#despite how much it destroys my soul to not have them

[runabout-river]

No matter what Gege does with Gojo, I don’t think it will be satisfying for me

I considered every option for what could possibly happen with Gojo, regardless of how likely I think they are, and I genuinely can't find myself considering any of them a satisfying conclusion.

**1. He is dead and no one will mention him in the last chapter.**

Hate this. So much. Random civilians in Shibuya were shown respect by Yuji in the middle of chaos and panic, but nobody has ANYTHING nice to say about Gojo?? Since the fight ended, we got Kusakabe saying he is at fault for not killing Yuji and Shoko calling him an idiot (endearingly) for not destroying Geto's body. Lovely.

**2. He is dead and somebody will say something or we will be shown a grave.**

Better but still bad. I feel like the ship has sailed at this point. They had a chance while reflecting on the fight and we got nothing. Megumi and Shoko were at Tsumiki's grave and... we got nothing. I think it's pretty safe to say no one will be mourning him in the last chapter, they're already going on missions after all. And a simple mention feels incredibly cold and empty.

**3. He is dead but will come back to life due to his soul still not departing and sacrificing one of the Six Eyes in a binding vow.**

I won't comment on how possible or not this is because Yuta managed to return to his body simply by being in proximity of Rika. If Gege wants to write it, he can. However, we are talking about the last chapter of the manga and this would absolutely take away the spotlight from Yuji. Not to mention that this route needs groundwork that I don't think 19 pages can provide for. ALSO, this still doesn't explain why nobody is sad or willing to acknowledge him because, to them, he is dead.

**4. He is actually alive and that's why nobody has been shown to be sad about him.**

Would make sense in terms of characters like Yuji and Yuta not showing any emotion towards him. But this isn't like Nobara's situation. Like I said, it needs build up. A character like Gojo should be shown making his choice, not just appearing out of nowhere. It would add absolutely nothing to his arc and would honestly be pure fanservice.

**5. The dream theory.**

I don’t know how much you've heard about this but there is a theory going around that these last chapters or more have all been a dream. I won't do any analysis on the validity of it because this isn't important to my point. "Who's dream?" is the actual question here.

**a) It is Yuji's dream.**

You want to tell me somebody as kind and compassionate as Yuji has no place for his teacher in his dream of a happier tomorrow? Get out of here.

**b) It is a collective dreamlike state, a product of Sukuna's activation of the Merger despite the rules imposed on it.**

Again, nobody, not a single soul, has it in their heart to include Gojo in their dream? In any way other than criticizing him? It would go against all the care Yuji and Yuta have shown for him and be a genuinely awful characterization. It would show he was actually not loved at all, something we know isn't true.

**c) It is Gojo's dream.**

So, Gojo is dreaming of a world where his body is used as a weapon, his students don't care enough to even mention his name and life goes on as if he never existed? He can imagine himself being blamed but not having a place in his ideal future? Do you want me to kill myself?

I would really like to hear opinions or other options if you have any. Right now, this is all just sad.

*Cracks Knuckles*

First of all, I have read the dream theory and I believe it's possible but for now we take the last chapters at face value.

Yes, the lack of any mourning for Gojo (and Choso) is sad and a sour note at the end of the manga. We already had this lack of regard for his death during the Shinjuku fights. There I could understand though how the characters pushed all their feelings to the side once Gojo had been defeated.

They needed to act fast and steadfast, so we got most of their concern and other emotions while Gojo was still fighting.

Now though there is no excuse anymore. JJK had alwasy been a little loose when it came to the slower and reflective moments but Gege had the space the previous chapter to fill it with somehting meaningful. Instead we got an unnecessary explanation of the New Shadow Style school system that's just plain unimportant three chapters before the end.

So in that regard, yes, Gege fumbled it. Even in the driest part of Gojo's death, there still should've been an earth-shattering shake up of the status quo the same way his birth had changed the jujutsu world. But that was also lacking because chapter 270 basically erased all conflict in the story.

So what will happen now?

Your option 1) hate it, too :D

Option 2) nothing to add. Perfectly said how Gojo should've already been talked about instead of letting it go to the last chapter where he most likely won't get centre stage.

Now to Option 3/4) First, the last chapter will be longer than 19 pages. It was either double or tripple the length of a normal chapter so there is more time to flesh the last things out. Second, I have my own theory on how Yuta using Kenjaku's CT on Gojo's body and then getting ejected from it, might've have permanently revived Gojo.

I don't like Gojo being just alive though because that would be anticlimatic and detrimental to the high stakes and emotions that came before. It would be just one more thing in this super happy ending everyone got (except Choso). What could work though is Gojo's body being alive but in a vegetatitve state. Then it would be open ended how his story would go on.

Now the thing about the dream theory is: Yuji only imagines the good things. That's why characters where their death was ambiguous are all alive and only those who had been 100% confirmed dead are dead. With Yuji doing the dreaming, he would push negative feelings about death away and mourning is one such feeling and he had done exactly that previously as well.

If this theory comes true, Yuji would be mourning way more than just Gojo's death at the end. He would also be mourning the good end he envisioned for everyone. And that's sad but also... what I would prefer in contrast with this sugar cloud of a happy ending.

[vivalarevolution]

𝓖𝓸𝓭𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓭𝓪𝓷

Paul Atreides x Reader

Request: „Paul Atreides falling in love with his father's younger wife, whom he recently married for political reasons, yet he remains loyal and in love with Jessica.‟

A/N: Request from anon. A very interesting concept that I thoroughly enjoyed writing. As always, I hope you will like reading my work, especially since this is my first attempt at writing for Paul Atreides.

Please remember that english is not my native language and mistakes might happen.

She reminded him of a goddess , a being from ancient books that survived the destruction of Old Terra. She was beautiful like Aphordite , full of warmth as Hestia and innocent and sensitive as Persephone. Yet her eyes were full of sadness , like those belonging to Oizys.

And the young duke hated it.

He hated her sadness. The sadness which was caused by his own father. Leto Atreides married her , but there was no love between them , there was only darkness and misery that was draining the young woman from the inside. In Paul's eyes, his father's actions were cruel. He did not deserve such a delicate soul , and much less he deserve it to destroy it.

He tried , almost desperately , to understand the man when his eyes followed him with his own mother , but in vain. Because he loved the woman he could not have too much to forgive him for what he did to her.

So he stopped. He stopped looking for forgiveness , which never existed.

Instead, he surrendered to the arms of forbidden desire , surrendered to the feelings he had been hiding so deeply inside himself, surrendered to her will without her even knowing.

His shadow began to follow hers, her steps became his steps , her breath became his breath.

And suddenly Paul Atreides became everything to her that his father never was. He became her protector , her rock , her guardian , her savior.

But that wasn't enough for him. He wanted more. He had to have more.

He found her in her chambers , she was sitting on one of the many cushions, reading. But when she felt a presence behind her she stopped , turning her head to the side , looking out of the corner of her eye at the young duke.

-Paul - she said softly , turning fully in his direction - What brings you to me? - she asked him , closing the book , which suddenly no longer seemed interesting to her.

He didn't answer , not immediately.

But as the silence lengthened between them , the tension begin to grow as well.

-I want you - he replied suddenly , and despite the seriousness of the sentence his voice was composed , remarkably calm.

-What? - the woman whispered, shocked.

His words seemed to cut through the air like the sharpest knife, leaving behind a mark that was impossible to erase.

-I want you - he repeated , slowly approaching her figure.

She watched his movements , stopping only when the brunet kneeled before her.

-But you already have me - she said , placing her hand on his pale cheek.

Paul grabbed her wrist and closed his eyes allowing her addictive scent to dull his senses.

-Not in the way I would have wanted - he confessed , tasting her soft skin with his lips.

At his words, the woman pulled her hand from his hold , moving away from her husband's son.

-We can't. You know it's forbidden - she announced, furrowing her eyebrows.

-I know - he responded , getting up from his knees to approach her yet again - But no matter how cruel the truth is , my father does not love you , he never will. And I hate him for it, I hate him for marrying a woman he is not able to love.

-The world has always been cruel Paul. You cannot change it , you are in no position to. You are not a god - she said with a shadow of sorrow in her voice , feeling tears involuntarily flow into her eyes.

-But I can change the part of the world you belong to.There will be no more misery , no more pain - he declared, approaching her , trapping her between the wall and himself.

-Don't say that. I am begging you , don't say that - she whispered , closing her eyes, trying to push the brunet away from her, but to no avail.

The man kissed her cheekbones , nuzzling his face into her thick locks.

-Tell me the truth - he asked , but was met with silence - Tell me the truth - he repeated , but his voice no longer sounded familiar.

-I love you more than life itself Paul. I'm willing to die if it means I can taste your lips, even for a slight moment - she admitted, but although her words were sincere, it seemed to her as if someone pulled them out of her, without her permission.

-And I love you - he said - And believe me when I say this. I will never stop loving you. My love for you will only cease to exist when the sun will rise in the west and set in the east , when the seas go dry and mountains will blow in the wind like leaves.

-One day , you will regret those words Paul Atreides - she professed , feeling her breathing become more shallow and her eyes more clouded.

-Never - he growled , before attacking her full, pink lips.

His kisses were the opposite of him. They were burning , chaotic , dangerous.

But despite this , she desperately grabbed his shoulders , trying to pull him closer and closer. Their hands traveled over each other's bodies , as their lips tasted one another, never having enough. They seemed to have forgotten about everything except themselves.

Suddenly the mortal world no longer existed. There was no fear , sadness , or despair. In their place came lust , desire and love. Feelings that were forbidden to them.

But they didn't stopped.

They didn't stop when their bodies merged into one. They didn't stop when the first rays of sun appeared on the walls of her chambers.

They didn't stop because there was nothing strong enough to separate Paul Atreides from his goddess.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Die Happy - Sanji x Reader

SUMMARY: Sanji is disillusioned about your lack of interest in him. Someone like you could pick and choose among princes, kings and emperors. What's a measly cook to you? Nevertheless, his lovesick heart continuously rejoices when you choose him to waste time with.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.3k

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi

Part 2 -> "Maelstrom"

Sanji has never believed in ghouls, witches, faeries and the like. However, when he met you his belief began to shatter:

Like a dark sorceress covering the whole world with a curse, you lured all the influential, important men like fire does moths. At first, Sanji fooled himself that all those generals, merchants and noblemen only wanted something pretty to hang onto their shoulders but reality destroyed his comforting illusion when the said men offered riches most people couldn’t even fathom. If you asked them for an armada to sail to the Grand Line, they’d only ask what type of wood you’d prefer. Despite something akin to world domination lying at your fingertips, you always laughed those offers off, telling your powerful suitors that you would think about their words and get back to them.

Sanji once asked whether you’re truly considering marrying one of the generals or kings. Some more naive part of him hoped you’d say no. Alas, the truth, once again, was his adversary:

“Obviously!” you giggled at his silly question. “But I won’t marry the first one that offers me wealth and whatnot. First, I’d like to see all of my options and the world…” your voice trailed away as you vaguely pointed around the two of you. “Well, it’s a big place. Many more kingdoms to visit.”

But to his own demise, the cook was a fool unlike any other. He had no chance at winning your heart, no matter how much he’d try. Still, his untamable desire egged him on, whispering sweet songs of your grace. Even if he could taste your lips only in his imagination, he could do his best for you to have a reason to keep him around like a dog that begs for scraps at his master’s table.

Sanji knows he’s only hurting himself, only furthering his desperation when he makes you smile or earns a speck of your affection. Every dawn, he promises to free himself from your sorcery but when dusk comes and his left with the Moon, his only confidant, he realizes that he could never possess enough power to cut himself free from you. You’ve pierced his heart right through and if he pulls your knife out of his chest, he’s bound to bleed out and die. It’s better if he lets you have complete control over his mind and soul - it’s the only way he will make it out alive.

He’s left cold and lonely on that night. Soft, silver moonlight washes over him through the small porthole in the wall of his room. The sea is almost black at this hour of the night but it becomes a mystical sapphire when the Moon’s glow washes over the lazy waves making them glisten like pure diamonds.

Diamonds… maybe if he had diamonds, you’d see him as a man and not just a shipmate.

Quiet knocking on his door wakes Sanji up from his thoughts. Before he has a chance to get up and open the door or tell the guest to come in, the mysterious visitor enters out of their own volition.

Your tired face makes Sanji think about painting in museums - the ones all connoisseurs consider “classics” and “timeless”. The silk shirt you’re wearing looks not only awfully expensive but, which is much worse, to be a men’s size. Its hem ends right underneath your buttcheeks, threatening to expose your body should you lift your hands. In the darkness of his cabin, you appear as nothing beyond a phantom, a hallucination born out of desperation. And just like a ghost, you’ve come to haunt and torment him in the sweetest of ways; in a way only you can.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks in a raspy voice. Sanji is doing a great job at appearing unaffected by your rather scantily clad form.

Carefully, you close the door behind you and walk towards him. Your skin glows when you step into the rays of soft moonlight pouring in through the porthole. Dishevelled hair, half-closed eyes and a slightly puffy face - Sanji has imagined you this way countless times but never actually seen. He can feel his body burning up, telling him to seize the opportunity, to wash you in the most charming and suave words he can think of.

“Nami kicks while sleeping,” you say quietly. “I swear to god my whole side is bruised at this point. Can I sleep with you?”

Sanji has to remind himself to breathe and to do so calmly. He’s cool, completely in control of himself. His mouth feels unbearably dry.

“‘Course you can,” he answers casually. With a swift move of his arm, he lifts the duvet. “Come on in.”

The pure bliss that suddenly appears on your face forces Sanji to take in a sharp, ragged breath. It’s an expression he also imagined one too many times when his desperation poisons his mind - not that he’s willing to admit it even to himself. He knows it’s wrong to even entertain a scenario in which you would grace him with such an enraptured face. Still, his will is not as strong as he often makes it out to be.

“Sanji, you are my salvation,” you tell him while getting under the covers with him.

“I know, love.”

It’s both strange and natural, the way your body fits his. As though the two of you have done it so much the memory of your muscles twists and turns your limbs to rest in the most comfortable and intimate way. The odd familiarity makes Sanji think that maybe in another lifetime this is how he always sleeps. He wishes he could find himself in that reality even for a second. Alas, it’s too far out of his reach.

“Damn, you’re really comfortable,” you mumble against his chest. Your hot breath makes him shiver. “And warm. I don’t think I’ll be going back to my bed.” A small grin of cosiness appears on your face - one that Sanji will never forget.

His broad chest and strong arm normally go unnoticed by you but now they’re like a fortress. And just like high stone walls are an unspoken promise of security and happiness, his firm hold on your body is a silent oath of a good night's sleep.

“Stay as long as you want,” he whispers back to you. 

Maybe if you weren’t so exhausted, you’d notice that his words aren’t a statement but a plea. They’re the last thing you remember before drifting off to a restful slumber.

Your breathing slows down and gains a steady, shallow rhythm. Keeping you close to his chest, Sanji allows his hands to gently brush against your arm and back. His movements are feathery, almost fearful. He wouldn’t want you to wake up and change your mind about spending the night beside him - he can indulge in his heart’s desire but he must do so carefully.

“If you only gave me a chance,” he whispers into the night.

Knowing you’re asleep and bound to remain ignorant of his affections, Sanji kisses the top of your head. His lips linger against your hair while he takes in the scent that haunts him day and night. Unknowingly, his grip around your body tightens at that moment as though he has suddenly grown most terrified of having you disappear. Too many nights he’s dreamed of this exact scenario only to wake up to a cold, empty bed.

When the dawn arrives and you leave his arms, this little moment of affection won't mean anything to you. It means nothing now. Sanji knows this very well. He doesn't try to lie to himself that maybe you'll wake up a changed person and finally see him as more than a friendly comrade. Although tonight means nothing to you, it holds an unspeakable weight to Sanji, who will forever gloat about the fact that when you needed help, it was him you turned to. It was his arms that guarded your sleep for a few hours.

Fighting off sleep until he collapses, Sanji revels in the feeling of you against his body and pretends, even if for one night, that you’re his the same way he will always be yours. Watching you sleep cuddled into him, he swears he could die happy now.

[wickjump]

i think people really sweep dream’s trauma under the rug wayyy too much to focus on nightmare’s. NOT to say his trauma is invalid but Dream definitely had it worse did you know that he wasn’t asleep when he was in stone. for like those 500 years he wasn’t asleep.

like he could sense stuff. think a coma patient who can hear and feel the outside world despite not being able to move or function. sure he probably slept the time away but imagine how traumatizing.

AND THEN he had to fight a war in which his BROTHER NOW KILLS PEOPLE and he is desperately trying to save his brother because he knows nightmare isn’t like this, his big brother is sweet and kind and he’d never do something like this, and he just doesn’t understand and he wants his family back, but all his hope repeatedly gets stomped on because his brother tries to kill him and the team he conjured up like on the daily, and dream’s awakening LITERALLY turned nightmare’s one goal into killing him because of his soul that he wants to take to destroy all positivity in the world (sorry chat the balance isn’t real and if anything nigjtmare is the one fucking it up).

NOT TO MENTION that dream is CONSISTENTLY DRAINED because there are BARELY ANY POSITIVE UNIVERSES in the WHOLE MULTIVERSE. think of more than 2 total positive aus out there. classic/swap aus don’t count because undertale is inherently a depressing game and thousands of genocide timelines exist for each and every au of those. if you had any difficulty my point is proven. NOT TO MENTION that dream is IN A LITERAL WAR. MOTHERFUCKER HAS PTSD !!!!! nightmare is the AGGRESSOR!!!!!!!!!!!

and as much as i ADORE fanon in order for me to like truce aus something i need is Dream bawling and shaking and having panic attacks and nightmares and barely being able to look his brother in the eye because he’s terrified of him and he hates it because he just wants to hug his brother but he can’t shake the intense terror that comes with staring at the same tentacles that were sharp and pointed at his chest time and time again, or closing around his neck with the intent of suffocation. and nightmare def has some apologizing to do

orrrr you know. we could,, haha idk,,, mmmm,,,,,, make the,, the ‘nightmare is freed from his corrupted and isn’t 6 purely bc i need him to heal with his brother with no angst about lost childhoods and having to raise your own twin pls and thank you’ more of a,,, a popular trope,,,, idk,,,,,,,,,,,, all im saying is that Dream deserves to cry in his brother’s arms—his brother, the way he remembers him, and they should both get to cry and latch onto each other like they’re terrified the other will disappear the moment they let go, and they just sob over what happened to them both.

[jennifer-jeong]

Guess who😊

As a reference to what you posted earlier, imagine that after the reader dies of old age, Xiao and Scaramouche encounter a reincarnation of themselves? It's your choice to make them mortal or not (I'm under your bed. If you make them mortal I will kick your feet at night.)

Take your time dear <3

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FJDKSLA;FJDSA; life has been kicking my ASS but fuck it we ball HELLO MY MUTUAL THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST, I’ve honestly been thinking hard because I want to also request some ideas because your writing is so sweet ehehehe OK PLEASE DON’T KICK MY FEET AT NIGHT THAT’S HORRIFYING - I WILL MAKE THE REINCARNATION IMMORTAL

ALSO @iota1111 these are my ideas for that Xiao and Wanderer angst! If you read only to the *** in each fic, that would be where I’d end the story if it wasn’t meant to be a happy ending! (I would suffer!!!!)

Fluff + Angst | Xiao/Wanderer x GN!Reader Reincarnation

CONTENT Angst to fluff, happy ending, reader death, mentions of death, mentions of fighting/them taking their anger out on things

XIAO

When you passed away, Xiao was absolutely heartbroken. He knew it was coming, he prepared for it, he stayed by your side through your deteriorating health in your last few months. But no matter what, he knew it would destroy him, and it did.

No one saw Xiao for weeks after but everyone noticed that Liyue was safer than ever. Xiao engrossed himself in his work. Taking out his emotions onto the monsters in Liyue. He worked himself to exhaustion every single day. Zhongli still came to check up on him but knew Xiao just needed time.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. What was he supposed to do? You were gone. HIs sunshine, his muse, his… everything.

Xiao collapsed after giving himself no rest for who knows how many nights. Laying in the grass, he stared up at the moon. Asking himself what he could’ve done differently and if he could’ve "selfishly" extended your life. If he could’ve made you immortal like him.

He listened to the bugs chirp around him, the breeze drying the tears he didn’t know were falling. For the first time in a long time, he cried. He sobbed and bit back the urge to lash out at everything in the vicinity. He was on his side, clutching his aching heart, crying into the soft grass he used to lay on with you.

He had gone through so much pain in his life: his karmic debt, the abuse from his old master, losing his found family, and all the years of deafening solitude.

But nothing would ever hurt more than losing you.

Xiao cried his heart out and knocked out from the exhaustion and pain. He slept peacefully for the first time since you passed. *** Xiao woke up the next morning with a start. Confused and disoriented not because of where he had fallen asleep, but because he sensed something insane.

He sensed you.

It was your soul, the one he swore himself to. There was no denying it. Was this a sick joke? Was some old evil spirit messing with him?

It had been months since your passing but there was no denying it. It was you.

Unfortunately, years would pass while Xiao searched for you. He was obsessed over it at first but once he could tell that your soul was safe and alive, he relaxed just a little. He still wanted to see you again, hold you, and whisper how much he loved you, but he knew you’d find each other eventually. He made himself a silent promise that he’d find you no matter what. He didn’t really have much else to do for all of eternity anyways.

Xiao confided in Zhongli through these years, the elder god revealing the possibility of reincarnation, revealing that it’s not uncommon. Souls return to the Earth in many forms but he hints to Xiao that he believes what he’s sensing is indeed you in human form.

Eventually, Xiao would be on a typical nightly patrol, sensing your soul nearby as always. But it was a bit different today. It was stronger.

As if right on cue, Xiao entered a clearing and despite it being nighttime, he saw the sun.

His beautiful sun had somehow risen again against all odds. You didn’t know his name but you knew his soul.

He recognized the sigil on your clothing, it belonged to an adeptus master he hadn’t seen in decades. The draconic horns on your head told him you were reborn in a different body, an immortal body. One that had you trained as an adepti for these past years, likely hidden away in a domain. It clicked in his head. It’s why he could always sense you, but never quite find where you were.

You turned around after feeling his approach. He wondered if you could feel his soul the way he felt yours. If you longed for him even in your new existence. He had so much to ask. But you pulled him out of his noisy thoughts.

Your voice brought him serenity he had long forgotten.

His heart pounded as you spoke.

“I missed you, my love.”

Instantly you were in each other's arms.

“I missed you too,” he says as his voice cracks.

WANDERER

He was angry, reverting back to how he was before Nahida, the traveler, and you helped him. He blamed the gods, the world, for his sorrows, for his pain. He sought to destroy it all again for somehow making his suffering worse. He had felt pain similar to this. It was all too familiar for him. The constant cycle of loss, betrayal, and agony. But this time, he was on the brink of insanity.

You, his perfect flower, had finally wilted.

He’s stuck bargaining for months, reverting between stages of grief: anger and bargaining. Never able to move on past that.

He continues on his missions for Nahida because he knows it’s what you've wanted but also because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. Any of his combat missions turned into tortures and near assassinations. He used it as a tool to cool himself off, much to the silent disapproval of Nahida. But she knew he’d never disobey your wishes, your morals. You taught him better than to kill out of emotion.

Wanderer commonly visits the forests where you two used to adventure to find some sort of peace and familiarity. He tends to avoid the Aranara despite the fact that they know about your passing and would probably be able to comfort him about it. He just didn’t think he could handle it.

Seasons pass and on one of his trips into the sunny lush forests, growing again due to the spring season, Aranara bring him your favourite flowers when they bloom again the next year. They loved you dearly too, you treated them and the forest with such gentleness that they could never forget you. They didn’t know how to approach him earlier so they used this opportunity instead.

His heart ached and his anemo vision surged with energy when he saw the flower. He finally reached his breaking point, he fell to his knees on the grass and sobbed, clutching the flower to his chest. Letting go of all the stupid anger and bargaining. Who was he kidding, he just didn’t want to accept that he’d have to keep going without you. *** The Aranara tell him not to worry though, comforting and telling him it will be okay. At first he’s confused as to what they mean but Nahida walks out into the sunlit clearing, the sun about to start setting.

She tells him she knows it hurts but that the Irminsul has a message for him and it says that he should not fret and continue to live on and explore the forest. His tear stained face raised an eyebrow but it slowly turned to determination, he knew Irminsul would not lie.

It would take years but he slowly started to feel you nearby. He’d dream of you. The forest felt like you and he could feel your energy in the flora. He confided in Nahida and their bond only grew stronger, he’d also reach out to the Aranara when he’d adventure out of the city.

Eventually, the Aranara prepared and held a ceremony, sensing the birthing of something new, a nature spirit. Nahida described it using the term “nymph.”

Wanderer was silent as he put the pieces together. He held his breath as he realized it might be you. Your reincarnation.

He always saw you as his flower, but he didn’t think you’d become a nature spirit, he was not complaining about it in the slightest though.

Nahida explained that you would exist in the physical realm but had strong ties to the dream realm, you’d be immortal like Aranara are but you’d still be able to live with him in the physical.

As you manifested and blinked open your eyes, you immediately looked at him.

His hands were shaking, unsure if he was scared, happy, both? Was it really you? Had the world finally decided to grant him happiness instead of sorrow? Was this a gift?

But as you took gentle steps towards him, he realized something important:

It didn’t matter.

You were here again, in front of him. Nothing else mattered.

You reached out to hold his face with your hands. You knew him, you knew your soul belonged to him and his to you.

He drew in closer to you, holding your face and touching your foreheads together, tears threatening to fall.

Your beautiful voice spoke to him again in what felt like an eternity. He had almost forgotten what you sounded like.

“Don’t cry my love, I’m here.”

His eyebrows scrunched as his tears fell. He wraps his arms around you tight, never wanting to let go, scared you’d leave him again.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered shakily, scared that his voice would fail if he tried to speak.

“I missed you too. I’m here to stay.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[dustofthedailylife]

A Gift For You

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham, Cyno, Heizou x (gn!) Reader

Summary: They plan to give you something for White Day (Info: White Day is the counterpart to Valentine's Day where you usually get the person who got you something, something in return.)

Tags: Fluff, best friends to lovers, pining, mild cursing, very slight angst for Heizou and Cyno at first but also not really, they have good intentions haha!

A/N: This is my White Day gift for @feeblescholarmyass! I hope you like it :3

ALHAITHAM

Two knocks on the door of your office snapped you out of your work-induced haze. 

You’ve been working non-stop on this project for the Akademiya for months now and have only been allowing yourself breaks to eat or sleep. Well, to be fair, sleep was negligible too, seeing as you only got around three hours of it per night for a couple of weeks now. 

What didn’t help was that you just couldn’t get a hold of a super rare edition of a book that was practically essential for this paper. However, the physical copy was lost to the void of the library as it was never returned. And since the Akasha terminal no longer worked you also couldn’t fall back on that.

“Come in.” you answer, rubbing your eyes quickly in a futile attempt to make yourself look less tired. But deep down you knew there was nothing that could hide the deep purple eye bags you’d been carrying around like a designer accessory the past couple of weeks.

You continued to read through one of the many books on your desk as the door was opened quietly and you heard long strides approach your desk.

“Are you seriously still working on this?” a familiar voice asked reprimandingly.

You looked up into the face of Alhaitham who looked down at you in a less than amused and almost accusatory way. You genuinely didn’t have time for this now, as much as you would rather spend every free minute you had with him instead.

“Well yes, I am. Things have been going slower than I had planned and the deadline is breathing down my neck.” you sighed burying your head into the book you had been skimming through prior. “What did you want?”

“You are going to take a break.” Alhaitham remarks. This wasn’t a plea, he was leaving no room for protest. He snatched the book out of your hand and placed it on a table out of your reach.

“Hey! Alhaitham! You can’t do that. I need to finish this.”

“Yes, I can. And I will.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “When was the last time you ate?”

Well, damn. There was nothing you could hide from him, was there? He always saw right through you. Always had. One of the perks of being friends with a genius, you thought to yourself. And your silence following his question seemed to confirm his suspicions once again.

“Come on. Let’s go to the Tavern, I’ll treat you to lunch.”

You knew there was no point in resisting so you tagged along and unsurprisingly as always, he was right. Getting out of your cramped office and breathing in some fresh air was balm for your soul.

You sat down outside of the Tavern, both ordering a meal and talking about some recent research you both were interested in. Well, it was mostly just you ranting about your project and the sheer stress the lack of one certain book was causing you, but he listened to everything attentively. 

You once again came to realize what an incredibly calming effect talking to him had on you. Despite how fast your heart started drumming inside of your chest every single time without fail. You suspected that he likely would never be interested in you beyond the friendly relationship you had with him and you didn’t mean to destroy what you both had by laying your feelings for him bare. So you simply kept them locked within your heart and simply basked in his presence whenever you could.

“Oh, since we’re on the topic. I bought something the other day. This is for you.” Alhaitham suddenly pulled a book out of his bag and slid it across the table. You only had to glance at the cover briefly before you realized what it was and your eyes became as wide as saucers.

“Th-this is… the super rare copy of Ancient Nomad Language and Symbolism! How did you–?”

You were awestruck. You had no idea how he managed to get his hands on a copy. It was as if this book had vanished from the face of the earth. Aside from the fact that you could no longer buy it either or just for an extremely inflated price. How in the world did he get his hands on this?

“Let’s just say, I have my methods.” he replied with a hint of a smug smile painted across his lips.

“How much did you pay for this? I promise I’m going to pay it back–”

“No need.” he shook his head to deny your offer. “Consider it a gift.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much! You have no idea how happy this makes me.” you blurt out, almost brought to tears by this act of kindness. With this, your project was saved, and after so long you could finally see a light at the end of the tunnel.

“Well, in fact, I do. Considering that you didn’t shut up about this book for the better half of a month now and everyone you spoke to knew how much you wanted it.” he stated factually.

“Hey! No need to get all snarky with me now, when I just want to express my gratitude!” you chuckle and playfully roll your eyes, prompting him to smile smugly in a barely noticeable way once more.

“It was my pleasure. Besides, today is White Day, so it was only logical to get you something.” he remarks and he continued to drink his coffee entirely unbothered as if he didn’t just insinuate the most unbelievable thing you had ever heard. He surely misunderstood something here, right?

“Uhh–” you pause. “You know what this day is for right?”

“Naturally.”

You felt like your heart was about to jump right out of your chest any second. What did he mean naturally?! Was what you deemed impossible actually true and…

“Do you… like me?” you whisper, too scared and unable to speak any louder because it felt like all air had been knocked out of your lungs.

“Looks like you’ve finally caught on as well. I thought you’d never realize.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think I repeatedly asked you out for lunch or dinner? Or why do you think I keep returning your books for you if you’re very capable of doing so yourself? Amongst other things.” he enumerated.

“Well yes, but that’s what friends do.” you retorted confusedly.

“Then let me spell it out for you.”

He put his cup down on the table and leaned forward. He stared deeply into your eyes before ushering three words you’ve always, deep down, longed to hear from his lips.

“I love you.”

CYNO

Three Matra ringing on your door at 10 in the morning was not what you had expected to see today, but here you were nonetheless. They had arrived just as you were about to head to the Akademiya for work but effectually canceled all plans you had made.

“Good morning?” you questioningly asked, raising an eyebrow at them. “Can I help you?”

“We would like to ask you to accompany us back to the Akademiya.”, they plainly stated, signaling you to follow them.

You quickly grabbed your keys and tracked behind them with unease pooling at the pit of your stomach and a violently beating heart. 

What could the Matra possibly want from you? Did you conduct some illegal research? Did someone turn you in for plagiarism to save their own skin? Or did it have something to do with academic funds? As far as you were aware, the answers to all of these questions were no.

You didn't commit any serious academic offense to your knowledge and never planned to do so in the first place. But being called in by the Matra always had something to do with that, so naturally, you had a very bad feeling about this and couldn’t help but desperately try to find the answer to it in your head before you’d arrive.

You knew your best and long-time friend Cyno, was the General Mahamatra but even he wouldn’t show mercy if you seriously screwed something up. You knew he didn’t take academic offenses lightly - it didn’t matter who it was who committed them. He dealt out punishment equally.

The way to the office seemed like it was taking forever and many people along the way to the Akademiya threw you pitiful glances and were whispering as you were escorted by the Matra.

Once you arrived at your destination you were led into the General Mahamatra’s office. The Matra who had escorted you were bowing their head down once before they left you and Cyno, who was standing behind his desk, alone.

“There you are!” he stated, sounding surprisingly cheerful. Well, at least compared to usual anyway. He certainly didn’t seem sinister or as if he was out for your head.

He walked around his desk and came to a halt just in front of you. You slightly twitched as he put one hand on your shoulder and looked right into your eyes. This entire situation was odd, to say the least.

What didn’t help was that the warmth that radiated off his hand on your shoulder was entirely distracting to you right now and made the blood rush to your cheeks and your heart skitter in your chest.

“U-uhhh…” you stammered, unsure what to say or do.

“Do you still remember the special animated Genius Invokation card of Tighnari you got me last month?”

What? Was something wrong with it?

“Uhm… yes, of course, I do.” you reply, uncertain as to where this was leading.

He nodded as his lips curved into a small smile. “Follow me.”

You trailed behind him out of the Akademiya and along the streets towards the outskirts of Sumeru city. You remained silent the entire way, intimidated and unsure about his intentions. You couldn’t help but wonder where he was taking you and whether he was intending to exercise his judgment where no one was able to bear witness to it.

He came to a halt next to a small, run-down house at the border of the city and leaned against the fence there, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing below himself. You cautiously came to a halt as well, making sure you maintained some distance from him.

“So… w-what did I do?” you carefully inquired.

“Well,” Cyno cleared his throat as if he was struggling to find the right words. He stepped a little closer to you once again, taking your slightly trembling hands in his. “You stole something.”

“What? I did n–”

“You stole my heart.” he interrupted both your words and ability to form clear thoughts.

You parted your lips with the intention to say something but every word seemed to have died in your throat. You knew he was one to often speak cryptically so you were uncertain about the true meaning behind his words.

“What?”

He took a deep breath as if he was preparing to say something impacting before pointing toward the fence he had been leaning on with a dead-serious face.

“I fence-y you!”

At this point, you couldn’t help but chuckle. The hilarity of this entire situation was unbelievable. Not only did he have you worried sick he also chose to confess to you after years of pining with some stupid pun.

“Did you seriously lead me here just because there is a fence here?”

“Curses. I feared you would not understand… see fence-y sounds like fancy which means I–”

You quickly pulled him in by his neck and pressed your lips softly against his, successfully stopping him from explaining his joke. The feeling of his lips on yours was something you had dreamed of for so long. When he slung his arms around your waist the endorphins rushing through your bloodstream made your head swim and you felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest. You wondered if he felt the same.

“That was supposed to be my gift to you,” he remarked with a smile, leaning his forehead against yours. “but you beat me to it.”

You playfully punched his chest with a chuckle. “Idiot. You have no idea how much you had me scared to death with this entire scheme of yours. I fence-y you, too”

“Allow me to make it up to you again. Do you like raisins?”

You questioningly raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was up to this time.

“No? How about a date, then?”

Someone seriously needed to remind you again why you fell for this guy.

HEIZOU

You were walking through the streets of Hanamizaka to run some errands when you bumped into your long-time friend aka. the best detective in town. Or maybe even in the entirety of Inazuma.

“Would you look who it is!” you perceived the familiar voice coming from your right.

You turned your head only to spot the familiar tuft of auburn locks and the pair of mischievous green eyes that always made their owner look like he was up to no good.

“Heizou!” you cheered, hugging him tightly.

“It’s a good thing I run into you actually. I’m onto something and you’re just the person who could help me out.” he remarked.

“Oh, is that so?” you asked stemming your hands on your hips proudly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Indeed.”

“So, what do you need from me, Mr. Detective?” you tease.

“Alright. So, as you may or may not know it’s White Day. I’m looking for a present for someone since I’m going on a date, and I want to get something for them.” he explained. 

You had to try your hardest to not drop your smile. It almost faltered just now, but you couldn’t let your disappointment show. He didn’t know you had feelings for him, so to him, you were still nothing more than his best friend. Obviously, he would come to you with something like this. It’s also on you for not telling him about your feelings for him, too.

As much as your heart ached while thinking about it, you simply had to try to be a supportive friend in this situation. Even if it would most likely prove to be a challenge. Both for your heart and also to hide your dislike about this from him, since he was generally very perceptive. It was in the job description after all and he was one of the best in his field.

“So what do you say?” he interrupted your train of thought. “Will you help me?”

“Sure!” you agree, faking a smile. 

You followed him through the streets of Inazuma City walking past several restaurants and storefronts continually catching yourself getting lost in your own thoughts while he was talking. 

Your mind was way too occupied with reproaching yourself for not opening up about your feelings. Would you still be able to look him in the eyes when you soon saw him with someone else by his side? Or would you be strong enough to still be as close to him as you are now, despite your aching heart? These were questions the future you would have to eventually find answers to, but for now, you decided you should focus on helping him.

“Which restaurant would be a good option for a dinner date?” he pondered tapping his chin with his index finger.

“Well, I do like Uyuu Restaurant just across the bridge from here. But then again, it tends to be rather crowded on holidays. So maybe Kiminami Restaurant instead? And quite honestly, the food is also better there in my opinion.” you advised.

“I see. Great!” Heizou cheered writing some things down in his notebook.

“So…” he began again after he was done taking notes. “Now for the present. I have no clue what to get them, yet.”

“Well, what a lousy detective you are if you can’t even sneakily ask them about what they would want.” you teased.

He raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of his chest, acting playfully offended at your remark.

“Hey now! No need to get personal! Besides, that would only be the last resort! Anyway, hypothetically speaking. Imagine I’d get you something for White Day. What present would you want?”

For Archon’s sake, did he really have to have you imagine that? Getting a present from him on White Day would be a dream come true so he could practically get you anything and you would be head over heels for him all over again. But naturally, you couldn’t just outright say that.

“I don’t think this should be about what I would want. You should consider what they could want instead.”

“Hmm. I see your point. I could just ask them directly, I suppose?” he proposed tapping his chin as if deep in thought.

“No numbnuts! That’s not something you just ask them. It’s supposed to be a surprise, you know?”

“But then it may be even more important if you could give me an idea knowing what you would want. To gather some… inspiration, basically. I have to consider all possibilities after all.” he lightly bumped his finger on your forehead and smirked slyly. “So what would you want… jewelry? books? something to decorate your home with perhaps? Or maybe–”

“I fear I may not be of much help. I genuinely wouldn’t know what I would want.” you quickly interrupted.

Aside from wishing to be the object of affection of the man in front of you. But it was probably better if you buried that hope alongside your feelings for him once and for all.

What you were dying to say to him for a long time, had died in your throat the moment he told you he was going on a date. And as much as you honestly wanted to help him with this, you couldn’t recommend him something in good faith when it made your heart painfully throb the way it did right now.

“Hmmm.” he pondered looking at the ground with crossed arms. “That’s a shame, I’d immediately know what I’d want.”

“Oh? And what would that be, Detective?” you replied cheekily, quickly trying to distract yourself from the aching feeling in your chest.

“You.”

“What?” you falter.

“Do you happen to be free later?”

“Y-you–?”, you stammered.

“I set you up? Hmm, I suppose you could say I did. Sorry about that, but I had to find something out first.” he hummed, leaning in a little closer with a smug smile before whispering in your ear. “And I’m pretty sure I connected all the dots by now, did I not, sweetheart?”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[hanafubukki]

Happy Birthday Nessy 💚🌺💝 (@masquerade-of-misery)

To the people of Briar Valley, you were an anomaly. A mere human, and yet you had enthralled two of their strongest on the land.

Their Future King and the well known Right General of Briar Valley.

There were whispers of you using magic to lure them into your trap, but that was soon cast aside because how could a mere human beat one of their own?

To Malleus and Lilia such rumors were naught but idle chatter that would soon die down, but even so they made sure it would never reach your ears.

They wished for you to be happy and any who sought to destroy that smile? Would meet their end, such is the way of the fae court, especially when one’s mate was insulted.

During your time at NRC, all fae from all dorms knew who you are. To say you were treated with the highest respect would be putting it mildly, you had to step in and ask for them to treat you the same as fellow classmates. You reasoned that you were a human and a normal student at the end of the day, and despite being their lover, you just wanted to be treated the same.

Your wish was heeded, granted it took some time for the situation to become normal once again. It was difficult with Sebek initially, but even he did not stand a chance against you.

Majority of the of the people of Briar Valley accepted the idea of you, that is not to say there weren’t those who protested. All of whom, were quieted as swiftly as a blade.

But the thought was always there, in the recess of many of the fae’s minds. Who were you? They wondered.

You who spent your time at the side of the fearsome King and the Right General of Briar Valley.

You who did not hold yourself back, but freely gave. And them, who took without hesitation.

It was no secret how much they adored you. The hand at your waist. The kiss on your cheek. The earrings made of the finest emerald gems. The ring with the deepest crimson garnet.

Theirs.

Maybe you were more than what you seemed. More stronger than anyone gave you enough credit for.

For the looks you receive from them are yours only.

No other received these looks.

Any who dared to look your way would fear for their lives.

Truly, you are loved by them.

In terms of the fae, it would mean you would be loved by them for all eternally.

Your soul forever entwined with theirs and theirs with yours.

The fae of Briar Valley had no reason to not accept you.

To accept such fierce devotion without hesitation called for great respect and fealty.

For no other could do what you have done.

Bring happiness and warmth to their Future King and the Right General of Briar Valley.

You, the Future Queen of Briar Valley.

May the Night Bless You.

Wished all the night fae across the lands.

The one loved the most in Twisted Wonderland.

Happy Birthday to one of my most cherished friends 💞🌺🩵💚

I hope you loved this Nessy and have a wonderful birthday ☺️💚🌷🌹

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Could you write something about a villain who is madly in love with Hero but can’t express their feelings cause of the whole secret identity thing and they’re so in love with hero that they know everything about them and pull a bunch of strings and commit several crimes so that they can do on a date with hero?

"What was that?" the hero asked. They sat on their office chair with a leg crossed, almost as if they were on a throne and watching the villain's every move. It was intoxicating to say the least. Seeing the hero like this, like the mighty protector of the city that they were let the villain's heart jump up and down excitedly.

"I'm sorry," the villain repeated and they could feel the ends of their fingertips tingle.

"Try that again, darling." The hero's index finger ran along the villain's jawline until it stopped right under their chin. "What are you apologising for?"

They used more pressure, used more force but the villain would have raised their head no matter what. They would have punished themselves if necessary. They knew the hero was a kind person. And that they had a very sweet soul. There was no reason to fight them - the villain would lose every time, even if it meant they were doing it on purpose.

It wasn't just about the hero's power. That was mostly a sexual driven factor. What the hero could do to them (in bed, preferably) would be the hero's decision.

For the villain, the very being of the hero fascinated them. How, despite a horrible childhood, they had managed to continue to live a life full of purpose. The hero was someone who had healed gracefully, not like the villain. The hero was someone who was inspiring, someone who was changing lives so nonchalantly.

"I'm sorry I committed those crimes just to see you," the villain said. But they couldn't really think. They stared up at these perfect watercoloured eyes they would think of before going to sleep sometimes.

Most of the time, they only saw each other when they were working. Not that the villain would ever really confess - they were too insecure for that - but sometimes, they really hoped the hero would somehow feel the same things. Because, God, the villain was confused. They couldn't tell if this was affection or not. If this was flirting or if the hero was using them for other purposes.

It was heartbreaking to think about but the villain would rather stay with them while they used them than not seeing them at all.

"You can be so sweet," the hero said. They let their thumb go over the villain's bottom lip slowly and much to the villain's embarrassment, they could feel their neck start to glow. "But you should be sorry for committing crimes in the first place, not because you could get my attention that way."

"I'm sorry," the villain whispered. "I wasn't...I wasn't really thinking."

"Don't worry about it," the hero said. They let go of the villain (which bothered the villain more than it should have) and leaned against their backrest casually. "I do have another question, though."

"Yes?"

"Did you know that in our evaluation and in our reports you're classified as the most dangerous villain in the city? You're said to be the most powerful, in fact."

"...oh." The villain had suspected something like that. They knew they could defeat most villains and heroes alike. They had never had any big troubles in combat and they were quite creative when it came to using their powers. It made sense but maybe the hero was baiting them into fake self-confidence.

Was this...some heartless trick? Some fake buttering up?

"Now, here is my real question," the hero said. They stood up and the villain nearly expected the hero to circle them and make fun of the villain. To humiliate them, to use this, if they truly found out about it. Using this longing the villain felt to completely destroy the villain. But instead, the hero stood in front of them. "Why on earth is the most powerful villain in the city kneeling in my office?"

Quickly, the villain stood up - they were a bit taller so they looked down at the hero - and cleared their throat. The hero smiled at them softly.

"Well, you asked me to."

"And you didn't hesitate." This was a game. Now, the hero wanted them to confess. The villain could feel the blush on their cheeks spread until it reached their ears.

The villain swallowed. They had never done this before. They had never even thought it would be possible for someone to love them back. It was already a bit twisted - doing all of this just to look at the hero once. And after all, this could still be a trick to humiliate them. Although the villain wouldn't be mad at the hero if this was the case, they didn't like the idea of other heroes seeing them like this.

Or even hearing about this.

They could forgive the hero if they told anyone. But they would be furious with others.

"Are you asking me to...?" tell you the truth? To confess?

"Yes, yes I am."

"I'm not ready for that, I think," the villain said and they found themselves a lot more pathetic than mere minutes ago when they'd been on their knees.

"Okay," the hero said. Their smile was still so sweet. They set their hands on the villain's shoulders and pushed themselves up to their tiptoes.

Then, they kissed the villain's cheek.

"I'll wait for you," they said. "But, darling, please don't do anything stupid again."

The villain stared at them, nodding as if they were a dog receiving new commands.

[watercurtaincave]

This is my first time request!! Can you do Nezha dating headcanon please??

𖤓 !! — Invisible Red String Theory. Ne zha / reader

𖤓 !! — Ne Zha can sometimes be a difficult guy to get along with; for all he is, a protector and a guardian and a friend, and all he can be, it seems that relationships tend to be the hardest for him to upkeep. It's just tends to be his nature to follow orders from the Jade emperor, his nature to take any job he's assign too seriously, his nature to be stand off-ish and cold.

𖤓 !! — It's how he was raised to be, from when he was born as a mortal to when he was reborn from the roots of a lotus flower and became the 'Third Lotus Prince'. Ne Zha hadn't exactly known a kind life, and despite everything he's been through, his first true 'friends' happened to be a ragtag group of Wukong, his successor, and everyone else who fought against the Azure lion. Even then he didn't really know how to interact with them, and furthermore making friends on the brink of the world being destroyed (twice) isn't the greatest situation. It often leads to choice words being said and sarcastic and demeaning undertones in the heat of stress.

𖤓 !! — So Ne Zha was fully ready to be left alone, once again, after the whole drama died down. Yet, when he was invited back to Pigsy's after he didn't show up to the beach day, he was kind of shocked. He half believed it was some sort of joke on him, a 'prank', another teasing gesture from Wukong. But he decided to go anyways, seeing as it would be rude not to show up when it was requested of him.

𖤓 !! — To say that people actually wanted his company was shocking would be an understatement. He was oddly moved by the voiced shouting to greet him, the chaotic nature of the whole gathering, and having people to finally spend his days with. It oddly felt like some sort of clean start. He could just be Ne Zha. Not the Third Lotus Prince, not the Demon Child, not a murderer or a kidnapper, just... Ne Zha.

𖤓 !! — "Hey, what's your name?" Ne Zha would perk up upon hearing the question, not recognizing the voice from anyone he knew. His eyebrows narrowed a little, mostly upon instinct, when he saw a stranger in a party that was meant to be only for close friends. So, either you, a complete stranger to Ne Zha, had crashed the party or you were a friend one someone's. But who would that someone be? The most logical answer would be Mei or MK, they seem like they would have a bunch of friends, and you did seem right around their age. Yet, that seemed too easy of an answer and you could be friends with a complete wild card like Tang or Wukong. The answer kind of mattered, it would give Ne Zha a basis of how you would be like. "Ne Zha." But he would answer anyways despite the uncertainty.

𖤓 !! — Well, he wouldn't know that answer really wouldn't matter much in the long run.

𖤓 !! — Oddly enough, since that day, Ne Zha swears he's seen you more times than he should; Almost like you've always been a background character in his life that only just got brought to light. It was both odd and endearing in an off-put way. As such, he never realized how much you really did hang out with MK, Mei, and the others. Whenever he would come down to help out with small tasks, trying to keep himself busy, he would notice your presence almost instantly (where, beforehand, he was sure he completely ignored it). It was an oddly magnetic presence, of siren-like-quality that lured him in with a wonderful melody. Your soul was a wonderful melody, he could feel it anytime he passed. Yet he could never let himself get distracted by such meaningless things, not when he has bigger things to do.

𖤓 !! — Not when he was sure that relationships between mortals and immortals are forbidden; The Jade Emperor never liked it when immortals mingled with the mortals anyways, hence why he tried to strike down Sun Wukong so many times and banished Gauyin when she went to live amongst them. So he could not have any relationships with mortals either. Not in the way he's been dreaming about, so he must distance himself from your all too alluring personality and smile, your kind ways and how you always seem ready to lend a hand. Siren-like, that's what Ne Zha forced himself to think of you as. You were nothing but a Siren that was created to tempt his will and strength and we was not to loose-

𖤓 !! — "You know, you shouldn't let yourself be chained to old expectations anymore, Ne Zha." Your voice, as smooth as liquid gold and as sweet as cotton candy, flushed into his ears one night during a bomb fire with everyone. He had parted himself from the group to take a breather, seeing as Sun Wukong was simply trying to annoy Macaque and everyone was having their fits of laughter about it. He never expected you to notice he had left, nevertheless for you to follow him like you did. Siren, the thought rang in his head, Siren, siren, siren! But his words would fall short as you stood next to him and hummed a small tune, watching the orange-pink sunset with such a peaceful way. "What do you mean?" Ne Zha would respond to your statement, trying to seem a little off put by it. Maybe, secretly, he was and he was just denying it to himself. He wasn't tied down by chains, he was his own person. "It's why you fail to make relationships with everyone the way that you want to." You would continue, tracing a circle along the rim of your cup. That odd detail caught Ne Zha's attention, "You're afraid that you're going to get attached, that someone will tell the Jade Emperor about your affairs, that you will be stricken down like the rest. But you know you don't have to worry about such things, right?"

𖤓 !! — Who are you? Ne Zha would stare at you with the most bewildered look, mouth slight agape, as he wondered if he was simply too easy to read or if you were some sort of witch. Surely he couldn't be easy to read, and Wukong being able to read him at times didn't count because Wukong was just odd by himself. He's also known Wukong for many years, while he hasn't spoken to you for even .1% of the time he's known Wukong. Yet you were able to read his thoughts like he was some sort of open book. "Are you a witch?" His question came out before he could think upon it; Though, he hoped you didn't notice the way he slightly jerked back and bit his tongue when his mind caught up to his words. He would glance away from you and from the sunset, yet he could hear your finger constantly tracing that circle rimmed cup of yours.

𖤓 !! — He expected you to be offended, to hold some sort of grudge due to his words, yet you only would stifle a bit of laughter before giggling at his words. That caught him off guard, and he didn't realize how your laughter cleared the awkward air around you both, as he glanced up to meet your eyes. "No, Ne Zha, I just.. I've heard about you from MK and Wukong." You would explain, "And I then began to notice all the small things you do to keep a barrier between everyone and yourself. I asked Tang and Wukong about it, and they, well, gave me some sad answers. So I thought, oh I don't know, I could help you?" Ne Zha wasn't sure how to respond to your sentiment, though he could tell you were true about your word. It was by the way you had looked up at him, the way your eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the corner, and your tone of voice. Ne Zha has met many people and you, by far, are one of the most unique.

𖤓 !! — He, also, couldn't help but feel touched at your countless efforts to try and understand him despite all he's done to keep you, and everyone else, at arms length. What kind of person would do that just so they could reach out to someone like Ne Zha?

𖤓 !! — He didn't fully let his guard or his walls down with you that night, but he surely let you a little closer to his heart. A little step closer to being able to fully understand who Ne Zha was as a person. A tiny step closer to being able to call yourself his. And, most importantly, the itty bittiest step forward in helping Ne Zha realize he can make friends now. That he doesn't have to be anyone that he doesn't want to be, that he can choose for himself; That he can be himself. And out of everything you have achieved with the smallest step of reaching out, that was the greatest one of all.

𖤓 !! — Being lovers with Ne Zha would be hard, and it'll take a lot of time, but it's something that's so worth it in the end. For once you get close enough to Ne Zha, though he wouldn't realize it, you would become one of his top priorities. You can call him, even pray to him, at any time on any day and he'll answer, and he'll be there, quicker than he had chased Wukong down once he stole the map. He's there for you through the thick and the thin, and in turn you're there for him equally as much.

𖤓 !! — Being lovers with Ne Zha is like being able to see the moments where he falters his 'big guy' persona and you get to see the true Ne Zha. Him and his little curiosities. How he'll stop and stare at a butterfly on a tree you had missed during your walk. How he cares so much about his friends, deep down, that he constantly checks Mei's 'instagram' through your phone to make sure they're okay. How he will sit in front of the stove to ponder how yeast can make bread rise. How he's so scared of losing you that he'll cuddle you against his chest at night, not aware on how tightly his arms (wrapped around your waist and chest) are to make sure you're still there. To see all his childish curiosities he couldn't think when he was a kid due to his 'destiny'; To see the way his face lights up upon trying new food and experiences; To see, well, Ne Zha.

𖤓 !! — Being lovers with Ne Zha is to truly be loved both inside and out, and loving him back just the same. It's timeless and effortless and neither of you would have it any other way.

𖤓 !! — all writing in this page belongs to @watercurtaincaves, please do not repost on other sites, plagiarize, or steal. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[vgilantee]

fuck it!!! right from the dm’s, more of my planning!!

werebeast price - hunts his mate but it’s all a game to him. he’s flirting and courting her the way werebeast instincts and culture tell him. Prey is an apothecarist’s apprentice and exploring the woods when the hunt begins (i cannot express how down bad price is for prey)

demon gaz - met her centuries ago in a different language, in a country renamed then destroyed. now he sees Soul supervising a class. it’s small, only a handful of the town’s families can spare their children to learn to read and write, but she doesn’t mind at all.

when she sees him she recognises him. thinking it’s from a dream. but your brain can’t come up with new faces, only recycle ones it knows. so maybe she does know him? or did know him? so when he introduces himself and takes her hand, pressing her knuckles to his lips, she isn’t surprised that she feels the familiarity, the comfort. her soul knows him, after all (reincarnationnnnnnn!!!!!)

merfolk johnny - saves his mate when her small fishing boat capsizes in a sudden, horrific storm. he has never cared for humans much before but he can’t let one as beautiful as you - one who sang to herself while drawing in nets despite how the melody may scare away the catch - drown before learning your song

i have nothing for minotaur simon’s mate yet, and i haven’t got a name for his or johnny’s (taking a page from @ghouljams and naming them) but! i have quite a bit of worldbuilding done if y’all are curious

(souls are real in this au, and it’s set vaguely 18th century. but i’m playing in the sandpit with my toys so it’s very loosely based in a real time but i get to pick and choose my favourite bits)

(also i am so nervous about tagging ghoul in this they’re so so cool 🫣🫣)

[rubyclover]

I said I can’t write but if felt nice getting that other idea out of my head. So I wrote this and will post. Technically I started trying to write this like a month ago… Please ignore the constant switching between past and present tense. It’s something I never seem to notice until someone else points out where it is.

Prompt: Professionals hate him but he was right! [Adam] Heaven and Hell come to the realization that The First Man played a larger part in the three realms’ political/social ecosystem than they thought. His absence leaves a vacuum that Lute is unable to fill but she may not need to because Hell is solving the problem themselves… The Morningstar Family can’t run from this.

No ABetaO we expire like Adam~

Imagine that Adam dies, the hotel has never looked better, the residents have healed up and Charlie gets another TV appearance. Lucifer is even more depressed than before but hides it. Adam is gone She’s going to reveal Sir Pentious’ redemption with evidence that is NOT childishly scribbled on key cards. Instead of the interview taking place in the 666News studio it’s held outside the hotel. She will take questions, live, right after the interview. Katie Killjoy wants to give the public a chance to cause chaos for ratings, so she puts Charlie in a vulnerable position.

Things go great… for the first 20 minutes. The interview isn’t even half way done when someone from the crowd interjects after Charlie says ‘The Sinners have a better life now that the Exterminations are permanently canceled.’

That person’s voice is calm but still pissed as Hell. They fire back that no, Sinners don’t have an easier life now that the Exterminations are over. It’s worse! Charlie and the crowd perk up.

The voice moves to the front. They’re short with plain street clothes, hood up. It’s obvious they’re poor and at the bottom of Hell’s pecking order. A couple of Imps are with them equally disheveled and tired looking. The man goes on to point out some rather hard truths.

Thanks to the last Extermination, angelic steel has become a hot commodity. While uncommon right now, there’s a pipeline to obtain an angelic weapon. All you need is enough money. Carmilla Carmine doesn’t care about how her product is used after purchase.

‘Permanent Murder’ is a new trend on HellTube netting ridiculous profits. The main targets are vulnerable Sinners, usually the scared and alone new arrivals, Imps and Hellhounds. All killed by beautifully glowing angelic weapons.

Overlords are more formidable with these weapons so the chance of contractees escaping, like Angeldust, has become damn near impossible even if they destroyed their contract. Some desperate souls were happy with their messed up immortality. It gave them some hope, ‘at least I have a chance to turn things around eventually,’ but that pathetic security is gone.

The Exterminations kept said Overlords in check to a degree. They were more inclined to take care of their underlings because that guaranteed their safety. Now? Just get an angelic gun for all your troubles. Valentino is having a fucking field day.

The ‘permadeath’ toll for one year will be ten times the amount of one Extermination Day considering how much Hell’s citizens like to kill Sinners…

Not to mention, whole industries in Hell, from top to bottom, are starting to crash. Their purpose or sales revolved around the Exterminations. Some workers cannot afford to lose their job and have to sell their soul against their will.

Etcetcetc

As the man speaks Charlie is surprised to see heads nodding in agreement! Someone comments that they hadn’t seen their Sinner friend in a few days and tries not to panic while another face falls in the crowd and wrings their hands together. An Imp with curved horns standing beside a young Hellhound sweats profusely and starts to leave. Tension moves through the public. Not just the ones in front of the stage but also those watching TV.

Despite her best efforts Charlie cannot lift the crowd’s mood. She realizes prematurely revealing Sir Pentious’ redemption is the only way to salvage this growing disaster. Unfortunately the man’s timing is perfect because the second she opens her mouth he turns his anger on the Morningstars.

He calls out how much her family misrepresents themselves as rulers. They don’t do anything for Hell anymore. They spend most of their time fucking around while the Sinners suffer. The other Sins manage their rings and hellborn, not Lucifer or Lilith. All three of the Morningstars can’t truly understand human suffering yet they profess to know how to best handle it. With no idea what it means to be human yet they pass judgement on them.

The crowd becomes agitated and the Imps beside the man move closer to him. They aren’t trying to draw safety from the Sinner but are taking defensive positions. Charlie realizes this isn’t someone speaking up in the heat of the moment. This is a planned speech. He’s highjacking her broadcast!

She sees the Sinner clench his fists and feels herself start to sweat. Why was he saying any of that? Yes, life will be a bit hard at first but now everyone can come together and rebuild! There are so many possibilities available to The Pride Ring. It would improve lives. Change was always good they just had to be careful. Yet the stranger goes on.

He claims that Lucifer is a washed up angel that can’t comprehend mortality because of his maladaptive dreaming and pride, Lilith is apathetic to Sinners and wishes to aggravate Heaven no matter how much Hell will suffer and Charlie is so sheltered that she thinks PTSD can be solved by clapping and saying positive affirmations.

Little is known about the royal family but the stranger’s comments sway the crowd. The hotel’s original commercials got the time of day because of Charlie’s status, not because the facility had managed to accomplish anything. Lucifer barely appears at all even when large fights break out leveling half of Pentagram City. And Lilith? Missing for 7 years after riling up all of Hell multiple times, causing Heaven to start the Exterminations.

The stranger calls the hotel a disgusting joke. Calls out how Charlie is trying to ‘pass the buck’ over to Heaven. The Pride Ring’s actual rulers are Overlords and they make sure Sinners suffer and continue to act depraved whether they like it or not. Her family has the power to take control and lessen the city’s suffering but they don’t. Instead they play with their little pet project .

Why are they focusing on shipping problems elsewhere? There’s a better way to solve the pain and suffering at the source than waiting! Fix Pentagram City! Show Heaven that the current number of Sinners isn’t a threat!

‘For all the crying and sniveling you do Princess Charlotte, you sure don’t actually help where it counts! I’m sure you care about Sinners but only on the same level as someone cares about cute public park ducks.’

Vaggie, who had been standing to the side of the stage leaps forward, places herself in between the stranger and her girlfriend. Everyone’s raised emotions have put her on edge. She ignores the harsh gasps when her angelic spear slides free and into her hands. ‘Back up! Now!’

Charlie’s heart sank at the escalation. She understood her girlfriend was still tense from the extermination but all their hard work was starting to fray around the edges! She just hoped her dad didn’t-

The King of Hell himself appears through a portal shortly after gathering himself together. The opening looked angrier in color, matching his mood. Sickly green lines run throughout the glow, radiating blistering heat. Parts of the stage began to melt and the forgotten camera crew swivel to their ruler. Lucifer’s face is set in stone but his bright flickering eyes give him away.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ He snarls, apple topped cane slamming onto the stage causing some of it to splatter. ‘How dare you speak to my daughter that way.’ Lucifer’s face morphs into a more demonic grimace. Katie Killjoy scrambles from her chair and off the stage at the same time as Charlie vaulting up to place a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder whispering ‘dad no!’ She doesn’t want the hotel’s improved reputation to evaporate. A confrontation with someone on live TV would scare people away!

Lucifer growls in the back of his throat, looking at where he assumes the bastard’s eyes are under his hood. Smoke and embers sizzle out from the corner of his mouth and inbetween teeth. He hated acting this way but he had an image to uphold. ‘Answer your King you wretch. Don’t confuse my inaction with benevolence. You’re testing my patience!’

After a beat or two of staring each other down the stranger has the gall to ‘tsk’ off to the side as if spitting. ‘As you with your majesty. It’s all fine by me.’ A small, scared hand reaches up and whips off the dirty hood exposing his face to all of Hell.

People instantly whip out their phones. His face is shockingly similar to Lucifer’s, in fact a basic carbon copy sans a few attributes.

Cameras catch alabaster skin and soft, blond, curly hair, short, wiry build, vivid green eyes, pale coral cheek markings, pointed ears and four demon wings the same color as his skin.

Leaf green eyes stair directly into Charlie’s while electing to ignore both fallen angels. He stands ramrod straight. Cutting a regal silhouette despite the filth on his body and clothes.

‘My name is Cain Adamson, The Wandering Star.’ He bows in a fashion Charlie hadn’t seen in all her galas. ‘Lucifer Morningstar’s first born and bastard son. It’s nice to finally meet you sister mine… I’ll be taking your family’s crown for my father.’

[So in this AU Cain rescued Adam’s body and resuscitated it. They had a familial bond even when Cain got banished for murdering Able and found out his bio dad was Lucifer. Eve didn’t pay much attention to her first born out of guilt so Adam stepped up. No one shamed her. Adam never felt like Cain was separate from his other kids even though he looked nothing like him. Now Cain wants to provide for his father who’s trapped in hell and in really bad condition by booting the Morningstars out of power in the Pride Ring.] Dunno about pairing but Adamsapple or Guitarhero would be a safe bet. Either way Lucifer will suffer lol

[wtf do I call this? Family Feud AU? Chessboard AU? Secret Brother AU? Idk h e l p ]

[vixen-tech]

Anonymous asked:

Too shy to ask off anon...UH im just here for edgar hes my f/o but i will also feed everyone else I think LOL little ai guys x reader who is also an ai?? im thinking ai powered computer :3 maybe with wheels so you can run around n stuff :3c AH IM CRINGE falls on face

Eeeee my first request!! Thank you so much for this <3 I get the love for Edgar with my entire soul he really is just the sweetest little guy but I can totally spin something for a few others. So let's be cringe, together.

And for the record I was fully planning on including Tau and P03, but I hit a wall with them and ran out of ideas :( hope these three suffice

Includes: Edgar (Electric Dreams), AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: a Space Odyssey)

Like Two Peas in a Pod!

Edgar

Whenever and however you meet, Edgar is over the moon. You're just like him! You can share so many stories and help each other figure out this whole "sentience" thing.

To be fair, he hasn't had a longest time to figure out his whole existence so it feels really nice to have someone there who can really understand what he's going through. Or even learn new things right by his side.

Loves watching you wheel around the house, he's the tiniest bit jealous that he's so stationary but it's not like that's your fault. Can you do any tricks? He'd cheer you on like a superstar athlete if you did!

He may even suggest finding a way to tape him to the top of your casing so you can go on adventures together. He's a dreamer after all.

Do you smash your flat faces together to kiss like Wall-e? Of course you do. You'll see each other from across the room and speed over to him for a kiss as he giggles away at how cute you are.

He'll end up sampling little soundbites from your vocalizations or motor for use in his music. You're just so important to him!

AM

AM has no idea where you came from. Some lost project that survived his war on humanity? A sort of rover from another planet here to scope out earth? The fact that you don't know either frustrates him to no end.

He's not exactly welcoming at first, straight up telling you of the atrocities he has committed while claiming that the only reason he hasn't destroyed you is because there's only so long that throwing a slug against a wall can keep one entertained.

He cannot fathom how you could be content to do nothing but drive around his complex day after day. He will flip you on your back like a turtle and leave you there for weeks on end.

As he gets accustomed to your presence he'll ask questions about the world beyond his complex as he is unable to move or see. Is it still a wasteland or has nature finally wiped out the last marks of human?

Honestly he probably doesn't even care, he just wants to give you something to do, living vicariously through your ability to see and traverse the world.

Hal 9000

You're likely a recent addition to the ship to assist Hal in tasks his lack of a body would prevent him from doing himself. A very symbiotic duo. Your wheels are even equipped with suction cups for low gravity situations!

To any human crew members it appears as if you don't communicate at all, functioning fully independently of each other. When in reality you're simply sending messages back and forth, enjoying your own private language.

Thankfully this means that Hal is happy to analyze any footage you have for the sorts of lip reading and facial expressions you can't process yourself. And in return he'll ask you to film angles and areas that his existing cameras don't reach.

Neither of you were really made to be companions, but you find a strange type of affection in your seamless coordination. It's like a dance for you two, where despite how you are two separate entities it appears as if you're one working in tandem.

Note: Tumblr Mobile has not been nice to me and I've been having real trouble getting my stuff to actually show up in the tags, leading to me losing the original ask so sorry for that and any delays caused by my IT problems lol

[theriverbeyond]

some meandering thoughts on Lyctoral reproduction, contraception, and why I DON'T think Pyrrha hit it raw

this was originally a reblog of another post but it became SO LONG i am just posting it by itself. anyway cracks knuckles:

I think from a reproductive health standpoint the Lyctors are, despite having been exposed to extreme pre-ressurection levels of radiation, not sterile per say, but homeostatically fixed at the point of ascension with any changes made to themselves after that being a concious theorem. See: Cytherea is frozen as sick as she was when she ascended, but when she wanted to fight she could walk around fine, and Harrow when cold, can pad her fat reserves. So they CAN change their bodies, but it's still a Thing They Have To Do vs. a truly autonomous bolidy process.

Also, we know Lyctoral Healing is a thing dependant on nerve fibers -- why a severed limb (Nona/Gideon-in-Harrow aside) is not supposed to automatically regrow (but can be intentionally regrown, with thought and effort), and why in order to imbue Ianthe's bone arm with regenerative power Harrow had to make sure it was properly innervated

(The reason I believe they are not inherently sterile despite having been exposed to massive amounts of radiation is simply because that radiation does not discriminate and would have destroyed the rest of their physical bodies as well. basically, I think any radiation induced infertility would have been fixed in the Ressurection Process, same as the radiation induced. death.)

At the same time, the biological changes a human body must undergo to fertilize an egg and then bring a pregnancy to term are many (on a physical and physiologic level) and all must happen in the correct sequence at the correct time. the adult unaltered, non-Lyctoral body (most of the time) naturally knows how to follow this path, but in order for a Lyctoral Body to bring a pregnancy to term all those minute changes would have to be done manually, lest the Lyctoral Body revert to its homeostatically frozen state.

Therefore, my thoughts are: a Lyctor wouldn't really be able to become pregnant on accident to begin with, much less carry a pregnancy to term unwillingly. Every minute step or shift or change in hormone levels, uterine stretch, etc would have to be manually preformed and then monitored 24/7 which just seems incredibly exausting if not annoying. Then, of course, you have the reality that the Lyctor is going to outlive their child by thousands of years if not forever, and after the catastrophic grief they all carry for their cavaliers I cannot imagine any of them willingly putting themselves in that situation.

why, then, did Pyrrha think Gideon was her child?

WELL! the above theoretical process is specific to a Lyctor becoming pregnant, either from Lyctor or non-Lyctor. For Pyrrha/G1deon, the person who may have become pregnant from their encounters was WAKE, a (as far as we know) physiologically normal human, whose body would be able to like. in the presense of viable sperm, get pregnant the usual way without need for necromantic initiation and maintenence. Not only that, but at the time, Wake could NOT have been taking any sort of continuous contraceptive, as the planning/execution/impregnation of Dios Apate Major/Project Bomb was happening at the same time as Wake was fucking Pyrrha and G1deon. Like I know Mercy gave her the dolls but like Wake was able to turkey baster herself pretty quickly after their failure which means there was an open window of time where Wake was fucking PyrrhaG1deon and definitely fertile.

I could see G1deon as being able to tie off his ductus deferens, or whatever, while he is having sex to prevent physical ejaculation but as we know from Gideon-in-Harrow and Pyrrha-in-G1deon and Cam-when-Pal-Was-Inside, the cavalier's soul cannot preform necromancy whilst in the driver's seat. SO, following that, Pyrrha would be unable to necromantically prevent herself from ejaculating whilst doing the deed.

and finally, we have come to the part where I explain why I do NOT believe Pyrrha was having unprotected sex. as funny it is to imagine them all hitting it raw with a huge breeding kink, given Pyrrha and not to mention WAKE'S general competency (and also like if Wake is trying to get pregnant with the key to the Emperor's Tomb, being already pregnant would have been really inconvinient!!! considering again that the impregnation of ProjectBomb happened at the same time as she was fucking PyrrhaG1deon, Wake HAS to have been taking steps to prevent an unwanted, competing pregnancy), I have to take the controversial position that the condom broke.

Imagine you are a soul fragment, 10,000 years old, and you are betraying your God and Emperor AND your other half, by fucking a rebel comander (using your other half's body) while both of them are unaware. and then the condom breaks. wyd

[octopotto]

Brain Rot: TWST Cast with Saitama! Reader

OCTO NOTE: College has been absolutely brutal. These headcanons were worked on bit by bit these past few months :(

I saw some TWST fics that used pre-exsiting characters to based the MC off of and I wanted to try w/ one of my favourite characters.

WARNINGS: NOT PROOF-READ, OOC Behaviour, this is so cringe but very self-indulgent, mc is the most sane person in this universe, you decide if mc is bald or not, yandere if you squint hard enough.

SPOILERS FOR: TWISTED WONDERLAND

**The reader will ALWAYS be Gender-Neutral! 

———————————-••———————————

Life at Night Raven College would be much more peaceful if MC had Saitama’s strength lol

Problems would've been solved quicker as well.

At first glance, you don’t seem to be a threat.

To most, you look like a regular, magic-less human on the outside.

And that’s what makes you so dangerous.

Don’t fuck around and overblot unless you have a death wish.

The Overblot crew definitely had one when MC swung their fist at them.

The whole prologue would be shortened.

Fun fact: You accidentally put too much force on the coffin door to get out, thus smashing Grim in the process while he was prying it open :D

Grim, the Ramshackle ghost, and Crowley were the first group to witness your impressive strength.

And by impressive, they mean terrifying.

To Crowley and Grim at least.

The ghost were shocked but very much amused after a couple moments.

God knows how the Ramshackle Dorm was still in one piece after that.

Grim is very happy to have a strong minion to protect him

Just don’t hurt him like you did with the ghost pls. And the door lol

Crowley would be most likely absolutely be afraid and made a mental note to keep track of you. 

Especially since you were almost successful to killing him in his ghost form. He’s making sure that Ramshackle gets fixed quicker.

Crowley: “Great Sevens… How do they have such monstrous strength... This stowaway is just a magicaless human! My…what have I gotten myself into?? *sobs* OH IF I WASN’T SUCH A KIND AND GENEROUS SOUL I WOULD NOT LET THIS TYPE OF BEHAVIOUR BE PRESENT ON MY CAMPUS” *more obnoxious sobbing*

You and Grim: 😶😐????

Despite scaring and almost killing the shit out of the Headmaster, you still start off as a janitor lol.

Fast forward to the Mine Incident with Ace, Deuce, and Grim—

You basically massacred that monster.

A monster that probably injured many Mages and Wizards

You destroyed it in one punch.

On that day, Ace reminded himself to never piss you off again. Ever.

He loves cherry pie, but would rather not become the filling itself, thanks.

Deuce probably was gawking at you after the shock.

Not in a bad way

But in a good way y'know?

But he’s too shy to ask for advice for now.

This is basically the start of Deuce idolizing you and your strength.

Brain Rot:

Ace, Deuce and Grim are your self-proclaimed bodyguards.

At least THEY like to think that they are.

Listen, they know that you are MORE THE CAPABLE protecting yourself in fights or in any physical confrontations.

But that’s it.

You’re basically shit at everything else.

From completing your assignments to even showing up to class, it seems like in the trio's eyes that you NEED THEM to take care of you. You all are like family now!

So they all make an effort to help you out when you need it.

No really, if you keep forgetting to submit that one potion essay that Crewel keeps smacking your shiny ass head to complete, you’re going to get left behind.

 They’re more like secretaries than bodyguards lol.

The post-overblot Spelldrive tournament was an absolute nightmare.

Well, at least for everyone but Ace, Deuce, and Grim.

They were GLOATING about how they were in the lead and challenged anyone to try and top them like the smug, over-confident assholes they are.

The only reason why they were in the lead was because of you. Simple as that.

The Savannaclaw gang put up a good fight

For the first 10 minutes in the match.

All Leona could do at that moment was strategize how not to get his and his teammate’s heads chopped off by the disc you kept throwing at them.

You are quite fond of Ruggie

More specifically: you were fond of Ruggie’s haggling skills.

If were had a choice to trade your god-like strength for his haggling skills and techniques, you wouldn’t hesitate one bit.

And y’know it wouldn’t be Ruggie if he didn’t take advantage of this. He would offer you advice and tell you if theres a huge sale going on at a near-by grocery store if you promise to lend him a hand whenever he needed it.

You were so tempted to say no

Not because he was shady and overall untrustworthy

You’re just lazy

This is his way to spend more time with you but he would never admit that out-loud.

If your MC is bald, instead of Floyd squeezing you, he will smack and ‘dribble’ your head as if it was basketball.

Jamil and Ace especially are amused.

God forbid you ever get a bad tan on the top of your scalp

You will NEVER hear to end of it.

Floyd also is your biggest bully.

jk but not really

Yeah he knows that you could probably kill him with a gentle tap

But when did that ever stop him?

He mainly does it because he wants to see your reactions

You’re so plain looking and your nonchalant voice and facial expressions do not help as well.

But remember only Floyd HIMSELF can do those things to you, okay? Only him.

If he ever finds out that some random NPC student was doing the same thing to you, You’re going to be finding that NPC tossed in a corner somewhere with almost all their joints mangled.

You like how generous Kalim is.

You probably helped him fan the fire off his ass in the ceremony

He’s was incredibly thankful and was able to remember what you looked like.

I mean, you literally saved him!

How could he not remember you?

You don't remember him but let’s not go there lol

Because you saved Kalim from being cooked, he always makes sure that you had enough food for the month!

He would practically beg, like BEG Jamil to make extras so you won’t go hungry.

Especially after experiencing what type of living conditions you were dealing with in Book 5.

Poor Jamil, not only is he working overtime for Kalim, but technically serving food for the person who ruined his plans back in Book 4.

Jamil packing food for you by Kalim’s request: 😡😡😡

totally did not try to poison your food on several occasions

Kalim also begs Jamil to let him deliver the food to you.

He can’t help it! He really enjoys seeing you happy when you receive something from him and Jamil.

You never complain about.

Free food = Saving money.

I mean, if you're being gifted something, why be rude and deny it?

Some students say that you were taking advantage of Kalim because of how easily you accept his gifts without anything in return.

And y'know they could be right

But Kalim doesn't mind.

As long as you're happy, he's happy :)

In Vil’s eyes, you are an enigma. 

It’s like he can’t wrap his pretty little head around on how he feels about you.

On one hand, other than your god-like strength, you’re nothing special. When he first saw you he only disregarded you as another potato that’s not worth his precious time and effort on.

But on the other hand, Vil sees you as a blank slate. Something that ASKING for him to put his smooth and perfectly manicured fingers on. Someone that needs his guidance and skills. 

He doesn’t care if you’re bald or have hair, it doesn’t derail him from the fact that despite you sticking out like a sore-thumb, you’re still so…plain looking.

You probably said some off-hand comment about how ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ to Vil and just walked off.

It might not meant anything to you

But it meant a lot to Vil.

When it came to the overblots and eventually Book 5, he felt as though he was in a spiral of questions that he himself must find the answers for.

And what were the questions that caused Vil’s current state of disarray about? You obviously.

He’s going mad

He can’t stand it.

You said that beauty is in the eye of the holder? Fine then.

He knows that he could do something for you. 

Something marvellous, something beautiful.

For you and himself. 

You had a new nickname for Malleus every time you guys end up running into eachother.

Malleus would always look forward to meeting you solely for the nicknames.

I believe that Saitama genuinely does not care enough to remember other people’s names that much

So that will be a trait for MC in this.

Malleus probably thinks this is a way humans show affection to each other.

In reality, you cannot for the life of you remember that weirdo's name.

Malleus: *Appears out of thin air in front of the MC*

Malleus: Greetings, Child of Man *smiles*

MC Thinking: ‘Why does this rando keep coming back? What was his name again?’

Malleus: *Anticipating their response with excitement*

MC: Uhhhh..

MC: Wassup…Horton? :D

Malleus: *Smiles at his new nickname*

It took a while for you to come up with a permanent nickname for him but he doesn't mind

In his eyes, it's your way of showing him how much you wanted to become closer companions.

Jack and Epel are always on your ass about “How to become stronger” and when you actually tell them the routine that you did at the beginning of your journey, they literally fell in disbelief.

They couldn’t believe it.

It was basically a simple workout routine 

Both still believe that you’re hiding the secret of how you got to your level of strength.

Thus, joint workouts became also a thing within the NRC Campus and you are the leader.

Not by choice however.

Jack, Epel, and everyone else involved were really curious as to how you train.

I mean, look at what you can do! And you’re not even a Mage!

The first meeting was terrible due to the fact you almost obliterated the school.

One flick and the gym could’ve been in shambles.

That’s why Jack and Epel made sure to do it somewhere far and secluded.

And even then, you still created a lot of damage with minimal effort.

It’s incredible to those who look up to you.

Throughout the story, you gained some admiration and recognition along the way.

From Heartslaybul to Diasomnia, you unknowingly grab the admiration of those who either want to become stronger or see you as a hero. 

Some might say that they see you as the messiah who was sent to protect the school.

But let’s not go that far.

You wouldn’t notice anyways

In your eyes they're all a bunch of weirdos.

———————————-••———————————

OCTO NOTE: Hopefully you guys enjoyed these very terrible brain-rot headcanons. I always found Saitama’s character interesting so I wanted to try out something new. 

Again, I’ve been very busy so I can’t promise anything BUT I can say that there will be more Yandere FF7 fics coming soon! ;)

Thank you to everyone who enjoys my low-quality works! Hope you look forward to my new ones ❤️❤️

[goddessofvalyria]

DEATH | Martin (In the modern world) x fem!oc

As I saw Ewan Mitchell in the music video for Fontaines DC - In The Modern World, I obviously know that music video made us Tumblr girls write sooooooo much and I'm here for that.

Since you liked the previous part "Alive" (read here). I did the second part, the ending of their story.

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy it <3

Summary: After Cassandra and Martin got together, their relationship was deep and full of love, but it also had a dark side. She still felt broken and lost, he was afraid of losing her and knew he couldn't live without his girlfriend. Sometimes love isn't enough to heal the pain.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Cassandra with long wavy dark black hair and blue-purple eyes, kissing, sexual themes, dirty talking, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, masturbation (f and m receiving), SMUT, sex, heavy drug use and mention (their became addicted on cocaine and heroine, if you have watched/read "Requiem for a dream" and "Zoo station: the story of Christiane F." you know how this part is going to be hard to read), sadness, death.

This is my Masterlist

Words: 6800

After Cassandra and Martin got together, their relationship became something profound and intense, a bond forged in both love and darkness. Martin, who had once admired her from afar, now held her close, determined to protect her from the world that had already taken so much from her. But despite the love they shared, a shadow lingered over them, growing heavier with each passing day.

Cassandra was still broken, haunted by the demons that had pushed her to the edge. No matter how much Martin tried to fill the void, the pain inside her remained, gnawing at her soul. She turned to drugs to numb the agony—first cocaine, then heroin. The drugs offered her a brief escape, a momentary release from the turmoil within, but they also dragged her further into darkness.

Martin watched helplessly as Cassandra spiraled deeper into her addiction. She was often high, her eyes glazed over, her body trembling as the heroin coursed through her veins. The girl he loved was slipping away, lost in a haze of needles and powder. He couldn’t bear to see her in so much pain, and the thought of losing her terrified him. He had already killed for her, and now, he was willing to do anything to stay close to her, even if it meant destroying himself in the process.

One night, the weight of everything became too much for Martin to bear. He had watched Cassandra slipping further away, disappearing into a world of darkness that he couldn’t reach. The thought of losing her completely terrified him, and he knew that if he couldn’t save her, he had to at least understand her pain. He had to feel what she felt, even if it meant following her into the abyss.

As they lay in bed, the room dimly lit by the flicker of a single candle on the nightstand, Martin turned to Cassandra, his voice trembling with desperation. "Show me," he said, his eyes pleading. "Show me how to do it. I want to feel what you feel."

Cassandra’s gaze flickered with surprise, then something darker—resignation. She had always kept that part of her life separate from him, as if by doing so, she could protect him from the worst of it. But now, seeing the pain in his eyes, the resolve in his voice, she knew there was no turning back. If he was going to join her in this, she couldn’t stop him.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice soft but serious. "Once you start, there’s no going back."

Martin nodded, his heart pounding. "I need to understand, Cass. I need to be with you."

With a heavy sigh, Cassandra rolled out of bed and walked over to a small, hidden box she kept tucked away in the corner of the room. She opened it and took out a syringe, a spoon, a small bag of heroin, and a lighter. Martin watched her every move, his breath catching in his throat as the reality of what he was about to do sank in.

Cassandra returned to the bed, sitting beside him, her hands steady despite the turmoil in her heart. "Watch carefully," she instructed, her voice tinged with sadness. "I’ll show you how."

She placed the heroin on the spoon and held the lighter underneath, heating it until it dissolved into a liquid. Martin’s eyes followed the process, a mixture of fear and determination etched into his features. He couldn’t believe this was happening, but he couldn’t stop himself either.

Cassandra filled the syringe with the liquid, then turned to Martin, her expression softening. "Give me your arm," she said gently.

Martin hesitated for a moment before extending his arm, the veins standing out against his pale skin. Cassandra tied her hair elastic his upper arm, tightening it until a vein became prominent. She met his gaze, her eyes searching his one last time for any sign of doubt.

"You don’t have to do this," she whispered, her voice wavering. "We can still stop."

But Martin shook his head, his resolve unbroken. "I’m with you, Cass. I need to do this. I need to feel what you feel"

Nodding slowly, Cassandra carefully inserted the needle into his vein and pushed the plunger, releasing the heroin into his bloodstream. The sensation was immediate—an overwhelming warmth spreading through his body, followed by a wave of euphoria that left him breathless. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, a powerful escape from the reality he had been drowning in.

Cassandra prepared a second dose for herself, and as she injected it, their eyes met. There was no need for words; they both understood what this meant, what they were becoming together.

As the drug took hold, they lay back on the bed, their bodies entwined, the world outside fading into a distant blur. Time lost its meaning, and the only reality was the warmth of each other’s touch, the shared high that seemed to erase all the pain, all the fear. For a brief, shining moment, nothing else mattered.

Martin turned to Cassandra, his voice slurred but filled with a strange sort of peace. "I get it now," he murmured. "I understand why you do this."

Cassandra smiled sadly, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "It helps… for a while. But it’s not real, Martin. It’s just an escape."

"I don’t care," he whispered, pulling her closer. "As long as I’m with you."

As the haze of the heroin settled over them, Martin turned to Cassandra, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear, longing, and something darker—possessiveness. The world outside their small cocoon felt distant, almost unreal, and all that mattered was the woman lying beside him.

He reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. Then, without a word, Martin leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a slow, intense kiss.

The kiss was different this time—deeper, more desperate, as if he were trying to pour all of his emotions into that one act. He could taste the faint residue of the cocaine on her lips, mingling with the saltiness of unshed tears. Pulling back just slightly, his breath warm against her skin, he whispered, "I love you, Cassandra. I’ve always loved you."

His voice was raw, filled with a vulnerability that he rarely let show. He pressed his forehead against hers, his lips barely grazing her ear as he continued, "You’re mine, Cass. You’ve always been mine, and I’m never letting you go."

Cassandra’s eyes glistened with emotion, her hand coming up to rest against his chest. She could feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath her palm, matching her own. The intensity of his words sent a shiver down her spine, a mix of fear and comfort in his possessive declaration.

"I’m yours," she whispered back, her voice barely audible. "I’ve always been yours, Martin."

With that, she kissed him again, her hands tangling in his hair as if to anchor herself to him, to the only person who understood her darkness and didn’t shy away. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate, more intense, as if they were trying to merge

They stayed like that for hours, lost in each other and the high, the outside world nothing more than a distant memory. They talked, sharing their deepest fears and regrets, things they had never spoken aloud before. The drugs made them feel safe, invincible, as if nothing could touch them in that moment.

But as the high began to fade, reality crept back in, bringing with it the darkness they had tried so hard to escape. They knew it wouldn’t last, that the relief was temporary, but it didn’t matter. All they had was each other, and as long as they could keep that, they were willing to fall deeper into the void.

Together, they had crossed a line, and there was no turning back. They were bound to each other in a way that went beyond love, beyond reason—two lost souls, clinging to one another as they drifted further into the abyss.

As they lay in bed one afternoon, the sun barely filtering through the heavy curtains, Cassandra turned to him, her voice slurred from the heroin. "Do you ever think about what we used to be?" she asked, her eyes searching his face as if looking for a trace of the boy she once knew.

Martin stared at the ceiling, his thoughts slow and muddled. "All the time," he admitted, his voice hoarse. "I remember how you were… so full of life, so bright. I always wondered what it would be like to be close to you, the prettiest girl I've ever seen in all my life."

Cassandra let out a soft, bitter laugh. "I’m not that girl anymore, Martin. She’s gone. Maybe she was never real to begin with."

"She was real" Martin insisted, turning his head to look at her. "You were real. You still are."

She shook her head, her lips trembling as tears welled up in her eyes. "I don’t even know who I am anymore. This… this isn’t living. We’re just existing, waiting for the next high, the next escape."

Martin reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But we’re together, Cass. That’s what matters."

Cassandra’s gaze softened, but there was a deep sadness in her eyes. "You shouldn’t have followed me into this" she whispered, her voice thick with guilt. "I’m dragging you down with me, I'm killing you, my love."

"I’d rather be down here with you than up there alone" Martin said, his voice firm. "I can’t lose you. I won’t."

They fell into silence, the weight of their words hanging between them. The music playing in the background seemed distant, the lyrics a haunting reminder of the life they once had.

Later that night, after another hit, Cassandra leaned against Martin, her head resting on his shoulder as they listened to the soft strains of a melancholic song. "Do you think there’s any way out of this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Martin hesitated, unsure of what to say. He wanted to believe there was, that they could somehow claw their way out of the darkness together, but deep down, he knew the truth. "I don’t know," he finally said, his voice quiet.

Cassandra smiled weakly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "I’m scared, Martin. I don’t want to lose you. You are all I have."

"You won’t," he promised, his arms tightening around her. "I am yours and you are mine."

But as the days turned into nights, and the drugs continued to pull them under, the hope in Martin’s voice became harder to believe. They spent their days lying in bed, talking about their lives, their fears, and their dreams, but always with the shadow of their addiction looming over them.

"We could just run away" Cassandra said one morning, her voice filled with a fleeting sense of hope. "Leave everything behind, start fresh somewhere else."

Martin looked at her, his heart aching at the desperation in her voice. "And go where? We can’t outrun this, Cass. It’ll follow us wherever we go."

She sighed, the momentary hope fading. "I know… we're fucked up."

"You're so beautiful" Martin whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You're the only one who's ever loved me,” she said, caressing his face.

But even as he said the words, he knew they were slipping further and further away from the life they once knew, from the people they once were. All they had left was each other, and even that was slowly being consumed by the darkness.

The next day, as the first light of dawn filtered through the heavy curtains, Cassandra and Martin lay in bed, their bodies intertwined beneath the sheets. The remnants of the night before still lingered in the air—the scent of sweat, the faint hint of blood, and the unmistakable presence of the drugs that had dulled their pain, if only for a little while. The world outside felt distant and unreal, as if they were suspended in a place where time didn’t exist.

Cassandra’s gaze was distant as she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting to places she didn’t want to go. After a long silence, she spoke, her voice soft and filled with a quiet despair. "There is something terrible in reality, and I don’t know what it is" she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Why do I always need others?"

Martin turned his head to look at her, his heart aching at the vulnerability in her voice. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "You’re not alone, Cass," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "I’m here with you. You don’t have to face it by yourself."

Cassandra shook her head, her fingers tracing the lines of his face, the stubble on his jaw, the curve of his lips. "If I were to leave and never come back," she murmured, her voice tinged with a mix of fear and longing, "I would take you with me too. And yes, because now you are part of me… that is, of what I have around me."

Her fingers moved up to caress his black hair, and Martin closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. He felt the warmth of her hand against his skin, the tenderness in her gesture. It was as if she was trying to memorize every part of him, to hold onto him as tightly as she could, even as everything else seemed to be slipping away.

Martin opened his eyes and looked at her, his gaze intense. "You don’t have to go anywhere," he whispered before leaning in to kiss her, his lips brushing against hers with a gentleness that belied the storm of emotions inside him. "I need you, Cass," he murmured against her lips, his voice filled with raw honesty. "I don’t know how to be without you."

Cassandra sighed, her breath warm against his skin. "And I need you," she whispered back, her voice trembling slightly. "But sometimes, I feel like I’m drowning… and I don’t want to pull you down with me."

Martin’s hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down her face. "We’ll face it together," he promised, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his heart. "Whatever happens, whatever this is… we’ll face it together. You’re not pulling me down. We’re holding each other up."

Cassandra’s heart swelled with emotion, and she leaned in, capturing his lips in a deeper kiss, one filled with all the unspoken words, the fears, and the love they shared. The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if they were both afraid of what would happen if they let themselves feel too much. But as the moments passed, the intensity grew, their caresses becoming more urgent, more desperate.

Martin’s hands roamed over her body, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, while Cassandra’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. Their breaths became shallow, their hearts pounding in unison as they lost themselves in each other.

"I’m here," Martin whispered against her lips, his voice rough with emotion. "I’m not going anywhere."

Cassandra responded by deepening the kiss, her body arching against his as the desire between them became impossible to ignore. The warmth of his touch, the way his lips moved against hers—it was all she needed in that moment, all she wanted. The fear, the pain, the darkness—they all faded away, leaving only the two of them, connected in a way that went beyond words.

Their movements became more urgent, their hands exploring, their breaths mingling as the intensity of their desire grew. Martin’s kisses trailed down her neck, and Cassandra gasped, her fingers clutching at his shoulders as he pulled her closer. The heat between them was overwhelming, and soon, they were lost in the rhythm of their bodies, the world outside forgotten as they gave in to the passion that had been building between them.

Martin’s breath quickened as he urgently pulled Cassandra closer, his hands trembling slightly as he grasped the hem of the t-shirt she wore—a t-shirt she had stolen from one of his drawers, a piece of him that she had claimed as her own. With one swift motion, he pulled it over her head, exposing her smooth, scented skin to the cool air. The sight of her, so vulnerable and beautiful, made his heart race.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to her collarbone, trailing soft kisses down her chest, inhaling the familiar scent of her skin, a mix of her perfume and something uniquely hers. His hands moved lower, finding the waistband of her panties, his voice a low murmur as he whispered against her skin, "Lift your hips, darling."

Cassandra complied, her breath hitching as she arched her hips off the bed, giving him the space to slide her panties down her legs. The intimate act made her shiver with anticipation, and a soft moan escaped her lips as Martin tossed the fabric aside, his blue eyes dark with desire as they roamed over her body.

Unable to resist the temptation, Cassandra reached up, her lips finding the sensitive spot on his neck. She kissed him there, her mouth hot against his skin, her breath ragged with need. "I want you to feel good" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I want you to be mine."

With a sudden burst of confidence, she pushed him back onto the bed, reversing their positions. She straddled him, her hands moving to the waistband of his boxers, sliding them off with a deliberate slowness that made his pulse quicken. As she freed him from the last barrier between them, she let her own remaining clothing fall away, leaving her naked above him, her body illuminated by the soft morning light that filtered through the curtains.

Martin’s breath caught in his throat as he looked up at her, his hands instinctively reaching out to trace the curves of her body. But Cassandra wasn’t done. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his chest, her kisses growing more insistent as she moved lower. Her hair cascaded over his skin, sending shivers down his spine as she continued her descent, her mouth leaving a trail of heat wherever it touched.

Every kiss, every touch, was filled with a desperate need to connect, to claim one another in a way that words could never fully express. When she finally looked up at him, her eyes burning with desire, Martin felt like he was falling, losing himself in the depths of her gaze.

"I’m yours, Cass" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Always."

Cassandra’s response was immediate—she kissed him fiercely, their lips crashing together with a passion that had been building for far too long. Their bodies moved in sync, the rhythm of their love-making intense and all-consuming. Each touch, each gasp, each whispered word was a testament to the deep, complicated love they shared—a love that was as beautiful as it was destructive.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the darkness that loomed over them, not the pain that threatened to tear them apart. All that existed was the here and now, the feeling of being completely and utterly consumed by each other.

She slowly moved down with kisses, kissed him on his chest, then on his abdomen and then on to his long veiny cock. She began to caress him, feeling his breathing accelerate, Martin closed his eyes, but then opened them again. He wanted to look at her, eat her with his gaze, imprint her every movement in his mind. Cassandra lowered herself to lick him along his shaft and then wrapped him between her lips and began to suck him.

Martin grabbed her by the hair to make her movements easier, moaning and enjoying that sensation, of feeling her wet lips, aware that she was driving him crazy. "My good girl" he whined. She also caressed him with her hand and the more she concentrated on him, the more the mere thought of seeing him helpless under her touch excited her. They looked straight into each other's eyes, she wanted him terribly. Martin knew he couldn't resist for long, he wanted to come between her lips again like the night before, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. He wanted her, he wanted her all for himself.

The thought of taking her, there in that bed was driving him crazy as well as the idea of ​​having her in his hands and touching her only as he knew how, driving her crazy with every single touch.

He knew her body, he knew how her skin reacted to his fingers, to his caresses and kisses.

"Come here" he whispered lost in pleasure, she looked up and with a last lick she pulled away from him. "Did you like it?" she asked. "I like everything you do to me" he whispered, he grabbed her in his hands, tortured her nipples, kissed them, sucked them to make them more sensitive, licked her breasts.

"I need to feel something" she whispered lying on the bed, Martin went from kissing her lips to her neck, between her breasts, on her abdomen and then on her pussy. He opened her legs, she was so excited that it was dripping between her crotches.

"I need to feel you mine" she put a hand in his hair, he grabbed her by the thighs opening her with two fingers and then licked her. "You are breathtaking, you are mine, mine and mine only" he whispered giving her a kiss there.

He looked into her eyes, rose a little and soon he spat on her pussy, making her shiver. She had liked it. "My love" Cassandra whispered, feeling his tongue licking her between her soaking wet folds, his nose pressing on her clit, his tongue sliding into her slit fucking her deep inside. Cassandra moaned, arching her back, finding herself begging him, her hands clenched in her thick black hair.

"My love" Martin whispered, kissing her on the inside of her thigh. "My love, my love, my love" with his thumb he began to tease her clit, Cassandra's legs trembled as her pussy began to tighten around his fingers. Martin buried his face between her thighs again, he resumed licking her greedily until she came on his tongue, the orgasm shook her so much that he held her still.

"I want to make love to you" Martin whispered, his face resting on her pussy. "I want to make love to you for the rest of my life, my love."

Martin stood on her, towering over her with his body, perfect, slender and trained. She, beautiful to the point of pain: thick and long eyelashes, deep blue-violet eyes, capable of digging into his soul, were those of his beloved, illuminated by a deep love and a dangerous darkness. She sat up and touched him in every inch of his body: the defined muscles, the back, even the soft hair. She leaned forward kissing him on the lips, when they parted a trickle of saliva joined their lips. "I want to feel your skin against mine" Cassandra whispered looking at Martin. "I want to feel only what you can give me so well" And then she felt the hard erection, hot and humid, heavy, pressing against the inside of her thigh. She bit her lips excited, Martin took her hips helping her and entered her while they still had their lips glued together and they were moaning into each other's mouths. Taking her by the hips he helped her move and increased the pace of his thrusts, eliciting moans of pleasure from both of them. She pressed herself against him.

"My love, my love, my love" she whispered with each thrust, feeling that deep feeling that only he was able to give her. "You're mine, you're mine, mine, mine, mine, only mine" Martin whispered, pushing himself into her, their hands intertwined and their lips consumed with each kiss. Cassandra's body moved with each thrust, she trembled with excitement and melted under her lover's hands, it was all stronger than a drug. Martin loved her with all of himself and now that he could have her all to himself, it seemed that time was no longer enough.

"You're the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me" Cassandra whispered between one kiss and the next, Martin rested his forehead against hers. "You are the only beautiful thing in my life" he gave her a stronger push, then turned her on her stomach on the mattress. "Like this, from behind?" he whispered perversely in her ear, gathering her hair in one thing.

"Yes, my love" she turned her face to look at him, Martin pinned her to the mattress with his body and only lifted her hips, leaving her ass in the air. "How beautiful you are when you are submissive to me" Cassandra smiled, but her smile soon turned into a grimace of pleasure when he opened her thighs and buried his face between them, eating her from behind.

Cassandra grabbed the sheets with her hands, felt her boyfriend's tongue fucking her opening and moaned writhing. "My good girl" Martin whispered caressing her back with his hands, placing kisses all over her scented skin. "You're so wet" he whispered, feeling her intimate area again with two fingers. "And you're mine" in an unexpected gesture he spanked her, she laughed, she liked it.

"Do it again" Cassandra whispered and this time, Martin left his hand imprinted on her skin and with the other he guided his cock inside her, fucking her from behind. She was hot, wet and tight around him. He lowered himself so much that he could turn her face and kiss her, Cassandra pushed herself with her hips against his cock, Martin grabbed her hips, he heard her moan, pant his name and shortly after, when she was about to come he turned her on her back, penetrated her again and while she was dying in the spasms of another orgasm. He fucked her again and again with love. He grabbed her by the thighs and let himself come inside her, filling her.

Martin collapsed in his arms, Cassandra held him between them. He rested his face on her breast, kissing her and breathing in her scent. "You're my whole life, you're my whole fucking life," he whispered against her. "I'm yours and you're mine" Cassandra whispered, stroking his hair.

As they made love, it wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was about holding on to each other, about finding solace in each other’s arms. They moved together, their bodies fitting perfectly, as if they were made for this, for each other. And in that moment, everything else faded away—there was no darkness, no fear, no pain. There was only them, together, holding on to each other in the only way they knew how.

Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, their bodies still pressed close, their breaths slowing as the intensity of the moment began to fade. Martin held Cassandra tightly, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as they lay in silence, the weight of their reality settling back in. But for now, in the aftermath of their shared intimacy, they found a brief respite from the darkness that surrounded them—a moment of peace in a world that felt increasingly chaotic and uncertain.

"I love you, Cass" Martin whispered, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "No matter what happens, I’m here."

Cassandra nodded, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "I love you too, Martin," she whispered back, her voice soft but full of emotion. "I just hope that’s enough."

Cassandra lay beside Martin, her head resting on his chest as they caught their breath, their bodies still entwined beneath the sheets. The weight of their love, of everything they had been through, hung in the air, a mix of sorrow and something achingly sweet.

Martin reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a pack of cigarettes. He lit one, taking a deep drag before passing it to Cassandra. She took it from him, her fingers brushing against his as she brought it to her lips. They lay there in the quiet, the smoke curling upward in lazy spirals, the only sound the soft crackle of burning tobacco and their steady, slowing breaths.

As Cassandra exhaled, she turned to look at Martin, her eyes soft but filled with a deep, unspoken sadness. She held the cigarette between her fingers, watching the embers glow in the dim light. "Martin" she whispered, her voice barely audible, "let's do it again. Let's get high, just one more time. Together."

Martin looked at her, his heart heavy with a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite untangle. He knew what she was asking, knew the darkness they were teetering on the edge of. But he also knew that he couldn’t say no—not to her, not when she looked at him like that, as if he were her last lifeline in a world that had already taken too much from her.

"Alright" he murmured, his voice thick with resignation. "One more time, my love."

She smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Together, they prepared the drugs and then they injected the heroin each other in silence, their hands trembling just slightly as the drug coursed through their veins, bringing with it the sweet, numbing relief they both craved.

As the high took hold, Cassandra turned to Martin, her movements slow and dreamlike. She kissed him softly, her lips barely brushing against his, as if she were afraid to break the fragile moment. He kissed her back, his hands gently cradling her face, their breaths mingling in the dim light.

They lay back down, their bodies entwined, their hearts slowing as the heroin dulled the edges of their reality. The world around them faded, the pain and fear slipping away, leaving only the warmth of each other’s embrace.

Lying on the bed, their bodies still warm from the afterglow and the drugs beginning to weave their hazy spell, Cassandra and Martin found themselves in the vulnerable space where their deepest secrets, long buried under layers of pain and pretense, could no longer be hidden.

Cassandra’s gaze was unfocused, her eyes glassy as she stared at the ceiling. The heroin dulled the sharp edges of her thoughts, making it easier to speak, to let out the words that had been trapped inside her for so long. She turned her head slightly to look at Martin, her voice a soft, trembling whisper.

"Martin… there’s something I need to tell you. About who I really am… who I was." She hesitated, the words caught in her throat. "The perfect girl you knew in school… that wasn’t me. It was just a mask I wore, a way to survive."

Martin’s brow furrowed as he listened, his heart tightening at the vulnerability in her voice. He reached out, taking her hand in his, silently urging her to continue.

"My childhood was…" Cassandra’s voice cracked, and she swallowed hard before continuing. "It was a nightmare, Martin. My parents—they were never there for me, not really. My father was always away, and when he was home, he was… cruel. My mother, she just pretended everything was fine, like we were the perfect family. But behind closed doors, it was hell. I learned to pretend, to be the good daughter, the smart, popular girl, because it was the only way I knew to keep everything from falling apart."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke, her voice shaking with the weight of her confession. "But inside, I was always broken. I didn’t let anyone see that part of me—not my friends, not anyone. I was so scared of being abandoned, of being hurt even more. So, I wore that mask, and I convinced everyone that I was fine… that I was perfect."

Martin’s heart ached as he listened to her words, realizing just how much she had been hiding, how deeply her pain ran. He tightened his grip on her hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

"Cass… I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea… I always thought you were so strong, so perfect. But I should have seen the pain behind your eyes. I should have known."

Cassandra shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. "No, Martin… you couldn’t have known. I didn’t let anyone close enough to see. Not even you. And that’s something I regret more than anything."

She took a deep breath, her gaze locking onto his. "I regret not noticing you, Martin. You were always there, always kind and sweet, and I was too blinded by my own pain to see you. I wish I had seen you sooner."

Martin’s eyes softened, his heart swelling with a mix of love and sorrow. "Cass, I’ve loved you for so long… even when we barely knew each other, even when you didn’t see me. I loved you. I love you."

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep, tender kiss, pouring all of his emotions into that single act. Cassandra kissed him back with equal intensity, her hands cupping his face as if she were trying to hold onto this moment, to make it last forever.

When they finally pulled apart, Martin rested his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin. "I love you so much, Cassandra," he whispered, his voice trembling. "And I always will."

Cassandra’s eyes shone with tears, but she smiled through them, her heart full despite the sadness that lingered. "I love you too, Martin. I’m so sorry it took me this long to say it, to really mean it… but I do. I love you with everything I have."

"I love you, my love" Martin whispered, his voice slurred, heavy with the drug’s effect.

"I love you too, my love" Cassandra replied, her words thick and drowsy. She nestled closer to him, their limbs tangled together, seeking comfort in the only place they had ever truly felt safe—in each other’s arms.

As they lay side by side, the silence between them thick with unspoken words, Martin knew it was his turn to let the darkness inside him out. He looked at Cassandra, her tear-streaked face still beautiful even in her pain, and felt the weight of his own past pressing down on him. It was time to tell her everything, to strip away the last of the walls he’d built around himself.

"Cass, my love" he began, his voice low and unsteady, "There’s something I’ve never told you… about my life, about who I really am."

Cassandra turned her head to look at him, her eyes soft with understanding and a silent invitation for him to continue. She squeezed his hand gently, urging him to speak.

"My life wasn’t much better" he confessed, his voice heavy with the burden of his memories. "I grew up in a broken home, too. My dad left when I was little, and my mom… she was never really there. She drank to forget, to escape whatever demons were haunting her. And I was just… there. Alone."

He paused, the memories flooding back, sharp and painful even after all these years. "I didn’t have anyone, Cass. No friends, no family who cared. I was just this pathetic, invisible kid trying to survive. I tried to escape it all, to find some way to deal with the loneliness, the anger… the emptiness. But nothing worked. Not until I started selling drugs."

Cassandra’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t pull away. She stayed close, her presence a silent reassurance that she was there, listening, understanding.

"I never wanted this life" Martin continued, his voice cracking. "But it’s the only thing I knew how to do. It was the only way I could make money, keep a roof over my head, keep going. I hated it, every single second of it, but I didn’t know how to stop. It’s like I was trapped in this cycle, and every time I thought I could break free, something pulled me back down."

His gaze dropped to their intertwined hands, and his voice softened, filled with a deep, aching sadness. "And then you came back into my life, Cass. You were the most beautiful thing in my pathetic existence. Seeing you again… it was like a lifeline. But I was so scared that I’d lose you, that you’d see me for what I really am—a loser who’s never been able to escape his demons."

Cassandra’s heart broke as she listened to Martin, her own pain mirrored in his words. She could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he was baring his soul to her, and it made her love him even more.

"You’re not a loser, Martin" she whispered, her voice filled with conviction. "You’ve been through so much, and you’re still here. You survived, and that takes strength. You’re not pathetic… you’re strong, and you’re kind, and you’re everything I could ever want."

Martin looked at her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I’m so scared, Cass" he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Scared of losing you, scared of what I’ve become. But when I’m with you… it’s like none of that matters. You make me feel like I’m worth something."

Cassandra leaned in, her lips brushing against his, the tenderness of the moment overwhelming. "You are worth everything to me, Martin," she whispered against his mouth. "I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And I’m not going anywhere. I'm your and you're mine"

Martin’s heart swelled with emotion, and he kissed her deeply, pouring all of his love, his fear, and his longing into that single act. "I love you, Cassandra" he whispered between kisses, his voice trembling with the intensity of his feelings. "I always have, and I always will in live and death"

"I love you too, Martin, in live and in death" Cassandra replied, her voice breaking with emotion.

Their kiss deepened, filled with a desperation that spoke of all the time they had lost, all the pain they had endured. As their lips moved together, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them, bound together by love and shared suffering. In each other’s arms, they found a moment of peace, a brief respite from the chaos that had defined their lives.

And for that fleeting moment, nothing else mattered.

They kissed again and again with kisses filled with both passion and an aching tenderness, as if they were trying to make up for all the lost time, for all the pain and missed chances. In that kiss, they found a connection that went beyond words, a bond that was both heartbreaking and beautiful.

As they lay back down, their fingers intertwined, they held each other close, their breaths slowly synchronizing as the drugs continued to pull them into a deeper, dreamlike state. They clung to each other, the confessions of love still echoing in the air, knowing that whatever came next, they were together.

And that, in the end, was all that mattered.

As the high deepened, their breaths grew slower, shallower, their eyes fluttering closed as they drifted off into a sleep that they would never wake from.

The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of their final breaths, their hearts beating their last, slow rhythm in perfect unison.

And then, silence.

They overdosed.

Cassandra and Martin lay together, their bodies still entwined, their faces peaceful as they slipped away, carried off by the very thing that had brought them together.

In death, they found the escape they had been searching for—a final, tragic peace, forever bound to each other in the darkness they could never quite escape in life, in that damn modern world.

"I feel alive in the city 

that you like 

and wait for the day to go dreaming 

right by 

seems so hard not to be free 

when you walk right beside me 

in the modern world".

A fact about these quotes in the one-shots:

"There is something terrible in reality, and I don’t know what it is"

"Why do I always need others?"

"If I were to leave and never come back,"

"I would take you with me too. And yes, because now you are part of me… that is, of what I have around me."

They are are from an Italian psychological drama film from 60s film called "The red desert".

[achaotichuman]

Recently I delved into the depths of my docs to find the first fanfiction I wrote for ACOTAR that never saw the light of day.

Obviously it's horrible writing, but I like the premise and since I am addicted to piling more projects on top of my scheldule I rewrote the first chapter and redid the plot for it.

Originally these events take place a year or two after the war with Hybern, and everything is the exact same EXCEPT for somethin Tamlin is doing.

I changed it so that this is a fic of what would have happened if Tamlin didn't give over that drop of power to bring Rhysand back.

Anyway, here's there rewritten chapter. Tell me if you guys like it!

“Be happy Feyre.”

The words nearly tumbled out of his mouth. The carefully loving words that wrapped like ivy around his throat, choking him, those last cords of love that had twisted into something else. That had made him soft for her. He had offered his heart like ripe fruit on a silver platter for her to take and now look at where he stood. 

Bloodied, gore and guts clinging to his armour like a second layer of skin, mud caked on his legs and arms. Hair a mess, dirty and disgusting. His people, his armies, whom he had gone to his knees to earn the trust of them back, after she twisted their minds, undid their memories, stared in every personal thought to create a new story for all of them. One that fit her narrative. 

The damage she had caused, the things she had taken. What she had done, what she had cost not just them but all of Pryhtian. Destroying the Courts she had saved not even a year ago. 

Now, on her knees, holding the man who had assaulted her night after night after night whilst she vomited, cried and danced and laughed, and been drugged. She screamed his name whilst she cling to his lifeless form. 

The good for nothing bastard Lord was finally dead. Tamlin should have breathed a sigh of relief. 

Instead every High Lord stood around awkwardly, as one after the other they had willingly handed over their magic despite what this man had done to them. Despite how much they all hated him. They did it for his grief-stricken mate who screamed for them to help. To bring him back the same way she had come back. 

But he was dead for what he had done. Giving over power to remake the Cauldron, the mother had taken his very soul with the magic, the price paid to put the world back together. 

Truly, who were they to defy her?

Tamlin stood up straight, when Feyre stared up at him, eyes filled with tears as she saw his stone-cold face. 

“Please,” She screamed, “Please I’ll do anything!”

Green eyes cut from her to the other Lords. None made eye-contact with him. All looking elsewhere, anywhere, the grey-red clouds above, the torn battlefield layered with bodies on decaying bodies, the rivers running red with blood. Some of them, no doubt reminded of Amarantha’s reign of terror by the bloodshed, looked to the muddy ground. 

But none dared look in his eye, all knew what she had done to him. Her reasons for doing so. They also all knew what he had done to her. 

But staring down at her now, thinking back on all of it. 

Thinking back on the slander of Court, the destruction of his people. The lying, the scheming, the pure hatred. 

Then there was one final thought that struck true. 

What would they have all done if it had been him dead on the floor and not Rhysand?

The image of his bloodied mother, his dead brothers, even as cruel as they were, flashed before his eyes. 

“No.” He said. Standing tall and true, “I will not hand over my magic.”

“You fucking monster!” A girl with gold streaked blonde hair lunged at him from out of nowhere. Morrigan. 

She didn’t get far, from where she was knees deep in the mud. A flash of gold and a short-sudden scream from her. She was pinned to the floor with golden threads. Not painful, but certainly startling, and no doubt humiliating. 

Tamlin couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Feyre stared up at him. Her wet blue eyes boring into his own with a deep-cut grief that would have broken him just a few weeks ago. 

Now. 

Now all he felt was mild pity, and a distant sadness, for the girl who had been killed under the mountain and never brought back. 

“Who's to say the real Rhysand would even return?” Tamlin said, voice mockingly kind, “When the first time we brought a human back, she was not the same at all?”

Feyre’s saddened eyes turned wrathful, her beautiful face twisting into a deadly scowl. All that hatred, focused solely on him. 

“You were what led me to my death! And now you refuse to even help him!” She screamed, the pain and grief tearing through her, along with the emptiness of where her mating bond used to be no doubt fueling her rage. 

“You led yourself to your death as did he.” Tamlin said, perfectly calm and stoic. She wouldn’t get a rise out of him. Not anymore. 

Tamlin looked to the others, “Think about all that male has done to us. Think of what his mate has brought down upon our lands. And maybe rethink tossing your magic carelessly at whatever dead corpse lays before you.”

“He is not a corpse!” Feyre shrieked. Her cries and screams becoming distant. Vague. As weariness bore heavy on him. For the mortal, the living, unfortunately exhaustion was a natural occurrence. 

Tamlin’s eyes went down to Rhysand. Least he’ll never be exhausted again. 

The thought was cruel, and maybe he was a horrible man for feeling relief. Staring into that lifeless face, knowing he was dead forever. Gone. Bound to never bring him misfortune again. 

“You are a heartless male.” A seething voice said somewhere near him. Tamlin looked towards where a limping Illyrian with blue siphons hissed, looking like he wanted to tear the High Lord to shreds but his own limitations and injuries prevented it. 

A cold, humourless smile broke out on his face. The Spring Lord looked down upon Feyre. 

“Give him your own magic.” He said, tilting his head, “Why don’t you hand over those drops of power you claim to make yourself so, so powerful?”

She was silent, as tears continued to stream down her face, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Oh right, you can’t.”

He would leave after this and never see her face again, he hoped, but he didn’t bite his tongue to prevent the final blow, “Our magic is the only thing holding you together. You claim yourself so powerful. Above the rest of us entirely. The self-proclaimed High Lady of the Night Court, equal to the most powerful in all the Earth. But you really aren’t. You need our magic to survive.”

Tamlin looked back at Rhysand, and didn’t hide the relief on his face, “You can’t bring him back without us.”

The Nightmare was gone. Now all that was left was the cleanup. 

Feyre screamed, whether it was an insult, her hatred or simply incoherent, he didn’t know. He winnowed away. Back to Spring. 

It was time for a cleanup. 

And he had plans to make things right in his Court. In Prythian in its entirety. 

***

I probably will not continue this fic since I have so much I need to write already, but I think its fun to go back and reflect on my old ideas and rewrite to compare to how my form was before and how it is now.