#one of those things that fill you with hope and awe at humanity

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ooo you’re doing Pressure!!

May I request an artist reader who, throughout the journey found some paper, pencil and made a little makeshift sketchbook and when later bought Sebastian’s document decided to try and draw him? Like maybe both when human and current (and maybe the monsters)? 

Perhaps he saw them sketching, got curious and decided to look through it when reader left it somewhere or just straight up snatched it and held it out of their reach and sees those sketches of him. Could be hurt/comfort or angst/fluff.

Of course you’re free to change any of the details but please keep it platonic TwT

Aw love this idea! And it works considering all the paper and notebooks in the drawers of the blacksite.

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

"Great, [y/n]. One moment, you're doing some harmless graffiti on a brick wall nobody cares about. And the next, you're risking your life for a stupid crystal in hopes you'll get a federal pardon.."

Sighing, you held onto the overhead handles within the sleek black submarine, feeling it shake and rumble as it breached the water's surface. And after hearing the chime, the door hissed and opened up, the platform extending out onto the dock of a place already familiar to you: Hadal Blacksite.

'No place like home..' As you stepped out of the submarine, you could hear HQ over the PDA system informing you of your objective in reaching the crystal and collecting any "loose assets" you find along the way...

As if you needed any reminders of what you were doing here.

Immediately, you unlocked the first door with the keycard and began your journey to room 100. Along the way, you found a good handful of research data. Nothing too special aside from folders, USB drives, and a couple blue DNA vials.

Then after narrowly dodging the Angler in one area and avoiding Eyefestation's gaze in the next, you reached a room requiring yet another keycard to exit. You checked the nearby office cubicle, finding it in the first drawer you opened.

But that isn't what made your eyes light up. Rather, it's what was right next to the card that did:

A brand new pencil to go with the sketchbook you've been carrying with you.

Because you weren't given the luxury of doodling while sitting in jail for over 90 days, you felt your creativity flames being snuffed out, leaving you itching to draw something again.

Before all of this, you had a decent following on social media with your art skills, and you could imagine that they're worried sick over your sudden absence. But you hoped that, if you survive and succeed in this mission, you'll be able to come back and reassure them that you're very much alive.

And perhaps show them what Urbanshade has been hiding from the public...that is to say the sea monsters that have taken up residence in the Blacksite since its lockdown, freely roaming and haunting nearly every room you step into.

With the makeshift sketchbook you had (and somehow kept even after death), you've filled its pages with simple and detailed sketches of each creature you encountered.

But you doubt that they would let you leave with physical evidence of entities nobody else in the world should know about...unless you somehow convinced the guards that they were "original characters" that so-happened to look like them, but you had a feeling that excuse wouldn't fly.

Regardless, they've given you tons of artistic inspiration, despite your many close-calls with them in pursuit of studying their features from afar.

Thanks to the files Sebastian Solace has shown you, you've learned how to safely observe the Angler from a distance and better remember their details. They were merely a grotesque face surrounded by smoke, so you didn't have to worry about drawing any limbs or tails (assuming they had those).

You encountered their variants so many times that you could recall the little things that made each them unique--like how Pinkie had four pupils, how Blitz was missing pupils in one socket completely, how Froger was..well..a big frog with lots of needle-shaped teeth, and Chainsmoker was a sluggish blobfish through all that smoke.

Making eye contact with Pandemonium was a death sentence..as you've already learned after trying (and failing) to safely observe him through a glass window. So you draw him as you see him in his file.

The Squiddles' "intimidating" faces were scary in the dark when you least expected them, but they served as amazing inspiration. You even had a page full of what faces you'd think they make up to frighten others. It's too bad you couldn't show them, however, as that required you getting in their personal space.

Eyefestation, Good People, and the Wall Dwellers were quite..risky to observe, as they had ways of quickly and painfully sending you back to square one if you weren't careful. Even so, you made some pretty damn good sketches..and you wish you could show them off to them, too, especially to the shark who'd probably appreciate a human's drawing of herself.

Even the DiVine, who were always frozen in poses for some reason, joined your ever-growing list of muses. The oxygen gardens were a nice place for you to rest and appreciate the flora for a few moments--before an Angler came along, of course.

Then there was Sebastian.

While he was fully aware of your artistic passions, in the beginning he seemed a bit annoyed whenever you came into his shop just to sketch.....or if you took an unusually long time to reach him. He just assumes you've stopped to "doodle" and wonders if you really care about getting out of this place alive.

He'd remind you that HQ could get suspicious if you're off their radar for too long, but you've stayed in his shop for 10-20 minutes at a time and not once did your diving gear beep. So you reassured him not to fret.

It was kinda sweet that he worried over you, an expendable, although maybe that's because you actually treat him with decency..and don't take his snarky comments to heart whenever you died.

Aside from the occasional eyeroll whenever you brought out your sketchbook, he did inquire about some of the things you've drawn, and you'd show him, bearing a little pride in your work.

All you'd get in response was a "neato" or "wowie, that's how you see them?" and nothing more.

It wasn't insulting, so...you'll take that.

Obviously he was more concerned about how much research data you were willing to fork over in exchange for supplies, and how far that equipment will carry you before your next demise. So you'd eventually close the book and barter with him for whatever wares were on his tail.

Unbeknownst to him, you've actually started sketching him as of late. Now that you've met him dozens of times, it was easy for you to recall his features without needing to stare at him for reference every five seconds.

That would not only be rude, but very creepy.

Then one day, you showed up to Sebastian's shop with enough data to be able to afford his document, which described him as Z-13, "The Saboteur" who the company wanted "dead on sight" if he was spotted or trying to escape.

When you had time to read the file on your own, you learned some..pretty shocking things about how he caused the lockdown, went through torturous experiments, and was falsely accused of nine murders and was proven innocent far too late.

The most upsetting part was that he was never informed of this.

He learned that after presumably stealing his own document.

It made you feel sick to your stomach, knowing he's the reason you're being terrorized by those beasts, but you couldn't find it in your heart to be angry at him.

If anything you were angry at Urbanshade for their "guilty until proven innocent" system--or in his case, being proven innocent didn't matter.

His human mugshot was also included in the file, and even with the black censor bar covering his eyes, he still looked like quite a handsome fellow. You could make out some details, and ended up drawing him on a separate page, too, although part of you wishes you never started.

You doubt he would kill you or rip apart your book for drawing him, but considering how volatile and rude he could be at a moment's notice..you did your best to conceal the sketches when you visited his shop.

You didn't want him to be offended or reminded of his past..and make him resent the one person who he almost considered a genuine friend.

Unfortunately, you'd soon come to realize that your actions were only heightening his suspicions.

And that it was going to come to a head next time you entered his shop.

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

"Okay, I'm going to bite...what're you really hiding in that little book?"

"Pardon?" Pausing mid-sketch, you looked up at Sebastian, wondering why he appeared so disgruntled. "I'm..uh...just doodling like I always-"

"No, don't give me that "like always" crap." He huffed, flicking the end of his tail as he crossed his two arms over his chest, staring down at you. "Last time, you couldn't stop showing me a stupid face you'd think one of those S-Qs would make...and now you won't even let me have a sneak peak of your next "masterpiece"." He spat the last word, voice dripping with disdain. "Are you really drawing something...or are you secretly writing intel to give to Urbanshade?"

"...wha.." You blinked in disbelief, wondering where he'd get that assumption from. "Why would I ever do that?"

"Oh I dunno, maaaybe because you have access to my file and know my location? I bet you're gonna sell me out to those scumbags once you reach the crystal." He gnashed his teeth. "Did they say you'd get extra cash for leaving tips on my whereabouts, huh?"

"Sebastian, there's no reason for this hostility. I'm not giving any intel to anyone-"

"Then you wouldn't mind me taking a look at this, would you? Yyyyyyoink!" His third arm was quick to snatch your sketchbook away, holding it out of your reach as you jumped up in panic.

You were already dreading his reaction.

This could very well be the end for you.

"Please give that back! You'll tear it!"

"You look frightened. So maybe I should, considering you're writing secrets about.....about...." But as Sebastian finally looked at the page, all he saw were sketches of his current self, and you began to see a shift in his expression.

It went from pure anger, to surprise and confusion, and then to....something unreadable.

"These are...all of me?" His voice became quieter as he flipped the page, only for his breath to hitch upon finding the drawings of his human form.

And for once, he was completely speechless.

The details were immaculate, everything from his hair style to the scar he used to have across his face--given to him from an angry cellmate who thought he really did kill those people and tried giving him a "taste of his own medicine".

But the way you made him look was...incredible.

That's him.

That's really him.

The man--the human--he was before...

Before...

"Yes." Your face was burning with embarrassment, and your heart was pounding with fear of both death and ridicule, now knowing that your fate laid in his hands now. "I-I'm sorry. I should've asked for your permission and I know the details aren't perfect but you didn't let me........huh?"

Ceasing your ramblings, you noticed the tears welling in his eyes, and you were stunned. Then his shaking hands closed the sketchbook and returned it to you. "Um..are you okay? I'm really sorry if-"

"I...a-almost forgot what I looked like before all of this.." He raised a claw to wipe at his watery eyes, sniffling. "They're...good drawings, friend. I'm sorry..I...I-I didn't mean to..." His voice cracked, and he forced himself to stop, bringing his hands to his face. "Why am I crying over something like..t-this..?"

He hated looking so weak in front of you, yet he couldn't help the tears that kept slipping down his cheeks. A certain sadness was weighing heavily on his heart, yet at the same time he felt...honored that you wanted to draw him, putting your heart and soul into every sketch--with him getting the most effort.

You didn't overexaggerate him as the hideous beast he and everyone else was convinced he was, but just him as, well, himself. His smiles when he realizes it's you coming through the vent again, his cheeky grins when you buy up all his supplies, and even the one time he pouted when you died to Pandemonium because you risked it all trying to draw the moldy fish-creature.

The human ones, as you could tell from the way he broke down, especially hit home for him. Just from a mugshot alone, you were able to create a near-accurate depiction of him.

It made him wonder if you two have met before any of this happened.

Sebastian sniffled, struggling to stop the tears and expecting you to make fun of him as he finally uncovered his face. But instead he saw you standing there with your arms opened up. "I feel like you could use one of these. It's okay. I know you miss being human."

".........."

"C'mon, big guy. My arms are kinda hurting--oh!"

Without warning, he accepted your embrace and squeezed you tightly in his hold. Of course he was careful not to crush your diving tanks, and you smiled in appreciation and patted his back. "It's okay, it's alright..I got you. I didn't mean to make you cry."

He sniffled a few times, but otherwise said nothing and tried making sure you weren't supporting all of his upper body weight.

Curse his size. He wishes he could experience a normal hug again.

This one will do, though.

"I-It's...it's fine. Don't worry.." He finally spoke after a few moments, calming down. "As long as you don't tell anyone about this."

"I'll take it to my grave." You chuckled, letting go and stepping away so he could straighten his back out. While he did that, you gently tore a few pages from your book, to which he blinked in confusion.

"What are you doing with-?"

"Keep them." You insisted. "In case this sketchbook falls into a pit or gets waterlogged, I want you to hold onto these. Besides, I can tell you appreciate them a lot. So...consider it a gift."

"Why..thank you." A smile appeared on his face as he took the pages carefully. "Rest assured, they'll be safe and sound." He gazed at them both one more time, feeling a tug on his heart.

But it wasn't as heavy as before.

After neatly folding and stowing them away into his pockets, he saw you already sitting in one of the chairs, your sketchbook opened to a brand new blank page.

"Sooooooo what are you going to draw this time?" He tilted his head, ear fins twitching with curiosity.

"Hm...I did see a vision of a white glowing man a few rooms back. I think he was from...the Mindscape? There was a file talking about him and some floating gears and a white ball."

"Ohh yeah, he's an interesting guy. I'd love to see your interpretation of him." Now Sebastian was 100% invested, as he curled his tail around himself, resting his upper body on it so he could see your book better. "But y'know you won't be able to leave this place with sketches of-"

"I'm well aware of that...I could always change a few things and turn them into OCs."

"Hah. You should."

"Maybe I will." You snickered, grateful that you didn't have anything to fear.

At least somebody in the Blacksite appreciated your art.

[lees-chaotic-brain]

The first years become one year old babies due to a curse and Gojo and his wife have to take care of them

WC: 1.5k

CW: female reader (reader referred to as wife), slight jjk spoilers (dad gojo), swearing, not beta read

Note: here you go @sitarawrites!! hope you enjoy! sorry this took so long...

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When your husband walked through the door holding a takeout bag filled with your favorite spicy food you knew he had fucked up. That man wouldn’t touch anything even remotely spicy with a ten foot pole, so it always made you a little nervous when he bought it and brought it home for dinner.

“Toru.” You plant your  hands on your hips and level him with a firm look. “You’re not fooling me. Just get it over with.”

He batted his eyes innocently. “Why, whatever are you talking about? I haven’t even done  anything. I just got home.”

“Uh huh. Then what’s that about?” You point an accusatory finger at the takeout. “You only buy dinner from that restaurant if you’re trying to bribe me into not being mad. Seriously. I’ve been married to you for over two years now. Your cheap tricks don’t work on me anymore. Just tell me what you did.”

“Aw, can’t a dutiful husband just buy his lovely wife her favorite food every now and again?”  He finishes removing his shoes and steps fully inside, leaving the front door open behind him.

“Gojo Satoru.” 

You’re clearly not amused, and definitely not buying it. At the sound of his full name he gulps and shoots you a nervous glance, his blue eyes wide.

“I’m telling you I-”

“Spit. It. Out. Now.”

Your lethal tone cuts off his pathetic last ditch attempt at denial, and he visibly shrinks into himself.

“Fine. You got me.” He lets out a high-pitched giggle. “I just want to preface this by saying I took them straight to Shoko and she said they would be completely fine and back to normal by tomorrow.”

“Okay…?”  You already didn’t like where this was going, nervous anticipation settling deep in your gut. Nothing had better happened to the three first years. You loved those kids like they were your own. “Continue.”

He takes a deep breath.

“BasicallyIkindofaccidentallygotthefirstyearsturnedintobabiesandYagawillhavemyassifhefindsoutsoIbroughtthemhere.”

His outburst winds him, and he wheezes, leaning against the door with a hand on his chest.

“What? Satoru I…” You trail off, staring at the small head that poked into your house through the open front door. A very familiar head of orangish-brown hair. Not moving a muscle, you blink at the toddler that toddles into your house. The toddler that looked eerily familiar.

“Gojo Satoru.” You speak, not taking your eyes off the small child. “That better not be my Nobara.”

“Well, erm, the thing is…one moment.” He steps back into his shoes and darts out of the house. As he fled, the tiny human approached you, clearly recognizing who you were. Deciding to let him be for the time being, you crouch down so you’re eye level with Maybe-Baby Nobara.

“Hey sweetie.” You boop her nose, eliciting a loud squeal. “Are you Nobara?”

The baby babbles excitedly and claps her meaty hands when you say her name, confirming your suspicions. Before you can process your realization, a shrill scream that you recognize as your husband pierces the air. Scooping the lively child up and into your arms, you hurry out the front door to investigate.

Upon stepping outside, the first thing you notice is a baby sitting in your front yard shoveling handfuls of grass and dirt into his face. The second thing you notice is that the baby is unmistakably Yuuji. Putting your husband's screams on the back burner for the time being, you dart forward to deal with him.

“No! Don’t eat that!” You gently pry the dirt from his chubby fists, unable to stop yourself from giggling when he gurgles at you happily with a muddy grin. Unfortunately, the renewed sound of your husband’s scream ruined the cute moment as you were forced to deal with your overgrown man child.

You grabbed Yuuji, propping him on your other him before standing and renewing your search for Satoru. It didn’t take long to find him, as he came hurtling around a corner, one of Megumi’s divine dogs hot on his trail. Confused, and enjoying his panic a little bit too much, you peered around the corner and spotted the last first year on the back of his other shikigami. Ah. That’s where the divine dog chasing you not-so-beloved husband came from. 

Trusting Megumi to make his own inside (plus he had grown up in this house and you knew his divine dogs wouldn’t let anything happen to him), you turn head in the direction you saw your husband sprint.

You wanted answers.

The five of you sat in your living room after you had convinced Megumi to call his shikigami back and wrangled your husband out of the tree he had taken refuge in. Now Satoru sat in an armchair while you sat on the sofa in front of him, Megumi snuggled in your right arm, Nobara in your left, and Yuji on your lap.

“So. Here’s how this is going to go. You are going to start from the beginning, and tell me EVERYTHING. You’re not going to leave out any little details that might get you in trouble. You’re going to give me the whole story.”

Nodding sheepishly, your husband explained that he had taken them to a curse site and waited outside while the three first years completed the mission that was supposed to be his. When fifteen minutes had passed, and they still hadn’t returned he went to check on them and found them in their current state. Panicking, he had taken care of the curse and rushed them to Shoko who examined them and told him they would be fine by tomorrow.

“-So I brought them here for the night.” He finished his story, and shot you a pleading glance. “I’m begging you. Yaga will get me in so much trouble if he finds out. It’s just one night. We can take care of them.”

You scoff. “Please. I was there all throughout high school. The worst you’ll get is a scolding, which frankly, you deserve. So bring the poor kids to Yaga who is more qualified to look after them than the both of us combined.”

“Please? For me, the love of your life?” Desperation glimmered in the depths of his vibrant blue eyes.

You shook your head firmly. “There’s no way. We’re not equipped to take care of three tiny humans, even if it is just for one night.”

“Please babe?” He gave you his best attempt at puppy dog eyes. “We raised Megumi and Tsumiki just fine! We got this.”

You opened your mouth to respond, fully prepared to continue ignoring your husbands please when you were distracted by Megumi shifting in your arms.

“Mama…” He nuzzled sleepily into your neck with a soft mutter. Feeling your heart melt, you planted a kiss in his messy black hair and readjusted your grip so you could cuddle him better.

“I’m here baby. I got you.”

Stirring at the sound of your voice, Nobara gazed up at you from your other arm, clearly jealous of the attention Megumi was receiving. Wrapping her chubby arms around your neck and clinging tight, she made a face at Megumi. Thankfully he ignored it and peace was maintained.

Catching the way your eyes softened, your husband saw his chance and swooped in to take it. “Aw, see how much they like you? Imagine how sad and confused they would be if you left them with someone they don’t know that well? Plus I know you think  they’re cute. Come on. It’s not like it’s forever. Don’t you want one night to cuddle with them to your heart's content?”

Glancing down at the two babies snuggled in your arms and the third slobbering around his own fist as he sat on your lap, you couldn’t help  but admit that they were rather cute, and spending a night with them wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.

“Fine.” You concede, ignoring your husband's cheers. “One night. I’ll take care of them one night. If they’re not back to normal by tomorrow, you have to take them to Yaga. Deal?”

Your husband quickly agreed, too relieved to argue. “Yes yes yes, of course. Thank you. Thank you so much. You’re literally the best. I love you more than anything. My wife. The light of my-”

“Shut it.”  You cut him off with a sharp look. “Sweet talking isn’t going to get you out of this. You’re still on thin ice, and don’t think we won’t be talking about this later.”

With a pout your husband acknowledged what you said before leaving you to play with the babies while he went to go buy some baby food.

And despite your griping and idle threats, later when you were snuggled up in bed with the three babies while Satoru slept on the floor, you couldn’t help but be a tad bit grateful for the incident.

[neversetyoufree]

The way Noé Archiviste is written is so good. I'm so obsessed with him.

He's such a protagonist—endlessly hopeful against adversity and filled with kindness and attempted understanding toward everyone he meets. He's a good person! He wants to save everyone! He is genuinely and utterly without any sort of cruelty or unfair bias.

Yet, the more the series goes on, the more he's written as a very obvious parallel to our antagonists.

The most blatant example of this is the Ruthven parallel. Ruthven once happily said that he liked vampires, and in the same way, he liked humans. Noé repeats this exact same line when he has tea with Ruthven.

This parallel doesn't reflect too poorly on Noé, since it's pretty clear that something Happened to Ruthven to change him between his speaking that line and him becoming our antagonist, but it is an interesting way to tie the two of them together. It raises certain questions in readers' minds. In what other ways are Noé and Ruthven still similar, and how might Noé change to become more like him?

Then there's Noé's toxic optimism. The "you should be a little bothered, actually" aspect of him. Noé is the mirror to Vanitas's toxic pessimism. He latches onto the good in the world to a fault, and in this way he detaches from reality and endures an endless series of abuses to his person without even understanding they're abuses.

That is also one of the defining traits of Mikhail. Misha is unsettling in part because he is completely detached from any understanding of severity. Misha happily recounts being abused and watching his mother die not because he's cruel or hateful, but because he doesn't understand what's happened to him or why those things are bad. Misha wants to bring Luna back to life because he's in denial of the reality of their death. He believes he can just resurrect them and everything will be fine, and he'll get to play happy family again.

If Noé went just a little bit more extreme with the over-optimism, he could disconnect from reality just as badly as Misha has.

Finally there's my favorite parallel—the tie between Noé and his Teacher. Noé Archiviste has a tendency to watch others in fascination, trying to figure them out from the sidelines while he fails to understand his own impact on them, and he absolutely loves the Blue Moon. He thinks the Blue Moon is beautiful. Teacher spends his time collecting interestingly damaged children in putting them in awful situations, apparently just for the fun of watching what they'll do next, and he calls The Vampire of the Blue Moon "the most beautiful creature in the world."

Noé's curiosity-driven fascination with Vanitas's trauma and his love of the blue moon—neither of these are necessarily a problem on their own, but when written in direct parallel with The Count of Saint Germain, they become somewhat alarming.

In the same way that Misha is "worse" than Noé because his obliviousness to his trauma leads him to harm others, Noé's teacher is surely a worse person than him because he lets himself harm others in pursuit of his interests. Noé doesn't do that. But what would it take for that to change? He's pushed boundaries before. He learned to hurt Astolfo and Misha in the name of protecting those he cares about. What other strange places could his headstrong nature lead?

What might Noé do when his fascination and his obliviousness intersect? When the parts of him that are Teacher and the parts of him that are Misha overlap? What would he do to see Vanitas again? What might he do without letting himself realize how terrible it was?

Noé is a good person. He's one of the best people. But in his attentiveness and his optimism and his love, there's the seeds of something that could lead him down a very dark road. Each of the above antagonists is a little bit a part of who he is.

Misha wants to bring Luna back to life. Ruthven is working toward some mysterious aim with the dead or dying Faustina. And given how he talks in mémoire 55, I wouldn't be surprised if Teacher also had an interest in bringing back The Vampire of the Blue moon in one form or another.

In all his fascination and love and hope, would/will Noé be able to let Vanitas die when death is preferable to the alternative? This is a story about the inevitability of death, and the denial of that inevitability creates nothing but horror and perversion. Noé is growing and learning to understand both Vanitas and the moral complexities of the world, and we can only hope that he learns enough. We can see through his many reflections in other characters what he might become if he can't accept painful reality.

[schoenpepper]

Isekai'd Chronicles 7

Intro: Diasomnia in an isekai AU.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, proofread by quillbot, ankle injury in Silver's part, Malleus being a cutie, also Silver's a fae

A/N: Diasomnia isn't my favorite dorm in the whole entire world, that's for sure. I tried though, but the ooc might be worse than usual. Enjoy.

Masterlist

You've made up with your friends, hurray! In exchange for some space, you fill out your calendar to hang out with them because they don't seem to want to do it as a group. Tonight, you've decided to take a stroll into the woods near the human dormitory to clear your mind. Things have just been far too hectic lately, and you don't really understand why the capture targets seem a bit overly fond of you, if not possessive. There seem to be fireflies in the distance, and you chase after it subconsciously, your feet leading you deeper into the forest. The lights coalesce into an intimidating figure with horns and one of the most beautiful faces you've ever seen. Malleus Draconia, right, the fae prince likes to walk around randomly in the middle of the night.

For all you've done to try and avoid the male leads, you sure haven't done a very good job.

He greets you and calls you 'Child of Man'. When you take a step back, you see a flash of hurt on his face, and it makes you take a few more steps forward to give him a rather shaky greeting back. You've promised yourself not to get closer to the love interests more than you already have, but he's rather pitiful like this, isn't he? You lend him an ear and talk quietly in the woods with him, and you think maybe it's time to give up your 'avoid the male leads to avoid the bad endings' thing, since it very clearly does not work. Malleus is rather eloquent, so conversation comes easily even though he starts talking about gargoyles. You don't mind gargoyles, and you've gotten really good at dealing with infodumps because of Jade, so you let him rant his endless amount of gargoyle knowledge while occasionally chipping in your own thoughts. And before you know it, it's somehow become a nightly thing, and he's teleporting you both to all sorts of random places so he can talk about ancient architecture. You find his infodumping to be rather relaxing, actually, as are your nightly walks, so you're not too against it. You even manage to rant to him about your own hyperfixations.

He's a very good listener and a very good friend, and at this point, you don't care about that stupid otome game anymore. No, seriously, it's almost been a full year and those main characters that are supposed to be flirting left and right aren't anywhere in sight.

One more male lead that's not going to kill you, yay! Though at this point, there's only one love interest left. Maybe, if you're real lucky, you won't meet him.

"Child of Man?"

You're a little nervous when you hand over the ticket for the culture festival. Sure he probably has a seat in the VIP section but, you hoped the ones you have are good enough for him. "Uh, Tsunotarou, you can use this to get a seat in that play I'm on. I know they're not the best seats in the house, but they're the show's family tickets, and I'd really rather not have my family see me like that." He looks expressionlessly at the ticket in his hands.

"I don't think any of my friends are too interested in the tickets, and you said you're upset you're never invited so—" You cut off your rambling with a defeated sigh. Maybe you're not as close to him as you'd thought.

"Thank you, Child of Man." At least, until he gives you the sweetest smile you've ever seen as he clutches the ticket close to his heart. "For inviting me."

Of course you're not lucky. If you were lucky, you wouldn't have gotten reincarnated into this game. You walk into the garden to try to find that pesky ingredient you were missing for Crewel's class, and you stumble right onto the last target. Literally.

You trip over Silver Vanrouge and fall very ungracefully to the ground, wincing in pain before the pretty man holds out a hand to you. You take his offer and stand up, and congratulate yourself for successfully managing to sprain an ankle. He's apologizing and offering to carry you to the infirmary which you initially decline. If any of your very clingy friends see you in the arms of Malleus' knight, they'll have very different reactions, but you just know none of them will be good! Still, you don't have much of a choice when you try to walk to prove to him that you can, and fall right back to the ground.

He's kind enough to lend you his shoulder once you explain about your friends, and you hop over to the infirmary while cracking stupid jokes that makes a pretty smile crop up on his pretty face. Why is this school just so chock full of pretty boys? He spends the better part of a week helping you because he insists that the injury is his fault. Though you try to tell him that he was just sleeping and had nothing to do with your own stupidity, he claps back with a 'I shouldn't have been sleeping in the gardens anyway', and you just can't argue with that. He's really good with a knife as he cuts you up some fruit that he bought for you, and you do your homework with him as company. Your first year friends gave you very unamused looks when you tried to ask them to help keep your senpais out of your room for fear of what they'd do when they found out you were injured, but they do it begrudgingly once you promise to make some treats for them once your ankle got all better. Even as your injury's all healed up, Silver doesn't seem too keen on leaving you be, and eventually, he's another friend to you.

Aren't you happy? Now all the capture targets are very unlikely to kill you.

The air is quiet, which isn't too unusual when you're with Silver. What is unusual, is the low, slightly sad mood he seems to be in. He looks at you when he asks a question. "Do you think that...humans and fae can be together?"

You shrug. This world's a romance video game after all, who are you to judge people's racial preferences?

"I think it doesn't matter who you want to be with. Especially when your lifespans are uneven. You already have such a short amount of time to be together, so you might as well make the most of it." You comment offhandedly. He doesn't respond, and when you look in his direction, he has an expression of shock and realization on his face.

"Right. What matters should be that they make the most of it..." He repeats in a soft whisper. "Love is a little less complicated than I thought it would be." 

[once-in-a-blood-moon]

solomon couldn't stand your pact marks.

well, no, that wasn't the right way to put it. he was proud, even jealous of your pacts. they were one of the many admirable things about you! he just hated... looking at them. he knew what other people thought when they saw them.

when one would see those marks on your skin for the first time, they would be able to get a glimpse at your relationship with the brothers. one of trust and respect, gathered from just a glance. meanwhile, one would have to be told about his and your relationship. one look at you couldn't decipher all the time you two have shared together, filled with chatting between classes, practicing magic for hours, and endless love.

at first, solomon tried to mitigate this with his own marks upon your skin. wearing lipstick as he placed a kiss on your neck, a few stray bite marks from your time together at night. but those, while fun, were temporary. and solomon needed something permanent.

why not a ring?

(Hope you don't mind me adding on, anon. Thank you for the delicious meal! Literally so honored to read your beautiful work! 🥹)

Getting the ring was the easy part. Getting you away from the brothers long enough to propose...was not.

The lengths Solomon went through to be able to have a private moment with you might put him in a record book as the three realms' most whipped man. With the mask of his "shady" persona secured, he lets his silver tongue weave him through these seven obstacles, the sin of each dripping from it with only you on his mind.

Swallowing his pride, breathing in greed, spitting out envy...his wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth. A vicious rinse, repeat until he's either buttered them up or grated them down until they finally gave in. But he did it. With the day cleared of any interruptions, his plans were set in motion.

He decides to have a redo of your very first date, flying you up and walking in the sky amongst the stars. It's just the two of you against the ever inky black sky of the Devildom, a place that has become synonymous with your presence. Only this time, there are no surprise gales, no surprise drones -- just the surprise of a velvet heart-shaped box in the inside pocket of his coat.

Solomon brings up fond memories of your time together as you both near the spot he's picked to pop the question. He's filled with a giddy glee that soon you'll have something that binds you to him, something to show the world you're his.

Still, there's a little voice in the back of his head reminding him that you could say no. That perhaps he's not worthy. Does he deserve to have matching rings adorned on his and your fingers forevermore? Does he dare stand by your side as your equal when you are, in fact, so far above him?

He decides it's best not to dwell on such thoughts as this is meant to be a happy occasion, as long as all goes well.

Your feet touch the ground once he lowers you both on top of a cliff that overlooks the Devildom, the moon hanging brightly above. As you take in the magnificent sight, he lowers himself on one knee behind you, waiting with bated breath for you to turn on your own volition.

The moment you do, he knows he'll have to keep this memory stored away with his magic, just staring in awe. The moon is angled just right that it shines right behind your head like a halo. Your eyes are as wide as saucers while your jaw is slacked. With the way you look, he truly wonders if he's in the Celestial Realm.

Nervously, Solomon begins his improvised speech after clearing his throat, "my dearest apprentice, it is with great honor that I'm knelt before you tonight. I have dreamt of this moment more than I'd care to admit, yet I never thought it'd come true. But here I am, willing to give you all of me, if you're willing to give me all of you. You are the sun to my moon, the air in my lungs, the very reason why I believe I've lived so long. I was always meant to find you and work side by side to protect the human realm together. And most importantly, to love you. So, please do this old sorcerer a favor...by marrying me..."

He pulls out the ring box, opening it to offer you the ring within. The blessed box is shaking as he trembles, waiting patiently for your answer.

Happy tears spring from his eyes once you say, "yes." The ring is carefully slipped onto your finger, and a single word comes to Solomon's mind.

Mine.

[natsgrave]

WHISPERS OF HEARTACHE | angstober

╰┈➤ synopsis: one day whether you are, 14, 28, or 65, you will stumble upon someone who will start a fire in you that cannot die. however, the saddest, most awful truth you will ever come to find is they are not always with whom we spend our lives.

╰┈➤ welcome and short message: hello, my sweet gravels! i am thrilled to welcome you to "whispers of heartache," a collection of angst-filled one shots centered around the compelling characters of natasha romanoff / scarlett johansson, wanda maximoff / elizabeth olsen, and a female reader. this book is a labor of love, crafted from my deep admiration for these characters and my passion for storytelling. in this book, you will find a series of emotionally charged stories that delve into the complexities of love, loss, and heartache. each one shot will be written in the third person point of view, offering a broad perspective on the intense and often tumultuous emotions experienced by the characters. i must share that english is not my first language. therefore, you may encounter some grammatical errors or awkward phrasing throughout the stories. i appreciate your understanding and patience as i strive to improve my writing skills. my goal is to convey the depth of emotions and the intricate dynamics between the characters, even if my language skills are still a work in progress. angst has a unique power to connect with readers on a deep, emotional level. it explores the raw, often painful aspects of human relationships and personal struggles. through these stories, i hope to capture the essence of what it means to love and to lose, to fight and to surrender. each tale is crafted to evoke empathy and reflection, inviting you to experience the characters' journeys as if they were your own. your reblogs and feedback is incredibly valuable to me. as i embark on this storytelling journey, i welcome your thoughts, suggestions, and constructive criticism. please feel free to leave comments and reviews. your input will not only help me grow as a writer but also ensure that the stories resonate with you, the readers. thank you for joining me in this exploration of the whispers of heartache. i hope that these one shots will touch your heart and leave a lasting impression. happy reading! warm regards, G.J ps: i will be adding the first few angst that i already wrote in this masterlist even though it's technically not part of this masterlist. but, it's angst, so...

╰┈➤ tolerate it

while you were out building other worlds, where was i? you assume i'm fine, but what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins? ── .✦ pairing: elizabeth olsen x gf!reader

╰┈➤ new year's day

i want your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year's day. please, don't ever become a stranger whose laugh i could recognize anywhere. ── .✦ pairing: sister's bsf!elizabeth x fem!reader

╰┈➤ midnight rain

she was sunshine, i was midnight rain. she wanted a bride, i was making my own name, chasing that fame. ── .✦ pairing: actress!elizabeth x fem!reader

╰┈➤ you're losing me

how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'? do i throw out everything we built or keep it? and you know what they all say, you don't know what you got until it's gone. ── .✦ pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

╰┈➤ in the next lifetime

but in those photos, i saw us instead and, somehow, i know that you and i would've found each other in another life. you still would've turned my head even if we'd met. you're always gonna be mine, we're gonna be timeless. ── .✦ pairing: general's son!steve x general's daughter!reader, maid!natasha x general's daughter!reader, scarlett johansson x fem!reader

╰┈➤ the manuscript

the only thing that's left is the manuscript. one last souvenir from my trip to your shores. now and then i reread the manuscript but the story isn't mine anymore. ── .✦ pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

╰┈➤ the smallest woman who ever lived

and i don't miss what we had, but could someone give a message to the smallest man who ever lived? ── .✦ pairing: avenger!natasha x ex hydra!reader

╰┈➤ favorite crime

i hope i was your favorite crime, 'cause baby, you were mine. ── .✦ pairing: bsf!wanda x fem!reader

╰┈➤ mean it

on your lips just leave it, if you don't mean it. ── .✦ pairing: scarlett johansson x gf!reader

╰┈➤ love me nicely

i know you love me, but could you love me nicely? ── .✦ pairing: toxic!elizabeth x gf!reader

╰┈➤ if the world was ending

i know, you know, we know, you weren't down for forever and it's fine. i know, you know, we know, we weren't meant for each other and it's fine. but if the world was ending you'd come over, right? ── .✦ pairing: avenger!wanda x fem!reader

╰┈➤ soulmate

what a shame, didn't want to be the one that got away. taking down the pictures and the plans we made. big mistake, you broke the sweetest promise that you never should have made. ── .✦ pairing: fiance!elizabeth x fem!reader

╰┈➤ greatest what if

someday when you leave me, i bet these memories follow you around. ── .✦ pairing: actress!elizabeth x fem!reader

╰┈➤ heart

i knew it from the first old fashioned, we were cursed. should've known i'd be the first to leave think about the place where you first met me. ── .✦ pairing: elizabeth olsen x crush!reader

╰┈➤ too late

words— how little they mean when you're a little too late. ── .✦ pairing: avenger!natasha x avenger!steve, husband!bucky x avenger!reader

╰┈➤ i miss you

now, i fear i have fallen from grace and i feel like my castle's crumbling down. ── .✦ pairing: actress!scarlett x actress!reader

╰┈➤ wedding

sometimes giving up is the strong thing, sometimes to run is the brave thing, sometimes walking out is the one thing, that will find you the right thing. the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul, you know when it's time to go. ── .✦ pairing: elizabeth olsen x event planner!reader

╰┈➤ last memory

if i didn't know better, i'd think you were talking to me now. if i didn't know better, i'd think you were still around. what died didn't stay dead, you're alive, so alive, in my head. ── .✦ pairing: agent!elizabeth x agent!reader

╰┈➤ thank you

why'd you have to lead me on? why'd you have to twist the knife? walk away and leave me bleedin'. ── .✦ pairing: scarlett johansson x fem!reader

╰┈➤ we both had our chance

i persist and resist the temptation to ask you if one thing had been different, would everything be different today? ── .✦ pairing: avenger!natasha x avenger!reader

╰┈➤ i hate you

remembering her comes in flashbacks and echoes, tell myself it's time now gotta let go. but moving on from her is impossible, when i still see it all in my head, in burning red. ── .✦ pairing: shitty!scarlett x annoying!reader

╰┈➤ on bended knee

can we go back to the days our love was strong? can you tell me how a perfect love goes wrong? can somebody tell me how to get things back the way they use to be? oh god give me a reason, i'm down on bended knee. ── .✦ pairing: actress!elizabeth x actress!reader

╰┈➤ the cut that always bleeds

oh, i could be anything you need, as long as you don't leave. the cut that always bleeds. ── .✦ pairing: scarlett x gf!reader

╰┈➤ backburner

i'll always be in your corner, 'cause i don't feel alive 'til i'm burnin' on your backburner. ── .✦ pairing: agent!natasha x agent!reader

╰┈➤ the great war

we can plant a memory garden, say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair. there's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair and we will never go back. ── .✦ pairing: actress!elizabeth x gf!reader

╰┈➤ enough for you

and maybe i'm just not as interesting as the girls you had before but god, you couldn't have cared less about someone who loved you more. 'cause all i ever wanted was to be enough for you and all i ever wanted was to be enough for you. ── .✦ pairing: agent!natasha x insecure!reader

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ to be written:

╰┈➤ 1 step forward, 3 steps back

do you love me, want me, hate me? boy, i don't understand. no, i don't understand.

╰┈➤ better woman

i know the bravest thing i ever did was run.

╰┈➤ strange

isn't it strange how people can change. from strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again?

╰┈➤ lose you to love me

we'd always go into it blindly, i needed to lose you to find me. this dancing was killing me softly, i needed to hate you to love me.

╰┈➤ almost is never enough

almost is never enough, so close to being in love. if i would have known that you wanted me, the way i wanted you then maybe we wouldn't be two worlds apart, but right here in each other's arms.

╰┈➤ wish you were sober

kiss me in the seat of your rover, real sweet, but i wish you were sober.

╰┈➤ same ground

because i have learned that love is beyond what human can imagine, the more it clears, the more i have to let you go.

╰┈➤ the way i loved you

but i miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain and it's 2 a.m. and i'm cursing your name. so in love that you act insane and that's the way i loved you.

╰┈➤ champagne problems

your mom's ring in your pocket, her picture in your wallet, you won't remember all my champagne problems.

╰┈➤ last kiss

you told me you loved me, so why did you go away?

╰┈➤ maroon

the burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me and how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was. the mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones, the lips i used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon.

╰┈➤ loml

you said i'm the love of your life about a million times.

╰┈➤ consequences

loving you was sunshine, safe and sound, a steady place to let down my defenses but loving you had consequences.

╰┈➤ casual

i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn't lose.

╰┈➤ illicit affairs

they show their truth one single time but they lie, and they lie, and they lie a million little times.

╰┈➤ forever and always

oh back up, baby, back up, did you forget everything? back up, baby, back up, did you forget everything?

[thessalian]

Sometimes I think Tumblr shows some of the best of humanity. Not everywhere, obviously - there are always assholes - but ... I mean, come on. Our daily lives demand that we be ... flat. Incurious, unmoved by anything but the need to survive. To those who run the world, we're cogs in a machine and the only time we should appreciate anything that isn't "I have a job so I won't starve this month" is when they want to sell us something, and we should appreciate that without question. It's the worst bits of Brave New World and the worst bits of 1984, all in one.

But here? Here we tell each other stories. We create art just because. We watch the wonders of the natural world through digital windows, and we are awed and fascinated and our brains are alive for a minute. The adorable, the desirable, the awe-inspiring, the sexy - they're what we decide they are, not what someone wants to sell us.

We teach each other. We entertain each other. We inspire each other. We cheer each other on. We remind people all over the world to take their meds, to hydrate, to hang in there because there is beauty in the world. We live in a world where there are adorable little octopi and baby horseshoe crabs and little frogs that sleep in flowers. We live in a world where someone in another country wants to teach us how to crochet, or cook, or do home improvement stuff. We have experts - qualified or not - in every field, willing to teach us what school systems won't.

Yeah, of course there are assholes. Unfortunately, there always are. But I read through your posts, all of you, and I see a world that doesn't just want me to work until I die. I see a world that wants me to live, and most of all to enjoy living. I honestly hope the weird and funny and beautiful things I fill my own queue with help you all do the same. Everyone deserves to remember that the world is more than work-eat-sleep.

So thank you for the beautiful art, and the awesome writing, and the flowers, and the "It's Gonna Be Okay" posts, and all the trivia (even the kangaroo penis thing). Thanks for reminding me how much bigger the world is than some people want us to realise.

[faulty-writes]

Can I request a “Mr. Villain’s day off” fic..

The General x Human fem reader, who makes and sells stuffed animals in a little shop near the Zoo..

And maybe The General grew suspicious of her when he Sees “Red Ranger” practically abused her on her walk home one night, asking Reader to join the Rangers, because her family has a reputation for incredible combat skills.. and her flatly refusing, Reader even saying in a calm no shits given voice, and with a completely unbothered smile on her face.

“Well most humans are Asswholes anyway, we’ve been destroying our own planet for generations.. why is it so bad if the Evil League takes over the Earth?? They’d clearly treat the planet better than we have… I won’t fight for humanity, it’s shity.”

And then she just casually walks home..

Our lovable Mr. Villain is very interested curious about the Cute strange human woman..

So he goes to the shop she works at the next day to learn more about her.. and she’s in the middle of making the biggest.. Fluffiest.. CUTEST… stuffed Panda teddy-bear.. he’s ever seen… in that moment… he’s an absolute goner.

He’s smitten, lovestruck, infatuated.. She looks like an angel to him…. Also, he will make sure nobody but him will buy that huge stuffed Panda.. made by the loving hands of his “soon to be” beloved..

[ This is awesome, my first Mr. Villain request featuring the main man himself. Please let me know how I did, I tried to make the story interesting. I used the name "Warumono-san" because that's what I've seen other posts do. Not sure if that's correct or not. Regardless this was about 12 pages in Word, so I hope you enjoy it! As stated in the request this is a FEMALE READER INSERT. ]

You sighed before clenching your jaw and curling your hands into fists, practically feeling the steam seeping from your nostrils. This was getting old, and you were sick of Red Ranger constantly bothering you with his useless nonsense. “Aw, come on!” He whined.

“Will you shut up!?” You snapped, baring your teeth like a cornered animal. How could one human being be this damn annoying? How could he not take the thousands of hints you’ve given him!? No matter what you said or did to him, he only continued to pester.

Warumono-san smiled and looked at the plastic bag in his hand, the contents of which contained the goods he just purchased from the convenience store. Oh yes, he was eager to try the newest flavor of ice cream recommended to him by the convenience store worker.

It pained him to think that when he finally conquered Earth in the name of his mother planet and annihilated the Earthlings she would, unfortunately, perish. However, until then, he would enjoy her insights and the warmth her smile brought him whenever he walked past those double doors.

However, he stopped short when he heard yelling and turned to see two individuals standing on the opposite side of the street. His eyes widened when he recognized one of them was Red Ranger and his body tensed up. No doubt an embedded reaction because of his complicated past with the Rangers.

A sense of anger filled him, making his stomach twist. If there was one thing he hated, it was those damn Rangers who attempted to stop him at every turn from accomplishing his goal. ‘Yes…damn you Rangers!’ He frantically thought, ‘You will not stop our efforts to take over Earth!’

He was tempted, oh so tempted, to close his eyes and transform into his supervillain alias. The one with a menacing glare, cold-hearted aura, and dark clothing. ‘But tomorrow is the start of my day off,’ all at once that tension seemed to melt, and his shoulders relaxed.

As of now, it seemed that neither Red Ranger nor you noticed his presence, and so he remained spectating on the sidewalk. There was a slight concern that his ice cream would melt, but he assumed he had a couple of minutes to spare.

Red Ranger frowned, and the usual happy sparkle in his eyes all but faded. “B-but…tch…” pressing his teeth together, he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit frustrated. He didn’t understand! Why wouldn’t you consider being part of the Rangers!?

Your family had an honorable and well-respected reputation for protecting others through perfected combat skills passed on from generation to generation. Yes, maybe you didn’t have the power the Rangers possessed, and couldn’t see the dark aura surrounding the enemy.

But it would be useful to have someone who could teach the Rangers the way of combat. His eyes moistened over causing the faint moonlight to reflect off them and a soft breeze came, ruffling his hair before he stepped forward. ‘I need to convince them to join us, whatever it takes!’ He thought before locking eyes with you.

“Why won’t you join the Rangers!?” He demanded, pressing a hand to his chest. Warumono-san’s eyes widened. ‘He wishes to recruit more Rangers!?’ The present number of Rangers was enough to deal with, how dare he try to recruit more.

‘Damn you again Rangers!’ His shoulders grew tense and his grip tightened around the plastic strap of the bag he held. ‘You and the rest of the Earthlings truly want to die!’ A growl rumbled in his throat, and he was prepared to intervene, even at the cost of allowing his precious after-work treats to melt.

He’d teach that damned Red Ranger and you a lesson. However, he paused when he heard your response, and it was so strange that it caused his lips to part and his mind to be rendered blank. What you said was unlike any response he would expect from an Earthling.

You knew that it may be unconventional and that not many would think or even say such a negative thing about their own species. But it was the truth, and it was a truth you learned the hard way. Through all the pain, suffering, and heartbreak you went through in this so-called, ‘life.’

From being forced to do things you did not wish to do, to feeling as if you had to do certain things out of guilt. It wasn’t fair! But that was the punchline of the joke. Life was not fair, and it didn’t care who it stepped on to get its way, and because of that you and everyone else unlucky enough had to suffer.

Red Ranger knit his eyebrows when he saw a smirk across your face. Placing your hands on your hips, you said, “Humanity is awful,” in a cold tone, “most of us that inhabit this planet are only killing it, and we can’t even show kindness to each other.”

His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, his pupils shaking with disbelief. “H-how can you say that Y/n?!” He demanded, curling his hands into fists. “The people here aren-” he stopped short when you held up your hand. Your eyes narrowed, and he shivered at the hateful glance now directed at him.

“What would be so bad if that Evil League you’re always talking about takes over Earth?” You demanded, taking a step toward him. “W-well, I…that’s-” he tried to come up with a reason, but you continued forward causing him to stumble back.

“They’d treat the planet better than we have. They’d probably even reverse most of the damage humans have caused!” You snapped, stomping your foot against the ground. “Ah!” Red Ranger cried out when you roughly grabbed the collar of his hoodie, forcefully pulling him down to your face.

“So, for the last fucking time,” you growled, tightening your grip. “I won’t fight for humanity. I won’t fight alongside the Rangers. Not for such a shitty planet,” you could hear him audibly swallow before he made the bold choice to wrap his fingers around your wrist.

“Don’t even think about it!” You repositioned your stance, separating your legs, and firmly pressing your feet against the ground. You already had a secure grip on his collar, and while his hand grasping your wrist may be a problem, your skills far outweighed the consequences of whatever he could do.

In one fluid motion, you pivoted and used the momentum to swing him off balance. As expected, he was caught off guard by this and the sensation of his feet lifting off the ground as he was propelled forward and over your shoulder.

Warumono-san watched the spectacle with his jaw dropped, he had never seen an Earthling cause harm to another Earthling using aggressive domination and force. He felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him when Red Ranger hit the ground and let out a painful grunt.

Silence filled the air seconds later before you towered over the man on the ground. “Idiot,” you mumbled walking past him, your steps a little heavier than normal. It was too late to be dealing with such stupidity, you needed to get home and prepare yourself for tomorrow.

After all, you had a business to run, and you couldn’t function without a proper night’s rest. “Heh,” Warumono-san clasped his chin, revealing his pointy teeth in a happy smirk. “I need to know who that Earthling is,” he concluded before his attention shifted back to Red Ranger who grunted again as he sat up.

His face twisted, and his hand rested over his stomach as if he had been punched. “W-wait…” he faintly squeaked out, reaching toward you with his other hand but you only got further and further away. However, because you were such a distance away, his attention was refocused as he suddenly sensed something nearby.

He turned, gasping when he noticed Warumono-san, and immediately panicked. He looked back at you. ‘No, I have to warn Y/n before-’ he went to get on his feet, ready to sprint down the sidewalk after you but Warumono-san cut him off.

Placing his bag of frozen treats down, a black whirlwind surrounded him as he transformed into his villainous persona. His hair now standing on end, and a menacing shadow cast over his face. A large dark cape now draped over his shoulders, weighed down by two claw-like hands.

The cape ran down his back and concealed part of a large black tail. His chest was exposed, and the strange blue-like markings that colored his waist and part of his pecs were visible. The bottom of his outfit remained the same.

He grinned and was quick to move, leaving behind a strong gust of wind that raffled the few trees embedded into the sidewalk. Their leaves rustled violently in response, and some even fell to the ground in the wake of the sudden shock of what occurred.

He grinned, amused by Red Ranger’s shocked expression. That innocence of wishing to protect another shining in his eyes, and yet regret overtook that hope. “Ah!” He cried out when Warumono-san’s hand grasped his throat and the ground underneath his feet disappeared again.

The twisted smirk on the other’s face was something he wouldn’t soon forget, and he desperately grasped onto the hand wrapped around his throat. Warumono-san realized he could have used the provided tail on his cape to render the Ranger useless.

However, there was something much more satisfying about holding the Ranger up with his bare hand. Being able to control his flow of oxygen and hear him choke as he begged for air sent a delightful tingle through his body. Yet, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

“Now Red Ranger…” he grimaced, allowing smoke to seep from his mouth as he pulled the boy closer. “Who was that Earthling?” He demanded, only to receive silence in response. Red Ranger clenched his jaw, opting to glare at Warumono-san instead of answering him.

When he picked up on this hostility, he tightened his hand around the other’s throat, momentarily cutting off his oxygen supply. Red Ranger’s grip on his wrist grew desperate, and despite feeling those nails digging into his flesh, he smirked yet again.

Yes, he enjoyed seeing his enemy struggling for oxygen. “It is clear she is not willing to side with you Rangers.” His eyes widened at Warumono-san’s words, and his jaw clenched, revealing his teeth which remained pressed together.

Was it true? Did you have no interest in protecting the Earth? Did you really want humanity to perish? No…he refused to believe it. He wanted to know what made you think that way, had you faced such unkindness that it rendered you to decide that Earth was not worth saving?

In his opinion, you weren’t a horrible person. You just needed a friend. Someone to make you believe in humanity again, and he wanted to be that person. His eyes focused on Warumono-san, taking in his happy but twisted expression. The man currently choking him wasn’t a horrible person either, although most wouldn’t believe that.

Yes, Warumono-san and the evil organization he was a part of were the Ranger’s sworn enemies, but he had seen and experienced firsthand how kind the villain could be. And if that were true…then could he not return that kindness?

Was protecting you the wrong thing to do if Warumono-san wouldn’t do harm to you? His eyes burned slightly, filling with tears that reflected the light provided by the streetlamps. When he noticed Red Ranger’s eyes moisten, a sign that he would soon cry, his grip on his throat loosened.

Red Ranger sharply inhaled, coughing slightly before he noticed himself being lowered back to the ground. “Huh?” He looked around, pressing his feet against the sidewalk a few times before looking back at Warumono-san who sighed and transformed into his civil form.

He leered at the Ranger who was now massaging his throat, a few tears slowly dripped down his cheeks as he attempted to regain his steady breathing. “Well,” Warumono-san stated, making the red-haired boy pause and look at him. He tilted his head to the side, exposing his sharp teeth, “What is that Earthling’s name?”

Red Ranger’s hands curled into fists, and once again, he debated telling the other what he knew. The internal struggle was clear on his face given his slanted eyebrows and tense posture and while Warumono-san noticed this, he didn’t care about how the Ranger felt.

An angry Earthling meant nothing to him. This, however, didn’t stop him from being caught off guard by the next set of words that left the Ranger’s mouth. “I-if I tell you…” he hesitated, and his lip quivered but he needed to say this!

“You...you have to promise not to hurt her!” He demanded, and part of him grew surprised to see the hint of humanity shine in the villain’s eyes. Silence lingered in the air, apart from the rumbling of distant traffic and the chirping of crickets and other insects.

He grasped his chin. He was uncertain why Red Ranger wished him to promise such a thing. Yes, his goal was to annihilate humanity and yes, he would feel bad for killing off certain people he had come to know. But you…well, you had struck a fancy in him.

Perhaps you’d be the first Earthling he’d spare from such a devastating fate. Pulling the corner of his lip up, he grimaced down at the Ranger. His stomach twisted with unease knowing he was about to bend to the other’s will, but if it got him the information, he so desired, it was a worthy sacrifice.

“Fine,” he replied, lowering his hand with the intent to shake Red Ranger’s. “It’s a deal,” he stated, and while he suspected the Ranger to be hesitant for him to keep his word, that suspicious stare of his didn’t lessen the feeling of annoyance. 

Earthlings were indeed strange, even when you gave them your word, there was still so clearly doubt. This was unlike the people back on his home planet who would keep their word and keep themselves in good standing with others.

While his hand trembled, he managed a steady handshake with Warumono-san. However, he was struck with panic when he felt the pressure of nails against the top of his hand. “Now what is her name?” He demanded, having grown too impatient for Red Ranger’s nonsense.

“Mm,” even if he was still uncomfortable with this, he couldn’t back down now. “Her name is…Y/n,” his eyes lit up. “Y/n,” he repeated, although he wasn’t partial to complimenting or even caring about Earthling names, yours sounded so sweet on his tongue.

Red Ranger nodded. “Yes and…” he paused again, wondering if he should say any more. However, he had the other’s attention, and that grim stare only convinced him to continue speaking. “She…has a shop near the Uenono Zoo,” he stated, watching the other’s eyes light up.

He knew that Warumono-san favored the zoo, particularly the panda exhibit which explained why his eyes beamed with happiness at his words. Although he hadn’t informed the other that you made and sold stuffed animals, he assumed that would be self-explanatory. “Heh,” Warumono-san smirked, “I see.”

He planned to visit your precious little shop at his earliest convenience. He turned, his eyes settling on his bag of frozen treats that remained on the sidewalk across the street. He couldn’t help but frown knowing that they were likely melted as he wasted more time than he had anticipated dealing with Red Ranger.

“Thank you for the information,” he stated, walking across the street with his hand held up. “Huh!?” He stiffened and drew his bottom lip into his mouth, watching the villain grab his plastic bag filled with who knows what before walking down the sidewalk.

He continued to watch until Warumono-san disappeared around the corner of a building, more than likely headed home. He let out the breath he was holding but his relaxation was short-lived when he heard two distinct voices behind him.

“Wow, he’s lost again, isn’t he?” A high-pitched voice said. “Still can’t find your way around the block, Red?” He blinked and slowly turned to see Sora and Mugi. As usual they were standing close together, their hands interlocked as they looked at him with unamused expressions.

“Sora, Mugi!” He shouted, alarmed that the two were by themselves, and dropped to his knees, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “What happened!? Why are you out here at night!?” He demanded, his eyes wavering with fear.

“We’re not alone,” Sora replied, her tone somewhat snarky. “Yeah, Blue is following us,” Mugi stated, pointing behind him. “Huh?” Red shifted his gaze to see a tall boy with bright blue hair, and equally blue eyes running up to them.

He was wearing an oversized dark-colored hoodie, with jeans and black shoes. As soon as he approached, he leaned over, placing his hands on his knees. His soft pants filled the air before he swallowed thickly and glared at the twins.

“Don’t run off like that again!” He scolded before a sigh passed his lips and he pressed his hand against his forehead. “Black would kill me if anything happened to you guys,” he stated, lowering his hand to resume glaring at the pair who responded with a pout.

Blue’s eyebrow twitched, even if he tried, he would be unable to explain just how irritated Sora and Mugi made him sometimes. He sighed again, trying to push his anger back before grabbing Sora’s hand. “Come on,” he urged, “we need to get back before Black gets mad.”

The last thing he needed was a lecture about how it was past Sora and Mugi’s bedtime. Red watched the interaction before looking in the direction Warumono-san went. ‘I hope Y/n will be okay,’ even if you continued to reject the idea of being part of the Rangers, he didn’t want you to be harmed by anyone.

“You too, Red!” Blue shouted, snapping the other out of his paranoid thoughts. “Huh!?” He turned his head back, looking at the three ahead of him. “Oh, r-right!” He replied, running to catch up to them. Maybe a good night’s sleep would suit him well and take his mind off you and Warumono-san.

However, that didn’t change what he had said before. If anything happened to you at the hands of that villain, he’d make sure he paid the price. ‘A shop near the zoo, a shop near the zoo…’ he thought as he walked past the Uenono Zoo.

His desire to see his precious pandas was high, but he had a mission to complete. ‘Yes!’ he thought, ‘Pandas must wait! Locating the Earthling, Y/n comes first!’ His eyes scanned the area. ‘A shop near the zoo, a shop near the zoo…’ he repeated before resuming walking.

Several small shops lined the street near the zoo and made him come to a halt. He tilted his head, grasping his chin in contemplation, and ignored the strange looks he got from passersby. Yet another odd set of behaviors he noticed Earthlings engage in.

What was so fascinating about his appearance that their stares remained fixated on him even as they walked away? Well, it mattered very little. He would not miss those stares when the Earth was overtaken in the name of his mother planet. A sigh passed his lips as he lowered his hand and yet again glanced along the row of shops.

There was only one logical thing to do now. “Yes!” He declared, making the Earthlings around him stop and look. ‘That is it! I must visit each shop to determine if it’s Y/n’s!’ He thought frantically, bending his knees, and raising his hands above his head, ignoring the fact he was indeed a spectacle.

‘Now,’ he straightened his posture, leering at the spectators who seemed to shudder and quickly walk away. “Heh…” he tried not to let his pride distract him as he, once again, looked at the shops. He lightly tapped his lips, ‘Which one do I start with?’

He quickly concluded that it didn’t matter and walked to the first little shop on the left. His eyes immediately catch the delightful display of fluffy creatures, primarily teddy bears that lined the display window. His hand fisted into the front of his shirt, his heart pounding with excitement at the uniquely crafted plush companions.

‘W-what is this!?’ He pressed his palms against the smooth glass as he observed each teddy bear. There were varieties of colors and sizes, and each one was placed in a playful pose that beckoned him to take them home. He noticed the craftsmanship of them and the intricate stitching and embroidery that truly brought them to life.

Some were even wearing tiny outfits, with miniature hats and scarves while others had delightful ribbons around their necks. Like a present you would give away on the Earthling holiday, Christmas. He was at a loss for words as he contemplated which ones he wanted to purchase.

However, they were quickly forgotten when he gazed up and his breath hitched. ‘It’s Y/n!’ He grinned, his heart now swelling with pride. ‘I found her.’ He was prepared to walk into your shop when something else caught his eye.

“Hm!?” He watched you threading a needle before leaning over to pierce it through something, but not just any old something. ‘WHAT!?’ his jaw dropped, and his eyes widened as he watched you sew two pieces of fabric together.

One was colored white, and the other black. He knit his eyebrows, noticing that the fabric looked incredibly fluffy and almost defied gravity, standing out in all directions like a cloud of softness. Its dark button eyes shimmered in the light of the shop, and its silly freshly stitched together tongue hung out amidst its black-yarned smile.

“P-panda?!” Not just any panda, but the biggest, fluffiest, and cutest stuffed panda teddy bear he had ever seen or imagined. He was in awe as he continued to watch you create the stuffed companion, and his fingers curled against the glass.

You seemed unaware of his presence, and while that would normally work to his advantage, he wanted your attention. He also wanted that panda bear you were creating. He clenched his jaw, feeling a soft ache course through his teeth.

‘Yes…’ he thought, his hands now trembling. “I must make sure nobody gets the panda bear!” He pushed off the display window, stumbling as he ran to the door. He grasped the handle desperately and felt the weight of the door give way and a bell ring as he barged in.

The change in atmosphere was astounding, there was a certain warmth that surrounded him. The soft lighting that cast a gentle glow over the plush companions that lined every corner only added to the already inviting surroundings. The aroma of fabric with the faint undertone of sawdust filled his nostrils.

However, there was another scent that caught his attention. Something like a hint of lavender and cedarwood. “Hm?” You turned your head, the needle and thread still securely placed between your thumb and forefinger.

“Oh…” your eyes lingered on the strange man who entered your shop, noticing his black shirt, trench coat, and curly mess of hair that hid a portion of his face. Not to mention his long, elf-shaped ears. ‘Well…that’s some look,’ you thought, deciding to shrug it off and greet him.

“Heh,” you forced a smile and tried to muster the sweetest tone, “Hi, welcome to my shop!” His heart accelerated at the sound of your voice, and he straightened his posture. The odd feeling of warmth rushing through his cheeks almost made him think something was wrong.

For a moment, he wondered if this was a trap or if he had contracted some strange new Earthling disease. Had the Earthlings made some new weapon that weakened his kind!? Despite his internal dismay, he hummed in response to your words.

No, this reaction couldn’t have been caused by any Earthling disease. Rather, he suspected that perhaps unlike the rest of the Earthlings on this miserable planet, he had unintentionally selected you as the sole survivor when the Earth was taken over.

And the reason was that…you had caught his interest, or uh, curiosity but what would he do now that he was so close to you!? What could he say? Surely you didn’t wish to talk about the incident with Red Ranger, although that was the incident that triggered this situation.

Given that you didn’t know he had a connection with the Rangers or that he was present when you were interacting with Red Ranger, it would be unwise to mention it. In addition, he did not wish to lose something he had yet to obtain.

His eyes lingered on the stuffed panda you were currently constructing, and his shoulders stiffened. ‘Yes…the panda!’ he reached into his trench coat, pulling out his wallet. ‘I must make sure no Earthling purchases it!’ his steps echoed through the empty shop as he approached you.

“There, at least that section is finished,’ you thought, quickly cutting the remaining thread on the needle before noticing the strange man had approached you. “Uh…” glancing at him up close, you noticed just how tall he was and the slightly intimidating aura that surrounded him.

Although since you were trained in combat, you had very little to worry about. If he tried anything, he’d get his ass kicked the same way Red Ranger did. However, despite your assumptions about him, he caught you by surprise when he pointed at the panda and asked, “How much?!”

You were slightly alarmed by the panic in his voice, as if he were afraid that the stuffed panda you were working on was going to disappear out of thin air. In addition, it struck you as odd that a grown man would want such a stuffed companion. Then again, maybe you shouldn’t judge.

The man could have a family or knew someone who had children who might appreciate your craft. Of course, you knew your customers well and realized you hadn’t seen this man before. “Uh…what’s your name?” you asked, turning briefly to stick the needle you held back into the pin cushion next to the stuffed panda.

“Huh?” Warumono-san frowned. ‘What is this? Is she attempting to distract me away from the panda?’ He irrationally thought, gazing at the inanimate object before looking back at you. His eyes carefully scan you from head to toe, noting that your posture gave away your attitude.

Your hands were on your hips, and that ever-so-interesting hint of a pout on your lips, yet your furrowed brows indicated your annoyance. However, this only reminded him of what an intriguing Earthling you were, and a certain feeling overwhelmed him as he continued to stare at you.

Like a flutter of a hummingbird’s wings, his heart, no…his whole body felt light. “Heh,” he smiled. ‘Yes…well played Y/n…trying to distract me away from the panda!’ He thought, resisting the urge to frantically move his body as he normally would when consumed by his thoughts.

‘Very well, I shall play your game! But know this, the panda is mine!’ He swallowed, his grip tightening around his wallet. “Warumono-san,” he replied, his tone deep and authoritative. Given his position as General of an evil organization that set out to destroy Earth, he was used to speaking with certain tones.

Said tones were normally reserved for putting others in their place. Not that he was ruthless or unjust, no. But he wasn’t foolish enough to dismiss the idea that he deserved a certain level of respect, and even in cases where he did not receive such respect, from Trigger for example, he remained calm and collected.

Respect was earned yes, but you could not expect everyone to respect you. Yet, this ideology was quite amusing considering he found himself respecting you more than any other Earthling simply because of the way you treated Red Ranger and your opinion of the Earthlings. You blinked, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands moved from your hips and rested against your inner elbows when you crossed your arms. “Warumono-san?” You repeated, finding his name or what he liked to be addressed by rather strange. But this world was full of strange, stupid people. So, you shrugged, deciding to go along with the charade.

“Okay?” you replied, taking a breath. “My name is Y/n, I own this shop,” there was a certain bittersweet tone to your voice that made him concerned. Yet, something else took precedence at that moment. “How much for the panda?” He asked again, pointing to it, and noting your eyebrows furrowing again.

“This…” you sighed only being reminded that his behavior was odd. But he hadn’t done anything harmful, and he didn’t smell of booze, so it was safe to assume he wasn’t intoxicated. “This isn’t for sale yet an-” you stumbled back when he shoved a handful of yen into your face.

‘I must make sure nobody else gets the panda!’ His jaw clenched as he intensely stared at you. His eyes held an almost predatory glance. ‘I will not tolerate any other Earthling purchasing what was made by this Earthling!’ And when he spared your life, you could make more stuffed animals.

A stuffed animal for each of his comrades on his mother planet, oh yes! Your body stiffened, and you resisted the urge to grab his wrist and flip him over your shoulder and onto the floor. Pressing your fingertips together, you took a deep breath and felt your stomach sink and your body heat up with the slightest bit of anger.

Like a small match, ready to cause destruction if used correctly. Yet, you tried to remind yourself of the purpose of this shop. The stuffed animals that lined the walls and shelves were the legacy of what your grandparents left behind, as they believed you deserved an easier life than the one your parents tried to force you to have.

‘Right…’ you let out the breath you were holding and returned your gaze to the man who still held out a handful of money. ‘They wouldn’t have approved of me denying this man...’ your eyes lingered on his stone-cold face, ‘As strange as he is.’ Another sigh passed your lips.

“Fine,” you replied, taking the money from him, and quickly counting it. You glanced at the panda, knowing you could always make another one. It would be easy, like clockwork considering you’ve done it your whole life. “I guess this will do,” you said, folding the cash in half before tucking it into your pocket.

“But this particular panda isn’t going to be done for a couple of days,” you informed, casting a soft glare his way. But his reaction was not what you expected, it was almost like he hadn’t heard you. He remained standing there, with the strangest smile on his face.

Although you couldn’t see his eyes because his hair obstructed them, you could feel his stare and it was beginning to make you feel a little self-conscious. “Um…” you crossed your arms. “Hello?” You said, unaware that Warumono-san was simply beaming with happiness.

Not only did you agree to give him the precious panda but knowing that it was made by you made his heart even lighter. He had not felt this way since he was a young one before the crushing weight of the workforce pulled him down.

As he continued to stare at you, he noticed something about you, and it made him grasp his chin in thought. Some form of radiance surrounded you, like a golden hue. Was there not an Earthly term for that? ‘Oh yes,’ it suddenly came to him, he had read about them in one of the religious books certain Earthlings seemed to abide by.

You looked like what they depicted as an angel. Unfortunately, your angelic reign on Earth would soon be over. Yes, he had promised not to harm you, but nothing was said about capturing you. “Thank you,” he said and watched with some amusement as your eyebrows raised as if you hadn’t expected him to speak.

“Yeah well,” you huffed and glanced away from him. “I make and sell these things,” you said, motioning to the in-progress stuffed panda. “So, I guess it’s not a big deal if someone wants one before it’s finished being made,” you concluded.

“Hm?” Warumono-san sensed a heavy tension filling the air, and the frown on your face indicated you weren’t exactly the happiest now. But he remained quiet, allowing you to speak as you wished. Your throat tightened, forming a lump that made you swallow heavily.

“You know, I never really envisioned myself doing this,” you confessed, although you weren’t sure why you were revealing this to a stranger. Maybe it was because he wouldn’t judge you, not that you would care if he did. Maybe it was because you hoped you wouldn’t see him again after this.

Maybe still, there was something about him that made you feel like you could be truthful or vent a little. Beating up Red Ranger only helped so-so. “It just started off as one of my grandparent’s hobbies, and then it turned into this,” you explained, waving your hand through the air.

“Spent most of my childhood helping them with the shop, and learning how to make stuffed animals even if my parents didn’t approve,” you chuckled slightly. “All they cared about was fighting and training in the name of the family reputation.”

Yes, you were grateful that you had learned how to defend yourself, but they pushed you beyond your limits. They acted as though fighting and training were the only qualities that equaled someone being worthy. Because of that, they forced you into that lifestyle or at least it felt like they did.

It was like you never had a choice, and there was constant tension between them and your grandparents over what was best for you. The only time you seemed to get peace away from your parents, and the weight of responsibility lifted from your shoulders was when you were with your grandparents.

They showed you that there was something else you could do with your life and that you had the right to choose what you wanted to do. Of course, this was before you had learned that they left their business to you. Sometimes you think you made the choice to keep their shop alive because you felt like you owed them.

Still, it was the first choice that you had made in your otherwise suffocating life, and because of it, you were disowned by your family which only added salt to the wound. Yes...life was not fair, and the unlucky suffered because of those who thought it right to step all over others.

‘Humanity is awful,’ you thought before looking at Warumono-san. ‘But...at least I can show kindness when I wish to.’ Your chuckle didn’t fool him. It was evident there was a bittersweet sadness you were attempting to cover. “I...” he noticed your hesitance and the subtle pain that shined in your eyes.

“When they died, they passed the shop onto me. Guess I’m just trying my best to keep it alive for their sake,” you concluded with a shrug. “Mm…” perhaps this was another reason why he felt so…infatuated by you. That strong front you put up, that wall that separated your true feelings was much like his.

Yes, everyone looked up to and feared him, but was he truly as evil as everyone depicted? The answer was quite obvious. Yet, there was a tenderness underneath that front that longed to be set free but could only do so seldom. Yes, perhaps you two were more alike than he realized.

He glanced at you, the sadness that enveloped your features was something he detested, perhaps even more than the Rangers. ‘So, the business was passed down to Y/n. Earthlings are known for performing such acts for their offspring or relatives,’ although he didn’t have a solid opinion on how he felt about such things.

There was still so much to learn and comprehend when it came to Earthlings, but this didn’t change the knowledge that once something important was handed to you, it was your job to protect and let it prosper. Things he was going to do with you, very soon.

“I see,” he replied after a moment, daring to step closer to you. “We have similar exchanges on my mother planet,” he confessed before realizing his words. You knit your eyebrows. “What?” You replied, and he shook his head, deciding to choose the strategy of silence.

Although he wanted to reply and make some phony explanation as to why he said what he did, he found himself unable to think rationally. The pounding of his heart echoed in his ears and his simmering hot cheeks only added to this inability.

Yet, one question screamed out in the back of his mind. How could he reveal such confidential information without a second thought!? “Uh…” you blinked, noticing the way he was positioned. He was hunched over, his knees bent and practically pressed against his chest.

His hands were tangled in his messy crop of hair, and his lips were pulled up, revealing his unusual pointy teeth. ‘Is he having some internal crisis?’ You wondered, but just as you stepped forward, he snapped out of his daze, and you saw the faintest hint of his golden orbs peering at you from behind those chocolate-colored strands.

Your eyes widened at the sight of them. Yes, you had seen some unusual things in your time, and the stories Red Ranger told you were extremely difficult to believe, let alone picture. Somehow, Warumono-san’s eyes had you frozen. But not with fear, rather something else. Something…unearthly.

‘Wait a minute...’ it slowly dawned on you. ‘Is this...one of the members of the evil organization?’ A small hint of panic consumed you, but you tried to keep your thoughts straight. That was...ridiculous. If this man was part of that organization, shouldn’t he have done something horrible to you by now?

He stood up, his posture now stiff and his hands loosely curled by his sides. He looked at you, his lips pressed out in a thin line. He could feel the tightness growing in his throat and made the choice to play ignorant, although this was his least favored tactic.

“Thank you very much,” he stated, bowing slightly before he turned to the door and the ends of his tailcoat drifted through the air as he walked away. He wrapped his hand around the metal bar across the door, and once again the bell gave a soft ring, signaling his departure.

However, he paused and looked at you from over his shoulder. His gaze lingers and makes you feel that same strange sensation as if he was from another planet. “Little plushie maker,” he purred, finding some amusement at your wide-eyed expression before walking out of the shop.

He planned to return in a few days to bring the desired plushie panda bear and possibly you home. Once again, his heart fluttered at the thought, and he smiled as he slipped his hands into his pockets, heading back toward the Uenono Zoo.

His steps echoed against the paved grooves that made up the street, and as he looked up at the sky he thought, ‘I must privately report this.’ His eyes focused on a cloud passing by, ‘The day I decided to take an Earthling as my soon to be…beloved.’

[shizunitis]

Luo Binghe & Tianlang-Jun: Origins. And a Bit of Projection.

Disclaimer: This is basically just a collection of quotes from The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System, Volume 3, accompanied by (adjective) thoughts, and then even more relevant quotes listed at the end. If I could, I’d paste the entirety of Chapter 18.

“As expected, I can’t bring myself to hate humans.” — Vol. 3, Chapter 21: Always Together

I will always be conflicted on the topic of Tianlang-jun, and it annoys me. There is so much I could say about him, and so little I can successfully articulate. He is, to me, more confounding, complex and tragic than Shen Jiu.

He’s pitiful and awe-inspiring, wicked and affable, cunning and wide-eyed in his curiousity. He is a compelling, heartbreaking character. He alternates between emotionless wisdom and mournful apathy. I admire how his knees don’t buckle under the weight of his grief, but how he crumbles at the barest hint of hope. How rage claws at him and, still, he can’t figure out how to make it stick.

I empathise with him. I understand him.

But then, in the distance, Luo Binghe's indifferent voice disturbs the silence, causing me to drop my drink onto the floor and this post onto your screen:

“He’s not my father.”

It’s an interesting exercise, exploring their relationship in reconciliation fics. To see them interact (semi-)honestly, watch them take turns filling up the chasm between them. It’s wonderful. Every fic I’ve read centred around them was a delightful read that I still think about.

However. I cannot see Tianlang-Jun, as I understand him, as Luo Binghe’s father. And not just because of the 3rd Novel’s events.

But because Binghe had hoped for something; he did have that wide-eyed wonder. He did hold one last window open, for the sake of an improbability he couldn’t quite, just yet, dismiss.

It’s what (most) orphaned and/or adopted childred do.

Though Luo Binghe had never said a word about it before, Shen Qingqiu knew that he harbored some fantasies about his birth parents. […] In fact, he’d always secretly fantasized about whether his parents might still be alive, and how well they’d treat him, and how they’d never let him suffer the mildest slight. — Vol. 3, Chapter 17: Tianlang

It is the most human thing; to want to be helped, accepted, invited by those given to you. A family is given to you. Whether you believe it an act of the divine, of nature, of coincidence, it isn’t something you fight for. It’s the first and, arguably, only thing you don’t have to fight for in life.

Depending on a multitude of factors, that can be a blessing or a curse; but where there is room for interpretation, questions left unanswered, most childred—Binghe included—will turn to their imagination, and try to make sense of it. Usually, to comfort themselves, to reassure themselves that surely, if their family could, they would have.

And, yeah. Most likely, if the Palace Master had gotten punted into the Sun like he fucking deserved, they would have. But does it matter?

In the face of a bleak reality, what comfort is a could-have-been?

He liked to call Luo Binghe “that son of mine,” but he didn’t seem to possess any concept of fatherly affection. […] Luo Binghe was in fact…someone who was unloved by even his own parents. — Vol. 3, Chapter 15: Holy Mausoleum

What use are good intentions to an abandoned child? What consolation is it, to say, They gave birth to you, when that child has seen no evidence of their care? Does it dry their tears, that their mother can’t be here, but she surely would have wished to be? That their father would protect them, if only he knew of them?

(And don’t make me tell you about the visceral horror I felt reading the Origins chapter. I’ve yet to make my peace with it. MXTX, Airplane, whoever: you’ve ruined me.)

The washerwoman was and continues to be, to Binghe, his only mother. And I would argue, that’s healthy. Even independent of his other traumas (Abyss, Shizun’s betrayal, Xin Mo’s influence, living on the streets, etc, holy shit Binghe) Luo Binghe will not accept anyone else as his mother.

“Who is this Su Xiyan?” Luo Binghe asked coldly. “My mother was a mere washerwoman.” — Vol. 3, Chapter 18: Origins.

It may seem callous. It probably even is! But it is a healthy line he’d drawn by his own initiative. It’s what helps him, what he feels he needs to do in order to do right by his mother, and his own heart.

And! Tianlang-Jun doesn’t seem to give much of a shit, either!

Won’t, probably, even in the future, once the dust will have settled. He is exhausted, weary with carrying the corpse of his love, the loss of his nephew. Whatever goodwill he shows, it’s a perfunctory sort, because he can’t afford more.

So. Uhh.

Tianlang-Jun is not a character I can love, nor one I can hate. Usually, I can’t help but be inclined to love complex characters. Like them, too—though that’s more of an action-based thing rather than just said character’s personality.

But with Tianlang-Jun, I’m stuck whichever way I turn. If I want to love/like him, I’m drawn back by Binghe’s pain and disappointment. If I try to hate/dislike him, I’m drawn back by his own history and grief.

In conclusion:

I don't know! I'm not really trying to, like, prove anything. I still love the aforementioned TLJ & LBH fics, I still love their dynamic. I started walking and ended up exactly in the same space. This, perhaps, could be considered a Heavenly Demon Family Mobius Strip!

I'm not really trying to say anything. It just… makes me feel conflicted, and angry, and whenever I allow myself to think about it a bit more, sad.

But.

However!

Alas.

Nonetheless, even.

As a reader and—on my better days—a writer, all I can say is:

As promised/threatened: some selected passages, for your reading pleasure:

So, it looked like neither the father nor the cousin had any intention of acknowledging Luo Binghe. — Chapter 15: Holy Mausoleum

He liked to call Luo Binghe “that son of mine,” but he didn’t seem to possess any concept of fatherly affection. — Chapter 15: Holy Mausoleum

Tianlang-Jun lifted his hand, took a look at Luo Binghe’s snow-pale face, and commented indifferently, “He looks like his mother.” “His eyes look like yours,” came a chill voice from the side. — Chapter 15: Holy Mausoleum

The faint hopes and dreams Luo Binghe had held in his heart for many years had been mercilessly pulverized into so much dust. […] [Tianlang-Jun] refused to speak a single word of their relationship and had been utterly ruthless back in the Holy Mausoleum. […] To his parents, Luo Binghe was an unwanted child. — Chapter 18: Origins

“If he was my father, why didn’t he bring it up earlier? Why not tell me?” The most Tianlang-Jun had said was that single line he offered while beating up Luo Binghe, devoid of either praise or criticism: “He looks like his mother.” He looks like his mother. What of it? But that was all. There was nothing more. — Chapter 18: Origins

Luo Binghe was indifferent. “He’s not my father.” […] Luo Binghe shook his head. It was unclear what he was stubbornly clinging to, but he repeated, “He’s not my father.” — Chapter 18: Origins

Luo Binghe raised his smiling face, his eyes shining brightly. “Mother was the kindest person in all the world to me.” — Chapter 19: Shen Jiu

[kaleldobrev]

Shiny New Toy (3)

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Fem!Virgin!Reader

Summary: Dean finally fills you up just like he promised

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (15x), Smut (Fingering, P in V), Unprotected sex (Remember to wrap it up kiddos!), Creampie, Non-Con (If you squint)

Authors Note: Hope you enjoy part 3 of my Demon!Dean smut mini-series! | I think there's probably going to be just one more part | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Shiny New Toy Masterlist

“Dean…” Your voice was barely a whisper. It was so inaudible, that you weren’t even sure if you had even said his name out loud or not.

“Y/N…” His tone had almost matched yours, as if he was making fun of you for the way you had just said his name.

“Please…” Your voice slightly louder than before, but still very much low in tone.

“Please what baby?” He asked, his volume still matching yours. He reached out and started caressing your cheek with this thumb; the action making you shudder.

“I…” Your chest was tight, and there was a giant knot in your stomach. You were struggling; your thoughts and emotions scattered. The man in front of you was a complete stranger to you, despite having the face of one of your best friends, someone that you had fallen in love with. The Dean that you once knew was gone; there wasn’t a hint of him anywhere. In all other circumstances, you would have wanted Dean to have sex with you. Losing your virginity to Dean was something that you often thought about; even almost taking him up on his offer to take your virginity. At least it would have been with someone that you trusted.

“You have to use your words Sweetness.” He said, tilting your chin up just a bit, smirking.

“Go slow…Please.” Your voice slightly begging.

“Aw baby,” he began, sounding almost amused by your plea. “You’re honestly adorable.” He smirked. “Did you forget what I told you before?” He asked. You shook your head. “And what was that?”

“This…this isn’t about me.” You whispered.

He raised a brow. “I’m sorry, what was that?” He leaned in close, almost mockingly.

“This isn’t about me.” Your voice sounding just a little bit more stern, surer of your answer.

“Very good.” He patted the top of your head as if you were some kind of child being praised.

“Dean, if there is any part of you in there that still has…some kind of feelings for me…at all…” As much as you had wanted to finish what you were about to say, you knew there was no point; he wasn’t going to listen to you, not in the current state that he was in.

“Old me had feelings for you.” He admitted. “Old me was, God I hate to say it but, he was in love with you.” Dean being in love with you was something that really hadn't crossed your mind. Since meeting him, you were always under the assumption that he loved you in the way of a little sister or as a friend, nowhere near that of a romantic interest. When you had first met him, you thought that there may of been something there, but as soon as you said your age, his face dropped, and you thought that was that - he no longer had interest in pursuing anything romantic with you. "Sweetheart, were you even paying attention to anything that I was doing when I was human? I mean, think about it. I know you're not stupid baby."

Of course you had caught Dean staring at you hundreds of times, but you never contributed them to anything remotely romantic. "All those times I stared at your ass..." his hand started moving down your body, stopping on your ass, giving it a small slap. You let out a tiny yelp like noise, not expecting him to do what he just did. "All those times I stared at these..." his hands started to remove your arms from your chest, the one thing that you had felt kept you remotely decent. "Honestly Sweetheart, really surprised you never caught me. Sammy even had to snap me out of staring a few times." He chuckled to himself. Fuck, even Sammy knew. You thought.

"You know Sweetheart, you really should have taken me up on my offer." He said. "I would have taken such good care of you. Gone nice and slow...made it all about you..." He started to circle around you, examining you like you were some kind of toy. "I would have been such a gentlemen too and would have even cuddled with you afterwards."

"Now's a crappy time to tell me that you loved me." You said, a slight attitude in your voice. "Why didn't you tell me? I genuinely thought you had no interest considering...my age..." You mumbled the last couple of words, but you were curious, curious as to why he never said anything to you. He had so many opportunities to you and yet, now was the time he decided to let you know.

"I'm not really in the mood for a therapy session Sweetheart." He said, his chest pressed up against your back, his arms wrapped around you. "But you know what I am in the mood for?" He asked, resting his chin on your shoulder. You nodded. "Oh." Your nodding intrigued him. "Does my girl want to tell me?" My girl. One of the many nicknames that you loved that he called you - and one of the only ones that he had simply reserved for you. It sounded so vile coming from his mouth now.

"You want to fuck me." You said simply.

"Ding, ding, ding! That's right baby." He grinned. "Want to know how? Or do you want to be surprised?

You knew it was a tricked question: this wasn't about you, his sentence consistently repeating itself in your head. "Can you...can you tell me?"

"No. I want it to be a surprise." He grinned.

You were lying right where you had started: lying with your back on the table. But this time thankfully, you were actually free to move around, well, at least partially. Your legs were dangling off the table, your ass on the very edge - one wrong move and you'd probably fall off. Dean was positioned between your legs; both hands on your thighs holding your legs wide open. If he wasn't what he was, this would have been a sight that you would have loved to see: Dean Winchester standing fully naked in front of you. "What a fucking sight." He said finally. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of this fucking view." He said, looking into your eyes for a brief moment.

He removed his hands from your thighs, after running his hands on them. The feeling of his warm hands felt nice on your gently cool skin. "And I have to say," he began as he took his dick into his hand. "I've been with a lot of women, and I mean a lot," you hated the bragging. You knew that he was a ladies man, but this was something that you didn't particularly want to hear when you were about to lose your virginity to the man that you have been in love with for years. "But your pussy Sweetheart..." you felt the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. "God..." his free hand gripped your hip. "Probably the best I've ever seen."

You wanted to shut your eyes, but that was something that you couldn't for some reason bring yourself to do. You knew your body was tense, and you were pretty sure that Dean noticed. "Sweetheart, no need to be tense. You're going to feel so fucking good, I promise." He said, his eyes flashing that brief black that you hated before turning into the green shade that you loved. "Having sex, fucking," he started to say as he started pressing his cock inside of you. "It's literally the best thing you'll ever experience in your life." He pushed himself deeper inside of you. As he did, you couldn't help but watch as he started to disappear inside of you. You already felt full and he wasn't even completely inside of you yet.

"Fuck." You said, almost throwing your head back.

He chuckled at your response. "I warned you I was big Sweetheart." He smirked. "You're taking me so, so good though." His compliment felt so weird to you. "There we go..." He half mumbled. You hoped he was all the way in now. "Ready baby?" He asked, nut knew he wasn't really asking. You nodded anyway, and that's when his smirk turned almost devilish.

His pace started out slower than you had thought he would have gone, which is something that you were grateful for. You half expected him to be going at a bruising pace as he had perfectly stated that this wasn't about you.

The room was completely silent except for the sounds of grunting (from Dean), moaning (from you) and the aggressive sounds of slapping of skin when he was pumping in and out of you (more like pounding in out of you). Your thoughts were incoherent, both of his hands were on your hips now, grippingly tight - you knew that you'd end up bruising. Despite the fact that the pace was starting to pick up and this was the first time you had anything remotely like this happen to you, the experience was...enjoyable to say the least. The feeling of him pulling almost all the way out before slamming right back into you was a feeling that you thought that you wouldn't particularly enjoy, but it was something that you had found yourself loving. "Dean..." You moaned, involuntarily. His name coming out of your mouth louder than you had expected it to be. Your legs slowly found themselves wrapping around his waist, your arms going above your head.

You didn't need to look at him to know that he was grinning from ear to ear. "Knew you'd enjoy it." He said. "Wish you could see yourself." One of his hands cupped one of your breasts, squeezing gently; this action causing you to let out yet another moan. "So sensitive." Almost a whisper. "How close are you Sweetness?" One of his hands running down your body, a finger hovering over your clit.

"C-close." You stuttered, feeling a slight pressure in the put of your stomach. "Ar-Are you?"

"Aw baby, how considerate of you to ask. Good girl." He said, chuckling slightly.

His movements started becoming sloppy now - he hadn't answered your question from before. "Dean?" You asked, moaning, slightly hushed.

"Yes baby? Are you going to cum?" You could hear the smirk on his lips. You nodded. "Better not fucking cum before me or they'll be consequences." Consequences? You didn't think about that.

"Dean...I'm..." You knew you were close, and you knew that you were going to cum before him; there was no possible way that you could control yourself. "Dean..."

"Don't fucking do it." He warned, his pace getting aggressively sloppier and faster. It amazed you that he was able to stay inside of you properly.

"F-f-fuck." You said, feeling your orgasm overcome you. As you were going through it, Dean continued to fuck you through it; one of his hands pressing down on your stomach while the other kept its bruising grip on your hips.

"That's it doll..." he said, his voice seductive sounding now. As you were riding out your orgasm, you felt him cum inside of you not even a minute later.

"De-fuck..." You trailed off.

Dean pulled out of you, and you were already missing the feeling of his cock inside of you. Your legs were shaking, and you felt as if you couldn't move. You never had that many orgasms before in such a short period of time. He looked at you as you started breathing heavy, your chest moving up and down as you stayed there lying on the table. One of his fingers started tracing your very sensitive and very wet clit. "So fucking beautiful." He said.

"Dean, please..." you begged, unsure if you were asking him to fuck you again or if you were asking him to give you a break. You weren't sure if you were even able to cum again.

"Need me to fuck you again? It's only been less than a minute Sweetheart. Miss my cock that badly?" You could hear the evil smirk on his face. For some reason you nodded. "I'll make a sex addict out of you yet." He dripped his finger slightly into you, and you moaned at the slight contact. You were incredibly sensitive right now.

"Dean..." You mumbled. His finger started slowly going in and out of your folds, spreading the cum around. He pumped his finger inside of you a few times before adding another one. At this point, you didn't care how desperate or needy you looked right now.

"Greedy, greedy." He almost sang, pulling his fingers out of you. You groaned at the loss. "Gotta punish you first doll."

"P-punish me?" You asked, slightly sitting up now.

"Yep." He said, licking his fingers. "You came before Y/N. I said, if you cum before me, there will be consequences. Now, get your sweet, sweet ass from off the table."

"What...What are you going to do?" Your question was innocent enough, but you knew he wasn't going to give you an innocent answer.

"Oh Sweetheart, I'm going to spank you." He replied. "Now, get off the table and get on all fours. I won't ask again."

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @fullbelieverheart @little-x-wolf @angiebangiee @ilikw @spnfamily-j2 @freewastelandstrawberry @jackles010378 If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

[mokokone]

Hello! I have an idea/request!!! I saw your Kusuriuri's and love them SO MUCH! Can I request maybe a Kusuriuri x reader with the red string, I heard that Kusuriuri is "unlikely that he can ever settle down and marry" so maybe the reader is the one that follows the red string and finds him. You know just a cute writing! Have a good day/afternoon/night! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ ♡♡

A/N: I had to do a little research on Japanese mythology before writing this. Hope you enjoy!♡

The Red Thread [The Medicine Seller/Kusuriuri x Reader Soulmate AU]

When you'd first seen the thin red string that was neatly tied to your pinkie finger, you knew immediately that Okuninushi no Mikoto, the God of Love and Marriage, had bound you to your soulmate.

You so badly wanted to meet them, but you were a little afraid that they might not be what you had imagined. However, as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the red string remained a constant reminder of the divine connection you shared with your soulmate. You found yourself growing more and more curious about who they could be, wondering if they were thinking about you too.

The anticipation and excitement continued to build, filling your heart with a mixture of hope and apprehension. Every time you looked at the string, you felt a surge of warmth and comfort, knowing that somewhere out there, your soulmate was waiting for you.

Thus, you began your journey through the land of Edo in search of the one connected to you by the red string of fate.

From bustling streets and rural villages to serene gardens and sacred shrines, the sense of connection you felt grew stronger. With each step you took, you felt an unfamiliar, small tug on your pinkie.

However, nothing came from those small tugs on the string. Despite the initial excitement and hope that had filled your heart, the absence of any further signals left you feeling uncertain and restless. You began to wonder if perhaps you had misinterpreted the signs or if the timing was simply not right.

As you were about to lose all hope, you suddenly felt that one constant pull, and you almost thought your finger was going to come off.

Curiosity is eating you alive. You take a deep breath and stand, following the string whenever it tugs. It was as if it was guiding you.

You want to know who you are connected to and why. You follow until the red string leads you to a red torii gate. Passing through, you're met with a gorgeous garden of pink hydrangeas and a beautiful shrine covered in papar Ofuda.

You stare at it in awe for a moment until the red string begins to glow brightly.

Slowly, you approach the shrine and see a man sitting on the engawa.

He had dirty blonde hair and wore a purple bandanna. He's dressed in a vibrant kimono with beautiful psychedelic patterns, and his appearance looks elven-like. The outsides of his eyes are outlined by strange markings, with the ones underneath forming the appearance of teardrops. And his upper lip is painted purple, making it appear that he is constantly smiling.

He doesn't look human at all. In fact, he remained like a sly fox. But the red string seems to connect to him as it does to you.

For a moment, you stare at him until his gaze meets yours.

"Oh?" His voice is velvety and attractive as he raises a tad, "A visitor?"

Suddenly, you felt naked as he shamelessly eyed you up and down; the corners of his mouth curled along with his painted lips in an amused smirk.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this special visit?" He asked.

"Are you... my soulmate?" You asked shyly, slowly inching her way closer.

You wanted to get closer to him, but stopped a few feet from him so as not to invade his personal space. You were strangers. The enchanted Ofuda covering the shrine acts as a warning to you to keep away.

"Hmm, perhaps I am." He tilts his head in question. "First, I'm hunting Mononoke, and the next thing I know is that I have a red string tied to my finger."

He then eyed the string tied to your own finger as his smile widens. Gently, he pulls at the red thread as trying to pull you forward.

"It would seem the old man has a sense of humor." He said.

Your face heats up in embarrassment as you shyly avert your gaze toward the ground. However, another tug on the string brings your attention back to him.

"I've been waiting for you to come find me." He replies.

"Y-you have?"

He nods.

"Though, you'll have to excuse all these... decorations," he says, gesturing towards the paper ofuda covering the shrine. "They were for safety measures in case you were a mononoke. Okuninushi is an old friend of mine, and I had assumed this was his way of getting back at me. But apparently I was wrong."

"You have a name?" You asked him.

"I'm just a humble medicine seller." He answers nonchalantly.

"You don't have a name?" You tilt your head in question.

Another smile graced his painted lips, and he is like a fox.

"I am but a humble medicine seller, nothing more."

Did he simply not have a name, or was he hiding it out of habit? Either way, you decided to call him as is.

"Kusuriuri, then," you say.

The Medicine Seller, or "Kusuriuri," grins in response, the sight of his sharp canines making your heart thump faster as the red string of fate that connects you both glows brighter.

Soon, he silently motions you over to sit next to him, which, after a little hesitation, you do.

For a moment, neither of you speak, the tranquil silence enveloping the space between you like a soft, comforting blanket, creating an atmosphere filled with anticipation. You feel Kusuriuri's enigmatic gaze on you, and for a second, you think that he's displeased by what he sees.

What if he finds you mediocre, ugly, or disgusting?

"Are you happy with the result?" He suddenly asked, nearly making you jump.

"Eh?" You meet his gaze. "M-me..?"

He nods in response, a gentle affirmation that propels your heart into a flurry of emotions as you realize the depth of his query.

"Yes."

Oh! Apparently he was having the same thoughts as you and is now asking if you're happy with the outcome.

You're not sure if it's the red thread that ties your souls inextricably together, but you couldn't be happier to have finally met him. It's clear he's not human, but you refuse to let such distinctions cloud your feelings or cloud your judgment of what truly matters.

"Okuninushi wants to know if you're satisfied with me being your soulmate. It is why the red thread glows," Kusuriuri explains, his words carrying a weight of significance. "If you are disappointed or unhappy, then you can untie and remove it from your finger." He added.

You're surprised by this. I mean, did you really want to untie the string? Yes, you and Kusuriuri are strangers and hardly know each other. But surely there's a reason why the God of Love and Marriage chose Kusuriuri to be your one and only.

Feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension, you gaze at the glowing thread that binds you and Kusuriuri together. As the significance of the situation sinks in, you find yourself hesitating, unsure of whether to keep the thread intact or to sever it and potentially change the course of destiny.

However, Kusuriuri doesn't seem to be complaining much since he's making no effort to remove the string, which piqued your curiosity.

"Are you happy, Kusuriuri-san?" You asked while averting your gaze back to him. "Are you satisfied with me being your soulmate?"

The words tumble out of your mouth in a rush, betraying the anxiety that has been building up inside you.

For a moment, he said nothing and only stared at you, which started to worry you. However, the corner of his lips arched upward as he smiled. His smile is enigmatic, hinting at a depth of emotion that you can't quite decipher.

"Only if you don't find me uninteresting," he says. "I am quite satisfied with my result." His words are cryptic yet strangely comforting, leaving you with a sense of peace.

"You are?"

"Yes, very much."

Slowly, he leans in close until he's inches away from your face. The sudden proximity made your face feel warm. His presence feels both familiar and unknown, drawing you in with a magnetic pull.

"I must admit, it gets lonely traveling alone, and I could use some company," he tells you with a soft smile.

The warmth of his eyes draws you in, hinting at a desire for connection and shared experiences in the boundless expanse of the world.

"Then, yes, I am happy, Kusuriuri-san," you finally answer in earnest.

Okuninushi didn't make no mistake.

"Then, would you care to join me on my travels, my dear?" He asked you.

You nod in agreement, still mesmerized by the sincerity and depth of his gaze, you feel an unspoken invitation to join him on an adventure, uncertain of the destination but eager for the journey ahead.

Without a word exchanged, the silence between you speaks volumes as you both lean in, closing the distance between your lips. In that fleeting moment of connection, the world around you fades into insignificance, leaving only the sensation of his touch and the shared intimacy of that tender kiss.

The red string of fate glows brighter, as does your bond.

[reallyromealone]

Rome? Are you taking any request at the moment? If you are the may I please request a Kaeya Alberich x Male Reader? Where reader comes off as a mysterious, mystical dancer who’s travelling the world, hoping to help inspire others. But in actuality he’s is actually hiding his ability to be able to transform into an dragon, an ice dragon the specific. So as reader is fleeing from his chasers, Kaeya comes to his rescue and the rest is history. I hope this is enough for you to work with. Also take your time and down forget to drink water and get plenty of sleep. 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁

I absolutely got you my dude

Male reader - dragon male reader - fluff

🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷

Dragons were a concept long forgotten, myths and nothing more.

(Name) looked at Mondstadt fascinated, the smell of foods and the liveliness made him feel warm inside, wandering through the town in clothes blended from the different countries as he never stayed long enough to have a collection of clothes.

(Name) danced for the gods, for safety and well being not just for himself but for those around him, wanting nothing but peace amongst the people.

"A dragon?" Kaeya looked surprised and Venti nodded "dragons are extremely rare, Dvalin is the only one I know of" the retired god said "many dragons have an ability to obtain a human look, there's dragons you may have met and never even known"

"What do we do? If word gets out there's a dragon it could cause problems" Amber said and the others thought "we better find him fast then"

(Name) was thankful for the coin given by people entranced by his dance (think of yunas summoning dance in final fantasy X) and the dancer sat at the steps of the cathedral and split the coin evenly before giving one half to the small donation box for the cathedral.

"Beautiful dancing" a voice commented and (name) turned to see a beautiful man with long navy hair and eye patch "why thank you, I travel and dance for the gods" (name) said kindly as he collected his things "that's quite honorable of you, I haven't seen you here before" Kaeya mentions and (name) stood adjusted his belongings "I'm passing through, I just wanted to stop here before going to Sumaru" (name) explained as he walked past Kaeya "I see, quite the adventurer" Kaeya joked and walking beside (name) he noticed how...cold he was.

Not personality but he just radiated a slight chill.

Though Kaeya couldn't say much as he was well was rather chilly to the touch due to his element.

Kaeya came to watch (name) dance every day and was in awe, he still hadn't found the dragon sadly but the dancing was wonderful.

"The dragon..." Someone realized as they looked at the dancer... Something wasn't right, his eyes weren't quite right.

He was to perfect.

(Name) was wandering to the tavern after collecting money and offering to Barbados when he smelt someone in his proximity and turned to see someone quickly hide behind a corner and (name)s hands got colder as he grew more defensive.

(Name) darted around corners as more hooded figures appeared and (name)s heart sped up, the city was far to small for him to transform.

(Name) felt his heart rate pick up as ice formed from under his feet, and he tried to find any escape route "you thought you could hide dragon? Pathetic" rope wrapped around (name)s ankle and he fired blindly as scales formed on his skin and (name) felt fear fill his being, he couldn't transform here to escape without risking lives.

"FUCK!" One of the goons screamed as a sword impaled his shoulder and (name) looked to see Kaeya "came to ask you for dinner but I see your rather tied up" Kaeya said joking but his tone said something VERY different as he proceeded to rock the goons shit, (name) froze the area around him to protect himself, he made a vow to not harm humans and was a strict pacifist.

But that didn't mean he couldn't watch someone else fight.

Kaeya walked to (name) after the crooks were handled "so you're the dragon... That explains a lot" Kaeya joked as the ice melted around (name) "thank you..." (Name) whispered as he stood up and Kaeya smiled "of course"

(Name) was awkward and uncomfortable as his scales retracted back and he looked more human "it's in my kinds nature to give our utmost loyalty to those who save our lives" (name) said seriously and Kaeya just huffed playfully "how about you let me take you to dinner?"

"That's all you want?"

"I'm not going to abuse me saving you, it's the right thing to do"

"...then I will accept your dinner invitation"

[ckret2]

Chapter 15 of Bill's a human prisoner and everybody's grumpy about it, featuring: NIGHTMARES NIGHTMARES NIGHTMARES NIGHTM

Remember these? We're getting 'em both in one chapter. Plus: FORD! Also: a little bit of human gore, a lot of bizarre alien gore.

This is a shorter chapter, but it's the first one with a direct glimpse into Bill's backstory and home dimension. I hope you enjoy! And are deeply horrified!

####

"You have to stop spouting this nonsense." A golden line slithered around him, weaving back and forth, her furious eye focused on him as she paced. "Nobody comes to your services for deranged muttering about points of light in darkness. They don't want to hear about things that are above-but-not-north of us! What does that mean, above-but-not-north?"

"It means what it says, Mom." Above him—above, but not north, in an endless void outside the plane of the world—countless stars twinkled in an unending dark. "That's where the third dimension is. And that's what it looks like! I don't know how else to explain it to someone who hasn't seen it!"

"Then why explain it at all? They don't want to hear it! It's a surprise you aren't already losing congregants. I know you can tell you're losing their interest."

He could tell. Sullenly, he said, "Maybe we just—just need smarter congregants. If they weren't too stupid to understand—"

"People are stupid, sweetie. That's why they follow you. You don't want the smart ones anyway, or they'd be smart enough to see through all the lies you make up about the third dimension—"

"I'm not making it up!"

"Every week you talk about impossible places that can't exist! Either you're lying or insane—which is it?"

How could he answer that? He looked up into space, as if the distant stars only he saw could help him.

"Oh, don't do that, I hate when your eye goes white like that. It might impress your worshipers but it doesn't work on your mother, young triangle." She paced around him faster, coiling tighter, surrounding him on all sides in gold, her eye peering straight into his. "I don't care whether you're a liar or a lunatic—you're still my golden child, and everyone else will see that too as long as you tell them what we say. Nobody wants to hear that the third dimension is a dark, empty void! Tell them it's full of color and life! Tell them it's filled with the spirits of departed shapes, or messengers, divine guides, muses—"

"But it isn't! I don't care what they want it to be, it's not true! I'm trying to make them understand!" He had to make them understand, he needed somebody to understand. He thought he'd go insane if he was the only one who could see how empty and awful space was.

"I've listened to your gibberish about points of light and up-not-north for months and I don't understand it, so how can anyone else—"

"You're not trying to understand!" Space and all its vast emptiness was oh, so close, so achingly close. Pressing against everyone's bodies, breathing over their organs, lighting up those tight-coiled fibers beneath everyone's skin, shining on the bloody bones and thin muscles. "Either you're not listening or you're stupid!" How couldn't anyone else see space?

"How dare you—!"

How could they be close enough to touch it and still deny what it was?

Why was he the only freak who could bend up into it?

Her sharp tail cracked like a whip behind his base. "I'll teach you to talk back to me like that!"

His mind was feverish with anger, pulsing and roiling behind his eye—and for a moment, he wasn't afraid of anything.

She could bend and flex and coil, she was the most flexible line he'd ever seen. The doctors thought he might have inherited his ability to bend up-not-north from her, some genetic predisposition to flexibility. If he could bend UP, so could she. He'd make her. He'd force her. He'd show her.

He jammed his corner into her side. She shrieked, uncoiling from around him to scrunch around her wound. "Watch your— What are you—"

"You'll see," he said, shoving her against the wall, shoving her into a corner. "You'll see if it's the last thing you do!" It was like cramming a long rope into a short box; each time he shoved, she bent and curved and bent again.

"Stop—stop, it HURTS—"

He could see it in his mind's eye: if he kept pushing and pushing eventually there'd be no more room in two dimensional space for her to fill, and then she'd be forced to bend UP, up into the third dimension, all that open free space. Then she'dsee the dark, she'd see the far points of light—

"STOP!" She howled in pain. He kept pushing. She was out of room.

She didn't bend up.

He shoved—and she splintered. Bone snapping, cartilage tearing, he could see inside her thin body as things broke and ruptured.

He didn't know what to do.

And for several long, long seconds—he couldn't remember what was happening. The world seemed to bend wrong, rippling up-but-not-north and down-but-not-south, and his head swam and his vision blurred, and he couldn't remember.

Her skin fractured and peeled off, strand after strand. He’d seen grotesque injuries and rotting bodies before—he’d been in hospitals and seen through the bandages, been in graveyards and seen into the coffins, unable not to see though the doors and walls and tombs. He’d seen the way the skin came off, the way it split into hairy filaments as it loosened from the body, bristly around injuries or sloughed off whole from the long dead. But he'd never seen dead skin curl like his mother's, loosely zig-zagging back and forth and wrapping into spirals like the centers of flowers. It filled the spaces between his fingertips, wrapped up his arms. He could shut his eye but he still saw it through his eyelid, still felt it tickling at the corners of his mouth. 

Irrationally, wildly, hysterically, watching his mother die, he wondered—when he died, when he was a corpse, when he rotted—when his body split open in half from his burst eye, as the labyrinth of his guts bloated and unwound and inverted themselves to spill in sick threads from his mouth, and his skin peeled free, layer by hairy layer, from his eyelid out—would his rotting golden skin curl like his mother's had?

He knew it would. He knew it would. He knew it would.

####

He woke to moonlight streaming through curls upon curls of golden skin dangling in his eye, choking him on rot.

He squeezed his eyes shut, batted the hair aside, and forced himself to breathe until the nausea subsided.

He hated how humans dreamt.

He decided he didn't want any more sleep tonight.

He dragged himself upright, shambled downstairs, and tried to ignore the coils of his internal organs spilling out of his head and dangling around his face.

He needed a drink.

####

Ford woke up standing over a bed and a body.

He couldn't identify the shape or size of the body under the sheets, due to how badly it was contorted and the way the dark pools of blood in the bedsheets distorted the shadows. All he could see was the head: a flash of a pale cheek turned away, and the unmistakeable Pines hair curls. The hair was matted with blood.

Ford's hands were coated in hot blood and cold blue flames. There was a nauseating metallic taste in his mouth and something thick and warm dripping down his chin.

He heard a quiet chuckle. He whipped around to face it—

And saw himself reflected in a triangular window, a gray shade. He was smiling so widely he could see moonlight glinting off his molars. His slitted eyes glowed a sickly yellow.

Ford woke up staring at the ceiling. He licked his lips; reassuringly dry. He held up his hands; clean.

He sighed.

Ford could roll over and go back to sleep. He'd gotten used to dreams like this decades ago; these days he hardly even had them. But he was already awake and irritated. He might as well pick up where he'd left his research at dinner time—do something that felt productive. He got up, fished a crumpled paper that said "Downstairs" out of his bedside stand and set it next to Stan's glasses, and crept out of the guest room to head for the vending machine.

Bill was in the kitchen.

Ford stopped in the next room, staring through the doorway. Bill was sitting in the dark, only his silhouette visible in the light through the window. He was hunched over the kitchen table, supported on his elbows, unmoving. Ford couldn't see Bill's reflection in the window. Not even his eyes.

Ford wondered what he dreamed about. Perhaps the thrill of possessing people.

He was half tempted to confront Bill—demand to know what he was up to—but, Ford told himself, there was nothing to confront Bill for. They'd given him permission to use the kitchen freely. Bill wasn't up to anything. It was well within his rights to sit silently at the table in the dark.

Ford just didn't like it.

He crept into the living room. Bill never noticed him.

####

Dipper divided the nightmares he'd been having since last summer into two categories: the Bill nightmares; and the Bipper nightmares—which were, in a way, also Bill nightmares.

The Bill nightmares were just his regular nightmares, except that Bill was also in them. For Dipper, regular nightmares were a mishmash of fears, insecurities, chaos, and random weirdness. It was natural that Bill, the most terrifying entity Dipper had ever met, occasionally guest starred in his dreams. The problem was that, since Bill actually could invade dreams and always brought chaos and random weirdness in his wake, it was that much harder for Dipper to realize he was dreaming rather than actually facing Bill—and, once he woke up, harder for him to reassure himself it really was only a dream.

(Mabel told him she had similar problems, and it wasn't even limited to nightmares. Sometimes, no matter how sweet or unthreatening her dream was—and sometimes because it was so sweet—their erratic scene-changing logic-breaking wish-making nature gave her the creeping sense that she was trapped back in Mabeland. Not often, she said. But occasionally, when Dipper couldn't sleep either, he could hear her wake herself repeating "—I wanna go back to reality—I want to go back—go back to the real world," and then meow herself back to sleep.)

On the other hand, the Bipper nightmares were like no dreams he'd ever had before.

They might start out as normal nightmares—dreaming of a near death experience, or a monster charging at him, or some humiliation too deep to endure further sleeping through—until he jolted awake. Or he'd think he'd jolted awake—in truth, he'd just woken up into another dream, so realistic he thought he was awake until he realized he was hovering over his bed, and the world looked hazy and false, and his body was still beneath the covers. Just like when Bill had ripped him free of his body.

The first time he'd had the Bipper nightmare, Dipper thought Bill had taken over him again, and that at any moment his body would open its eyes and laugh at him. When that didn't happen, he thought he'd died. He'd flown to Mabel's room, to his parents', to Waddles, to the neighbors' houses, trying desperately to get someone's attention—and when nothing worked, he returned to his still body in despair and waited there, sure that in a few hours his parents would come to get him for school and find him dead...

But then he'd woken up. For real, this time. And then he woke the rest of the house with his screaming.

He learned to cope with these nightmares, both the Bill ones and the Bipper ones. He talked about them with Mabel during the day or went to her for reassurance at night. Sometimes he called Ford, if he and Stan were in a time zone where they'd still be awake. (Ford said he'd had nightmares for years about Bill invading his dreams—and almost none of them had been real. He said that his visits from Bill were usually less chaotic than a normal dream. Bill liked his weirdness but he liked being the center of attention more; he liked to stage his dreams like a movie director, keeping a firm grip on the setting and the narrative flow, snapping from location to location and moment to moment with an artistry that natural dreams didn't have. The muddled mundanity of your average nightmare was beneath Bill.)

And Dipper learned to wait out his Bipper nightmares. Sometimes he wandered the hallways, but he found that engaging with the dream tended to prolong it; instead, if he stayed by his body and didn't do anything, eventually he'd drift back into deep sleep and wake back up. He started keeping a radio on at night—he could hear it in his sleep—and listening to the weird 3 a.m. broadcasts kept him entertained enough until he woke.

####

But since returning to Gravity Falls, Dipper had found a new way to deal with his nightmares:

Yelling at Bill about them.

Tonight, he was having his guilt-dream about his dad asking why he'd given up kickboxing; until the dream was interrupted by Bill emerging from the refrigerator to announce that Weirdmageddon was opening a second location in Piedmont and then throw a rabid skunk at Dipper's face. Dipper had woken up too angry to think straight, stomped to Bill's empty window seat, and then stomped downstairs.

He found Bill sitting in the kitchen in the dark, washing down a bag of cookies with a pack of hard cider and staring out at the night. Dipper stopped in the doorway. "You!"

Bill turned to give Dipper a bleary-eyed look. "Me?" 

"Stop messing with my dreams and stay out of my head!"

"Beg pardon?" Bill's eyelids were desynchronized as he slowly blinked. "I'm just..." He gestured vaguely around the kitchen with a mostly-empty cider can. "I am just—sitting here."

"You've been in my nightmares all year," Dipper said hotly, even as he was waking up enough to realize that Bill, down here in the kitchen, probably wasn't influencing his dreams. "So just—just..." This was stupid. "Cut it out, man."

"You've been dreaming about me? How sweet." Bill gave Dipper a mocking grin, propped his chin in his hand, propped his elbow on the table, actually missed putting his elbow on the table by at least six inches, and fell to the ground with a yelp.

Dipper stared tiredly at Bill cackling on the floor, and turned around and trudged upstairs.

Dipper found that, whenever he had nightmares about golden geometric apocalypses, it was reassuring to get an instant reminder that Bill had been nowhere near his head. Even if he thought Bill was laying on the "helpless human" act a little thick.

####

(I'm still recovering from Health Junk, so if you've got any comments, I'd deeply appreciate them now even more than I usually do. Thank you, y'all readers and commenters and friends are really keeping me going during this time of feeling like a pile of half-sentient gunk. 🙏✨)

[gothgirlmahi]

Stocking Stuffer

Pairing: Violent Night (David Harbour) Santa Claus x Reader

Summary: Santa calls you into his office for a private meeting.

Warnings: breeding kink, size kink, unprotected sex, role play, use of “good girl”

Word Count: 1.7K

This was not good. This was not good at all. Never in your life had you been so behind on toy making! This year was insane!

Things weren’t like this a century ago. You could do dolls and toy cars and all sorts of board games with ease. But the kids today? It was Xbox and PlayStation and games you had never even heard of. iPhones and Fortnite and whatever else. It was never ending! It was like Santa wanted to work you all to death!

There was no possible way to keep up with it and he should have known that. You’d been meticulously checking the date and the time crunch was killing you. Every second closer to Christmas was another second you were running behind. You would finish in time, there was no doubt about that. Given that you were the leader for your team, you had a lot of pressure on you. Santa expected his elves to be hard working and pumping out those presents constantly. Normally you all could deliver, but this was obviously no normal year!

He had to understand that, right?

Apparently not. At least that’s what you suspected when you were called from your work station. One of the head elves came to collect you while you were working diligently at your desk. You couldn’t understand what could be so important to tell you during work hours. Then he dropped the bomb that Santa wanted to see you personally.

Look. You had seen Santa plenty of times when he was giving speeches and instructions, but never alone. What if he was mad at you? Oh god, what if he fired you? Could you all even get fired? Maybe you’d been watching too many human TV shows. Whatever was going on, it had your palms sweaty and your heart racing.

He led you to Santa’s office and left. Leaving you to stare down those big red and white doors you had never been inside without others to accompany you. You supposed it was now or never so you knocked.

“Who is it?” he responded after a moment’s silence. You said your name and he made a noise in affirmation before the door was pulled open.

You drew in a breath in awe as you looked up at him.

Of course you’d seen Santa plenty of times but hardly ever got this close to him. It was funny. None of the interpretations ever seemed to do him any justice. He wasn’t just some chubby old man with a white beard. He was, to your own admission, a very attractive man. With a grey beard and pretty hair that you sometimes dreamed of raking your fingers through. And he was so big. Tall, you mean. You of course didn’t know how big he was in any other areas.

Of course not.

“Just who I wanted to see. Come in.” He moved aside to let you in the door. You walked in and he closed the door behind you.

You’d been in his office before but never really had the time to look around. It was filled with little knickknacks and decorations, lots of red and white decor, and candy canes hanging from nearly every surface possible.

He gestured for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk and you did, while he went and sat at his own chair behind the desk. The stern expression on his face did nothing to settle your unease.

“I hear your unit is behind this year. Do you care to explain?”

You were fully ready to grovel and beg. So you did.

“It’s been hard this year. You know, with gathering supplies and making the toys. I’ve never been late before! I’m certain we’ll have everything ready by Christmas Eve.”

He nodded, arms folded and a thoughtful look on his face.

“I hope you’re right. Everything must be ready on time. Wouldn’t it be tragic if we couldn’t deliver on our promises to the children? Imagine their sad faces.”

The thought of it made you want to cry. You’d never want to make a child sad! Your whole life revolved around creating things to make them happy!

“I’m sorry, Santa! We will have everything finished in time. We’ll do as much overtime as possible and get it done.”

He nodded before pressing his fingers to his temples, massaging them gently.

“This stress of this year has taken such a great toll on me. I’ve found myself in dire need of relief.”

Santa looked terribly stressed. You pushed forward in your chair, leaning over the desk.

“You shouldn’t feel so bad. None of this is your own fault. We’re all dealing with so many issues this year. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Well, there might be one thing. I was looking down in your section and you’re very productive. It’s just, that area isn’t great with stocking stuffers. We’ve had this problem with your section year after year and I think you need a demonstration.”

“A demonstration? On how to…make stocking stuffers?”

Santa shrugged folding his hands as he sat back in his chair.

“I was thinking more so a demonstration on getting stuffed.”

You blinked in confusion.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Santa gave you a smile and a nod.

“Stand up and I’m sure I can show you.”

You stood up and carefully eyed the man in front of you as he rounded the desk, coming to stand right behind you. When you went to turn around, he held his hands firmly on your shoulders to keep you from moving. He pressed a strong hand to the middle of your back, slowly pushing you down until your upper half was flat on his desk.

When you felt him press his hips against yours, your eyes widened in surprise.

“I think I get it now,” you said, waiting in anxious anticipation for what he was going to do to you.

“You always were a smart one. Now just relax.”

He pushed your skirt up so it bunched around your waist then you heard him fiddling with the zipper of his pants. He easily ripped your panties off of you and threw them somewhere in his office.

You let out a gasp as the head of his cock pressed through your wet folds. He pushed into you slowly until his hips met your ass. Both of you groaned once he bottomed out. Santa took a firm grip in the meat of your thighs and slowly pulled out just to go back in with a vicious thrust that ripped a scream from you. He took up an absolute maniacal rhythm that had you moaning with each meeting of your skin.

“I needed this,” he murmured. His voice sounded strained.

You pressed your cheek into the desk, face staring at the wall but body fully immersed in what he was doing to you. One particular thrust had your back arching towards him and your nails digging into the wood below you.

“Oh, is that it? Is that your spot?”

Santa gently set one of your legs up on the desk and pounded you, making a wet slapping noise that echoed through the room. The change in position also enabled him to hit that spot again and again and again until your eyes were rolling my back.

“Santa, please! Fuck me! Oh my god, fuck me!”

He groaned, shuddering a bit when your cunt squeezed around him.

“Call me Nick.”

His cock felt amazing inside you. Thick and hitting every good spot imaginable. We’re you drooling? Oh, that would be so embarrassing. But you could barely form a thought past the thick meat slamming into your little pussy.

“This tiny cunt feels so fucking good strangling my cock. Fuck, with a cunt like this, you’ve gotta be on the naughty list.”

“No, no,” you begged, “I’ve been so good.”

“Shh. I know you’ve been good. You’re always so good for me. This cunt is mine. Only mine. You’re always so fucking good for me.”

“I’ll be so good,” you but your lip as you felt yourself getting close to tumbling off the edge, “always good for you.”

“Mmhmm. Good girls cum when asked. Are you gonna cum for me, gorgeous?”

“I—“ you couldn’t get your reply out before he was reaching under both of you to roughly rub at your clit. Your legs shook as you creamed around him. You were fairly certain you felt a little trickle of liquid come out of you while he kept pounding you, prolonging your orgasm and making you go absolutely stupid on his dick.

“I’m gonna give you your present a little early, honey. Shit, I can’t last much longer.”

“Please,” was the only thing you could manage to murmur.

“Santa’s gonna give you something special only you can have. But it’s gonna take nine months to get.”

You squeezed around him even tighter after hearing that, pulling a strangled groan from him as he filled you with his warm cream. The feeling of being filled by him had you coming again, writhing around and shaking while he kept your hips in place. He came so much it was dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

When he finally pulled out, he stopped to press a kiss to your back. You were too exhausted to move.

“You were right,” he said, “I like the role play. It’s fun.”

“I told you. It’s nice to switch things up now and then,” you said, still with your cheek against the desk. He laughed and trailed his finger down your dripping sex, causing you to jolt a bit.

“As long as I get to fill you with baby batter, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Fuck, Nick! I told you to stop calling it baby batter! It’s weird!”

“It is baby batter. Isn’t that’s the whole point?”

“Yeah, but I mean…” you trailed off, pushing yourself off the desk with some help from your husband. You felt your combined fluids steadily leaking out of you and crossed your legs uncomfortably.

“We are kind of behind on production, though,” he murmured, leaning down to get closer to eye level with you. You stood on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Back to work for both of us then,” you said, fixing your skirt. He nodded with a smile.

“Back to work, Mrs. Claus.”

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 21

First / Previous / Next

Fen paced around the tiny AI Core room. Dreams had told her she was quite safe inside, but based on the noises she heard in the hall, she wasn't so sure. More than once she felt her ears pop with a swing in pressure, and once she swore she felt the gravity change.

After what felt like forever, the door hissed open, and an empty space suit stood in the door. "Here you go Fen, the nicest suit onboard. It used to belong to Captain Cooper, but she won't be needing it anymore." Dreams chuckled darkly. "Speaking of, is there anything of the crew's stuff you want? They're all dead, and I don't need human stuff. Food, valuables, weapons, whatever. Feel free to grab what you want on your way out. But, do get out."

"Uh, okay, thanks Dreams." The suit split down the chest and opened like a flower. Fen backed up and as her feet stepped inside the boots, the suit molded to her size and body. The suit closed behind her, and she felt a gust of conditioned air as the suit pressurized. "So Dreams, once I get my stuff, where do I go?"

"Oh, head down to the hangar, I've left a ship for you."

Fen made her way back to her room to collect her things. As she walked, she marveled at the destruction. Panels were bent and broken, there were scorch marks on the walls, and there were bodies everywhere. She tried not to look at them.

Most everyone hadn't even had a chance to get their weapons, let alone armor or a space suit. Some had small arms, but the vast majority of people were just in their uniforms, gunned down by Dreams without any knowledge of what happened.

Fen's room was untouched. She grabbed her bag and her rifle, and headed towards the hangar. Everywhere she went, she passed carnage. One floor had the air evacuated, everyone there unmarked by weapons; they had all suffocated. Another, the gravity was turned high and then reversed. Everyone had been slammed against the floor and ceiling and floor until nothing remained but a red paste covering the floor and ceiling. A Third floor had all of the fire doors down and when she peered into the windows built into the doors she found the compartments filled with water. The crew here had managed to drown on a starship.

"You like that one? I'm especially proud of the drowning." Dreams sounded excited to explain thing to Fen as she spoke through the suit comm. "I re-routed the water from the pools to the fireproof compartments. Everyone died confused!"

"It's uh... very creative." Fen suppressed a shudder. On the one hand, the Empire had shackled Dreams and had held her against her will for centuries. On the other, they had been nice to Fen, and hadn't done anything bad to her.

"But that's because of who you are Fen." She could almost hear Ma-ren speaking to her in her mind. "You look human. Don't forget Ellen, she wanted to beat you because of how you were raised. Don't give them too much sympathy because they were nice to you. Under different circumstances, they would have shot you dead and not even thought about it after."

It was still a lot to see. Fen sighed, and tried to compartmentalize it. Gord had taught her about compartmentalization when they were together. He'd tell her, "Sometimes you're going to see terrible things, feel awful feelings, and still have to perform at your best. You can compartmentalize those feelings, those memories. Put them aside for later."

Fen put it out of her mind, and reached the bottom of the ship. "Dreams? Where is the armory?"

Dream's laugh was manic. "Now we're talking! I was hoping you weren't going to squander this opportunity! The armory and magazine are next to the hangar. You're on the right path. Don't worry about locked doors, you're the only BI left alive now, I've opened them all. You need some cash? I have control over everyone's bank accounts. I can toss a few million Stars your way before you leave too. I don't need it."

Fen paused. That felt like stealing from the dead, but it's not like they needed it anymore. It's not like she didn't need money. "Sure, Dreams, hook me up."

Fen reached the bottom deck and walked past the large open doors of the hangar, and finally her curiosity got the better of her. "What about the other two supers?"

"Oh, I haven't shot them yet. They honestly haven't even noticed anything is wrong. I kept all the bodies inside and have been spoofing comms with them. I'll let you get out of here, then I'll open up."

"Don't wait on my account Dreams, go nuts."

Another dark chuckle. "Oh you wouldn't say that if you knew what I had planned. Believe me when I say it'll be better that you're a few million kilometers away when I get started."

Fen reached the armory and just stood in the doorway for a moment. There were more guns here than she had ever seen in her life. It seemed like Dreams was stocked to give every single person down to the cooks and janitors a battle rifle. Dreams had wheeled a little electric cart by the door, and it chirped happily. Fen walked down the isles, picking out rifles of all shapes and sizes, pistols, submachineguns, even shotguns and scoped rifles and placed them in the cart as it followed behind her.

All in all, Fen wound up taking many cart loads of weapons and ammunition from Dreams, as well as a copy of her entire matter printer database, a few million Stars and most of her easy to grab food. It took most of a day to get things down to the hold - especially as Fen avoided the more grisly floors. Luckily, most everything was in the lower levels, and she didn't have to go roaming across the whole thing to find what was worth taking.

When she was finished collecting things, Dreams had saved something special for her. There was an entire frigate in her hold, something that Dreams was actually ferrying back to the Sol system. "It's a joint project between Sol and K'lax! Isn't it neat?" The brand new frigate gleamed in the sharp light of the massive hangar. It was a matte blue color, practically the color of space itself. Fen had a hard time finding the corners and edges, it seemed to blend into whatever space it occupied. Easily taller than the apartment complex she grew up in it was small for a starship, but still the largest thing that was ever 'hers.'

"It's amazing Dreams, are you sure I can have it?" Fen walked up to the ramp at the bottom and peered in. It smelled of new electronics and there was still plastic on the floor.

"What would I do with it, Fen? I'm already a Starship. It doesn't have an AI core, so I can't even wear it. It'll be wasted if it stays aboard, and since you're the only BI left, why don't you take it. Between the frigate, the Stars and the weapons, I figure I have you set up to run your own little mercenary group. It's set up for single operator use - though it'll work better when you have a crew - and I made sure the tanks are full, the reactors hot and the printable mass loaded."

Fen stood outside the frigate and watched as the little carts wheeled 'her' new stuff aboard. "I'm not ungrateful Dreams, but... why?"

"Fenchurch Whitehorse if I'm anything, I am angry. I'm angry at what happened to me, I'm angry at the state of the galaxy, I'm angry at what has happened to the humans I used to love so much. In you, I see that spark of old humanity. I see something I haven't thought about in a long time."

"I feel hopeful when I see you."

Fen didn't say anything lest she ruin the moment. "Fen, I know a lot about you. More than you know yourself, probably. You're more important than you realize. Not only that but, without any prodding or offers of reward you freed me. You risked your own life to try and save mine, even tough we were both captured by the Human Empire. It would have been easy to just walk by the AI Core and pretend you didn't see it, or assume it was empty. Instead you snuck in and freed me. I'd say that means you deserve a chance."

The last cart wheeled off the frigate. "Okay Fen, you're loaded up. I also transferred the keys and the IFF to you. This ship is yours, free, clear and legally. You can dock at any station, planet or colony - even Imperial ones - and there is nothing they can do to strip ownership from you. Go, and flourish. I believe in you."

The corners of Fen's eyes were wet, and she wiped them on the convenient pad in her suit. "Thanks Dreams. I hope to see you again under happier circumstances."

"I can promise you Fen, you won't. Say hi to Gord for me when you see him again." Dreams cut the audio and the door to the rest of the ship rolled shut with finality. Fen climbed aboard her new ship, and Dreams guided her out.

Up on the Command Deck, Fen sat in the command chair. Dreams was correct it was set up for single operator use, but clearly it was hobbled. She could set a destination and that was about it. She was going to have to hire a crew if she was going to do anything other than float. She saw that the computer was preset to take her to K'lax so she pressed the button to execute the orders, and felt the pressure increase as the drive lit to take her across the system.

Ten minutes later, she received a text only message from Dreams. "Turn around and you'll see a show." Fen activated the rear cameras and watched.

The Dreams of Hyacinth, a Super Dreadnought more than six kilometers long flashed the pure white light of a wormhole link. It appeared next to the other super, and then flashed again. Now it was next to the third super. It flashed between the two faster than she thought possible. Each time Dreams flashed next to the ship, the automatic station-keeping system slid the ship away from Dreams and towards each other. Dreams did this four more times - for a total of eight links until the ships were almost ready to collide. Then, she linked above the two and...

Dreams had overloaded all of her reactors. There was a white flash, like a wormhole link, but instead of being over in a flash, it grew in intensity, spreading larger and larger, black tentacles of energy on the edges of space. It was so bright that the frigate dimmed the video feed once, and then again. In the space of less than five minutes, all three ships were utterly destroyed. Nothing remained.

Fen turned off the rear cameras and sat in silence for a moment. She wondered if that's what Dreams meant by 'going home.'

The radio crackled to life. "Unknown ship, identify yourself or be fired upon! I repeat, identify yourself or be fired upon!" The voice was speaking Colonic, but had a thick K'laxi accent.

[graciegoeskrazy]

“and i do make art ty very much”

Matty Healy x Teen!Daughter!reader + lil bit of george

a/n: random thought the popped in my head. enjoy this cute lil blurb :)

As soon as you walked in the door you were expecting to follow your usual routine - burst through the door announcing your presence, grab a snack, tell your dad all the details and mundane facts about your day, then go upstairs and hide for awhile until your dad yells at you to do your homework or makes you come downstairs to get dinner. Today, however, that didn't exactly go to plan.

“I’m Home!” You said, but instead of being greeted my your dad or uncles, you were met with silence. “Hello?”

Nothing.

“Dad? George? You here?” You didn't worry and just headed up to your room deciding to shoot a text to your dad to make sure he wasn't dead. Before you could hit send though, you found your father when you walked into your room.

“Jeez! You scared me!” You yelled.

Instead of a ‘sorry’ or ‘oh my bad’ he kept a straight face when asked, “What’s this?”

It took you a second to register exactly what he was worrying about, but eventually you realized it was your journal. Like your father, you kept at least 2 journals going at the same time. You however had 3. One for your usual ‘dear diary, blah blah blah’, one for the stuff your therapist makes you write, and another for the lyrics and poems you jot down in your spare time. And that just so happened to be the one your father held in his hands.

“Something you weren’t supposed to find.” You shyly replied.

You weren't mad at your father one bit. You tell him everything anyways, it’s like there isnt even a need for a diary because he a human version of one. Filled with all the knowledge of your hopes, dreams, stupid habits, and crushes. This, however, happened to be one of the rare things you kept from your father.

He looked at the pages again, “When did you make this?”

You quickly diverted the conversation. “Why are you going through my journal!?”

“I was cleaning.” He replied.

“You never clean.” You said, looking at him quizzically.

He shrugged and smiled. “You’re right. George told me you got high the other day and I was looking for drugs.”

“Ugh! That bitch!” You said, throwing your backpack on the ground.

“But screw that- this is really good! When did you make this?”

“That one was like a year ago? I don’t know.” You said crossing your arms, suddenly feeling a bit insecure.

“Can you stop reading my private feelings and thoughts please?” You tried to grab the book out of your dad's hands but he pulled it away before you had the chance.

“Is this one about your crush on June?” He said tauntingly.

“Dad!”

“Awe! You’re in love!”

You finally grabbed the book from him and held it tight to your chest.

“Why did you never tell me about this?” he asked.

“Because I didn't want to embarrass myself. Duh.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dad, you're a Grammy-nominated musician and I’m an angsty teenager who writes about teenage love. There’s a fine line and I don't want to embarrass myself by crossing it.”

“Darling, those were good! Hell, those are fucking great!”

“Thanks?”

After an awkward silence he continued.

“You should record those-”

“No-”

“It would be really good-”

“Get out-”

“I know some peopleeee.” He said smiling.

“Get out!”

He smiled and left the room, not before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

When he got downstairs, he was greeted by George in the kitchen. “What was happening up there?”

Matty got a drink from the fridge, “My baby is a songwriter.”

“Hm?” George asked.

“She wrote lyrics, George. And they're good too.”

George looked confused. Matty continued,

“We need to get those songs she wrote and make her record them.”

“Mate, you can’t force your daughter into the business.”

“Yeah, you’re right…”

“But I’m her uncle so it’s okay if I do it.”

Matty just laughed.