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zozo-01 · 3 days ago

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"humanity will never lose hope (but you're not that human anymore, are you?)"

Or: Finding out that you lover never changes, no matter which world you stand on in 12.4k words.

Oh my God, of course my first full fic in a year is over ten thousand words. Oh well, I love Phainon and I love Kevin, so that this as my love letter to both of my favourite Hoyo men.

Shout out to @baeshijima who I've been torturing with snippets for the last few months and @horrorscoupes and @gingerbreadmonsters who I have also been sending snippets to, except they have no idea what's going on. (Join the dark side please I beg.)

CW: Angst, Hurt/Kind of Comfort, Bittersweet Endings, Alternate Timeline, Not Canon Compliant, kevin kaslana haunting the reader for the rest of over, phainon is so clueless and in love, Unrequited love, more two people using each other to fill the void, Mentions of Self-Harm, Suicidal Ideation, we love self-deprication!, Marriage, Thoughts of Motherhood, Kevin's reader uses she/her pronouns, Phainon's reader uses they/them pronouns, Amphoreus has me aching for more, reader is the PE's Herrscher of the End, she Kiana'd the Herrscher and that's how she's still alive, Writing this before the ending of amphoreus so I could be very very right, or very very wrong

click here for the ao3 link!!!

It was just your luck that the lance that struck you out of the sky had separated you from your companions. Seriously, doesn't this planet know that it's common courtesy to radio in before you deem the flying object as a threat? This was not a good look for Amphoreus, and you shiver to think about how the rest of your trip will go.

For once, you would appreciate it if the Express could take a nice vacation by the beach. Or in a metropolitan area. Literally, anything that doesn't have to include saving or dooming the world you're standing on. You'd like to think that you've had enough world-altering missions for a lifetime.

Stumbling out of the rubble of the train car, you take in your surroundings. Perhaps back in its heyday, Amphoreus must have been a gorgeous place, with marble statues littered across the land of the heroes that have long protected their home. It reminded you of the Ancient Greek ruins that you were obsessed with. It's strange, to see familiar sights on every planet you visited, yet being so far from home. You wonder if those ancient ruins survived the destruction you brought on.

(The Honkai never left behind survivors. Even those who lived to tell the tale had their souls ripped from them. You were no exception, but that didn't mean that you wouldn't take back what was rightfully yours. Your journey to heal from your past felt like a glacier. You hope that your current comrades— no, friends, could help you move on from your past.)

You wander around the temple, not sure of what to do next. Worry filled you for your companions, not because they weren't capable, but because of the collective stupidity that seemed to arise whenever young members of the train were trailblazing. In theory, March being back at the train and Dan Heng's rational self should be enough to keep them safe, but Stelle has become such a wildcard, you don't put anything past her. She and her bat were capable of putting the entire world at risk. You were surprised that no one had come up to you to arrest you because of something she did.

At the end of the day, those two were your companions and it was best to put your trust in them. You just hope that they don't do anything stupid without you knowing. At least with you there, there would be an adult to make sound decisions. You chuckle to yourself, wondering when during your life you of all people decided to become the responsible one.

To be honest, you always felt odd about considering the younger Express members as peers. Because yes, you seem roughly the same age, with your youthful looks and durable limbs, always eager to seek out the next challenge. But if anyone looked into your eyes, really looked into your soul, they could see that time has ravaged you in ways no mortal should have gone through. Fifty thousand years is a long life to live for anyone, let alone a human. Yet you spent that time in isolation, your only company being the monster you swore you'd never become.

(You had only two reasons to endure. Your love for humanity and your love for him. The world survived, no thanks to you. He wasn't as lucky.)

Enough pondering, there were more pressing matters that you needed to take care of. Like finding Stelle and Dan Heng and figuring out how the hell to get out of here without causing too much trouble.

You were careful to walk through the ruins of the land, flinching at the crumbling stone surrounding you. The lack of light didn't help either in finding out where to go. You were hoping that eventually, there would be some ruckus– loud whining from Stelle or maybe Dan Heng's dragon guiding you to the rest of your team. Unfortunately, no such sights or sounds have reached your senses. Or maybe it is fortunate that no chaos started. Yet.

Part of you wanted to use your powers to just fly up and track Dan Heng and Stelle. It would be so easy and would waste unnecessary time. Time that you could be spending on figuring out what the hell was the deal with Amphoreus and how to contact the Astral Express. You can almost hear Welt reminding you why that's a bad idea, not that you don't disagree with him.

"We don't know what effect your Herrscher powers could have in this place and it looks like this universe doesn't even know what the Honkai is. We don't want to start another eruption."

You sigh. What a shame. All the power in the world and you're relegated to using some watered-down version of it in the form of Aeons and their paths. You wouldn't have had it any other way.

Absolutely would you never dare to use your true powers in this relatively peaceful universe. There is lingering fear left in you over the events of your rebirth. You wish you could say that you didn't remember anything, that the evil sealed within you had granted you the mercy of losing consciousness when they took control. But destiny did not care that you didn't choose this fate, it punished you all the same.

The bodies of your friends, dare you call them family, carelessly slewed across the grey land. Hands that once held yours in dance with music in the air, could barely hold onto their weapons that they swore they'd use to save humanity. One by one, they fell like the brightest shooting stars until a garden of corpses surrounded you and your beloved. He was covered in blood, of his own and his friends, with burning anguish in his glacier eyes. You remember teasing him that red was never his colour.

The ring on your finger was a cold reminder of his warmth. Your eyes tear up as the blue diamond reminds you of his eyes.

You strengthen your resolve and wipe your tears. Enough about the past! What's done is done and all you can do is prevent it from happening again. He's not here anymore and there's no use crying about it right now. You made a promise to his descendant that not only will you live, but you will live long enough until the Honkai has been properly defeated and that your powers will not be passed down to you in the next cycle.

(You'll do your crying when you're alone in bed, pretending that his arms are wrapped around you. Oh, how you would sacrifice planets to bring him back if only to see him one last time. Hopefully, should you be granted another chance, your reunion will be less bloody. One could argue that you aren't at your best when you have your lover's lance piercing through you.)

Why is it that being on Amphoreus is causing these memories to flood your brain again? Perhaps it is because this is the first time since you joined the Express that you have been left alone in your thoughts. Ever since your self-imposed imprisonment, you detested the silence, having been left alone with your thoughts for far too long. It's part of the reason why you loved Stelle's presence. Never a dull moment with her and it was enough for you to push down whatever feelings would bubble up.

Very rarely did you wish that you were more Herrscher than human if only to get rid of those pesky feelings that leave you gasping for air. Disgusting.

Maybe the quiet is doing you some good, giving you the time and space to properly process your emotions instead of dismissing them for later. You let yourself indulge in the good memories, reminding yourself that your past wasn't entirely doom and gloom. That's what made the tragedies of your life all the more painful. The sleepovers you had with Elysia, the pointless yet invigorating debates with Su and the wheat fields you and Kevin would walk down as children.

(Wait a minute, you never knew Kevin as a kid. You had met him shortly after he joined Fire MOTH. And even so, both of you grew up in metropolitan areas with no farmland in sight.)

(These weren't your memories, so who did they belong to?)

Before you can think too hard over the maybe false memories, you hear the screams of children coming from the ruins ahead of you. Without thinking you rush ahead, your heroic instincts taking over.

You turn the corner and find a young boy and a young girl, with the boy standing in between her and the stone monster. He raised his flimsy sword to try and fight the monster off, with fear and resignation in his eyes. You knew that look all too well. Even if he doesn't make it out of here, he can make sure that this little girl can get to safety. Fat chance kid, there will be no more dying kids on your watch.

"Hey!" you yell at the stone creature to catch its attention. Thankfully, it was enough to take its attention off the kids and onto you. You don't feel any fear as it hulks over, its loud footsteps and towering figure doing nothing more than making you chuckle. Silly, silly monster. Didn't it know that it sealed its face by facing something more terrifying than itself?

You didn't think twice before throwing your sword towards it, following the sword to make sure it landed on its target. You use the handle of your weapon as a pushing-off point for a backflip, making sure its blade sinks as deep as it can into the monster. The monster crumbles back into the ground as you approach the two children, kneeling down to make yourself less threatening.

"You kids alright?" you ask, eyes tracking their faces for any visible injuries. Luckily the children didn't suffer any severe injuries, the worst only being what you assume are going to be sore limbs from all the running they did today. Their nods of agreement quelled any lingering worry that you had. You add another mental note about the things you learned about Amphoreus so that you can somewhat communicate with the locals.

But before you can ask them why they were out here alone, the statues that you didn't notice earlier crumbled their hard shells to reveal the monsters within them. Now you're surrounded by five statue monsters and with two children to look after. On the bright side, these two might be easier to take care of than your fellow Trailblazers.

"I don't have time for this," you mumble to yourself, pushing the children behind you. It was just your luck that you had to face off against enemies in this world, with no knowledge of what you were going up against and with no backup. (No, the little boy and his poor excuse of a sword do not count as backup in your books.) It mattered little though, you have gone up against the worst in the past and you will continue to encounter worse in the future.

More and more statues stalk closer towards you, with their clunky movements causing the children to quiver in fear, mumbling something about Nikador's wrath, whatever that meant. Part of you was considering using your natural powers to make quick work of the statues, already annoyed that you've wasted enough time here. Sure there are consequences if you accidentally triggered an eruption, but those can be dealt with later.

With a snap of your fingers, portals opened around you, orange in colour and slicing their way into this universe. Out came a lance for each creature and in a blink of an eye they crumbled before you, turning back into the stone they came from. That was one problem done thankfully, and if all of Amphoreus' enemies were that easy to deal with, then you should have no problem traversing the rest of the planet, if you could even consider it a planet. You just hope that you won't have to use any more of your powers.

You turn around to make sure the children you are protecting are okay, but instead of fear, you are met with excited expressions, like they hadn't almost died from a falling rock. The young girl started jumping and dancing around, while the boy pumped his fist in the air.

"That was so cool! The way you summon those flying lances and beat those titankins. You have to be a Chrysos heir– no a Demigod! Just like the ones mom used to tell us about!" The child went on about Titans and prophecies that you couldn't wrap your head around entirely. This is not what you meant when you had wanted a crash course on Amphoreus history.

"I'm… not a Chrysos Heir, just someone trying to find her way through this area." You didn't want to break this kid's delusion, but it would be better than trying to lie your way and break his heart later on.

(Come to think of it, why didn't they immediately single you out as someone beyond the stars? You clearly don't look or sound like you belong here, but these children were willing to believe that you were one of them. You were about to introduce yourself as a Trailblazer, but something told you that it would land you into major trouble later on. Besides, do these people even know of the Trailblaze? Let's not confuse them anymore.)

"Oh," the boy visibly deflated, but immediately perked back up. "But that doesn't matter, thank you for saving us!" The young boy and girl launched themselves at you to give you a hug. You didn't know what to do except give them an awkward pat on the back. Still, they endeared you enough to earn a small smile on your face.

"It's not a big deal," you said as you kneeled down. "As long as you two are safe, then that's all that matters. Where are your parents though?" You wonder what parents would be neglectful enough to leave their children in a monster-infested area in this eternally dark place.

You regret asking that question so casually though, as the young girl's eyes tear up and she lets out small sniffles. She puts her hand over her mouth to quiet herself, but it doesn't do much to muffle her cries. The boy on the other hand looked away to the distance and bit his lips, trying to keep it from quivering. You commend his attempt to put on a strong front in front of his sister, but you could see right through his facade.

"Our parents were killed by the Black Tide while we were trying to escape to Okhema," the young boy murmured, almost like if he said it quietly enough, he could somehow will them back to existence. It's a hope that you had before.

You didn't know how to comfort them. Even before your exile, your military upbringing always made it difficult for you to comfort civilians. In your line of work, where death is so common it could be counted as a part of your squadron, all you could do was bury your feelings along with your comrade and pray that you won't have to bring home another corpse. And that was the best-case scenario, better than having to look into their infected eyes and do the honours for yourself.

(Elysia was always good at comforting people, and you miss having her presence to take over in situations like this. Even Kevin's awkward fumbling when it came to this was charming enough to make people laugh and make them feel better. Not you though. No one wants comfort from a monster.)

You shake your head. You're not a monster anymore and these kids need more comfort than you need pity.

"I'm sorry for your loss, but we have to keep going." You wipe the tears falling from their faces, letting them put the full weight of their heads into your hands. With a softer voice, you continue. "I know it's hard, but it's not safe here. We'll go to Okhema and figure out the rest there, okay?"

They nod their heads and you can see the resolve building itself in their eyes. The boy picked up his sword and raised it in the air with a triumphant cry.

"Yeah! We'll get to Okhema and make the Black Tide pay for taking our home!" he loudly declared. Without waiting for you or his sister, he strutted away in what you hope is in the direction of Okhema. Not that you would stand a better chance if they relied on you on where to go.

"I'm sorry about my brother," the girl sighed. "Once he gets something in his head, he doesn't stop until he makes it come true." This sounds like an issue she's been long aware of.

"It's okay," you say as you stand up with a smile. You hold your hand out to her for her to hold, and once she does, you both take off to follow the brother. "As long as you stand by his side, you two will be able to do anything."

"That's right!" she hollered out, jumping in place before holding onto your hand. Their bond endeared you, your heart always warming when you see family stick together. You wonder about your own family back home, before you were thrown into Fire MOTH. They had long since passed due to the Honkai, slightly your fault. But your new family, the Flame-Chasers, had effortlessly taken their place. For longer than some of these planets have been around when you think of family, you think of the twelve shining soldiers standing in front of you. Ready were they to die for humanity, and you wished you were given the blessing to join them. Not yet though, you still have old debts to pay and retribution to collect.

Taking these kids to Okhma has given you two things. The first was company to stop you from slipping into your thoughts and musings. With how loud and talkative they were, there wasn't a silent moment left for you to fill.

The second was some of the answers to the questions you have about this world.

The most important thing you learn is the names of the two children you saved. The young boy introduced himself and Aris and his younger sister as Pallas. Both hailed from the distant lands of Castrum Kremnos but never got to visit their homeland, as it had been infected by the Black Tide many years ago. Their ancestors had moved the Janusopolis, which was deemed safer due to the protection of the Titan, Janus. However, even that mighty city fell, as you were walking on her ruins today.

They mention the Black Tide, an evil that apparently has been taking over the entirety of this world. Apparently, it infects every living thing it touches, turning its lifeforms into dark and twisted versions of themselves, hellbent on consuming and destroying everything in its path. Supposedly it has no master, acting with no drive except the sole desire of annihilation. (If there was a camera nearby, you would have stared into it, asking the audience if they thought this was funny to them.)

They spoke of the twelve Titans that ruled over Amphoreus, the miracles they brought on and the devout worship from its peoples. As Children of Castrum Kremnos, both Aris and Pallas worshiped the Strife Titan, Nikador. Aris especially was excited to tell their tales of war and battle and of honour and sacrifice. Pallas had to be the one to solemnly let you know that the Titan had been infected by the Black Tide in their eternal battle with it. Now all that remains is a mindless beast that attacks anything living.

Finally, they explained the Chrysos Heirs and Demigods, the thing they accused you of being. Apparently, there was a prophecy that there would be twelve Chrysos Heirs, beings of golden blood, who would assume the authority of the Titans and lead this nation to an era of eternal peace.

The more and more they told you about the world that you crash-landed on, the more uncomfortable you were over how eerily similar your life was to this universe's destiny. You knew that parallel universes meant parallel timelines, and that your story would be remixed across dimensions. You remember how Acheron reacted to your presence and your solemn sigh when you found out that you didn't survive in her story either. But you're one crazy coincidence away from grabbing your Trailblazers and nopeing the fuck out of this planet. You do not need to be traumatized– or you suppose retraumatized.

(You come to the realization that in every universe, within every timeline, you do not get a happy ending. Your only regret is that it seems like you keep on dragging your lover into your doomed destiny. Misery does indeed love company.)

On the bright side, Aris and Pallas did answer some of your questions. That still didn't solve the issue of your missing companions. You only hope that they haven't gotten into any trouble.

The marble gates on Okhema greet you and your mini companions, and relief courses through your veins because finally, something is going right. Aris even ran ahead in excitement, ready to take on his new home. But he didn't see the falling stone in his peripheral vision, his tunnel vision set on the crumbling gate. Luckily you did, jumping into the air to slice to rock before it could fall on the poor boy.

Of course, just your luck. Trouble had to find you first.

You were skeptical that Okhema was considered a safe haven when all you could see were those same stone monsters that you saved the children from. Titankin, you remember Aris calling them that.

You push the two children behind you, eyes darting back and forth between the Titankin surrounding the three of you. You could see the guards past the hordes of statues, but you had a feeling that they wouldn't be able to get to you in time. No matter, you get cornered once, you get cornered a thousand times.

Through the gaps of the stone wall closing in on you, you can see what you assume are Okheman guards trying to fight off the Titankin. You were just about to summon more of your lances, but before you could, you and the children were surrounded by a wall of red crystal.

You couldn't see through the solid red crystal, but you could hear the sounds of the Titankin crumbling back into the stone they came from. There was the sound of a man grunting, but it was so soft that you assumed that he wasn't exerting too much effort like these stone statues were nothing to him.

(Jealousy bubbled in you. That would be you had your powers not come with destructive consequences.)

A moment later, there was silence. The three of you stayed still with bated breath, eager to discover the result of the battle. One crack appeared in the crystal, followed by another. You throw yourself over the children to prevent them from the shards of the crumbling wall falling around you.

You look up and in the distance stands the man who was responsible for this destruction.

Blond hair with red dyed tips, he had a tall stature with muscle and scars you could assume he only gained through constant battle. The fabric pooling around his lower body did nothing to hide the red markings on his chest, a warning for his enemies to stay away. But what captured you were his eyes. A deep red with a fire that you have only seen in one man, a very long time ago.

Kalpas…?

You dare not speak his name out loud, not wanting to make this more real than it already was.

But it seemed like you weren't the only one staring at a ghost.

A look of recognition? Of longing? Of fear? You couldn't tell because it disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. He only gave himself a split second of vulnerability before he reminded himself that he was a soldier and this was a battlefield. The only reunion either of you has time for is the one you will have with death. This was a sentiment you are all too familiar with.

"Lord Mydeimos!" Aris exclaimed. You trusted his judgement enough to give this man the barest amount of benefit of the doubt.

Mydeimos looked you up and down, taking note of your foreign clothing. His eyes singled out the golden ticket pendant you have, and you could only assume that he'd seen the ticket recently.

"Your comrades are on their way to Nikador at Marmoreal Palace," Mydeimos stated. You sighed with relief. Dan Heng and Stelle were alive and they had some sort of help with them. Still unnerved over the ghost standing in front of you, you looked back at the two kids standing behind you, your mind already set on your next steps.

"She can't fight Nikador! She's not an Heir," Pallas cried out, moving to stand in front of you. She was trying to stop you from what she believes is you throwing your life away. Her older brother joined her protest, saying how it would be better if Mydeimos went and fought Nikador himself.

"You'll look after the children?" you ask, but it is more of a command than a question. You made sure to reflect the light of the sun against your blade, making it visible and knowing what would happen to him if the children weren't safe.

He gave no response except for a quick nod, and that was enough for you, so long as he understood the consequences of his failure.

The children were in tears when you told them that you would go to Marmoreal Palace. They cry and plead for you to stay and have someone else deal with this, but you were never good at letting other people help you.

"I will be okay." You gave them a hug, trying to pour a little bit of relief into their bodies so they'd stop worrying. "Stay with Lord Mydeimos, he'll keep you safe," you ordered them both. You pull away from the hug and they nod, having learned that following your directions has kept them alive so far.

"This is not a goodbye. I will find you two again." This wasn't going to be another empty promise that you were going to break.

"You better come back to us!" Aris demanded, before running to hide behind the blond man, Pallas following closely behind him.

Before you could ask where the fuck Marmoreal Palace even was, a golden thread appeared out of nowhere, leading your eyes to a large building on the horizon. Well, that answered your question.

Mydeimos may have mentioned something about Aglaea guiding your way, but you didn't care to stay and listen. Immediately, you run off to follow the golden thread, hoping that you'll be able to get there in time to save their asses once again.

But even at your top speed, it still took you time to run over to the Palace. Time that you used to absorb the fact that you just saw Kalpas again. It was one thing for you or Kevin or Elysia had counterparts across the universe, but Kalpas? It meant that there was a chance that the rest of the Flame-Chasers were alive. That you would see him again, even if it's not the man you fell in love with.

It was one thing to hear Acheron's story. This is going to be a whole trainwreck that you weren't emotionally prepared enough to deal with. But then again, how do you prepare to see the friends that you carelessly murdered? Were you ready to face your sins, Destroyer?

You don't know which outcome you hope for more. That your past would just leave you alone and die just like your world did. Or that you would see your friends again, albeit in a completely different scenario. You would do anything to see Kevin, yes, but only if it's your Kevin. The boy who would hold all your shopping bags in one hand just so that he can keep one hand free to hold you. The man who held you to his chest to stop you from ending your life prematurely. Who held you in your final moments.

That's who you want, not some cheap imitation that could never reach your man. No offence to this world's Kevin.

You hear the grunts inside the palace before you see the mechanical creature surrounded by the fountain and the same golden thread that guided you here. To be honest, the Titan didn't seem that impressive. Sure it's massive, but size never equals power and you know that one slash from your greatsword would be enough to finish it off.

(History may remember the Judgment of Shamash as Kevin's weapon, but you and the sword knew who was its true owner. He was just keeping it warm, sharp and ready for your return.)

Your greatsword feels like home in your hands, and you revel in her power coursing through your veins.

("She's just as beautiful and destructive as you are." An amused voice spoke up, followed by strong arms wrapping around your waist. A mop of white hair tickled the skin on your neck. You wish you could bottle this moment and experience it for an eternity.)

You could see your two companions, as well as a white-haired knight fighting against the Titan. You knew what your next action should be.

Without a chance to hesitate about your own decision, you charge forward toward the Titan, flames blazing behind you. They gave you enough speed and strength to slice Nikador in half. You don't see their dismembered body, but the thud on the ground gives you the impression that you won the fight.

It was strange that they went down so easily, but your worried thoughts were cut off by your gray-haired chaos machine jumping into your arms.

"You're alive!" Stelle held you up in her arms, squeezing the Herrscher core out of you. You could feel your lungs collapsing in your chest with the strength of her hug. It was only when Dan Heng came over to pry your favourite baseball player off of you that you could finally breathe.

"It's good to see you too," you say with fondness. Things are always lively when you have your fellow Astral Express members around, and you know your mission on Amphoreus was just about to get more interesting. "I trust that you have been keeping out of trouble." The guilty look on Dan Heng's face and the nervous chuckle from Stelle made you sigh. You wouldn't have your idiots act any other way.

"Well, we had help," Dan Heng explained. "We were lucky to meet some of the locals before fighting the Titankin." You're grateful that they were able to have more guidance than you did. Not that you weren't thankful for Aris and Pallas. You should probably check on them sooner than later.

"Please! We did most of the work anyways." Stelled crossed her arms, a pout on her face. She pointed to someone or something behind you with an accusatory point. "The only thing Phainon did was steal my bat and break Cloud Piercer!"

You sigh, already knowing that Stelle added her usual dramatic flair to what has happened. You make a note to ask Dan Heng for a more accurate recount of events. This poor Phainon didn't have to catch her backhanded comments, especially if he was keeping them safe.

You turn around to thank this white knight, but you can't get the words out once you see his face.

Snow white hair. Piercing blue eyes. Even his clothes were a close replica of Kevin's. You almost didn't want him to speak, in fear that he also sounded like him. This was it, the one thing you feared. Knowing that there were alternate versions of your lover. A million lives that he can lead. A million heartbreaks waiting to happen.

It seems that this Kevin– Phainon had the same thoughts going through his head. But unlike you, his body couldn't hold the weight of his pain. He fell to his knees and it took everything in you to not hold him to your chest. The familiar words of comfort lay at the tips of your tongue, but they wouldn't be heard by the person who they were meant to, just a familiar stranger.

"Starlight..." his voice wobbled. Your soul left your body, leaving behind an aching heart at the sight of his watery eyes. Or maybe it was just your tears blurring your vision. Another memory you kept buried forced its way into your consciousness.

("Starlight, really?" You raise your eyebrows at the cheesy name. "Can't you be a little less romantic?")

(His laugh or the heavenly trumpets filled the air. He took a string from your hoodie (that you were borrowing from him) and kissed it, his old habits never leaving him. Kevin knew he was able to touch you, the sub-zero temperature not affecting you. But ever the gentleman, he did everything he could to keep you safe. Really, that should have been your job.)

("Your eyes sparkle under the stars, and you are the only light who is keeping me tethered to this world." He let go of the drawstring and pulled you in for a kiss. You put your hands around his neck and swayed in his arms, overwhelmed by the rare peace your snowstorm brought you.)

("You're making it harder to pull away from you," you mumble against his lips. You had to go to a briefing for a solo mission in an hour, but you weren't ignorant of the double meaning of your words. You knew he was too smart to let it go over his head. With every Herrscher that fell, you could feel the Honkai tightening its grip around your soul. Despite everything you could do to fight it, everyone knew it was only a matter of time before the Honkai took over and you reset the universe.)

(You had it drilled into your conscious that it would be better for you to die in some corner if only to buy this world some time.)

(He absolutely hated that sentiment, going borderline feral any time someone brought up that cursed plan. The one time that you had brought it up, you weren't allowed to leave his bed for a week, for fear that if he let you go, you would go to the void and he would have no choice but to follow you. You never want him dying on your behalf. Humanity needs its hero and you were not selfish enough to take that away from it.)

("So don't go," he growled, kissing you with more passion this time. He pulled you closer, chest firmly pressed up against yours. Even if he knew what was to come, you know that he would forsake any prophecy to keep you here.)

(This kiss was everything you wished you had time to tell each other. I love you. I want you. I miss you, even though you're standing in front of me. I'm scared. I don't know what's coming next. I wish things were different.)

(I love you. I love you. I love you.)

(For the longest time, you thought that this would be enough for you. That you could hold onto these memories to keep you warm.)

"Ms. (Y/N)..."

Dan Heng's voice snapped you out of your trip down memory lane. You didn't even realize the golden-haired lady appearing right in front of you.

You clear your throat and wipe the tears from your eyes. This was all getting too much for you, and you were desperate to break something to make you feel better. That didn't exclude you. But your team needed you to be on your best behaviour, even if it was just to have a steady leader to guide them through this mission.

"I'm fine, Dan Heng," you whispered to him. You knew he wasn't a fool to miss your shaky smile, but you were thankful that he had the tact to at least ask about it later.

"New allies of Okhema, welcome to Amphoreus." The golden-haired lady spoke up, her voice soothing your early stress and anxieties. It reminded you of how Aponia used to casually manipulate the Fire MOTH soldiers to stop harassing you, saying that it was only in her interest to have someone in power indebted to you. Looks like you were finally getting the chance to pay her back for everything she has done for you.

"While this welcome banquet is far from elegant, it has helped to remove any misgivings we had," she— Aglaea, continued. You side-eyed Dan Heng and Stelle, hoping that her doubts were due to her own skepticism and not any actions taken by the two. "From this moment forth, you shall be treated as distinguished guests of the holy city and the Chrysos heirs."

'Nice to be welcomed from the start,' you thought to yourself.

There is something odd about her beautiful eyes, seeming unfocused. They look like they were looking through you rather than at you. The whispers from two trailblazers behind you confirmed that they picked up on that fact too.

"Curious about my eyesight?" she asks, and you note her heightened perception. Typical of someone who is the alternate universe version of Aponia, and you make sure to tell the other two to keep your unflattering thoughts to yourself. Especially Stelle. Lord knows what's going to come out of her mouth.

She went on to explain how every Chrysos Heirs had an ability that was unique to each individual. How she doesn't rely on traditional sight to perceive the world around you. Perhaps it wasn't the exact same manipulation that Aponia was able to achieve, but it did make you feel wary of someone who can 'hear' conversation from across the city.

There was something else about her eyes that you noticed. They were seemingly dead, with no emotion in them. But they still looked at you with a sad longing— it made you feel sick to your stomach. Can these people stop looking at you with pity? Do they not know of the disaster that you would bring to them?

You tried to ignore the gaze Phainon was giving you, his icy eyes giving off heat that could only rival the sun.

"A manifestation of Nikador…" Phainon spoke up with disdain in his voice. You were so close to ripping his vocal cords out just to end your suffering. How dare he steal your lover's voice and force you to listen to it. An indignant and petty part of you hoped that he was suffering as much as you were. You had a feeling that he was. "Could it be that my trial has not arrived yet?" he asked, more to himself than to anyone else.

"By following the threads of fate, you have begun to write the opening chapter of your story. How do you feel?" Aglaea countered his question with her own.

"Truth be told, I don't feel any different," he answered. "I anticipated a greater challenge." You roll your eyes, of course, he would say that. Were all versions of Kevin so willing to take on the greatest challenge on their own?

You tune out the rest of their conversation, not really caring about the plans they had to counter the invasion.

What? The plan was a success and there were few casualties. Back in your world, this was seen as a blessing.

Besides, you need more time to process truly what the fuck is going on. You try not to, but you can't help but spare small glances towards Phainon. It aggravates you how truly and utterly similar he was to Kevin. He would always joke with you that it would always be you two in every universe, that his soul was tied to yours for eternity. Mei would pipe up with some smart and cynical comment about how technically every possibility exists under String Theory.

("Mei!" he whined, sending a glare to the poor girl. "I was trying to woo her!")

("You're such a dumbass," you said. It didn't stop you from smiling like a fool. "I'm already your partner, you don't need to woo me." You ruffle his hair and pinch his cheek. God, he was adorable— and he's yours. Just yours.)

("But I want to treat you right, starlight," he pouted, forehead resting on yours. "Want to be the man that is deserving of you." For him, you would relive every single awful and forced action the Honkai put you through for him.)

(Before you could say anything, a beach ball hit the back of your lover's head. He rubbed it and glared at the idiot who was dumb enough to ruin his moment with you.)

("You're a dead man Su!" he yelled, racing straight towards the scholar. You were scared that he was going to use his full might against the poor man. God. You love your man so fucking much.)

You scoffed, thanking the Lord that Welt wasn't on this mission. The old man would have suffered heart attack after heart attack for every new revelation.

Your amusement wasn't as quiet as you thought.

"Is something funny?" Aglaea asks, raising her eyebrow towards. Oh fuck, it would be so embarrassing if you were the one who started the trouble.

"It was nothing, my lady." You clear your throat. "My mind tends to wander." The smile Phainon gave you didn't go over your head. Even Aglaea shook her head in amusement.

"Distinguished guests, since you have spared no effort in aiding the holy city, I will naturally take care of you as well." How sweet of her— oh, like hell you're going to take her offer her at face value. But still, you could use a little R&R. "I've woven many unforeseen events into the tapestry of fate, this is but one instance." Always the wildcard, never the intended.

"Thank you for your hospitality, my lady." You bowed your head in appreciation. You glare at the other two the same way a mother would glare when her children forgot to thank someone. Thankfully you trained them well enough to pick up on your signal. You turn back to Aglaea. "Truly it was our pleasure to help out however we can."

"You can find me at Marmoreal Market after you've grown tired of listening to her tales," Phainon offers, but he hesitates to look you in your eyes. You didn't take any offence since you were struggling with the same thing. "In any case, I owe you my hospitality."

"We look forward to you treating us, Phainon." The softness in your voice wasn't intended, but it bled its way regardless of your best effort. "Just to warn you, this one will make a dent in your wealth if you treat us to food," you quip while pointing to Stelle, earning you a pinch and a pout from the baseballer.

He didn't say anything to respond, but he walked away with a wistful and painful smile on his face.

"Now then, where should we begin?" Aglaea said, and you don't miss the challenge in her voice.

After placing the Trailblaze Beacon down, Aglaea took you to the centre of Marmoreal Palace. You stand underneath the fountain listening to the spirit water tell the story of this land. Many of the details lined up with what Aris and Pallas had told you, but it filled in some of the gaps that they had left out. You hope that they have found a safe place for them to stay.

"The way up from here leads to a bath that the Council granted exclusively to the Chrysos Heirs," she explains as your group walks back to the waterfall. "I'm willing to make an exception, considering you're guests from beyond the sky…"

"But you have your traditions to maintain," you finish her thought with your arms crossed.

"Precisely," she confirms. Her eyes lingered on Stelle, clearly wanting her to go to the baths with her. But you think that she wouldn't do anything without your express permission.

"Go up with her Stelle, me and Dan Heng will wait down here for you." You didn't take your eyes off of Aglaea with a clear intention in your eyes. If anything happened to her, you would tear Amphoreus up with your own bare hands. You found yourself giving out more threats than you have in past missions. You couldn't help it, this world is designed to aggravate you to no end.

These people may have the skin of your family, but they were still unknown threats to you. Not that it mattered. You killed your friends once, and you could do it again.

(Yes, princess, the voices spoke up in your head. Return to your roots. Return to the purpose of your existence.)

"You have a considerate partner." She gestures to the elevator platform. "Follow me." You watch the two go up and away to the private baths.

Not even a second goes by when Dan Heng voices his concerns.

"Are you alright?" he hesitantly asks. "Ever since you saw Phainon, you've been more distracted, and don't think I didn't see the threat in your eyes that you've been giving everyone."

"It's complicated," you sigh. The truth was going to come out eventually. "Do you remember how me and Welt were taken aback when we met Acheron?" You turn to look at him as you wait for his answer.

"I do, Welt said that she was like someone you met on your world," he answers.

"That's right." You bite your lip trying to find the words to say your next thought. "Being on Amphoreus… It's like that but so much worse," you confessed. "The people you've met were people I deeply cared about back home." You shudder at your own vulnerability, but you trust Dan Heng more than you feel the pain when bringing back these memories. You opened your mouth to try and explain your weird relationship with Phainon, but you couldn't will your mind turn its thoughts into sound.

"I see…" You didn't expect him to know how to respond, but he ponders for a response anyway. "Do you think your past might give us some insight into this world?"

"If it does, then I know that this world was fucked before we even stepped foot here," you scoff. The dark thought of killing your alternate self on this world, just so that you could prove that this and any planet with you on it was better off dead.

Dan Heng puts a hand on your shoulder, and you smile at his awkward yet endearing attempt at comforting you. It kind of makes you wish March was here as well, her bubbly energy always giving you a sense of levity to any situation.

"I may not know your whole story, but me and Stelle will stand by you no matter what." If anyone knew what it was like to have a horrid past, it would be Dan Heng. The experience of being hated for something you never did was something you both shared, and it warms your heart that you have found people who will stand by your side no matter what. A luxury you weren't afforded often, but one you cherish all the same.

You nod your head with a smile, not trusting your voice to stop itself from breaking down into tears. It helps that Stelle was heading down to the two of you, another welcome distraction from the warring thoughts in your head.

Stelle starts to tell you what Aglaea had told her. Most of it was extra information added to the fairy tales that the children have told you. You had a feeling that this world was not aware of what lies beyond its firmament, but you didn't know it was something that was outright hidden from them. Whatever, their world, their rules. You have no intention to break them.

But one fact has surprised you, a pit falling in your stomach and your heart somehow aching more than it has been.

"This is Amphoreus' Flame-Chase journey — a band of heroes dedicated to slaying the gods and reclaiming the twelve Coreflames for the world to start over anew."

The Flame-Chasers haunt you wherever you go. Your past digging its claws into your flesh. Your eternal punishment for the sins you have committed. You wonder if this version of you has realized their destiny, the burden they must carry to the end.

"Hm, there's still a lot about this situation that we don't know." You cross your arms and look up to the private baths. "Why don't you two go and talk to some of the locals? Get a feel for the situation."

"And what will you do—" Dan Heng started to ask before Stelle cut him off.

"Oooooh, you're going to talk to Phainon! I saw the heart eyes you were giving him– Ow!" You're thankful that Dan Heng had the tact to elbow Stelle. You love her, but her mouth really had a way of getting into trouble.

"I want to check up on something." You hold both of their shoulders and plead with them. "Do not, under any circumstances, get into any trouble. I may not know Aglaea all that well, but she doesn't seem like the type to tolerate the slightest subordination." You shudder when you think of how Aponia would act when something didn't go her way.

"Don't you worry, I'll keep Dan Heng out of trouble!" Stelle yelled out before walking out of the baths. Dan Heng sighed and assured you that he would keep an eye on her, before following her.

You give yourself a second, trying to let your brain catch up with the last few hours or so. Your heart clenched and started beating erratically, panic and adrenaline flooding your system. This was getting too much for you to handle and you were one wrong encounter away from collapsing onto the floor in a catatonic state. But you couldn't give in to your fear, you have people depending on you. People who trust you to not let them down.

("Breathe, Starlight," he whispered into your ear. His cold arms kept you grounded amongst the field of corpses around you. "I got you, nothing is going to happen, I promise." He smiled and you almost believed him. But despite the heavens he tried to move and the hell he tried to raise, he was still mortal and you were his God. There was nothing he could do to change your fate.)

(Huh, there wasn't blood flowing from the corpses, but a weird orange energy. That wasn't exactly how you remembered how the battle went.)

You must have zoned out for quite a while because before you know it, you walk through the same streets you ran through to get to the battle. Despite the chaos that was occurring a couple of hours ago, everything seemed to go back to normal. The vendors went back to selling their produce, the lovers were walking through the streets with wistful smiles and the children were playing like they should.

"Ms. (Y/N)!" was the only warning you got before you almost collapsed under the two children you saved.

"I'm glad that you're ok!" you smile as you bend down to give your two kids a hug. Joy replaced the earlier panic, happy that there was something good that happened during your time here. "I trust that Lord Mydeimos took good care of you?"

Aris nodded while explaining how cool Lord Mydeimos – apparently he insists on just being called 'Mydei' – was, with his amazing strength and incredible knowledge on the battlefield. He tried, and failed, to recreate the fighting moves that Mydei used.

"He said that if I practice enough, I can be an even better warrior than him!"

"You still have quite a ways to go before you will reach Mydei's level."

Phainon's voice came out of nowhere, giving you a bit of a scare. He stood in front of the children, a smile on his face and hands on his hips. The children were happy to have another one of the Chrysos Heirs giving them attention. Phainon didn't seem to mind, laughing as the children took their turns treating him like a jungle gym.

You thought about having children, once upon a time. You'd crush those ideas before they could turn into something tangible, for fear that you would pass down your Herrscher curse to your children. Would this be what your life would be like if you weren't forced to bear the world's burden?

"Aris! Pallas! It's time for dinner!" You look up to see an old woman calling out to the children. Thank goodness the children had someone in Okhema to take care of them. You weren't ready to become an impromptu mother to two kids, especially with your grown children to take care of.

"Coming Grandma!" the kids respond, but they don't leave without almost knocking you over again with another hug. You make them promise again to stay out of trouble, and that you will always be there for them if they call out your name.

"Those kids seem to like you." Phainon took his place next to you, eyes scanning Marmoreal Palace for any trouble that he may need to help with. He didn't look at you, and you don't think you have the heart to look at him.

"Oh you know, save a child's life and they feel indebted to you for eternity," you chuckle, trying to relieve your nerves and the awkward tension in the air.

Neither of you know what to say. You could see Phainon opening and closing his mouth, trying to find the right words to say. Your own brain started to hurt with the amount of thinking you were doing, wanting to gather the answers you needed while protecting your own heart. There was only one way for this to end and that was in shared vulnerability. But you don't think you have it in you to be vulnerable in front of another man, even if he looks and sounds eerily like your dearly departed.

Luckily, Phainon was willing to bite the first bullet.

"Your ring is beautiful," he spoke up, eyes focusing on the blue gem around your neck. You instinctively hold it in your hand, finding relief in its biting cold. "The man who must have given it to you must have cared about you dearly."

"He did…" you trail off with a smile, letting yourself revel in the good memories without letting the bad ones taint what you have left of him. The cold from the gold brought you more comfort than you care to admit.

"If you don't mind me asking– and of course if you don't want to answer I completely understand–" Phainon goes on a tangent about not wanting to make you uncomfortable but that he was really curious. About what, he hasn't even told you yet. You put a hand on his shoulder, slowly and with hesitation, giving him enough time to pull away if he pleases to do so.

"It's alright, Phainon, just ask me what you wish to know," you reassure him with a smile.

"Were you married to someone back home?" His hands started fidgeting with his own ring finger like he was missing something there. (It just so happens that the ring you hold was an exact match for the one he was going to give his partner.)

It's the question many people ask you when they see the ring. Who's the lucky guy who captured your heart, many would ask. You'd always counter that you were the lucky one for having Kevin choose you. He was and forever will be the greatest thing that has happened to you, and you will carry that with you wherever you go. You may not have had the wedding of your dreams, but you were his. In sickness and health, till death do you part and a little bit beyond that. You don't need a legally signed paper to tell you what your soul already knows.

("Things are getting out of hand out there," he said as he knelt down to one knee. "I may not be able to give you everything that you deserve, but let me give you this one thing." He pulled the ring out of his pocket and your eyes started to blur with tears. "My heart, my love and my soul will forever belong to you. No matter where life takes you, I want you to remember that I will always be with you as long as you wear this ring." Ice started to form on his cheeks.)

("So, Starlight, my sun on a cold winter day, will you do the honours of marrying me? In this life or the next?)

(You never answered a question more quickly in your life.)

"That's hard to explain." How else can you explain that not even the day after, your closest friend and confidant revealed that she was also a Herrscher and that she sacrificed herself for future generations. How you lost your mind and became a force of destruction, ending all life in sight. That it took the combined power of all the living Flame-Chasers just to seal you away. That you spent the last fifty thousand years in exile only to be released with the death of your lover.

Phainon has a bright heart, and it reminded you of Kevin's before the responsibilities as the Deliverance took its full toll on him. Who were you to reveal him to the true horrors of his fate before he was ready? So you tell him a sanitized version until he is ready to hear your whole story. Until you're able to recount your life as objectively as possible, without driving yourself mad with what-ifs.

"We didn't know how much time we had left, so he proposed to me with hopes that we'll get married once the threat to our world was over." A bitter side of you wished to demand more time, and you've come to just appreciate the time that you had. You continue with your story, "he was right. The day after the proposal, our entire world fell apart." You don't add the fact that you were to blame for its destruction.

If the Amphoreus version of you will play the same role that you did, then you wish to preserve their image in Phainon's mind for a little bit longer.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to bring up such awful memories." Phainon was so chivalrous, it made you want to shake him by the shoulders and tell him that it's okay if he doesn't appear heroic for two seconds. He better learn this lesson before he burns himself out.

"The thing is that in between the awful memories – and trust me, there were some shit times – there are memories that I will cherish until I die." Your first birthday party after the eruption you caused, the night Kevin confessed his feelings for you, the brief hope you had when you thought your powers were under your control. These are the memories that shine through the despair you felt. And now with the Astral Express, you can create new memories that will drown out the darkness that you carry.

"You learn how to continue to live despite everything," you smile softly as you turn to look at him. Phainon's eyes were wide and hanging off of every word that you were saying. Maybe to him, the words you were saying were the Gospel he would hold close to his heart, letting them imprint themselves onto his soul. Or maybe, he was blurring the lines between you and someone else.

"Even when it hurts?" His voice stuttered, more broken than what you expected. His heart had already gone through unimaginable pain, you fear. Your instincts kicked in, wanting to shield him away from the world that had nothing but cruel plans for him.

You couldn't protect your Kevin, but you could at the very least protect Phainon.

(It's too late, for his fate was sealed thirty-three million, five hundred and fifty thousand, three hundred and thirty-six cycles ago. But with you here now, perhaps you can create enough disruption to end his suffering. You of all people should know what it's like to be locked away. You would do anything to prevent another from suffering the same fate.)

"You have people that rely on you, Phainon," you remind him. "For people like– for you, there is no break from your fate, as unfair as that sounds."

His shoulders slump and his lips start to pout. Clearly, this wasn't the answer that he wanted to hear, but you wouldn't want to lull him in a false sense of security.

You continue to look at him, trying to see past the ghosts that haunt you. For all the similarities Phainon and Kevin share, there were some differences. Kevin carried himself with calculated confidence, always trying to seem like he was in control. He'd only confide with you in private that most of it was a ruse to psych himself into believing in the future. As time went on, he became even more of a recluse, and the rare smile he'd share on some occasions was all but gone.

Phainon on the other hand wore his heart on his sleeve. He smiled freely, he cared fiercely and he wasn't afraid to hide any of his emotions. You wish to keep him like this, happy that at least in one world, you were able to see your lover before disaster.

You only met Kevin after he'd joined the Fire MOTH, and you didn't get to really know him until years after your deployment. You never got to meet the carefree version of him from Su or Mei's stories.

"There was a boy and a girl that I knew, once upon a time." Your voice had piqued his attention and all traces of that sad, puppy expression had disappeared. You continue on with your story.

"The girl's fate was sealed from the moment she was born. A terrible darkness was sealed inside of her, and it was only a matter of time before it would take over her being." You take a deep breath before you continue. "We call these beings 'Herrschers'." How could a word mean nothing to one person, but chill you to your bones?

"But despite what her destiny had decreed, she did everything in her power to fight against the darkness. It was almost futile, but she held such a deep love for humanity that it fueled her desire to win." Would the bright-eyed rookie all those years ago be proud of who you are? Of all the damage you caused and tried to fix and undo?

"The boy on the other hand had all the choice in the world." You almost lose yourself in another memory, catching yourself before you do. "He could have lived his life in relative peace, but he chose to fight."

"Because he too had a deep love for humanity?" Phainon asked.

"You're not wrong, but not exactly. He gained a new reason when he fell in love with the girl." You look towards the Dawn Machine, the closest thing this planet has to a sun. "He promised to keep her safe from fate, to defy anything that stood in his way."

Before he stood on his knee to ask for your hand in marriage, he stood before you, vowing to keep you away from anything that would bring you harm, including yourself.

("Even when the Honkai makes you unrecognizable, I will always fight to find the woman I love within." A knight swearing to his princess, an oath written in blood and stardust. There was no one that would come in between him and you, the beautiful end. You make a silent oath to yourself to never let him have to choose between you or the world.)

"In the end, they both failed to achieve their goals. The darkness that she so desperately tried to conceal did exactly what she was afraid of." The distant screams and prayers have become white noise to you. "And the boy couldn't save her from her fate, and so he had to kill her. And her revival only could happen after the boy killed himself. " You were glad that your last sight was of Kevin's face. You only wish his eyes weren't blurred by his tears. You only wish that you were there to provide him the same comfort.

Phainon took a sharp breath, not expecting the story to end so bleakly. The light in his eyes started to dim and his hands were shaky at his side. If he thought you were going to give him hope that everything would be okay, then he was speaking to the wrong person.

His voice is solemn, unlike the cheerful tone he had thus far.

"Are all of our fates destined to be that bleak?" he asks with a woeful tone. You could tell he didn't want to accept such a notion, but sometimes there is simply nothing you could do except to welcome the inevitable.

That was not the lesson you wanted Phainon to leave with.

"Maybe yes, maybe no," you muse with a smile. From the corner of your eyes, Phainon tilts his head at your light tone. You continue on with the moral of your story. "If you ask the girl, she'd probably tell you that she doesn't regret a thing."

"What do you mean?" Phainon is skeptical but doesn't shut you down.

"She met the love of her life, had a great group of friends that she called family, and even if it was for a brief amount of time, she was able to help protect her home. Sure, she wishes things ended differently, but she's come to learn that that's how life goes sometimes." You didn't know when you became so optimistic, but it was leagues better than being miserable all the time.

You miss him. Desperately so with an ache in your soul. Sometimes you stay up in the middle of the night, feeling the faint connection between your heart and his. But you have since grown without him, and slowly, you were filling the void with new friends and new loves. Himeko's awful coffee. Welt's science jokes that no one gets but him. The trio and all the chaos that they get into.

You wish Kevin could see you now. He'd be crying to see the woman who's so haunted by her past being able to let go and find peace. It's a long process, and a very slow one, but the best time to start is today.

Just as Phainon brings you hope that there could be a version of your story that has a happy ending, you hope that your story shows him that there is life beyond tragedy. That even the darkest times cannot stay forever. He just needs to persevere through all of it, and you know he will.

When you arrived on Amphoreus and learned of its peculiarity, you were scared that all the little healing that you had done was for nothing.

Now? It was just a sign of how far you have come. That you weren't sobbing at the sight and sound of Phainon. Truthfully, you think that you have gained a new friend and you are thankful for that.

"That was… a beautiful story," he sniffles as wipes his tears. You didn't mean to make the poor man cry, but at least he was comfortable sharing his emotions with you.

You thank him and continue to gaze beyond the horizon, a sense of peace that you haven't felt in millennia overcoming you. The awkward energy gave away to two people basking in the painful reminders of what it means to be human. A human who feels too much and a monster who doesn't feel at all, or at least that is what you tell yourself. You were coming to terms that maybe you aren't the monster everyone thought you were.

"When I first saw you, I couldn't help but compare you to my partner," he confesses with shame. "I was so… furious that you were just standing there while they were gone." His fists clenched, not with anger but with determination. "But now I understand that you too have lost your lover, and that our pain is shared."

"However, I am sorry, I refuse to share our destiny." He stood with a fire in his eyes. "I will not lose Amphoreus or my partner to the Black Tide or any other threat that comes in the future."

Echoes of the past whispered in your ear. "Humanity will never lose hope for as long as they call me their hero, their Deliverer."

"Good," you snark, and a little bit of your old self starts to bleed through. "I expect nothing less, Deliverer."

He smiles and pounds his fist against his heart, another oath made to you. Hopefully, this one will be kept.

"I, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, swear to you that I will see the Flame-Chase to the end, and that I will grant Amphoreus the happy ending we all deserve," he said with conviction, the same that you have heard from over the years. The desire to save your home isn't exclusive to one dying world, and you can extend your desire to other people.

"Then Phainon of Aedes of Elysiae," you start as you place a fist against your own heart, "I, (Y/N) of the Trailblaze swear that I will help however I can save Amphoreus from the Black Tide, and bring you to the Era Nova." You will not let another dying world fall.

In his excitement, Phainon lunges towards you and gives you a hug. His arms wrapped your back and lifted you up in the air. Your surprised shriek let him know that while this hug wasn't unwelcome, a warning would have done you good.

With renewed vigour, you and Phainon continue to walk through Marmoreal Market, with him pointing out all the stalls and the stories behind each of them. You laugh at his dramatic recreation, completely enchanted by the way he carries himself. In another life, he would have made for a fine historian.

It wasn't until you passed a funeral home that Phainon spoke up to ask you another question.

"Have you ever thought about death?" he asks with such innocent curiosity that it almost distracts you from the morbid question.

"Do you think I'm going to die soon?" you counter with a question of your own, happy with the panic you caused him. He stopped and turned around like a deer in headlights, and he let out another ramble to excuse himself.

"No! That is definitely not what I meant," he trembled in place, his hands waving around in surrender. "It's just that I've always thought about it – you know being a warrior, you never know when your time will come – and it's something I ask everyone. Though I understand if that seems odd, especially to an outsider. Please forgive me!" How he said that in one breath was a miracle. You need to calm him down before he bows– oh, there he goes. Bobbing his head up and down like he will be able to repent his sins.

"I haven't given it a lot of thought to be honest." Your voice snaps him out of repentance and gives you his utmost attention. "All I know is that I wish to be buried in a wedding dress," you smile. "He better have planned the biggest party for me."

"If I were to die alongside you, I expect an invitation as well." That much was obvious, but you hope he survives longer than you do if only to enjoy the happy ending he rightfully deserves. You also don't want to face the wrath of Amphoreus you for taking their man away from them so soon.

You were not his. He is not yours. The eerie similarities don't make up for the history that you share with your respective lovers. But in the shared details of your story, you find comfort that there are people like you, who face trials and tribulations beyond human comprehension. But at the same time, different enough to avoid the same doom you had to go through.

This is supposed to be a romantic story after all.

Just when you thought that all could end well, Lady Triannon comes running towards you, crying out to yourself and Phainon.

"Snowy! Come quick! Aglaea is going to execute Grayie and Dan Heng!" You don't respond, just running after her to save your idiots from their own poor decision-making.

You didn't think your life would come to this, but like you said earlier, you wouldn't change it for a damn thing.

–

(Beyond Calamity's Gate, there is an emanator waiting for their lover to fulfill the prophecy to set them free. They could only hope that he would be able to stop them from destroying the land they have come to love, and become the hero he was meant to be.)

(In another universe, there stood a man on the moon who barely escaped Death's hands. A girl with your eyes told him that you were okay, just exploring beyond the stars. He thinks that you deserved it after the sacrifices you made, but that didn't stop his longing to be with you again. He will find you, just like he promised all those years ago.)

given that all of this was written before 3.4, forgive me for the hopefulish ending ;-; mayhaps i'll write this from phainon's pov one day hehehe

may phainon wanters be phainon havers in the year of our lord 2025!!!

#phainon hsr #phainon x reader #phainon x you #honkai star rail #kevin kaslana #kevin kaslana x reader #kevin kaslana x you #honkai impact 3rd #tricking everyone to love kevin hehehe #zo writes tingz #this is zo speaking

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pastelalleycat · 1 hour ago

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For folks who dislike kids- I know, firsthand, that they can be overwhelming to watch. I work in a daycare, and I've seen them refuse to listen, and pinch their friends, and generally do some incredibly stupid stuff. But they're still infinitely more valuable to society than a pedophile will ever be.

And we need to love and protect kids more than we hate pedophilles.

Learning how to navigate a big and often scary world is hard when you're literally, what, two years old? Kids aren't always going to make the best choices, and that's expected and okay. It's my job as a trusted adult figure to help them learn how to make better choices, and sometimes what that better choice even is.

Pedophiles don't care what the better choice is. They're adults, they've been taught far better, and they're still making the worst choice possible. It's not just about attraction, it's about power. Because kids are so young and still learning a lot, they often don't have the physical strength to escape the abuse nor the vocabulary to explain what happened to them after the fact. Tragically, many child victims may not even know what happened to them WAS abuse.

That's why we need to teach children what boundaries are, and show up for them if they are abused. This kind of stuff saves lives.

(It should be noted that not all people who are attracted to minors want to follow through with it. Also, POCD [pedophile OCD], which causes not-factual-but-very-intrusive thoughts of being attracted to kids, can be extremely distressing. There should be therapy and help available for almost ANYONE who requests it, including those with harmful paraphilias or who struggle with anxiety about harmful paraphilias. This is part of the solution too.)

Speaking as a survivor of child sex abuse: the world would be a lot better if yall spent less time talking about the ways in which pedophiles should be punished and more time supporting survivors and preventing abuse

I get it, punishment can feel cathartic. I’ve certainly spent time imagining all the ways in which my own abuser might be punished. But ultimately, him dying, or being jailed, or publicly shamed, isn’t actually going to help me nor will it stop more kids from getting hurt in the future.

I don’t want more prisoners. I want free therapy with trauma informed counselors. I want better sex education for young children that teaches them about consent and body autonomy. And I want a society in which I can openly discuss my trauma, or at least as openly as yall discuss the evils of pedophiles

#tw abuse mention #tw abuse #children's rights #childcare

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bluebnny · 1 day ago

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👀 if its okay with you, could I request some smut of Law x reader who had long ago said if he needed he could fool around while they are asleep? Like him coming to bed late and just boom! Suddenly horny seeing his lover sleeping in his bed in his old yellow hoodie.

I am high key feral for this man ��

Yellow hoodie

trafalgar law x reader

contents: established relationship. this is written with law’s POV, even though he’s still referred to in the 3rd person. law (drunk) sees reader (drunk) asleep in his hoodie and goes feral. reader wakes up. mostly rough, but with soft moments

warnings: dub-con (drunk sex, somnophilia), rough sex, multiple orgasms (reader), overstimulation, some fear play (law gets aroused when reader is in shock), slight pain in the beginning (reader), unprotected sex – it's mentioned that reader has a safe word, but it isn’t used – reader is mostly GN, but has a vagina

a/n: i had a blast writing this, as I am also high key feral for this man. hope i didn’t go too off the rails. the words just wouldn’t stop. it's long bc i used the beginning for a drunk sex fic i had planned but never finished. also i hope it's ok that reader wakes up. happy reading, i hope you enjoy <3 :D

word count: 2.753

There’s something very soft about Law when he’s drunk. The usual sharp glares smoothed down into something far more tender. His gaze directed only at you. And try as he might – he’s clearly trying his best – he can’t quite stop himself from looking a little love-drunk whenever you’re around.

He’s all slow blinks and ruffled hair, undeniably cute. And that’s exactly how he looks as he enters through the door of your shared bedroom.

It’s Friday, meaning the crew are having a few drinks to wind down from the week. Law always joins them. Not out of free will, of course; he just happens to be the only crew member for whom attendance is mandatory.

Some time ago, the crew had reached an agreement with Law about needing to attend a certain number of social gatherings, including friday drinks, holidays, and birthday celebrations. It even means that Law has to attend his own birthday, much to his dismay.

Law, being the way he is, and dealing with a heap of trauma, tends to shut himself off in his office to drown himself in work. He does so even more when his mental health spirals, making his depressive episodes completely unforeseeable and unmanageable. His friends have found that the most effective method of preventing them is to make sure he has regular social interactions to force his attention onto something else.

Law obviously finds this arrangement stupid, but the effect is undeniable. He will begrudgingly show up at 7 on the dot, have a few drinks, loosen up a little – sometimes going so far as to even smile – and then be tipsy enough to go straight to bed upon returning. It has the added benefit of making him sleep in on Saturdays, much to your delight, as it means morning cuddles.

So, as much as he tries to fight it, the rule stays. It really does do wonders for his mental health, which is apparent from the way he’s standing by the door, a little drunk, and clearly in a good mood.

But his good mood turns into something… else when he sees you. There you are, fast asleep in his bed, huddled up to escape the biting cold of the metal sub. The Polar Tang is submerged, letting very little light into the room, but Law can still make out the top of your head peeking out from under the blanket.

He hadn’t felt it before, too focused on making conversation with the crew. But now that he’s alone with you in the room, with nothing but your soft breathing and the fuzziness in his head, he feels that familiar pull in the pit of his stomach telling him he’s getting aroused.

Just as he’s about to tell himself to wait for morning, he remembers a conversation the two of you had some months ago. You had somehow gotten onto the topic of sex, sharing kinks and personal fantasies. Law distinctly remembers you saying you’d be ok with him doing things in your sleep. He was a little taken aback at the time but suddenly feels himself growing very fond of the idea.

He only stands still for a few more seconds before jumping into action. Eyes never leaving you, he hurries over to the bed as quietly as possible while taking off his clothes. He slides under the covers behind you; very carefully, so as not to wake you. The alcohol is getting to his head a little, but what really gets him riled up is the fact that you’re wearing his old yellow hoodie for extra warmth.

He lets out a quiet “fuck” when he sees it, and feels himself grow painfully hard. You’re not usually a heavy sleeper, but the alcohol must have gotten to you, too, seeing as you would normally wake up from his movements. He still decides to use his devil fruit powers to take off your clothes, though. Just in case. He wants to savour this. Having you completely defenceless under him.

With a flick of Law’s hand, you’re left in nothing but his yellow hoodie, and it’s taking everything in him to remain in control of himself. He gently moves his body closer to yours, willing himself to take his time. Telling himself that it’ll be more than worth it.

When his back is pressed completely to yours, Law wraps his free arm around your front and moves it down to your core. He almost lets out a groan when his fingers are met with wetness; but manages to catch himself just in time.

Law can’t remember the last time he’s been this nervous about something. His heart is hammering so loud he’s afraid you might wake up from the sound alone. But he simply needs to see your reaction to being woken up stuffed full of him. So, although he wants nothing more than to shove himself inside you right now, Law decides to be patient for a moment longer. He skilfully finds your clit and rubs his fingers over it a few times, testing the waters of how far he could go with you like this.

He freezes when you let out a little noise and shift a bit, but it seems his actions aren’t enough to wake you just yet. With this, he decides not to push it further.

Law grabs his cock – throbbing with need, and rock hard – and aligns it with your soaking entrance.

He slides it in. Fast. Before you get the chance to stop him.

When you wake up, he’s already buried deep. Almost down to the base. The sudden intrusion making you clamp down so hard that it’s impossible for him to move any further. You squeak in surprise as you wake up, and the need inside him grows impossibly strong at the way your body jolts in alarm. He lets out a low groan of pleasure, trying not to get too lost in it just yet.

“Shhh, baby. It’s ok, it’s just me.” He shushes you, knowing this is probably quite a shock to you, despite having technically agreed to it beforehand.

“L- Law?” Your voice is a quiet whimper, and he can feel how scared you are. He feels bad for you, but the sound makes his cock twitch, and that’s currently the part of his body that has the most executive power.

“Yes, y/n, it’s me. Can you breathe for me, baby?”

He feels you suck in a shaking breath that you clearly didn’t realize you were holding, and your body relaxes slightly beneath his. He takes this as his opportunity to push himself even further inside your tight heat, making you let out another helpless whine.

His hand moves to your hip, thumb caressing your skin in soothing circles. It has the added benefit of keeping you in place, as he can feel you try to squirm away from the brutal intrusion.

“Go back to sleep, y/n. Let me use you a little, yeah?”

“O- ok.” Your body relaxes a little further into the mattress, but he knows you aren’t sleeping. Just tired, and very disoriented.

“Fuck, you’re being so good f’me.”

When Law feels you squirming less, he lets go of your hip, burying his large, tattooed hand under the yellow sweatshirt that you’re still wearing. Snaking it around your middle to rest between where your ribs meet the bed, pulling you into him tightly.

Law rocks his hips into yours, slow at first, but quickly starts to thrust a little deeper when he no longer sees any traces of pain or fear on your face.

He keeps kneading your insides to accommodate him. Pushing himself in and out of your tight hole, while watching the look on your face slowly turn from one of utter confusion into pure bliss.

And fuck, he loves it.

There’s something about your expression that completely enraptures him. Your mouth hangs slightly open. Only closing to bite your lower lip when he forces a particularly deep thrust into you. The way your eyes are still a little unfocused from a mix of drowsiness, alcohol, and undeniable pleasure. Your eyebrows – restless – tense every time he bottoms out, easing slightly when he pulls back.

It's adorable.

He could stare at you like this for hours, closely studying every detail and movement of your face. Every subtle change in expression from how his actions affect you. But he’s snapped out of it when you give a high pitched yelp and start gushing around him, shaking in his tight embrace.

Law can only watch in awe as your body tenses beneath his. Reeling from the way your tight pussy spasms around his fat length. As you lose control of your limbs. Of your voice.

Did you really just cum? Already?

It’s only been a few minutes. Law is so taken aback that he almost forgets to keep fucking you through your high. But there isn’t much of an interruption. His hips started moving on autopilot the second he felt you clamping down on his cock.

He recovers quickly.

“Fuck, you like this more than you were letting on.” You can’t see it, as you’re facing away from him, but a devilish smirk spreads across your boyfriend’s face. He hears you let out a little whine, your hand coming up behind you to pathetically push at his hips.

“Aww, you need a break?” He coos, mocking you.

When he sees your tiny, pathetic nod, Law decides to have mercy on you. For now. Although you aren’t using your safe word, he knows this must be a lot for you, and is a little worried you might have forgotten it in the confusion.

So, he compromises by stilling his hips; but doesn’t pull out of you just yet.

“Hey, y/n. You alright?” His voice is still soft, but more serious this time, lightly nudging your head with the arm supporting it. He wants to show you he expects an answer and isn’t just teasing.

You slowly look up at him, and he almost melts from the expression on your face. You’re still glassy-eyed, clearly a little discoordinated, and panting hard. But you nod at his question, and he doesn’t miss the subtle way in which your mouth turns up into a weak – but very pleased – smile.

“Ok, good. Just making sure.” And he starts pressing kisses to your face and neck, partly to reassure you, partly to distract himself from the sudden urge to violently rut into you again. His hand, still under your side, caresses your heaving chest in lazy circles.

It’s only when you let out a satisfied, breathy giggle that he notices his actions. They aren’t purposeful, but your reaction makes him realize that you aren’t the only one who’s completely fucked out. Law is whipped.

He grumbles slightly. It must be the alcohol. He thinks, trying to find any explanation at all for his uncharacteristically lovey state. But he knows damn well it isn’t the alcohol making him grin back at you when you give him a dopey smile.

To compensate, he gives you a hard thrust that he knows must have punched you right in the cervix, judging by how your mouth is ripped open in a silent scream.

“Break’s over.” That’s all the warning you get.

With that, Law starts back up into a brutal pace, even rougher than before. He watches your eyes snap wide open again, and pulls you tighter against his chest. Knowing you’re about to try wriggling free from the overstimulation.

His fingers find your nipple this time, rubbing it in almost soothing motions that contrast greatly with everything else he’s doing to your poor, exhausted body.

Law keeps fucking you like this for a while, simply enjoying the moment through the fuzziness in his head. Both of you are completely delirious from alcohol, pleasure, and in your case, sleep.

The room is filled with sounds; harsh snaps of skin against skin, heavy breathing, blankets rustling, and your exhausted, broken whines drowning it all out. But it doesn’t feel loud to either of you, too lost in the moment to register anything beyond the sensations running wild in your bodies.

When you eventually try pushing away from him again, Law is prepared. Lifting the forearm resting under your head, he traps your neck behind it, forcing your shoulders to press into his chest. He isn’t applying pressure, only doing enough to keep you in place while his other hand roughly grips the soft plush of your belly.

Your back is arching from the pleasure, but unable to move further with your head and hips anchored to Law’s much larger torso.

It doesn’t take long before you start squirming in that specific way that tells Law you’re on the verge of another orgasm. He’s determined to push you over the edge one more time before reaching his own high, which is also fast approaching.

So, as much as he loves resting his hand on your soft stomach, he moves his fingers further down to once again attach themselves to your clit, rubbing it in messy circles.

The effect is immediate.

Although Law has barely touched you, you’re violently coming apart for the second time that night. He keeps snapping his hips into your soft ass, completely entranced at the sight before him. There’s something mesmerizing in how you helplessly writhe and squirm in his hold. Combined with the feeling of you desperately trying to clamp down on his cock that already has you stretched so wide, he knows he isn’t going to last much longer.

Trying to hold on as much as possible, he focuses on continuing his movements on your body, but it’s no use. The sight of your vulnerable form struggling underneath him with agonizing pleasure is simply too much. He sees your eyes roll into the back of your head before closing his own. Letting the high overtake him.

Law’s pace speeds up even faster than before as he tumbles over the edge. He keeps a searing grip on your hip again, keeping you firmly in place as he rides out his high.

It feels like flying and falling at the same time. He is fully aware of every nerve in his body, and at the same time too blissed out to fully register anything that’s happening.

Time seems to stand still. Or maybe it speeds up.

It’s impossible to tell, because his brain is not working like usual. The white-hot pleasure is coursing through his body like fire in his veins, shutting out all common sense. All he can do is to let himself enjoy it.

When he opens his eyes and slows down again – whether it’s been years or mere seconds, he doesn’t know – Law finally feels the exhaustion overtaking him.

His body is heavy against the mattress, and he can feel you trembling beneath him ever so slightly, which is what fully snaps him back to reality.

“Hey, y/n. Baby, are you ok?”

His hand is on your shoulder now, nudging it as gently as he can with the way his body isn’t fully back under his control yet.

“Yeah.” It’s very quiet. So quiet he would have missed it had he not seen your lips move. “I’m good.” You even smile weakly, but he can tell that it’s genuine.

He slumps down on his back in relief, a contented sigh escaping him. “Good. I was afraid it was too much for a sec.” But he can hear your breathing slowly even out, becoming deep and steady. And he knows you must have fallen asleep again.

The tiredness is overcoming him as well, impossible to escape, especially with the sense of profound relaxation that always remains after an intense orgasm. Every cell in his body feels tired, and the remaining fuzziness from the alcohol makes it impossible to resist sinking into the mattress.

…

Law doesn’t know how long he dozed off for. He jolts awake, sitting bolt upright, and looks over to your still sleeping form. He scrambles off the bed and picks you up despite how peaceful you look. He has more important things to worry about.

He doesn’t want to disturb your sleep a second time, but when Law is neither drunk, aroused, or angry, the only thing that remains is pure doctor. He carries you off to the bathroom, all while scolding you, even though he knows you’re too far gone to hear him.

“Y/n. You have to remember to pee after sex!”

thank you for reading!! I really hope you liked it <3<3 sorry the title is so rushed again, i literally always forget to think of one until the last second

(Dividers made by me)

(This is my fic, don't repost or use in any AI training programmes! Reblogs are always appreciated <3) Here are my rules, and my masterlist.

#one piece #one piece smut #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #one piece law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law smut #request

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briinnny · 1 day ago

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Oh Kephale.

pairing: phainon x gn!reader (w mentions of the entirety of the amphoreus cast).

word count: 2.1K

warnings: spoilers for the entirety of amphoreus (3.4 included), reader dies… a lot, mentions of blood, main character death, suicide, kinda yandere pahinon ? maybe bring some tissues with you.

summary: He meets you again, wearily weeping under a faceless mask reflecting in your bleary eyes. Forgive him, once more, for he must do this for the greater good. A long overdue promise escaped his frozen lips, not many words leaving him in the wake of a revengeful madness grasping the remains of his sanity.

Golden ichor stains him endlessly, so much that he cannot recognize who it belongs to. But yours have always shone brighter under the sunlight. But maybe, this is not the only reason his heart aches when you depart from him once more.

Chasing without fear the tomorrow that will never come.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He really can’t have anything, can he ?

The first reset, you were a simple servant working for Lady Aglaea. Apparently, she had seen you grown up, and in an effort to not repeat twice the same mistake she did with Cipher, she was always keeping you by her side. You were her shadow in a way, always lurking nearby. Thinking about it, shadows are supposed to be somber and dark, but you were like the sun… No, that is incorrect. You were a star, something that has not been seen in ages. Something bound to disappear.

And disappearing you did, but not like Cipher. In a twisted way, your death — caused by the Council of the Elders as a warning to Aglaea herself — caused the two women who have long broken apart to reunite. Cipher had found you, and delivered your body to a bedflower in the Garden of Life. The irony, letting you bleed on flowers symbolizing the opposite of your unfortunate predicament. With your body here, both the Goldweaver and Garmentmaker made one final gift to you: a single piece of jewelry, a simple bracelet made with the famous Golden Threads that fill the eternal holy city to the brim.

In a way, it was Aglaea’s opportunity to connect with you one last time, and to usher a single goodbye in your mind that was long gone. Castorice could have attested so, but silence is known to be golden.

As for Phainon, he knew you to some extent. You two were not that close yet as he often trained with Mydeimos, while you remained with the leader of the Chrysos Heirs, always watching, never speaking. You had the same speaking mannerism as the blind woman did, and sometimes he failed to understand some of your riddles. It made you giggle.

Oh Kephale, how long until the west wind brings that laughter back to him ?

The second reset, you met early on: at the Grove. You two were students under the infamous Anaxagoras himself, giving the blasphemous professor more than one headache with your stupid antics. He should be getting the Coreflames already as the memories of the truth behind Amphoreus was still clear in his mind, but he had the right to indulge himself a little bit, correct ?

So indulging he did, until the two of you graduated at the same time. He watched as your fate changed, no longer at Aglaea’s side, but at his side. A trio was formed between you, Phainon and Mydeimos. Most of the time, the two men would stir up trouble, often fueled by stupid competitions (like, who would count how many chimeras they can carry in their arms without dropping any ? Mydeimos won by the way, he managed to carry thirty six of them while Phainon failed when he reached thirty three. Loser). But, you also acted as a peacemaker whenever the two started to argue. After all, they are too proud to apologize on their own, so you can give some well needed advice.

In this life, you died by the Black Tide, and he will never forgive himself. It was a simple mission to save some people stuck on deserted ruins, and Tribbie had been kind enough to help you all reach it with her powers. What you had not anticipated were the corrupted titankin, and you took a blow in his stead. He was dragged away as the monsters closed in. He saw your last breath before the portal closed in, your last smile for him.

Oh Kephale, how long until the west wind brings that smile back to him ?

The eleventh reset, you had claimed the Coreflame of Time already, which reminded him of a friend long gone. He went straight to the point when he saw you, and asked you to deliver what you had conquered. You refused, of course, saying that you had to protect it with your life, this mission had been entrusted to you as the Priest of Time, a reminder of a bygone time. C̴y̴r̴e̴n̴e̴,̴ ̴d̴i̴d̴ ̴y̴o̴u̴ ̴c̴o̴m̴e̴ ̴t̴o̴ ̴h̴a̴u̴n̴t̴ ̴h̴i̴s̴ ̴d̴a̴y̴s̴ ̴l̴i̴k̴e̴ ̴a̴ ̴f̴o̴r̴g̴o̴t̴t̴e̴n̴ ̴g̴h̴o̴u̴l̴ ̴?̴

But you were kind, you had always been. So, you two struck a deal: he could get what he desired, if he passed Oronyx’s trial using the Scale of Judgement. In a way, you had truly inherited the way the fallen Titan did, playing a bit to have some fun but to also buy yourself time, as giving your Coreflame would result in your death, no doubt needed. And yet, you still bravely accepted it when he won.

You took it out of your body, and he saw you disappear right in front of his eyes, turning into nothingness. But before that, you spoke to him, and even in this deranged state of his, he can still remember what you told him: “Phainon, do love yourself a bit in this journey of yours, and live with that love.”

He remained in the Abyss of Fate for a while that day, using the only thing you had left behind to retrace all of your steps. You were nothing more than a memory, and he was listening to it all, seeing you help many people before he arrived. And when he left, Castorice was entering the place, seeking your soul.

Oh Kephale, how long until the west wind brings that kindness back to him ?

The one hundred twenty seventh reset, you were a healer, working alongside Hyacine. You had tended to his wounds one day when your fellow healer was busy taking care of other people, tracing your fingertips along his battered back. The next time you saw it, you kissed the scars he harbored, and apologized as if you were the sinful one. His only answer was to seek the warmth of your skin, as he knew it would leave just as quickly. Like you always did.

The three hundred seventy ninth reset, you were side by side with Hysilens and Cerydra, the two having not yet fully taken upon their journey, and you were there too, as a dancer enjoying the waves of your oceanic companion’s violin, dancing in front og the rumored tyrant. One day, you took his hand and danced with him. He laughed after stepping on your foot accidentally, and you simply ruffled his hair. The flames of your passion burned you, and you held the corrupted titankin by offering one last show. Golden ichor painted the streets that night, and he did it in your honor.

The seven thousand fifty hundred and first reset, you were no one special, only haunted by your own demons, and yet his paranoia made it be that he followed you around, watching over your back. Whenever someone bothered you, he would strike, whenever you sobbed, he would hold. In the end, he found your body laying on the floor of your bedroom, a dagger tinted with crimson in your hand that harbored no warmth. That day, when Khaslana killed himself, his humanity left at the reminder of your fate.

Nine thousand eight hundred forty fourth reset, Mydeimos succumbed and ravaged everything. Your body could not be recognized.

Eighty nine thousand three hundred and second reset, you traded your life to buy time for Anaxagoras to fuse with the Reason Coreflame. He was the one who held the blade to your chest.

From now on, he would be the one to kill you. If he did that, then he would know when to expect your death, correct ?

. . .

“Lygus.” The Antikytheran turned around, the view of the destroyed Amphoreus a sight for sore eyes in his twisted opinion. Phainon did not return that excitement, instead gazing lifessly towards the one who had caused everything in the first place. The one who has ruined their lives before it could even begin, and for what ? His own twisted pleasure at proving the Erudition wrong, and at embracing the Destruction.

“What is it ?” That voice, filled with deceit and a lack of emotion stirred up something inside of the man’s chest, which he ignored for now. “Ah, do not speak, I know exactly why you are open to a conversation today. It is because of your little… partner, isn’t it ?”

Silence takes over the two of them, before finally, Phainon speaks.

“You… why ? Why is fate always so different ?” A simple hum of acknowledgement cuts through the thickness in the air, the ashes and the blood and the memories carry no weight anymore between the two survivors of this charade, of this lie crafted by hands that held no love. A creator is supposed to love their creations, no ? So why, why does he despise them all to the point of never aiding them ?

“That answer is simple. For the results to show some sort of difference after each run, a variable needs to always change. Simply deriving how the story unfolds bears no satisfactory answer, so I brought in something that will always change.” Their eyes met, golden against a simple concealment. Coward, always hiding. “But you know that already, don’t you ?”

. . .

“You shall be everlasting, but everchanging, with a soul always alike, which will illuminate this world.” The three friends looked at each other, before one let out a sound which could be summed up as a mix between a whine and a grumble.

“What does that fate even mean ? Draw new cards !” The young girl shook her head, refusing to cooperate with the demands. Seeing the look on the face of his two friends, the white haired swordsman in training had only the strength to sigh. And an argument started between the two, just as quick as that.

“Give me another fate !” One wailed.

“No can do !” The other cheered.

“Come on, let’s not get handsy now, that fate sound… huh, nice ?” His comforting words and the half received embrace met nothing else but eyes dagging into his soul. “Then take it if it is so nice !”

The pink haired one only laughed as her two friends were now bickering.

. . .

He had killed Mydeimos, and now, there you were, in his arms. There was nothing romantic about this scene, only a wasteland in the making, and he, the Flame Reaver, shall draw his sword through your heart for the final time.

But, indulge him a bit, alright ?

A clawed hand reached out to you, the metal cold against your tear strained cheek. This was not the fitting death of a hero, but he did not want you to be a hero ever again. Maybe it was selfish of him to wish to dictate your life in such a way, but what else can he hope for when you have tasted death for so long ? If only you knew how many times the metallic scent of your blood overgrown all of his senses, to the point that he was driven crazy, hoping to never feel it again.

The life in your eyes is so frail, almost gone. But there is one endeavor left to do. The dreamless wish to show you, and to prove to everyone, that his humanity remains alive.

A simple noise. His mask falls to the ground, revealing the broken head of the man you once loved, now plagued with millions of lives. With millions of you left broken, dying, sometimes alone, and sometimes with some people by your side. Your gazes meet, and he raises his weapon, ready to strike down and—

“Ph… Phainon ?”

He cannot strike down. Three slashes are too cruel to you, too short for him to remember you correctly, for you have started to fade in his eyes. Why cannot he recognize you anymore ?

You laugh at the hesitance. He can only stare, almost in horror, as the wind blows by, bringing that sound to his ears. Some recognition flashes across his crazen eyes that hold nothing but silent emptiness. Your first life, as Aglaea’s assistant. You laughed back then, too, when he failed to decipher your riddles.

The silence outstretches, and your face becomes clearer, blood stained lips curved upwards into what barely resemble a smile. It is tainted with pain, tainted with sorrows and maybe regrets. He regrets too, not saving you from the beasts in your second life as he ran away like a coward to escape his own end.

“I knew… it. You are no monster.”

Please, stop looking at him, stop being warm. Stars explode after sharing too much warmth, and yours is intoxicating. You have never stopped loving this world, your companions, your life and him. Without realizing, he fulfilled a part of this long made promise with you, back when you were the Priest of Time.

He lived with love, your love.

Oh Kephale, how long until the west wind brings that love back to him ?

“See you again tomorrow, K̴h̴a̴s̴l̴a̴n̴a̴.”

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sunnyspookss · 1 day ago

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kris says and does stupid shit completely of their own volition all the time, and i think everyone in town including alvin is just very used to their nonsense (ex: sick fruit juice). kris only really stops the player from making them do or say things they don’t agree with, meaning they did in fact think it was a bangin’ sermon.

kris does have the ability to stop themselves from saying stupid shit when the player orders it which means they are totally cool with saying “Bangin’ sermon, my man” to a priest

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formulafanfics13 · 7 hours ago

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Loved the tattoo one with Charles and lando but can you write on where reader has a tramp stamp of Oscar’s number 81 and didn’t tell him. Oscar finds out when her shirt went up when reaching for something on a high shelf in the kitchen. Then he goes feral on her in the kitchen 🔥🔥🔥finishing on her back in love with the new tattoo. 💕

Eighty-One - OP81 🔥

Masterlist

Summary: Oscar Piastri stumbles across a fresh tattoo on your lower back — his race number, 81, inked just above your ass. You hadn’t told him. You wanted it to be a surprise. The moment he sees it, he loses all composure and takes you right there in the kitchen, desperate to claim what’s already his. The sex is rough, messy, and possessive, ending with him coming over the tattoo like a signature.

Content Warning: This story includes explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, possessiveness, marking/branding kink, and light degradation. It also contains dominant language and physical intensity in a domestic setting.

It was a stupid shelf. One of those high-up, badly thought-out, who-the-fuck-designed-this cabinets that somehow ended up being the only place in your Monaco apartment that could store the bottle of soy sauce you swore you bought last week. You were standing on your tiptoes, one hand braced on the top of the cupboard, the other blindly reaching further and further in, spine stretched, shirt riding higher with every second.

Oscar was walking past the kitchen door when it happened. He hadn’t meant to stop. Had just come out of the shower, hair damp, towel slung low, on his way to get water before dragging you both back to bed for a Sunday nap you absolutely did not need. But then he caught a glimpse of your back. Your skin. Your spine and the hem of your shirt climbing up inch by inch as you stretched. And then he saw it.

Small. Sharp. Dark against the soft curve of skin just above your waistband.

Eighty One.

Clean, deliberate font. Fresh ink. Slight redness still healing. Oscar stopped cold. His mouth went dry.

You didn’t notice. Still half-cursing the soy sauce, still on your toes, still oblivious.

Oscar blinked. Blinked again. Then said, voice low and strangled, “What the fuck is that?”

You froze. Glanced back over your shoulder. “What?”

He didn’t answer. Just moved. Crossed the room in three long strides and pressed a hand to your lower back, fingers spreading just under the number. You jolted.

“Oscar-”

“Is that real?”

You swallowed. “...Yes.”

“When did you get it?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Two fucking weeks-” He stopped himself. Stared at it again like it was a holy relic. Like it was proof of something primal and sacred.

“It’s just a tattoo,” you said, heart starting to race.

“It’s my fucking number.”

You nodded, slowly.

“On your back.”

Another nod.

“Above your ass.”

Okay. That one got a smirk. “That’s what a tramp stamp is, baby.”

Oscar let out a breath like someone had punched him in the gut. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

You turned properly, leaning back on the counter with raised eyebrows. “Do you hate it?”

His eyes were dark. “Hate it?”

“You’re just- you're looking at me like-”

He cut you off with a kiss. Rough, sudden, needy. His mouth crashed into yours like he couldn’t get close enough, and you gasped as his hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise.

“Oscar-”

“You got my number tattooed on you,” he growled, pulling back just enough to bite at your jaw. “You didn’t even tell me.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Babe, you can’t just do shit like that and not expect me to go insane.”

You giggled, breathless. “You’re already insane.”

“Yeah?” He pushed you back against the counter, hand sliding under your shirt. “What kind of crazy does it make me if I fuck you in this kitchen right now?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to. His mouth was on your throat, licking and biting down the column of your neck as his fingers yanked your shorts and underwear down in one harsh movement. You gasped, hands flying back to grip the counter as he dropped to his knees behind you.

“Stay still.”

You did not stay still. Not when he pulled your ass back toward his face and licked a long, slow stripe up your cunt like it was the only thing he’d ever eat again. Not when he groaned against you, hot breath teasing your swollen, dripping folds. Not when his tongue circled your clit, fast and filthy, while his fingers spread you open like he was inspecting something that belongedto him.

“You’re so wet already,” he muttered, one finger slipping inside, then two. “You knew what this would do to me, didn’t you?”

You moaned.

“You wanted me to find it. Wanted me to go fucking feral.”

You whined something that might have been his name, but it didn’t matter. Oscar was already up again, one hand gripping your hip, the other tugging his towel off and lining himself up behind you.

“Say it,” he rasped. “Tell me whose number that is.”

“Yours.”

“Again.”

“Yours,” you choked out. “Fuck, Oscar-”

He slammed into you with one brutal thrust. Your legs nearly gave out. He didn’t slow down. Didn’t give you a second to adjust. Just gripped your hips harder and fucked you, deep and rough and loud. Skin slapping. Kitchen echoing. Your hands clawing at the countertop like it was the only thing anchoring you to earth.

Oscar reached up and fisted your shirt higher until it bunched between your shoulder blades, baring your lower back completely. There it was. his number. His number. His girl. His fucking mark.

He growled something obscene, you didn’t catch it, and drove his hips forward harder, faster, the slap of skin loud and wet and unrelenting.

“You’re mine,” he muttered. “You’re so fucking mine.”

“Yours,” you gasped. “Oscar, please-”

“You gonna come for me?”

You nodded frantically, barely able to breathe.

“Come for me with your little tramp stamp out. Come for me knowing you’re fucking branded.” That was it. You came so hard your knees buckled, a cry strangled in your throat, everything white-hot and shaking and wet.

Oscar followed with a groan, pulling out at the last second and fisting his cock once, twice, Then he came all over your back. Hot. Messy. Right over his number. Like a signature.

You whimpered at the sensation, half-limp against the counter, heart still racing. He leaned over you, panting, and pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“That,” he said, voice wrecked, “was the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever done.”

You laughed, breathless. “What, not telling you?”

“No,” he muttered. “Getting it in the first place.”

You glanced over your shoulder, smile soft. “You really like it?”

He grinned. “Baby, I’m never letting you wear low-rise jeans in public again.”

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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 days ago

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a list of "beautiful" words for july

to try to include in your next poem/story

Acervate - growing in heaps or closely compacted clusters

Bêtise - an act of foolishness or stupidity

Calamus - the hollow basal portion of a feather below the vane; quill

Dreamery - impractical fancies

Ferronière - a pendant jewel worn (as by women in 15th century Italy and early 19th century England) in the middle of the forehead

Ictus - the recurring stress or beat in a rhythmic or metrical series of sounds

Ivorine - a substance resembling ivory in color and texture

Languescent - becoming languid or fatigued

Malgré - despite

Naupathia - seasickness

Nymphean - inhabited by nymphs

Orfevrerie - gold or silver plate; jewelry

Philter - a potion credited with magical power; a potion, drug, or charm held to have the power to arouse sexual passion

Saturnalia - excess, extravagance

Threnody - a song of lamentation for the dead; elegy

Undern - a light meal in the forenoon or in the afternoon

Verselet - a little verse

Villeggiatura - residence in the country for a holiday

Wrongous - characterized by unfairness

Zymosis - fermentation

More: Lists of Beautiful Words ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

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prettyiwa · 2 days ago

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2:41

Relationship: Sakura Haruka x Reader Content Tags: Light Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, New Relationship, Casual Affection, Profanity, Nightmare of a little more than canon-typical violence Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: This got longer than I thought it would.

It’s 02:41 when you call Sakura, well aware that there’s a good chance he won’t answer.

The phone rings three times and you’re ready to hang up, still unsure whether “call me whenever, for whatever” includes almost three in the morning following a nightmare. But he answers halfway through the final ring, voice saturated with so much sleep that it leaks from the speakers of your phone.

“Mm ‘ello?”

Guilt hits you like a truck, climbing up your throat so quickly you’re afraid you might choke. You got it, your confirmation that he’s okay, but your voice hitches when you say, “Sorry, I didn’t— I just wanted…”

There’s rustling on the other end, a huff of breath. Then he says your name, the sound of it coming off his breath, spoken with a layer of tenderness that isn’t quite there in the day. “S’m’thin’ wrong? What fuckin’ time—?”

“It’s almost three.”

His sigh comes through so clearly you could almost believe he’s sitting with you. “You okay? Y’ never call.” He’s sounding more coherent, though sleep still drips from his tongue like molasses, reluctant and slow to release him.

“It’s stupid. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”

“Shouldn’t I decide whether it’s stupid?” There’s more rustling and you imagine him sitting up now, blanket shucked to the side. What must he think of you right now? After a beat, he exhales, otherwise communicating that he’s not hanging up till he gets an answer.

You bite the inside of your cheek before saying, “I… had a nightmare. It’s—”

“If ya say it’s stupid again, I might come over there in the morning to—” His yawn interrupts his impending threat, the sound pulling out a yawn of your own. “I dunno. But ya won’t like it.” He waits a moment longer. “What happened?”

It lingers in the back of your mind, sticking to your psyche with the same persistence as a tick, poisoning you at the same time it bleeds you dry. Your fear, ever since you had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time during his last year at Furin.

“There was another brawl… Y’know… like the one from your first year?” The most he gives you is a grunt, a wordless confirmation of the memory. “And I… I guess I pissed off one of the main guys or something and so I started running. And then I finally reached you and I thought we were safe, but he found us with his friends. You should’ve been fine—you’d probably be fine if it happened in real life—but…”

“But I wasn’t.” There’s no judgment in the way he says it, no exasperation like you were expecting. Nothing to indicate that he, like you, thinks it’s stupid.

“But you weren’t. You just got… distracted, I guess. And I felt like I was frozen in place. You know, like those dreams where your limbs are too heavy to move and you’re stuck watching things unfold?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“There was just—” it grows hard to breathe all of a sudden, tears unexpectedly welling up behind your eyes until you blink, letting one go, “—so much blood.”

Your chest spasms with your inhale, making it shudder as you try to calm yourself. It’s fine. He’s alive and safe and talking to you on the phone. It’s not the first time he’s sat with you through an attack of yours, though certainly the first on the phone, and it takes you a bit to get out of your own head before you realize he’s doing something on the other line.

“Sakura?”

“‘M here.” Still, things rustle and it isn’t until you hear the familiar clinking of a belt buckle that you realize he’s getting dressed.

“What are you doing?”

The noises cease. “I… I’m comin’ over.” It sounds almost like he didn’t realize what he was doing, simply acting on impulse, but there’s the beginning of resolve to his voice that makes your skin tingle.

“Sakura, no. You don’t have—”

“I know I don’t have to. But you’re fuckin’ cryin’ over there and I—” He’s never been good at being idle while you cry, even when he knows the best thing he can do for you is to simply sit with you. “‘M coming over. It’s only gonna be ten minutes, so get… get ready for me, okay?”

“… Okay.” You can’t help the smile forms on your lips, a soft, delicate thing almost exclusively reserved for him, for the unintentionally tender moments he gives you.

“I-It’s… it’s fine if I come over, right?” And there he is, awake enough for his hesitation to rear its head and make him otherwise waver.

“You sounded so sure just a second ago.”

“Shut up. Just… It’s okay?”

“More than okay.” His relief is audible, broken up by more shuffling on the other line. “Can… Can we stay on the phone?”

Something muffles against the speaker, then there’s a shutting of a door. “Did ya think I was gonna hang up on you or somethin’?”

You laugh to yourself. “Maybe? I don’t know. You never tried coming over in the middle of the night before.”

“Yeah, and you never called before. It’s… whatever. Don’t hang up on me.”

Never could say no to him, but you suppose it’s a two-way street. Though the two of you don’t say anything else, your mind growing heavy now that you know he’s okay, the line remains open, the occasional breath telling you he’s still there. It isn’t even ten minutes later when he arrives, looking more awake than you feel.

Before guilt can begin to gnaw on your lungs again, his fist comes up, the side of it lightly bumping your forehead.

“Feel better?”

He lets you soak him in, studying him and comparing him to the image your mind conjured up. There are no bruises that decorate his knuckles, no cuts across his nose or above his brow, no swelling that distorts his face, blocking his eyes. You come forward and his arms lift before he flinches, freezing as he’s still prone to do. But he doesn’t push you away, nor does he complain when you wrap your arms around his center, fisting the fabric of his shirt.

He is warm and safe, the frantic beating of his heart beneath your touch reaffirming that he is very much alive.

“A lot better. Thank you.”

Sakura’s arms come down, his touch light at first, tightening as he grumbles, “Th-That’s what matters.”

It’s 3:23 when you two settle on your couch, talking about how quiet the world is at the hour, about the plans for the day, about nothing of importance. Sakura doesn’t react when you press into his side, sleep pulling at your tired mind, comfortable with him by your side. It’s about another hour before his heart calms enough that he’s able to join your slumber, arm wrapped around your shoulders, head coming to rest on yours.

#sakura haruka x reader #wbk x reader #wind breaker x reader #✒.ix writes #wbk.✒#now it's time for me to go to sleep bc what do you mean it's already 5

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 3 days ago

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Hi batwitch, can you help me with something? I know I'm allowed to read whatever I want that's fine and good, and because I'm a mom I read from all age groups. Problem is, since last year I've read 30 something books and the ones I enjoyed were almost all middle grade or young adult, meant for younger teens. I picked up really popular and critically acclaimed adult books from all major genres, and nothing really clicked. I got too bogged down by small annoyances and DNF'd many of them. Now I feel like I've become lazy or lost my reading skills or something, because I used to read tomes of political fantasy before covid hit. Maybe I have long covid and really did lose brain capacity, I don't know, but how does one pick up that skill again and stop feeling stupid?

I mean I think the biggest issue here is that you've clearly got the idea that there's a certain type of book you're supposed to read and that anything else is a sign of some shortcoming, when the reality is that as far as I'm concerned the books you're meant to read are the ones that capture your attention and engross you, whatever those may be.

you seem to be taking it as a sign of something negative that you're not finishing books because something about them annoys you, but I wonder what you think there is to gain by forcing yourself through books that are aggravating when all you're trying to do is read for fun. I'm a huge proponent of dropping any book that isn't landing for you, in much the same way I'd think it only reasonable for someone to slip a song they're not enjoying or cut short a movie that isn't catching their interest. that's called discernment, and it's a great skill for anyone to cultivate in regards to understanding what kind of art attracted and resonates with them.

don't get me wrong; by all means you can and should keep exploring books across a variety of genres and age ranges if you want to, because you never know when you'll find something that feels like it was made to fit you perfectly. broadening your horizons is always great! but reading broadly includes respecting books for younger readers, too. if that's where you're having fun right now, that doesn't mean you're lazy or stupid; it just means your tasted are different. you've changed, which is the single most natural thing in the world, and it shows in what you like to read right now and, probably, in countless other ways. that's fine.

#bookblr

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diabolicalevil · 3 days ago

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How would Primarchs react to falling asleep or cuddling with love interest by accident?

Primarchs reactions to falling asleep with you

gn!reader

honestlyy this is perfect timing cause I've been a lot more sleepy than normal. its probably the summer heat and all those books I pretend to read

Lion El'johnson: Sleep isn't something that comes easily to him, it means complete vulnerability so it's never accidental. He demands that you sleep in his quarters with him watching over you. If you ask him to join you, he'll usually scoff but this once he did concede. It wasn't his best sleep, he was awake almost all of it. Lion told himself he was just keeping you safe but really he was entranced to see a peaceful side of you that he hadn't seen up close before.

Fulgrim: fulgrim loves 2 party!!!! When you left the event with Fulgrim most, including you both, expected things to get frisky. But as soon as you were half out of your formal wear and tumbling into bed you were out cold immediately. Fulgrim had woken first, all smiles as he cradled you. While he lamented missing out on getting to have you he had to admit seeing you content and asleep in his arms was just as thrilling.

Perturabo: If it were anyone else he'd call them pathetic to their face. What a sight it was, you had waited for him so long you'd slipped into sleep. He dare not touch or wake you, and he certainly wouldn't have his sons move you. So he left you uncomfortably tucked into a chair. A small joy to look at as he worked.

Jaghatai Khan: No amount of pleading or bargaining could get this man to rest. you grew to accept this but you, being a baseline, still had to. Getting in a midday cat nap was far easier with Jaghatai gone, presumably racing like hell. Waking up you found yourself curled up at his side, attempting or maybe just pretending to sleep. "I don't see why you like this so much." He remarked, already preparing to leave. While he certainly didn't get it, it was nice that he tried to understand you.

Leman Russ: Despite being the father to thousands of wolf sons he seemingly never tired. Key word seemingly. In the quiet of your shared bedroom it would take at most an hour for him to doze off. Often you would too, being completely surrounded by a massive, searing hot body would do that. Waking up with him after a nap was the closest he'd get to being tender.

Rogal Dorn: Can sleep anywhere surprisingly. Transport ship, on his work table, upright in his armour, whatever works in the moment. He never usually considered his work tedious but even having you chatting to him couldn't make it interesting today. The tedium got to you as well and it wasn't long until you were asleep. Dorn knew he should continue working, but there was no one there to judge him as he scooped you up in his lap and fell asleep with you. he wore the pain glove for the next 56 hours as punishment

Konrad Curze: sleeps upside down and is very upset stupid shit like "blood flow" prevents you from joining him.

Sanguinius: You spend most of your time together in his gardens, marvelling at his plants or, in this case, sleeping in the sun. There is nothing he loves more than cradling you in his wings. He wakes up long before you but not once does leaving even cross his mind. You're the only thing he truly has and he will relish it in this moment.

Ferrus Manus: Unsurprisingly it is hard and annoying to cuddle a man with metal arms. He's usually freezing to the touch and rather than wait until it warms up you sleep on his chest and he lays starfish. He claims it's just a necessity you must tolerate but he does think it's kinda funny.

Angron: The nails are far too loud for him to achieve sleep unless he is completely spent. He does however watch you sleep. Often. He'll hold your hand against his head like a cold cloth to a fever. His voice is too loud to speak aloud and he dare not wake you so he merely kneels by you and thinks. Thanks, apologies, confessions, whatever comes to mind in the moment. The nails punish him for it, but when else would he get a moment to let those thoughts form?

Roboute Guilliman: You were already in his lap while he was working. Just having you next to him is enough to make the work more bearable. When you fall asleep he takes his first break in hours, leaning down to kiss your hair and whisper his thoughts and frustrations to you. All things he tried to keep to himself as to not worry you.

Mortarion: worlds most annoying bastard refuses to cuddle. Shocker. Most you'll get is using his thigh as a pillow. Once he's sure, like 100% sure that you're asleep, he'll start petting you.

Magnus: Surprisingly nice to fall asleep around, he acts as a human dream catcher. He is a little annoyed you clocked out while with him, he had something to say. (Then again when does he not) but quickly finds that watching you lounging in his absurdly large furniture is very amusing.

Horus Lupercal: pillows 🤤 He's got one of the most "strong man" builds of the primarchs, that is to say kinda pudgy. Not to mention his boobing breasts. He was made to take naps on and he knows it. Often suggests it and when you do fall asleep he won't move for anything or anyone.

Lorgar Aurelian: Usually doesn't lay with you, something something holy purity. Instesd he'll sit on or next to the bed and speak with you until and even after you fall asleep. Big fan of reading you scripture.

Vulkan: He's like a furnace so any naps or cuddling won't last long, much to your chagrin of course but he enjoys what time he does get. Likes to cuddle most when you're in his room, far far away from noise or harm. Watching you rest never fails to remind him of what he fights to protect in humanity.

Corvus Corax: Doesn't sleep often but is very easily woken, even by primarch standards. Utterly fascinated by your ability to sleep soundly, vows to have anyone who disturbs your rest sentenced to death by ravens. Alfred Hitchcock Style.

Alpharius/Omegon: sandwich 🤤 For the "this is the other half of my soul" guys they sure know how to bicker. Always arguing one has more of you despite laying in between them. They never fall asleep but they pretend to as you doze off. Instead, they watch you. Intently. Recording every slight twitch or breath and slotting it away in the deepest parts of their memory.

ok thank u 4 the ask anon nap time for meee

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dreamwatch · 2 days ago

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Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest

Wayne dies on a Monday in October. Eddie doesn’t remember much after that.

It’s not unexpected, not entirely, Wayne had been sick for months, but still it felt like the world shifted sharply to left, tipping him off the steady path of his ordinary life into a sinkhole he couldn’t see out of. He got the call and then he just… stopped.

Since then it’s been a steady stream of condolences and casseroles; he’s never eaten a fucking casserole in his life and he has a freezer full of them now. In the months leading up to that Monday in October Eddie had tested the mental waters in what it would be like if (when) Wayne left him. He’d be stoic, he’d be organised, he had Wayne’s wishes written down all carefully detailed, from the music to the readings, to which funeral home would be handling the arrangements. Wayne had done everything he could in life to ensure Eddie had to think as little as possible after his death. And still Eddie imploded.

He was useless. Stupid and pathetic and weak. Wayne deserved better. He had always deserved better than Eddie.

When he made the mistake of saying that to Steve he had been firmly corrected.

Soft fingers took him by the chin turning his face so that he couldn’t hide from Steve’s gaze.

“You were everything to him. You are everything to me.”

He fell asleep in Steve’s arms that night, curled safely into him, praying for the world to right itself by the morning. But it didn’t.

In his daze he hadn’t noticed people were arriving back in Hawkins for the funeral because Steve had taken care of that too. It wasn’t until a familiar figure had wandered into his room and sat on the end of the bed that it clicked for him. Steve had taken care of everything, including bringing the band back to Hawkins.

He felt the soft touch of Gareth’s hands on the back of his calf.

“Hey. Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”

Eddie wants to speak, he wants to tell him it’s okay, of course it’s okay, Gareth has kids and a job and he can’t drop everything just because Eddie’s old man passed away. But his mouth has been sealed shut since that Monday. No words seem adequate, they don’t feel enough. And he’s too tired to pick through them, too exhausted to his bones to even want to speak. What’s the point, honestly?

So instead he nods, mute and paralysed with grief and Gareth climbs onto the bed behind him and pulls him tight to his chest. Eddie’s hands find Gareth’s and they lie like that until the sun drops behind the trees and Eddie finally falls asleep.

“And who are your pallbearers?”

Eddie’s laggy, still three questions back thinking about the list of songs he’s handed over, but Steve is speaking before the question even registers. Familiar name after familiar name, all taken care of.

“Mike said he’ll step in if you’re not up to it,” Steve tells him with a gentle squeeze of his hand.

So not just names, but back ups, reserves so that no matter what he wants it’s covered. Is it wrong that he’s so grateful for this? To be allowed to check out and not have to think, just let Steve point him in the right direction, tell him what he needs to know, and only what he needs to know right now, not giving him anything more than he can absorb in that moment? It feels wrong. It feels like he’s letting Wayne down.

Matty and Jeff arrive the day after Gareth, and they all hug silently because they know there is nothing to be said. There’s always someone at the house with him, but he’s grateful for it because it’s not just him that needs the support. Steve is juggling everything alone and he loved Wayne just as much, feels the grief just as much. Who is sheltering him while he shelters Eddie? But with everyone home Eddie breathes a little easier for it, he can see that Steve does too. There’s no casseroles coming from Corroded Coffin, just good old fashioned love.

Corroded Casseroles. He laughs to himself and then instantly feels guilty for it.

He sits on the side of the bed, shirt and tie on, shoes… somewhere, trying to decide whether or not to tie his hair back. People still judge him in Hawkins, would they be pointing their fingers at him for that? Probably. He grabs the hair tie and scrapes his hair back, combing it with his fingers as neatly as he ever has.

The bedroom door swings open and Steve walks in, suited and booted, looking so elegant, and Eddie is so in love, so proud to have this man at his side. Eddie’s been good at keeping it together this last week, or he thinks he has anyway, but it hits him suddenly that this is it. This is the end. This is goodbye. So he lets himself cry this time, doesn’t try and hold it back because it’s just the two of them.

Steve sits beside him, wipes his tears away and then pulls his hair out of the hair band, letting Eddie’s curls loose.

“He’d be pissed if you started worrying about appearances now.”

A wet laugh escapes him because yeah, Wayne’s always been a ‘fuck the neighbours’ kind of guy. Hair down it is.

He glides his hand over the top of the mahogany coffin before grabbing the handle, Steve on the opposite side of him. Gareth stands behind him, Dustin his opposite, and Jeff and Matty at the back. He was so close to asking Mike to step in for him but in the end it felt too much like running away, too close to cowardice and he’s been done with that shit for years. This he can do for Wayne. It pales in comparison to everything Wayne did for him.

I'm sorry, don't come for me!

Boring A/N: I had decided to sit this event out because I'm just cooked to be honest with you, just exhausted and burned out and my brain is not in the game for lot's of boring reasons. But I saw some entries today and it inspired me so here we are, Dream back on her bullshit, killing Wayne and making Eddie suffer. I'm sorry! I'm not sure how many more I'll be able to do, but if I do manage another one I will do my best not to kill anyone. Scouts honour... maybe...

@the-unforgivenn

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #corrodedcoffinfest #corroded coffin #gareth stranger things #corrodedcoffinfest: year two #cw grief #cw parent death

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ooc-miqojak · 1 day ago

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While I will repeatedly tell people that the EA of our millennial youth is gone, and a cash devouring monster is in its place... part of this is because people don't understand moderation. You don't go to the buffet and put EVERYTHING - including food you don't like - on your plate just because it's there, then complain about all the variety.

Some packs are just for decorating or dress up, and you won't like the style. It's meant for us to mix and match the packs we like - honestly, that's probably also why some features overlap in some packs... not everyone will own every expansion/game pack/etc - but too much overlap is obnoxious and money grubby and lazy feeling.

Buuut... say you really aren't into werewolves and going out to hunt meat, and peeing on the ground? But some of the gameplay seems fun? Well, now there will be faeries who rummage up plants to eat instead of raw meat, and fill a similar game niche in playstyle while filling a different aesthetic niche.

Many things can be true at once:

- Is EA now a soulless husk of a gaming company that has systematically ruined all the best franchises of millennial youth while milking them for every last, buggy dollar?

YES.

- Is EA polishing dog turds to sell to people?

YES.

- Do people need to buy all the extras for the game? All 95+ packs?

No. You can just put the lettuce on your sandwich - when you go to a sandwich shop you don't get EVERY vegetable on your sandwich, either. Some packs just make things annoying, or have stupid clothes or some such.

- Are people at fault for continuing to buy the turds, then complaining that they taste like shit?

...Yes. Stop paying for literal dog turds, you guys. Just say no. (There are free ways to play that are not hard to find, if the addiction is mighty, but the desire to not pay a greedy, uncaring corporation is mightier. I would know.)

Corporations understand 'line go up' - profits - and consumers are the ones who make that line go up. So stop being a mindless, capitalist drone and stop funneling money into EA's dog-turd-polishing-machine... don't do it for Dragon Age, not for Mass Effect, not even for the Sims.

If they are making a profit off of bad business practices and unfinished, buggy packs while cranking them out every few months? STOP buying! The execs don't care if you complain - they see you bought it, and profits increased. So they do it again. That's capitalism - the consumer isn't right, the dollar is.

just saw someone say "it feels like the sims is starting to turn into a cash grab :(" and i'm like. babygirl i don't know how to tell you this but

we're at 95 packs and counting. i think we crossed that bridge a long time ago

#ea games #ea #the sims 4 #ts4 #the sims #anti capitalism #capitalism at its finest #sincerely there is one sailor of free seas in particular whom you can get all of this free from #stop feeding the corporate machine or they will never change

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jbbuckybarnes · 22 hours ago

Text

2am in Europe [OP81]

— Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader —

Author's note: I felt bad doing one for Lan but not one for the Aussie idiot that I'm rooting for the most, so here ya go. Cutie patootie Osc reporting for duty (look at that gif, charged for stealing hearts, effective immediately!)

Warnings: Lots of little time jumps because I'm rusty with writing fiction. No proofreading. Unfortunately shitty formatting because I'm posting from my phone. There are two allusions made to naughty vibes but nothing is named specifically.

Prompt Used: "You woke me up at 2am to cuddle?"

You didn't really expect to end up dating the rich kid you were tutoring in German, but here you were. In the middle of the night, middle of the summer, middle of Monaco. Your sleep cycle was thoroughly fucked from keeping up with his racing schedule during early summer. Two hours past midnight you were usually fast asleep next to your personal white boy of the month, or decade. Not today.

You tossed around for a while, considered just getting your Switch out and play games until you got tired but that didn't really make sense either. Instead you tried to peel Osc's hand from under his head. His face moved to pout. You had to hold back a laugh.

"What..." one of his eyes opened the tiniest bit and you gave him the most helpless look you could.

"Can we cuddle?" He looked at his smartwatch, "You woke me up at 2am to cuddle?"

You shifted your weight, "I can't fall asleep."

He shuffled his body around a bit, "Well, fuck me, I guess you made it a shared problem now."

He held his arms open for you to curl up into.

"That sounds like an accusation." You peeked up at him.

"Well, it was. You can be glad you're cute." He brushed your hair aside.

"I have no idea how you can just sleep on demand no matter the time zone." You whispered.

"It's called working out over an hour every day." He grumbled semi-upset.

"Another accusation covered up as a fact." You pouted at him and got a soft smile back.

"Well, you never work out with me." "I don't like your narrow definition of that." You narrowed your eyes.

"My bad, you're a support role about 10 minutes of every other day." "I'll throw you out of your own bed." "With what strength?"

There was some commotion and then a thud.

"I guess I kinda deserved that one." He blinked still half asleep but also a bit shocked now sitting up on the floor next to the bed.

"Support role, pff." You turned around, arms crossed, lying down, pouting.

"Yeah nah, I'm not taking that back." You grabbed a throw pillow and aced the throw.

"My god, do I live with an assassin?" He got back into bed next to you.

"Say one more rude thing and you'll find out." Your eyebrow rose up. He knew this face, if he didn't chill out with the light bullying now, other things would be thrown, including your entire body and he wasn't in the mood to be bodyslammed at 2am before a work weekend.

"Truce?" "For what? I couldn't sleep and you're bullying me instead of being a good partner."

He blinked at you to scan how serious you meant it before grabbing you and locking you into a tight big spoon hug, "My bad."

His hands softly wandered around your body, no further comment added until he could hear your breathing slow a bit, "You're gonna be the death of me."

—

You wake up with his hands between your back and the mattress and with your hand in his hair. His sleeping face was perfectly positioned on your chest, facing you. You drew circles in his hair with your thumb, watching him sigh with a little smile. This cutie patootie had crashed into a wall at 220kph just two months prior and walked it off. His first reaction after watching you freak out about it to get it out of your system was a casual, "I mean someone has to take care of you until you get old, therefore I can't die."

It was almost infuriating how adorable this idiot was. It was also the only thing keeping you from crashing out at his stupidity some days. The sacrifices you made...

His body shifted a bit, eyes still closed, but his face moved up and got burried in your neck with another sigh of relaxation. His breathing picked up a bit before you felt a soft kiss on your neck.

"Mornin', sleep stealer." He traced his lips across your neck. "You stole your own sleep, bully."

His face came up above you, "I'll just assume I'm gonna have to profusely apologize for that for the next few days."

"Profusely..." You rolled your eyes, that man didn't know how to profusely apologize unless he genuinely fucked up badly, which had happened maybe three times in the years you've known him.

He gave you a grin, "You're cute when you have a bit of an additute."

"You're cute when you're asleep. Y'know, quiet and all that." He chuckled at that, "Do nothing, win."

"That only works when it comes to speaking, if you don't do the dishes today I'll call your mom." He sighed fake annoyed. "Yes, my majesty." Your face lit up at that.

Today was a prep day for the Monaco GP. In other words, you both were preparing to be both bored and surrounded by a lot of fake people. Not that this wasn't already a feature of his job in general.

"You look too fancy in that." "...it's the Monaco Gran Prix, how the fuck is there a too fancy?" He looked at you with an unreadable expression trying to figure out how to answer that in a diplomatic way.

"I don't like when you look that good without me next to you the entire time." He bit the inside of his cheek. You couldn't quite place if he meant that in a protective or possessive way.

"Oh...Well, I mean I'm only gonna hang out on Bre's balcony for most of the weekend anyway." You shrugged.

"And on Sunday?" He got closer, picking a hair off your dress.

"Depends on how bad you make Charles crashout on Saturday." You both smirked at that.

"If get pole and win you'll have to be my +1 for that ball they always invite the winner to." "Anything to see you in a proper suit again." He did that signature laugh that almost sounded like a scoff.

"Wear something less...that, when you're at Bre's and save this one for Sunday, yeah?" He eyed your body. Well, apparently possessive would've been the right guess earlier.

"Damn, a man trying to tell me what I can wear. How about you actually buy me something nicer for Sunday instead?"

"Ok, so, um, I fear the only thing that could top this would be a wedding dress." Your mouth was agape.

"Message received, damn!" You walked over to your closet and looked for a less intense dress for Friday and Saturday.

—

You spent your Friday a bit bored. Free Practice in Monaco was exceptionally boring unless it's your first few times seeing a race. Your man came home when you were already asleep and left before you woke up on Saturday.

On the way to Bre's you always walked past a private entrance to the paddock. This year on Saturday an "I'm watching you gesture" was interchanged with Charles as he entered there with his entourage. The man half laughing at it and half terrified of you. You had only spoken briefly twice before and you tend to come across quite confident apparently.

FP3 from the balcony was uneventful that day, but Qualifying was your little highlight. You watched Leclerc get better and better times each try, the man was keeping you on your toes because Osc was never far behind in his improvements. The last 30 seconds of Q3 felt like an eternity.

Oscar outdoes Charles by a hundredth of a second, confirming a McLaren Monaco curse for Leclerc. You were celebrating with the rest of the people in the apartment for the next hour. If he didn't win tomorrow you were personally gonna blame a race engineer for it or throw something at Charles.

—

You were once again cuddled up in bed together that evening. The fluffy throw blanket was cocooned around you and the TV playing a fireplace was on mute.

"So, I was thinking, maybe you join me tomorrow?" He broke the silence.

"I mean I planned on watching from–" "No, I mean like, actually joining me. Walking in together, watching me from the garage, all that jazz." He looked down at where you were positioned.

"Like...as someone you know or–" "As my partner."

You blinked a couple times at him, long enough for him to add, "You don't have to, I know it's a lot of...everything."

"No, no, I'd love to." You saw him exhale in relief.

"You only win Monaco for the first time once." "If you fuck it up I'll have a bigger crashout than Charles today." He laughed at that.

Before you fell asleep you mumbled, "You better put effort into your outfit for tomorrow morning." "Yes, my feisty majesty." A small kiss landed on your temple.

—

"You good?" He looked at you trying to read your face, you nodded. You had his entourage around you as you entered the paddock hand-in-hand, you in your fancy dress and him in his linen button-up looking like a proper rich kid that went to boarding school. The social media team stayed at a distance today, but taking videos and pictures nonetheless.

"I'll never get why the others never hold hands." You mumbled and heard him chuckle.

"You underestimate how many people in these circles date as business people instead of actual lovers." He squeezed your hand and you smiled at him.

"Well, hello loverboy." That got him blushing a bit.

"I see you're giving the people what they want already." You laughed at that and nodded.

Most of the VIP experience you were already used to since he'd gotten you passes on several occasions, but this time you were dragged into the garage before the race and he handed you his pair of headphones and left you around a ant colony of papaya.

You stood there watching him the way you always did whenever it was race day. Tense. Also rooting for Kimi, who you jokingly referred to as your child whenever you were talking about him to Oscar. Monaco did one thing to these men, made them go insane if they weren't first, especially Charles. You could see the red menace try to battle your man several times, to no avail. You were already ready to hear another crashout media day of everyone asking if they can't just make it a Mariokart race.

The cameras of the F1TV broadcast landed on you, hard to miss among the screens around you that weren't focused on cockpit cameras and metrics. You stayed focused on the screen with your idiot on it, only giving the broadcast screen a short glimpse to see the little "Oscar Piastri's partner" description pop up. That made your heart jump, you couldn't lie.

Of course he won, it's not like it was hard to control possible overtakes. Not too long after you were standing close to the dad of P3, Lando. A visor lifted up while heading your way, smile transfering to the eyes, cheeks squished, gloves thrown to the wayside.

You grabbed the helmet past the two stewards who you knew weren't allowed to move, "Monaco winner, you better enjoy the energy up there."

"Didn't want you to have a crashout of Charles proportions." He opened the connecting pieces under his helmet and pushed it up, almost throwing it on the floor, the balaclava following it, before grabbing your face back with both of his hands and giving you a kiss.

"Unexpected." You laughed a little perplexed. "Well, now that I can." He shrugged with his boyish signature smile before walking off to the typical next proceedings.

*1st Monaco win for my Y/N. Deserved for putting up with my work schedule.* Was written on the champagne bottle, the picture sent to you not too long after. Perhaps there was a tear in your eye about it, but who's to tell? You watched him soak in the energy of winning this fabled race on the top step of the podium. After that, all the media and the team losing their shit right after you finally had him with you again. Absolutely drenched in champagne for you don't know if it was the 2nd or 3rd time that day, looking at you with a golden retriever energy of a thousand suns.

"Go shower, we have a ball to be at later." You winked at him before he grabbed your face with both hands for a quick kiss. Your face changed at the taste of champagne, not your favorite for sure, making you both laugh.

"I already know those comments will be WILD today." You shook your head smiling at how willingly he was showing his love for you.

"They're still on the I don't have emotions narrative as if every F2 video of me doesn't exist." He shrugged before grabbing your hand, walking with you towards the building to take probably his second shower post-race.

—

"Oh boy." You muttered seeing him in his entirely new suit and he looked up at you with a slightly raised brow.

"I see what you meant about my dress." Now he had a smirk on his face while fixing his suit jacket in front of you.

"Too bad we actually have places to be." He said walking past you to grab his perfume. You giggled at that. He had a little self-satisfied smile on his face reflecting in the mirror. He held his hand out back towards you and you grabbed it before he led you to the elevator and then the car picking you up.

The entrance you two made was definitely not comfortable for either of you, too many people taking pictures, but he was used to it and you were just trusting the process. The night was spent chatting up rich people and royalty. Which, to be fair, was also not comfortable for you, but some of them were quite pleasant to talk to and you knew being polite to powerful people could always be helpful in the future. You were still looking forward to your couch nonetheless.

—

After the most people-filled day of the year so far you were both half-dead in bed at 2am, still buzzing from the day. You in one of his oversized shirts, him in the button-up shirt he had on under his suit, combined with sweatpants, high fashion. He cackled staring at his phone screen and you looked up and over at him. The phone screen he was holding towards you showed a news page Instagram post titled "Fans obsessed with double hard launch of Oscar Piastri" with images of you two from post-race and from the black tie event.

You spent the next hour scrolling social media, looking at the little compilations and reactions of his fans. They loved his little blush as you two entered the paddock, the way he almost threw his helmet on the ground before he grabbed you for the post-race kiss, the champagne dedicated to you and your shy smiles when entering the royal event.

Osc's face changed to a wide smile next to you at some point, "Huh?"

He typed something on his screen before you got a push notification for a post you were tagged in.

You opened it to a full photo series of him soaked by champagne after taking the team picture, smiling at you widely, kissing you, your reaction to the taste and your laughs right after. He captioned it "try not to smile challenges hate to see her approaching." The comments were frankly exploding at seeing Oscar proudly in love.

You smiled over at him already looking at you with a soft expression, "I love you" – "I love you too"

Masterlist is linked in my profile <3

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #papaya boys #oscar piastri x fem!reader #op81 #op81 x reader #op81 x you #op81 x y/n #oscar piastri x you #mine #f1 fanfic

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