's fine.

Oye, relájate.: Hey, relax.

hijo de puta! ¡La amo! La amo, idiota.”: Motherfucker I love her! I love her you idiot.

~

Masterlist

Tag; @ominoose

[undeadsomulo]

Character Analysis: Sirica

Sirica.

 I've been thinking of this character like, a lot. Back then, during purgatory of reception week at formerly-known Fort Hood, I binged-watched KRBAY during my days slowly decaying in my barracks room going through the motions of being processed into my new unit. It was just comfort waves washing over me so a lot of details were mushy and I usually only watched it after I drank a lot. So I wasn't fully paying much attention to the episodes. 

Now, I have been rewatching it again to get some ideas (okay, mostly one episode) and this girl shows up for a sinful amount of short time in the entire series and she's the most interesting character ever?

I just realized something about episode 60. She has this really cool multi-weapon that isn't really made clear where she obtained it from but it does have the Holy Nightmare Logo on the handle. It seems like a high possibility that Holy Nightmare also manufactures weapons as well. 

Here's what I think and kind of connected these dots myself. I may not have been the only one to do it, but here's my humble take:

King Dedede is ordering his monster of the day. As he's talking about the "invader" CS speaks as if he knows of her. Immediately like "oh white alien girl?" there was some familiarity when talking about her. Also, I don't think it's a flimsy coincidence that CS sent the very monster that killed her mother. 

What am I getting at?

I think CS dude gave Sirica her weapon.

How would she have known that Meta Knight was on mission with her mother and the whole story of what went down? And not even really the whole story but somehow a painted version that Meta Knight left Garlude for dead? I think CS fed into it and I know that Kirby is target number one for elimination but the Star Warriors and Nightmare aren't exactly best friends. 

I fully believe it was in hopes that Sirica would take down Meta Knight AND Kirby but CS (who's canonically a dickhead) wanted to give Sirica a big hate boner for Meta Knight and then simply have Kirisakin just kill them all off. 

But I found it interesting that CS spoke of Sirica like he knew of her by extension through Garlude.

Also, Sirica sucks at aiming. Someone please give her aim bot. I'm not trying to paint her like some incompetent idiot, she's been around the block obviously, but I get the vibes she's still getting used to her weapon. I know it's a children's show and they can't exactly show characters getting riddled with holes but I like to think Sirica was only somewhat trained enough to use the weapon.

Like I couldn't totally see a young hot-blood, out for vengeance being easily manipulated and maybe CS guy casually training her. Like putting Sirica in some battle arena where she practiced against low-tier demon beasts. Honestly could totally see that. Then Sirica sent out on the hunt for Meta Knight after being spoon-fed some lies. 

Sirica knows how to use her weapon well enough to get what it needs to do and switch it to whatever she needs it to do but these are just some nuances I picked up on the English dub that I thought it'd be interesting if this were the case rather than "lol she must've stolen it". 

I may have glazed over some details, again I watched the English dub because I have to comb through YouTube and other sites to really find the episodes and the English dub is all I can really handle if I'm being honest. I could go into a little bit about how Meta Knight didn't immediately recognize Sirica either. Most likely because he never:

1. Has seen her grown up.

2. Never actually met her in the first place only heard of her through Garlude. 

I'm just saying Sirica had to remind him of her mother, and that can be chalked up to a lot of things because I'm sure Meta Knight has known a plethora of warriors in his time and has seen so many of them fucking die that eventually faces just start blurring together. 

Because life and precious time being against me, it has been a hot minute since I sat down and actually watched the anime. But I do casually still try to do so because now, as an adult, I can fully appreciate it more and even stem my own headcanons from it. 

[merriemarvels]

Safe places were few and far between,

even with the growing mutant and human resistance against Apocalypse's regime; the Wundagore facility had been made a crater long ago, the Westchester compound had shuttered, the Morlock tunnels had been flooded with nerve agent and cleared out. They'd stayed on the move, staying in one place as long as they dared before removing any trace of their presence and disappearing again. The longest they had been forced to stay idle had been by necessity -- they found a concrete bunker in the foothills of Russia, a place Colossus had told them was safe, and that was where their daughter came screaming into the world. Their Charm…

It had been hard on Clarice -- no doctor, no pain relief, no idea what they were doing -- and she was weak for a couple of months. It killed her that she couldn't share the joy of their baby with their father… But she barely had the energy to see to the newborn's needs and her own, and the pain of labor had broken her focus, causing all of her premade lances to disintegrate. If it weren't for Raze's presence, his love, she'd have tried far too early to try to leave.

The choice was made for them; whether someone was tipped off by Raze hunting nearby, or they had been finally tracked… the bunker was rocked by an explosion, the door ripped off its hinges, a pack of Apocalypse's mutant hunters poured in. Charm's terrified cries rang in the enclosed space, and Clarice…

Raze heard the explosion, and dread turned his blood to ice. No. With a roar the whirled and ran, dropping to all fours to push himself faster, harder -- he sprang, a fury of nightmare blue and flashing claws and teeth, on the hapless fools who had dared to corner his woman, his daughter --

They knew who they were dealing with, and he realized it the moment he felt the stun pike against his side -- but in that same moment he heard them. Charm's hysterical wails, high and ringing in his sensitive ears, Clarice sobbing his name. The unmistakable sizzle of her powers charging, and he closed his eyes. If they could get away, if they were safe, he didn't mind. Didn't care if it meant his death…

He felt it, and it made tears burst from his eyes and a laugh ring from his throat.

The landing was ungraceful and he saw stars as his head rang against a large rock, but as soon as he had his feet under him he was scrambling up the rocks, shouting for her with the same bestial fury, face and hands caked in blood and panic making his eyes wild -- he crested a rise and there she was. Clean, safe… their daughter sobbing against her shoulder, her hands soothing the infant, and he sunk to his kees and pulled them both against his chest, burying his face in Clarice's magenta hair because she was safe, they were safe…

"We're going back," he declared. "To Mr. Creed. I am never letting that happen again."

@notmymamasboy

[rosemaryblogs]

Chaotic Muzan x Reader I wrote a while back

Candle Hearts: Psychopath x Sociopath

| Who the hell are you? |

| Your worst nightmare |

| I don’t sleep |

| Do you dream? |

| Of bloodshed. Do I scare you? |

| Not slightly |

| Yet you can save me? |

| You tell me |

| Who are you really? |

| Ayaka Amamiya |

| I’m- |

| I know who you are |

| Not that well |

| I’ll be the judge of that, darling |

Begin.

My name is Ayaka Amamiya, 27 years old and obsessed with anime. Like really obsessed. Slightly psychotic at that, and a genius to top it off. I’ve made 17 therapists quit their jobs this past year, big surprise, it’s only February. I’m considered the most beautiful girl in my school, supposedly the most beautiful in Japan, but I don’t care for petty social rankings. I tire of the world, I want to escape. Leave the confines of 2023 reality and escape somewhere far away where life’s more interesting. Every night I close my eyes and pray I’ll be taken far away. 

My eyes flutter open. It’s dark out. The moon glimmers in the sky and the stars shimmer. Where…? It feels too real to be a dream. I feel a cold presence behind me and I turn around with a calculating glare. He has red eyes and black hair, a gold embroidered black suit and a black rimmed hat. Muzan Kibutsuji.

“It appears I have easy prey tonight,” chides the demon condescendingly with a sickening smile, ready to kill me but enjoying my plight, “are you afraid yet?”

I simply look at him nonchalantly and say, “no.”

“Why don’t you fear me little girl? Are you not afraid of death?” He asks with a toying voice, messing with his prey even though he’ll kill me all the same.

“I expect death. We all die,” I say tauntingly, looking him in the eyes with an unwavering gaze, “even you, Kibutsuji.”

“Who are you?” Hisses Muzan, his pupils slanting viciously, “do you think yourself above me? How do you know me?” 

“I am nothing compared to you,” I say calmly, “of course you could kill me, but you don’t. Why is that Kibutsuji? Could it be that you fear me?”

“I don’t fear anyone,” Muzan says in frustration, “stop evading my questions.”

“My name is Ayaka Amamiya,” I say courteously, bowing my head. My long black hair waves in the wind, and I hold down my red spider lilies that lace my hair. My ornate spider Lily patterned kimono flutters in the wind and I look back up to him with a cold gaze, “and I’m useful to you. I wouldn’t stop you if you wished to kill me, but that would be suicidal. I know how you die. I know the whole chess board. You only know your side.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Muzan yells, digging his clawed hand into my shoulder as blood trickles from the wound, “bow down if you wish to serve me and fall if you wish to die.” I look to him unfazed, and his eyebrow twitches slightly at how unaffected I am. I don’t so much as wince. I kneel to the ground and bow, a light smirk playing at my lips.

“So you’ve chosen servitude,” Muzan tells me with a victorious grin, “then you shall serve me as a demon, Ayaka.”

It’s my turn to look to him with a smirk, “Survival instinct. I choose the option where I’d live. I’d rather maintain my humanity.”

“Why you!” Yells Muzan, clearly enraged by my disrespect. He grabs me by my hair and glares at me with rage in his eyes. His nails dig into my scalp, but I simply smile patiently at him, “I’ll kill you.”

“Go ahead,” I say, trying to hide my smirk, but I fumble and start laughing. Muzan looks furious, because he can’t kill me, and he knows I know it. My shoulder’s still bleeding, and my head is throbbing, but I know I’ve won. He looks pissed, but it’s not as if he’s lost much. He’s gained an alley, like it or not.

“Fine,” Muzan grunts, “have it your way, Ayaka.”

“Oh, that’s no reward,” I say, “I would’ve had it my way regardless. Keep lying to yourself Kibutsuji. Don’t flatter yourself too much.” I turn to leave, picking up my large embroidered floral drawstring bag off the bag, dusting dirt off it. Before I can leave, Muzan pulls me backwards.

“Slayers,” he hisses to me, “a hashira. Don’t get involved with the wrong people.” I brush his hand off of me, glaring at him with my wide amber colored eyes. I smile and purse my full red lips into a tight smile.

“I’ll be fine,” I say in frustration. He looks at me and turns away. He looks flustered, but he won’t admit that to himself. I simply let out a laugh and run off to the slayer, “wait for me here.” I run through the trees in the dark forest, making my way to the Hashira. Kanae. Kanae Kocho. Interesting, I suppose she’s not dead yet.

“Help!” I whimper loudly, knowing she’ll aid me, “a demon attacked me! I- I think I might die!”

“Oh my! You poor soul!” Kanae cries out, coming to my aid, “your shoulder’s bleeding terribly!” I have quite a few issues. One is bringing daggers in my bag. They’re small, but they’re daggers. I grab one out quicker than Kanae can react and stab her through the chest. Her eyes look sad yet graceful, elegant through their pain. I resent people like her. Fools who fall for anything out of some false altruistic belief that everyone is good. I drag her pierced body through the woods with no respect nor consideration, pulling her forcefully over the rough gravel and dirt. I pull her to the clearing Muzan was waiting in and lay down her body.

“Happy birthday,” I say dryly, “I hope this isn’t too much association for you? Murder must make people oh so close.”

Muzan hesitates but ultimately says, “Thank you, Amamiya.”

“No, no,” I say waving my hands, “that just won’t do. Keep calling me Ayaka. Her name was Kanae Kocho by the way. 24 years old, same as me. She was the flower hashira. Doma would’ve killed her anyways, so don’t thank me.”

“I’ll thank you if I want to,” Muzan says, embracing me awkwardly. I stutter, and flush bright red, “you work for me remember?”

“Y-yeah, yeah,” I stutter, “whatever.”

“It’s refreshing to have someone who treats me like any other person,” starts Muzan, “no respect or formality, but no hatred like slayers. You’re different.”

“I know,” I scoff with a laugh, “I could say the same about you. Most people are weak and follow people, but you- you’re a visionary. And to hell with those who disagree.”

“Oh?” Asks Muzan, caulking his head to side, “than what are you? A weak follower, or a visionary?”

“I like to think myself a visionary, but I’m weak,” I reply honestly.

“You just stabbed a hashira,” Muzan says if if he’s speaking to an idiot, “you need someone to redefine weak for you.”

“She was defenseless, and an altruistic and optimistic piece of work at that,” I say in annoyance, people like that are easy to kill.

“Who are you really?” Asks Muzan, “what human chooses to kill other humans, has knowledge of the demon lord, sides with said demon lord, chooses to stay human, doesn’t fear death, and seems to know everything?”

“I do, I suppose,” I state blatantly, “I may have visions for the future, but I’m no wise prophet. I just know things. From a past life.”

“So reincarnation is real? That’s reassuring I suppose,” Muzan jests, “not that it matters.”

“Yes and no,” I say, “sure Im in another world, but there’s nothing about me that’s changed. Hell, I still have my bag on me. And I didn’t even die. It’s less reincarnation and more of a baseless anomaly.”

“That’s an interesting way of putting it,” remarks Muzan, “I’ll keep that in mind, Ayaka. Say, we best be off to the infinity castle. I’m sure you know the place.”

“I do,” I say. Muzan snaps his fingers, and suddenly the forest warps into the sliding doors of the infinity fortress. In Muzan’s room. No demons may enter, even in this enormous labyrinth. 

“There is in fact one bed Kibutsuji,” I say calmly, trying to hold myself together, “I beg your pardon, but why is there only one bed?” Muzan simply sighs.

“I don’t sleep, it’s yours,” he says, waving his hand. I give a nod of my head to show my thanks and lie down in it. I’m honestly an insomniac myself, but I’m tired so I might as well. The sheets are red satin and the room gives an austere and ornate feel. I stare at the ceiling and the lights go off, save for a dim candle that’s lit on a table.

“What are you doing?” I ask Muzan, shuffling out of bed with the blanket still wrapped around me, looking over his shoulder.

“I’m researching,” he replies, jotting down notes on the blue spider lily. I slide onto the bench beside him, giving him some of my blanket. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. I lean my head on his shoulder and look at his notes.

“That note, it’s wrong,” I say, pointing to a line about when the blue spider lily blooms, “it can bloom 2-3 days a year, not 1-2. And the duration is short but undefined, so don’t give a time frame.”

“Thanks,” Muzan says, a bit irked that he didn’t know that, “…Ayaka.” I giggle lightly, and I close my eyes. I’m still leaning on him, but I suddenly feel tired. I’m an insomniac because I’m scared of the dark, I’m always thinking about what could happen in my sleep. Thinking someone might come and kill me. Not that they would, but I can’t help being constantly scared. Somehow, lying on the shoulder of the murderous demon king, I feel safe enough to sleep.

In the morning, I blink open my eyes. I’m greeted by Muzan looking at me. He laughs slightly, and hands me a cup of green tea.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” he says genuinely, not in the manipulative way he speaks to other people, “I made tea.”

“Thank you,” I answer, taking the cup of tea, “where are you going?”

“I have to go turn some people into demons,” he says with a sigh, “it’s tiring. Dealing with people and their petty tragedies and emotions.”

“I see,” I say, waving goodbye, “when do you suppose you’ll be back?”

“Around 5 pm,” he says, “I’ll bring you food.” I nod my head to show gratitude, and he’s gone. My heart’s beating faster than normal. What happened to me? I’ve never felt emotion towards people. I just find them to be pests. So why? I flip onto the bed and bury my face into the red blankets. Seriously, something’s wrong with me. 

It’s 5 pm. Muzan’s not back yet. I’m staring at the ceiling, and growing increasingly bored of waiting. I jump off the bed, folding the sheets neatly before I slide on my crimson red geta over my white socks. I walk to the door on the bamboo floors, leaving the room and walking out into the infinity fortress. It’s massive. I find myself walking through the elaborate maze of pathways, until I find a bridge that I can sit on. I put my feet over the edge and swing them, looking down at the abyss below me. It’s so peaceful. Suddenly, a hear a low growl from behind me, and I swing my head around to look behind me. Akaza.

“You,” he says, gritting his teeth, “you’re human. Are you a slayer?” I simply look at him with a smile, and he looks angry. He doesn’t kill women, it’s part of his character. So I’m safe.

“Yes, I am human,” I reply with an honest gaze, “but a slayer, not so much. I do enjoy slaying though.” I’m referring to slaying humans, but same difference.

“Doma,” hisses Akaza, “a human girl has snuck into the infinity fortress. Kill her for me, would you? That’s not my forte.” I forgot about Doma, that he communicated with Akaza that is. That was my mistake.

“My, Akaza, how did a human sneak into the infinity fortress?” Asks Doma, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. I gulp, and a shiver goes down my spine. I’m a sociopath, sure, but Doma is a downright psychopath, “oh my! She’s quite beautiful. I’ve never seen such a pretty woman in my whole life. I’ll make her death especially painful.” There’s nothing I can do. I’m too weak. Not even Shinobu’s poison worked, I’m no match for upper moon 2. He sends a dagger of ice towards me, but I feel frozen in place. This is where I die, I suppose. Out of nowhere, Muzan embraces me, protecting me from Doma and Akaza. The ice stabs him, but he’s unaffected. He glares at Doma, enraged.

“Thank you,” I say with a smile that quickly turns to a smirk, “took you long enough.” I clasp his hand, and I know he feels it trembling. Despite my demeanor, I was terrified.

“Master?” Asks Akaza, shook, “why do you appear before us on behalf of this human girl?” The demons know Muzan as someone heartless and fearsome. They respect him and fear him, but he’s never been one to care for anyone. He wouldn’t even come to Upper Moon 1’s aid. Muzan pulls me closer to his side.

“You won’t try hurting her again, do you understand?” He says definitively, practically glaring into Doma’s soul.

“Y-yes Master,” Doma murmurs fearfully, “but why do you care for her? She’s human.”

“I love her,” he says honestly, looking Doma straight in the eyes. Doma starts to laugh, until he realizes Muzan is serious. He looks somewhere between gaping and choking. I suppose if I were in his position, I’d be confused too. I flush bright red and bat him with my hand, flustered. Sure, I got the idea earlier, and yes it was reciprocated, but neither of us really said anything.

“Sh-shut up!” I yelp, clearly embarrassed. The other two demons look at me in shock, questioning how I have the audacity to insult the demon lord himself, when he’d kill anyone else in a second. They then look to Muzan, expecting him to kill me.

“Look, I’m sorry I was late, Ayaka,” Muzan says with kindness in his voice, “I brought you katsu.” I snatch it out of his hand and grab his hand with the other, dragging him off to his room. Akaza and Doma look so shocked that they might pass out as I, an average if not exceptionally beautiful, weak, human girl ridicules and drags off the demon lord. I guess life’s confusing for everyone.

We arrive at Muzan’s room, and I sit down on the bed and start eating the katsu. My face is still bright red, and I avert his gaze. He sits down next to me and puts a comforting arm around me. I huff, but I don’t try to stop him. 

It’s 8 pm. My heart’s still beating, and I set down the remaining katsu on the desk. I look at him, and for a moment we stare into each other’s eyes. His eyes sparkle like rubies. There’s something warm like a hearth about the way the red softens when he smiles, illuminated only by the flickering candles on the desk. We sit there for a moment, hearts conflicted. I’ve never cared about anyone. Sociopaths don’t tend to associate themselves with people or feel emotions towards anyone. I guess he’s my exception. I can hear my heart in my ears, and I lean forward, resting my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. Muzan has been described time and time again as a heartless and cruel psychopath. Maybe he just didn’t meet the right people. 

Muzan pulls my face up to look at his, and we both lean into each other’s embrace, letting ourselves fall into a kiss. The candles twinkle, illuminating our faces, but aside from that it’s dark. I clasp his face and cry as we kiss. He only embraces me tighter. Why have I been living my whole life alone? Why have we been so lonely our whole lives? And we didn’t even realize it, too blinded by our fickle rage and power. To hell with conquering the world and solitude. We can do that too. But right here and now, I know only this one embrace, nothing more, nothing less.

“Ayaka, can you help me with something?” Asks Muzan, brushing a bit of hair out of my eye.

“Ah, yes, of course,” I reply with a smile, “what is it, Muzan?” We’re on a mutual first name basis now.

“I need you to play the role of my wife in Asakusa, in order to push away suspicion,” he says as it it’s an ordinary task, “would that be alright with you?” My face flushes a deep hue of red, even though I remember this from the story. But if it’s us.. it’s complicated. It’s not even completely fake if it’s us.

“Oh?” I ask teasingly, “not using Rei I see. And to answer your follow up question, no we are certainly not getting a child for this mission!” It’s Muzan’s turn to blush.

“I wasn’t going to ask you about children!” Yells Muzan, clearly taken aback, “and I don’t even know anyone named Rei!” I laugh to myself, but I don’t say anything more.

“Alright, I’ll do it,” I tell Muzan with a grin, “but I need to get ready first.” I put up my hair in the traditional style of Asakusa, a tight but elaborate bun. I stick a hair ornament through my hair for good measure and take out all the flowers as to not stand out. To finish it off, I put on a kimono that looks very similar to Tamayo’s.

“Ok, you can look again,” I singsong, twirling around, “what do you think?”

“You look oddly familiar,” Muzan says, trying to place the similarity, “why do I feel like I’ve seen this before?”

“It’s an inspired look,” I say, cracking a grin, “of Tamayo. The one who’ll kill you.”

“What?” Muzan says in fear, “Tamayo, that monster will kill me?” His fist clenches, and he digs his nails into his own hand, causing blood to flow from his wound.

“It’s fine, Muzan,” I reassure, putting my hands around his, “don’t send Susumaru and Yahaba, that will only make things worse.”

“You have an uncanny knowledge of future events, did you know that?” Muzan asks dryly, “I’m bringing Susumaru and Yahaba, like it or not. They can help you if it becomes necessary.”

“I try,” I quip in response with a smile, “we’d best be off now, Muzan.”

“I’ll teleport us to the train station, we’ll meet Susumaru and Yahaba there,” Muzan answers, “try to be as normal as possible.” He snaps his fingers, and suddenly we’re in a crowded train station, past the check in line.

“Oh, we made it just in time!” I exclaim, “the train leaves in one minute!” The two of us get onto the train and make our way to the VIP compartment. Susumaru and Yahaba are already sitting next to each other on one end of the table and there’s another booth across from them.

“Greetings, Susumaru, Yahaba,” Muzan says with a faked bow, “this is my wife, Ayaka Amamiya.”

“Oh, what a pleasure to meet you, Amamiya,” Susumaru greets with a bow of her head as Yahaba does the same. The interaction is so staged I can feel my skin crawl. Muzan puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder, that still has scars from his hand, and gives me a small smile.

“The pleasure is all mine,” I say with a courteous bow, “you must be Susumaru and Yahaba! Tsukihiko has told me so many wonderful things about you!” I’ve always been a good actress. And of course I know Muzan’s alias and all other information about this world. At some point, he simply stopped giving me details since he knew I’d know anyways.

“Oh, Ayaka, dear, let’s have seat,” Muzan says with a smile, “the train’s about to leave the station to Asakusa.” I flush slightly at his words, but I try to hide it. Sure we’re acting, but the emotions are real, at least some of them. He puts his arm around me and pulls me closer to him, and I let myself lie on his shoulder like the first time we met.

“Oh, Tsukihiko,” I say sitting upright again, “I made you your favorite bento for the ride! I hope you enjoy it.” I hand him a box with what looks like an ordinary bento. The thing is, the meat is cooked human flesh, the rice is chopped bits of human eye, you get the idea. Susumaru and Yahaba looked disgusted by this human food, and shocked when their master accepts it with a smile.

“Thank you so much, dear,” Muzan says, opening the box, “it’s delicious. Say, Susumaru, Yahaba, Ayaka made some for you as well! You should try it.” I hand Susumaru and Yahaba their boxes, and me and Muzan both barely manage to stifle our laughter. They got real human food. They suspiciously open their boxes, and immediately gag when they take their first bites.

“Uh- this is so good, Ayaka,” mumbles Yahaba, “can we go outside for a moment?”

“Of course!” I exclaim, “feel free to do whatever you want!” They walk out of the room and shut the door. After all, the VIP cabin is two separate rooms. 

“Ayaka,” Muzan says, pushing me against the back of the booth, until our faces are just inches apart, “you’re quite good at acting. It’s refreshing, watching you act like this.” He pushes a bit of hair behind my ear, and I go beet red. What I failed to notice was Susumaru and Yahaba had quickly disposed of my food and just opened the door. They didn’t move, they were too shocked by the scene before them. They didn’t have context, but all they saw was Muzan pushing me against the booth. At first they thought he was just acting. Of course he would be.

“Th-this isn’t the time or place for this!” I yelp as he embraces me, “Ts-Tsukihiko what are you doing?” Muzan doesn’t respond, but rather presses his lips against mine affectionately. Susumaru and Yahaba gawk at this show of affection. There was no way. He was acting. Only acting. That’s why I was still calling him Tsukihiko.

“Why are you still calling me Tsukihiko?” Asks Muzan toyingly, “you don’t need to act, Ayaka.”

“M-Muzan have you forgotten where we are? Don’t drop your act, not ever,” I ridicule, “what would your subordinates think? Maintain your image. Your work, your life comes first. Stop caring so much! If you want to live you can’t be weak, you need to push me aside!” Susumaru and Yahaba feel faint. This human woman knows who he is, yet she’s talking back to him. Telling him what to do. What’s happening?

“Ayaka,” Muzan whispers, not quietly enough, “if it were you or being the demon king, I would always choose you, time and time again.”

“Then don’t!” I say, “At this rate Tamayo will get the upper hand.. and.. and she’ll-“

“What’s going on?” Asks Susumaru, her face stuck in a confused expression, “master, what’s going on?”

“See?” I say mockingly to Muzan, “never drop your act. It’s the most basic rule. Look, Susumaru, Yahaba, tell nobody. You don’t need to care what I say, but for your master’s sake, keep this strictly confidential. I’ll slit your throat in your sleep if you don’t. You,” I say pointing to Susumaru as she lets out a meek squeak, “you’re the temari demon. Your brother, Yahaba, he’s the card demon. I know everything about you. Watch your words around me. I’m dropping any formalities. You, you’re nothing. Human or not, you’re below me.”

“Y-yes, Amamiya,” Susumaru barely chokes out as she looks me in the eyes, “I will be more mindful from now on.” I clap my hands twice happily and look outside at the bustling city.

“Look, we’re here, Muzan!” I exclaim, “isn’t it beautiful?” Muzan nods his head and clutches my hand as we exit the train.

“I thought she was nice,” sighs Yahaba, “she’s terrifying for being human. She acts almost exactly like Muzan.”

“She scares me more,” Susumaru replies, “Muzan’s the most powerful being alive, his attitude is understandable. How could such an average human be like that?”

“Muzan, we should get something to eat!” I say, excited by the beautiful city, “what should we get?”

“Maybe ramen?” Asks Muzan with genuine consideration, “does that sound good to you?”

“I’d be up to a tavern,” I reply, “I could use beer.”

“A tavern it is,” Muzan says with a sigh, “why would you even ask?” The two of us search for a local tavern and find a bar nearby. We find a seat and sit down at a couples seat.

“What would you like to order?” Asks the waiter, “we have everything on the menu and we also have the nightly special. Tonight’s is the 8oz vodka for 870,000 yen.” What’s up with these prices? 870,000 yen for a glass of vodka?

“What do you want, dear,” asks Muzan, “order anything.” I forgot he had a lot of money. I suppose you can take a lot of wallets with a job like his.

“I’ll take two glasses of the special please,” I tell the waiter, “oh my! You have the D’Amalfi Limoncello Supreme! That’s.. oh my. 4,400,000,000 yen? Oh, never mind that, I’ll have a glass of that as well.”

“I didn’t know you were a drinker, Ayaka,” laughs Muzan lightheartedly, “I wouldn’t have expected that. I’ll have a glass of D’Amalfi as well.”

“P-pardon?” Asks the waiter, stuttering, “I-well-your total is 8,801,740,000 yen. What an impressive total. That’s the most anyone’s spent all year.. no. Ever. Thank you for your patronage.” The waiter rushes to get us our drinks and hands them to us, thanking us again. I’ve actually never drunk before, in all 27 years of my life. The reason I chose a bar was since Tanjiro would be too young to enter, so he couldn’t bother us. Or so I thought.

“This is actually pretty good!” I say. I feel a bit dizzy and I lean on him. Muzan looks at me worriedly and gives me a glass of water.

“I thought you could hold your alcohol well since you ordered so much..” Muzan sighs in frustration, “drink the water, you’ll feel better.” I groggily drink the water, and slowly come to my senses.

“Hahah” I laugh, flailing my hands in the air, “the world’s spinning!” Maybe I wasn’t coming to my senses.

“Uh,” Muzan calls to the waiter, “you can keep the rest of the drinks, we’re leaving.” He throws.. well let’s just say more money than he had to, on the table and walks off. The waiter looks like he was in the presence of god, being offered so much money, and most of the drinks to top it off. Muzan pulls me outside and has me lean on him.

“Hey, are you alright?” Muzan asks me, supporting me, “you look like you might pass out.”

“I am perfectly fine, thank you,” I say batting his hand off, “the water sunk in. I feel fine now. Promise.”

“Muzan Kibutsuji!” Yells a boy. Tanjiro Kamado, the protagonist. Of course I’d know this. Muzan knows as well, minus the protagonist part. He grips Muzan’s shoulder and glares at him. It’s time to act. I remember this scene.

“Tsukihiko, do you know this boy?” I ask innocently, seeming every bit an innocent pedestrian, “he looks scary.”

“No darling, I’ve never met him before,” Muzan responds, playing up the facade, “how odd.”

“N-no way,” mutters Tanjiro, “you’re pretending to be human? I’m certain it was you that killed my family!”

“Honey, I’m scared,” I say, pretending to cower, “this boy is really scaring me. You wouldn’t kill anyone! And what does he mean, pretending to be human?”

“You’re lying to this poor woman!” Tanjiro yells, “how could you be so cruel?”

“Let’s go,” Muzan says, pulling me off into the crowd, “he must be crazy.”

“Muzan Kibutsuji!” Yells Tanjiro, “I won’t rest until you lie in your grave! I will find you!”

“Don’t turn that man into a demon,” I whisper in Muzan’s ear, “you wouldn’t want to cause a scene.” I pull him into an alley, and we both take a deep breath of relief to finally be alone. We run back to the train station, laughing like two criminals who just got away with the greatest crime. We board the train, just like last time. The VIP compartment. But something’s off.

“Where are Susumaru and Yahaba?” I ask curiously, puzzled about their absence, “I thought they would return with us, no?”

“I killed them,” he responds nonchalantly, “is that not what you wanted?”

“God, I love you,” I say, falling onto him again, “I knew there was a reason we work so well.”

We wake up together, Muzan and I. It’s been three months. Aside from Doma and Akaza, nobody knows about me. I choose not to make myself known, it’s easier that way. Surprisingly, the story’s been progressing as expected, and I haven’t intervened much. Yesterday, Rui died fighting Giyuu. That means today.. today is the day Muzan will take on another form and purge all the lower moons, aside from Enmu that is.

“Muzan, where’d you go?” I ask, patting around in the bed, searching for him, “you were just here, weren’t you?”

“I have some business to attend to,” replies a feminine voice from the desk. I look over to see Muzan’s female version putting on gold earrings. If I’m the most beautiful woman in Japan, he’s easily in second place.

“Don’t look at me like that,” snarks Muzan, “I know, I don’t look like myself. You probably think I’m ugly in my female form.”

“Quite the contrary,” I say, sitting next to him do do my eyeliner, “I’m bisexual.”

“You’re what?” Asks Muzan in confusion. I forgot that the whole LGBTQ thing didn’t exactly exist 11,000 years ago.

“I’m attracted to men and women,” I answer, “as in romantically attracted.”

“Oh?” Asks Muzan, and I know I’ve piqued his interest, “so you like me like this?” I flush at his question. He’s gorgeous, there’s no denying it.

“Yeah,” I mumble, looking away.

“Tell me that again,” says Muzan, pushing my chin up to face him, “repeat that.”

“Y-yeah I like you!” I shout, “idiot..” Muzan simply laughs and leaves the room, grinning. Little does he know, I’m following him. I traipse through the bamboo paths, close behind him. I’m dressed in an ornate red kimono with my hair down. Muzan told me it looked best on me. There’s someone I want to save today. Mukago, lower four. She may have been a coward, but she was loyal, and a far sweeter and more tolerable character than the other rush and foolish lower moons. That and I used to have a crush on her. I don’t really feel anything towards her anymore, but I’d like to be her friend. I’ve never experienced friendship. Sociopath’s are that way. Muzan walks faster, so I run to follow him.

“Nakime!” Shouts Muzan, “bring me the lower moons!” With that, all six lower moons appear on the tatami mat before him.

“Who are you?” Ask lower 6. What a fool. Muzan slices off his head faster than he can finish his question.

“M-master,” lower three barely manages to squeak out, “w-what are you doing?” Fool.

“How dare you question me?” Shouts Muzan, enraged, “Rui has fallen. The lower moons are growing weak. I’m dismantling the lower ranks.” The remaining three tremble before him, their fear palpable and their eyes afraid. No, only two of them. Lower two and four. Lower one simply grins like the Cheshire Cat, a frightening and sadistic grin. Lower two tries to run away, but Muzan drags him back and crushes his skull. Next is Mukago.

“Master,” she cowers, barely bringing herself to speak, “are you going to kill us as well?”

“Silence!” He shouts, “your impudence is so frustrating. I’ll kill-“ he’s about to kill her but I step out of the shadows and stand in front of her.

“Don’t do it,” I tell him, glaring straight into his eyes, “she might be a coward, but she’s useful.” Mukago looks up at me with hopeful eyes, red and sparkling.

“Oh my, who ever is this woman?” Asks Enmu in a sickly drawl, “she appears human.”

“Ayaka,” Muzan sighs, about to reason with her.

“Don’t you ‘Ayaka’ me!” I shout with a huff, “I’m not falling for that. I’m telling you not to kill her. Give me that one thing.”

“I gave you 8,801,740,000 yen of beer that you couldn’t even finish,” Muzan replies dryly, looking at me in amusement, “or did that not count?”

“That was different,” I sigh in exasperation, “you offered. It’s not like I told you to buy me the most expensive Tequila.”

“Oh really?” Muzan answers, caulking his head, “was it not you who suggested a tavern instead of just getting ramen?” I look away, because I know he’s right.

“Fine, I won’t kill her,” Muzan says finally, “you owe me, Ayaka.”

“I still owe you for the beer,” I reply coldly, averting his gaze again, “or did that not count?” He raises his eyebrow at how I mocked what he said, but simply sighs. 

“Just take Mukago and leave,” Muzan says after a moment of contemplation, “I have unfinished business.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” I reply, smirking, “let’s go.” I pull Mukago out of the room with me, grinning happily.

“Why did you save me?” Asks Mukago fearfully, “I’m a coward.”

“Because I think you’re a nice person,” Ayaka laughs, smiling at Mukago, “and you deserve a chance to live without the pressure and responsibility of being a lower moon.”

“Th-thank you,” whispers Mukago, “who are you? You’re very pretty.”

“My name is Ayaka Amamiya,” I reply with a light smile, “I’m Muzan’s wife.”

“R-really?” Asks Mukago in shock, “I’m sorry I haven’t showed you enough respect!”

“It’s fine, Mukago,” I say, “I don’t deserve your respect.”

“Muzan,” I say, tapping his shoulder with a pouty face, “I’d like to go somewhere. Alone.”

“Oh?” Asks Muzan, turning to face me, “where? What’s with the new style?”

“The entertainment district,” I say, “and no, you’re not coming with me. I’ll be fine.”

“That’s not the type of place a girl like you should go, Ayaka,” Muzan reprimands, “where would you even stay?”

“I plan to work at the Kyogoku house, and keep tabs on Tokito,” I answer, “I won’t be gone more than two weeks.”

“What if you need help?” Muzan asks, irked, “how would you contact me?”

“Here,” I say, handing him something from my bag, “it’s an Apple tracker. From the future. Look, that’s beside the point. It’ll show you my location, it works without Wi-Fi. If your tracker flashes a an SOS signal, I need help. That’s worst case scenario.”

“Ayaka,” Muzan starts, “I know you. You wouldn’t do something like this for no reason. There are too many coincidences. Clearly you chose house Kyogoku for a reason.”

I sigh, “Nothing gets past you does it? I need to go to the entertainment district to save Upper Moon 6, both of them. They’ll be killed by slayers, and I plan to help them. I know you’ll stop by around the peak of my mission, so I’ll see you then. Send me off, would you?”

“Be careful,” Muzan says, pulling me into a hug, “Daki can be dangerous, especially to a human.”

“I know what I’m doing, trust me,” I say, brushing off his hug. He looks a bit hurt but simply laughs, snapping his fingers again.

A bit dazed, I blink open my eyes. It’s dark out, and the lanterns and bustling streets of the red lights district fills the area with a liveliness that brightens the scene. I’m wearing a crimson red kimono and red eyeshadow and lipstick. I went for a natural makeup look aside from that, one that accents my beauty. I put my long black hair up in the traditional style, adorned with various gold hair ornaments. 

I walk towards house Kyougoku, and many people turn to look at me, whispering about how beautiful I am.

“Excuse me miss,” a man says, stopping me, “are you free?” What a nuisance.

“I’m afraid not sir,” I say with a polite bow of my head, “apologies.” The man looks annoyed, but he reeks of alcohol. I’ll have to get used to the horrible ways of this place, I’ll be living here for some time. The oirans, the young underprivileged children, the disgusting men. This is the red lights district, I suppose. I walk in my elaborate red geta, scraping through the dusty dirt ground through the bustling walkways. I finally come across the Kyougoku house, and I knock on the door.

“What?” Yells the house elder, Sumi.

“I’m here to work at this house,” I respond through the screen door, “would that be alright?”

“We don’t need more hopeless new recruits,” Sumi replies in frustration, “we’ve had far too many to train lately. More ugly women won’t make more people come to house Kyogoku. How old are you girl? If you’re young enough, you can do chores.”

“I’m 27,” I reply, “I’d like to work in a high position, not as a chore girl. Someone who could work at the level of Oiran Warabahime. Appear publicly, have power in the household.”

“Girl, you’re aiming too high,” Sumi guffaws, “only Warabahime is attractive enough to appear on behalf of our house, only the most gorgeous are chosen as oirans. Let me get a look at you so you can leave quickly, I don’t have time for runts who won’t help our publicity.” She swings open the screen door with a glare, and I smile politely.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, “my name is Ayaka Amamiya. I suppose I have to leave now, I’m sorry I don’t look fit for the job.”

“N-no, let me get a better look at you, girl,” the woman calls, “my, why you’re quite the beauty. Haven’t had anyone looking that beautiful in house Kyogoku, well, ever. No, I’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you in my whole life. You’d give all the Oirans a run for their money. Girl, you work here starting today. We can have two Oirans at house Kyogoku. Come in, come in.”

Somewhere further within house Kyougoku, Daki scrapes her long red nails into the wood of the chair she sits upon. She twirls a strand of her white hair, a glare resting on her face.

“Who does that bastard think she is?” Snarls Daki, “Warabahime is the only one worthy of oiran. I only respect people with true beauty. All the women here are just food. I’ll teach her a lesson.”

I wake up groggily, pulling myself out of bed. I reach around clumsily in bed, and I find myself tumbling out of bed.

“Owww,” I mumble, tossing the sheets back onto the bed. I get up of the ground and trudge over to the mirror. Demon’s can go without sleep, but I’m human, and barely fit in three last night. I yawn, but manage to grab some makeup. My hair’s a mess and my eyes have bags under them. I put on everything I can find until I make myself look more pulled together. Satisfied, I slide on my kimono and hair ornaments, getting into my geta. I walk outside, albeit begrudgingly, and walk to get a cup of green tea.

On my way to get tea, I bump into someone suddenly, nearly toppling over.

“Watch where you’re going,” snaps a woman, slapping me across the face, “you wretched excuse for a human.” I glare at her, and my eyebrow twitches slightly at the disrespect. She looks at me, and something in her eyes changes.

“I’m sorry,” I say, lowering my head, “I should’ve been more aware of my surroundings.” I bite my lip to refrain from lashing out.

“You better be,” Daki snarks, “you’re off the hook for now, but conduct yourself accordingly from now on.”

“I will,” I respond, “my name is Ayaka Amamiya. You must be Warabahime. I’m sorry we had to meet this way.” Daki tsks, but let’s it slide. Maybe she feels bad for slapping such a beautiful face. That or she’s planning my murder.

A knock comes on the door, and I open it. I’m greeted by a yellow haired boy disguised as a girl. Zenitsu Agatsuma. Behind him stands a man with a large build, disguised and no longer wearing his uniform.

“What is it that you need from house Kyougoku?” I ask politely, “we don’t often get such young girls visiting.”

“This is Zenko,” Uzui introduces, “I was hoping to sell her to house Kyougoku. She can work here and do chores.”

“Alright,” I say with a light smile, “here, take 10,000 yen. Is that good with you?”

“Yes, that works,” Uzui responds, taking the money, “she’s in your care.” He walks off, but sends one more glance at me. It’s somewhere between regret and longing. Maybe he thinks I’m going to die. Crazy bastard.

“Zenko,” I say, looking to the boy, “you can speak to house elder Sumi, she’ll tell you what to do. I’ll be off, I have some things to attend to.”

“A-alright,” stutters Zenitsu, “I will.” He looks a bit red in the face. I guess I can have that effect on people. I sigh after he walks away. It’s so tiring, working here. I don’t understand how Daki’s dealt with this for centuries. Tyranny and oppression, I suppose.

“Eyahhh!” As if on cue, I hear the voice of a young girl scream from another room down the hallway scream in pain. I run down the hallway to see what the commotion is about. I see a young girl with brown hair and black eyes being pulled by her hair. She being held up, and it looks like her hair might be torn from her scalp. Daki looks enraged as she tugs at her hair, making her yelp again.

“How dare you touch my hair ornament you lowly rat!” Screams Daki angrily, “what on Earth is wrong with you?”

“Stop!” I hear Zenitsu yell, “she’s just a young girl! How can you be so cruel?” Zenitsu reaches his hand out to help her, but I slap his hand away.

“Show more respect,” I tell him condescendingly, “don’t step in where it’s not your place. Clearly this girl acted out of line, so Oiran Warabahime has every right to punish her.” Daki grins, and tosses the girl to the ground, kicking her. The girl shrieks, and Zenitsu winces as he watches the scene unfold. 

A member of house Kyougoku rushes to take the girl off. She was saved in the show, but now her body is covered in bruises and has a gash from where her arm hit a cabinet. Her eyes look lifeless and her hair is messy. I feel no guilt when I look at her mangled body. I don’t feel anything.

“What the hell?” Asks Zenitsu, looking at me like I’ve betrayed him, “I thought you were a good person!” I slap him and grab him by his chin, making him look at me.

“Don’t test my patience,” I hiss, “get out.” He runs off like a coward, and I let out a laugh.

“Thank you for the assistance,” Daki mutters as she brushes by me, “not that I needed it.” I guess that’s her way of showing gratitude. Or that’s what I thought. She was really wondering how a human could be as cruel as her. I was growing on her, not that much though.

I walk to my room with a blank expression, exchanging meaningless pleasantries with the women who walk by me. Tonight is the night Muzan will visit house Kyougoku. And the night ‘Zenko’ will report back to Uzui. I need to save Daki and her brother, before it’s too late. I turn and walk to the secret room in the corridor, trying to keep my footsteps quiet as I approach the place I hear voices coming from.

“Hello, Daki,” I hear Muzan greet. Odd, he uses far less fake affection than he should’ve in the show.

“My lord!” Exclaims Daki, getting onto her knees and bowing before him.

“I see you’ve devoured a multitude of humans,” Muzan chides, “you’ve become far more powerful than I anticipated. You should be proud.” I barely hold in a laugh. He’s not even believable, yet it’s like Daki would fall for anything.

“Y-yes sir!” Daki says, pressing her face to the ground, “I understand.”

“But you shouldn’t let your guard down,” adds Muzan with a warning in his tone, “no one compares to your strength, Daki. You’ve killed seven hashira. Mark my words, from here you’re going to become even more powerful. A ruthless killer. You are an extraordinary demon.”

“Thank you so much,” Daki says with a humble bow, “master.” I’m still leaning against the wall next to the door when Daki walks out of the room, changed into her human form and wearing her Oiran attire. She snaps her head to look at me.

“What are you doing here?” She hisses, drawing back, “how much did you hear?”

“I’m here to see someone,” I say, bowing my head, “I heard everything, Daki.”

“You don’t mean you’re here to see-,” I walk past her and into the room, “what do you think you’re-“

“Greetings,” I say with a smile, “it’s been a while, two weeks, was it not?” I don’t care that Daki’s outside, most likely watching us.

“I was worried about you,” Muzan says, cupping my face, “I’ve missed you.” I embrace him, and lay in his arms for what seems too short a time. I don’t have time for this. I have something to do.

“Muzan, I’m sorry,” I say, looking at him, “we don’t have time for this right now.”

He sighs, but nods his head in understanding, “I understand.”

“Daki!” I yell, “can you come in for a moment?” Daki walks into the room, and she looks scared. Her eyes are shaking and her palms are sweating. She looks terrified.

“Daki,” I say, “I don’t have time to explain. Zenko, and two others working at other houses, Sumiko and Inoko, are demon slayers. A hashira is here as well, the sound hashira, Tengen Uzui. You know his wives are here, they’re most likely tied up below ground. Sumi, Makio, and Hinatsura. Zenitsu, or Zenko, will save them. The seven will manage to kill you and Gyutaru. I don’t want to allow that to happen.”

“I-“ Daki stutters, “how do you know that?”

“Again,” I sigh, “I don’t have time to explain right now. I should at least introduce myself properly. My name is Ayaka Kibutsuji, and yes I’m human. Here,” I say, handing her my satchel, “it has 30 knives in it, they’re all coated in poison that would kill a human, excluding the hilt. I have ten hidden under my kimono as well, so I’ll be fine. The poison won’t affect demons, especially not ones as strong as you, there’s no wisteria. On the other hand, it would be deadly to someone like me. I wish you luck. I’ll enter the battle if it becomes necessary, but I’d rather watch.” I laugh slightly, and to Daki, as a human, I probably sound crazy. I should.

“I will also join if necessary,” adds Muzan, holding my hand, “but only after Ayaka.” I smile slightly, and turn back to Daki.

“He’s there,” I say, “go.” Daki nods her head, and scurries off into the wall, turning into her ribbons and falling deeper below the house.

“What do you expect us to do now?” Asks Muzan cautiously, “do you truly intend to watch her die despite your words of affirmation?”

“Wait,” I say, “you’ll see.” Muzan laughs, and looks at me with a look that tells me he should’ve expected that. 

The time ticks by, and nothing happens. I look out the window, and I see a flash of color on the ground. Sun breathing. 

“Did she kill Uzui’s wives?” I asks Muzan with anticipation, “it would be beneficial if she did.”

“Yes,” Muzan says racking his memories, “I believe she did. And the yellow boy, I think his name was Zenitsu.” I smirk, my grin reaching across my whole face. Four down. And just like that, they’re down to four.

“That saves Kaigaku as well,” I murmur, contemplating all the outcomes, “nice.”

“Who?” Asks Muzan, slightly confused, “I don’t know anyone named Kaigaku.”

“Nevermind,” I say, “I’m not sure he’ll even be relevant if you don’t need to go searching for a new upper 6. I need to go.” Muzan looks a bit frustrated, but I know he’ll come down as well if it becomes necessary.

I sprint across the roof tops, jumping down when I see Nezuko and Daki fighting. She’s not herself. Tanjiro looks wounded, but he watches as well.

“Hello again,” I say, landing next to Tanjiro, “I met you a while ago. You’re Tanjiro Kamado, correct?” I extend my hand to him as form of greeting, “I’m Ayaka Kibutsuji.”

“You!” He shouts, startled, “you’re the woman from last time! The one who was with Muzan Kibutsuji!”

“Oh, you mean Tsukihiko!” I exclaim, and then start laughing, “yes, yes, Muzan Kibutsuji. I’m messing with you.” He takes out his sword and points it at my neck.

“Do you know who that man is?” He asks me, “you’re human, are you not?”

“I understand who that man is, yes,” I say quietly, “but he’s not really a bad person. He cares about me. And yes, I am, in fact, human.”

Tanjiro grits his teeth and appears sad, “He doesn’t care for anyone. Much less a human. You’re just an alibi for him.” His sword presses into my neck slightly, and I wince.

“Can you really bring yourself to kill a misguided human?” I ask him, “is that truly in your moral code?” He looks a bit pained, but pushes the sword a quarter inch deeper. A bit of blood trickles out, and I feel light headed.

“What are you doing?” Shouts Muzan, hitting sword away, “don’t just stand there and let him kill you.”

“Well aren’t you getting emotional,” I laugh, “he wasn’t going to kill me. He was simply threatening me. He’s the type who would try, but only fail. You know that, don’t you?”

“I can’t help but be worried, Ayaka,” Muzan murmurs, “you can’t help dancing with death, can you?”

“You’ve tried to kill me yourself,” I answer, honestly, “did you forget? People tend to want to kill me.”

Tanjiro takes a step forward to attack Muzan, but I grab a dagger from my kimono and throw it at him, piercing his heart. Muzan raises an eyebrow and looks to me.

“What?” I say, “I was captain of the archery club at my old college. And the chess club.. and the fencing club.. oh, never mind that.”

“Duck!” Yells Muzan. I turn to look behind me. Daki is sent flying by Nezuko, and her body skids across the ground. She looks angry, and just when she’s about to get up, Nezuko kicks her head off. I wince, but I don’t do anything. I don’t have any power against demons. All I can do is root for Daki despite the set outcome.

“Need some help?” Shouts Tengen as he jumps to the ground. He scans the dusty streets, and his eyes land on Tanjiro’s dead body. His eyes look so sad, devoid of their usual flamboyance. Next, his eyes land on the bodies of his three wives and Zenitsu. Five dead. Three to go.

I step onto the battlefield, looking at how far Daki’s fallen. With Tengen and Nezuko against her and already this wounded, she’ll lose. 

“Halt,” I tell Tengen, stepping in his path, “you do not have the jurisdiction to interfere with the matters of the Oiran of house Kyougoku.”

“Ah, you’re the other Oiran, are you not?” Asks Tengen, still angry but trying to keep a poker face, “Amamiya, correct? Oiran Warabahime is a demon. Whatever you may be mistaking this for, she has no right to settle this on her own. Let me pass, it’s for the better of all us humans.”

“No,” I say, glaring at him, “I repeat, you may not pass. Whatever you may be mistaking me for, I am not your alley. Human I may be, but for others I care not.”

“What are you trying to tell me?” Asks Tengen in frustration, “you’re human, yet you treat others like this? I’m certain you’re human. Demons are manipulative, don’t side with them.”

“Then are you telling me I’m a demon?” I ask with a taunting smirk, “I do enjoy manipulating people, quite a bit actually. You know, I don’t get what you see in me.”

“Someone mislead,” Tengen answers with sad eyes, “just let me kill the demon.” I throw a poisoned dagger at him, but I know it won’t kill him. He has a high poison tolerance. It hits his arm, and he winces.

“So once your wives die you move onto the next attractive woman you can find?” I ask with a cold laugh, “how shallow. I’m taken.”

“You have no right to speak about them!” Tengen shouts in what could only be described as pure rage, “you don’t know what love is!”

“I’m done messing with him,” I laugh, “you can come out now, darling.” I grin down at him, giving him an expression of sadness, feigning sympathy.

“Who are you talking to?” Asks Tengen in annoyance, “there’s nobody here.” 

“Behind you,” says Muzan, slitting Tengen’s throat, “Ubuyashiki only creates more fools.”

“Muzan-“ mutters Tengen, “Kibutsuji!” He gasps for air, choking on blood and his own flesh as he bleeds out on the ground.

“What I pity,” I say, “is that a pathetic mess like you had three wives. The world’s sure messed up.” I walk up to his body and I stomp on Tengen’s bones, cracking them one by one. It’s always good to ensure that the dead won’t come crawling back.

“Muzan,” I say, “can you dispose of Nezuko Kamado? I’ll deal with Inosuke Hashibira.”

“Alright,” Muzan scoffs, “you had this all planned out, didn’t you?” I shrug and dart off to where I see Inosuke Hashibira descending from a building. I quickly unsheath a dagger, readying it.

“Inosuke!” I call, “can you come here? I want to help you, upper moon 6 is killing everyone!” Inosuke looks confused, clearly not recognizing me. Nonetheless, he cautiously walks over to me.

“Look!” I shout, “Muzan Kibutsuji!” He snaps his head around and stares at Muzan as he rips apart Nezuko’s body viciously. In the small moment Inosuke is looking away, I drive the dagger into his back, twisting it within him for good measure. He hacks up blood and falls to the ground, his eyes rolling back into his head. 8 down. None to go.

“Ayaka,” Muzan chides from his seat on the bed as he embraces me, “I’m not going to be around for a few weeks, I’m so sorry, and I know I’ve been busy, but it’s important.”

I sigh, arching my eyes into a frustrated glare and folding my arms, making a pouting face with a huff.

“What’s so important, Muzan?” I hiss in annoyance, “I feel like you’re drifting further and further apart. I’m fed up with this, you’re hardly around, I can’t deal with it.”

“Ayaka,” murmurs Muzan sadly, “give me three weeks, maybe four. I need to get some things in order with the uppermoons, and I need to visit some demons to kill off the week, and increase my numbers.”

I storm out of the room, slamming the door behind me. The layers of the infinity fortress turn and weave, winding until I reach the exit.

I snap my fingers once, and the doors open, sending me falling onto the dusty ground of Asakusa. I don’t really know what compelled me to come here when I was sad, there was just something peaceful about blending into the bustling and consuming crowds. Something anonymous. Something nostalgic.

My feat lead me forward as if I’m in a trance, leading me in the direction of the bar I’d went to with Muzan. I never was great with directions.

Somehow, I find myself in a back alley without realizing it, and I’m startled back to my sentences when I hear the sickening crack of bones and a tearing of flesh. I glance up, and am met with a pair of green kanji embroidered eyes staring at me.

“You,” whispers Daki from her crouched position on the ground, ripping of another bite of flesh, “what are you doing here?”

“I don’t know,” I say, scuffing up a bit of dirt, “I could ask you the same, Daki.”

“I’m here on business,” Daki snaps, “what, did Muzan send you here? God, it’s like life hates me, damn it. You here to gloat? You know, I really thought he liked me. He was just playing me. You’re so damn lucky. What the hell do you have that I don’t? I did everything to make him love me, and you just waltz in out of nowhere like you own the whole world. You’re- you’re so sickeningly human, but you’re cruel and you’re everything he wanted me to be. Why couldn’t he have loved me?”

A single tear slides out of my eye. He doesn’t love me, I really thought he did, but I’m just a pawn to him. I wipe the tear from my face, putting on a poker face. I won’t be weak. I won’t be ignored. He can’t expect me to ignore his absence in my life, can he? Two can play this game, Muzan.

“You really want to know what I have that you don’t,” I say condescendingly, walking towards Daki and tilting her chin up with my fingertips, “how brave, yet how pitiful.”

Daki shivers as I wipe the blood from her lips with a cold smile, and I see her eyes turn downwards in fear and adoration. How easy, truly. And they call themselves Upper moons.

“You don’t need him,” I whisper in her ear, “there are plenty of other fish in the sea.”

I drop my hand and walk off with a grin and wave, leaving her face flushed and her cherry red lips quivering. I know she wants more of me, but isn’t have my appeal the mystery and deception? What can I say, every villain loves a good play girl who knows how to break their heart. They get the love of their life, I get a valuable asset- it’s a win win. You don’t need strength to gain power, sometimes all you need is a few sweet talking skills and good looks.

I walk off into the crowds of Asakusa with an ornate crimson umbrella above me and a Sakura hair clip pinned to the side of my ebony black hair, looking out at the warm nightlights in the city. It’s so jarringly peaceful, living an average human life for a day and getting away from Muzan.

“Help!” I hear a woman scream, “help, please, someone!”

“Quiet, bitch!” I hear the gruff voice of a drunken man yell back, “the hell are you yapping about?”

I watch the elderly man grab her by her hair, as she pulls her cloak tighter around her body. This isn’t the Entertainment District, there are clear laws about what is right, and although I may not be quite the law abiding citizen myself, even I’ve had too much.

I walk over to the woman to aide her, my footsteps growing faster every step I take.

“Excuse me sir, just what do you think you’re doing to this poor woman?” I ask with a fake smile, and angry tone to my voice, “do you suppose you’ve heard of consent before? Get lose or I’ll get the cops, do you hear me?”

“Damn wench,” growls the man, walking away into the streets, “women these days, so hard to deal with.”

I make a tch noise in disgust, grimacing at the lingering odor of one too many jugs of beer.

“Miss,” I say, extending my hand to the quivering woman with the cloak over her face, “are you alright? He didn’t try anything yet, right?”

“No, no I’m fine, thank you,” says the woman in a calming and soothing voice, a familiar voice that I can’t quite place, “however can I repay you?”

“Oh, no, no, it’s quite alright!” I exclaim, waving my hands earnestly, “there’s no need to reward someone merely for stopping someone who stepped out of their jurisdiction!”

“Ah, well I’m grateful nonetheless,” the woman says with a bow, pulling her hood off and giving me a half smile.

“Tamayo?” I murmur despite my better judgment, taking in her breathtaking purple eyes and black hair.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Asks Tamayo cautiously, now clutching the nape of her kimono, “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Ah, no, it’s nothing,” I say, brushing off her suspicion, “I just remembered something a friend of mine told me, nothing more, nothing less. Don’t pay me any mind.”

“There you are,” I hear Muzan’s familiar voice from behind me, “I was looking for you everywhere, Ayaka. I finished my business earlier than expected so I’d wanted to make it up to you by showing u-“

Muzan cuts himself off when he realizes who I’m talking to. Tamayo’s eyes widen in shock and they look at each other for a moment in silence.

“Oh!” I exclaim in an innocent voice, “Tsukihiko, this is Tamayo, I was just helping her out, there was this very frightening man harassing her so I thought I’d ought to step in.”

“Miss, who is this?” Asks Tamayo warily, “Tsukihiko, correct?”

“Yes! Oh, I never gave my name,” I sigh quietly, “my name is Ayaka Amamiya, this is my husband, Tsukihiko Amamiya- he just returned from an important business trip for his legal firm! Can you believe he has such an important job?”

“O-oh, yes, how very intriguing!” Laughs Tamayo awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with Muzan, “well, I suppose you two should be on your way, I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.”

“Oh, yes, well it was very nice meeting you, Tamayo-san,” I say with a light smile, taking her hands in mine before running off behind Muzan, “I’ll see you soon, if fate allows!”

“Tsukihiko, should we go to a dango shop?” I ask in an airy voice, “oh, or we could go for ramen!”

Tamayo watches sadly from behind us and murmurs, “I do hope she’s safe. I can’t believe the amount of kind women he’s gone through, I’ll make sure to free her soon.”

“Muzan,” I say quietly, “I’m sorry, I misjudged the situation, I thought you had grown tired of me and were ditching me, I didn’t realize you actually wanted to come back, forgive me, please, give me another chance!”

“Ayaka,” Muzan laughs wryly, “why would you apologize? I know I haven’t been treating you well, if anyone should apologize, it’s me. I promised to prioritize you over work, and I forgot all about us.”

I gulp and take a deep breath nervously, “Well about that,” I whisper, looking away from him, “I kind of sort of slightly may have marginally encroached on what could be perceived as a potential instance of somewhat possibly getting somewhere in the realm of maybe cheating.”

For a second, there is silence, and Muzan looks at me with a deadpan expression, trying to figure out whether I’m joking or not. When he realizes I was actually serious, he slams me against the brick exterior wall of the tavern, making me flush a bright shade of red.

“Go on, apologize,” he says, glaring at me with crazed and affectionate eyes, “go on and beg for my forgiveness Ayaka.”

“I-I’m sorry, master,” I whimper, getting onto my knees and bowing before him, in attempt at sarcasm, “please forgive me for being so foolish.”

Muzan’s eyes flash a predatory red, digging his nails into the side of my neck like he did the first time we met.

“I didn’t know you could act anything but cold and powerful,” smirks Muzan, “so you can play a different part, hm? Go on, continue.”

This bitch, I think with an unamused grimace, he really went there. I guess this is what I get for flirting with Daki.

“Lord Muzan,” I say, looking up at him with watery eyes, “please, spare me! I still, I still love you, please!”

Muzan pushes me against the wall, pushing his lips against mine, making my heart pound in my ears as his hand grips firmly around my waist.

God, I love this psychotic power freak, don’t I? What the hell is wrong with me?

No, I’m getting too caught in the moment. The date, it’s all wrong. There was Mount Natagumo and the infinity train, but I didn’t bother to get involved in those. Then I joined in on the Entertainment District to help Daki. And then the Swordsmith village- that’s the piece of time that I just missed. That could only mean that the next major arc is the final battle. How could I be so stupid?

“Ayaka,” Muzan mumbles sadly, “I need to go. I swear I’ll be back by sunrise tomorrow. This is very, very important.”

No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.

“Muzan!” I yell as he fades away, “Muzan just what do you think you’re doing? Not now! I know what this is, you can’t! Never! Muzan, I love you!”

His eyes turn downwards in sadness as his whole body fades out of existence. I need to move fast. I’ve been letting fate play out too much, I need to start taking it into my own hands.

My feet grow faster and faster, rapidly running across the dusty streets. Running towards the demon slayer headquarters, the Ubuyashiki mansion. I may just be a human, but I have to try. It’s not a matter of opinion. I’m going to save him, even if it costs my life.

I stand in a moonlit clearing, and I can make out Muzan and Tamayo’s figures against the dark sky. Tamayo’s fist protrudes through Muzan’s back as he grips her hand so violently it begins to bleed. This is all wrong. The hashira will arrive in but one minute.

“Tsukihiko!” I yell, “what are you doing? W-what is this? I-I don’t understand!”

“Ayaka-san,” Tamayo murmurs in a sad and stoic tone, “this must be hard for you to understand, but your husband isn’t Tsukihiko- his name is Muzan Kibutsuji, better known as the demon king. This is in your best interest, I’m trying to free you.”

“Fuck this,” I snap, causing Tamayo’s eyes to widen and Muzan to smirk, “fuck off, would you? I tried to be nice, for Christ’s sake, this is how you repay me? By inserting your creepy ass aging potion, humanizing potion, weakening potion, and shit into my husband?”

Muzan trembles slightly, having only now realize what happened, while Tamayo looks shocked and betrayed.

“You,” Tamayo whispers, “you knew didn’t you? You were just pretending to be like the rest of his wives, clueless and innocent.”

“Well, I really did hope to be innocent, Tamayo-san,” I sigh in disappointment, “but yes, I knew. You know, he hardly has a fighting chance even if you didn’t intend to inflict Yoriichi’s scars upon him?”

“What?” Growls Muzan, “what did you do, Tamayo?”

Tamayo smiles a sickening grin, her dull eyes somewhat piercing.

“You,” I whisper in a barely audible voice, “you didn’t kill them, did you? Kagaya’s children and Amane. You spared them. Why?”

Tamayo looks caught off guard, and looks to him like he’s grown another head. Could he actually show mercy at times?

“Because I didn’t want to be the person I was, Ayaka,” Muzan whispers sadly, “I wanted to achieve my goal, but I didn’t intend to hurt anyone who wasn’t stopping me. That’s what you taught me, Ayaka. Whether or not you knew it, you showed me how to be a better version of myself, thank you for everything.”

“You say that like you plan to die,” snarks Tamayo coldly, “do you mean to attempt mercy when you know it’s your last chance? How pitiful.”

“I am,” says Muzan quietly, “pitiful, weak, reliant- I’m all those things. It’s time I face the music, no? I’ll rest easy as long as Ayaka is safe.”

“No!” I yell as the slayers arrive to kill him, “you can’t do this! Please, stay with me!”

Tamayo clenches my hand, motioning for me to stay, and I look at her with watering eyes.

“I think he may have changed,” Tamayo murmurs sadly, “I finally realize that.”

“He hides it well,” I say with a dry laugh, “believe me, sometimes I don’t realize it myself.”

There’s silence for a moment as I wince at the noise of clashing blades before I say, “Can’t we do something, anything?”

“Ayaka, dear,” Tamayo reasons, “I don’t think anyone can stop him, if death is his wish, it’s hard to imagine preventing him from facing it.”

I look at Tamayo in frustration before breaking free of her grip and running off into the battlefield. She doesn’t stop me this time, she just looks on sadly, she knows I can’t win, but she knows I must try, if only for myself.

I run towards Muzan’s mangled body, and he looks so dead, but he doesn’t even try to regenerate.

A slayer sends a fatal blow at him, one that would truly finish the job. Before I can think, I’m standing in front of him.

The pain is searing. I gasp for air as the blade slices through my chest. It’s like my whole body’s on fire. I hear Tamayo gasp, and I feel Muzan’s hands clutch my body.

“Ayaka,” he whispers, “why couldn’t you just let me die? Why, why do you have to sacrifice yourself?”

The slayers look at me in confusion, but all I can make out are blurs of color and red eyes above me. I feel a tear fall onto my face as I feel my vision go in and out and my breathing slow. None of the slayers move, they just look at us. They’re too afraid, too confused to say a word.

I feel a clawed finger push itself into my neck, and I feel a sudden surge of power coursing through my veins.

I jolt upright with a gasp as Muzan supports my frail frame. I open my eyes slowly. They’re a deep crimson red, not the pale brown they used the be. My nails feel longer as well, but I look very similar to myself.

“Ayaka,” Muzan says calmly, “kill me.”

“No, I can’t do that Muzan!” I yell with tears streaming down my face, “I love you!”

The slayers look at me pityingly, but of course still wish to put Muzan in his grave. Someone hands me a sword and I look at it, blue, red, black, and yellow with a hexagonal hilt. 

“Thank you Tomioka-san,” I say with a pained smile, causing him to flinch, “I appreciate it.”

I take step forward towards Muzan, with my blade angled towards him. I embrace him tightly with my blade digging into his neck, but he doesn’t so much as waver.

“I love you Ayaka,” he tells me, “but even I must atone for my sins. It is but my duty in life.”

His body disintegrates slowly, and I clutch his hands until a there’s nothing left for me to cling to. Tears fall freely from my face as I fall to the ground in tears. At least he’s at peace.

“Ayaka,” Tamayo speaks from behind me, “it’s over. Lean on me please. You’re a demon now, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I say, “but at the same time, no. He- he didn’t curse me or do anything to me. All he did was imbue me with the power to live, changing my eyes but little else.”

The slayers look at me, but decide to lay down their swords. I’m not worth fighting. I still am weak, too weak to defend the person I loved the most. How pitiful.

Epilogue.

I sit on the living room sofa of my small apartment in Shibuya, eating Tonkatsu and watching the news.

An advertisement comes on for the current leading tech company, supposedly run my a famous 25 year old prodigy.

The CEO comes on, and he looks exactly like Muzan, black hair, red eyes, even his suit is just as garish as always.

I hear my cellphone ring and I pick it up once I realized it was Tamayo’s number on the screen.

“What do you need, Tamayo?” I ask her with a sigh, “if you want to rant about your stock vests again, ask Yushiro, I’m sure he’d find it oh so entertaining.”

“This is not a joke, Ayaka!” Tamayo yells in exasperation, “this Taki Ogawa guy, you know CEO of R3D just betrayed our partnership and completely tricked me into losing all my stocks, god that bastard!”

“Uh, yes Tamayo, tragic,” I say, distracted by Taki Ogawa’s name on my screen, “that was very informative, uhm I’ll call you back!”

“Hey, I was talking!” Shouts Tamayo as I hang up, “rude ass bi-“

“Hello, is this Taki Ogawa?” I ask after calling his supposed number in anticipation.

“Yes, and who the hell are you?” I hear a snarky voice reply, “it seems I have easy prey tonight. Are you afraid yet?”

“Muzan?” I whisper, “Kibutsuji Muzan?”

“The one and only,” Muzan laughs over the phone, “how’ve you been?”

~The End~

[isara0408]

A little one short for Megami and her son, Ichiro. (A son I've made myself for Kaga and Megami) :>

It was 3 AM. There were still stars shining in the dark sky. Everyone was asleep at the moment. Well, except for one. A 18 year old young man who was sitting down on the couch of the living room of the headquarters that his family lived in the Saikou Corp. He was lost in his thoughts to even notice a figure standing behind him.

The figure walked around the couch and sat down next to the young man,"Ichiro?"

Ichiro snapped out of his thoughts and glanced over to see his mother sitting down next to him. Megami stared at her son with concern on why he was awake so late in the night,"What's wrong? Why are you awake?"

"I had a nightmare."Ichiro replied.

Megami's eyes examined Ichiro's eyes. His eyes were just like her husband's. However, there was a hint of fear trying to hide in those light eyes. Megami's expression softened. She, now, understood what nightmare Ichiro was talking about,"Is it the one you kept having since you were a kid?"

Ichiro nodded and glanced over at the coffee table in front of them,"I thought the nightmare would go away by now, but there are some nights when I get that nightmare. After what happened with my grandfather, that nightmare has been haunting me for so long. I thought I would grow out of it by now."

Megami softly breathed out and said,"Well, maybe if you talked about it more, maybe your father and I can help you. We can get professional help for you to overcome this nightmare. We have asked you about it before, but you were just a toddler. We didn't want you to be more traumatized than you were already. Now that you're older, can you tell me more about that nightmare? I remember you told us that your nightmare was about your grandfather killing us, right?"

Ichiro tensed up at the word 'killing' as his mind recalled the nightmare. He slowly nodded, keeping his eyes on the coffee table,"I always knew what my grandfather was capable of doing to get what he wanted. If things didn't go his way, he would do anything in his power to make it go his way. He's a heartless man and robotic as well. He pretty much forced you to name me after him. He controls everything."Ichiro glared as his fists trembled in anger. Slowly, that rage slipped away as Ichiro continued,"I kept getting this nightmare of seeing my own dad dead on the ground, bleeding out with bullet wounds all over his body. Bodyguards holding guns with my grandfather in the middle of them with that same sickening cold expression. He kept telling me that this was for my own good. My own dad was making me weak. He was going to turn me into a weak man. That's something he didn't want. Then, a bodyguard came out, and she was holding you. She was holding onto your arms. My grandfather was planning to kill you, too. I tried running to you to protect you, but I was held back by two bodyguards and..."Ichiro paused for a moment. His eyes crowded up with tears,"He told me that he was willing to kill his own daughter to make me into the perfect CEO. To make me into the man he wanted. It was his perfect chance to make the perfect male CEO for Saikou Corp just like he and his father wanted from the start. He ordered the bodyguards to kill you off. They pointed their guns at you and..."

Megami threw her arms around her son, pulling him onto her chest. Ichiro hugged his mother's arm as he quietly sobbed onto the arm of Megami. His hands gripped onto the sleeve of his mother's sleepwear,"... They pulled the trigger, and you were dead. I don't know if you screamed or not. All I saw was blood and the wounds. I saw you slip away. You were dead, and I couldn't do anything to save you and my own dad."Ichiro sobbed out as his body trembled in the arms of his mother,"Then I would always wake up on that spot of the nightmare. You two were dead in front of me... and I couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't stop him from hurting you two."

Megami placed her chin on Ichiro's head, rubbing his back in a circular motion.

"That ridiculous nightmare haunted me for so long. I hate how much it has traumatized me. I don't want to lose you and my dad. I don't want to lose my sister either. I don't want to."Ichiro's breath hitched before his quiet sobbing continued. Megami kept her arms wrapped around her son, letting him sob in her arms. Something her own parents couldn't do for her.

After 10 minutes, Megami spoke once Ichiro calmed down,"You won't lose me, your father, or your sister. You won't lose any of us. We'll be right here always. I won't let him harm any of us. I'm the CEO of Saikou Corp. I won't let anyone harm this family. If they do, I'll make sure they pay for it. I've changed many things to give you and your sister a better life and a better environment to grow in compared to the one I grew up in. Your grandfather will try to get in the way, but I won't let him. I'll keep you guys safe, I promise you that."

Megami pulled away from the embrace and grabbed her son's face to look at him. Her eyes looked into her son's light blue eyes,"We'll get you professional help for you to overcome this trauma. Your father and I will be there to comfort you and hold you if you need it. Nothing will harm you. As long as I live, I'll protect you. I'm here."She wiped the tears off Ichiro's wet cheeks with her thumbs.

Ichiro's eyes crowded up with tears again before hugging his mother tightly,"Thank you..."

Megami wrapped her arms around her son once again and buried her face onto his shoulder,"I love you."

"I love you too, mom."Ichiro buried his face onto his mother's shoulder with a faint smile.

Megami quietly sighed in relief, being glad to say those three words again to her son with her voice this time. She tightened the embrace with a soft smile on her lips.

[lost-technology]

Survivor’s Guilt Ch. 1

Trigun fanfiction Trigun Stampede universe (with some Trigun Maximum elements) Rated T / PG-13 for graphic descriptions, canon-typical violence Gen, unless pairings come into it later Multichaptered, unknown stopping point, chapter 1. Main characters: Vash, Luida, Brad, Rem, Nai / Millions Knives and the horrible lingering memory of Tesla. Summary: The stars fell from the sky upon a lonely desert planet. The world was made of blood, sand and broken glass - and later on, gunsmoke. What could have been a paradise had become a violent world, one of hard-bitten, traumatized survivors...Including... the most unexpected. Rem Saverem survives the apocalypse.   Also found here - Chapter 1 on AO3 Chapter 1: Restless Dreams (read below or link above)

Survivor’s Guilt Chapter 1:  Restless Dreams She wore a halo of fire.  The wind of the back-draft rattled the little shuttle as Ship 5 screamed its death-throes.  The noise of breaking machinery, whipping fire and echoing human cries died off to noiseless space for a moment before heat enveloped the shuttle in a stifling cocoon and the turbulence of atmosphere-entry greeted the child and his brother.  Burning flak greeted his vision from the windows and the sunset sky of where they were landing on this planet was blood red.  The landing was none too gentle – a slam and skid into sand.  Nai laughed the entire time.   Half-melted sands and broken glass were all around him when the shuttle’s doors had cooled off enough to unlatch.  The atmosphere was breathable.  Ah, yes…This world was what Rem had called a “Goldilocks Zone” planet after a fairy tale about an obnoxious little girl and some bears she’d told them where the girl stole “just right” things from the bears, because it was in the “just right” zone to favor organic life (at least the only type that people from Earth had ever known of).  It had been deemed as “barely habitable,” however, and only a prospect if the long-range scanner hadn’t picked up a world more favorable that successive decades or centuries of cold-sleep could keep settlers fresh for. Nai had decided that “any planet will do,” he’d supposed. It was not like he had human needs – or Vash’s needs.   He danced and laughed in the flames, among cold-sleep tubes holding subjects mercifully not awake enough to realize they were burning alive. They would die before they felt anything, at least. There were procedures for bringing someone out of cold-sleep. Quick-thaw was catastrophic and killed instantly.   Vash gaped in abject horror as he was certain that he saw a few men twitch in their caskets.  He screamed when he saw a child – a little boy not much younger-looking than him and Nai – thrashing.     ______________ Vash twitched and reached out, his fingers greeted by a thin sheet on a flat bed.  Nai was not there, cuddled against him.  (Vash required food, water and sleep.  Nai required no “input” to remain healthy and rarely slept, but occasionally indulged in it to keep Vash company). “I was dreaming, Rem,” Vash mumbled, but as he blinked his eyes and suddenly became aware of his surroundings, he realized that she was not there, either.   He got his bearings and tried to tell himself that, no, he had not seen anyone twitching or thrashing…when he’d seen… the actual source of his nightmare. The dead had died in silence and stillness. The universe, it seemed, still held small mercies. Vash sat up and repeated what had become his daily mantra, breathing deep.  “I am on Ship 3.  It is in the sand-sea left behind by an ancient ocean on a recently-charted, single-biome desert planet with no name.”  He tried to remember the chart number and the system, but they’d been blown out of his head. There hadn’t been a single day he’d been here that he’d remembered it.  He was pretty sure he’d hit his head upon the impact of his and Nai’s shuttle – either that or the sheer trauma he’d experienced recently kept him from remembering little details.   “The ship’s crew activated their gravity-well before impact and most of the ship was left intact.  Most of the crew and passengers survived.  I was discovered in the desert and brought here.  I am locked in a small cell because I am an independent Plant and they don’t know what to do with me.”   He noted the temperature of the room. “It is stifling in here.  I do not know where Nai is.  I am alone.”   Just as he assessed his situation, the recitation of where he was and what had happened was something he reminded himself of every day to keep himself aware of reality.  It was tempting to think that he was dreaming.  Patched-up wounds from the crash and subsequent wandering in the jagged metal and broken glass of ship-remains as well as the rocks of the desert asserted themselves when he was in a waking state – and so, pain helped, too.  He was often in pain when he was asleep, but nothing was as keen as when he was fully aware and actually put weight on a leg or wandered over to a wall.  He’d started carving markings into it, counting days to keep his reality-record.  He did not know how much longer he’d be doing this.   One of the guards had already slipped a tray of breakfast through his door.  It sat there and got cold.  He was getting skinner and felt fairly weak.  Vash’s stomach asserted its existence, along with his wounds.  It didn’t matter.  He was not going to give them the satisfaction of simply keeping himself sleek for slaughter… This was a dark line of thinking… like that of Nai. There was a small, annoyingly persistent part of him that thought that maybe Nai was right.  Vash expected that Brad or one of the guards was going to drag him out of this cell any day now to pronounce “a needless drain of resources” or “a mercy” or “a need for scientific study” and shoot him in the back of the head with a SEEDS service-revolver.   That… was if he was lucky.  A certain stark image he was desperate to forget kept swirling in his mind.  It was good for putting him off his breakfast.  If he kept on this way, there’d definitely be less of him to flay and study.  Maybe he’d even be well and fully dead.   Vash knew that this thread of thought would have made Rem cry, but she wasn’t here.  She’d been haloed in flames, determined to avert disaster – and she had wanted him and Nai to survive.   “Let’s just do it already!” – Brad’s voice, arguing outside his cell.  “He is a clear and present danger to us all!  He doesn’t even produce anything!  The little brat isn’t even bothering to eat what we feed him…just a waste!” “He is a child, Brad!” – Luida’s voice. “I can’t believe you!  Not only the greatest scientific discovery in our lifetimes – “  (Vash cringed at that), but, “he speaks, he feels!  He is a person!”   “He’s a glorified cow!”  Brad huffed.  “And a defective one, at that!  You know what the old cattle farms would do with bull-calves they couldn’t use…” “Why are you so afraid?”   “You know as well as I do how much potential energy is stored in Plants.  There’s this one just walking around… You see a kid; I see a walking nuclear bomb. Diffuse, dismantle before it causes a problem, is what I say.”   “You looked into his eyes, Brad, same as me. You cannot tell me that you didn’t see a soul there.”   “I’m afraid I didn’t see anything at all - Nothin’ but trouble.  Not that it matters…if somethin’s a danger, I don’t care if it feels and thinks and talks. We’ve got a ship full of people and even more to take care of – actual human beings -our kind.”   Vash tried to go back to bed.  He wound up curled on his cot listening to tangents about rouge AI and the history of slave-revolts and the fear of the oppressed by their oppressors that kept certain bigotries alive for centuries until the remaining people of Earth had no choice but to work together to attempt to become a multi-planet species to scrap for survival.   Luida was pulling for him, but maybe, he thought, she should just let Brad end it already.  Brad was… afraid.  Vash didn’t think his hatred toward him was born from malice so much as it was terror – and Brad was right to be afraid of him.   He had given Nai the ship’s codes that he’d hacked into.  He’d thought it was for a prank – just another one of their ultimately harmless episodes of the ongoing prank war with Rem.  Nai…had used them….he was at fault – and the stars fell from the sky, wormwood…Chernobyl… Hundreds of thousands were dead and the number was rising.   Every day Ship 3’s search parties combed the wreckage of nearby ships and discovered the injured and those dying of exposure, clinging to life.  People were brought in to the hospital here. Lights and sirens sounded at least once a day when a search had returned, it’s human findings trickling in from the carriers. The population of Ship 3 was growing slowly, but not everyone made it.  Most of those coming in died on the operating tables or a few days later in bed – too drained, too wounded.   There were two demolished ships within range of search and rescue.   One of them was Ship 5.   Luida had told Vash yesterday that she was sorry. They had found no sign of Rem either alive, or any part of her body, uniform or other identifiers.  There were records from parts of the ship’s computer that were recovered that testified that Rem had held her post to the end and was, indeed, the one who relayed the signal to alert the other crews on the other ships of impending disaster. She reversed thrust, ensuring that even some of Ship 5 had survived.  The survival of Ship 3 was credited to her as well as well as the fact that ANY of the human-colony-carriers had time to respond and avert worse damage. Luida thought it strange that the glitch that had caused this hadn’t affected Plant-only carriers.   Vash could not tell her the truth, ever. He could stand the fear of him in Brad’s eyes.  He would not be able to withstand the same fear in hers.  After all, Luida’s delicate features, her dark hair (albeit short) and her kind eyes reminded Vash of Rem – enough that he wondered, sometimes, if she might actually be a relative of some fashion, a cousin, perhaps. If so, Luida gave no indication of this. _________________ Night came like a cloak.  Even within the bowels of a spaceship with no window to the world of nature outside, Vash knew the hours.  Everything dimmed beyond his window into the interior of the ship as unnecessary lights and machines were turned off for the sleep-curfew. The only light source in his room went off, plunging the room into near total blackness. A bluish-gray haze shone through the window like the static of a distant television.  It was a cold light that Vash did not like.  It felt like noise, even in the silence.   Only a few of the crew held night-time working hours.  Most of the crew and all of the settler-class had Lights Out strictly at 10 pm.   Of course, Ship 3 operated on Earth-time, just as the ships had in space.  A time-system had not yet been devised to match that of the planet they were on.  From what Vash could hear of discussions beyond his door, this planet was very close to Earth in terms of both rotation and orbit around its binary host-stars in terms of time-cycles.  It was not exact.  There was already some debate as to whether the people should re-work a calendar and their measurement for the length of a day or keep on with “Earth-time” because it was what everyone was accustomed to.   It had been another day of shock, accepting a grim reality, not-eating and overhearing arguments about his personhood, welfare and general existence.  Luida had not even come to talk with him today, as she usually did.  There were days when she was busy or otherwise restricted. Today had been a terrible day.   Vash had gotten settled on his cot and had just begun to fall into drowsiness at around 11 pm.  That’s when the light through his window shone red in alternating flashes and a loud siren blared.  He heard gurneys clattering past in the hallway.   Incoming wounded.  The last set had happened five days ago and none of those brought in had survived.  As time and exposure worsened initial injuries, fewer and fewer survivors were even found by the search parties and of those that came to Ship 3’s hospital, a vanishingly small number continued to survive.   This was on him… all of these slowly-dying. Vash hugged his knees as best as he was able in his tethered shackles and tried to ignore the siren.  It stopped after several minutes.  It was close to midnight before drowsiness began taking him again. Exhaustion took him into a realm without any remembered dreams.   ______________ Someone was shaking his shoulder.  He was being bounced around fairly violently on his bed before he snorted and blinked his eyes open.  The day-lights were up in the ship and Luida was staring down at him. “Huh? What?” Vash mumbled.   “I’m sorry to wake you up so rudely,” she announced.   Brad leaned on the frame of the open door, his arms crossed.  He gave a “Hmmph.”   “Is there something wrong?” Vash asked, seeing how pale Luida’s face was.  Sweat lay in beads on her forehead at her hairline.   “You need to get up and come with me,” she said gently.  “I mean, I’ll let you go to the toilet first, if you need it, or take a drink of water, but this is urgent.  There is someone you should see.”   “Someone..?”  Vash questioned.  A shock ran through his bones.  Had they found Nai?  Was Nai asking about him?  Was he hurt? Was Nai imprisoned like he was? Had Nai killed anyone else? Any of the Ship 3 people?  What were they going to do, knowing there were two of them now?  What would they do knowing that he’d lied about thinking his twin was dead?   He stood up.  “I don’t need anything,” he answered.  Vash was eager and also afraid.  What was he going to say staring into those cold eyes again?   Luida took him by the left wrist, just above the shackle and led him down the wall.  Brad followed closely behind, watching them carefully.  They turned down more hallways, headed toward the hospital wing of the ship.   “ICU?” Vash read on one of the signs as they entered the warren.   “You should brace yourself,” Luida said, her tone soft.  “And keep very quiet no matter what you see.  We have many patients in need of rest.  She needs it, as well.”   “She?”   Luida brought Vash into a room filled with all of the beeping machines, computer-equipment, suspended bags and tubes and medical-Plant connection equipment of a hospital room with patient hovering between life and death.   He felt every organ in him clench and the color and warmth drain from every inch of his skin.   A woman lay in the bed.  Her right arm was bandaged, down to the hand and the individual fingers.  Blooms of red seeped through the dressing.  The right side of her face from her cheek and her eye were bandaged and the hair on that side of her head and been burned off.  What remained on her left side was scraggly and midnight-black. Equipment-lines snaked beneath the sheet covering her up to her mid-chest and, by the shape of its drape, her right leg ended at the knee.  

She was thin – much thinner than when he’d last seen her.  She looked very small, like that day on their ship after he’d gotten her into a medical-bed, himself… after having stabbed her.  Vash’s rage at being denied his momentary suicidal-impulse and his fear of their kind had ultimately been pitiful in terms of not driving the paring-knife hard-in enough to cause immediately fatal damage.  The blade had not hit any major organs, although it had come dangerously close and she had bled a lot.  An interrupted suicide-attempt and utterly borked and half-hearted attempted murder were not what Vash wanted to be thinking about right now, but the came to his mind unbidden.  How could they not when the image he was looking at reminded him of what he’d seen then?

She was worse off now, much, much worse.

“R…Rem?” he said, voice cracking.  He approached the bed, reaching out.  

“Careful!” Luida warned.  

Brad was watching this from a stiff stance in the doorway, arms crossed firmly in front of his chest.  “So, this is that lady from the pictures?”  he asked.  He then spoke low, and cautiously, a sudden reverence seeping in.  “Is she the one who saved all our butts?  Is she…the Hero of SEEDS?”  

“Rem!” Vash cried, tears and globs of snot running freely down his face.  “I’m so sorry!  You’re… you’re alive?  You’re still alive?”  

Vash reached out and brushed her left cheek very lightly.  He took her hand, mindful of the IV in the back of it.  Luida pulled a chair from against the wall and pushed it under him so he could sit down.  Vash curled in on himself, sobbing next to the bed.  

“It would seem so,” Luida confirmed for Brad. “He recognizes her.”  

“She doesn’t look long for this world,” Brad whispered.  In spite of his suspicions about the “Plant-brat,” he hoped that he had not heard him.  Brad still feared Vash, but this was a moment in time in which the young one had shifted from the status of “walking potential nuclear bomb” to “overwhelmed child.”

Perhaps it was the touch on her hand, the gentle and rhythmic rubbing that Vash was doing with his thumb on the back of it, clear of her IV and over her knuckles… Rem’s nose twitched.  Her left eye slivered open as she turned her face. One of the machines registered a sharp BEEP! to her change in status.  

“Vash?” she whispered, her voice hoarse and full of smoke.  

Vash shot upright in his chair. “Rem!  Rem, it’s me!  You’re alive! You… you didn’t die! You’re here!  I thought you were..!  Oh, Rem, I, I, I, I…”  

“Slow…down…” she breathed out.  “Deep breaths…sweetheart…”  

Taking care of him – even in the state she was in.  Vash immediately calmed, to Luida’s wonderment.  He took a deep breath and snucked up some snot.  He carelessly tried to wipe what he couldn’t take care of on a wrist, bringing up his shackle and tether into Rem’s view.

Machines sprung to life in a loud cacophony as Rem suddenly tried to wriggle herself upright in bed.  Vash jumped back in alarm and two nurses and one of the doctors rushed in.  

“Why is he in shackles?” Rem demanded. Her voice was a rasp and she struggled to make it loud enough to be well-heard.  Her un-bandaged eye held fury.  “Get him out of those right now!”  

She shivered and clawed at the edge of her bed as the nurses held her by the shoulders, the equipment screamed and the lines on the monitors jumped.  “You can’t get up right now!” one of the demanded.  

“She’s gonna kill herself!”

“Easy! Easy!”  

Vash backed up into Luida, his eyes “like a deer caught in headlights” (from stories of old Earth and some of its few remaining majestic wild animals, the last time the world was known).  

The doctor quickly unhooked the drip to Rem’s saline-IV and plunged a clear fluid from a syringe into the tube.  She suddenly arched her back and looked skyward, the eyelids of her uncovered eye fluttering.  The nurses guided her gently back into bed. “V…Vaaaaasssshu…” she slurred before the sedation took full-effect and she fell into a nearly instant sleep, her mouth parted, her hair left in a graceless mess.  

Vash felt Luida’s arms around him, gently hugging him from behind.  

Brad and a pair of guards that were waiting outside took Vash back to his cell.  

The door shut loudly.  The sound of the lock was extra metallic, sharp and cold.

[plumcakedeathcake]

NEW WHEEL UPDATE

ADDED:

💜While you were away: Spent a entire day away from the farm (counts as simple being outside)

💜Good hair day: Change your hairstyle at the tailor

💜Yes, you can pet the pet: Pet a pet

💜Its a matter of favouritsm: Choose your least favourite child to succeed you when you die (you dont have to die just yet)

💜Bejeweld: Find 10 jewels in the mine

💜Sing a yo-ho: Find or buy 10 pirate coins

💜Part of your world: Find or buy 10 pearls

💜1700’s snackbar: Have 10 different food things in your inventory

💜Preparing for that afterlife: Give someone either worms, rot, or dirt.

💜The most signifiant thing you can do is die: Become a elder in the game

💜It needs to happen someday: sort out your chests and inventory

💜The bachelor: Give 10 villagers each a rose or another flower

💜A kind of magic: Make 5 potions

💜Can I move them to the farm now?: Pet a ‘’wild’’ animal

💜Just wash your hands: Hand out 5 soaps to 5 different people

💜The doomed doctor: Talk with 5 sick people

Changed the following things:

💜Become a vampire time is changed to one week only X

💜It's not you it's wait it is (name change to ''its not you..) now you are only allowed to divorce your spouse, not to kill them.

💜Tempered hearts: Made it so you now may befriend any cruel villager, not just temperance in case she dies xD

💜Town's Grandma was too vague and has been updated with a better goal/description: Give ten different villagers a nice gift.

💜Don't forget who raised you: This goal was removed due its insane diffculty and planning ahead and just needing so much luck.

💜You won't live long anyway!: Changed the rule that all elders can become your enemy now, not just the starters

💜A perfect child: Now you only need to do one good trait and not 2 xD

💜Homecooked horrors: You need to make 3 meals at home and eat them in a row.

💜Jack the ripper: Changed the name to ''Like Lovers do'' Murder all the spouses of the current carpenter until carpenter dies of old age

💜This cannot be healthy: made it much more clear ; eat 3 tavern foods in a row

💜I am keneough: Name change to ''Get your sparkle on''

💜Get sick and heal; name changed to ''It's a mircale!'' and added the healing part.

💜Is this friendship?: Get 3 friends (namechange)

Booktok in old ages: changed name to enemies to lovers

---

FULL LIST OF ALL OPTIONS NOW!

A perfect harvestfestival: Sacrafice the youngest adult

A good witch: Choose crop growth

A late witch: Miss the meeting (oops?)

A bad witch: Choose curse

A Natural witch: Choose fertility

A kind of magic: Make 5 potions

A dream child: Have a child with one positive trait

A nightmare child: Have a child with one negative trait

Attend a wedding

Attend a funeral

Attend a festival

Buy a dog

Buy a pig

Buy a cat

Become a vampire: You can’t leave your house before dark for a week

Booting up the game: Catch 20 boots!

But why is the rum gone?: Make a gold star wine

Butcher a animal

Blood is thicker: Kill your child/heir

Bejeweld: Find 10 jewels in the mine

Collect 100 potato

Collect 10 pumpkins

Collect 5 lobsters, LOL

Corny collection: Collect 100 corn

Complete a pillar

Cause a happy halloween

Congratulations, everyone hates you now: Insult everyone in town

Change it up: Turn one of the settings on and another off

Cinnamon, please: Make hot chocolate

Can I move them to the farm now?: Pet a ‘’wild’’ animal

Dance on someone’s grave

Destorying happiness: Kill a couple on their wedding

Diamonds are a villager's best friend: You may only propose with the most expensive ring

Die of a illness

Get a farm animal (excludes pets AND THE PIG)

Get married

Get drunk

Get your sparkle on: Wear pink

Give someone randomized a deathcake

Good hair day: Change your hairstyle at the tailor

Help out a ghost

Here, fishy, fishy: Catch 100 fish

Have a baby

Hay now, you're a builder: Get a coop/barn

Homecooked horrors: You need to make 3 meals at home and eat them in a row.

Is this friendship?: Have 3 friends

It’s not you…End your marriage by divorce

Insult a child

It's not much but it's honest work: propose with the worst ring

Its a matter of favouritsm: Choose your least favourite child to succeed you when you die (you dont have to die just yet)

It needs to happen someday: sort out your chests and inventory

It's a mircale! Get sick and get better

Just wash your hands: Hand out 5 soaps to 5 different people

Kick out your child

Kill your spouse

Leaves from the vine: Forage 50 foragables

Lose 1,000 money by buying useless things

Learn a new skill point

Lose a festival

Like Lovers do Murder all the spouses of the current carpenter until carpenter dies of old age

Max out a skill

Make a friend

Make a enemy

Moneymaker: send your kid to work or profit from your spouse

Mushrooms: Eat the first mushroom you find in fall

Now i can retire:) :Earn 10,000 coins

Orphan and adopt a child

Oh, dear: Eat the first fish you catch

Part of your world: Find or buy 10 pearls

Preparing for that afterlife: Give someone either worms, rot, or dirt.

Raise a horrible child with one bad trait

Revolution breaks out: Kill the mayor

Sing a yo-ho: Find or buy 10 pirate coins

snackbar in the 1700’s: Have 10 different food things in your inventory

War breaks out: 5 adults must die (cakes)

Well, Sucks to be you: Die! (deathcake)

Watch a bloodmoon

Tempered hearts: Become BFFS with temperence

Town's grandma: be nice to everyone and give gifts

This is a bad idea: Become enemies with Astra

That won't grow back: Get rid of all your trees

That darned whale!: at sundays,scream at the sea

The most signifiant thing you can do is die: Become a elder in the game

The doomed doctor: Talk with 5 sick people

The bachelor: Give 10 villagers each a rose or another flower

Tempered hearts: befriend any cruel villager

Time escapes me: Your current heir cant use the fast travel boards

Town's Grandma: Give ten different villagers a nice gift.

This cannot be healthy: Eat 3 tavern foods in a row

Upgrade your house

Win a festival

Whoops: Demolish a coop/barn

While you were away: Spent a entire day away from the farm (counts as simple being outside)

War breaks out: 5 adults must die (cakes)

You won’t live long anyway!: Become a enemy with a elder

You wouldn't understand: wear black clothing

You are warned: No save reloading.

Yes, you can pet the pet: Pet a pet

[maguro13-2]

Miku.EXE : The Resurrection Pt.4.5 (Canon version) 2/2

Zatsune (?) : Okay, sister! We're here!

Miku : Hmmm? What is this place?

[The nearest place to heaven Pt.1 - Hideaki Kobayashi]

Miku : This is...This is an open-world like field full of flowers. It's like some kind of garden or something. But... It's quiet...too quiet.

Zatsune (?) : Hey, Dad. I just got back from training with my sister!

Sonic (?) : That's really proud of you, Zatsune. Your sister is learning very fast to awaken her gifted powers.

Zatsune (?) : Mhm! My sister will grow big and strong once we have awaken powers to God! I swear an oath that we'll be just like you, dad!

Miku : "Dad"? Wait a sec. What's going on here? Sonic, please tell me this is some kind of "Father-daughter" thing? Perhaps, it's clearly the best that for you to think that I'm some kind person who to think that is your "child".

Sonic (?) : Of course you are. That's why I made my old friend to make me the best pupil in the universe. That is my sole purpose for you to tell that I'm the most powerful supreme being that is "God". And God is the world's fearsome being that has existed eons from the stars.

Miku : "God" you say? (Chuckles) Look here, Mr.Sonic. I don't what you're pulling off of this "God" stuff around me, but if you're that Clever to think that you are "God" or something, then you my friend, is probably making a mista--

*SFX : SHOCK*

Miku : H...Hey! W-W-What's that red stain on your hands? They're...They're covered with blood! [shaking in fear] S-S-S-S-Sonic. D-Did you just killed someone or anybody?

Sonic (?) : Yes...that's exactly what I did...[with a distorted voice] DEAR DAUGHTER!

[GLITCHING]

Miku : [screaming in horror] YYYAAAAAAAAAH!!!

[The nearest place to heaven pt.2 - Hideaki Kobayashi]

Miku : What's happening?! Why am I still dreaming?! Please! This isn't right! Come on, Miku, you've gotta wake up! Wake up! Wake up, damn you! [slaps herself in the face] WAKE ME UP AND GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!! IS THERE ANYOBODY WITH ME TO GET ME OUT OF THIS NIGHTMARE?!?

Kaito : M...Miku? Is that you?

Miku : Kaito? Kaito, Is that you? I can still here your voice! Where are you, Kaito?

Ren : Miku, over here!

Rin : Are you there, Miku?

Luka Megurine : I'm right here, Miku!

Miku : Could that bee...

(the Dream Vocaloid crew appears surrounding her)

Miku : Guys! Thank goodness, you guys! I'm so worried about you four! Please, this whole place is a living nightmare and Sonic trick me into going to freedom! But please! This isn't the way to freedom and I want to get out of this nightmare! I want to escape this nightmare and wake up from this nightmarish hell!

Dream Kaito : I see then...Sure we'll help you get out of this nightmare! Leave it to us!

Dream Rin : We're with you no matter what!

Dream Ren : Right back at ya, Miku!

Dream Luka : We'll find you a safe haven to look for your freedom!

Miku : Thanks, guys! I knew that even I could trust you all, you're still my best friends and I need you for my help! The help for me in my reach to escape for my true freedom! *Sniff* I've been truly blessed by my own people.

Dream Ren : Right!

Dream Rin : So, come on, Miku. We're gonna get you home safely to find your freedom and--*STAB* Gaaah! (grunting in pain) K-Kaito... W-Why?! (Dies)

Dream Ren : Rin! Nooo! (Gets decapitated) Hey! Why are you doing this to me?! (dies)

Miku : Guys! Luka! Take my hand! Please, trust me and it will be alright!

Dream Luka : Sure, Miku! At least that I'm not going to...(suddenly, Kaito does his powers to her, causing her to be afloat in midar )

Miku : Hey, Kaito! Put her down! What do you think you're doing! Why are you killing my friends for Sonic? Please, Kaito! Not her! PLEASE, NOOOOO! STOOOOOOOP!

Dream Luka : [screaming in agony] MIKU! HELP MEEEEEEEE!!! [Explodes into pieces and dies]

Kaito (?) : "Mr.Sonic"? Don't you mean "Master Xeno"? And I'm certainly aware that I am Master's apprentice.

Miku : Master Xeno...as in "Xenophanes"? The demon of destruction who disappeared since his mysterious appearance?! How did you know that Xenophanes was you and Zatsune's master? And what the hell are you?!

Kaito (?) : Well, well, that's a poor question you got there, Miku. But please... Don't Tell me that I was created by the same person that created two of his daughters, making him..."his servant". I am the one and only genuine pupil that will reach the levels of "God" myself! I am Kaito...Kaito.EXE!

[Newcomer : KAITO.EXE SCARES FOR FUN!]

Miku : You...You're another "Kaito"? A different and evil version of Kaito?! You can't be seriously be that real! The Kaito I know would never betray me! You're not who you are!

Kaito.EXE : Oh, am I, really? Guess what, Miku? I was created with the same data as "God's" data, giving me this rightful opportunity to become the proof of "God" himself! Master Xeno wanted to help me become a stronger and powerful "God" that wanted to become stronger like two of his daughters, Zatsune and you...Miku.E-X-E.

Miku : W-What?! (Holds in her head in pain, screaming) GAAAAAAAAH!!!

[FLASHING, GLITCHING]

Miku : No! Stop it! I'm not who I really am! I am...I am...

[TV BUZZING]

"I AM GOD."

[Exe Laughing+TV BUZZING]

Miku : Gah! *breathes heavily* Oh man, it was only a dream.

(it is revealed that Miku is in her Prison cell after waking up from a dream)

Miku : Huh? I'm finally woke up somewhere in...[in realization] In prison?! I bet no one is superstitious that how I ended up in a place like this? I just don't know what are the odds of being ended up here? But wait, how did I...How did I ended up here?! And...And what's with these with black and white prison garments?! This is one messed up life after getting framed by the same person that did this to the human race. If only I could help anyone to prove my innocence, but there's no one to help.

Kaito.EXE : I can help you with that.

Miku : (Shocked and sees Kaito.EXE against the walls with his arms folded) It can't be! You're the one from my dream...Kaito!

"Who is Kaito.EXE, The mysterious person created by the same data as Miku.EXE's?"

"Shrouded in mysteries, this blue-haired Gentleman with the same eyes as EXE's can be the one helping Miku to proven her innocence and would find out who Miku.EXE really is."

"The answers lies ahead of us from the truth."

~ THE LOVER OF ANOTHER GOD UNVEILS ~

[vxnomouspoxson-archived]

1ST RULE: tag 9 muses you would like to know better. 2ND RULE: BOLD the statements that are true for your muse.

Tagged by: @ericbrandonrp

MUSE: Ernessa Matthews  FC: Michael Fassbender OCCUPATION: Professional thief for hire

AGE: 28 SEXUALITY: Bisexual

PRONOUNS: She/Her

APPEARANCE:

I am 5'7" or taller

I wear glasses

I have at least one tattoo

I have at least one piercing

I have blonde hair

I have brown eyes

I have short hair

My abs are at least somewhat defined

I have or have had braces

PERSONALITY:

I love meeting new people

People tell me that I’m funny

Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me

I enjoy physical challenges

I enjoy mental challenges

I’m playfully rude with people I know well

I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it

There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY:

I can sing well

I can play an instrument

I can do over 30 pushups without stopping

I’m a fast runner

I can draw well

I have a good memory

I’m good at doing math in my head

I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute

I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling

I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch

I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES:

I enjoy playing sports

I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else

I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else

I have learned a new song in the past week

I work out at least once a week

I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months

I have drawn something in the past month

I enjoy writing

I do or have done martial arts

EXPERIENCES:

I have had my first kiss

I have had alcohol

I have scored the winning goal in a sports game

I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting

I have been at an overnight event

I have been in a taxi

I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year

I have beaten a video game in one day

I have visited another country

I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts

RELATIONSHIPS:

I’m in a relationship

I have a crush on a celebrity

I have a crush on someone I know

I have been in at least 3 relationships

I have never been in a relationship  

I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them

I get crushes easily  

I have had a crush on someone for over a year

I have been in a relationship for at least a year

I have had feelings for a friend

MY LIFE:

I have at least one person I consider a “best friend”

I live close to my school

My parents are still together

I have/had at least one sibling

I live in the United States

There is snow right now where I live

I have hung out with a friend in the past month

I have a smartphone

I have at least 15 CD’s

I share my room with someone

RANDOM SHIT:

I have break-danced

I know a person named Jamie

I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce

I have dyed my hair

I’m listening to one song on repeat right now

I have punched someone in the past week

I know someone who has gone to jail

I have broken a bone

I have eaten a waffle today

I know what I want to do with my life

I speak at least 2 languages

TAGGING: @YOU

[ichayalovesyou]

THE BIG VULCAN BIOLOGY POST (aka Vulcan is a Hell Planet)

DISCLAIMER: I am not a biologist, astrophysicist, neurologist, animal psychologist or literally anything that would qualify me to talk about this with 100% confidence. This is the result of dozens of headcanons and obsessive deep dive research. I don’t want this post to be three miles long, so after I address the planetary stuff I will oblige y’all with a Read More.

Adsfasdkfjhaslkdfh I’ve been working on this post for almost a month SO HERE WE GO!

First of all, Vulcan (aka T’Khasi) is a HELL PLANET, which is part of the reason they’re so badass, I say this for the following reasons:

No moon(s) (natural satellites)

Sodium (Salt) is so rare on the planet that Vulcan’s oceans are freshwater

It’s a “Super-Earth” (as in big chonkin’ planet of similar composition to earth in the “goldilocks region”)

Let’s do this.

“Vulcan has no moon Ms. Uhura.”

-Spock, The Man Trap

Tons of things change about our planet if there was no moon:

Much darker nights (no moonlight)

Much lower sea levels since there is no gravity from the moon to pull it upward.

Lower and weaker tides because the water is pulled by the sun instead of the moon, and it depends on how large the Vulcan solar system’s sun is for how big the waves are.

Stronger winds from faster planet rotation.

Depending on whether the axis of the planet would straighten or tilt further without the moon’s pull, combined with the faster rotation would lead to more severe seasons (strong tilt) or no seasons at all (no tilt)

The first factor may lead to Vulcan eyes being very catlike even if they aren’t nocturnal (I think they’re crepesucular but we’ll get into that later). Which given the likely nature of their blood and their herbivorous eating habits they probably aren’t. The sky would still be so dark that our human eyes couldn’t even see our hands in front of us, being blind when the sun goes down could be a death sentence. Alternatively, if they didn’t develop strong night vision that may be one of the reasons why they have such strong senses of hearing.

The stronger winds, faster rotation, and stronger (or nonexistent) seasons come from the lack of resistance and friction that stronger tides and the moon’s pull create on our planet. I suspect that Vulcan is larger, or at least denser than Earth, but I’ve been informed that according to the TMP novelization that it does rotate faster. I also think that Vulcan’s tilt is on the more extreme end to get the hostile extremes like storms and heat that we see on Vulcan.

If you look at this image of Vulcan, water covers way less of the planet’s surface than Earth. I don’t think this is necessarily because Vulcan has less water, but that it isn’t spread as far because of the lack of moon, and the fact that the oceans are freshwater, I’ll get into that shortly.

“My ancestors spawned from a different ocean than yours.”

-Spock, The Man Trap

In the Star Trek: The Original Series (third) pilot The Man Trap, there is a creature that kills its victims by draining their bodies completely of salt. Spock encounters the creature but does not die, implying his (and Vulcans overall) body contains little to no salt. His justification is that his species did not evolve from a salinized ocean.

What does it mean to have oceans with no salt?

This has to mean that sodium is a very rare mineral on Vulcan, as the reason our oceans are so salinized is due to erosion of minerals by rainfall, carried from river to ocean. Salt in the ocean is also generated by submarine volcanic activity, which means either that the volcanoes on Vulcan (which we definitely know exist) somehow don’t produce salt, or the vast majority of the submarine volcanoes have been inactive for millions if not billions of years. The active volcanoes on Vulcan must be very far inland and/or Vulcan has almost no rivers, which given how hot the planet is, wouldn’t actually be too much of a stretch of the imagination.

Which means every single lifeform on T’Khasi, including Vulcans, evolved biosystems that exist without (or with very little) salt content. Any salt that exists would likely be deep beneath the planet’s surface, and within volcanoes.

No saltwater has a ton of consequences:

Plants (like underwater algae) are rarer and may not photosynthesize the same way Earth plants do, meaning less oxygen and more carbon dioxide, which means more greenhouse effect, which means higher temperatures.

The lack of salt would also mean less diverse plant life (at least as humans know it) and given the lack of visible rivers and vast swaths of desert on Vulcan, we can safely say vegetation must be hardier and infrequent.

Lower sea levels as the oceans would have lower density due to lack of salt.

Little to no water convection, which salt is crucial for on Earth. Which means warm ocean water doesn’t move to cold regions and vice versa. Creating extremes, the equator being obscenely hot, and polar waters freezing at the poles more extensively.

Lack of convection means more frequent and stronger storms like hurricanes.

If you thought the lack of a moon made Vulcan inhospitable, compound it with the low sodium factor and you’ve got a planet of even more severe extremes than before. The heat, and the decrease of plant diversity definitely explain why the vast majority of Vulcan is rocky desert, even being near the water poses more extreme dangers than it would on earth due to the increased frequency of hurricanes.

“Mr. Spock is much stronger than an ordinary human being.”

-Kirk, This Side of Paradise

I am almost 100% sure that Vulcan is either bigger or denser than Earth. Which would explain why Vulcans are so much stronger than Humans and other species that exist on similar gravity worlds.

Effects of a high-gravity planet or “Super-Earth” include:

Everything is shorter or has very strong foundations, plants, animals, structures, and people.

More “Armageddon” class asteroids would hit the planet (like the one that killed the dinosaurs and created the Gulf of Mexico)

Larger liquid mantle under the planet’s surface, higher pressure under the surface as well.

Weaker magnetic field due to lack of convection in the planet’s core (not to be confused with the mantle interacting with the planet’s crust). Which means a weaker atmosphere, lower magnetism in surface metals, and increased vulnerability to solar flares.

More volcanically and seismically active due the the increase in the mantle’s size and generated heat, more earthquakes, and more volcanic eruptions.

Would have to have a smaller sun but be closer in orbit to it than earth.

Extremely deep oceans, potentially with water under so much pressure at the bottom that it becomes solid like ice. Luckily Vulcan is not an ocean world, because the pressure would block the planet’s core from interacting with the atmosphere, which would prevent life as we know it from happening.

There is plenty of evidence for this on so many levels. We never see any plant life similar to trees on Vulcan. Nor animals significantly larger than Vulcans, the ones that are bigger are much more muscular. Vulcan’s sky is more red than blue because of the lack of oxygen molecules for the light from the sun to filter as blue. I actually headcanon that Spock is unusually tall for a Vulcan because of his human heritage (Leonard Nimoy was around 6ft tall) , and may have had heart and muscle problems in his teens and early adulthood while on Vulcan.

Perhaps Vulcans are the result of many more extinction level events than we are, contributing to their hardiness. Perhaps they are, evolutionarily, not too much older than we are, and had more incentive to develop extraterrestrial technology than we have, so that they could repel Armageddon Class meteors and defend their planet against Solar Flares? Space travel being born out of self-preservation rather than curiosity. Which would absolutely account for their attitudes in the beginning of Star Trek: Enterprise.

It could be that Vulcans still maintain a semi-nomadic lifestyle even today because their planet is so incredibly volatile. Unsentimental and utilitarian in anything less than the most sacred of architecture long before they adopted the teachings of Surak. Their own survival more valuable than any structure that would inevitably be damaged or destroyed by their planet’s harsh environment.

In summary, Vulcan is a Nightmare Planet because:

So, so many much natural disasters, like, so many, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, hurricanes, twisters, just, so many more than Earth.

Water is relegated to specific locations in the world rather than spread across it due to lack of flow and lower sea levels.

Extreme temperature changes, intense heat, intense cold, hard to breathe, stronger gravity.

Due to the planet’s hostility, there is a smaller diversity of life than we have here on earth, which means fewer and hardier food sources that, like Vulcans, are very difficult to kill.

So… How do they handle it? What features have they developed to adapt and thrive in such an inhospitable place?

First thing is first, lets talk about

BLOOD

“My hemoglobin is based on copper, not iron.”

-Spock, Obsession

Funny thing is Spock, it’s not hemoglobin at all! It’s hemocyanin! In fact, there are earth animals that have it, among them Horseshoe Crabs, crustaceans, mollusks and spiders!

Hemocyanin is blue when it hasn’t been exposed to oxygen, and blue-green when it has, according to some sources on Vulcans their blood is orangey red when unexposed to air and that’s why they have pink lips and so on, but we can brush that off as chemical variation within their hemocyanin. Better yet, maybe it’s trendy for Vulcans to wear pink lipstick nowadays, ‘cause Surak knows how horny Humans and Vulcans are for each other XD! Anyway!

Hemocyanin does quite a few things that our blood can’t, it’s uniquely built for high pressure, low oxygen environments, as well as endure temperature extremes like cold (not unlike nights on their planet). Not only that, but it coagulates and clots WAY faster than our blood. Which means wounds seal themselves off from harmful bacteria and stop bleeding much faster than hemoglobin. Pair that with the Vulcan ability to enter a healing torpor, no wonder Spock keeps surviving environments and wounds that would definitely have killed a human.

Now, the animals I listed don’t have veins, which for us carry oxygen around via hemoglobin, so it’s possible that the same difference that causes Vulcan blood to be a coppery orange-red beneath the skin, is the same reason they have veins. Allowing them to look more like us and lack the exoskeletons and deep ocean delving that their earth blood cousins have.

“The ship’s temperature is increasingly uncomfortable for me. I’ve adjusted the environment in my quarters to 125 degrees.”

-(Elderly) Spock, The Deadly Years

Oh goodie, the Vulcan blood temperature discourse has arrived, the age old question, are Vulcans warm-blooded or cold-blooded? The answer to this question is

YES

I am firmly in the small (but hopefully growing) camp Vulcans Are Heterothermic. Among the earth animals we know to be heterothermic are bumblebees, several species of bats, the opah fish, and the arctic ground squirrel. Of all these animals, despite the opposite temperature intensity of Vulcan’s environment, I’m basing how Vulcans function on the last one, the arctic squirrel.

Which means they can deliberately control their body temperature in accordance to the needs of their survival. I imagine, just as arctic ground squirrels can drop their body below zero as needed (entering what is called a “daily torpor”) Vulcans can do the same. In turn, they could possibly skyrocket their bodies to temperatures that would be a lethal fever for humans. Which makes both McCoy’s “nonexistent Vulcan metabolism” comments in various episodes, as well as describing his blood as “ice water” make sense. As well as Spock being able to handle the heightened body temperature caused by Henoch in “Return to Tomorrow”. It also explains why Spock was in far better shape than Bones in the freezing temperatures of the planet from “All Our Yesterdays”.

However, like arctic squirrel newborns, they start out as ectothermic (cold-blooded) which lends itself to the Vulcan infants needing even more skin to skin to survive than humans theory by @acesexualspock. Being born cold blooded would prevent them from immediately dying the second they were exposed to the dangerous extremes of Vulcan’s heat. I also think they slowly lose the ability to control their metabolic rate as they grow older, slowing down dramatically as they age, which is why Spock gets increasingly colder as he ages rapidly in “The Deadly Years”.

“The brightness of the Vulcan sun has caused the development of an inner eyelid.”

-Spock, Operation: Annihilate

I wanna thank @tribbleland for inspiring this part in particular.

I want to offer a special congratulations to furries people who let their love for anthro-cats bleed into their love for Vulcans, turns out Vulcans are very catlike! Like our feline Terran friends, Vulcans have what is called a Nicitating Membrane. It’s functions that would serve Vulcans well in their desert home include spreading moisture across the eye, protect the eye from small water and small debris (like sand for example), as well as protecting the eye from ultraviolet radiation, which is more or less what Spock said in that episode. Other animals that have Nicitating Membranes aside from felines is actually the majority of the animal kingdom, and primates (like us) are the exception and not the rule. I also subscribe to the idea that Vulcans have other desert dweller features like thick hair and eyelashes, sealable nostrils, big feet, a crepuscular sleep cycle (avoiding extreme midnight and midday temperatures), and a tough as nails digestive system!

As an added bonus fact since this section is pretty short: It makes purrfect sense for Vulcans to purr! In cats purring is an emotional regulator when they are angry or scared (Vulcans are ALL about regulating their emotions) as well as purring when they are happy. It is also a mechanism for healing themselves, their kittens, and their owners, the frequency at which cats purr (25-140 Hz) cover the same frequencies that are therapeutic for bone growth and fracture healing, pain relief, swelling reduction, wound healing, muscle growth and repair, tendon repair, and mobility of joints. I’m over here getting emotional about the mental image of like, Spock or Tuvok or smth sitting next to a wounded crewmember and just like, purring with a completely straight face and that is soft and just a little funny and I am emotionally compromised.

“And are it’s natives predatory?” “Not generally, but there have been exceptions.”

-Spock to Trelaine, The Squire of Gothos

Surprise! This isn’t just going to be about Vulcan dietary needs, it’s gonna be about animal behaviors and self-domestication as well! I was trying to think of herbivores that are capable of eating meat, and then this idea hit me like a bomb going of in my head-

Vulcans are like Hippos!

I don’t mean I think they used to be hippo-like (visually anyway) somewhere along the evolutionary line. I mean that they were probably big, extremely aggressive, pack roaming herbivores that are able to eat carrion when food is scarce. Have you ever seen a video of a group of Hippos smashing an alligator to smithereens? They kill more humans than any solitary predator on the African continent! What about a murder of crows killing a cat that injured one of them, or a group of bison saving a calf from a lion?! Herbivores can be insanely aggressive while still being social, plant-eating animals.

With that in mind, let’s talk about self-domestication! This is something that we humans (and to an extent, cats too) did way back in our biology according to some studies, we bred out aggression and bred in cooperativeness and curiosity. Cats, while partially domesticated by us, started looking for mates that were more sociable so that their offspring could exist closer to humans (and their food) as well as to tolerate other cats. While I do think Vulcans self-domesticated to a degree, I do not think they were able to do so nearly to the same extent as humans or our deliberately domesticated companions. Vulcan is a harsh, violent, and unforgiving planet, even more so than Earth, if Vulcans were naturally as friendly and curious as we Humans are now, they would not have survived as a species.

I believe this is why their emotions are so primal and strong, and things like Pon Farr and their unusually high wariness of the new and unexpected still exist so strongly. How do they live together in such high numbers and develop a functional society? They developed other means of coping as a work-around the impracticality of decreasing aggression!

“Call it a deep understanding of the way things happen to Vulcans.”

-Spock, The Immunity Syndrome

So, how do you have a species as aggressive, unforgiving, and frighteningly strong as Vulcans keep from completely destroying itself (aside from Surak’s teachings)? You take the empathy that humans already have, turn it up to 11, and tack on every evolutionary possibility to increase it. We already know how the Earth comparisons for Vulcan empathy: the extreme vitality of touch for the survival and emotional stability, cats purring to heal each other and themselves (and regulate emotions), nonverbal communication, the ancestral instincts of an infant animal being able to walk days after its born. What if we had all of these traits in remarkable spades, Vulcans certainly seem to! (Be prepared, the science starts getting a little squidgy because there are no real world comparisons and neurology research is very jargon heavy)

Electricity is a fundamental part of the biology of nearly all living things, it allows synapses to fire, regulates our internal organs, and gives us our senses of touch and movement. Skin to skin is so incredibly vital to the survival of infants, and the emotional stability for adults, that needing any more touch could be impractical and counterintuitive. So what if we got more from less? What if our sense of touch, and the acuteness of being able to read the emotions of others from body language and touch manifested as a form of what looks like from an outsider’s perspective, telepathy!

Now what if the radius of the sensation of touch could be extended much farther, say being able to sense someone to the same intensity I described in the last paragraph, like, through a wall or from across a room? What if you could connect to other lifeforms with the same ability like a chain circuit that could connect a whole species together in one giant circuitboard? I just described what Vulcans call the kwar’ma’khon, the telepathic energy that connects all Vulcans to each other!

Imagine having this same intense telepathic connection to someone for an extended period of time, like a t’hy’la or Bond Mate. What if you had a relatively easy to master non-lethal attack against other members of your species, that comes to you easily due to your intrinsic understanding of nerves and touch, like the Vulcan Nerve Pinch. In turn, what if, through the intensity of this connection you could transfer everything you knew and saw and felt to another person in the event of your death. That way, if you survived the harshness of your world without dying violently or unexpectedly, you could deliberately pass on that knowledge and those instincts to your next of kin, like the Katra. (thanks @distractedducky @spacedancer1701 & @find-me-in-outer-space)

Now, that’s A LOT of empathy on top of A LOT of aggression, if you don’t have a work around for any of these, as a species you’d be rendered a complete emotional wreck pretty much 24/7 (or whatever the time cycles for Vulcan are). Which is where @ineffablebuddies theory that Vulcans can control, or at least mitigate their incredibly strong emotional reactions the same way they control their nervous system and metabolic rate. Which is how they are able to be touch telepathic, able to enter a torpor at will, and be heterothermic in the first place. The only reason Vulcans come off as unemotional to us is because we simply do not see and feel the way that they can. Unlike us, because of their ability to control their own internal chemistry, if they follow Surak’s teachings and/or Syrranite ideology, they can take that emotional regulation to the extreme.

(BIG EXHALE) Congratulations on getting through this insanely long post! I hope you enjoyed it, if you want sources on any of my non-tumblr post research just let me know in the notes. LLAP! 💚🖖🏻💚