#stories about beings that dearly wish to become human are so wonderful to me

[lunarwednesday]

"But in my eyes, Furina's humanity was what made her perfect. She was perfectly human in every way...the person I always wanted to be."

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

”If I could draw I’d draw fanarts!”

“If I could draw I’d draw my OCs”

“If I could paint I’d paint all the ideas in my head and become rich!”

If I could draw and paint I would completely erase this portrait of J.K Rowling in a book from my childhood, and draw a picture of Imane Khelif there instead.

This is my copy and it’s in Swedish, btw.

The original title of this book is Good Night Stories For Rebel Girls 2. It’s the second book out of two. This is the first one.

These two books were my childhood. Do you have any idea how empowering it is for a young girl like me, feeling alone in a world that seems to become crueller by the day, a girl who feels unheard by adults, to read these kind of books? I have plenty other books like these, too! These were my two favourites.

Two books filled with strong, powerful and cool women who have changed the world in one way or another! Reading these books inspired me so, so much as a little girl. I couldn’t get enough of these two-page stories about women who were brave and stood up for what was right. Women from so many different countries and backgrounds. It was beautiful. These books were how I found out about most of my biggest idols today: Malala Yousafzai, Greta Thunberg, Anne Frank, Emma Watson etc.

As I said, these books are my childhood. Another series of books that played a huge part of my childhood are the Harry Potter books.

As a little kid, I had no idea about who Joanne truly was. All I knew was that she was an author, and I dreamed about becoming an author one day. And Joanne had written one of my favourite series of all time. Of course I looked up to her! I especially remember looking at the drawing of her in Good Night Stories For Rebel Girls 2, admiring it very much.

I have grown up. I still love Harry Potter, the series played a massive role in my childhood and it’s been there to comfort me in my hardest times. But I do not support the author, now that I’ve heard about and read the tweets she has made about trans women. It’s disgusting, what she’s said about trans women in the past, what she still says, and what she’s tweeted about Imane Khelif recently… I’ve knows for years now what she’s all about.

It hurts, you know. As a member of the LGBTQIA+ community, it hurts to know that the series I love so dearly, the series that always makes me feel better, is written by a person who has no respect whatsoever towards half of my friend group and other trans people. None. She is a horrible human being, and it hurts to know that.

Knowing that her face, her name and her story is written in yet another book in my bookshelf, that her presence is constant in my room, makes me sick to my stomach and has done so for a long time now. Ever since I remembered a while back that she’s in this book, this wonderful book about women who have made the world a better place and continue fighting daily, women I look up to so much… I’ve had this sick feeling in my stomach, because she does not belong in this book. She isn’t a feminist. She excludes trans women from womanhood and accuses cis women of being trans or intersex based on their strength and talent in sports. Based on a supposed high level of testosterone? Joanne is cruel, and she’s rude, and she is not a person kids should be taught to look up to. Not after all she’s done.

Earlier today, I was thinking about this again. And as so many times before, I wished that I myself was a talented artist. This is something I’ve thought about before, but for different reasons. I’ve always wished I could draw portraits and pretty paintings. Fanarts for my favourite ships that I can only picture in my head but not transfer to paper. I’ve always loved drawing, but I’ve never been too good at it. Now I desperately wish that I was.

Because if I was a talented artist, I would grab my pens and paint and brushes, and I would cover up the portrait of J. K Rowling in my book. I would make a whole new portrait in its place, a portrait of another woman I look up to, a strong and beautiful and brave woman. A women called Imane Khelif.

And I’d get rid of the page full of facts and stories about Rowling, I’d tear it apart and throw it away and replace it with the story of Imane Khelif, the one woman Rowling cannot tolerate because of her talent for boxing. I can write. I can’t draw, but I can write. I so wish I could do both right now, because if I truly could trust myself with fully remaking two book pages, I would do it without hesitation.

Imane Khelif’s story deserves to be told. J.K Rowling’s story deserves to be told with seriousness, and grief because of what she has become. This woman could have been a successful author and a beloved feminist, and she could have left it at that. Sadly, she chose a path of hatred and cyber bullying. She chose this journey for herself, and I am sorry for everyone who got their childhood ruined because of it. Heck, I’m sorry for her even, but I still know in my heart that she has no excuses for what she has done. I despise her.

Kids need to be warned about TERFs, not trans women.

Collage made by @thingsmk1120sayz (I will delete it immediately if you ask me to, love <3)

I stand by Imane Khelif. I stand by the girls who grew up to be strong and wonderful women, the women who made their childhood dreams reality and won medals in the Olympics, the women who became successful artists, the women who reached their goals and ended up writing bestseller books loved by generations.

I stand by them, and I love them. But I feel nothing but hatred and pity towards J. K Rowling. Fuck her twisted beliefs. Much love to Imane Khelif!

Edit: I would like to clarify, Good Night Stories For Rebel Girls 2 was released 2017. I have no idea when Joanne started spreading her transphobic views on social media. Feel free to educate me on reblogs and comments! Anyways, I don’t think that the authors of this book, Elena Favilli and Francesca Cavallo, meant to cause any harm by putting Rowling in their book. Either this was before Rowling started tweeting transphobic things, or the authors didn’t know about her being a TERF (I doubt the latter). So please don’t send any hate to these wonderful authors! If you want to send them questions regarding their books, I’m pretty sure you’re free to do so! xx

[acourtofserpents]

This is such a fascinating game - I wish the demo was longer, it's very immersive and intriguing!

I need to thank you dearly for one thing, too. I love all sorts of isekai / "transported to another world" stories, but my biggest trigger in fiction ever (to the point of having panic attacks if that happens) are stories of that kind where the protagonist goes back to their birth world at the end. The fact the very intro post mentions that "(...) shall you decide to stay or escape." is so nice to me. That means I can actually read this story without freaking out. Usually I have to ask the author if they are planning for a route where the MC stays in the other world, but some authors see it as fishing for spoilers and don't answer, sadly. Yes, I know it's a weird thing to thank you about, but I'm very grateful! I do have a small question about that, if you're willing to answer. Will this be a story where we're able to decide early on if the MC wants to stay or try to escape, or will the MC be "undecided by default". I tend to prefer to be able to make a choice fast of course, but I'm sure it'll be well written regardless! Or well, maybe the situation would not really lead to any of these alternatives at all... That aside, for the ROs, I'm most interested in the prince (though of course, I have to exclude the human RO anyway considering the direction I want to take my MC in), but I think it's interesting... I somehow consider the prince to be less awful than the other fae ROs? Well, he's a jerk, but he's a jerk to everyone, clearly. It doesn't seem like his behavior is focused only on the MC - he just has an awful personality (and I'm saying that lovingly) overall.

Oh and a question about Caerus. Again, this might be spoilery so feel free to ignore it. I'm assuming we WILL get opportunities to get closer to him and what not... But what will dad think about MC's relationship with (insert chosen RO), once the relationship actually starts or well, once it becomes clear there is something between the two? Because I feel like he may have strong opinions, like wondering if MC, as a human, will do the same their mother did and "betray" their fae partner after a while, or would he on the other hand have more trust in the MC since he raised them? And if the RO is human, would he on the other hand be judgmental of that thinking the child he raised has bad taste haha? An well, does his opinion depend on his relationship with the MC, too?

Sorry for the long ask and multiple questions! Thanks for indulging me, and have a great day!

hi hi lovely!! first, thank you so so much for all the love and kind words!! i’m so extremely happy you’re enjoying the story, these kind of messages are really my biggest motivators <33

now, to answer your questions,, i’m not too sure about when the final and ultimate decision will take place, as i’m planning quite a few different routes that MC could take. so far, i don’t see that decision being made anytime soon, as i’m not planning to add it to chapter 2. MC will have to start thinking about it, but a permanent decision won’t be made so early, sorry!!

hehe, you can say Ryzan has an awful personality unlovingly (that’s definitely not a word, oopsie) too, i don’t mind!! i think it all depends on how you perceive all of them, they all have their faults, some of them maybe more than others.

about Caerus, it’s not spoilers, don’t worry!! if MC’s careful, Caerus won’t know about the relationship until much later. that also depends on who MC chooses to romance. i think he’ll be very VERY very surprised to know that MC is involved with a Fae. he doesn’t have a problem with them, per se, but it’ll just be very surprising to see MC kissing someone they claimed to hate for their whole life, and vice versa. now, with Silos, Caerus almost expects some kind of relationship (even if it’s just platonic friendship) to bloom between them and MC. the way he’ll treat MC and their relationship with anyone definitely depends a lot on their own relationship!!

[tartagluvr]

la jolla

let me be real for a second during a manic episode i listened to la jolla for eight hours on repeat and this piece came out of it. i wish the story had more to do with the actual song, considering i love it so dearly. oh well! manic aether strikes again. i do hope you enjoy.

warnings: angst. like 3% comfort. setting is post exchange program

word count: 1.4k

blinking eyes into starlit skies.

you can't remember the last time the lights were this bright, this full. wracking your tired brain, the answer does not find you. rain is softly heard somewhere unknown, as the light becomes harsher.

"mc…?" your name, barely above a whisper. it would have gone completely unheard if not for your longing to hear that one single voice again. the voice did not utter another sound to you.

lights becoming dimmer, you adjust to the surroundings that start to seem familiar. a bedroom, some small decorations, the cold air of your own room.

in the human world, that is.

realizing now that you were asleep, your dry eyes flitter to the window sill. upon it sits five letters, all sat perfectly against each other. the red wax seals seem to mock you as you sit up. home doesn't feel like home today. not one single bit, after the hazy flashes of your dream come back to you.

his hands. your hair, interlocked with them. soft, sweet laughter between the sheets. that smell of his worn leather jacket- one you realize you are starting to forget now. with a rub of your eyes the dreams fall away into your private folder, tucked deep in your mind. no use thinking about that any longer.

the red wax catches your eye once more.

it has been six months since the depths of hell wished you adieu. two unforgiving months since you got the last letter from…him.

after washing your face and trying to scrub away the emotions, you sit down on the bed once more. it is only now that you realize there is only warm light coming through the shutters, signaling you had slept an entire day away again. to confirm, your phone screen laughs at you as you read '6 PM'. sleeping at night has been a trial of events lately, especially with all of the newfound loneliness settling in your bones. this sadness and anger had been weighing you down for months, the fear of abandonment taking refuge in your mind.

a shaking hand reaches for the letters.

the first was only a week after your departure. telling you pretty little lines of 'i miss you' and 'i want to see you again'. the second letter three weeks after. it held more emotion, as if he were feeling the loneliness faster than you. the third coming one month and a week exactly, felt detached. the fourth, two months, even more so. it seemed as if he were trying to cope with you being gone, and you hadn't caught up to that chapter yet. the fifth falling upon your doorstep on four months...short. sweet, held pretty little lines once again that reignited your flame. but it was no candle in comparison to the forest fire that had overtaken you already.

and no new letter ever arrived to fan out the flames.

multiple times you had considered on drunken nights to just call him- your D.D.D still worked, you knew this because solomon had cast some magic on it to keep you in touch with those peculiar seven. none of them were aware of this, and out of pure fear you had never reached out. maybe a mistake on your part. it seemed they are afraid to reach out too.

cutting through the bitter silence is a cellphone ring. flying out of your seat on the bed your head spins for just a moment, wondering which phone exactly it is that is receiving a call. unfortunately or maybe fortunately for your poor heart, it is the real cellphone and not your D.D.D. the name of your closest friend flashes the screen, one you haven't seen in quite a few weeks.

you watch as it ends. watch as the voicemail comes in. why do you not move?

maybe the fear and excitement that you were finally getting contact from the other world held you frozen in that moment. maybe the utter disappointment yet expectation when it was not from them was what held you there. either way, your body lays back down.

the once beautiful to you pact mark comes into vision. it is an array of golden and white wrapped around your left hand, trailing up the pinky finger. he had always said it was like a promise. a promise to not do what he is doing at this exact moment, it seems. clenching your fist, the skin around the markings begin to turn pinkish from pressure. it looks almost ugly to you now. a constant reminder that you can't have him, as if he were never yours.

carefully, like a child in the night, you speak.

"you never taught me how to use this stupid thing," as soon as your own voice hits your ears, you falter. just for a moment, the eyes your mother used to say were shining glaze over. in a poor attempt to ignore it, you let them close. and so you continue.

"i...miss you. god, i miss you more than the tide misses the shore." this time you laugh. who are you even speaking to? no one can hear you but yourself and yet you feel like just encapsulating it all into words finally. "you promised me. you promised you wouldn't forget me and i…" the silence is jarring. "i feel lied to, okay? i feel embarrassed." with your eyes closed the world seems to spin in the darkness, the comforting idea of just going back to sleep washing you clean.

"i never stopped loving you, you know? i don't think i will ever be able to…" the breath in your chest begins to even out. sleep does actually sound really good, even considering the fact you have just dreamt away an entire day of your life. who cares, nothing matters anymore. "yea," your voice mirrors your thoughts. "nothing matters anymore."

again this time, but in some sense more realistic, hands in your hair. sharp pain in your left wrist, causing you to roll onto your side on your bed. there is the far away feeling of a blanket being placed atop your body, though it feels too much like a dream for you to care. faint voices, murmurs above the heartbeat slowing in your chest.

"i'm sorry,"

dear lord, you mumble to yourself in tired frustration. not this again, your mind says. he always has a way of infiltrating your most peaceful moments, and filling them with anxiety.

"ya know i never stopped either...yea?" a deep humming leaves your lips. he always says the right things when its this dream version of him, running to you and making things alright again. that is, until you wake and the cycle of abandonment resets. still, that damned voice of his fills your ears. "i don't know how to go about this, treasure." "don't call me that," you cut off his dreamlike voice. "m' not your treasure anymore, not after you lost the map." unsettling silence fills your ears after you finish. never in these awful dreams of him had you spoke your true feelings, did you mess it up somehow? does dream him not know how to respond to your emotions?

"yea," he laughs. it would almost be comforting if it were real. "guess i did lose the map. but im lookin real hard for it right now, so i can find ya again." a hand squeezes yours, yet all you see is still the darkness of your own eyelids. he really does always have those witty one liners ready, combating every poetic sentence you speak. someone get this guy a pen you think, get him in the new york times or something. the silence rings in your ears once again, his voice no longer filling the space. "can i get a different dream? this ones too sad, feels too real." nothing. afraid for some subconscious reason, you open your eyes.

nothing. as expected.

of course it was just a fantasy, the only person you wish to see right now wouldn't just appear out of thin air.

begrudgingly, and half annoyed he isn't actually there, you grab the plush of little D he once bought you and iron grip that poor thing to your chest. with a sigh and a little shuffle around, you close your eyes again. hoping, praying even, that this dream may be a little less bittersweet.

"goodnight," you say outloud.

and as your emotional exhaustion finally sends you into a nice dream for once, that damned voice answers your cries. "g'night, treasure."

[dreamii-yume]

@shikigamiuwu said :

"So y/n is a sex slave that Lilia brought for his son for Silvers birthday ( let’s just say that this is a medieval ages idea setup), Since Lilia know that Y/N is Silver totally type of girl, decided to brought it and gift it to her. So Lilia dress Y/N in a sexy and expensive lingerie and give him to Silver became just like the First one infatuated to Y/N and was really possessive to Y/N, Silver will go to lengths of beheading the person who touch her or help her escape from his grasp. (Lilia just supporting his son and helping him clean the mess and train her darling). You can put spicy stuff more into it if you want."

AGAIN. This plot too has so much potential to be a Sinfic _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): im crying—

Warnings : Dub-Con | Slavery | Master-Slave Relationship

Since the Valley of Thorns is essentially a place where magic is everything, I would presume that a human who do not possess a knack of magic is treated as the lowest of the low.

The man that bought you was strange, a unique multi-colored hairstyle and his fangs were sharp underneath that mischievous smile. He says he has a lonely son who had been eyeing you for a while now, but you have no knowledge of this “son” he speaks of. But this youthful-looking adult seemed like a big deal, considering how your employer immediately sold you off without further explanations. Before you knew it, you were placed in a carriage with the strange young man, giggling about how happy you would make his son to be.

This “son” of his was named Silver.

One look at him and it was immediate to you that they were unrelated by blood. For one thing, Silver seems to be a human whilst that strange man who bought you was not, he was a fairy of all things. They sure do seem like they share the same fatherly bond as strong as any other family though, it almost made you envious. “Lilia”, the name of the man who bought you, had only issued one order for you to follow, the only request that he asked of you.

“Try and get along with Silver if you will, (Y/N). Keep him happy at all times.”

You were a slave, but you were brought as a gift to keep Silver company during his birthday. When you first met him, he was quiet and polite, a true gentleman that made you feel like you were the princess and he was your knight. Perhaps it was the fact that this was the first time that you have been given this level of respect in your life that it made you feel lost on what to do. But Silver never minded your awkwardness, he sticks to you like a lost puppy when it should be you who needed to act like that. He was as strange as his adoptive father, in the most opposite of ways.

Lilia told you that Silver had been “eyeing” you for a while now, that’s the whole reason why he specifically bought you in the first place, because you were already a familiar face to him. You were confused at first, but now that you’re actually here, serving Silver in actuality, you began to understand what he means. He acts way too familiar with you, often interacting with you that you don’t think is befitting for a master to do with his slave. He follows you around like a lost puppy, asking how your day was, and even shows you quite the affection sometimes. He doesn’t show too much emotions himself, but there’s instances of assertiveness whenever he’s with you that you just can’t help but notice.

Silver...doesn’t really let you leave out of his sight, majority of all the times, not that you’re allowed to anyways. Everything that you needed to do in private must be relayed to him or else he’ll come rushing in panic the moment he finds you not by his side anymore. It’s gotten worse to the point that you were not allowed to sleep on your own bed anymore or even take a bath by yourself. You don’t get lucky when he’s asleep either, you’d think he’s a deep sleeper but as one of the personal guards of the young master of the Valley of Thorns, his strength doesn’t falter even when he had closed his eyes for the night. One little movement you make away from him always ends up with him growling in his sleep and in instant, his arms tightly wrapped around you in a suffocating manner.

“Listen to me...” He told you one night, his head laying on your lap as he reached out his hand to caress your cheek. His touch was gentle and warm yet, his expression was stern and serious, the entire opposite to show you how much you needed to pay attention to the next words that will come out of his mouth. “You’re not allowed to treat others like this, do you get it? I should be the only one occupying your mind.”

“...Like you are to mine.” He started saying possessive things like that in just a span of a few weeks, you don’t quite understand what he means the first time but you nod anyways. He always smiles when you agree with him before, satisfied with your answer but you did not expect him to sit up from his position and leaned closer to your face this time. It was by then that you realized that he had initiated the first ever shared kiss between the two of you. He was gentle, yet impatient like he had been waiting for this moment for so long that he wanted to savor this moment for just as long.

His feelings for you became stronger ever since that day, but came with it was an even stronger possessive feeling for you. Both men and women are no longer allowed to come near you, god forbid what happens to those who even dare to look at you funny. He wasn’t a violent person, just passive-aggressive most of the time, but he has the power that can intimidate people away...Hell, he can even scare you in some degree. Long story-short, the only person that you were allowed to think of was him and him alone, there are no exceptions, but that goes the same for him too.

Then, came the day of his birth once again this year, it was such a busy yet joyous day for everyone. You provided him with a simple gift that you made yourself, in which Silver had rewarded you with a gentle, grateful smile like he always doees. “Thank you, I’ll treasure it dearly.” His words alone made you warm on the inside, something that you didn’t think was possible for a slave to feel. You were lucky to be able to serve a master like him, for you to be loved and treated like how a human being should be. Silver made you feel all those things, and for that you were just as grateful.

It almost feels like you belong just right in this family.

But as night came on the very same day, you wondered why Silver began leading you away from the crowd and into his room. He said he had a request, a wish that only you could fulfill, so you were more than happy to comply. But as he sat you down to the bed and began to kiss you like he had been doing quite often now; it began to feel as if something else was at play here. “I want you...” He whispered in a ragged, impatient breath, cheeks flushing as his hazy eyes stared intently back at you.

You didn’t say anything in return and just let him do what he wants, pinning you down by the bed as his kisses became even more erratic, messy, and passionate. You didn’t know what to feel, you were so used to the feeling of being treated normally, like a friend, like a family that you nearly forget what your status really is in the first place...You are a slave through and through, you are destined to perform these acts and please your master however they desire. But perhaps it was because you’ve become too spoiled due to how they treated you that you could feel your stomach churning from the feeling of being treated differently now.

You were...nervous.

As evident with how you began to breathe heavily from just with his touch alone and his hands exploring your body had you sweating bullets. You gulped as a response when he reached down where your clothed flower was, you were trembling. You are a slave, you should know by now that you are going to be treated like this at some point in your life, and yet you were scared. The realization and the true meaning of his words when your master said that he wanted you is coming down upon you at the same time. You were scared, terrified especially as he began to mark your neck and started pulling down on your clothes.

...But it was way too late to say quits at this point for you have already fallen, you’ve lost the moment you felt yourself at home in the comfort of this family. You have no choice but accept such fate, especially when Silver looked so ecstatic about it, mistaking your trembling body as an act of excitement. In the end, you should’ve known better than to get attached to your master like this, to empathize with him and allow your mind to create a soft spot for him. You can’t bear to see him enraged, disappointed, or even sad due to your rejection...It’s all too painful for you to witness.

...But maybe that was the point after all? The unexpected fate of the slave that belonged to Silver. A proof of how emotions can too be a lethal weapon to corrupt one’s mind.

[stray-kids-react]

Having surgery scars

Masterlist

...

Bang Chan

° You had no idea about Chan's crush on you, not many people did. The only person who knew about his crush was himself and his best friend Felix. You never thought he could love you due to how you saw yourself.

° You never wore cropped tops or anything that had the chance of rising up too high, even during the summer. He knew about your scar, but never saw it or knew how much you hated it.

° One day he was going to visit you by surprise, using the spare key you gave him to his advantage. You walked out in a cropped pajama shirt and underwear, not expecting your best friend/crush to be in the room.

° You scar was on your stomach, it was deep and noticeable to whoever walked by when itt wasn't hidden under clothes. You thought it gave off a negative impression, while Chan thought it gave you a unique beauty.

° Before you could cover yourself up, Chan gently embraced you in a hug. Calming your conscious, his fingers gently tracing over the scar. He placed multiple kisses to your head, asking you why you are so self conscious.

"Why can't you see how beautiful you are?"

Lee Know

° You were very clumsy all throughout your life, constantly falling and running into things. But the worst scenario bad to be when you fell and someone kicked you straight in the face.

° This led to you having to get surgery on your broken nose, leaving a scar on the right side of your bridge. It wasn't overly noticeable unless you were very close to your face, which Minho happened to be.

° He wondered how he never noticed this scar before, especially since he loves giving you kisses on the top of your nose. He knew you were clumsy, but wondered how your only scars ended up in such a specific place.

° Minho gently traced over the scars, finding it cute how you scrunch your nose immediately at the touch of his fingertips. Before you scrunched your nose, he noticed that your nose must've been stitched.

° He assumed you did this by accident, by either falling or hitting your face with something. Minho was surprised to hear that someone did this to you intentionally, wondering why someone would hurt you.

"I'm losing hope in humanity at this point."

Changbin

° You has multiple scars on your arms due to an accident you had as a child, this is why you'd constantly wear long sleeve outfits. Feeling that people may become worried or grossed out if they ever saw them.

° But after being asked out by Changbin, you knew you couldn't hide your scars from him for too much longer. He didn't seem suspicious of your long sleeves, until you spent your first summer together.

° You were both sweaty messes who were slumped in front of multiple fans, he was just in his boxers while you had no pants but still your long sleeve shirt. You were turning red by how hot you were becoming.

° He looked at you astonished as how you hadn't passed out from the heat yet, but Changbin was mostly worried since he knew it wouldn't be long til you hit that point. So he moved the fan closer to you.

° You had enough of the heat, telling him to look away as you took of your shirt. Turning your back to him once you said it was okay to look. Changbin noticed your arms even if you tried to hide them, they were gorgeous.

"You will always be a super model to me."

Hyunjin

° You had a few scars on your neck, and you were embarrassed to admit where they came from. Even if you were close to Hyunjin and loved him dearly, you still felt silly admitting it came from a drunk bar fight.

° Hyunjin was curious to where the scars came from, but didn't want to pressure you into telling him in case it was from something traumatic. So instead he would just press soft kisses along the scars.

° You felt bad when he admitted ab embarrassing story of his to you, since he was revealing a moment that stuck with him in a bad way. Yet you were still hiding your scar story from him as he waited patiently.

° His puppy eyes and sweet smile made its mark on your heart, the story leaving your mouth hesitantly. You couldn't look him in the eyes, your cheeks were bright red from embarrassment. You felt stupid.

° He stroked your heated cheeks, turning your head so you'd make eye contact. All of your worries washed away when there wasn't a hint of judgement in his eyes. Only pure love and adoration were held in them.

"I won't judge a simple drunken accident."

Han

° You had scars all over your hands from a burning accident with a kettle, you were self conscious of your hands. But tried to hide those feelings when around other people, not wanting to make them worried.

° But your best friend Jisung noticed when something bothered you, your shimmering eyes would dimmer whenever someone would give you nicknames like 'Freddy Kruger' or 'The human torch'.

° Jisung loved you, even if you were too dense to catch onto that fact. He loves you and wouldn't let someone make you feel like garbage, which led to him defending you countless times throughout the years.

° You had this one fake friend that always rubbed him the wrong way, she would go out of her way to make fun of you and praise herself. Calling you ugly, and getting grossed out whenever you touched something.

° During a game of truth or dare, she dared anyone in the room to hold hands with you. No one was stepping forward, until Jisung crawled over. He didn't just hold them, but he also placed kisses along your knuckles.

"I would've done this without the dare."

Felix

° You were never self conscious over the scars on your legs, if anything Felix usually had more self doubt moments about himself than you did about yourself. Which led to you giving this angel SO MUCH LOVE. (He deserves the world ngl)

° But when visiting Felix back stage, a make up artist mistook you as an idol and suggested finding something to cover your scars. This left an unfamiliar sting to your heart, never thinking it was an issue.

° You say in one of the chairs back stage, placing your coat over your legs as you awaited your boyfriend. It wasn't long before Stray Kids were ushered to where you were sitting, all of them hyped and energetic.

° Felix knew you well, immediately suspicious as to why you were hiding your legs. He had many scenarios in his head, you were cold, period problem, hiding a present, no underwear. His mind was racing.

° But when he saw your sad smile, he knew it had something to do with your scars. Someone must've said something insensitive, and they hurt his favorite person. This wasn't the first time this happened.

"Don't hide your beauty from me, lovely."

Seungmin

° Seungmin witnessed how you got a scar on your back, you were running to catch the bus when you tripped over your feet and rammed into the glass of the bus station waiting area. Causing many gashes to appear.

° He rushed you to the hospital, watched the stitches and bandages go on, helped you up from the bed, helped you go to sleep, gave you medication for the pain. He made sure you were in perfect condition.

° Seungmin felt terrible that you got so severely injured, even though he couldn't do anything to prevent it from happening. He still felt guilty, even when you reassured him that it will be okay and will just leave scars.

° Scars were left on your back, and everytime he witnessed them he felt a slight ping to his heart. Wishing he could've done something to help you, but he doesn't want to relive that moment so he tries to ignore it.

° You asked Seungmin for a massage after a long day, laying down on the couch as he sat on top of your legs. His hands traced down your scars, rubbing the oils onto them gently as if they still hurt you.

"You look like a cute little tiger cub."

Jeongin

° You sometimes forgot that you had scars on your thighs, only remembering them if you see them. They don't effect you in any way, especially since they came form a bike accident when you were very young.

° You and Jeongin both had long days at work, so you both wanted to have a relaxing bath together. This was one of the moments where you forgot about your scars, until Jeongin pointed them out.

° He was worried they were recent, concerned if someone did this or if you did it to yourself. But you calmed him down with a kiss, before explaining it was from an accident with a bike when you very young.

° Jeongin covered you in bubbles, before cupping water in his hands and washing them away. He started around your thighs, rubbing them lightly after they were washed off. He felt a bit bad for bringing them up.

° You did the same treatment for Jeongin, relaxing in his arms for a while until the water was beginning to cool. He dried you off, playfully whipping your thighs with the towel, giggling as you stared in shock.

"It's part of my drying treatment baby."

[eternal-armin]

the demon you summoned

BY THE GRACE OF THE UNHOLY BEINGS I LOVE I GOT IT BACK IM SO HAPPY

the reader sold their soul to the demon [char] to accompany them across turbulent lands to the great cities, rumored to have huge markets and incredible buildings. but reader is weak and cannot protect themselves, so they instill the help of otherworldly forces.

slight fantasy au heavily inspired by insomniac production's demon armin series (i love it so much i love their work hh)

maybe i should make this an actual drabble series

───── ❝ jean ❞ ─────

༻✦༺ you summoned a demon of pride to help not only with your state of mind, but with a venture across your lands ༻✦༺ you were very unhealthy and multiple people in your village suspected you wouldn't be able to make a journey to the larger cities ༻✦༺ this was essentially your last resort ༻✦༺ you were fully prepared for jean to reject your proposal; you were willing to give up your soul just to visit the cities for one day ༻✦༺ seeing how pure your soul was, jean was more than happy to escort you to your destination ༻✦༺ along the way, jean was compassionate to you ༻✦༺ he would ask you questions and you would respond. the more he knew about you, the more he rued the time when he would have to kill you to complete the pact ༻✦༺ the way that your eyes light up when you talk about your passions and your dream to leave the one place you ever knew ༻✦༺ the way you yawned and leaned against him when you began getting tired ༻✦༺ the smile you got whenever you saw something new and went to examine it ༻✦༺ the way you would look at him when he explained what it is, astounded by the knowledge that he held, and that he was honorable enough to share with you ༻✦༺ every time he protected you from any death or injury, you thanked him. jean was unused to it at first, scoffing. then it made his heart warm every time ༻✦༺ both of you were becoming more and more nervous along the way for very different reasons ༻✦༺ when you arrived, you hugged him and thanked him one last time ༻✦༺ jean wanted to cry ༻✦༺ you were so happy he couldn't possibly ruin this for you, ever. ༻✦༺ he pulled you aside for the time you thought you were going to die. instead, he hugged you, and told you how he felt

───── ❝ sasha ❞ ─────

༻✦༺ demon of greed and gluttony, famed to expose any hidden information and protect the operator if given a good enough offering ༻✦༺ you prepared an initial offering of the best foods your village had to offer, all of which were passed down through generations ༻✦༺ she was fairly impressed to see the spread specifically for her, and so was happy to devour the majority of it while you posed the rather simple pact; in exchange for your soul, sasha would protect you during the month-and-a-half-long journey across the country ༻✦༺ for the effort sasha would be putting in, she demanded a fair amount of food and your soul, depending on its condition ༻✦༺ your soul was far more than enough ༻✦༺ sasha dreamed of you becoming part of her retinue, always with her to provide her whatever food she could ever desire ༻✦༺ your cooking skills were certainly developed enough ༻✦༺ sasha was somewhat surprised by the sheer amount of dangers you were susceptible to ༻✦༺ it wasn't entirely surprising. she wasn't usually summoned for these types of things. in fact, she wasn't often summoned at all ༻✦༺ even though sasha was constantly asking you questions, you answered with eagerness and waited patiently if she had to explain something. it was rather impressive to her honestly ༻✦༺ you would make dinner for the two of you, and while sasha ate, you often fell asleep against her shoulder ༻✦༺ seeing how comfortable you were with her was heartwarming ༻✦༺ and she hated it (for the most part) ༻✦༺ when she asked why the big cities were so important to you, you were kind of surprised that she cared ༻✦༺ she was surprised she had asked in the first place ༻✦༺ but seeing the passion in your eyes, she couldn't possibly extinguish it ༻✦༺ at the same time she still needed that soul ༻✦༺ "[y/n]. i have an important proposition. please... hear me out. you have made me feel things demons were never meant to feel. i.. i love you. i love you and i need to have you. but i need to have your soul, too. i need both and the only way i can have both is if i turn you into a demon. you- you can stay here. stay on earth, live your life. but i need to love you. i don't think i'll ever love anyone else."

───── ❝ armin ❞ ─────

༻✦༺ the demon of knowledge and strategy ༻✦༺ it was a fair idea to summon armin for passage, but not for protection. however, cunning strategy can be the perfect defense ༻✦༺ that was your point of view going into the ritual ༻✦༺ he was surprised you asked for his assistance when you could've summoned a demon of treachery to protect you, however respected your reasoning ༻✦༺ in exchange for the beautiful soul you had, he vowed to protect you across the dangerous midlands, and provide you with knowledge as to what you should avoid aswell ༻✦༺ he was like an authority figure for a while. telling you what to do and what not to do, asking you questions in the voice of a principal ༻✦༺ but you always answered those questions with warmth ༻✦༺ "i've heard stories about the outside world, especially about the cities, and about all the different people and food and everything. i wanted to experience it, even if it was just once. just once is enough." ༻✦༺ to armin, it was both heartwarming and heartwrenching ༻✦༺ he knew he was going to be the one tearing you away from the dream you loved so dearly ༻✦༺ armin was a little softer with you from then on, turning into a good friend you trusted enough to fall asleep in his lap ༻✦༺ you were so excited you couldn't sleep for a few days beforehand ༻✦༺ you asked if you could hug him ༻✦༺ when he said yes, you didn't let go for hours, and you were smiling the whole time ༻✦༺ armin was in constant internal turmoil for the next few days until the lights were within reach ༻✦༺ he couldn't do anything to take you away from here ༻✦༺ and he knew he wouldn't live long if he devoured your soul ༻✦༺ "you can grow old here, live the life you dreamed of, with everything you've ever wanted. i will give you anything you ask. and when you die, i can turn you into a demon. we can live together. all you have to do is say 'i love you too.'"

───── ❝ levi ❞ ─────

༻✦༺ the demon of war and battle ༻✦༺ for physical protection or vengeance, one of the first demons people tend to go to ༻✦༺ you treated him more with respect than fawning over him in awe, which automatically had him respect you more in return ༻✦༺ you explained professionally what you needed from him, and what he would receive ༻✦༺ you offered him both your soul, and to serve eternally under him until the last white dwarf died ༻✦༺ seeing your desperation, and your willingness to give up everything you've ever had, certainly spiked his interest in your... pathetic case ༻✦༺ he accepted the pact and you left the village in the dead of night ༻✦༺ levi was rather impressed to see a human taking care of themself well. after all of the pacts he had been in, he had developed a strong sense that all humans were rather... stupid ༻✦༺ your poised exterior would fade slightly whenever you read the yokomerfe a ohemfo, the one book you had about the outside world. it was replaced with a beautiful, childlike wonder that he felt profoundly drawn to ༻✦༺ he would gaze at you the entire time you read by campfire light ༻✦༺ why the everloving hell is he finding a human beautiful in any capacity ༻✦༺ the more levi got to know you, the more intrigued he became ༻✦༺ not just in the life of a human, but in you specifically, and he had no idea why ༻✦༺ he realized why soon after but didn't want to accept it ༻✦༺ however, the way it made him feel...? he couldn't just forget it ༻✦༺ he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he took your life and your freedom from you for eternity ༻✦༺ so the day before you arrived, he brought it up ༻✦༺ "i do not wish to complete this pact. i wouldn't be able to live with myself if i had to take away your soul and make you a servant. i'm doing neither. you can live your human life, and you can choose whether to die and go to heaven, or to live forever as a demon by my side. if you go to heaven, i cannot exist without you by my side."

[gingermintpepper]

Gloxinia and Meliodas' First Meeting.

Time Period: Sometime during the Holy War

»»————-　♔　————-««

He remembers the Lord of the Faefolk.

Elizabeth lays limp in his arms.

The world explodes around him, typhoon’s cacophonous touch laying waste to the landscape but he does not feel the slice of the wind. Raindrops pierce through the clouds, bullets of water that seem to attack the thin veil of his cloak but he cares not for them. All he knows is the gellid flesh pressed against his chest, the drooping wings whose feathers seem to swell with water, bright white eyelashes slack from exhaustion, delicate eyebrows devoid of that determined furrow.

He’s running out of options, had gravely miscalculated during his battle with Calmadios and now was left without a place to return to, without a roof with which to weather this storm under. He had no place where Elizabeth could rest and recuperate from her wounds.

Even amongst the wanton destruction Meliodas had wrought in his time in the physical realm, the memory stands stark in the backdrop of his mind. A routine perimeter sweep after they had managed to gain new territory from beating back the Goddess Clan in the south. The normal agenda after such events - visiting the human nests, establishing the new order, weeding out dissenters and surviving pests, setting up scouts; it was all necessary yet monotonous activity so no one particularly fancied running such errands. It was only because Meliodas had drawn the short lot that he had to do the grunt work himself.

He hadn’t expected to find Fairies in the human nest, small creatures with their delicate wings healing humans and helping repair their odd little hutches. He’d not so much as heard about encounters with Fairies since coming into the realm - only knew of the whispers of the so-called Fairy King’s Forest and the great magic that was contained within. Meliodas thought it all nothing more than the mangled stories of drunk demons. He hadn’t felt any significant magic in the physical realm besides the heavy cloud that was the bestial Giant Clan and so he had dismissed even the notion of Fairies as such.

Yet there they were, smaller than even him in their diminutive stature, little faces scrunched in joy and determination even as the nest around them was razed and half ablaze.

And so Meliodas thought, ‘If the Fae are real, then surely their King is no illusion either.’

Zeldris must have heard by now he thinks. Would know that he made good on his word to abandon their people for the sake of Elizabeth and, ultimately, for ending this useless conflict.

Was he laughing at him? Was he gleefully watching his heinous older brother suffer for choosing a lover over the future of their clan only to immediately lose her to his pride? Meliodas alone had made the decision to defect while surrounded by his troops and three Commandments. His confidence in his strength had cost him dearly, but with Elizabeth at his back, he had felt invincible.

The rain continues to pour around them, but Meliodas cannot feel its freezing touch. Elizabeth’s warm blood is beginning to seep through her clothes. He doesn’t want to hold her tighter, fears that squeezing her will only make her bleed out faster. What good is his strength if he cannot help those most important to him in their times of need?

Lightning tears the sky asunder, thunder racing so close to its heel that the world around him seems to quake. He’ll have to land - he can’t risk attracting the bolts with Elizabeth in his grip. He is a demon but he can’t help but pray.

Prays that the chill descending on Elizabeth’s skin is only the rain. Prays that Zeldris finds some way to end the conflict too. Prays that he hasn’t ruined the only thing that could save Elizabeth’s life.

It surprises him even now. The ease with which the Fairies revealed the location of their home to him. Meliodas was quite aware that they knew him to be a demon. Even without knowledge of the rank or class that he occupied, his magic alone was nothing but purest, deepest black - yet, even as they trembled with their breaths caught in their throats and their little fingers halted in their actions, they dutifully told him what it was he wanted to know.

He remembers thinking then that the Fairies were a weak bunch - that they were a naive people who surely teetered on the brink of extinction for the easily exploitable trust they so readily gave.

Then came the fog.

He’s not surprised that even during this tempest, the fog is thick.

The last time he entered, the mist showed him illusions that confounded him for hours. The road disappeared beneath him, he’d ended up on a mountain and then at a lake and throughout it all quiet laughter echoed in his ear, disorienting him. Angering him.

Today there is only the quiet of deep, deep fog and the dampened splashing of rain as it struggles to cut through haze.

Meliodas lands on the muddy ground and takes off sprinting. He slips in an errant puddle, the ground slick and treacherous but even then he does not let go of Elizabeth. The air’s knocked from his lungs as he lands on his back. His shoulder burns but he cannot heal himself. He does not know what effect his miasma would have on Elizabeth in this weakened state. He does not want to find out. With trembling fingers, he adjusts her, frowns as the muscles beneath her fair skin refuse to twitch even when he lets his touch linger on the plush flesh of her lips, her cheek, the puncture in her stomach which gushes, gushes, and was he always able to glimpse the pink of her stomach? Was it wrong that he found that healthy colour as beautiful as the rest of her? But her skin is cold, cold too cold and her blood runs hot and Meliodas curses even the rains, roars his frustration so the lord of the lands knows that he is in no mood for games.

“Gloxinia!”

A part of him wondered if the Fairies had conned him; if they had only pretended to be shy things and had taken the opportunity to lead him to his death instead of guiding him to the Forest like they claimed they would. He’d think much higher of them if that was the case.

As it stands, Meliodas only wishes to tear the heads from their breakable bodies for the tasteless jest. Already, he’d found himself at the bottom of a lake, in which swimming in any direction only dragged him further down, a mountain trail which had led to him being apparently attacked by some manner of beast and a desert which stretched for so many hours that Meliodas had begun to sweat through the leathers of his gear. Terrible caterwauling the likes he had only heard in the deepest annals of the Underworld dogged his steps, and when the screeching stopped, the laughing began.

In each direction he was met with nothing but a wall of fog so thick that he could not even see the colour of his shoes and with each step without a discernible goal in sight, his resentment only grew.

And then, oddly, he caught the strong smell of flowers.

An unmistakable flash of red like spider lilies blooms in the corner of his periphery.

The tumultuous rain quiets to a mere whisper and the fog dissipates leaving only a dew laden field of bright, bright flowers.

The Fairy King is no less spectacular the second time around, celestial wings aglow with multicoloured magic which seems to glitter even in the midst of this gloomy, terrible squall. He stands with his hands at his side, thin lips pressed into a fine line. He is unarmed, alone. Unimpressed.

“You have returned,” he says dully and Meliodas does not have time to be offended at the lack of respect.

He tightens his grip on Elizabeth’s thigh, does his best to keep from snarling. “Heal her!”

A perfect eyebrow threatens to scrape scarlet hairline. “I beg your pardon?”

Meliodas growls, refuses to rest Elizabeth against the forest floor yet cannot risk jostling her for the sake of emphasis, “She hurt herself protecting me. I want you to heal her.”

Gloxinia’s neutral expression becomes a faintly bemused smile. “Is that a request or a threat, Demon Lord?”

Meliodas glares (and Elizabeth is growing cold in his grip, cold, cold, he is running out of time-) “Both, Fairy.”

The fog begins to creep in not unlike storm clouds on the placid horizon. The sound of thunder begins to descend upon them, red and purple flower buds disappearing beneath the cloak of the Fairy King’s enchanted mist. The fae smiles and it is a cold, cruel thing which sits comfortably on cherubic features, “Then I bid you farewell.”

Meliodas feels the wrath overflow, feels it in the way his vision goes black at the edges, in the way he can hear Elizabeth’s failing heartbeat. Anger at Gloxinia for refusing him, for dooming Elizabeth to death. Anger at himself for being unable to protect her, for failing her, “I will raze this forest to the ground, Gloxinia! Help her or I will slaughter every one of your kind!”

And that despicable Fairy only looks down at him, golden eyes more damning than any bolt of heavenly lightning, “It matters not, Demon Lord, she will already be dead.”

Then he is alone.

Elizabeth’s heartbeat grows so frail that Meliodas cannot hear it over the rain that has rushed in. Fog blinds his eyes, anger stifles his mind and the breaks and creaks in his bones finally overwhelm him. He crumples, mud splattering all over Elizabeth’s once white battle silks. She will die. She will die and it will have been his fault. Is this how Zeldris felt he wonders? This despair - this deep, gaping emptiness as the warmth of his lover cools to ice beneath his numb fingers.

Meliodas has never cried. It is a foreign concept to one as high born as he but his heart sinks to his stomach and threatens to slip free from his chest altogether. He bends his head, furrows his brows, squeezes Elizabeth’s flesh as he listens to her slowing heart.

‘Please,’ he wants to whisper. ‘Please, please have mercy on a sinner. Just this once.’

A pungent scent like foreign herbs fills his nose -

“[Droplet of Life]”

There is a glow, some bright unfathomable light and Meliodas sits up like he’s been burnt. Elizabeth’s heart suddenly beats in her chest, loud and melodic and it is the sweetest sound Meliodas has heard in years. He looks up to find cold eyes looking down on him, the Fairy King’s red hair spilling over his shoulders like reeds against some sheer cliffside.

He frowns, squints at Meliodas then appraises Elizabeth. Without so much as another word, he straightens himself and makes a gesture with two of his fingers. The fog lifts entirely, revealing a twisted up pathway between massive, primordial boughs. Flowers of every specie litter the ground preceding the entryway and Gloxinia turns his back on them. “Spend the night here,” he says and though Meliodas twitches at the unmistakable authority in that light voice, his gratitude and surprise renders him mute. “This storm will rage for four days and five nights. Regain your strength then leave.”

And then he disappears into the forest, leaving Meliodas and Elizabeth in the stillness of his eden.

[capitainelevi]

Togetherness

Prompt for @rivetra-week: Harmony

Words: 3481

There was no sign of her today. Levi wondered once again who she was and why she was haunting his dreams. He couldn`t even remember her name anymore. But Levi knew he missed her. He felt himself drifting to sleep and closed his eyes.

"Happy birthday, Levi!"

Gabi and her family entered Levi`s room with a small cake, but he didn`t seem to notice their presence. Levi was gazing out the window, and his favorite love song was playing on the phonograph in the background. Gabi and Falco gifted it to him on his birthday 39 years ago, and it was still in perfect condition. They noticed the way Levi`s eyes lit up when he saw one in a display window, but they knew he would never spend money on something other than tea leaves and cleaning products. With their allowances, they were able to buy it in time for his birthday, and Levi scolded them for wasting money on him. But they knew he loved the gesture.

Falco got close to him and slowly shook his shoulder. "Levi, did you hear us?"

Levi just stared at them. His dementia was getting worse every day. When they started to notice the first signs, they forced him to see a doctor. When they heard his diagnosis, Levi just told them to take him to a nursing home. But they prepared the guest bedroom for him the next day. Levi was family, and their daughter was more than ecstatic to have him live with them.

"It`s your birthday today. It`s Christmas day, do you remember?"

Levi`s sight focused on the window again, and they wondered if he forgot about their presence already.

"Where is she?"

Falco stared at Gabi, unsure of what to say. When his disease worsened, Levi started talking about a woman. He started asking for her almost daily. Gabi and Falco sat down and tried to figure out who it could be, but Levi never had any lovers as far as they knew. They started to wonder if she was real.

Gabi smiled at him- "She should be here soon. Do you want to come downstairs and celebrate with us while you wait?"

Levi nodded, and Falco helped him get downstairs in front of the fireplace. Gabi and her daughter went to the kitchen to light the candles on the small cake they baked together.

"We should have added 81 candles."- Sofia pouted.

Gabi pinched her cheek, and she yelped in protest- "Then you should have helped me bake a bigger cake."

"Who do you think she was?"

Gabi shrugged and took the cake in her hands- "Maybe his lover, who knows? We don`t know much about his life before Marley."

They made their way back to the living room, and after he blew out the candles, Sofia hurried to get the presents from under the Christmas tree. She gave Levi one of the gifts, and he ruffled her hair. Levi tore the wrapping paper and smiled at the sight of his favorite tea leaves. No matter how poor his memory was getting, his love for tea was unscathed.

When it got dark, Falco took Levi back to his room. He helped Levi get back in his armchair for the night and turned on the music for him. He still preferred to sleep in a chair.

There was no sign of her today. Levi wondered once again who she was and why she was haunting his dreams. He couldn`t even remember her name anymore. But Levi knew he missed her. He felt himself drifting to sleep and closed his eyes.

Levi woke up abruptly. He was lying on his back, with the sun blinding his sight. Levi used his right hand to cover his eyes... wait, he thought. He was met by something he hadn`t seen in dozens of years. His fingers were all intact. More than that, his skin wasn`t worn out by age anymore.

How odd, he thought. Levi couldn`t remember much these days, but something felt off. Did he dream it all? Being Humanity`s Strongest Soldier? The war? Getting old?

He found himself lying in the middle of a field, and Levi took a moment to cherish all the sensations. It had been years since he felt so carefree. He missed the feeling of the grass against his fingertips as he ran his hand through it, and he closed his eyes to enjoy the breeze on his skin. Levi turned his head to the side and spotted a small cottage in the distance. He used to have dreams of one before old age claimed his memories. He dreamt of the smell of freshly baked muffins and the sound of children playing in the backyard. The best ones were of her sitting on his lap on a lazy afternoon. Yes, Petra. He could remember her name now.

"Welcome home, Captain."

The voice he yearned to hear for so many years startled him, and Levi rose to his feet abruptly. His mouth went dry, and he could not seem to get a word out. Petra was as beautiful as the first moment he laid his eyes on her. Among the recruits, a small girl with fire in her eyes captured his attention.

Petra wore a long, white lace dress, with a beautiful embroidery decorating its length. She had a single white rose in her crown braid, but Levi`s attention was fixed on the shy smile she gave him. Oh, how he missed her. His memory, plagued by the passing of time, did not do her beauty justice.

"Am I..."

Petra gave him a sad smile before cutting him off.

"Dead? Yes, I`m afraid so. You died in your sleep on your 80th birthday."

Levi sat down on the grass, taking a moment to process it all. He felt confused, half-convinced it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

"I thought this was a dream."

Petra sat down on the grass next to him. She took his hand in hers, and he squeezed it back. She made small circles on his skin with her thumb in an attempt to soothe his nerves.

"If it were, would it be a bad one?"

"No," Levi answered without giving it a second thought. Dream or afterlife, he could never be bothered about getting to share it all with her.

"I thought it would be different. I didn`t feel anything. No fear, no pain."

Petra took his hand and placed it on her lap. She could feel where the conversation would be going next, and she didn`t want Levi to torment himself anymore.

Levi averted his eyes from hers. He felt a lump forming at the back of his throat, and he barely got out a whisper- "You died at such a young age. Did you..."

Petra interrupted him again. She cupped his face in her hands and turned his sight back to her.

"I was paralyzed by fear. I didn`t feel anything, I swear. It was quick."

She could see the disbelief in his eyes, but she kept going.

"I... I wish I had more time there. But we can`t fool fate, can we?"

Levi closed his eyes, still tormented by regret. He took one of her palms, and he placed a small kiss on it.

"I couldn`t get justice for you. For the guys. I`m sorry."

Petra threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. Levi wrapped his arms around her, and Petra gave a smile at how much he was holding onto her."

"We didn`t want you to. There was so much hate already. What happened to us... it wasn`t your fault, Captain."

Levi sighed in relief, happy he got her forgiveness nonetheless. He ran his hand up and down her back, wishing time stood still for a moment.

Petra pulled away from him, and Levi could see the faint tears in her eyes. But the smile she gave him melted his worries away.

Levi cleared his throat before speaking- "You`re gonna get it dirty."

Petra frowned, confused at where the conversation was going.

"The dress. It`s white, what did you expect?"

Petra burst into laughter, throwing herself on the ground. She swore she could see Levi`s eye twitch at the gesture.

"I`m serious, Petra. Grass stains are a bitch to get rid of."

She took his hand in hers again, tempted to pull him down next to her.

Petra batted her eyelashes at him- "I`m sure you`ll get them out for me."

He flicked her forehead, and she gave a small yelp in protest.

"You wish, brat."

Petra turned on her stomach, and she looked up at him with a big smile on her face while her hands cupped her cheeks. She said in the sweetest voice she could manage- "I know you can`t help yourself, sir."

Levi sighed and laid down next to her. "Fine, you win. But you`re still a brat."

Petra giggled, and she moved closer to him. She placed her head in the crook of his neck, and her fingers started fidgeting with one of his shirt`s buttons.

"I`ve missed you, Levi. I`ve been waiting for you."

Levi put his arm around her and he pulled her closer to him. "I`m sorry you had to wait for so long."

Petra shook her head at his response.

"Time passes differently here, I didn`t mind. Plus, I had company. Everyone visits from time to time."

Levi felt anxious at the thought of seeing everyone again. He hoped he didn`t disappoint any of them in the end.

As if reading his mind, Petra turned his face towards hers, and she ran her finger along his cheek. "Don`t worry, they can`t wait to come to visit."

Petra was only met with silence.

"We all get together on your birthday to celebrate. Erwin, Hange, the guys, and the rest of our friends." She gave a smile. "I guess everyone loved you. We eat cake, we drink tea, and we share our stories about you." Petra gave a small laugh- "Now that I think about it, we should have cleaned too."

Levi chuckled, and Petra was surprised to see a smirk forming on his face.

"You all do a piss poor job anyway."

Petra kicked him playfully in the shoulder, and he pulled her close to him again.

"There were also some interesting people from your past that I got to meet and become close to."

"Who..."

"Isabel is the sweetest girl."

Levi felt tears forming in his eyes when he heard that name. After she died, he tried to remember her the way she used to be: cheerful, optimistic, loud, and most importantly, happy. But images of the people he cared about devastated by death still haunted his memories, up until he started to lose them.

"She and Farlan come to visit me weekly. They help me around the garden. Did you know Farlan has a green thumb?"

Levi missed them both dearly. They taught him a lesson he cherished until his life ended: that family isn`t always blood.

"Isabel`s big appetite always leaves my pantry empty. After we finish gardening, she and Farlan help me prepare lunch and bake dessert. We always have to fight with Isabel over a piece of it."

"Eld, Gunther, and Oluo are always pestering me, of course. Just when I`m having a relaxing, good day, I hear loud knocks on my front door." Petra looked up at him and smiled.

"Even in death, I can`t get some time away from them!"

Levi tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You love them."

Petra sighed and gave a small laugh- "Yeah, of course, I do. They are family, after all. My life would be so dull without their antics."

"I can tell you it is. I found myself wishing I could hear Eld tell the story of how you pissed yourself on your first mission one more time."

"He still tells it all the time!"

Petra felt a bit anxious about what was on her mind, and she told him in a low voice- "Your mom is an amazing woman."

Levi gasped, both scared and impatient to see her again. She had always been on his mind, the pain of losing her so soon following him all his life. He hoped she wouldn`t judge him for the hard choices he had to make. He did what he had to do to survive, but Levi felt he was disrespecting her memory from time to time. His mother had been nothing but kind, and Kenny almost managed to murder the values she tried to instill in him.

"She came to visit me when I got here. We`ve gotten pretty close over the years. She and your uncle come for tea sometimes." Petra gave a small laugh- "He scares me though, I`m sorry. He pulls a ridiculous number of knives out of his sleeves!"

Levi had a complicated relationship with Kenny. But after he passed away, Levi started to forgive him, to understand what he was trying to do for him.

"Your mother is very proud of you, Levi. She can`t wait to see you."

Levi didn`t know how to answer her words, so he tried to avoid the subject.

"How about your old man?"

Petra sighed, and she turned her sight to the sky.

"Papa was mad at me when he first got here. For dying so young, for missing out on so many opportunities. But he loves me too much to stay mad at me, of course. He and mama are reunited now, so I`m glad they`re happy again."

"You know, I got to meet him once."

Petra covered her eyes with her arm, embarrassed to be relieving this moment again.

"He embarrassed me so much! I wanted to come back just for the sole reason to stop him from running his mouth!"

Levi averted his eyes from her- "I feel like neither of us would have been bothered by that."

Petra bit her lip, the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She didn`t want to ruin this reunion with her tears, though she knew Levi wouldn`t mind.

"I wish I could have been there by your side. To help you watch over the kids."

"Over the brats, you mean."

Petra laughed at his correction- "They weren`t that bad, Captain. They all loved you."

There was a silence in the air, as neither of them wanted to talk about what Eren did.

"I wish I could see the sea."

Levi wished that for her as well.

"I wish I could have felt the waves against my legs. To run my fingers through the sand, to feel how soft it is. I wanted to taste the water as well, to see how salty it truly is."

Levi squirmed at the thought- "Are you crazy? Like I would ever let you do something so stupid!"

Petra pouted, but Levi held his position- "Fine, have it your way."

Petra whispered- "I`m sorry you had to go through so much."

"It was alright in the end. I had two annoying brats to keep me busy."Levi appreciated everything Gabi and Falco did for him, considering them his family over the years.

Petra barely listened to him, too lost in her thoughts- "I`m so sorry I had to leave so soon. I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to support you, to be a shoulder for you to cry on when you needed it."

Levi turned his head towards hers and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "I don`t cry, silly."

"But you did. The night you lost us."

Levi felt his throat tightening, not expecting to hear that response from her. He barely whispered- "Did you see that?"

Petra just nodded, and a single tear rolled down her cheek when she squeezed her eyes shut.

"You taught me to live without regret, Levi. But I did die with one."

Petra raised to her knees and kept her head down, gathering the courage to speak the words she`d been longing to tell him for more than 40 years. The tears flowed freely on her cheeks, and when she met his eyes, she could see his worry in them. But also hope.

"I love you."

Levi got up to his knees, and he cupped her face with his hands. He used his thumbs to clear her tears away, and they looked into each other`s eyes without breathing a word out for what felt like an eternity. Levi leaned towards her lips, and Petra closed her eyes, impatient to have them on hers. Levi captured her lips, putting all of his love and yearn into it. The sacrifices, the hurt, the pain, they were all worth it in the end.

He and Petra were one now. After wandering for so long, they were finally whole.

Levi deepened the kiss, and he could feel Petra's smile against his lips. She ran her hands through his hair and pulled him closer, eager to feel him against her. He devoured her lips until they were both out of breath.

He took her in his arms and laid her down on the grass before getting on top of her. Levi kissed her again, letting his tongue explore her mouth, before moving to lay open-mouthed kisses on her jaw. Petra wrapped her arms around him, moaning softly from the pleasure he was making her feel. Levi licked a trail down to her neck before laying soft kisses on it. He whispered I love you against the skin of her neck, and Petra whimpered, the tears threatening to fall again. She pulled him up to her lips and kissed him while holding onto him so tight he felt out of breath.

Levi pulled away, and he laid a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. Petra giggled and gave him a big smile- "Do you want to go home, captain?"

Levi couldn`t control his smile anymore. He had been longing to hear those words.

"Yes, I would very much like that." He wanted to go home for far too long.

Petra got up to her feet and offered him her hand, helping him off the ground. Petra`s smile faded away at the sight of an angry Levi.

"Tch, what did I tell you?"

Petra felt panic rise in her chest, thinking he might regret confessing his feelings to her.

"It`s ruined! I`m never getting that stain out, you might as well undress and leave it here for the fucking animals to shit on."

Petra turned her head to look at the green stain on her dress, and she burst into laughter at his antics. She was a messy kid growing up, and her father always teased her about falling in love with such a clean freak.

She let him ramble under his breath as she pulled him towards the house. Their house, she hoped.

Petra lived in a small cabin with flower pots at the windows. She had two chairs on the porch, one too many in his opinion, as he planned to have her in his lap every evening. He spotted a small vegetable garden on the side of the house, wondering if she and Farlan needed an extra hand.

When they got on the porch, Levi stopped her, and Petra frowned at his gesture. Was the house not to his liking? Did it not seem clean enough?

“Is something wrong? If you don`t like it, we can always redecorate.”

Levi kissed her to shut her up and picked her up in his arms, bridal style. It seemed appropriate, as they were starting a new chapter together. Petra yelped, surprised by his gesture, but wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Shall we, my dear?"

Petra giggled at the extremely uncharacteristic sweet talk- "Of course, my love."

Levi opened the door, and he almost hit her head on the frame. He cringed at his awkwardness, but Petra just gave him a small kiss on his cheek. He made his way to the living room and set Petra down on one of the armchairs.

Levi took a moment to take in the surroundings. It was cleaned up to his standards, and his chest filled with pride. He had trained her well. The living room was small, with some shelves filled with books, two armchairs in front of the fireplace, and a table between them. The tea Petra had prepared for them went cold, but tea was tea. He would never let it go to waste.

The room filled with music, and he turned his head to find Petra in front of a phonograph. It was his favorite song.

Petra gave him a shy smile and reached out to him- "Can I have this dance, Captain?"

Levi put the teacup down, and he wrapped her arms around her. They started moving slowly, and Petra laid her head on his shoulder. He ran his hand up and down her back, and she closed her eyes, wishing the moment never ended. They danced until evening fell, oblivious to the hours passing.

They had all the time in the world.

(x)

[hieludoboi]

In Our Next Life

A/n- I really should be writing my Daichi series but I got the idea to write this after reading the most recent chapter of BNHA

A/n- Damn, this is kinda a little bit of word vomit, but like that’s okay :’)

Pairing- Dabi/Fem!Reader

Summary-If not in this life, then the next, right?

Warnings- Abuse, Major Character Death, Endeavor, a little bid of blood? pretty violent, fighting and war, SPOILERS FOR MY HERO ACADEMIA CHAPTER 290

Y/n hated hero society. That much she knew. She often wondered how life was before quirks came to be. As a little girl, she would sit between her grandmother’s legs, mouth open in awe as stories of a time not her own were recounted to her, becoming reality on the tongue of her dreams. She wished she had been born in those times. No quirk, no corruption, no child soldiers… Y/n would often sit and wonder if maybe life could have been different in those times. Maybe her mother would have cared, would have loved her, and nurtured her instead of forcing her to grow her quirk until she became an unrecognizable monster when she looked in the mirror.

“We’ll prove ‘em wrong. Right, Touya?” Y/n mumbled to herself, her fingers clutching onto the small wooden frame that sat on her nightstand. She would become the hero her mother never could and avenge Touya. She would do anything for him.

———————————————

“Momma! Momma, I can’t!” Y/n screamed, face twisted in agony as the scarlet flames scorched at her face and skin, charring the flesh that was desperately trying to regenerate. Her hands fisted as much as they could into loose concrete, her delicate nails splintering against grey floors of stone and splattering them cherry red. She could barely see, the world around her blanketed in white except for his warm puddles of eyes.

 Touya was being restrained by Y/n’s mother, his legs kicking and thrashing about as he tried to claw his way out of the woman’s vice-like grip. Touya’s wailing and Y/n’s guttural screams joined each other’s in harmony, producing an ugly duet. It was dissonant, clashing against each other as it got swept up in swarming summer winds. Y/n wondered if this was what hell felt like. A never-ending inferno of red’s and oranges, mocking a pretty sunset with its demonic hues. She wondered if Touya’s sobs would play on repeat in her head for the rest of her life…

“Stop! Enji! Stop!” Y/n had got lost amongst the wires of time, not realizing that Fuyumi had run to get Rei in the disarray of chaos that they had trapped her in. And suddenly the flames had stopped, and Rei was kneeling beside her, letting frost roam over the charred body of the ten-year-old girl before her. A head of white was all she could see for a moment, and then Touya’s graying head popped up from behind his mother’s shoulder, begging to be let closer.

 Brown and blue, those hues brought so much comfort to her.Rei wiped her eyes, gently cradling Y/n and Touya’s bodies against her chest, enveloping them in a sheet of frost and comfort. It took a moment, but Y/n’s quirk eventually kicked in on its own, regenerating skin cells and tissue, restoring lost hair and patches of skin. At that point, Y/n knew that hell was Enji Todoroki.

————————————

“I’m sorry. He’s gone…” Fuyumi and Natsuo were the ones to give her the news. First, Rei was taken away, then Touya? God, Y/n was having the worst year of her life. She should have cried, she wanted to, and though her face contorted and her body heaved and shook with sobs, tears never fell. Tear ducts. They were the one thing that she could never regenerate.

Natsuo had held her as she sobbed into his shoulder, Fuyumi somewhere in the kitchen preparing a meal for them. Though they loved their brother dearly, they knew that Y/n and Touya’s connection went beyond theirs. They shared pain, abuse, and trauma that no one in their home could ever begin to comprehend.

“Please. Please take care of Shouto. He’ll do the same thing to him, and-” Y/n could feel the bile rising in her throat, burning her esophagus as she ran to the restroom. Her mother had died long ago in battle, and though she was free from their clutches, even though she was now alone to do what she pleased, the cinders of dully lit embers still prickled her skin. No amount of regeneration could get rid of the subtle scars that sat atop her skin, the burns from both Enji's and Touya’s flames being too much for her body to ever begin to handle.

—————————————-

Being a hero should have been the last thing she wanted to be, but here she was, hero suit and all, sat in a plush and comfy chair as she explained the basics of her quirk to the man who had been interviewing her. After all these years, she was sitting at Endeavor’s office, applying to work under his agency. Ironic, right?

“And this quirk is called Regen, right?” Y/n looked up from where her eyes had been focused on the subtle burn scars that still sat on her skin.

“Right. It allows me to manipulate blood flow, organs, etcetera, etcetera. If the human body makes it, or if it’s part of the human body, I can manipulate it. To activate it, I need to get at least four beats of a person’s pulse. Once I do that, I can manipulate their blood flow and organs. So I can either use them as puppets, or shut down their organs, but mostly I just restrict oxygen and blood flow enough to knock them out. I had to work really hard to be able to get it to do that, but my area of specialty is regeneration. I can do it to my body or someone else’s,” Y/n explained, a fake and yet oddly pleasant smile on her face.

“Any weaknesses or limitations?” The interviewer asked, nose buried in his notebook as he jotted down little notes.

“Well, my quirk subtly wastes away the inside of my body. I won’t age on the outside, but my insides age with every minute that I use this quirk. So I’m a little frail, but it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Injuries by fire or heat also seem to be the one thing I can never fully heal. Oh and I think it’s worth mentioning that I can never fully heal ailments in one sitting. I can do the heavy work, or begin the process of healing bigger injuries, but if I try and heal all ailments and injuries at once, it will kill me.” Y/n explained, motioning to the subtle burns all across her body.The interviewer nodded, jotting down a note or two. Before she knew it, she was stepping out of his office, stumbling into an all too familiar, broad chest. 

Quickly, she shoved the man away, her body beginning to tremble as the soles of her feet planted themselves firmly onto the carpeted ground, forcing her to face her hell. Looking up, she stared into cold, blue eyes. They weren’t warm; they weren’t comforting. They weren’t Touya.

“Ah, Y/n. It’s nice to see you here…” Enji’s voice was stiff, strained, and very obviously uncomfortable. Y/n couldn’t help but stare at the massive scar that was etched across one side of his face. He seemed different. Not just in appearance, but something within him had changed.

Enji cleared his throat, reaching his hand out to shake Y/n’s hand. And before she could stop herself, she flinched. Not just a little flinch, but a jump. Her eyes were wide and torn with fear, her body curling into itself as a small shriek threatened to jump from the confines of her throat. The burns across her body seemed to sear all over again, and she could faintly catch a whiff of charred flesh. Enji stopped in his tracks, retracting his hand and instead shoving them into his pockets.

“Uhm, what brings you here?” Enji asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. Y/n took a deep breath, straightening out the wrinkles in her suit before forcing herself to meet Enji’s guilty gaze. Why was she here? She could have gone with the brutally honest and therapeutic reason. She could be here to face her abuser and find some sort of closure, maybe even become number one while at his agency and drive him insane, do something to avenge Touya, or.

“Well, I figured since I already know you and you were sort of my mentor, what better place to apply than here, right?” Y/n bit the inside of her cheek, her nails digging tiny crescents into the palms of her hands behind her back. She sounded so unsure, so pitiful and… Scared.

“Right, well, I’ll be sure to approve your application then. Uhm, I’ll see you around,” Y/n nodded, watching as Enji walked off, leaving her to stare at his back. Had she made the right decision? Lord, she hoped so.

——————————

“Y/n?” Y/n spun around, the confused look on her face dropping as soon as she made eye contact with Shouto. The boy hadn’t changed much since she had last seen him. Yet, he looked so, disappointed? Disillusioned?

“Shou! I didn’t think you’d be interning here!” Y/n exclaimed, scarred hands clutching onto loads of paperwork. Shouto frowned, taking a step towards her and gently touching the faint scars on her hands with delicate fingertips. Y/n took in a breath, not realizing she had been holding it until Shouto pulled away.

“I didn’t think you’d be working here, Nee-chan…” Y/n gasped, the oxygen getting stuck in her throat. It had been years since Shouto had called her his Ne-chan. Had she failed him?

“Shouto…” Y/n trailed off, sad eyes averting from the first year’s fierce gaze.

“We’re having dinner tonight, a few friends of mine are going. Fuyumi and Natsuo wouldn’t mind seeing you,” Shouto mumbled before walking away, leaving Y/n to stare once again at someone’s back. Had she made the wrong choice?

———————————————

Y/n had spent way too much time getting ready for this family dinner situation. This would be the first time in years that should be setting foot into the Todoroki household. She never realized just how much fear it could bring her. But this time would be different, she told herself as she pulled on a yellow knitted sweater. Natsuo would be there, and so would Fuyumi and Shouto. They would be eating dinner, not training.And so with a deep breath, Y/n forced herself to walk outside and drive herself to the Todoroki residence. Things were different now. She was grown, a pro hero climbing the ranks at a rapid pace. She had to be over it at this point, right?

She should have known. Standing at the front door felt more daunting than it was. Her body seemed to tremble with each breath she took. All she could see was fire, all she could hear were screams, and all she could feel was the stinging feel of flames against her already marred flesh. This was her hell.She was half expecting Rei to open the door when she knocked. And sure enough, she was met by a pair of warm brown eyes and a head of white hair. Natsuo. Y/n could feel her body stiffen, turning to stone against her will. She had severely overestimated herself.

Dinner was anything but smooth. Fuyumi was trying, lord was she trying. It was a tense night, with Y/n sitting between Fuyumi and Natsuo, a comforting hand wrapped around her unsteady hand beneath the table. Fuyumi had always been very kind to her.

“So how’d you do it?” Fuyumi and Y/n looked up, their eyes focusing on Natsuo, who was spitting venom at Enji. Natsuo looked like a cobra, hood raised, and ready to strike. Enji stared at Natsuo with a confused look, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. “How’d you manage to get Y/n into your agency? She hates you and everything about you, so how’d you do it?” Natsuo spat, brown eyes turning into pits of coal as he stared Enji down. Y/n felt herself grow cold, the pair of chopsticks damn near breaking in her iron tight grip.

“What’s he talking about?” Y/n looked up, her e/c eyes following each and every one of Bakugo, Midoriya’s, and Shouto’s movements as he explained what he could remember to them.

“Natsuo…” Fuyumi trailed off, a soft voice of warning between the two heated males. Y/n sighed through her nose before letting go of Fuyumi’s hand.

“It makes no sense. He’s the reason for all her burns. They were so severe that she couldn’t even regenerate the skin back to normal! Her tear ducts are gone and her lungs will never be the same from all the smoke she’s had to inhale! It makes no sense, Fuyumi!” Natsuo yelled, tears pricking at his eyes.

“Natsuo, I joined on my own. No one forced me. I had my reasons.” Y/n stated, looking away from Natsuo’s hurt eyes. Maybe she had made the wrong choice.

“He’s the reason Touya’s dead! How could you work with him!?” Y/n flinched, her body becoming a statue, the chopsticks falling from her hands and clanging against the glass plate beneath her.

“Natsuo!” Fuyumi yelled, eyes widening as Y/n abruptly stood up. She looked sickly, a pale and grey undertone taking quite the liking to her face. The entire table watched as she stumbled to the front door, struggling to pull on her shoes.

She left before anyone could say goodbye, shoving her body into the car that almost felt too small for her, yet she couldn’t leave. It felt like something was tying her to the house, and she hated it. Taking a deep breath, she opened her car door, relishing in the way the crisp air filled her damaged lungs. It wouldn’t hurt to go back, right?

Stepping out of the car, she ambled towards the courtyard, her eyes darting from area to area. It wasn’t all bad. She had made some good memories with Touya there. Like the time Enji wasn’t able to take his usual Sunday’s off to torment Touya and her. She and Touya had played hide and seek with Fuyumi in the courtyard for what felt like hours, playful grins adorning their round faces as they stumbled around the pillars and grass. Y/n and Touya were six at that time.

Finally, Y/n was standing in the middle of the courtyard, staring at the stone floors that had shattered her fingernails so many times. Wincing, Y/n brought her fingers to her lips, chewing on the tips of her nails and tasting the familiar metallic twang of blood on her tongue. When she pulled her fingers away, they were fine. There was no blood, no splintering, nothing.It took longer than she expected, wandering around the area and remembering key details of her life with every corner she walked into. And then she fell, tripping over a stray water bottle and landing hands first into the center of the courtyard, her eyes focusing in on the giant cherry tree just on the other side of the stone floor.

“We’ll be the best heroes! You can control the enemy like puppets! And I’ll scare them with my fire!” Touya declared, bright blue eyes sparkling with stars plucked from the heavens. Y/n nodded, a determined smile on her face. They were sat on the floor, their bodies bruised and sore from the sparring they had been forced to do earlier. Her s/c hands cupped Touya’s face, working hard to clear the bruises along his eyes and cheeks. “And I’ll never have to worry about getting hurt when I’m with you! Ever!” Touya said a closed-eyed grin on his face. They would never have to worry as long as they had each other. “Thank you, oh, and here!” Touya pulled away from Y/n as soon as she put her hands in her lap, quickly scurrying over to the cherry tree behind him to pluck a sakura that had fallen to the ground.

“Momma says that sakuras mean new beginnings or something like that! I just think they’re pretty! You’re pretty too. Hey! Maybe your hero name could be Sakura! Because you’re pretty, and you can heal people, and people can start again when they heal!” Touya exclaimed, stumbling over his words as he focused on tucking the Sakura behind her ear so the flower stuck out a bit. Y/n giggled, nodding at his suggestion. She would do anything Touya asked.

She hadn’t even noticed she was sobbing until she felt a pair of arms wrapping around her body. And for a split second, she thought the feeling of raindrops running down the apples of her cheeks were tears. When had it started to rain?

“Let’s go inside, yeah? Dad and the kids went to go help Natsuo. He left a little bit ago.” Fuyumi explained, helping Y/n stand from the cold concrete floor. Y/n sniffled, nodding her head. And as they made their way into the living room, Y/n finally felt a little at peace. She was grown now, a pro hero who could finally fight for herself. For the first time since she had walked into that courtyard, she left without any scars, any fears. She walked in on her own, did what she wanted, and left. Maybe, just maybe, that courtyard couldn’t control her any longer.

———————————

Y/n hated hero society. She knew that now more than ever. Here she was, fighting a war alongside child soldiers who were too young to be risking their lives for some ‘glory filled’ death. She was tired, so, so tired. Her muscles felt like they were wasting away with each breath she took. Her arms and hands were sore from being stretched out for so long. She was past her limit, controlling up to five villains with one hand, working her hardest to help heal five other heroes as they constantly hurt themselves with her other hands.

“Renge! You’re needed upfront, we’ll handle things here!” Y/n looked around, wondering exactly who had given her the command but couldn’t find the person to who the voice belonged too. She could only see the confident faces of her peers as she one by one let her enemies and allies go. Shouto was up front, so were his friends. Y/n took a deep breath. They weren’t too far from the front lines, and she was lucky enough to have been given a lift by some winged hero. She took her time in the air to heal herself, just a bit. She was going to die in the battle, that much she knew. She might as well die looking good, right?

“Come dance with your son in hell!!” Nothing. Nothing could have prepared her for the voice that rung through her ears, piercing her brain and heart in just one second. It had been ages since she had heard that voice. But he was dead. Stumbling as she jumped off of the other pro hero, she slowly walked to stand beside Shouto. And sure enough, there he was. His face was maimed, held together by staples and purple flesh, blue eyes resembling the marina trenches, his lips twisted in some crazed grin. It couldn’t be. Someone had to be posing as him. Touya was dead, he had been dead for years. Touya wouldn’t be a murderer, this wasn’t Touya. Y/n bit down on her lip, wincing as she tasted the blood that began to trickle down into her mouth. She was a hero now, and her priority was to help her comrades, not reminisce or let her past emotions get into the way. Even if it was Touya, it wasn’t the Touya she knew.

Y/n didn’t allow herself to think, her vision going spotty and body going hot as her hands stretched in front of her. She had felt his pulse enough times, and if it was him, he would bend to her will. But still, she hoped that his body would move on its own, she hoped that he wouldn’t succumb to her quirk. She hoped it was someone else.

Dabi felt himself going insane as he stared down his father and brother. He had wanted this for years, and now, here they were. Enji could finally pay for what he had done. Amongst the chaos, he failed to notice the way his body went rigid, a familiar cold grip wrapping around his veins. Where had he felt this before?

Dabi gritted his teeth, straining against the non-existent wires coiling around his veins, restricting his movements, and using him as a puppet. Vague memories of a childhood lost to trauma encircled his mind, and his vision seemed to be going spotty. But it couldn’t be. Not her, not Y/n. Dabi grunted, his knees hitting the ground as he turned to stare to the right. Sure enough, there she was, her costume ripped, her face bruised and bloody, her muscles wasting away behind the latex that wrapped around her body.

Her eyes were wild, seemingly blank as she focused in on his body. He had only seen that fear cross her gaze when she looked at his father, so why was she looking at him like that? Yet still, he found himself walking towards her slowly slumping figure. The closer he got, the more clearly he could hear the sobs that left her lips. She hadn’t changed, her skin just as scarred, her eyes just as empty and fearful. She couldn’t bring herself to hurt him, and he knew it.

Grinning to himself, Dabi chuckled, catching her gaze and watching as she tried to remain indifferent.

“Your cries give you away, doll,” Dabi chuckled, the sound raspy and cold. Y/n flinched before closing her eyes and attempting to steady herself. “I missed you, y’know?” Dabi took a step towards her, blinking in surprise when he realized she wasn’t using her quirk on him. “I know all your weaknesses, I know the ins and outs of your quirk, and you’re letting me go?” Dabi mused, his burnt hand coming up to cup the side of her face. Y/n felt the sob rip painfully from her chest as she leaned into the touch, bringing up her maimed hand to clasp onto his.

“He really did a number on you, huh, Y/n?” Dabi said softly, his gaze becoming tender for just a moment before returning to its piercing and frosted state. Y/n nodded her head, letting her body fall against his chest, wrapping her arms around his disfigured body. Dabi grunted, eyes wide in shock, his knees buckling beneath him. They fell onto the rubble beneath their feet, knees bruising against crumbled buildings and twisted metal poles.

“You’re alive…” Y/n choked the words out through her sobs. Her hands gripping onto his shoulders, not willing to let him go. She couldn’t lose him, not now that he had finally come back. Dabi stiffened, his arms slowly wrapping around her shaking form. They sat like that for a moment, trembling against one another, against the mess of the surrounding city.

Finally, Y/n pulled away, her unsteady hands cupping Dabi’s face, her worried eyes studying his face and twisting in heartbreak. Why was she looking at him like that?

Y/n pushed Dabi away, her chest violently rising and falling, her breaths feeling like hornet stings inside her lungs and throat. His eyes were no longer warm, they were void of emotion; they were filled with hunger, a hunger she hadn’t seen in years. This wasn’t Touya. Y/n took shaky breaths. Her eyes screwed shut as she tried to convince herself that the man in front of her wasn’t the boy she had fallen in love with all those years ago.

Dabi felt his breath catch in his throat, his hand extending towards her before falling to his side. Why was she scared? She knew it was him, right?

“Y/n, it’s me. It’s Touya…” Dabi croaked, his eyes filling with pain as he crawled towards her. Y/n shook her head vigorously, shuffling back anytime he tried to come close to her.

“Stop it. You’re not Touya!” Y/n flinched at the scream that tore through her lips, not expecting the words to fly from her chest in the way they did. “T-Touya wanted to be a hero! Touya wanted to save people. He loved his baby brother, Touya, Touya wasn’t some sort of monster!” Y/n spat, the venom dripping from her words and splattering against Dabi’s eardrums.

“I did what I had to do!” Dabi yelled back, his eyes wide and filled with hurt. How could she say that about him? “I was willing to do whatever it took to show the world what he had done to me- to us!” Dabi explained, his voice wavering as he knelt among jutting pieces of cement and debris.

Y/n let her back rest against a random piece of wall, her chest heaving as her lungs struggled to obtain air. She had overworked herself. Her lungs were practically disintegrating. She was tired, and her body could no longer move. On the inside, she had the organs of a ninety-year-old. This was it for her, and she knew it. But at least she got some closure, right? Through her lidded eyes, she watched as Dabi rushed towards her, blue eyes filled with worry, and maybe even warmth.

“Hey, hey! No! You can’t go on and give up! You have to beat that bastard at his own game, remember? Become number one, drive him insane!” Dabi explained as he scooped up her limp body in his arms. Y/n blinked, her eyes cold and slowly dimming.

“We. We were supposed to do that…” Y/n whispered, her hand weakly reaching up to try and hold his face before meekly falling onto his chest. Dabi took an unsteady breath, taking hold of her cold hand and pressing it to his cheek. “I hope, that in our next lives, we’re able to live the life we always wanted…” Y/n mumbled, her fingers finding purchase on his pulse. Dabi blinked, eyes going wide as soon as he realized what she was doing.

“Stop it- stop! You’re going to die!” Dabi yelled, his voice cracking as she restricted his movements with her quirk.“I was going to die anyway. I knew this would be my final battle, Dabi, so let me die looking at the Touya I knew, and not you.” Y/n mumbled. Dabi could feel the way his sobs racked his body. Her face and body beginning to grow pale, her eyes tired and almost dead as she poured what was left of her into his recovery.

A weak smile grew on Y/n’s face as she watched the burns on his body begin to heal, the staples falling off one by one as his skin slowly began to go back to normal. The flesh beneath her fingers grew soft, the color returning to its pale and rosy state.

“Could you imagine how different our lives could be?” Y/n whispered, a sad smile on her face as she watched the patches beneath Dabi’s eyes disappear. “Sakura and Touya, pro heroes, working side by side… Y’know, I never felt like I could take that hero name. I settled with Renge. Sakuras symbolize starting anew, remember? I never felt like I could start again. I felt, that after Touya died, I had to grow through mud,” Y/n explained, her chest rattling with stinging wheezes, her face growing gaunt and grey.

Dabi took a shuddering breath, his hand gripping onto Y/n’s free hand, nodding along to the words that weakly slipped from her lips, getting lost in the chaos around their bodies. 

“I’m right here, Y/n. Touya’s here…” Dabi sobbed, pulling her body closer to his, willing her to see him for who he was, for who she knew him to be. Y/n shook her head, the hurt in her eyes eminent despite the way they shrouded with death.

“You only look like Touya,” Y/n murmured, flinching as droplets began to fall onto her cheeks. She looked up at him with a feeble gaze, watching as the tears collected in Dabi’s eyes before dripping down his face. Frowning, Y/n attempted to brush away his tears with her thinning hand. Dabi sniffled, looking down at her body as it wasted away in his arms. His eyes held yearning, an agony that only they knew existed. And for a moment, they even seemed tender as he stared down at her. For a moment, Touya was there.

“In our next life, Touya…” Y/n rasped, her hand falling to her side, her eyes dimming until there was nothing left. Touya could feel the way his body broke down, the agonizing screams ripping past the confines of his throat and getting lost in the battle behind them. He could feel the tears rushing down his cheeks, dripping down his chin and filling the dips in her now scrawny face. Her chest shuddered one last time, her final breath raking past her lungs and dissipating into the wind.

He stayed there for what felt like hours, curled around her body. She was thin, pale and so, so utterly broken. Touya couldn’t help but wonder how they had gotten to this point, what their life could have been like if he had just gone to her, looked for her. In his quest to destroy his father, he had lost sight of himself, and ultimately let his ambitions get the best of him.

Touya took a deep breath, harshly wiping the tears off of his face. He gave Y/n’s hand one last squeeze, gently laying her body amongst the mounds of rubble where someone was sure to find her. He could only hope that they would meet again.

“In our next life, Y/n…”

[queenofspades6]

Injured (Loki x reader)

Summary: You were badly injured and Loki is extremely worried.

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Protective Avengers.

AN: Another fanfiction of one of my favorite characters, Loki Laufeyson! I hope you’ll enjoy! Link to my Loki Series: Just a Midgardian where you go to Asgard with Loki and Odin is willing to make your life a living hell.

***

You and the Avengers were on a perilous mission. A monster was attacking New York and destroying everything in his path. There were already more than fifty dead, and the whole city was starting to panic. So obviously when you and the team discovered that someone was threatening people’s lives, you had to intervene.

Your main goal was to kill the monster and then come back at the Stark Tower.

At first, you thought it was going to be easy, yet, you changed your mind when suddenly you felt a sharp stick tearing your belly apart. You dared to look down at your stomach and noticed your jacket soaked in blood, the tip of a sharp weapon sticking out of your abdomen. A sudden wave of warmth enveloped your body.

“Tony!”You yelled, already feeling all your strength leaving your body.”I’m down! I am losing a lot of blood! Help, please!”

“Hang on, Y/N, I am coming!”He declared through the comm, running at your rescue.

“Tony, I won’t-I won’t make—”

Dripping with sweat, you felt your body relaxed, and your vision started blurring.

You heard someone called your name, and then, everything went black around you.

***

Loki was sitting on the sofa, reading a book, with a cup of tea on the table. When he heard footsteps, he knew the Avengers were back home. Still not looking away from his book, he just stared at a page without really reading. He didn’t want to look as if he was eavesdropping, even though he was.

“We’re home, Reindeer Games!”Tony shouted, heading towards his room.

A book open in his hands, the God of Mischief waited a few seconds and looked up at the team discreetly.

“Where’s Y/N?���He suddenly questioned, searching for you with fear in his eyes.

The Avengers were purposely avoiding his gaze, and peeking at him awkwardly.

“I won’t repeat ! Where’s Y/N?”Loki uttered, standing up and closing brutally the book in his hands.

The team exchanged some afraid looks.

Who was going to tell Loki what happened?

Thor took a step towards his brother and forced a smile.

“Brother… Lady Y/N is…”The God of Thunder tried articulating, looking down.

“Tell me! Where is Y/N? I demand to know!”Loki shouted, his face becoming red with fury.

He clenched his fists and threw violently his book on the ground.

With obvious pain in his eyes, Thor couldn’t cross his brother’s gaze.

Anger was rising in Loki’s body.

Was Y/N dead?

Without thinking, he took his brother by his shoulders and shook him wildly again and again.

“Tell him, Point Break.”Tony muttered, getting closer to Loki.

“Is Y/N dead?”The God of Mischief asked, his body slowly tensing.

“No, she will be bett—”Thor began to reply, but Stark interrupted him.

“No more lies.”Stark interrupted Thor, giving him a serious and painful look.

“Tell me, mortal!”Cried Loki, marching dangerously towards Tony.”Is she dead?”

“Not yet.”Stark whispered, shrugging and forcing a smile.

“She won’t last the night.”Steve declared, his eyes clouded with tears.

The God of Mischief’s face fell down. You were hurt. He was going to lose you.

“Don’t pretend to care for Y/N, Reindeer Games.” Tony provoked him, giving Loki a long and cold stare.

Although Stark was too proud to admit it, he was angry with himself for letting you be hurt. He was supposed to look after you, to protect you, and he failed. He could have saved you, but he failed. Tony needed someone to blame for his powerlessness, and Loki was the perfect culprit. He was taking his anger out of the God of Mischief. It was easier to blame someone else than to confront the truth.

“I care for Y/N. Dearly.”Loki declared, staring at the void of the room.

“Oh no, you don’t, Reindeer. You were just pretending! You wanted freedom and power, so you used her for your own interest!”

“I care for Y/N.”Loki repeated, clenching firmly his fists and frowning.

“Lie! You’re a monster, Loki. No matter what you do, the only person you serve is yourself! So why still pretending? To keep your conscience? If you have one.”Tony mocked, rage rising in his body.

Steve headed towards Stark and put his hand on his shoulder.

“Stark, stop.”Captain America muttered under his breath.

Shivering, Loki stared at Stark, eyes filled with venom.

“Maybe I am the monster parents tell their children about at night, maybe I am a murderer and a liar! Maybe you’re right!”Spitted the God of Mischief, his muscles tensing.”Maybe I don’t deserve to live, but don’t dare to say that I don’t care about Y/N! Because I care for her! More than I want!”

“Oh, you care? You? The God of Mischief caring for our little Y/N? I don’t believe you! Why would a monster like you appreciate Y/N, if not to hurt her? You didn’t deserve her friendship! She is too kind and loving, and you… You’re the villain of the story, Loki, cruel and merciless. No redemption this time.”

Tony was too close to Loki. Only one step separated them. Stark raised his hand and Steve stopped him before hitting the God of Mischief.

Loki’s face broke down. A few drops of sweat beaded on his forehead. His cheeks were red and his palms were moisty. Taking a deep breath, Loki stared right at Tony.

Stark glared at the god, and at his greatest surprise, he didn’t see anger in Loki’s eyes. It was something Tony didn’t expect. Something much deeper.

Sorrow and regret.

Tony couldn’t speak. Maybe Loki cared after all.

“You’re right, Stark. I am a monster, and took the lives of innocent people. I am not asking for forgiveness. Send me back to Asgard if it’s your wish or lock me in the worst prison for all I care! But don’t tell me I don’t care for Y/N! I-I—… She was the only one to reach out to me, to be kind with me even knowing for New York. Y/N treated me like a human being, she made me feel like maybe life was worth living…”

Loki’s eyes were clouded with tears. Tilting his head, he wept his tears quickly, hoping the others would not notice. He was the God of Mischief after all, he couldn’t cry. And especially not after a mortal.

“Loki?”Thor asked, raising his eyebrows.

The God of Thunder didn’t know what to do. He had not seen his brother cry for hundreds years ago, and seeing him so vulnerable, so fragile, so human, it made Thor’s heart breaks.

“It’s fine, Thor, I don’t feel anything.”Loki lied and sat on the sofa, head in his hands.

With wide eyes, Natasha was observing the god with wonder. Here was the God of Mischief that tried to take over the world though, he looked so human, so exposed. Natasha had a hard time believing it was the same god that killed innocent people in New York. Steve and Thor were looking in awe at him. They weren’t used to see Loki like that. Like someone who had feelings.

Shrugging, Tony walked towards Loki, regret in his eyes.

“Loki, look I am sorry.”Stark said, clenching his teeth and putting away his pride.

The god closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.

“Don’t be. You were right.”He declared, not daring to look at the team’s gaze, and nervously scratching his fingers.

Iron Man gave him a questioning look. A smile slowly appearing on the god’s lips, he stood up and was ready to confront the Avengers.

“You were right, Stark, I don’t care about Y/N. I don’t care for her.”

He grinned and walked in the room, catching the glances of the team.

“In fact, I don’t care for Y/N. I love her. Judge me if that pleases you, but it won’t change my feelings. I love Y/N from the bottom of my heart. Coming from a murderer, it must not value anything though, I-I want to see her. Please. Please, let me see her. If she’s going to die, I want to be here for her and then, you’ll do what you want with me. Give me back to the SHIELD or lock me, whatever you want, just let me see her.”He pleaded with honesty in his eyes.

“Come here, brother.”Thor declared, embracing firmly his brother, with tears falling on his cheeks.

“Thor. Stop it. That’s-That’s humiliating!”

“Come on, Reindeer Games, I am taking you to her.”Tony said.

Loki smiled and followed Stark through the elevator, and then to another room. Tony opened the door, let the god enter and closed the door behind him.

Letting you alone with Loki.

***

Tony didn’t trust the God of Mischief, yet, he knew Loki’s love for you was sincere. He saw the same loving eyes in different people, and he may not have loved Loki, but he cared about you. That was all that mattered.

“Tony. You really left Loki alone with Y/N? I am not reassured. We should keep an eye at him.”Natasha stated, taking something to drink.

“I am not too fond of Reindeer either, but he won’t hurt her. He loves her, Nat, the God of Mischief is really in love.”Tony replied, sipping his glass of scotch.

“Stark is right. My brother won’t lay a finger on her. I have never seen him so caring and loving. Lady Y/N really brings out the best in Loki.”Thor uttered, a proud smile appearing on the corner of his lips.

“Guys! You really think that’s healthy for them to be together? Loki is the God of Mischief after all.”Banner pointed out, his hands filled with files and studies.

“Y/N is not in love with him.”Declared Steve, frowning.”That’s obvious. She was probably staying with him because he was alone, and she didn’t want him to feel lonely and abandoned.”

“Don’t be so sure, Captain, Y/N and Loki have much more in common than we think. I won’t be surprised if she loves him back.”The God of Thunder announced happily, thinking that if you’d marry Loki, you would be his sister in law.

“I am not certain, she’ll survive through the night. Her wounds are deep and even if her body can heal, she has very little chance of surviving.”Tony muttered, feeling pain in his chest.

You were pretty close with Tony. He was like your best friend, and the two of you understood each other. Stark was afraid that Loki would break your heart. And if he did, he would be dead.

“We need to give her rest.”Said Steve.”Maybe she’ll survive. We need to hang on that hope.”

“Sorry, Cap’, I don’t believe in hope, only in science. I am goin’ to check on Y/N.”

Tony didn’t wait the others answers to head towards Y/N’s floor. He hoped you were still alive. Speeding up, Tony arrived in front of your door. He inhaled once and then exhaled deeply.

Fearing the worst, Stark walked towards your bed and found Loki asleep next to Y/N. He checked your pulse, and sighed in relief.

You were still alive.

Tony analyzed your body, and instantly, he knew something was wrong. Or at least strange.

Why was your pulse faster than last time?

You were badly injured, so you should have had a very weak pulse. Curious, Stark quickly lifted your top to examine your wounds. Open-mouthed and wide-eyed, he noticed your deep wounds had suddenly disappeared. You only had a small scratch with a few drops of blood.

You were going to survive.

How? What had happened?

Tony peeked at Loki, and instantly he knew.

Magic was involved. Obviously.

This time the God of Mischief had used his magic for the greater good instead of killing with his gifts. That was how you healed so rapidly. Loki healed you, and by seeing his face, Stark could say the god was pretty exhausted and weak. It must have cost him most of his strength. He had done it to save you of an inevitable death.

Maybe Loki loved you after all.

More than they could think of.

***

If you love that fic, this one is for you too.

⬇️⬇️⬇️

You accompany Thor and Loki to Asgard. You’re all excited to finally see that wonderful place, but what happens when you notice you are only a human among Gods? How can Loki ever love you, a Midgardian, part of the Avengers?

⬇️⬇️⬇️

https://queenoffanfictions.tumblr.com/post/621090392400625665/just-a-midgardian-loki-x-reader

[oharascholar]

Why Sanji meeting Yamato has LGBTQ+ readers on edge - Scholar’s Summaries #1

(Image originally posted to Tumblr by user Rumenta)

As the Wano arc in One Piece progresses steadily, the cast of the series expands ever more. Amongst the unique cast of new characters, we meet Kaido’s Son - Yamato, a young man who wishes to be just like the beloved ex-hero of the country, a man named Oden.

Yamato is an exciting character to see for many LGBTQ+ people like myself. He is a man who was assigned female at birth, who has plump lips, long eyelashes, and breasts. This, to many LGBTQ+ readers, and definitely to myself, brings up the idea of masculine people being allowed to exhibit traditionally ‘female’ body parts, and a comforting reminder that you can be a man without paying for gender-affirming surgery or binding your chest. This speaks to me as a transmasc nonbinary person - I, too, was assigned female at birth, refer to myself as a man, and have a traditionally female body in the same way. I do not once think of myself as a woman.

(One Piece Chapter 984, page 17 of 17. First published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2020, issue 31)

My opinion of Yamato thus far, as a transmasc nonbinary person, has been entirely positive - I enjoy seeing a man who is openly referred to as a man in universe (for example, ‘Kaido’s Son’), who has features which are traditionally seen as non-masculine. It is how I feel about my own body - I rarely give a second thought to the fact that I have breasts. They don’t make me any less masculine, and I tend not to dwell on them at all. It makes me feel happy to see a character who I can truly relate to on such a personal level.

Yamato is a positively portrayed character in the series, and is a supporting character to our main protagonist, Luffy. He plays an important role in fighting against the main villain of this arc. He was even shown to be good friends with Portgaz D. Ace, one of the most beloved supporting characters in the series - even giving Ace the much important ‘vivre card’ which played a vital role in the Marineford Arc. Yamato is given plot importance within the story as a whole with this, linking him throughout the story.

(One Piece Chapter 1000, page 9 of 19 first published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2021, issue 5-6)

It is also easy, as a transmasc person, to read heavily into Yamato’s situation with his father. Initially, it seems positive - Kaido refers to Yamato as his son openly. To an outsider, Kaido accepts Yamato’s identity... Then enter the ‘Oden’ issue.

Yamato wishes to be just like Kozuki Oden on all fronts, changing his appearance to try and look just like him. This part of Yamato’s identity has caused contemption in Kaido, with Yamato even recounting that Kaido would beat him over it. Ever since Yamato first wanted to be like Oden, from the age of eight, Kaido has kept him shackled up inside of his residence.

Yamato states that he can’t truly be Oden until he is free of his shackles given to him by his father. To many, this strikes as a direct parallel towards living in a transphobic household.

When Luffy, a character who has represented liberation throughout the series, first tries to remove these shackles, Yamato is instinctively afraid. He explains that the shackles will explode, and that they’ve been on him for twenty years. He also ponders if he is being kept in by a lie - wondering if his father would really let his son be blown up for merely leaving the island.

(One Piece Chapter 985, page 9 of 19. First published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2020, issue 33-34)

No matter how you put it, Yamato is transgender. Though it has not been officially stated as such, it seems to be heavily implied that he is a transgender man, without issue.

Yamato instinctively wants to keep the status quo, one which technically keeps him safe, at the expense of his identity and freedom. The danger, of course, is purely created by his father. This something which many transgender people can resonate with, the idea of staying ‘in the closet’ so as to not cause contemption within your family.

Luffy removes the shackles and throws them away, causing them to explode - this event causes Yamato to become enraged and upset, stating that he no longer thinks of Kaido as his father. This is a powerful moment, the act of breaking the ties with an abusive parent who does not accept his identity.

It is important to be aware of why Elizabeth or Tibany was so offensive, whilst Yamato feels progressive. Transgender women in media are often presented as predatory, as if they were men in dresses who only want to prey on young men, and Elizabeth is a prime example of the worst of this transmysogynistic stereotype. Had this character been on their lonesome, along a multitude of other transgender women with different body types, and had Elizabeth not been predatory, this would be a fine character. Transgender women and transfem people as a whole should not feel guilty to exhibit as much body hair as they like, and to have as deep of a voice as they like, without worry of being mocked or ridicule. 

… Or, without issue, so far.

Sanji appears to be on a direct collision course for one Young Master Yamato, which puts a lot of anxiety into LGBTQ+ readers. Rightfully so, as in the past, Sanji has been used as a vehicle for horrific transphobia in the series, as touched on by the One Piece Podcast in text and in audio. This alone brings up multiple concerns - the most worrying of all is the possibility that Yamato has been a long setup for a particularly horrific transphobic punchline. The author, Eiichiro Oda, has been more than capable of writing transphobia into his series before, such as with the character Elizabeth (or Tibany, as this character is known in the manga), a transgender woman coded character who is a walking offensive stereotype - even acting in a predatory way towards young men. There is definitely a certain validity behind such worries.

But, when the only representation in this part of One Piece is predatory people with deep voices and stubble all over, you can see why this is completely different to Yamato exhibiting breasts and such.

(Chapter 543, page 1 of 20. First published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2009, issue 26 / Chapter 994, page 17 or 17, first published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2020, issue 48)

Another concerning path is that Sanji will see Yamato and fawn all over him - only for him to act horrified and disgusted upon hearing Yamato affirm that he is a man. During the infamous Fishman Island arc, Sanji had a life-saving blood transfusion given to him by two transgender-coded women - this alone was enough for him to start screaming and flipping himself around the bed in horror - a truly upsetting act of transmisogyny that many agree should never have been put in the series at all.

However, our combined worries may be for nothing. Oda has also written nonbinary and transgender characters who have been delightful to witness, and have been much accepted and adored by the LGBTQ+ community as a whole - Characters such as Bentham, a character who can shapeshift and monologues about their gender, or Kiku, a transgender woman in the current arc, who has been portrayed respectfully thus far, being in the series for almost 100 chapters. There is still hope that Oda has changed his ways from his dark Fishman Island Days.

In the most hopeful outcome, this meeting will serve as a character growth point - Sanji has matured as a character, and is ready to treat transgender people as human beings. This outcome seems tantalisingly possible to me, especially since characters will openly reffer to Yamato as male without issue.

(One Piece Chapter 979, page 14 of 17. First Published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2020, issue 23.)

Another hopeful outcome is that Sanji will simply not address it - but it certainly seems intentional that Oda has sent Sanji specifically towards Yamato, and I am certain that there is a reason. But, notably, Sanji had a meeting with Kiku in a similar vein, and nothing of note happened in that interaction.

I myself dearly hope that the day will not come where I look at this article and think, ‘This has aged horribly.’. I have a lot of faith in Eiichiro Oda to do the right thing - especially since almost 10 years has passed since his last major act of transphobia and transmisogyny. Surely, in today’s climate, and with the progressive nature of One Piece as a whole, he has learnt and is ready to write the LGBTQ+ characters that are respectful and progressive as a whole, without falling back on poor-taste punchlines.

As for now, only time will tell the true nature of Eiichiro Oda in 2021. Or, as many of us like to put it … "Who knows with this guy?!"

-

The Ohara Scholar / Róisí “Puppy” Law, 17th April 2021

[bogusavathepit]

Crybaby Avengers in Twilight (Pt. 1--Intro and on Rosalie) [CW: SA and Rape]

Already Known: 

Being the main relationship in this romance YA series, Bella and Edward’s relationship and Bella’s desire to live with him “forever” is the priority in the story. The relationship’s survival is the goal, and the only way they can stay together “forever” is if Bella becomes a vampire. 

 The Twilight saga features the gendered violence (like domestic abuse and sexual assault) against its female characters, e.g. Rosalie Hale and Esme Cullen.

What I’ve Noticed: The books structures many persons’ (not even just women--though most are) pain as either an inconvenience or a danger to the main characters and their desire to unite in settled romantic pairs or stabler familial groups. Whether those persons act ethically bad, good, or dwell in the gray (as people do). 

Almost every person who fights for whatever reason or doesn’t refrain from using violence as one of their first means of power, survival, or autonomy has their suffering or discomfort caused by BellaxEdward accentuate the goodness of their relationship more than without these characters’ suffering. No matter their moral status. 

AND the ship actually aesthetically thrives off others’ pain and anger.

Sources

The Twilight Illustrated Guide

The Official Site for Twilight (FAQs)

The Purchased Books written by Meyer, especially The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner

“Native Women of Twilight“ (Burke Museum)

Revenge

Violent revenge is often cast as definitively bad or unethical without looking into how it develops, as if the revenger does not have a history or development into that state of anger, especially when it’s coming from those with identities that weren’t or usually not given the higher(est) political leadership or the most desirable position in a situation (ex. Hamlet is a royal but is still just a prince vs Claudius the king, the supreme ruler or being one of the most attractive person in school).

However, I think that violence is the means that people might use when they observe/feel they have no other viable option to confront or redeem a wrong. To ignore that history is to risk its reappearance, like how if we how we place fruit out in the open and wonder why there is a sudden spike in fruit flies in our kitchen despite the windows being closed. If we feel trapped in our own misery and nothing changes, we tend to want to take drastic action, if even to just feel like there is something being done or that we matter and are alive.

The Twilight characters that I’m listing are really no different. even if a few of them are canonically morally gray or have been written as evil and/or unappealing.

The Aggrieved Persons I can Think of As of April 3, 2022.

Rosalie

Leah

Sam

Jacob

Victoria

Maria

Irina

Tanya/Kate

All of these characters had, at one point, presented themselves as contention-elements to the survival of Eternal BellaxEdward. And most of these characters enact some sort of vengeance against either or Both Bella or Edward. At the same time, Bella and Edward’s insistence on being together basically causes issues or worsens already fraught situations for each character.

How?

Rosalie Hale

Desire: To live as a human, have children, and live with those she loves dearly. For now in her vampire life, just to live with Emmett and her buffer-family as happily and safely as she can.

It took me some time to blame the beauty for what happened to me -- for me to see the curse of it. To wish that I had been...well not ugly, but normal. Like Vera. So I could have been allowed to marry someone who loved me, and have pretty babies. That’s what I really wanted all along. It still doesn’t seem like too much to have asked for (Rosalie in Eclipse, pg. 162).

Context

In the books, Rosalie is first hostile to Bella’s presence in her fear of Edward endangering the Cullens by insisting she stays alive and knows about them (because it directly disobeys the Volturi’s one rule). 

Explanation

But more than that, she reveals she is frustrated that Bella wishes to leave behind the dream life Rosalie herself wants: to live as human and having her own (bio) human family. Presumably, Rosalie also wants the mutability (”changefulness”) that human life has. Knowing that she can’t have any of that, she settles for having Emmett and posing as human as possible, which is what she needs the Cullens for. The Cullens’ goal of not feeding on humans came along with the need to blend in with them since Carlisle already was posing as a doctor and being altruistic, wanting to heal and help humans directly. The rest just followed him for less altruistic reasons. 

Rosalie may not be as altruistic and more interested in maintaining a specific sense of her own identity, but the Cullens are undoubtedly part of what she needs to have this sense of self. @panlight describes it best in this answered ask (that I can’t currently find.....)

So Rosalie is made out as selfish when it seems like she’s mentally stuck on the fact she will never be able to be human and live a life she wants. And her desire for Bella to choose humanity--despite knowing that Bella desires vampirism--comes across as just intrusive, judgemental, and perhaps controlling. We may look at her like we look at those who give unwelcome advice--without being asked--on a choice you’re already devoted to. 

As a vampire, there’s also no going back for Rosalie. So when we see her still resentful, some of us might have felt that she’s wasting her life crying over spilt milk and putting unnecessary stress on Bella for something that Bella has faith will make her happy.

However, like Bella, Rosalie also wanted to fall in love and live with someone she loved and who loved her. If we position Rosalie’s desire for “true” love as we do Bella’s desire for “true” love, I think it’s fair to say that they both wanted “true” love. It’s just that they had different ideas of what constituted that love and one has and has had more room to make that choice of how to get that love.

It’s not that she hated Bella, it’s that Bella seeks to leave behind all those things Rosalie yearns for. As if those things are meaningless. As if having a family and growing old to see how it develops is not necessary to one’s own fulfilment. As if Rosalie’s yearning itself is a joke and that all she values doesn’t actually matter in Rosalie’s experience.

Bella wanted to become a Cullen. Isn’t it ironic then (and maybe a bit vengeful) for Rosalie to purposefully make her feel like she isn’t part of the Cullens by ignoring her for the first book? What better way for Bella to be, at least opposed, then for her to feel like she can’t be apart of the group?

It may be childish, but I also think that Rosalie may have wanted to resist someway without directly antagonizing the others who would quickly dismiss her, whom she happens to also love dearly (Alice and Edward). I think she reacts with all that she’s learned how to confront.

Rosalie famously kills her sexual assaulters after she transforms. When she has the power to confront those who would have otherwise gotten away with an evil done against her, she eagerly uses violence to vindicate herself. Because no one else would have. Emmett maybe, but Rosalie looks like she couldn’t and didn’t want to wait for someone else to “fix” her issues. She also didn’t seem to believe that anyone would try in the first place, since she had just joined the Cullens. Carlisle is a pacifist, Edward had no compunction showing he disliked her, and Esme is no fighter (unless Edward/Carlisle is involved?). 

So, Rosalie is like a failed version of Bella and she seems to exist to contrast against her and put Bella into more focus.

I write more about why Rosalie has so much self-doubt HERE.

[hansols-yoda-boxers]

Heat Rises as Night Cools

Minghao x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3990

Contents: teasing and general cheekiness, dom svt, marking, light bondage, slight choking, breast play, fingering, oral (female receiving), slight edging, unprotected sex

Note: @tidalstorm I’ve been holding off on saying it until I could post this so happy birthday! I hope you enjoy this you truly wonderful human being. You’ve always been so kind and sweet to me and it’s just the most wonderful blessing to have you in my life. I love you dearly.

The late afternoon sun warmed your sun and you turned your head, your eyes leaving the scene of the road ahead of you and the ocean that seemed to stretch on forever and landing on Minghao. The warm light lit his features in a way that made you think he might be one of the most beautiful creations on Earth, highlighting the shape of his cheekbones, the line of his neck, the curve of his lips with the faintest hint of a smile as he hummed along to the song on the radio.

You let yourself admire him. You did that a lot. As you took in his beautiful form you thought about his beautiful mind. You thought about the way he managed to express himself so well through art, the way he captured his mind and his heart so well in his paintings. How his photographs let you view the world through his eyes for brief moments. How his dancing was always brimming with emotion, so much so you could feel it, follow the story he was trying to tell as he moved in time with the music.

Minghao shook his head, shaking his bangs gently out of his eyes. A quick glance from him caught your gaze, caught you staring and lost in your own thoughts until he let out a lighthearted giggle that danced through the air.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“You,” you hummed, a smile tugging at your lips. “Just… you.”

His smile mirrored yours as he reached a hand over to squeeze your thigh, hot from the sun streaming in the open windows of the car. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before shifting back to the road.

“Good things I hope?” he mused.

“Always,” you hoped he heard the smile in your voice, the fondness you had for him.

The sun slipped lower in the sky as you drove into town. You took in the tall trees that lined the street, changing to taller buildings as the city sounds filled your car. You admired the way the sun left its lasting warm glow on Minghao’s skin as he pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, rolling up the windows after your long drive.

He leaned over, a grin playing at his lips before he kiss you tenderly, a hand coming up to hold your jaw and for a moment, you let the rest of the world fall away and focused only on the scent of his cologne, the feeling of his lips on yours, the way he conveyed so much love through such a simple act.

He pulled back too soon, letting out a chuckle at the way you chased his lips for more.

“Soon,” he hummed against your lips before pulling back. A pout pushed out your bottom lip but he missed it as he got out of the car. You sighed and followed him out, already missing the feeling of his lips, his warmth. Minghao was already pulling your suitcases from the trunk by the time you got back there. You grabbed a few of the stray bags before he closed the trunk, finally catching the pout on your lips, and smirking slightly in response.

You followed him into the hotel’s lobby, letting your eyes wander to the marble-like pillars and wondering if they were real marble as Minghao headed to the desk. You let him go about getting the room key as your eyes followed the gold trim that ran along the seams of the ceiling until your eyes fell to Minghao’s expectant expression, beckoning you to follow him again.

You made your way into the elevator, closer to him now to make space for your suitcases. You couldn’t help the way your eyes wandered now, tracing the line of his shoulders along his neck. Taking in the shape of his jaw to the outline of his lips as you leaned just a little closer, noticing the smirk that curled them and up to his eyes, a hint of something heated in his gaze as the elevator chimed and the doors open, breaking the moment of tension.

He threw you a glance, one that had you trying to figure out what was happening in his head, as he led you from the elevator. You followed down the hall, close behind him and wishing you had a free hand to reach out and touch him. Your mind was beginning to flood with thoughts of his lips on yours, his hands on your body, pulling you closer, the heat between you.

It took far too long for your liking to make it to the end of the hallway. Still, as Minghao pushed the door open you couldn’t help but let out a small gasp at the view. The room, high up over the city, has a large window overlooking it. The room was doused in the oranges and reds of the setting sun the view of which was on full display. You missed the way Minghao’s smile softened as he took in your reaction, slipping off his shoes.

“This is… Minghao this is beautiful.” 

His lips pressed to your cheek. “Only the best for my love,” he hummed. You tried to turn towards him for a kiss but found him pulling away, something a bit mischievous in his eyes.

“I’m going to freshen up a bit.”

He must have been teasing you. He always seemed so aware of your body, the ways you leaned into him, the way you focused on his lips and stared at him when you wanted him. You knew he was doing it on purpose but before you could protest, before you could grab him and kiss him he’d disappeared into the bathroom, if only to make you wait, to make you more needy by the time he returned.

A pout tugged at your bottom lip again as you wandered into the room, looking around and feeling restless as you waited for him. You moved into the light of the setting sun, pouring over the bed. Your hand trailed over the sheets, still slightly warm from the sun’s rays as you glanced back to the bathroom.

You let yourself down on the bed, sitting at the edge and trailing your fingers over you hems of your shorts. The gentle feeling of your fingertips just grazing over you skin made you sigh quietly and you shifted a little, pressing your thighs together and wondering if Minghao would be annoyed if you started without him. It would serve him right for making you wait when he already knew exactly what you wanted.

You let your eyes slide shut, a reddish-orange hue on the backs of your eye lids, as you trailed your fingertips along your thighs. You drew the gentle caresses over your shorts and up your sides, relaxing fully at the feeling and feeling ever more excited when you heard the bathroom door open. A smirk graced your lips but you didn’t open you eyes just yet, pretending not to notice.

You heard the footsteps stop as you drew your fingertips down your neck, tilting your head away from him ever slightly to entice him further. You knew he was watching you now and you let out another quiet sigh for good measure. Your fingertips came slowly up your sides again, this time lifting your shirt just a bit before letting it fall back down over your torso.

You couldn’t help the grin that drew across your face as you heard Minghao move closer. His hands found your wrists and with one smooth movement he pressed you down to the bed, holding your wrists down to the soft fabric of the bedspread above your head. You opened your eyes to gaze up at him, now finally seeing the heat you wanted to in his eyes. His expression had grown hungry and it was only more pronounced from the oranges and reds that danced along his skin as the sun kissed the horizon.

“I didn’t say you could start without me,” he murmured playfully.

“And I didn’t say you could leave me hanging, and besides,” you pressed your thigh up between his legs, grinding it against him and earning a breathy groan. “You can’t pretend you didn’t like the show.”

Minghao’s grip tightened just a bit around your wrists as he shifted quickly, moving between your legs. He brought his lips to yours, but only brushed them lightly before starting to trail kisses along your jaw instead.

“I’ve got you pinned down and you’re being mouthy?” he mused, a smooth murmur in your ear that sent arousal rushing down your spine.

“Don’t you like my playfulness?” you teased. “Isn’t it-” your words broke off into a quiet moan as Minghao’s lips latched to a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. Minghao hummed against your skin, sucking a little more harshly. He let his hips roll slowly, grinding against your clothed core and bringing some much needed friction to your increasingly needy core.

You let your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your neck and the slow movements of his hips, even if they were a little slower then you’d like. You pressed your hips up against him, meeting his movements and letting another moan fall from your lips, though it turned into a frustrated whine as Minghao pulled back, a smirk painted across his lips.

“You’re already so needy, angel,” he teased.

You tried to move your wrists, wanting to pull him down and kiss the smirk right off his face, but his hands didn’t move and he only grew more smug as you tried not to let your squirming become too obvious.

Minghao lowered his lips to brush against yours again. “Don’t bother trying to distract me with kisses,” he murmured. “It’s not going to make me forget that you’ve decided to test my limits today.” He moved his lips to your neck, kissing at the spot just below your ear and drawing a whine from your lips as he started to speak again. “Maybe I should just tie you up. I know you’ll get frustrated if you can’t touch me.”

The idea was thrilling and your lips betrayed you, letting a moan pass them. You felt Minghao smirk against your skin, leaving one last kiss before climbing off of you.

You laid there, dazed for the moment until your eyes fluttered open and you followed the sound of a zipper. Minghao was digging in his suitcase for a moment before spinning around with a grin on his face and ties in his hands.

You couldn’t help the way your heart raced as he approached the bed, you bottom lip catching between your teeth as you took in the smug grin on his face, the way the room was darkening as the sun slipped lower past the horizon and how cooler purples and blues began to fall across the room.

Minghao climbed over top of you, your body full of too much anticipation to consider moving to gain the upper hand, too excited to see what he was going to do, but not about to admit it. He kissed the corner of your mouth gently as he grabbed your wrists again and pulled them up towards the headboard. You felt the smooth silk of his tie wrapping around your wrists and his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he tied the knots, then reaching further to tie them to the headboard.

His gaze met yours, a slow burning lust and what you knew was endless patience to make you come undone lit his eyes. As the colours on the walls slowly cooled Minghao’s gaze only seemed to heat up. He let his fingers trail down your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake and he smirked at the way your breath hitched when he brought a hand to grip your jaw firmly.

“You’re cute like this,” he hummed. “I should tie you up more often.”

“I made it easy for you,” you teased, sounding more confident than you actually were. “I could have played hard to ge-” A gasp took the place of your words as Minghao’s hand slipped down to your throat. He pressed down with light pressure as his lips met yours in a heated kiss. He smirked against your lips at how eagerly you let his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. You just barely held back the sounds that were threatening to slip out of you as he kissed you dizzy, leaving you dazed as he pulled you back.

“You already look so affected, angel,” he chuckled, before leaning down to kiss along your neck.

“I’m fine, just enjoying my boyfriend,” the words came out far more breathy than you meant them to and his chuckles assured you that he had picked up on it.

Minghao’s hands trailed gently down your sides as his lips sucked harshly at a sensitive spot on your neck. Your eyes slid shut against the purples and blues splashed across the ceiling and a sigh left your lips as his fingers found the hem of your shirt. He slid his hands underneath, running them over your skin and up to your chest, pushing your shirt up with them. You pressed up into his touch ever slightly as his lips moved down to kiss at the tops of your breasts.

His hands kneaded the flesh softly over your bralette as he sucked a mark into your skin. You felt his fingers curl into the fabric and slowly pull them down, then wasting no time in taking one of your nipples into his mouth. His fingers found your other nipple and he rolled it slowly as his lips sucked and he ran his tongue over your sensitive bud.

You let out sighs and quiet whines as your body started to arch up into his touch. The room fell darker by the second as the last rays of sunlight disappeared beyond the earth’s curve to warm someone far away, leaving the two of you in the quiet, dark, comfort of your room as he kissed across your chest before taking your other nipple into his mouth and you allowed the comfort and the pleasure to seep into your body. 

Slowly, his lips started to move lower, trailing just behind his fingers, tracing words across the skin of your stomach. They stopped as they reached the waist of your shorts, his lips parting from your skin but your hips lifting and answering the questions before he could ask it. You gazed down at him, catching the smirk on his lips, highlighted in the white-blue light of the moon that poured through the window now.

He pulled off your shorts, taking your panties with them and as he pressed your legs open you felt a rush of heat run through you. His lips sucked gently at the top of your inner thigh as he brought his fingers to your core, dragging them through your folds slowly. He hummed contentedly at the whimper that slipped past your lips and the way you squirmed slightly.

“Have I been keeping you waiting?” Minghao teased.

“If you had taken too long I may not have had to wait at all,” you replied, voice admittedly a little shaky.

“Careful what you say, angel,” he warned. “I can decide not to let you cum.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” you said, bluffing only slightly. “You love seeing me cum, you can’t get enoug-”

A moan fell from your lips as Minghao sunk one finger into your heat, easily curling it into the most sensitive spot.

“Try me.”

His head dipped between your legs and his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently. You let your head fall back and your eyes slide shut as he moved his finger expertly. His tongue ran over your clit, teasing you and drawing moans from your lips.

Your hands started to pull at your binds. As Minghao worked you up your need to touch him grew. You wanted nothing more than to dig your fingers into his hair and hold him there, to moan out his name until he was too entranced and desperate not to make you cum. But the ties around your wrists held fast and Minghao held your hips down as you tried to grind against his finger and mouth.

He moved slowly, too slowly, as he added a second finger, stretching you out. He moved his lips back and flattened his tongue against you instead, dragging it over you clit in a slow rhythm that was raising your desperation by the second.

You held back the curses that threatened to roll off your tongue as Minghao curled his fingers more quickly, focusing on the spot that had your hips trying to buck and roll into his hand. He moaned against your core as you clenched around his fingers, but still moved too slow and you inched closer to your edge at an excruciating pace, all patience starting to drain from you, feeling yourself hitting a maddeningly high plateau, so tantalizingly close to your release.

Quiet whines and high whimpers slipped past your lips in increasing numbers. Your back arched up off the bed and your hips struggled to move against Minghao. His tongue dragged over your clit in slow motions, each one sending sparks of  pleasure through you as his fingers curled inside of you. You gripped at the binds around your hands as you squirmed, coming undone little by little.

“Not so mouthy anymore,” Minghao purred, his lips brushing against your clit and a third finger pressing slowly into your heat. Your lips parted in an act of betrayal, letting your moan free from your throat. He chuckled and you let your head fall to the side, though a part of you desperately wanted to ask him for more.

“You have so much attitude today,” he mused, fingers moving slowly deeper into your heat. 

“Here I am, treating you so well and then there’s you, starting before me, being mouthy, and now not answering. I should just keep you on this edge all night.”

“Noo, fuck,” you couldn’t stop the words as they left your mouth in the midst of a whine.

“No?” he hummed, waiting. You finally looked down at him and the sight of his plush lips, shining with your arousal and his hair not nearly tousled enough at this point and the smirk evident on his lips lit by moonlight all had you clenching around him.

You groaned frustratedly and let your head fall back before you had to see any more smugness on his face. His fingers slowed even more and with a final kiss pressed to your clit he pulled them from your heat. This time you bit down on your lip to stop your whine and after a moment or two you felt the bed shifting and Minghao climbed over top of you.

Your eyes fluttered open and you felt heat rush through you. Minghao’s expression was much sweeter and more loving than you had expected, and with such an intensity it caught you off guard. He leaned down, his lips finding yours, and he kissed you deeply, settling his hips between your legs and grinding his cock against you slowly. You let out sighs against his lips, so incredibly sensitive and ready for more and your hands started to pull at the ties around your wrists again.

When Minghao pulled back from the kiss his lips were still brushing against yours, still so close.

“Please untie me,” you spoke before he did, softened by his sudden tenderness and expression of love after so much teasing back and forth. “I want to touch you.”

He smiled and reached up pushing your shirt and bralette up with his hands, fingers brushing against your wrists as he undid the ties until you felt them slacken around your wrists. His lips found yours as he kissed you again, so sweetly and tenderly you might have swooned were you not already on your back. He slowly wrapped his hands around yours and brought them down to your chest before leaning in and kissing you again.

He slowly released your hands and you finally wrapped them around him, one tangled into his hair and pulled him closer. The other slipped between your bodies, finding his cock and pumping it slowly a few times before guiding it through your folds and aligning it with your entrance. Minghao rocked his hips forward, slowly pushing into you and you both let out soft moans against the other’s lips at the feeling, taking a moment to savour the sensation of him inside you before you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Minghao started to move slowly, pulling his hips back before thrusting into you, slow and deep. Your one hand gripped his hair tightly as you gasped against his lips, your other traveling up his back, nails digging into his skin. He arched his back, grinding into you a little harder, a little deeper.

Each movement and thrust sent pleasure coursing through you, a slow burning pleasure that curled tightly in your core, drawing you closer and closer to your release. You clenched around him, tightening your legs around his waist. Your kisses grew sloppy as you moaned into his mouth and held him close to you.

“You were right,” he murmured breathily against your lips.

“About?” you hummed.

A grin tugged at his lips. “I want to feel you cum so badly.”

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips, though it was short lived. Minghao’s hips moved faster, picking up a quicker, steady pace that was still just as deep. You let gasps and moans pour from your lips as his found your neck, sucking at your sensitive skin and muffling his own low groans in the process.

Your back arched and your hips ground against him as best you could as he started to chase his high, your fingers digging into his hair and back, your legs squeezing around his sides, and his name cascading off your lips all drawing him closer to release. He kept a hand on your hip, holding you close, securely while the other started to move.

You felt his free hand slip between your bodies, too enveloped in your pleasure to think too much about where it was going. His fingers slipped down your lower stomach and between your legs and intense sparks of pleasure joined every other sensation in your body as they found your clit. You threw your head back amid moans and gasps of “right there” and “don’t stop.” Minghao’s lips broke away from your neck, the sound of his beautiful moans sending you over the edge.

You arched up against his body, a series of sounds falling off your lips as you crashed over the edge into pure bliss. Pleasure washed through your body, consuming you as you clenched down around Minghao, holding him close and grinding your hips against him as he released deep inside you, your name falling off his lips in moans, then quiet whimpers.

As you came down from your high you nuzzled your face into his hair, leaving soft kisses on his head until he pushed up enough to see you and pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

“You’re so lucky,” he murmured.

“I know I am,” you hummed, grinning. “But tell me why anyway.”

“I’m too deeply in love with you and your body to really entertain the thought of not satisfying you.” His hand squeezed your hip as he kissed you again, grinding his hips into you slightly and drawing gasps and trembles from both of you. “I’m too endeared to you.”

“What a coincidence,” you smiled. “I feel the same way.”

He smiled against your lips. “Lucky us, my love.”

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Vampire Mitch/Bloodwhore Stiles; putting it under a cut with warnings for like. Everything lol (but mainly some mentioned self-harm and dub-con in a few spots. And also it’s like 3k long)

The general set up is this: Mitch frequents goth clubs in search of victims to feed on, because that’s the easiest way to find willing prey. One night, he meets Stiles, and is intrigued by the scent of blood on his skin. Later, he finds out it’s because Stiles is cutting, and that night he tried to kill himself, after his father’s recent death, but he couldn’t do it. Then he meets Mitch, and thinks/hopes Mitch will do it for him. 

When he was finished, Mitch cut the pad of his thumb on a fang and rubbed it over the bite. It would stop the bleeding, and Stiles would be healed by morning.

"Look at me," Mitch said, cupping Stiles' cheeks. His eyes were glazed, the glamour already working.

"You're not going to kill me?"

"I told you I wouldn't."

"Oh." Mitch could have sworn he heard a note of disappointment in Stiles' voice, but that wasn't his concern anymore.

Mitch isn’t interested in leaving a trail of bodies; that’s a quick way to attract hunters, and he likes living in peace, thank you very much. 

He sees Stiles a very different times before it becomes a regular thing. Even after taking his memories the first time, Stiles is drawn to him, and he keeps coming back.

Mitch has no guilt for what he’s doing with Stiles; he’s totally fine letting his pretty boy cut himself when it means he can lick up the blood, and Stiles is perfectly happy to be his blood whore. It gives him a sense of purpose again, it makes him feel needed, giving him something he needs to survive. (Though as we saw in the above snippet, Mitch doesn’t need Stiles when he can get blood from anyone, reminding him of his place.) But Stiles doesn’t need the reminder; he knows Mitch could easily find someone else. But this is the most content he’s felt since his dad died, so he’ll take whatever he can get. 

But poor Stiles felt so alone and useless after his dad died and his friends moved on, so why keep going, right? But now he has a reason to live. Even if it’s not a good one, it’s good enough for him, and Mitch is happy to keep him around like a beloved pet. 

Mitch pushed up Stiles' sleeve, his fingertips brushing along the lines of scars. There were dozens, too many to count, some deeper than others. Nights when he had been more determined, no doubt.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" he asked softly, watching blood bead along a fresh cut that Stiles had hastily tried to hide, jerking down his sleeves and crossing his arms even when it pained him to do so.

Stiles was ashamed of his weakness, his pale cheeks showing his humiliation. He didn't try to pull away now that his shame was bared; there was no point, nowhere left to hide.

"To feel something, I guess."

"I could smell the blood on you when we met. I didn't know why." Mitch looked up at Stiles, understanding in his dark eyes. "You wanted me to kill you that night, didn't you?" Slowly, Stiles nodded.

"I couldn't do it… I tried, but I couldn't. I thought it would be easier if something else made the choice for me."

Mitch bit his lip then tenderly kissed Stiles' arm, smearing his blood over the wound so that it would heal. When he sat back up, Stiles had tears in his eyes; he gave Mitch a watery smile.

"I like it when you bite me, you know. It didn't hurt that first time. I thought it would, but it felt… I don't know. Better than this. Will you do it again?

"If Mitch were a better man, then he would leave his lover, get him the help he so dearly needed. Instead he let Stiles climb into his lap, folded into him and held Stiles closer. Turned to gently sink his teeth into Stiles' wrist when he offered it, petting his hands down Stiles' back when he shivered from the elation.

Mitch is Complicated. On the one hand, he does like Stiles, and wishes he weren’t so sad that he turned to self harm. On the other hand, he’s a selfish creature by nature, and he can’t deny that he benefits from it. Pretty soon, though, Stiles trades his blades for Mitch’s fangs. 

Then one night, further into the relationship, but not far enough that Mitch has Feelings yet (so he’s still a soulless prick), Stiles starts asking some morbid questions. Eventually Mitch says something like if he wanted to, he could keep Stiles young and beautiful forever. And that’s the end of the conversation; he doesn’t offer to do it, and Stiles doesn’t ask, thinking that if Mitch wanted to keep him around that long, Mitch would offer to. So he’ll just content himself with however long he gets with Mitch before he eventually gets bored and kills him.

The blood ritual wouldn’t turn Stiles; he’d be more than human, but less than a vampire. It would bind him to Mitch as his blood whore forever. But the catch: if Mitch dies, so will Stiles. Interdependence at its finest. 

But as far as Mitch is concerned, Stiles is a sweet snack pack with the added benefit of sex, and feeding while fucking is quite the high; it’s not something he’s had in a long time, because he doesn’t like to sleep with someone and then take their memories of the night. He does have some morals. But he hasn’t decided if Stiles is worth keeping around forever, yet, which is why he doesn’t offer to do it. 

Changing tracks to much later in the relationship, which Mitch has caught Serious Feelings (but is still in denial). Mitch works in the hospital which is how he normally gets his blood, which his weekly outings being used to get something fresher than the frozen stuff. Then one day while he’s on shift, Stiles gets brought into the emergency room. 

Whatever happened, Stiles almost dies and Mitch realizes that he really doesn’t want to lose him. And not even because it would be inconvenient to go out and find someone to replace him, he just Really Enjoys Stiles (it’s okay Mitch, you can admit you love him) and he is unwilling to give him up. So he shoots Stiles up with his blood to help him heal/keep him alive, and after he offers to do the binding ritual for Stiles, to keep something like this from happening again, because he can not risk losing Stiles again. What if someone hadn’t called an ambulance? What if it had been just a little slower to respond? What if Mitch hadn’t been there? It’s not something he’s willing to consider; Stiles means too much to him. But Stiles just has hearts and sparkles in his eyes because Mitch! wants!! to keep him!!!

Once Stiles gets discharged and Mitch takes him home from the hospital, he’s still weak from the blood loss, and they should really wait before attempting the ritual, but Stiles doesn’t want to give Mitch a chance to rethink his offer. (He wouldn’t, but Stiles has self-worth issues). So they do it practically as soon as they’re through the door; there’s set up of course, preparations to be made, but as soon as it’s physically possible, they’re doing it. (Featuring bloodplay and ritual sex for the win.) 

My friend once asked if the binding out reinforce Stiles’ obsession with needed to be worthy of Mitch, or if it would comfort him, and it’s definitely the latter. The ritual is damn serious; it binds their souls, and it can’t be broken; it’s not something a vampire does lightly. Most never find someone they care about that deeply, that they would tie their lives together in a way that one can’t live without the other. Not when it’s so much easier to make a thrall, and have a similar effect. But it’s about more than having a slightly-immortal-human to feed on. It’s about complete devotion to the one person you want to spend eternity with. 

Mitch isn’t very emotionally expressive most of the time. Nothing extreme, anyway. His natural state of being is pretty apathetic, just as a result of being undead. But when he almost lost Stiles, he was devastated, and Stiles was just aware enough to see how broken Mitch was at the possibility of him dying. It’s enough to tell him Mitch really does care for him, that it wasn’t just an act to keep Stiles coming back, or a passing infatuation. Mitch loves him, enough that he can’t live without him. 

(Not back to the beginning of their story) 

Stiles could barely breathe past the hand around his throat, Mitch’s nails lengthening into sharp claws that savaged his skin. His smile was cruel as Stiles scratched at his hand, trying to pull it away.

“I like you, Stiles,” he said, sweeter than poisoned honey, “but I don’t need you. Don’t forget that.”

Mitch carelessly cast him aside, leaving Stiles to collapse in a gasping heap on the filthy alley floor. The vampire stalked off without so much as a look back, having already forgotten about the pathetic human pleading for him to come back.

In the beginning of their acquaintance, Mitch is Very Unkind at times. He has no problem using Stiles up and throwing him away when he’s done like a Capri Sun. He’s not always like that, a lot of times he’s perfectly nice, but he’s also a fickle bitch. It’s no wonder Stiles is so desperate to please, because now that he’s been with Mitch, he can’t imagine not having him again.

(Heads up for some lamb-to-the-slaughter flavored dubcon)

Mitch left Stiles feeling thoroughly used, curled up in filthy sheets with every part of his body aching. There was nothing left unscathed, from the welts raked down his chest by sharp claws to his aching insides from too rough sex. His fingers were cramped from digging into the sheets, a litany of bite marks spanning his neck and shoulders and thighs, angry red and still sluggishly bleeding, a perfect match to the thin scratches and cuts covering his chest.

Stiles curled up around a pillow, wrapped around it for comfort. He felt cold, colder than Mitch. His lover hadn’t bothered to heal him this time, not sharing the rejuvenating properties of his blood before he left. Tonight, he wanted Stiles to hurt. Even as he sniffled into his pillow Stiles smiled to himself; it smelled like sex and blood and Mitch, comforting even if he lover wasn’t there to hold him.

(That sounds worse than it is in context; Stiles likes the rough sex lol. But he’s also being super self-destructive about it, basically using Mitch as a replacement for his self-harm. Once Mitch figures that out, he’s sweeter during sex.)

Mitch is super dismissive when he wants to be. But he can also be kind. After that,t he next time he sees Stiles he’s very gentle with him, making love instead of making him hurt, and Stiles loves that side of him, too. Especially when Mitch stays afterwards, feeding him chocolate and giving him kisses as a reward for being his good boy, and making amends for being so rough with him. Sometimes he forgets Stiles is only a delicate human. 

There’s also the issue that vampires feel differently than humans. I keep mentioning that his emotions are dulled, because once you’ve been alive for hundreds of years, things starts to just... flatten. Which means Mitch can be incredibly callous, and not take into account how Stiles feels. It’s easy to treat him like an object. 

But no matter what Mitch does, Stiles is never afraid of him. Not even when Mitch probably tries to scare him; when he realizes he’s catching feelings, and doesn’t know what to with that, so he tries to push Stiles away by frightening him. But Stiles refuses to see him as a monster. But it’s not just that: what’s Mitch going to do, kill him? That’s what Stiles originally wanted, anyway, and now he would rather die than live without him. Stiles has zero sense for self preservation. 

(Mitch is... a little concerned about that, actually, when he realizes just how deep it goes. Stiles is the complete opposite to him, as someone who’s a pure survivalist, that only cares about himself and staying alive. Stiles cares about everyone else, and doesn’t care if he lives or dies.) But it doesn’t matter what Mitch does, as long as he keeps coming back, and that has him like woah. That’s A Lot for him. He doesn’t even really understand it, because he’s never felt like that about someone before. (Except Stiles, of course, he’s just in denial. He doesn’t truly get how deep he is until the hospital incident.) 

(And now to the end of the story, so to speak.)

After they do the ritual, part of the binding is that they can feel what the other is feeling. This means Stiles can immediately tell when Mitch is in a Mood, and knows just what he needs, and the reverse is true. Stiles deflects with humor, but Mitch can always tell what he’s really feeling. Now he has no choice but to consider Stiles’ emotions, and the bond takes away all the guesswork. 

Then of course the feedback loop is a thing. Mitch hasn’t been able to feel strong emotions in centuries, but like everything about Stiles, his emotions are so vibrant. He feels things so deeply, it’s a rush, and Mitch can’t get enough. It’s like a drug; he does something to make Stiles happy/pleased/excited and he gets some of that back, and it’s Great. (He liked pleasing his precious boy before, but now it’s Even More, and Stiles has to admit, he loves it. He thinks it’s cute the way Mitch does different things to see the effect it has on him, like a kid with a new science experiment. It’s adorable.) 

Unfortunately, the binding has an unforeseen consequence. 

Ronnie, the vampire that turned Mitch, finds out he has a new pet. Word travels, and it’s not every century someone is binding themselves to a human. And isn’t that just the sweetest *gag*. It’s clear Mitch adores Stiles, and really? Mitch of all people has fallen in love with a human? Ronnie almost doesn’t believe it. (He was probably very Vlad the Impaler back in the day. Dracula Untold kind of vamp.)

Ronnie thinks it’s pathetic. He thought Mitch was better than that. It was bad enough the way he used to get so guilty when he killed someone to feed, starving himself for days or weeks at a time until he couldn’t take it anymore, instead of killing whoever and whenever he wanted like Ronnie. (Little bit Lestat and Louis, but Mitch isn’t that much of a bitch about it. Maybe more Damon and Stefan; Mitch overdid it when he was first turned, then felt bad about it once he got a handle on himself, and went to the other extreme trying to make up for it. Now he’s equaled out.) Anyway, now Mitch has reached a whole new low in Ronnie’s eyes. 

So, he decided to pay Mitch a visit, see if the rumors are true, and finds him being all disgustingly domestic and in love with Stiles. Hardly the fearsome predator befitting a vampire of his status, and he is irrationally angry over it. Feels betrayed. The meeting doesn’t go well. Mitch tells him to fuck himself and stay the hell away from his mate -and isn’t that interesting. Mitch knows it was a mistake as soon as he said it, but he can’t take it back, can’t pretend like Ronnie didn’t hear it. He really has drunk the Kool-Aid; Stiles isn’t even just a bloodwhore for him anymore; he’s gone and fallen in gross, sticky love with the human. 

Ronnie leaves, but not for long. He decides to find out what it is about this particular human that’s got Mitch all ruffled and weak-kneed, and kidnaps him. He bides his time until Stiles is alone, Mitch nowhere near close enough to save him. Stiles wasn’t there for the initial reunion, but he can guess who Ronnie is; Mitch has told him about his life, and who he was before, when he was still human. About the monster that turned him. But he knows Mitch will find him. 

Mitch immediately knows Stiles is in danger, can feel his distress through the bond, but by the time he comes home it’s too late. They’re gone. The house is trashed, and he can smell Stiles’ blood, and he has no idea where they could have gone, and he can’t think because all he can feel is Stiles’ fear, and it’s driving him crazy because he doesn’t know what to do. Where to even begin looking for them. 

Ronnie starts off by torturing Stiles, knowing it will get Mitch riled up. Drinks his blood, makes him hurt. He’s not particularly impressed; there’s nothing special about Stiles, he’s just another human. Nothing he can see to make him worth tying his life to Mitch’s own, putting his own life at risk. Because just like Stiles will die with Mitch, the reverse is also true. 

Slowly, Ronnie begins to use his thrall on Stiles. He’s gradual with it, so that his slow acceptance of his new place in life feels natural. Stiles doesn’t even realize it isn’t, so of course Mitch won’t. Until Stiles is completely under Ronnie’s influence, a perfect little blood slave, who Ronnie keeps naked and chained to his bed. Not because he’s particularly interested, but because it keeps Stiles afraid, he knows it will kill Mitch to imagine the kinds of things he’s done to his mate. (Not that Ronnie would eve debase himself by lying with a human, he’s Better Than That, but that doesn’t mean he can’t have his fun in other ways...) 

Since it’s not so much physical feeling that comes through the bond, Mitch would have no way to know if someone else was touching Stiles, or if he was being ordered to touch himself, putting on a show for Ronnie’s amusement. Mitch would only know that Stiles was getting off, and assume the worst given the circumstances. But with how much Ronnie hates humans, and is angry at Stiles in particular for having one of his old “friends” whipped like a bitch, it wouldn’t be far-fetched for him to find someone else unsavory to play with Stiles for a while, and give him back his mind just enough that the fear bleeds through to Mitch. 

By the time Mitch finds them, Stiles is barely clinging to life. He’s slightly more immortal than your average bear, but he’s still only human, and Ronnie has been doing the bare minimum not to kill him, if only because he doesn’t want to actually kill Mitch (yet). He still hopes he can bring Mitch back to his way of things, and relegate Stiles back to the worthless bloodwhore he is. 

Mitch finds them mid-feeding, and Stiles’ heartbeat if so faint, Mitch would think he was dead if not for the fact that he was still standing. Ronnie has been keeping him weak as a kitten from the frequent feedings; Stiles doesn’t even register Mitch is there. 

Of course Mitch is going to kill Ronnie for what he’s done, Stiles watching in a daze from the bed, feeling like it’s all a dream, still under the effects of Ronnie’s compulsion. It finally breaks when Mitch tears his throat out, and Stiles is so relieved but he’s also so tired. And then Mitch is there, holding him, wrapping a blanket around him, trying to keep him warm. Gives Stiles his blood to help him heal, and Stiles sluggishly realizes Mitch is offering to turn him, but Stiles doesn’t want that, because then Mitch won’t be able to feed on him anymore - except Mitch doesn’t care, he just wants Stiles to be safe, strong enough to protect himself, since apparently he can’t, he failed, and he can’t risk that happening again so please-

But Stiles refuses, because it might not be important to Mitch, but it’s important to him, because it means Mitch still needs him, and if Mitch turns him, he’ll be taking that away. He’s half right; Mitch does need him, but he’s never needed Stiles for his blood. 

[megan-is-mia]

Hiya! may I please ask for 16 in manipulative for Yandere Cater please he's underrated

(I know this was requested before the Halloween outfits came out and I had this filled with a short drabble but I got bit by a plot bunny about Halloween Cater not respecting boundaries and it turned into something four times the length of the original fill. Please forgive me!) 16. “If you’re not going to talk, I’ll make it so that you can’t.” (Yandere! Cater Diamond x Fem! S/o)

As a young girl (Y/n) had heard the stories about the ghoulish gravewalker who roamed the church graveyard on stormy nights. How he was supposedly not entirely human, able to create duplicates of himself as easily as one might snap their fingers. The stories said that if you saw him that you better run and pray he didn't catch you else he bury you alive and screaming for mercy in his unholy domain. (Y/n) knew this yet she still ventured out to pay her respects to her dearly departed husband. They’d been childhood sweethearts, married for less than two years before a tragic accident stole her love from this world. Like clock-work, (Y/n) would visit his grave each week with a bouquet of flowers and tell him of her life without him. This visit would mark the one year anniversary of his passing and the stormy weather fit her mood perfectly. “Oh, Matthew the pain of losing you still plagues me every night. Some of your friends have offered to wed me so I will not live in disgrace as a young widow anymore but I cannot yet bear to become a happy bride again. Not when I still weep at the sight of the ring you gave me for our engagement after you finished your apprenticeship” (Y/n) spoke sadly as she set the lilies on her beloved tombstone and knelt to sit before the grave. “A beauty such as you should not be left to mourn so” A voice said from behind (Y/n), her head whipped around as she tried to blink away the raindrops that were blurring her vision. The speaker was obviously male by his voice but she couldn't make out any detail on his attire other than it being black as the night sky above them. “Pardon my interruption Ms (L/n) but I couldn't help but notice how down you looked. Even more so than usual” the man added. “Who are you sir? How do you know my last name?” (Y/n) said in a puzzled tone as she held a hand over her eyes to block some of the rain so she could see the man better and perhaps identify him. She was better able to see him without all the rain in her eyes but she could still not put a finger on who he was. He was wearing a hat with a veil attached to it making it difficult to see his face but a pair of green eyes stared down at her through the fabric. “My name is Cater Diamonds, my fair lady, I’m the gravekeeper of this cemetery among other things. And I assumed that (L/n) was your last name because it is Matthew (L/n)’s grave I see you visiting each week. You look too young to be his mother and you do not resemble the man enough to be his sister. So I must assume you are his late wife, correct?” Cater said with a wide grin that was visible through his veil. “Yes you would be correct in that assumption, I am his wife. And Matthew was the love of my life- is the love of my life even though he has passed. I know I must accept that he is gone forever and find myself a new husband but I cannot bear to do it. He is the only man I have ever loved, how can any new relationship compare to the bond we formed since childhood?” (Y/n) wasn't sure why she was rambling to Cater but it made her feel better. “Then I suppose the only thing you can do is find a husband who is more than a simple man. And in that pursuit I can assist you Ms (L/n)” Cater said, bending down and then sitting on the ground beside (Y/n). He stared at the young woman who only stared back at him with an owlish look and an agape mouth. “Forgive my forwardness but I have fallen madly in love with you over these past twelve months since your husband’s funeral” Cater added with a soft sigh. “But, we have only just met, I do not know you well enough for that” (Y/n) protested her face turning red with embarrassment at how abrupt this strange man’s declaration of love was especially when he’d also admitted to essentially stalking her when she was in her most vulnerable state of grief. She shivered at the thought that he might have heard her ramblings about how much she missed her husband and her desire to be reunited with him in death.

“Ah, but I know you (Y/n) I know you better than anyone else in this little town does” Cater said, leaning in close to the young woman’s face, making it easy for her to see the glow in his eye and the almost unnatural angle of his smile. “I know you even better than that foolish husband of yours. He did not deserve such a treasure as you, I will not be as foolhardy as him” he added grabbing (y/n)’s hand and holding it gently. “You go too far sir, I do not wish to speak to you any longer” (Y/n) said angrily, her face turning even redder now from fury as she yanked her hand away from the man and got to her feet with a huff. She would just have to come back to the graveyard another night when this rude man was not present and she could speak to her deceased love in peace. She began to walk towards the cemetery exit when she heard Cater let out a chuckle. “I wouldn't be so hasty (Y/n)” Cater said, making the young woman stop dead in her tracks before she forced herself back into motion to leave the graveyard with her dignity intact. “Don't ignore me, sweetheart. If you’re not going to talk, I’ll make it so that you can’t” this threat made (Y/n)’s stomach churl and she began walking a bit faster until eventually, she had broken into a sprint towards the cemetery gates. 

Cater was right on her heels, easily keeping up with her as she tried to flee from him. She was so focused on keeping distance from him that she didn't see an obstacle suddenly pop up in the archway of the gate and she crashed into it with a painful thud. Whatever the thing was it was grappy and she was held in place by… Cater? When she looked back she could see him walking up behind her, but when she looked down there he was with his arms around her.

“Nobody can escape the grim reaper you know, and no one can escape my shovel once I’ve seen them transpassing in this graveyard” both Caters said in unison. “I cannot let anyone escape, not even a pretty soul like you (Y/n) it is my duty to collect the souls of those who break the rules” he added the sound jumping between the two versions of him and terrifying (Y/n) to such a degree she couldn't do anything but quiver. “Don't be so frightened love, every rule has a loophole after all” the Cater who’d been chasing her said as he reached his clone and (Y/n). “If I make you my wife, then you’ll be under the same obligations as I but also be granted the same protections from the grim reaper” the Cater who was holding her continued for his copy. “All the dead below are ready to witness our union and make it legally binding” the original Cater finished as he grabbed (Y/n) from himself. “All you got to do is say ‘I do’ and give me a kiss. But I warn you if you turn down this offer, I swear that I will spend the rest of eternity keeping that pathetic human whelp of a husband you had away from you in the underworld. So think carefully about what you want to have happen love” Cater said, hugging (Y/n) close as his duplicate faded into the ground below them as if he'd never existed at all. “I…” (Y/n) trailed off, did she really want to go through with this? Agreeing to be wed to a madman who wasn't even human? Was it better to deny him in this moment and try to escape his clutches again? No, deep down she knew the answer was no. She was outmatched and all she could do is try and accept that. “...I do” she finally said, feeling her insides clench as she did so. “Wonderful, now for a kiss to seal the deal~”  Cater said gleefully moving one hand to his head to remove his hat and veil, giving (Y/n) her first real view of his ghostly white complexion and his heavily ringed eyes before he closed the distance between them by pressing his lips against hers. His kiss, was truly the kiss of death. (Y/n) could feel him draining the life from her and her eyes fell shut. She’d awake soon after deep in a coffin under the earth with Cater smiling down at her as he welcomed her to her new reality as an gravewalker's wife… THE END