#support is... completely unresponsive lol

[cobra-creampuff]

universal basic income save me. universal basic income. save me universal basic income.

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE HUSBAND x GN CELEBRITY!READER

— based off of a dream i had of a childhood friend/crush. hiatus not over tho lol.

— morally bankrupt reader. clingy husband. the usual yandere stuff.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who was your childhood best friend. Your parents shipped you two since you could speak.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who had a crush on you since forever. He doesn’t even remember a time where he didn’t get butterflies and an aching need to be the only one close to you

YANDERE! HUSBAND who’s the biggest flirt. He knows you the best. Although you were completely oblivious. He’d always try to be around you, compliment you, tease you.

He’d give you matching keychains, and would beg his parents to buy whatever gift he’d think you’d like.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who sadly had to move away for a while. He comes back during high school. And the first thing he asks while he’s there? To be put in the same class as you.

Now that you two are older, you finally started to notice how much of a tease he was. Always grappling unto a piece of your attention.

You acquiesce and begin to date him. Not necessarily feeling anything for the guy but thought it was high time that you finally settle down. It was the perfect storyline you could share once your ambitions were fulfilled.

That and cause your parents would only let you go to acting school if he married you.

Which you two eventually did before college. Was it rushed? Definitely. Did you even love the guy? Nuh uh. But you had places you had your sights set on. And he was the only path.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who drops out to be your full time househubby. His parents could always give him a job at their corporation anyways. There was no real pressure for him to study and get a job.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who almost always supports your acting career. Watching all your shows, movies, and interviews. Basically buying out all the merch you featured in. And paying advertisers across the globe to have your face plastered everywhere.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who unfortunately stops you from having any romantic or sexual scenes. Essentially blocking you from any roles that could be your breakthrough just cause it could have a tiny kiss or so.

Your anger at his blatant attempt to have control over you began simmering. Ever so slowly reaching the surface. Not improving at all when you found out he’d been trying out a job that his mother gave him.

Fuck the gifts. Fuck the yachts and cars he’d swarm you with. Why did he get to do what he wanted and you didn’t?

So you follow him to work once, only to catch him in a compromising position with a coworker.

You didn’t care about him or his business beneath the sheets really. So you had to thank the gods above that you knew exactly what and how to do the following act.

Cry. Scream. Throw things at them.

The coworker already left. Shuffling as they tried to hide from your anger.

Your husband is unresponsive. Catatonic. Even more of an excuse to hurt him.

You call him filthy, uncaring, the worst man to ever exist. Hell, even some of your true feelings come out as you yelled about how you regretted ever being with him.

You find out later from his mom that he had been framed. That this coworker was just trying to get money out of the heir.

Still, you wanted out. He had already served his purpose and you needed to expand your horizons.

A week later of radio silence from him as you prepared the divorce papers he walks in.

Covered in red his hands caressed your face,

“You called me filthy did you not? So I cleansed myself with their blood.”

[kidicaruslover911]

Chapter 4: Interwoven Nostalgia

Mizu x Fem!Reader

a/n: uhhh btw reader is 22, Mizu 23 and Taigen is like 26

fun fact i did my research and during the 17th century, a trip with a boat from japan to europe took AT LEAST 2 whole years if the weather allowed it plus the stops for repairs and refreshments. you had to sail all the way around east and South asia, just to continue around africa and then sail upwards towards the european continent. i thought it’d be cool to share that with you

story on AO3

summary: Hope y’all missed Taigen (I didn’t ����) a little more is revealed about the reader and her true occupations (idk if you could say it like that lol)

est. wc 9.1K

“I am owed my honor…” You heard an unknown voice announce.

”Then take it!”

‘What the hell were they talking about?’

Grunting in pain, you felt the freshness of the sea’s water brush against your face, slowly but surely beginning to regain consciousness as the last thing you remembered was a Fang charging right at you, his eyes locking onto yours as you cut his head clean off his shoulders.

Next thing you knew, your body was lying face down on the beaches ground, and you couldn’t seem to move a muscle.

When you tried to speak, your voice felt hoarse, and the words came out in a weak whisper.

Your vision was clouded and everything around you was a blur.

You couldn’t seem to catch your breath, but luckily, your heart was still pounding in your chest.

It was as if time had stood still, leaving you alone with your own thoughts.

Guiding a hand to your side, warm liquid soon covered it and you knew that it was only a matter of time before…scratch that.

You weren’t dying. Not yet. You couldn’t.

Bringing your bloodied hand back to your cheek, some of the scarlet fluid trailed down onto your chin, shaky breaths emanating from your lips, head completely empty.

With a fall from that height, your body felt like it had shattered into a thousand pieces, but you could feel that the majority of your bones had somehow stayed intact.

Why or how? You didn’t know.

A true miracle.

After killing one out of the Four Fangs, another one had set his eyes on your wounded side, noticing how much more blood would trickle onto the ground as the current situation forced you to perform literal acrobatics on the cliff’s landslide.

So what better opportunity than to strike your already weakened opponent in the bloody side of her abdomen? Strike you and not die.

He managed to do one of the two things he had intended to accomplish.

The Fang put your life a little more at risk, causing you to emit a piercing cry that echoed throughout the cliffs as you dealt him a fatal blow mid-air, completely dismissing the fact that you had no real support whatsoever before losing your balance and…

You had blacked out.

But apparently, not for more than a few minutes, in which the Four Fangs leader had died following another man’s appearance.

Wait- Another man? Other than the Four Fangs? Talking about getting his honor back?

Your eyes shot open immediately, a gasp leaving your lips as your blurry vision disappeared, looking over to just to be met with an unconscious and blood soaked Mizu with right next to him a stranger holding a katana over his head, ready to kill him.

If you had been attentive enough, you would’ve noticed the uneasiness in the man’s demeanor and how he wasn’t sure if this was truly what he wanted, but it was too late for that.

Fuck your wound and your ringing head, before you could even think about it, your fingers found their way around your katana, hardly helping yourself up with an annoyed grunt as you glared daggers at the stranger, running up to him as a battle cry left your lips.

His blade was about to drop onto your companion’s unresponsive body, right before he turned to meet your furious gaze, his pupils dilating as he looked he wasn’t sure to believe what he was seeing.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Your small fist had managed to land a harsh punch onto Taigen’s face, making him fall onto the wet ground as his little gang only eyed you in pure shock.

There they were again, chasing after your friend, chasing him with wooden sticks and stones when all he did was try and find something for him to eat.

Not on their watch. They’d rather watch him starve to death than even catch a glimpse of his round blue eyes.

Luckily you had somehow made it in time, hitting their leader as you stood in front of Mizu, your small body earning him somewhat of a shield and this time, you came prepared.

Your blue eyed friend didn’t like this. She didn’t like it one bit. She didn’t like how you always put yourself at risk just to try and protect her from whatever.

You had a smaller bag bound to your side and it was filled to the brim…with stones.

Enough stones to take on Taigen and his horde.

You may have been small but at the time your talent in throwing various objects with great precision was something you had already developed at an early age.

And at the sight of your unspoken threat, the boy could only scowl, hardly laughing.

“Oh, look who it is guys? The dogs savior!” The kid smirked. “Or should I say, the dogs owner? Must have lost his pup again.” He rolled his eyes, never leaving your sight.

His insulting words only made your blood boil even more. Your stance was unwavering as you grabbed onto one of your stones, ready to shot your shot.

“Mizu is NO dog! And I’m not his owner but his friend! He didn’t do anything wrong and even if he did, I won’t let scum like you beat him up again! If you want to get to him you’ll have to beat me down first.” You exclaimed loud and clearly as Taigen couldn’t care less about your friendly feelings and empathy for the boy.

”His ‘friend’, huh? Then I guess that you should’ve kept him on a better leash, Y/N.” Taigen spat at you as he slowly got up again, pointing at the two of of you.

‘That brat.’ So she won’t have it any other way…

You weren’t scared because you knew what you were fighting for.

You were fighting to protect your friend. Your one and only. You were almost sure that Mizu would do the same for you and therefore, you had no regrets.

“GET THEM!”

Not her, not her again’ He thought.

Was it a curse or a fury? A vengeful spirit or some sort of ghost?

Just what in the world was he fighting right now?

Where was the little girl he so easily used to beat up despite her never backing down and always coming at him until she was left unconscious?

Where were the little fists that tried to reach him but couldn’t because of his superior strength and height?

The girl he so easily threw onto the ground, years ago when she challenged him in company of her master, dodging quickly but never striking correctly.

Where were the long taken breaths because of your short endurance and burning chest as you desperately aimed your messy hits at him?

No where.

None of it was to be found. Little Y/N had died a long time ago and was never to be seen again.

Weakness was never to be seen again.

With the way some of your blood had covered your cheek, dripping down your chin…and the way your eyes held nothing but pure rage and hate for him, Taigen just didn’t know how to keep his composure anymore.

A woman? Attacking him the way you were? No.

There was simply no way. He wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow you to dishonor him.

Not like she dishonored him.

A disgrace, that’s what you were, sullying the purity of the blade you handled with such grace and care…but a woman couldn’t possibly wield a sword the way you currently did, it just didn’t make any sense.

And yet, you were.

Taigen’s breath hitched as he caught a glimpse of your gaze. Irises filled with murder.

This wasn’t your first time doing this.

Now each breath you took was short and calculated with the sole intention of killing the man whose defense kept on crumbling with each blow as you fought him away from Mizu’s body.

You made sure to make him stay on the defensive as Taigen could only question whose idea it was to teach a woman to fight with such skill? Or to fight at all?

‘Could it be…?’

It had to be her.

You kept approaching him with your weapon drawn, your eyes locking on his.

Despite your injury, you stood tall and confident, at least you tried to, ready to defend Mizu at all costs.

Lunging at Taigen, your sword flashed through the air in quick, precise strikes.

Taigen was able to parry most of your swings, but a few managed to break through his defense, making him stumble back, his heart pounding in his chest.

Your attacks became even more fierce as more blood streamed down your side, adding more fuel to your rage.

You moved with agility and speed, your sword cutting through the air like a bolt of lightning.

Taigen, on the other hand, was struggling to keep up, his eyes fixed on your blade as it slashed closer and closer to him.

Between your relentless strikes, you spared a glance at the crest that was embroidered onto his kosode, making you want to laugh as you almost immediately recognized and ‘remembered’ what school he was from.

The ‘prestigious’ Shindo dojo. Again? But of course.

Against all odds, Taigen managed to find his resolve and charge at you, swinging his sword at you with all his might.

The two weapons clashed with a deafening clang, and for a moment, it seemed as if you had almost lost your balance.

But you were not to be deterred, and countered with a swift swipe of your own, cutting his hand in the process and knocking the sword out of the his hand, sending him falling onto the sand.

A loud yell could be heard from him, the man grabbing onto his injured hand as he tried to stop the blood from flowing.

‘No…This can’t be.”

He knew who you were. His heart knew.

But his mind rejected the idea of you, a woman dishonoring him in such a humiliating way. It wasn’t even a legal duel yet you still managed to beat him, in such a weakened state too…

’How the hell is she still standing?’ You only glared at him, lazily dragging your swords in the sand before holding it upwards into the air.

‘She’s completely crazy…It that it? This is how I’m going to die?’ Taigen stared at you as he tried to back away, pushing himself backwards as your steps only followed his fleeting ones.

You stood over him, eyes empty, blade held high, ready to deliver the final blow…but something stopped you - your blade escaped your grasp, hitting the ground as your knees followed, your members becoming limb and your breathing hectic, making Taigen raise his eyebrows at you and stare at you in slight confusion and relief.

You almost forgot how much blood you had been losing lately and honestly, you doubted the fact that your stamina was the only thing keeping you alive until now.

At the end of the day, you weren’t immortal and your head felt way too light, making you place your hands on your blood soaked side once again as you tried to prevent any more blood from escaping, a nasty sensation getting ahold of your abdomen.

This sudden change in attitude gave Taigen the chance to snap out of his trance and quickly get ahold of your blade, switching the tables as he gathered his courage and decided to show no mercy, just like you did moments ago.

He was a samurai and he had gotten his honor broken twice now. First by Mizu and now by you. A woman.

This had to be a warrior’s worst nightmare. Just when would it stop? Now.

He was going to put an end to this continuous humiliation now.

Now was his chance, you were vulnerable, unable to resist or protect yourself, agonizing on the ground as your back was the only thing facing him.

Taking one last breath, he visualized how your blade would pierce through your spine, warm blood splattering onto the beaches sand as your body would simply fall limb, unresponsive, before he’d turn your form around, seeing the shimmer of life leave those same restless eyes of yours.

And it would be as if it had never happened.

As if no woman had ever eyed him with the indifference of an assassin, slaughtering yet again another helpless victim.

It would have never happened.

’You are a samurai, she stained your honor…and she showed no mercy whatsoever…no mercy… no mercy…no mercy…no mercy…no…’

…

He couldn’t. Watching your painful squirming, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

It didn’t feel right and even with the recent events, he wasn’t one to backstab an opponent.

He had more respect for you than that.

You on the other side were waiting for an impact to release you from your torment, only to feel…none.

With a conflicted sigh, Taigen set your blade to the side, kneeling next to you before hesitantly placing his hand on your shoulder, which you instantly slapped off.

‘He has the chance to kill me here…right here and right now…what the fuck is he waiting for?’ You thought.

The time to kill your enemy is when you can, and yet he still didn’t strike you.

Despite your almost successful attempt to unalive him, he felt…pity for you.

You were in a miserable state and no one deserves death in such circumstances.

Not even you.

“Leave…” You gritted through your teeth.

Mumbling something underneath his breath, a single look at your side was enough for him to tell that you were doing anything but fine.

“You…leave.” You had recognized him the second your blades clashed against each other, remembering the terribly arrogant little brat he was.

Sure, people change, but that didn’t mean anything.

You didn’t trust him one bit.

Sparing him an exhausted glance to the side, you didn’t understand why he wanted to be all helpful and caring all of a sudden.

He tried to kill Mizu. Someone you care about.

Honorable or not, he considered killing him and that was reason enough for you to hate him even more than you already thought you did.

Even if you were sure to have banned these memories from your mind.

If it wasn’t for that, maybe, and only maybe you would’ve approached him in a more diplomatic manner.

Yet some people only understand the severity of their actions when their own life is in danger.

Taigen was no exception.

Mizu was tougher than he looked and so did you.

None of you would die here.

Not on your watch.

And if it weren’t for your blood loss, Taigen would’ve been a dead man by now, that much he knew.

If he had to be honest, your cold reaction didn’t surprise him at all, but then again, he couldn’t let you die here like this. Or Mizu.

He couldn’t afford to let you die if he had the capacity to help you somehow, he just couldn’t, not when he almost died by both of your hands, which unironically earned you both a place onto his shameful rematch list.

The thought did cross his mind: Since there were no witnesses of your impromptu ‘match’, his defeat against you never happened. You never legally challenged him and therefore he never lost.

That was if you decided to keep your mouth shut.

Keeping this deduction in the back of his mind, Taigen spoke to you again, this time more insistently.

He may be a samurai, a ruthless warrior, but he was still human and moral ethics weren’t something he lacked understanding in.

”Listen…I know that I’m probably one of the last people you’d want to talk to right now, but this is only going to work if you let me help you. We need to get you a doctor…I mean, we need to get you both a doctor.” Taigen tried to speak some sense into you, grabbing your bloodied hand to get a better view of your injury.

He needed you guys alive.

You both owed him his honor now. One more than the other as much as he hated the thought of admitting it..

”I am a doctor and I- I don’t need your help…nor do I need your compassion, Taigen. I’m fine.” you breathed out, glaring at him.

You’d rather choke on a thousand acupuncture needles than to have someone like Taigen help you.

”Of course, you definitely look like one right now, especially with the way you’re just waiting to bleed out…”

While this guy was just halfheartedly mocking your statement, you seriously regretted leaving your medical supplies down town.

If only you hadn’t forgotten them in the restaurant…How the hell did you even forget something like that?

After a few moments, silence returned as Taigen tried to reason you again.

“Y/N, my point is just that-“

Before he could even attempt to finish his sentence, a large man with a shaven head, no hands and a wooden stick in his in his mouth came running at him with all his might, taking him by surprise and pinning him to the ground within seconds.

‘Ringo…’ You thought, weakly glancing up at him.

Unlike the sweet and joyful nature you had seen so far, right now, the man was furious.

”GET OFF HER!” He barked, keeping Taigen to the ground.

”WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?”

Ringo angrily glared at him, waiting for a response.

“Not me, NOT me. The Fangs.” Taigen hastily answered as he turned his head towards you and Mizu.

The large man only spared you a look, a shocked gasp leaving him as he immediately got off of Taigen, hurrying to kneel beside you.

”You’re the swordswoman from the death duel earlier! I wasn’t sure if you had already left the town but I you forgot some of your belongings in the restaurant, so I thought- Oh… oh no…” He trailed of as he saw the state of your abdomen.

”Miss…you’re-“

‘Swordswoman…Death duel?’ The words resonated in Taigen’s head yet he couldn’t make any sense of them as he silently rose to his feet, keeping track of the conversation.

Ringo was about pick you up in his arms but you stopped him with a movement of your hand.

“Listen here, uhm..’Ringo’ was it?” You panted, still holding onto your side.

He nodded.

Taking another deep breath, you spoke. At least you tried.

”Alright, then listen. My name is Y/N and I’m Mizu’s old…friend. Delighted to meet you.” You struggled.

Accentuating your words the best you could, you quickly explained how you and Mizu were ambushed by the Four Fangs, how Taigen tried to kill him and how you managed to keep him away from your unconscious companion, almost costing him his life.

”Thank you for paying attention to my belongings but…Mizu is dying. Your master is dying as we speak, my friend is dying and we can’t waste any more time here while doing absolutely nothing.”

Thinking shortly, you had made your mind up.

You could pass out at any moment now but since Ringo had retrieved your medical armamentarium from the restaurant, that saved you a lot of time.

‘Maybe I could try and…’ You trailed off before verbalizing your decision.

“We need to get him somewhere safe…somewhere I can treat him properly“ You emphasized as you gestured at Mizu’s motionless body to which Ringo furrowed his brows, rapidly making his way towards Mizu.

”Master…Master no…” The chubby man urged Mizu into his grasp, picking her up in his arms as her sword escaped her grasp.

“He needs your support more than I do and I’m the only doctor available here so I guess-“

At the sound of your offer, Taigen just had to say something.

Treating Mizu when you weren’t in any better shape? You couldn’t possibly be serious.

“What? No. Y/N, you can barely walk let alone stand for too long. You can’t treat anyone right now.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” You simply spat at him, making him protest even more.

“You won’t last a minute trying to ‘heal’ him and he doesn’t always need you to-“

“I already told you: I’m fucking fine. Why do you care anyways?” You let out an angry grunt, using your katana as a support to help you up again, more blood spilling onto the sand.

“Now why don’t you make yourself useful and help us get him somewhere far away from here?”

‘She didn’t change a bit. Still defending this dog at all costs.’ Taigen side eyed you.

You felt dizzy, but it was as if your body was moving on its own, with one mission in mind.

Keeping your friend alive.

Walking slowly walking ahead, a crimson trail sticking to your path, Taigen and Ringo were flabbergasted as they could only stare at you in disbelief while you let out sighs and breaths of exhaustion.

‘She can’t possibly care that much about Mizu… to the point of risking her own life…’ But he knew that trying to change your mind would be of little use, seeing you already making your way forward.

“There’s a shrine, up the mountain. He’ll be safe there.” Taigen murmured, taking Mizu’s blade and the Fangs leader’s broken sword with him.

‘I doubt that she’ll make it up there alive.’

Ringo also tried to persuade you from overstepping your body’s boundaries, claiming that he knew his way around some quick medicine too, but you refused to listen.

The only thing that rang in your head were one of the first words your master spoke to you.

”You’ve got a stubborn soul little one, I doubt that anyone could ever break it. After all, when I look at you, it’s as if I could see all the worldly desires in your eyes…I like that.”

‘Tsk…that woman.’

_______________________________________________

When you finally arrived at the shrine, you mumbled a quick prayer, excusing yourself for sullying this sacred place with your bloody form and hoped that whoever was up there, would help you keep your friend with the living.

Your friend.

What an hour ago seemed like an uncertainty was now crystal clear for you.

Mizu was still your friend. At least in your perspective. He must be, right?

Why else would you put yourself through such a hassle? Insisting on treating his wounds by yourself when you couldn’t even walk properly?

You cared for him, that much was true and you’d definitely go through the same alarming process for any other patient.

Right? Right.

Dismissing those insignificant thoughts, Ringo entered the shrine, Mizu seemingly having a bad dream as he called out unintelligible words in his unconscious state.

You followed them as you heard Taigen’s steps follow yours which made you halt in your tracks and have Taigen bump into your back, a confused expression on his face.

You only glared at him over your shoulder, not needing to say anything.

He was staying outside. End of the discussion.

Luckily, Taigen wasn’t in the mood to exchange any more words with you for now, and just rolled his eyes as he leaned against the shrines wall, giving you three the privacy you needed.

To your surprise, Ringo came prepared.

You hoisted a rug made out of straw over one of the wooden beams of the shrine, blocking out the view of Mizu’s body, away from prying eyes.

Ringo gently laid Mizu onto a blanket he had taken out of his receptacle, before getting some water to clean your blood stained hands and handing you your medical belongings.

While he was doing so, he couldn’t help but glance at your side. He just hoped that your endurance was as durable as you made it seem.

”Don’t worry. I won’t pass out on him.” You simply added, already feeling his anxious eyes on you.

“I have a patient to take care of and I will stick to doing so. You said you knew your way around medicine…if you could cook up some soup for him, with some yarrow and peppermint, that would be great.”

His eyes narrowed at your request. He trusted your judgment.

”I’ll add some elderberries. For his immune system.” Ringo nodded as you held a satisfied look at him.

‘Not bad. He knows the basics.’

Sitting besides Mizu, your first instinct was to unbind his scarf to check his pulse.

As you did so, it wasn’t too long until a surprised look rose in your eyes as you slowly took the cloth off, gently turning his head to the side while your cautious fingers grazed his rather…soft skin, checking his pulse as you let out a relieved breath.

He was alive. That was one fear out of the way.

But by further inspection you could only wonder.

‘His neck is so…delicate.” You thought, scanning his neck for an Adam’s apple only to find none, making you frown just a bit.

You made sure to try and keep a somewhat unbothered front since you didn’t want Ringo to notice your slight stupefaction.

Although…

Ok so, Ringo hadn’t really thought this through.

Taigen definitely wasn’t someone he wanted near Mizu since he tried to kill him and didn’t know that he wasn’t truly…let’s just keep it that way.

But since you claimed to be Mizu’s ‘old friend’ (?) and so ardently insisted on treating him on your own, he thought that you must’ve known something about that little secret of his.

Thinking nothing more of Mizu’s pretty neck, your hands moved to unbind his obi, asking Ringo to hand you a wet cloth you had sunken into some hot water, you carefully moved your friends haori to the side, making his injuries more accessible to you.

Some parts of the garment kept sticking onto his wounds, making the process take a little bit longer, your eyes getting bigger and your brows furrowing lower the more skin you unveiled, until…

”Ringo, if you could hand me-“ Sticking out your hand without looking at him, you spoke shortly trailing off as your breath slightly hitched, your eyes falling onto his exposed body with a scowl.

‘What in the world…what’s this?’

The man executed himself, paying no mind to the sudden shift in your voice as he pressed the wet cloth into your hand and started to cook up the medicinal soup for Mizu to drink later.

You quietly thanked him before returning your attention to Mizu, whose true identity didn’t really matter to you.

It was as if you didn’t care.

You didn’t care at all to be honest. You couldn’t care less because you were actually worried. Worried sick.

For his, no, her health. You didn’t utter a single word or at least, you were unable to because of how shockingly unsafe and painful those bindings looked on her chest.

For a second, you thought about removing them, but decided not to do so.

You felt like removing those bindings without her permission would be the most insensitive thing to do ever and so you left them as they were.

Yet the mere thought of her compressing her chest like this over probably more than just a few years made you sick.

’His, no…her ribs must’ve been completely compressed, her breast tissue damaged, her spine alignment altered…just imagining the chronic pain she had to endure, and overall the state of her lungs? How the hell did she even breathe with those on?’

You thought about all the medical consequences her bindings may have had on her as you asked Ringo for your needle and tread, ignoring how badly your hand was shaking.

It made you anxious.

Memories flooded back to you and you tried so badly to keep your composure, fighting back barely visible tears, starting to stitch her shoulder as neatly as you could.

“So it was you…” You whispered to yourself, a chuckle of relief gracing Ringo’s ears as you thought of a dirty job you never accepted and yet it was exactly that one job that had never truly left your mind.

In the end, you understood why she did it, why she had to get through all this suffering.

’Damn you, Mizu.’

Well, at least now you knew where her bad posture came from.

Minutes ticked away as you finally finished completely treating Mizu’s injuries and accomplished the unthinkable.

You let out a deep breath, letting Mizu’s apprentice know that you were done. Literally.

”Ringo, I…” You gestured at her clean stitches.

His reaction made your heart feel content.

“Oh my- You did it…you actually did it! You treated all of Master’s wounds! All of them..” Ringo stared at you with an amazement as you only gave him a tired snicker in return.

“Most of them were short but deep and he still has a high fever and cold sweats. I trust that with the combination of your foods and my treatments, he’ll be back on his feet in no time. He’ll live.”

Giving you a compassionate smile, Ringo spoke in agreement.

”Of course he will live. Master is the last person that knows how to die…”

“And it seems like you don’t really know how to either.” The man’s smile faded as his gaze fell on your side again.

You lightly caressed Mizu’s burning forehead, thinking of how lucky she was to have an apprentice like Ringo by her side.

Remaining a hundred percent loyal to her even though she was a complete stranger to him.

Remarkable.

And even if she stated that ‘he wasn’t his apprentice’, the little bell tied on the man’s feet said otherwise.

He told you about how she had bought it for him, because of how ‘naturally stealthy’ he was and how she’d keep on bumping into him all the time.

”Master said that the day I take that off, I’ll be discharged from my duties. I hope that that day never comes. After all, he is the greatest samurai I’ve ever seen and I wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s apprentice.”

Nodding silently, a beam rested on you face.

”Hm, I see. But why is it that you wish to serve him so badly? He may be ‘great’ to you but he can also be quite the difficult person you know…”

”Maybe, but I don’t mind”

Ringo’s answer was almost immediate and definitely took you off guard as you didn’t think he’d be such a patient guy.

“You sticked by his side until now too, no? Even though you just met.” He questioned, curious about your reasoning behind that decision but you didn’t answer.

”I want to become a samurai and be great, just like him. Just like you. You have the ability to save people’s lives and also to…take them.” His voice faded a bit on the last part.

‘Like me? Is that what greatness meant to him?’ You side eyed him.

His words reminded you of a less stressful time in your life, when you once so desperately pleaded your master to teach you her ways with a similar logic as Ringo just had explained to you.

You remembered the sole question she asked you at the time, a question that would decide whether yes or no, she’d consider to see as more than just a liability.

Your fingers were now attentively ghosting over Mizu’s cheek, eyes never leaving her almost peaceful form and scrunching your nose at the thought of your master.

You owed her your life after all.

Greatness…

”What does ‘greatness’ mean to you, Ringo?”

The question left your mouth before you could do anything about it.

”Well…” The man hesitated.

”You said that you wanted to be like Mizu or like me but what is it that he or I do… what is it that makes us so ‘great’ in your eyes?”

You made sure to use a masculine pronoun for her when speaking out loud, just in case Taigen would be listening in.

Speaking of which, you kind of wondered what he had been doing all this time.

Not giving Ringo a chance to answer, your own question somehow irritated you a bit.

You didn’t think that you were great at all.

You knew your worth, but a lot of your actions were anything but great.

Constantly disrupting the precious line between life and death was not something great.

It was nothing to be proud of.

Maybe it was in some people’s eyes but you just didn’t know what to think of it anymore.

At least, you made the majority of your money with that.

Some deserved that immoral disruption and in the end, you chose that path.

No one else.

After a moment of short silence, you slowly rose to your feet, a little hiss escaping your lips which alerted Ringo about your wound again.

”I- Miss Y/N, you should let me take care of it.” He pleaded, seeing you get up cautiously again.

Yet you ignored him, walking towards the entrance, your back facing him.

”Nothing great comes from being a samurai, Ringo. You are a good man with a good heart, but if you think that you’ll learn the definition of ‘greatness’ by following people like him or me…you’ll end up getting disappointed or even hurt very badly in the long run.”

You wanted to keep him away from any more bloodshed than needed but you knew that he wouldn’t listen.

“And I cherish your kind words, but I am no great person.”

A warning.

That was a clear warning, because you weren’t sure that he truly knew what he was signing up for by staying by Mizu’s side.

A path littered with death.

Nothing for a pure soul like his.

And you doubted that she’d have any interest in teaching him anything about ‘honor’ or ‘greatness’.

She wasn’t a samurai and neither were you.

The only person that could somewhat help him on the subject would be Taigen but he was anything but great.

You’d rather have yourself teach Ringo than that guy.

Greatness wasn’t something one could teach and everyone had a different opinion on the topic.

Standing in the middle of the doorway of the shrine, you took a look at your side once more.

It wasn’t bleeding as much as before but that wasn’t really a good sign.

Taigen was sitting on the front steps, turning to look at as you finally took notice of the bald spot on the back of his scalp, making the sides of your mouth quirk.

Huh…It all made sense now.

’Was this the ‘honor’ she took away from him?’ You mentally laughed.

Taking another step forward, Taigen could already see the snarky remarks coming and shot up from his seat, towering you with a mean glare as he stood in your way in order to intimidate you.

’This guy has some serious explaining to do…’

All you could do was let out a faint laugh, feeling your vision slowly darken which the man didn’t find funny at all.

”I was blind drunk when we fought and it wasn’t even a legally registered matc- oh… Y/N? Hey? Hey! Y/N??”

Before he could finish justifying himself, your barely conscious body fell straight onto him, resulting in Taigen having to halfheartedly catch you in his arms, worriedly calling out your name.

“Y/N?! Y/N- RINGO! Quick, she just passed out too!”

You may be Y/N but at the end of the day you were not immortal.

_______________________________________________

Later that same evening you had somehow woken up before Mizu, eyes flickering at the sensation of a magically stitched and thoroughly cleaned wound.

With the faint taste of medicine in your mouth, you pushed yourself to sit up, faced with a humming Ringo who had the touching idea to sew your kosode back together where it got ripped and washed all the blood off, the garment being perfectly folded next to you.

You were left in your black haori with nothing underneath. And your hakama of course.

It was your side that was injured and all he did was to treat it for you.

“Useful…” You muttered at him with a smile.

”Oh! Miss Y/N, you’re awake.” The young man noted as he returned his attention towards you.

“How long was I gone?” You rasped at him, feeling your throat being dryer than ever.

“About 5 or 6 hours actually. And yet you still woke up before Master. I made you two drink some of my medicine, and so, if you’re already awake I’d say that Master won’t be taking much longer.”

You nodded as you looked at Mizu’s immobile body, her expression being as relaxed as ever.

Clearing your throat, Ringo rapidly handed you a cup of water to rehydrate yourself before you let your eyes fall onto the kosode.

“My kosode…” You started as you looked at your folded clothing, feeling the fabric of your haori grazing your bare chest.

“I- I promise I didn’t look! Taigen came in at some point but I don’t think he saw anything he shouldn’t have. I just wanted to take care of your wound as quickly as possible. I don’t think anyone here would want you dying on us…”

Ringo panicked as he didn’t want you to think of him as some weird pervert that got his fill of your body while you were unconscious or anything like that.

Letting out a playful scoff, you paused him in his anxious rant. Ringo would be the last person you think capable of anything like this.

”Thank you, Ringo, for…not letting me die.” You thanked him with a light laugh “And don’t worry, I would never think of you like that.” Reassuring him with a touch on his stump.

Enjoying the moment of silence, you slowly but surely got dressed again, standing up again to which Ringo didn’t protest this time.

You were about to exit the shrine as you heard the chubby man’s voice echo in your ears.

“Miss Y/N…I have a question.”

You paused in your steps which he took as a green light to ask away.

“Earlier, when I took off your kosode…like I said, I swear that I wasn’t looking and I didn’t want to assume that you were a criminal but…”

”Give it to me in one sentence, would you?” You already knew what he wanted to get at and he could notice the dangerous shift in your voice.

“You saw my back, didn’t you?”

A defeated sigh met you, followed by a positive hum as Ringo didn’t want to touch sensitive subjects if you weren’t comfortable talking about them.

But he was still curious.

“Are you the person they call the ‘Damsel of Devastation’?” He asked innocently.

’The Damsel of Devastation’. The oh so famous yet mysterious female assassin that had been roaming Japan these past years, avenging women and easing their misery by killing their persecutors in exchange of a few coins.

It didn’t matter if one was a poor fisherman, or a lord with all the treasures of the world at his feet.

If a woman wished to be avenged she just needed to find a contact that would sort of lead her directly to you.

How? You didn’t know.

Maybe it was because of the many brothels you had stayed in…But all you knew was that even if you never stayed in one fixed place, they knew how to find their way back to you.

Rumors had it that a crane adorned the upper half of your back…How that came out was still a mystery to you.

‘Those gossipy prostitutes…’ was your best guess.

Fulfilling women’s unspeakable desires was what you did.

You had a sword and you knew how to use it. Confident and bold, a sight for sore eyes and yet so unpredictable. That was you.

And now, you had been caught, like a child with its hand in a box full of candy.

”Do you think I am?” Your eyes narrowed.

”’If by chance you see a crane on her back,then avoid her path or prepare for death, for it will attack. Avoid the path where the crane is seen, or a grim fate you shall soon meet’.” Ringo recalled as he saw your gaze darken.

Whoever came up with these lines must’ve been your biggest fan. Seriously.

You only laughed, turning to look at Ringo who held a serious expression on his face, leaving his question unanswered as you decided to take your leave.

”I’ll be taking a bath in the hot springs we passed by earlier.” You announced, amused by the man’s reaction.

As you made your way out of the shrine, you walked down the stairs only to find Taigen a few meters away, sitting in the snow and using a cut down tree trunk as a table.

‘Why is he still here…’ You cursed.

Seriously. Why was he still there?

A candle lightened his sight as he was writing something onto a paper.

No, two separate papers?

Mindlessly humming some tune, you walked up behind him, a hand quickly coming to cover your mouth yet the laughter that followed couldn’t have been more genuine.

You had to love Mizu for this one. She really fucked his up hair but not even in a bad way.

The cut was extraordinarily clean, didn’t even hurt his scalp. Excellent, just as expected from a swordswoman like her.

Taigen’s head snapped almost too quickly as he hadn’t noticed your presence yet your unrestrained laughing told him everything he needed to know.

“Well, I guess we can all see how ‘great’ you are from here now.” You giggled, pointing at the bald spot on his scalp.

“I AM GREAT! Mizu costs me my station and honor. I’ll have it all back when I return with his corpse.” He blurted, glaring at you like some spoiled brat that didn’t get what it wanted.

Looking over his shoulder, you read some sort of contract about a fight and…

”Hm. Forget it.” You spoke suddenly, reading the contents of the contract that held your name on it.

Getting back in front of him, the candles light illuminated your features, letting a hand rest on your hip.

“I didn’t kill you when I easily could have, Y/N.” Taigen started.

“So? That is your own burden to carry.” You retorted.

If he truly wanted you dead, he should have struck the moment he had the chance to. Sucks to be him.

”Your impudence truly knows no boundaries…Just shut your mouth and sit already. I’m almost done.” He gestured at you.

”Well excuse you, mister.” You rolled your eyes. “And I am not shutting my mouth. You already have my answer Taigen, I’m-“

“A contract for a duel. To be legal, registered and witnessed. The only thing left now is the date.” He handed you the paper as you scanned its contents for the second time, reading them out loud this time before ripping the contract apart, a fake smile finding itself on your lips.

”YOu-“ The male raged.

”I am no samurai and I couldn’t care less about that broken honor of yours.” You paused, taking in his murderous gaze.

“Mizu might owe you but I do not. I have no interest in stoking anymore futile conflicts with you ever again. And you are certainly not someone worth risking my life against.”

That hit him.

“If you truly want everyone to know that you got your ass beaten by a woman, be my guest but that will be your own lifelong shame to carry.” You spat at him.

You were being merciful.

You were sparing him from being publicly humiliated and he was being rather slow in understanding that.

Also you also just really didn’t want to fight him again.

He’s a pain in the ass. As simple as that.

Telling people about how you beat some big shot samurai was the last thing on your to do list.

“I’ll consider keeping this our little secret.” You added, finally disappearing into the woods, as you could sense literal steam fuming out of his ears.

And yet again, you had pissed off another man.

Seems like you simply couldn’t help it.

_______________________________________________

Enjoying the warm water that bathed your tired muscles, you let out a content sigh as the heat soothed your achy joints, and you closed your eyes, with your hair let down, allowing yourself to relax against a rock which supported your back.

Your clothes laid next to you, along with your sword.

You had taken your hairpin into the water with you, just in case something or someone might just feel like attacking you.

And you were right.

Soon enough, you heard the resonance of steel in the air and seconds later, you felt it against your own neck.

She said nothing but you already knew very well who it was.

Nonchalantly pushing her blade to the side with your hairpin, you scoffed.

She stood right behind you, towering over you while you simply sat in the water, not fearing any harm.

“Couldn’t even wait for me to finish my bath, huh?” You smirked, as she now held her blade over your head.

“Ringo told me everything.”

“You owe me.” You murmured, eyes closing again.

”…” Unfortunately, you were right.

”What do you want?”

”…An explanation.” Mizu rasped.

A chuckle erupted from your lips as you heard her request.

“Well, I guess that you aren’t the only one then.” The fact that she was a woman didn’t seem to shock you at all, not that she didn’t mind but it just made her even more suspicious of you.

Silence greeted your ears before she lowered her blade again, centimeters away over your head.

“The Fangs, I believe they called you the ‘Damsel of Devastation’.”

“Hm…” You nodded.

“I’ve heard about you and your ‘services’ and I don’t need a wanted assassin by my side.” She explained sharply.

”Bold of you to say, ‘unnamed samurai that cut through Shindo Dojo and had the Four Fangs on his back’” You mocked.

“Plus, you just said it yourself. I risked my life for you”

“I didn’t need you to do that.” Mizu replied coldly.

You shrugged. “Maybe, but a few minutes later and Ringo would’ve been met with a nasty surprise. Nastier than it already was.”

A short sigh was drawn by her as you just decided to ignore how stubborn she was being and simply get to the main point.

“Since you are so kind hearted and so ardently begging to pay me back for my efforts, I’ll just set one condition.” You cooed, still sitting in the water as you heard Mizu sheath her katana again.

At least she was considering to listen for once.

So you took your chance. This time a bit more formally again.

”Let me travel by your side…Please. That’s all I’m asking for. You’d have a free doctor, easier access to information and a vain beauty by your side.” Your eyes sparkled in delight, lightly joking on the last part.

“And needless to say that I know more than ‘just a way’ around a sword. Or any other weapon really. The choice is yours.”

Your ‘offer’ was tempting to say the least.(she knew that you’d keep on following her regardless of her answer) Mizu had to admit that you did have your qualities.

You had a stubborn soul, just like her…you were a doctor, a warrior…a friend?

Well, after your display of tenacity towards her, she knew that you were definitely still her friend.

But how could she trust you when you were one of Japans most researched killers?

Your true intentions were more than just vague to her but she failed to understand why you clinged onto her so badly.

“Is it a white devil that you work for?” She had her reasons for thinking so.

You hummed a ‘no’. You had no reason to lie to her.

Strange.

”Do you have a master who makes you want to risk your life, then?”

”Barely.” It had been ages since you had last seen that woman anyway.

“…”

”You keep me busy. I like that.” Well, that was only half true but she didn’t need to know that.

After a moment of contemplation, you knew that you had her right where you wanted.

You turned around in the water to face her, your eyes looking up as they met her rainy ones.

“How do I trust that you won’t kill me in my sleep?”

A mischievous smile graced your lips as you let your head rest in your hand, her gaze never leaving yours.

“You know, with all the dirty jobs I’ve taken on myself, there’s one that stuck out to me the most.”

Silence.

“It’s the one and only job I never accepted in the end but I still think about it from time to time…” You started, making sure she listened to your story.

”About two years ago, when I was passing by a small town, a person came to me for my ‘services’…”

”A woman.” Mizu’s voice cut through. “You barely kill for any men.” She added.

At least, that’s what the rumors said.

You nodded again. “A prostitute.”

“When she spoke to me at the time, she wasn’t really herself. She was frustrated and somewhat furious actually, as if she had been missing out on some precious ‘nutrients’…”

Continuing your rant, Mizu listened closely, trying to figure out what you were getting at.

”A drug addict. My best guess would have been opium.”

”…”

”Anyway, I told her to name me a price and you wouldn’t believe it: ten thousand koku!…”

Mizu only quirked her brow at the price.

“A bounty only few could resist.” You emphasized as she hummed in somewhat agreement.

“That was until I asked her who she wanted me to get rid of…so she explained how she was living with her daughter on a farm, married to a guy that lost his title or something like that-“

That’s when you saw Mizu’s body tense up, eyes glaring daggers at you as your words felt like the worst poison to her.

”Terrible mother if you ask me…” You continued mindlessly.

“She said that she had no use of her own daughter anymore, that her and her husband refused to give her any more money for her ‘medicine’ and how she struggled to feel any love or true affection for that same daughter…”

For some reason, she was hesitant. Her hand was hesitating to draw her sword at you again.

And you weren’t making it any easier.

”I don’t kill women. I give women satisfaction.” You husked at her as you could see how desperately she was trying to read your next move.

“Satisfaction that can only be obtained by their enemies bloodshed.”

Enemies that were often out of their reach and so, they needed a ‘latter’.

You didn’t think of yourself as a hero.

Other women did but you didn’t.

Why would you?

”She told me that her daughter would be easy to recognize…standing tall…strong…empty eyed…” You murmured, slowly making your way out of the water, furthermore revealing your glistening wet body, grazed with the illumination of the moon as Mizu subtly tried everything in her power to keep her eyes on your face only.

Not that you cared right now, really.

Moments later, your hand found itself ghosting its way on her shoulder, droplets of water falling onto it as your fingers found their trail onto her neck, continuing your very interesting story.

Meanwhile her hand was still hesitating about the thought of killing you right where you stood.

She wouldn’t dare. You knew it. She knew it.

Yet you were shameless.

Absolutely tormenting her with your oh so innocent yet harsh words and your calculated yet sensual touch.

But for some reason she couldn’t explain, she didn’t dismiss your intrepid hand. Not yet.

“Ten thousand koku, for a mixed girl with eyes colored like the deepest parts of the ocean.” You suddenly captured her chin between your slender fingers, making her look at you with her oceanic eyes, eyes that were currently filled with pure distress, disdain and…something else.

“I ended up telling her that I would see what I could do…only to leave the next day, having lost interest in her proposal.” You could see relief. Very slight relief in her orbs.

“To me, her daughter seemed to be some innocent woman, living her life with her husband while trying to keep her mother from drugging herself. Nothing worth fussing over.”

You finished with a tilt of your head.

You didn’t know if it was luck, or the fact that you had listened to your gut feeling, but at the time (and still today) you simply weren’t interested in killing off half breeds.

Especially when they didn’t do anything wrong.

Her hand shot up to grab your wrist tightly but before she could do anything about it, you leaned into her ear, whispering.

“If I tried to kill you, awake or asleep…you wouldn’t even think of letting that happen now, would you?” You smiled, your husky voice playing into Mizu’s uncertain mind as she could feel your warm breath fanning against her cool skin.

“Besides, what would I gain from that?” She was not going to answer that.

Seeing her absolutely unpleasant expression, a sudden laughter bubbled up from your chest, breaking the boiling tension at last and leaving Mizu completely bewildered.

“Pfft. Jeez, I’m just kidding. You couldn’t possibly have thought that I was being serious?” You snickered as Mizu’s grasp on your wrist loosened, her cold gaze returning to you.

”Hm. I barely laughed.” The woman answered indifferently.

“Well, yeah. I can see that.” You rolled your eyes, freeing yourself from her grasp as you covered your wet body with your haori again, finally showing some decency.

You took the rest of your clothes, Mizu handing you your katana with a puzzled look in her eyes.

Taking it, you finally walked away with a quiet ‘thank you’, shortly stopping in your tracks once more as you spared her one last glance over your shoulder.

”I just hope that whatever it is that this mixed woman is doing today…will leave her satisfied in the end.”

Not only satisfied but happy.

That’s what you truly wished for whoever that woman may have been.

Mizu didn’t feel the need to answer any of that. You had spoken enough nonsense to her today and she just wished to be left alone right now.

“Oh, and don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

And after chirping her a quiet ‘good night’, you finally left, leaving her by herself to recollect her numerous thoughts you had so aptly disheveled.

‘Defeat is a cute look on her face…’

a/n: uhhhh idk how to feel about the way i wrote the whole ‘mizu is actually a woman??’ scene. i was very unsure while writing it too but I hope you guys didn’t find it too bad. I just didn’t want the reader to make such a big fuss out of it but rather be more subtle about it.

Masterlist | Next Chapter

[senseearly]

I tried drawing young mithrun but ended up with an attempt for a kbms lovechild so uh:

MYRTLE (84)

Half-elf/born in Melini

Assigned female at birth/non-binary

Grew in tallman pace until they suddenly stopped growing at 20 years old

Currently working for their uncle (Kerensil Trading Company) in Melini but wants to be an adventurer

Close with their parents as a child but developed a strained relationship with Mithrun and Mithrun's struggles with rying and finding desires (worsened when Kabru died but they're both all good now)

More stuff under the cut:

Myrtle was actually an 'accident' and Mithrun carried them for 4 years (someone shared a HC that elves have a gestation period of 4-5 years so I'm borrowing that lol)

Myrtle spent most of their childhood in the Golden Kingdom and was visited by his uncle (Mithrun's brother) and Milsilril (who they call Auntie but at one point called her 'Grandma'). They are more familiar with Tallman/Golden Kingdom and Utayan culture, but not acquainted with their elven roots (they actually find Western elves intimidating)

Kabru did his very best sharing what he remembers of his hometown; Mithrun had assimilated into the Golden Kingdom way of life at this point and found some (most) of his elven noble ways too cumbersome

Myrtle was a kind child who grew up doted and loved by his parents and relatives. And they love their family with the same ferocity. But growing up, Myrtle was quickly made aware that his father, Mithrun, was 'not normal' - in most days, he was okay; in others, he struggled to get out of bed. In rare days, Mithrun was completely catatonic, and seeing Mithrun unresponsive, staring at the distance, scared Myrtle so much that he became somewhat of a troublemaker child, so that Mithrun always has to act and respond and not have anytime to be lost in his thoughts.

At some point, Myrtle 'disliked' Mithrun for the way that he is, not understanding his situation at all. Myrtle thinks that Mithrun does not love them enough to be better, feels ashamed that they cannot do anything to help Mithrun be better. But Myrtle's feelings on Mithrun comes from a place of love and ignorance - love because they do genuinely love their Father; and ignorance because they were never told why Mithrun was like that (Myrtle heard of what the dungeons were, but Kabru nor Mithrun never bothered to tell of the demon, Mithrun being the dungeon lord, or the full extent of the destruction of Utaya)

Once Myrtle became aware of their parent's pasts, they understood them a lot better.

Also thinking that a point of friction that Myrtle had with his parents was their dream of becoming an adventurer and fighting monsters (which were still rampant, though weaker) and Kabru insisting that they choose any other dream but that. Myrtle in their teenage years found Kabru too strict, too protective, not that Mithrun wasn't. But Mithrun at least was willing to teach them how to fight; Kabru made it clear Myrtle was not allowed near even a walking mushroom. Learning that Kabru was from Utaya, and what exactly happened in Utaya, made Myrtle understand why.

Eventually though Kabru concedes, knowing that Myrtle is much more capable, and surrounded by their own friends and comrades who will support them. I think in the last years of his life, Kabru made sure to prepare everything that will help Myrtle in his adventuring journey if they chose to embark once he is gone - such as speaking with guilds all over the content, ensuring a diplomatic immunity for Myrtle when they're in ally countries, writing an annotated adventure guide just for them, etc.

They work as a Vice-Manager of the Kerensil Trading Company (Mithrun's brother's merchant empire), but that's just a gloried name for the position of intern. Mithrun technically manages the Kerensil Trading Company branch in Melini, and is being pestered by Mithrun's brother to take over the main branch so that Mithrun will move back to the West. Mithrun is unmoved so Mithrun's brother has plans to declare Myrtle as 'heir' of the Kerensil merchant empire, all for the purpose of having his brother and niece move to the West (Mithrun's brother does not see the point of Mithrun and Myrtle staying at the Golden Kingdom any longer after Kabru's death)

(The beauty mark next to Myrtle's right eye is something that they got from Kabru's mother)

[avionvadion]

Also, something just occurred to me and I started cackling really hard. Like yes, Inuyasha is going to be super protective of his sis-in-law, but I can already recognize the sheer crisis of interest and trouble with processing he'll have when he finds out Irene is PREGNANT. By SESSHOMARU. It's SESSHOMARU'S kid. Irene is going break her lil bro-in-law's brain and he won't have his emotional support Kagome there to help him yet. Poor Sango's probably gonna be caught in the middle of this. 😂

Miroku is going to be Inuyasha’s therapist throughout the whole thing, but at the same time be the WORST person to ever talk to about that subject because he’ll go way into detail and start wondering about Sesshomaru/Irene’s steamy night in the forest. Inuyasha is going to be in such strong denial, and it’s even funnier because HE’S THE ONE WHO FIGURES IT OUT FIRST.

Straight up, a couple weeks to a month after the festival, Irene is gonna be helping Sango and Miroku with Kin’Gyo and Inuyasha is gonna walk up to chat with them, stop, freeze, grow horrified, and just stare at Irene before pointing and going, very very loudly, “No. No, no, no, no, no!!!! WHAT DID YOU DO!?”

“What?”

“You did NOT sleep with Sesshomaru!”

“…HAH!? Don’t just freaking scream that!!!!”

“NO. TELL ME YOU DIDN’T. IRENE. TELL ME YOU DIDN’T SLEEP WITH SESSHOMARU RIGHT NOW.”

Irene, starting to panic: “…Oh gods. Inuyasha. Inuyasha, what’s going on? WHAT DO YOU KNOW!?”

Inuyasha, losing his mind, utterly horrified: “WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN!??? HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!?”

Irene: “DOES IT MATTER!? HOW DO YOU KNOW!???”

Inuyasha: “SO YOU DID SLEEP WITH HIM!??? UGH! EUGH! EWWW! WHY!? WHY HIM!?”

Irene: “ANSWER THE QUESTION!!!”

Inuyasha is unresponsive. He’s just crouched down with his hands on his head, muttering to himself in complete horror and disbelief that Sesshomaru was capable of doing such a thing and that he did it to his friend and that said friend is pregnant.

There are things in this world Inuyasha did not want or need to know. This is one of them. But it’s staring him in the face- hitting his nose- and oh GODS he’s going to have to stab Sesshomaru now but also oh GODS this isn’t actually happening right? This is just a fever dream, right? Sesshomaru doesn’t actually fuck, right? Inuyasha isn’t about to be an uncle, r i g h t?

Miroku and Sango are just like: 😳🫢

Sango looks at Irene screeching in panic at Inuyasha to answer her and explain, before turning to face Miroku: “I’ve always wondered when Irene and Sesshomaru would get together.”

Miroku: “I’m honestly surprised Sesshomaru didn’t act sooner.”

Sango: “Ha! I always thought Irene would make the first move.”

Miroku: “Ah, my lovely wife, Irene may have fallen first, but Sesshomaru fell much harder.”

Sango: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Miroku gestures to Irene throttling Inuyasha, shaking him by the collar. The half-demon is screeching for her to let him go because of how horrifying her scent is, but isn’t shoving her away. “This. This is what it means.”

Sango, realization dawning: “…Oh my gods she’s pregnant.”

Inuyasha, on the verge of tears: “SESSHOMARU ISN’T ALLOWED TO MAKE ME AN UNCLE THAT’S NOT HOW THIS WORKS!!!”

Irene: 🫨🤯😱

Okay but like on a more serious note I have been thinking about when Sesshomaru sneaks Irene away into the forest, he also kinda marries her there. Like nothing really fancy, but he takes out a white shiromuku hood (like the one she wore on her way to meet Ryuno) from inside his haori and drapes it over her head and shoulders before leaning down to kiss her.

Just something very simple, subtle, and sweet, and sort of like eloping, I guess- but also only Sesshomaru is aware they’re married, lol, until he has to go get Irene and baby Sora from Koga’s (courtesy of Sango and Kirara) because she panicked and ran away, in which he probably says something later about how he had to “find his wife that ran away”.

Like there’s no way Sess would have a proper wedding, but like I could totally see him doing something really simple and sweet with just the two of them in the forest deep (Hehe) that pretty much results with them being married.

[teriwrites]

The Insurgence: Chp. 6-8

My Live Reactions to Reading Through My 2016 Novel

One day, my chapter lengths will stabilize a little more. But today is not that day.

Miles and Lucile are off!

"Dollie and I have been arguing because she doesn't believe that I have much trust in her anymore." "That's nonsense!" Lucile argued, finally able to look over at Miles fully. Miles shrugged. "Not entirely. In fact, that's rather accurate." (this man is Bitter lol)

See, Lucile asks what's made him lose trust in their leader, and he just... doesn't answer. There are so few actual conversations taking place in this story

There's no right to roam in Atlona, apparently, trespass and a farmer Will kill you

Once again, a reminder that Lucile has absolutely no diplomatic training, and yet they're trusting her to go over to Eulova (a land which seemingly has distinct etiquette depending on social class, and she's part of the middle class) and work alongside their upper class supporters

Miles may be kind of a dick, but at least he's comforting Lucile on her insecurities

Another not-horrendous relation between our cast: Miles actually trusts and gets along with Ross!

Miles getting along the best with all of the Insurgence's members is Wild, considering how much of a brooding asshole he seems to be half the time lol

AHA! I BROKE 3RD PERSON OBJECTIVE: '[Miles] became suddenly unresponsive, choosing instead to focus his attention onto his meal. Lucile, recognizing the closed-off look Miles had developed, made no attempt to draw him into further conversation.'

Honestly surprised I haven't caught more instances of breaking it up yet. Granted, the narrator will apply their own thoughts to situations, but they don't typically actually step inside the character's heads

'The border between Atlona and Eulova was, in most places, divided by a large stone wall. Neither nation wanted the other to be able to enter, so both sides of the wall were often guarded carefully. There were in some regions, however, areas where no wall had been built, or else had been torn down through natural disasters.' oh, it's fine that they have a border wall, Both sides want it there

I'm becoming genuinely curious about the war. Who started it? Why do they want it? What's the end goal here?

Atlona is taking some of their forces and moving them along the border, away from the brunt of the fighting

Miles trailing off and Lucile forcing him to finish his thought, and I love her for that. We desperately need some more dialogue that goes somewhere

"If they attempted to cross through the Osennas Mountains, they may have an easier time of crossing the border. But sending a troop of that size through the Osennas Mountains? We could barely do it, and there are two of us." "If it would help the King gather an advantage over Eulova, do you really suppose that they'll think twice about losing some of their men?" Lucile asked bitterly. (classic evil king move)

Lucile calling out Miles for stereotyping her (by assuming she knows all about Eulova and its landscape, whereas she spent her whole life in one city and didn't receive a very intensive education) is great, but also, one of you needs to figure some shit out real quick if neither of you knows where tf you're going

Oh well, at least we got y'all across the border into friendly territory

'Lucile and Miles, who were both dragged their feet as they walked along a dirt path,' one thing about me, I'm gonna be consistently fucking up grammar and spelling during November. And that's my right!

Miles Shocked by seeing one town with infrastructure not completely falling apart, as though he hasn't traversed both nations thoroughly

Innkeeper refuses to house them due to Miles being Atlonian because of course he does

They literally are forced to spend the night sleeping in an alleyway

Ofc those on the streets are more aggressive when waif Lucile is keeping watch than when bulked-up chad Miles was

It's all good, though, they were just stopping in this town, their business is elsewhere

A town farther away from the border is a little less antagonistic, at least

While I appreciate Miles offering Lucile support, if I have to hear him tell her that her mission is going to be fine one more time, I'm going to reach through the screen and strangle him

Lucile's talk of her father being a trader, and him occasionally taking her on his travels is giving a similar dynamic that I would write about in a later WIP

Surprising absolutely no one, Lucile wasn't able to sleep the night before her first meeting

Contact can only meet in the afternoons, so it's once again Marketplace Time!

Mystery Contact is an 'Allen Sambourne', which is breaking my brain because I'm on Season 2 of The West Wing, where one of the main characters is a 'Sam Seaborn', and Sambourne sounds like a weird ship name with himself

Mr. Sambourne, introducing the fact that you're unmarried as like one of the first things you say to this beautiful young woman is Bold

Also kinda a Sam Seaborn move

'[Lucile's] hands began to shake, and so she clasped them behind her back. Miles, who glanced at the whitened knuckles on her hands, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.' i honestly cannot remember what their dynamic was meant to be, in terms of romantic/platonic/familial, and this story is not doing anything to elaborate on it

It's wild that they ever sent Miles on diplomatic missions

They're both doing fine, there's no questioning Mr. Sambourne's loyalty at this point, but Miles is mixing up Atlonian and Eulovan customs lol

"My own first meeting was less successful," Miles told her. "The man I was working alongside had to take over from the start, as I nearly offended a woman by commenting on the number of cats that she allowed to roam through her garden." how does this man have friends

Wait a second...

I just finished Chapter 6, Chapter 7, and Chapter 8.

Next up?

Chapter... 7??

Just double checked, and it does, in fact, lead into a second Chapter 8

I would consider delving into both chapter 7s and 8s, but this is long enough for one post, I think

Ending Thoughts:

I think of all the dynamics we've seen so far, Miles and Lucile's is my favorite. I don't know exactly what this dynamic is, but they definitely seem close and like they largely get along, even if bickering occasionally breaks out. Miles is very protective, Lucile is trying so hard to be useful, and despite at their core having differing views on the Insurgence at large, they work well together. Going forwards, I would love to know more about the war between Atlona and Eulova, and I would love even more to get a little bit of a glimpse at the secrets that these five operatives are holding. Or just more of Lionel, we haven't seen him since Chapter 1!

[egg-emperor]

Rather, I feel that Sage will enjoy respecting Metal Sonic and supporting him It can be called the evil girl Tails.

I like the idea of a competitive dynamic between Eggman's creations with the ways he can exploit it to get what he wants, like he does everything else in life. That's not to say Metal and Sage would like try to kill each other over him or anything just for feeling a bit of jealousy and fighting to outdo each other to impress him, though the image of Eggman just getting popcorn and watching them fight over him is funny lol

The way they Eggman family creations could interact in canon compliant ways is interesting to me. I like how Metal just looked so annoyed and done when around Orbot and Cubot in Rise of the Wisps. He didn't react fondly to them viewing him as their brother or their attempted friendliness towards him. Despite not being able to speak, the look on his face says it all XD

While I'm at it I also wanted to include this for the wonderful sweet way Eggman talks to his kids as Orbot quotes. Such a good dad 💜

But also for Metal looking at them like "bitch that's YOU guys that need to worry about that, not me -_-"

Metal doesn't want anything to do with them and doesn't react to the dynamic of seeing them like family, he's just like "whatever I don't have time for this" and focuses on the job that he's created to do.

Sage could be into the family roles and titles like Orbot and Cubot were here as she's displayed interest, while Metal would just be as unresponsive and emotionless towards it and set on completing his goal as always like this. And I think she'd get along with Metal, they can do evil and killing and violence together to make their dad proud.

Sage could be nice and supportive towards Metal but still playfully competitive for the reward of Eggman's praise and approval, while I think Metal would be constantly hyper serious and set on proving himself as worthy and valuable as Eggman prized him as before she came along. He doesn't want anyone else to take his place as his father's greatest creation!

[spencersawkward]

top shelf//MGG - part 1

summary: broke and having a bad day, Reader runs into Matthew outside a café. after a couple encounters, his financial support and friendship become something more.

word count: 3k

content warnings: swearing but nothing else!

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

A/N: hi! welcome to my new series. i don’t think this will be super long in terms of parts, but i’ll try to update as frequently as possible for you all. this chapter is pretty expositional, so i’m sorry in advance lol. also i know i made it short but lmk if you want them to be longer. also shoutout my sweet sweet angels @reidsconverse and @voidsfilm bc i would literally cry without both of you. also THANK YOU to @dr-spencerr-reidd for this concept bc i probably wouldn't have written it without your ask!! sending hugs :)

you throw your phone down on the passenger seat with a frustrated groan. after everything that's happened today, you're now stuck on a congested street with your car barely inside the parking spot alongside the sidewalk.

your screen sits there beside you, blank and unresponsive, and you know you're going to have to go inside the coffee shop to ask to use their phone and call Triple A. of course it's not working because nothing is working today. you might as well just sit in your car and cry.

but you can't, because you have a huge project for work that you need to get done by next week, and you've already procrastinated enough. a red glow from the headlights of other cars on the street shine through your windows like melted wax, distorted by the rain. it's been pouring all day.

bracing yourself for the onslaught, you grab the old umbrella from the foot well of the passenger seat and open the door of your car. the torrents hit your body like a wall of ice, soaking you as you try to get to the safety of the café. the umbrella helps a little, but then you get to the overhang and have to actually close it before you head inside.

your fingertips slip around the metal, trying to shove the thing closed while water drips off the bridge of your nose. it's frustrating. your footsteps are still determined as they move towards the entrance, but you're distracted by the stubborn nature of the object, so you don't see the man walking out.

it's not even a bodily collision, really. it's so much worse: the sopping material of the umbrella pokes him in the stomach, knocking the hot cup of coffee all over his sweater.

your eyes widen.

"oh my fucking god, I'm so sorry--" you stutter over your words, completely at a loss. his face is twisted up in an expression of concealed pain. it can't feel good to have hot coffee seeping through your clothes after being prodded by a piece of metal. you move your wet hair out of your face in order to look at him full-on.

"it's fine, really." he gives you what's supposed to be a friendly smile, but looks more like a grimace. your stomach twists; he's hot. like, if you saw him at the bar you would stare at him all night kind of hot.

"no, it's not," your face heats up, despite the cold, damp air. "let me buy you another coffee."

"I--" he glances down at his sweater, which is knitted with cute foxes on the front, then back at you. he pauses a moment and you have to bite down on your tongue to keep from collapsing. he's considerably older than you, but he doesn't dress or act that way. maybe late thirties, if you had to guess. "sure. thanks."

a flowering relief in your chest, partly because he doesn't seem angry and partly because you'd like to look at his face just a bit longer. your eyes stay on his until someone walks through the door of the café and reminds you of where you are.

without a word, you brush past and go into the building, him trailing behind.

Matthew watches as you walk ahead, your clothes spattered with rainwater and your hair somewhat messed up, too. he smiles to himself at the way you almost bump into the corner of a table, nervousness evident in nearly every movement.

you head to the counter, setting your hands on the granite while the barista checks out your unkempt appearance.

"hi," you smile at her before realizing you have no idea what this guy wants. you turn around and see him standing slightly behind you, suppressing a smile. he can tell how flustered you are, and now you look like a fool. "what coffee do you drink?"

"can I have a medium Americano, please?" he asks the barista with a friendly smile. he's got straight teeth, dimples... holy shit. you wish he had been unappealing so that this whole situation would be less humiliating.

you pay for his drink before getting out of the way, both of you slowly walking to the pickup counter.

"again, I'm really sorry. that stupid umbrella." you shake the thing at your side, raindrops falling to the floor. you run a hand through your wet hair.

"it's okay. I appreciate you getting me another cup." he flashes that smile again and you remember that his sweater is all stained. before you can think to do anything else, you pluck a handful of napkins from the self-serve station and start to dab at the material.

he looks down at you for a second, surprised by the way you grab his clothes. Matthew feels your hand pressing into his stomach innocently, and he feels himself blush a little. it's only when you pull away that he's able to regain his head.

"it's still bad," you throw away the napkins and re-evaluate the garment. "jesus christ, it's a nice sweater, too."

"hey, it's totally fine. I can just wash it out." he lets out a slight chuckle, and the sound makes your heart flutter. he's got a dad laugh. deep in his chest.

"baking soda and water." you say abruptly. he frowns.

"what?"

"to get the stain out? I use baking soda and water for coffee stains and it usually works." you explain gently, your eyes meeting again. his irises are a brownish hazel color, warm. the laugh lines by them are charming.

"oh," he grins. "do you get coffee stains often?"

you twist your mouth to the side and glance at the windows of the coffee shop. he's teasing you and you'd be remiss if you said you don't want to play along. "more than I'd like to admit."

you can feel him looking at you with that stupidly brilliant smile and it's really setting you off-kilter. someone shouldn't be that attractive; it's not fair. and yet you want desperately to stare, if purely for the sake of aesthetic enjoyment.

"I'm Matthew." he extends his hand, which is decorated with a series of rings. you realize that you don't even know his name.

"Y/N." you shake. his fingers are softer than you expected.

"nice to meet you, Y/N."

"and under such fortuitous circumstances." the corners of your mouth turn up as you relax a little.

he laughs at your words, the delightful ring of it interrupted by a new Americano showing up on the counter. he glances at the to-go cup, then at you, then goes to get his drink. you wish you knew what he was thinking, but he's not displaying anything past friendliness.

"well, um." something like disappointment settles in your stomach as you recognize this will be the last of your interaction. there's no reason for him to stick around, and you need to get back home to work, anyway.

"I'll let you get back to your day." Matthew doesn't seem nervous, just unsure as he grips the coffee in his hand. you open and close your mouth like something impressive enough to keep him here will come out. you know it won't.

and then you remember the state of affairs, the existence of your useless car and the useless phone in the front seat, how you're going to have to call Triple A and then your roommate to come get you.

Matthew realizes that you aren't going to say anything and he gives you one last smile and an awkward wave before turning to go. you watch in silence as he crosses the room to the door. two more seconds until he's out of your life forever. so of course you choose this exact moment to speak.

"wait."

his head jerks suddenly to look at you. this is embarrassing, but you have nothing to lose.

"can I... borrow your phone?"

Matthew tilts his head to the side slightly, frowning as though deeply confused. and you suppose it is a strange thing to ask, especially given that you're a younger person and most people your age carry their phones everywhere. "sure." he walks back over to you, pulling his cell out of his pocket.

"I just--" you fumble with the device while you decide how to phrase it without sounding like a pathetic mess. "my car keeps breaking down and my phone battery is, like, totally fucked, so it just turns off and on constantly and it’s still in my car but it’s raining and I just wanna see if it’s back on so I can call my roommate." you immediately cringe at yourself. the rambling isn’t cute.

he’s not too bothered by your panicking, though, his mouth only forming an O shape. "it’s no problem."

you dial your number, fingers trembling while he waits. he's turned his eyes to the rest of the coffee shop, but it still makes you nervous that he's standing right there. you put the cell to your ear and pray that it rings out.

you’re greeted by the sound of your own voice telling you to leave a message. great. with a frustrated sigh, you hang up and Matthew gives you an inquisitive expression.

“it’s still off,” you explain. “I’m gonna call my roommate.”

he nods and shoves his hands into his pockets while you punch in the other number. for a split second, you peek his way and admire his side profile. he really is something to behold; a model, maybe.

"hello?" good thing Cecilia has no problem answering unknown numbers. you bite your lip.

"hey, it's me."

"Y/N? whose phone are you using?"

"uh, someone I just met--" you frown as you try to find a way to describe him without something as insulting as a random guy. "anyway, my car broke down so I was wondering if you could pick me up."

there's a pause on the other end of the line, like the movement of sheets and the slightly disappointed groan of another person. she probably has her boyfriend over again. "sure, of course. where are you?"

you give her the address and hang up before dialing the car repair company. Matthew gestures to a table off to the side so that you two don't need to stand, and then you sit down across from him. you're so distracted by the person on the other end of the line that you don't even think about it.

Matthew twists his rings on his fingers. he's fidgety and it's sort of cute. you try not to stare at his hands, at the black spot of ink on the outside of his pinky. either he writes a lot or he's an artist. you have to focus on the table in order to keep from blushing.

finally, you finish up with the phone and hand it back to him. "you're a life saver."

"do you want me to wait with you until your friend gets here?" he gestures out the window. your immediate reaction is to say yes. it'll be awkward to sit here alone without your phone, without coffee. but you don't want to keep him any longer than you already have.

"it's okay, I'm sure you have places to be." you smile accommodatingly. he chooses his next words carefully, it seems.

"I don't, really. but I'll leave you alone if that's what you want, too." the way he speaks, offering his company without trying to impose... something about it makes your heart melt a bit. you appreciate his thoughtfulness. it makes you want to know more.

"okay," you nod as you make your decision. "if you wanna stay. it shouldn't be too long."

"great," he settles back into his chair, the light from the café lights above you reflecting off the lenses of his glasses. "why does your car keep breaking down?"

you exhale sharply at the thought. "that's a really good question, because I don't know the answer. it's super old and I'm too broke to afford a new one."

he nods.

Matthew's mind turns to different avenues at this knowledge. he knows you're young and that usually means that there isn't a lot of spare income. and he doesn't know if you have a job. but what he does know is that you've got an energy about you-- a sweet, well-intentioned manner that draws him in. every once in a while throughout the conversation, you throw out certain phrases that hint at a quick-witted intelligence.

you're funny, but not boldly so. and when you two get on the topic of how you ended up rain-soaked, shoving your way into a Los Angeles café, you tell him about your day.

"--and I have this shitty job right now working for one of my old professor's friends, so it's not like I can afford to constantly repair the damages. all my money is going towards my savings so I can pay for grad school, anyway." you sigh. he listens intently to your words, and he never shies away from eye contact. every time he nods along, you practically feel your heart leap.

"what do you do?" he asks.

"I write for a wellness magazine, but I'm sort of a fraud." you joke.

he laughs. "why's that?"

"I don't know, a lot of it is about different yoga methods and meditation, stuff like that-- but I don't do any of that in my daily life." you admit. it should be embarrassing, but you don't feel ashamed of the fact. he seems to find it funny.

"working your way toward a different kind of job, then?"

"I'm hoping for a more editorial role, honestly, but..." you lift your eyes to his. they're bright, he notices; full of a deep-rooted hope. "gotta start somewhere, right?"

"very true." Matthew wants to tell you just how much he understands, about the roles as an actor he's taken and the hours he spent making films in college, just hoping that one day he'd be able to make things on his own, but he doesn't want to scare you away or sound like he's bragging. it's not your fault you don't know who he is.

"sorry," you speak through a silence he doesn't realize he's left between you two. "I've talked your ear off and you don't even really know me. what do you do?"

"oh--" Matthew actually blushes this time. you see the pink creeping up his neck. "I'm an actor."

in the same way they did when you ran into him, your eyes widen. "an actor?"

"yeah," he smiles at the expression on your face. "you know that show, Criminal Minds?"

the name is familiar, but you've never seen an episode. "yeah, of course."

"I'm in that."

you don't know a lot about the program, but you've heard it talked about and you know that it's a popular show. so this guy is an actual actor, not just some LA wannabe. that makes him about five times more intimidating. you feel even more idiotic for not seeing it before.

"oh, shit," the words tumble out. Matthew grins at the bluntness of your reaction, and you scramble to recover. "sorry I didn't know who you are."

"no worries!" he laughs it off. "it's not a big deal."

"do you like it?" you ask. "being famous, I mean."

he shifts in his seat for a second as he makes a face like he doesn't know how to answer. you wonder if there's something deeper to him that you just haven't seen, yet. secret feelings about the subject. "I'm really not very famous, but I love the work."

genuinely humble. you can see it in his face, the sparkle in his eyes. and maybe he's just charming and you're just a girl blinded by his attractiveness, but your gut tells you that he's being real.

this time, you're the one who falls silent. admittedly, you get a little in your head sometimes. and it makes sense, now, the smoothness of his behavior and the sheer beauty of his face. this is a show business city-- of course he's famous.

Matthew's phone rings and he jumps, as if jolted from a dream. your attention moves immediately to the screen and you recognize Cecilia's number. he pushes the device over to you.

"hello?" your voice sounds far away.

"hey, I'm here. where are you?" she says.

"I'm just inside the café."

"oh, okay, I'll park and come in--" you hear the click of a seatbelt and start to panic. she can't see you in here with him.

"no!" you say too loudly. Matthew's head jerks up to frown at you.

"why not?" Cecilia asks, confused.

"no reason," god, you're a bad liar. "I'll come out and we can wait for the Triple A person in your car." you and Matthew make eye contact again. he gives you an understanding smile. your stomach flips.

"sounds good." she hangs up and you grab your umbrella. time to go.

"thanks for letting me use your phone." you stand, not really wanting to say goodbye but also lacking a reason to stay. he remains in his spot, seemingly now settled into this little corner of the café. it sort of suits him, this place. all cozy and slightly strange.

“happy to help.” you notice the tip of his tongue dart out over his bottom lip as if deliberating whether or not to say anything further. but he doesn’t and you feel awkward just standing there by the table.

“I’ll, uh…” you could ask for his number. but that would be weird, right? he doesn’t really seem to have an interest, anyway. “I’ll see you around, then.”

“yeah. it was nice to meet you, Y/N.” he gives one more of those killer smiles and you turn around, almost bumping into a display of coffee beans before correcting yourself and heading back outside.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed!): @la-vie-en-amour1 @reidsconverse @voidsfilm

[concert-bflat]

Deltarune Chapter 2 Spoilers

Okay so people probably already know about everything that went down in SnowGrave route and that whole deal with.... Berdly. About how Noelle supposedly kills him, and how it’s highly speculated that that kills him in the real world as well because of how he seems unresponsive after waking up. 

But I want to give just a spark of hope that he’s not actually dead yet (mostly for myself lmfao), and someone may have mentioned this already but oh well- 

Basically, as far as I’ve seen, the game doesn’t announce your victory after freezing Berdly. It doesn’t say “You won!”, doesn’t give you any money, doesn’t tell you Noelle got stronger, anything. 

She just says she wants to go home, walks away, and the battle ends right there.

So maybe. Just maybe he’s only frozen in place and that’s it or something? I saw from another tumblr post that Berdly could just be frozen in place in the Real World, unable to move, or he’s simply comatose, and I feel like this small detail could also support that. 

He’s not exactly dead, just... stuck, in a way. 

Then again, the info for SnowGrave does read “Fatal”, and when other enemies are frozen in place they’re basically dead and the victory text does appear for them but.... Maybe Noelle did something? Idk, I’m just trying to be hopeful, really hhhhhhh

(Unless i’m dumb and just completely missed seeing the victory text, but I’m like 99% sure it’s not there, correct me if I’m wrong lol, but if I’m not wrong I’d also love to hear your thoughts on all this, thanks for reading)

[elriel-oblivion]

WHO'S READY FOR SOME HARDCORE NSFW 🔥😈

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

--

Just kidding! 😅

Lol, sorrynotsorry for that fake intro haha, but here's part four for real 😅 Thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented on/reblogged the last part, I really do appreciate all your support 😊🥰🥰

Shoutout to @julesherondalex again for finding one of my fave paragraphs ☺️☺️ I think I only have one fave line this time 😅 And thanks to all who comment their own faves!! I really like seeing what you like in each piece - and it def helps me gauge what kinda writing/literary techniques work and engage people the most 😊😊

I hope nobody's disappointed by this part lol, I really enjoyed writing it in tandem with the previous one 😅

Word count: 4.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed

I've also finally posted all four parts to AO3 if anyone prefers to read there 😊

Ashes from the Deep

Part IV

--

The water falling from the jug to Azriel’s head was the only sound in the bathroom. His hair absorbed the water, darkening to a midnight gleam. A thin breeze entered the room, and now without a blanket, Elain's exposed arms prickled with goosebumps.

Elain plunged a hand into his hair, breaking the mud between her fingertips. A quiet breath passed through his mouth and the corners of her lips rose.

She rubbed his scalp, coaxing as much dirt to the surface as she could before guiding another jug of water through his hair. Some of the mud drained away, some clods of sediment sticking to the basin. She poured over a final jug and stained water trickled into the drain. The warmth of the water tickled through her skin, replacing the cold from outside.

‘Is that nice?’ she asked, brushing the water through his hair with both hands.

His body seemed to relax, one foot sliding forward a little. ‘It is,’ he said thickly. He cleared his throat.

Her fingers continued to gently work at his head, and when sure his hair was completely wet, she ran the bar of soap under the tap. Soft lavender entered her nose and she inhaled deeply. That calm scent loosened her own muscles; this could be as much a session of serenity for her as she hoped it'd be for Azriel.

So long as she held taut the chain on her heart.

Soap foaming, she immersed her hands back into his thick hair, forming a lather. The lavender smell intensified, a wave of tranquility sweeping over her. She blinked slowly, as though her mind were wading through water.

Another sigh from him drew her attention back to his head. She needed to focus on this task; for Azriel, she could stay awake a little longer, especially since she’d already started.

Her fingertips massaged his skull, pressing a little deeper at the base where knots had a tendency to form. Elain moved her own neck, a sharp stab sparking at the top of her spine.

She hadn’t mentioned it to anybody yet – didn’t even know if she would – but her visions had been so feverish the past fortnight. Sleep felt like a luxury as she tossed and turned with psychedelic madness flashing behind her eyes. A turquoise expanse of sparkling ocean, birds shaped from sunset, glittering gowns in every shade, and a too-wide smile with pointed teeth were just a few of the recurring images attacking her every night.

Bathing before bed wasn't helpful. She'd hoped the calming scents of the herbs she'd found would be enough to pacify her mind and lull her to sleep. So far, there was no positive result beyond a loosening of her muscles. At least some of those herbs relieved the intensity of the dark circles round her eyes.

Mellow darkness, however, was a true reprieve, one which she found in her garden in those quiet evening hours, when the sky, having bled through its saturated sunset, was awash with deep muted blues.

As if she’d summoned it, a similar darkness manifested around Azriel’s body, swirling thickest about his head like a black cloud. His shadows rose like vapour, tendrils reaching out and twining about him.

Elain’s hands were hidden among those dark whorls, and they whispered on her skin in cool caresses. She leaned over his head and said, ‘Azriel?’

His eyes flicked open. ‘Huh?’

There was something boyish and confused in the way he blinked and she laughed lightly. ‘Your shadows are sort of hiding your head.’

He turned his head an inch or two. ‘Sorry,’ he said, and those shadows began sweeping over each other, wisps kissing her as Azriel pulled them in.

Elain’s hands were stationary until those shadows were completely reeled in, a faint frown on Azriel’s face. Sorrow lurked there, perhaps that he couldn’t be cocooned in that safe space.

Guilt coated the chain around her heart.

‘Don’t be,’ she murmured. Did he hear the shame in her voice? She hoped not; he should be resting, not worrying about Elain’s feelings. ‘You can close your eyes again.’

He did, but not before she caught a shadow lingering behind his eyes. Were they a glimpse into the shadows he leashed within himself, or were they a reflection of something darker, more sinister, perhaps?

That guilt began to cut into her heart now, icy claws digging. Cold squeezed her chest, a cold unrelated to the outside breeze breathing over her skin. How could she think Azriel was sinister? After the countless times he’d reached out to comfort her, be with her, listen to her – and the sincere light she saw in his eyes. Even the hope Rhysand had spoken of that day of the last battle in the war. The hope whose meaning he'd learnt from Azriel, learnt to experience from Azriel.

No, it was absurd. Yes, Azriel was a warrior and yes, he’d killed people. Possibly worse, she didn’t know. But those shadows she knew with certainty weren’t formed from the darkness of nightmares and malevolence and all things wicked.

They were a darkness of safety and security, of nights spent in a loved one’s arms. When a child sought their parent; when an adult sought their partner. They were the darkness found deep underground, where the earth was pure and things grew. Where life grew.

And just like his shadows, he too was not crafted from unholiness. There was unrelenting virtue glowing in him, burning whatever taint touched his darkness. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d found her at the Hybern camp, when he alone had armed her with his own dagger at that later battle – and then run straight into the thick of it without Truth-Teller.

She didn’t know what she would’ve done if he hadn’t survived while she held his blade.

So when his shadows leaked out again, wrapping him in twining vines and wisps, she said nothing. Simply continued to work in that lovely lavender soap, giving as much care as she could. He deserved it.

She poured jug after jug of warm water over his head, wading her fingers through his locks to wash out the soap. Within a minute or two, the water was running clear. She yawned and dried her hands on a fresh towel.

‘Az, you can lift your head now.’

The guilt relented a little, icy claws releasing. A cold still filled the space left behind. But before the warmth of his presence, his existence, could balm her heart as it often did, she froze. His shadows parted to reveal a tear slipping from his eye. Just a single tear but so abrupt it was jarring on the shadowsinger’s face.

‘Azriel?’

He was unresponsive. His breathing was regular, body relaxed in a state of sleep. Except for that tear. What was he dreaming of?

She raised her hand to his face but let it hover in the air. Would this wake him? Would he even be fine knowing Elain had seen him cry?

She touched the tear anyway, placed a knuckle right beneath it. The tear slipped onto her hand and she wiped off the trace left on his face.

Azriel stirred, voice raw as he said, ‘Mother?’

Mother – was she what, who he dreamt of? There was such a childlike insecurity in his tone that Elain’s heart squeezed. She moved her hand back a little when her own voice sounded wispy. ‘No, it’s Elain.’

His eyes opened, gaze darting around the room. There was a small crease in his brow as he blinked away whatever haze remained from his dreams. The shadows dissipated.

Confusion limned his features in the few seconds it took him to fully awaken. Did he know he cried? That she’d wiped off his tear? No, that wouldn’t be okay. Elain had to distract him, if that were even possible for a spymaster.

Sometimes his title overwhelmed her. Sometimes she found security in it; did he see things he didn’t want to on his travels? Did he have access to a wealth of information he didn’t initially understand, just as Elain didn’t comprehend her visions without further probing?

‘I asked you to lift your head but you’d fallen asleep,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to wake you, but we should dry your hair before you really go to sleep. Especially if you’ll be going outside again. Although I would ask you to consider taking a guest room.’

That frown deepened for a second before he smoothed out his face. ‘Right.’ He sat straight, and Elain set a hand under his head as he stiffly pulled it up. He rotated his neck a bit, water dripping off his sodden hair, sliding down his face.

She placed the towel over his head, patting it across his scalp. Some strands escaped to hang over his forehead, so she pulled them back, ruffling the towel through his hair. All the while, he watched her, but she busied herself with the water that glistened on his neck. Anything to avoid his eyes.

Then he dropped his head – from tiredness or something else, she didn’t know – so she took the opportunity to dry the back more. Drying his hair took more effort than washing, he just had so much hair. The small towel quickly became damp so she continued with the one round his neck, and a short while later, deemed his hair dry enough. Still wet but not sodden, so she combed her fingers through it, smoothing out the tips that stuck out. She left both towels on her bathtub, touching a knuckle to one of the trailing plants sitting on a stool nearby.

She heard the chair scrape across the floor, Azriel rising, so she laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Wait. I want to clean your face, too.’

The idea of having to look at his face for however long it took to clean sent a thrill through her and she woke a little more. The chain on her heart slipped from her control a little and she leashed it back. Her chest tightened as she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the tap. She knelt next to him, honing in on that giant gash on his cheekbone. She touched the cloth to his face.

He winced and her hand stilled. ‘Sorry.’

A small smile graced his face, and he said, ‘Don’t be.’

She recognised the words from earlier and breathed a laugh. ‘That cut does look very bad, though. I think I’ll have to clean it with alcohol too.’

‘Let’s crack open that wine then.’

Something sultry laced his voice, the chain in her chest slipping again. The metal warmed and Elain fiddled with her grip. She let out a shaky laugh. ‘Not tonight, Azriel.’

Goodness. A late night wine session with Azriel. There was heat in her cheeks and she didn’t know how to tone it down. It was even worse with his face so near hers. He’d see it all. Her face warmed further, and it was only the dirt and blood on his that reminded her he was in no position to be drinking the night away. Not with fatigue so clear on his features and in his posture.

And not with Elain. That toed a line she didn't deserve to cross.

So she gave focus only to his skin, wiping the cloth across his face. Once most of the mud and blood was off, she rinsed the cloth, then wiped him down again. He turned his head and as his eyes fixed squarely on her, the chain heated further. She tried to grip it elsewhere, but every link was as hot. It wasn’t uncomfortable – quite pleasant, actually – but she was sure it would be soon enough if she didn’t move now. The cool air sweeping into the bathroom did nothing to help. If he would just stop looking into her –

Elain abruptly stood and on a whim went to close the window. Maybe he'd think she was cold, though she'd regret trapping the air when it was stifling here soon.

She moved to the cupboard by the door, her back to him. She took a deep breath, taking her time to pull out a bottle of alcohol, in pouring a few drops of it onto a clean cloth. The distance between them was refreshing. The chain didn’t cool, not with Azriel still so close in the same room, but at least it didn’t warm any more. Elain took a moment to readjust her grasp and pull it again.

She composed herself and knelt beside him. The alcohol’s scent permeated the air and her own nerves bristled. ‘This’ll hurt.’

His smile was slight. ‘It’s all right.’

She bit the inside of her cheek and touched the cloth to the wound. His jaw clamped like a vice and she lightened her touch, the cloth barely kissing his skin.

This wasn’t the right way. She needed to clean that wound, regardless of what pain it’d inflict. It'd be temporary, the sting. So she pressed the cloth harder, dabbing it across his cheekbone.

His features were stonelike at the contact. Did pain ever become easier to bear? Would the prick of a thorn be less painful in a decade than it was now?

If Azriel’s face was anything to go by, she guessed no. Perhaps some pain couldn’t be learnt; perhaps the body never fully digested pain.

Perhaps she'd never fully recover from the desolation in the Cauldron.

‘Are you all right, Azriel?’ Her voice was so quiet, like she didn’t want to flare the hurt any further.

‘I’m all right. Are you all right, Elain?’

‘I’m fine.’

He wasn’t all right and nor was she, but neither was willing to broach that right now. There was so much to him she didn’t yet know. What was it that shadowed his eyes so often? What darkness clouded his mind before he fell asleep? In due time, she’d learn, but that human impatience, the sense that there was never enough time, threatened to run her tongue.

Time stretched out before her. She’d learn. He was her friend, she just needed to give him time to teach her the workings of his soul. And in return, she would bare hers too.

Neither said a word as she pressed the alcohol into every wound, cleaning his cheekbone and temple, a scratch across his jaw. She stared at the graze there for a few seconds. She’d ask Madja for some calendula oil later; that would speed the healing process.

She sighed as she washed the cloth. Something had loosened the chain, but it wasn’t a sudden unravelling. It’d just been gradual and she hadn’t noticed, one link falling back at a time. Her heart expanded. There was torment in Azriel’s posture, on his face, and it hurt. It hurt that Elain couldn’t do anything for him besides give basic medicines for his body.

But he was more than just a physical form. He had a heart and a soul, both so tight with whatever misery lurked in his past, and she couldn’t do anything about that. For all the light she saw in the world, all the places of brightness, there was ten times as much darkness, ten times as many nooks and crannies where gloom and wretchedness dwelt. What good was the light if it didn’t burn away the shade over everyone’s souls?

She spent more time washing the cloth than necessary.

The chair creaked. ‘You can talk to me, Elain, whenever you need.’

The chain slipped again, Elain’s fingers grappling for those final links. It hurt so much that he was willing to give so much. Her smile was too bright as she turned and said, ‘I know.’

He stood. His gaze was so direct on her that she only held one chainlink now. Just one link remained in her hand, one link between her and the release of a beast she hadn't yet had the courage to face.

The link heated. Her muscles loosened and her hands fumbled with the tap, the cloth falling from limp fingers.

He would realise. He would know what she was thinking and feeling if she didn’t get a grip on herself, on that final chainlink. So she turned her body to face his and cleared her throat. ‘We should go downstairs to the fireplace. It’ll be warmer there.’ For his damp hair, of course.

No matter that whatever cool air remained in the room did nothing to tame her heat.

His hand was cold on her wrist, a shiver tracking her bones, and colder still were the shadows that swept them up and into the living room. Good, there was much more space here. Her feet hit the floor and she bent to place three logs in the hearth.

Moonlight glinted on the steel she struck against the flint but the metal didn’t spark the way she’d seen it do when everybody else lit a fire. She tried again, Azriel silent beside her. This was pitiful. She swiped the steel a couple more times, and a spark finally appeared.

It was too silent here. ‘Those shadows are quite convenient at times, aren’t they?’ she said.

He breathed a laugh. ‘They can be.’

She let the spark catch on the cloth resting on the hearth and threw it onto the logs, a blaze finally blooming. She doubted anybody else took that long to start a fire. Heat bathed her legs.

Elain didn’t know what to make of the lack of judgement she found on his face when she stood. Though, it was common with him, how honestly he looked at her. She shouldn’t be surprised. Save Nuala and Cerridwen, he was perhaps the only one who didn’t view her as a naive fool, a child. None of the others said it, but she saw it in their eyes, that patronising glimmer.

He was leaning against the mantelpiece with a forearm, one leg crossed over the other, the portrait of casual elegance. It wasn't often she got to see him looking so relaxed. Then again, he was tired.

Her eyes met his. ‘Just a few minutes now and we’ll be warm.’

His eyes were soft; he didn’t say anything. Just kept looking at her. Into her.

The air warmed. That was a quick few minutes.

Just the flames. Of course it was the flames. Anything else would be ridiculous.

The wound on his cheekbone was an angry red in the dim light. ‘I think you’ll need a bandage for that wound.’ Some herbs would be prudent too.

‘I’ll be fine without it,’ he said.

She pleaded for interference from something, anything. ‘It’s quite deep.’

‘Not a match for my Illyrian healing.’ The smirk that followed sent a hot spark down her skin. The chain now burned and she lost her grip on it completely, that leash uncoiling and slipping down, down, down into the abyss of her core. Her heart swelled like a dragon inhaling a mighty breath.

She needed a distraction from his achingly stunning face. The wings behind him were not a reprieve at all. Especially not after what she'd overheard about them. Certain people tended to forget she was in the room and had heightened hearing when they talked about the sensitivities of the Illyrian wings.

Her face heated and her heart throbbed against her chest. How improper these thoughts were. The air was stifling now. Perhaps they should've stayed in the bathroom. Even the weak chill of night air would be better than this. She wished she could have shadows to cool her down like Azriel did. Or to hide in. She'd seen him do that plenty of times.

His wings rustled and he straightened, coming off the mantelpiece. His eyes were glazed, somehow even more stunning than they were outside earlier. The fire highlighted the grey brown storm swirling in his gaze while streaks of emerald glistened like the veins on leaves in the height of summer.

It felt like the height of summer too in this heat.

He frowned. She cleared her throat of the pocket of air lodged there.

'Oh.' A bead of sweat glinted on his temple, right above the gash there. The sting that would ensue was an unnecessary pain, so she reached up to wipe it away.

As her finger touched his skin, above the crackle of the flames, a loud thudding beat entered her ears. Azriel caught her wrist and a small gasp left her lips.

His eyes smouldered, that thunderstorm churning in the dim light. His heartbeat. It was his heartbeat she heard. It ran and ran, crescendoeing like a drum before the climax of a song.

Was the shadowsinger feeling the same as she? Did his heart yearn to touch hers too?

It was unbearable, the alternative. Unbearable but probable.

Her voice was thick, with longing, with desire, with anguish all entangled when she spoke, 'I can hear your heartbeat.'

He said nothing. If he truly didn't reciprocate -

She almost couldn't continue but pushed out, 'And it's a beautiful sound.'

That song in his heartbeat finally climaxed, a thunder of sound pounding the air.

'You're beautiful, too,' he breathed.

Her own pulse throbbed, heartbeat echoing in her throat. Tears blurred her vision of him. She blinked them away; she wanted to truly see every inch of his wonderful face.

His breathing lightened.

As did hers.

He was a mirror, Azriel. He saw her; he saw what she hid from everyone else, clear as day. It was his eyes that told. His words, too, in that smooth voice, free of condescension.

And now no mouth had ever looked so inviting.

And maybe this was okay. This fondness, this attachment she'd developed for him. It wasn't a sudden spark - childish and unquestioned. This had been building for a while now. Months. Maybe even since the first year she'd met him. And maybe it was improper and she was a lady, but perhaps it went beyond expectation. If her sisters could give themselves wholly to their love, then so could she.

Love. It was exhilarating, liberating to open up that well inside her. To no longer have that chain leashing her heart.

And because she knew he'd not make another move, she whispered, 'Are you going to kiss me?'

The fire hissed as a log tumbled further into the hearth. Shadows smoked behind his eyes. 'Only if you want me to.'

Without a doubt, she wanted this. There was a certainty, a clarity in her bones that sang high and free. It whistled through her marrow and glided into her blood, awakening her soul. She was not a child. She could want this. She could have this.

'Yes.'

A frown marred his face and her heart dropped. His eyes were now a hurricane, darkened like night descended over them. Torment was etched in the line of his brows, in the flicker of his jaw as it ground together.

He was afraid. Of hurting her. Ruining her. She'd seen the way he always glimpsed his hands, glancing away with revulsion in his eyes. He thought he was a disgrace, a savage.

But how could that be? How could this male, this male of honour, loyalty and charm think so little of himself? He was better than any male she could've had the pleasure of knowing.

'I know what you're thinking,' she said, 'and I want you to know I trust you, Azriel. You will do me no harm. You couldn't.'

His eyes shuttered as he lowered them, brows still furrowed. He still held her wrist, so, pulling his arm with her, she reached out and stroked his brow with her thumb. She rubbed back and forth in gentle motions until that crease was gone, and he exhaled slowly.

'I trust you, Azriel. So kiss me.'

The moody veil of night lifted from his eyes, the tempest calming to a glistening haze. His heart still pounded, so wondrously loud as he leaned down, his free hand settling against her cheek. He was unhurried, tentative.

It was agonising. Worse still, he paused with an inch of space between their lips. His night-chilled air and cedar scent blended with the smoke and wood of the fire, seductive as it crept into her skin and twined around her bones like ribbons of mist round pillars.

With shadows flickering over his face, and the light so sultry beside them, his eyes were alluring. She'd never let herself notice that before. 'Kiss me,' she said faintly.

Elain didn't breathe as his lips touched hers.

__

Feedback's welcomed, thanks for reading 😊

@illyrian-lover-flower @julesherondalex @nooriee @mis-lil-red @verifiefangirl @tswaney17 @a-happybird @thewayshedreamed @sleeping-and-books @thefangirlofhp @januarystears @courtofjurdan @ladylochan

[hail-doodles]

Wandavision ep 6 spoilers

Okay, so my brain is honestly fried after this ep so I can’t come up with any big theories lol. But one thing I do find suspicious is the scene with Agnes at Ellis Road.

Although she did seem as if she were in a trance when talking to Vision before he “woke her up,” she was still responding to him. Everyone else near the hex wall seemed to be frozen in time and completely unresponsive (I assume because they’re the farthest away from Wanda), but she, the closest one to the wall, was still able to move/breathe normally/have somewhat of a conversation with vision.

Why?

It could be because she’s still Wanda’s neighbor and thus Wanda is continually influencing Agnes with her powers (since she’s the “supporting cast,” so to speak)—or maybe Agnes tried to escape and drove as far as she could before going under a trance, but idk. Something’s going on with her. She’s still sus to me lol

[mariaiscrafting]

hot takes! as someone with adhd, i am simultaneously frustrated and empathetic with dream. sometimes i think he is a bit reckless and irresponsible with his fanbase, particularly when responding to criticism. on the other hand, as someone who also experiences rejection sensitive dysphoria as a result of adhd, i completely understand the need to defend oneself, and how difficult it can be to take the amount of criticism he receives. it's complicated lol

Hmm yeah... I don’t think I have ADHD (though jury’s still out on the exactness of my mental illness/neurodivergence since I haven’t been officially diagnosed with anything), so I can’t say I 100% understand. But I do understand both having to take responsibility for one’s actions despite a mental illness or disorder, and being unjustly accused of things because of my mental illness/disorder because people don’t have empathy for the fact that my brain works differently... On one hand, I understand that it is difficult to deal with rejection when you have ADHD, and that RSD can manifest rejection as actual emotional pain. But on the other, I believe in learning coping mechanisms and creating a support system that makes it easier to do things that are not detrimental to one’s self, especially when you’re an adult and have the ability and knowledge of yourself to do so. I fucking hate the people demonizing, for example, his extreme, immediate reaction to the first cheating accusations. I have a friend who used to like Dream before the cheating thing, and he compared Dream’s reactions to Trump’s tweets. While I get the frustration from a viewer’s perspective, especially from someone who majors in mathematics, the comments still gave me an ableist edge. Like, to not understand whatsoever that the guy has ADHD, and that immediate, angry responses are characteristic of RSD... :/ 

As someone with (extremely probable) depression, I’ve long since stopped blaming myself for being unresponsive or serious during depressive episodes. But these are symptoms that don’t negatively affect me or anyone else, at least, not on a very significant scale. Yeah, my mother has made digs at me since I was little about being too serious and having RBF and seeming unfriendly to peers and family members, but really, it doesn’t fucking matter. But there are also symptoms of depression that I’ve been faulted for that do truly matter, that negatively affect me and those around me. One of the most obvious ones is the lack of basic caring for one’s self during a depressive episode. As a child, I had little understanding of why I had no energy to even change my clothes, let alone shower, clean my room, wash the dishes, or get some food, but as an adult, I know myself. I know about depression, I’ve read about it and experienced it for around a decade now, and I have the capability to create a network of friends and family members who can help me when necessary. I know the signs when I’m gonna go into a depressive episode. I know what to do to distract myself, who to turn to, and how to motivate myself to keep functioning. And so, despite everything in my body telling me to lie down and rot during an episode, I force myself to seek out the factors that I have set up for myself, that help me find the motivation to, or sometimes actually help me, to shower and change clothes and find food to eat. As an adult, I need to take responsibility for any lack of self-care I engage in during a depressive episode because I have the capability, wherewithall, time, and resources to make sure that I continue functioning as a mentally able person would, even during episodes. I don’t want to be demonized, I want empathy and understanding, but I also don’t want to be babied because I need to be held accountable; mental illness does not erase one’s actions. One’s actions do not live in a vaccum, and they can’t be compared to someone who is mentally able/NT, but they also can’t be completely excused because of mental illness/neurodivergence.

Depression, I’m sure, is not at all the same as ADHD, but the same, underlying concept still stands: I hope that Dream can figure out a support system and coping mechanisms and whatever else he needs to combat RSD. Because acting on RSD, especially in the case of someone whose entire career invites rejection en-masse, is a detriment to one’s livelihood. Dream’s career is currently negatively impacted by many factors, but I’d say that one of the major ones is the criticism of him as being unable to deal with criticism/his many responses to accusations and criticism. I don’t get mad at Dream anymore for responding to criticism rashly or constantly or where it is not necessary, because I understand a lot more about ADHD and RSD now than I did in December, but I do hope he can create the coping mechanisms and support system necessary to help himself, and not be a detriment to his career. 

[xnchxntmxnt]

Hi Spencer!! Ahhh I hope you’ve reached 200 by the time you get this! It’s been so amazing watching you grow and your works have brought lots of comfiness into my life 🥰 thank you so much for creating and writing and making one of the most aesthetic blogs I’ve ever seen (hehe love the constellation aesthetic) sending lots of positive vibes and appreciation your way 💕

For the matchup event (ahh it’s my first time ever doing one and I hope I didn’t put too much 😱) thank you in advance 💖

Name: eggu

Pronouns: she/her

Preferred partner: open to anyone

MBTI: INFJ

Horoscope: Aquarius

Aesthetic: light academia, soft, oversized sweaters, korean street wear, fandom merch, white and pastels, 4:00 am talks about life, stars and clouds

Some things about me:

I took piano, dance and martial arts lessons growing up and I still enjoy playing piano a lot

I enjoy playing video games on my spare time (I’m currently selling my soul to genshin impact)

I really love music of all genres but I’m currently really into kpop and khiphop (my favourite artists are seventeen and stray kids)

I really like naps and sleeping in general and prefer it over eating — I would say I have pretty low energy in general

I like desserts, pastries and dim sum

I recently got into watching art streams, journaling and collecting cute stationery

I’ve pretty much been a huge geek/fangirl all my life and have loved reading and animation since I can remember

I just finished watching jujutsu kaisen and am currently watching fruits basket (lol I enjoy both extreme shounen and fluffy shoujo)

I’m human and have lots of insecurities but I’m learning

Ideal traits in a partner:

Able to appreciate the quiet moments

I’m not a super physical person, but it would be nice to be physically close to someone I trust and that respects my boundaries

Trustworthy — didn’t have a great past relationship 😞

Isn’t afraid to keep up with banter and has witty remarks... someone that can keep me on my toes

Is driven in something they love

willing to learn and grow alongside me

@eggutartu

Thank you so so so much!! 💕💕💕 i worked really hard on the aesthetic so I’m glad you like it and I’m glad you like what I write! If you ever have ideas, don’t be afraid to share!

Anyway, onto the notes & matchup (I was really proud of this one 😁😁😁)

WHEN I TELL YOU I IMMEDIATELY HAD AN IDEA, I I M M E D I A T E L Y HAD AN IDEA. I was so proud of myself when i got this lol cause I saw your entry when I woke up, barely skimmed it, and said…

TSUKISHIMA KEI

✧ 𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑀𝑒𝑡 ✧

Okay okay hear me out

Hot topic (or something similar but I’m American so hot topic)

He was looking to get something for Yamaguchi’s birthday & maybe something for himself because don’t tell me Tsukishima Kei isn’t into anime I know he is

Probably shonen but still

Anyway

You were both reaching for the same thing (yes I’m using THAT trope)

Fortunately for you, there was more than one keychain but still

He was about to get low key defensive like “hey watch it” y’know like

Was in a v short mood

But the second he got the word “hey” out he turned to look at you and just

Froze

And got all embarrassed because look at this beautiful girl he’s standing net to shit he was just cursing you out in his brain

So he’s staring at you with wide eyes and you’re like “oh I’m sorry--you like JJK too? That’s cool”

And he’s stuttering Tsukishima Kei is flustered, everybody

So he’s like “uh yeah kinda I guess I don’t really talk about it a lot cause my friend isn’t into it”

“Well I mean if you ever wanna talk about it we can”

“Really?”

“Yeah, gimme your phone I’ll give you my number. If that’s chill”

“Sure, I guess, yeah”

Akiteru was home that day and hadn’t seen his brother smile this much since he was a kid

Any time he asked though Kei just got all huffy and went to his room

✧ 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 ✧

U two make playlists for each other on a regular basis (Spotify playlists w collaboration turned on are your best friend)

They're always killer and hit a little too hard

When you tell him you have a new favorite song, he listens to it on repeat until he knows all the lyrics and can pick on you for saying the wrong lyrics if you ever do

Also because it reminds him of you

He loves that he can be himself around you

Really he does

Like that’s one of his favorite things

He doesn’t have to hide any of his hobbies or really anything about him really and he appreciates it so much

It took a while to get there with him, but once he trusted you 100%, he realized he was in love with you

Love and trust are the same things to him (or at least similar) so he knew he loved you when he realized he really could be himself with you around and probably told you as such

He’s not one to push your boundaries, but just had to tell you so it was probably a text like

“Look I don’t expect you to say this back if you’re not ready for that yet, but you’re so amazing--I need to be honest. I’ve done nothing but stare at the ceiling for an hour and think and just realized how in love with you I am. I really am. Take that as you will.”

And then just straight up DIDN’T ANSWER UNTIL 2 AM THAT NIGHT LIKE “sorry I was at Yamaguchi's” LIKE BRO JUST DROP A BOMB LIKE THAT DAMN

Needless to say, he WAS at Yamaguchi's and left his phone at home but it was because he was too afraid of what you’d say

He got home at 11

He just procrastinated for three hours until he finally answered you back

And when you told him you loved him too, his heart SOARED he proceeded to call yams and squeal like a seven-year-old girl for a half hour

If ur shorter than him he uses your head as an armrest, no exceptions

He does it if you're taller than him too he just goes up on his toes to do it

Anyway

Can and will pick on you for everything

It’s the way he shows his love alright

Cute stationery? It’s tacky and “why do you have this it’s irritatingly adorable”

“You’re irritatingly adorable”

“I’m not adorable”

“Yes you are Tsukki"

Lets you call him Tsukki until you can call him Kei

You have to have a thick skin with him because sometimes it’s hard to tell when he’s being sarcastic or not

If he ever did make you cry or genuinely upset though, he’d tear himself to pieces about it for hours and be completely unresponsive to his phone if you text him because he thinks you hate him

When he finally texts you back he’ll never admit how upset he is, but he will apologize for making you upset

It’s really hard to do emotions with this dude but you try to manage

If you can figure out how to make him talk about his problems “let’s talk about Akiteru” “no”? Yamaguchi will love you forever

You get the best friend approval anyway but you get an extra gold star if you can get him to open up more

Oh and you totally like to show up at games or practice and everyone including Ukai and Takeda love you for it because he tries a little harder so he doesn’t look bad in front of you

It’s like a switch he goes from like 5% to 70% effort but that’s the best he’s giving until it’s game time then he’ll crank it to 100%

✧ 𝐷𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐼𝑑𝑒𝑎 ✧

Okay okay but but but but but

Anime dates

Like once a week you two sit and watch anime over discord or smth

You don’t usually talk much but it’s nice to be in each others’ presence

Or close to that

When you can get together it’s that much better

You trade off whose house you’re at every other week, and whoever's visiting picks up snacks on the way

You’ll watch tv, make fun of the characters together, roll your eyes at the sappy moments but lean over to kiss Tsukki anyway

It’s overall a very wholesome scene

But there will be times when he is stressed and tired for whatever reason and he’ll fall asleep

Sometimes he’ll be curled into a little ball on his side of the couch

Sometimes he’ll slouch his head against your shoulder with his arm around your waist

Sometimes he’ll pause the show and pull you down against him and just lay with you for a while

Not even watch tv just

Be happy in each others’ presence

He’ll fall asleep from time to time and you take his glasses off for him

He looks so soft when he’s sleeping and not glaring at people

✧ 𝑍𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑐 𝐼𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ✧

Libras, while they may not exactly say it, are romantics. They enjoy little things about romance, however modern, like spontaneous dates and flowers. They initiate clever ideas and Aquariuses are good at adding a different perspective, so prepare for in-depth conversations. On the other hand, Aquariuses tend to be trendsetters, which Libras support wholeheartedly.

✧ 𝐴𝑒𝑠𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑐 ✧

✧ 𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ✧

my boy - Billie Eilish

Hug - SEVENTEEN

King of the Clouds - Panic! At The Disco

She’s In The Rain - The Rose

I Can’t Handle Change - Roar

Runners up: Sugawara Koushi, Akaashi Keiji

[exosmuttytalk]

Guardian

Characters: Do Kyungsoo, unnamed female OC (told from the perspective of DO)

Genre: angst.

Rating: mature.

Warning: this deals with topics darker than my usual. Death, suicide and mental health problems mentioned. Proceed with caution and take care!

Summary: there is no summary because the core happening of the story is what makes it as a whole, so you gonna have to read to find out lol

(excuse weird formating, I'm on mobile)

First thing I noticed the moment after you quietly stepped through the front door were the deepest dark circles I'd ever seen rimming your eyes.

Your eyes had always been beautiful. Big and bright, they usually shone with a mischievous spark of intelligence and expressivity. Many times I looked at you and wondered how it was me who became the actor when you seemed able to tell stories with your eyes. On the rarer occasion, your eyes also warned me of the times you slipped closer to your darker-than-reality inner world, that one you were able to scape from when you were barely older than a teenager, through sheer will, family support and a necessary dose of drugs to balance your neurotransmitters. But the longer we were together, the more fulfilled your professional life became, the better relationships you held with other people, the more you enjoyed your hobbies, the more seldom I got to see those hints of sadness barely concealed behind fake content smiles.

This time was not one of those rare times. This time, when I looked at you, I felt genuine fear for you.

This time, your eyes did not show sadness. They didn't even look tired. They were just...completely indifferent. They glossed over our living room and didn't even acknowledge my presence, although I had occupied my usual spot at the armchair for quite a few hours already. 

Greetings weren't exchanged either. 

I vaguely remembered last night's fight. Even though we used to pride ourselves in the fact that communication was easy for us, daily life, stress fuelled by our jobs and our inability to sometimes see each other as often as we wanted would put a strain on any relationship. But we always managed to solve those issues. They were never such a big deal for us. Or were they? 

As you carelessly dropped your oversized folder on top of the dining table, I remembered about the project you needed to hand in at the end of this week. 

"How did they like the design this time?" My question was aimed towards finding out what may have caused the icy expression in your eyes. You adored your job at the firm you and some colleagues had set up a few years after you finished your architecture studies. You never missed an opportunity to  ramble on and on about what was your life's passion project; even though most of the times I wasn't able to follow every explanation, I was always happy to listen. 

Not this time. You turned on your heels swiftly and walked into the kitchen, followed closely by Jackie, but leaving me behind with my unanswered question. 

Was it bad enough to deserve this silent treatment? 

I could hear you rummaging through the shelves and then I saw you making your way back to the living room, Jackie swiftly walking behind you. You always cradled Jackie for a little while before opening the can of delicious cat food that would go into her plate. You absolutely adored that little rescue cat and the feeling was mutual; a relationship I had never been able to partake in. But this time, you simply dumped the contents of the can into the bowl and gave the animal a absentmindedly pat on the head. You didn't even look at her. 

After that, you lied down across the sofa in the same clothes you'd gone to work in and pulled out your phone and headphones. That made me wonder where my own phone could be. I was always aware of my terrible memory even if there were more pressing issues at hand. Headphones were covering your ears just seconds after and I was left there, silently wondering what the hell was wrong. 

Maybe you'd had a truly awful day at work? Maybe you were overworked and needed to rest? Could you actually be that mad at me? I truly don't remember what I said, but whatever it was, I'm so sorry. 

As I got lost in my thoughts, Jackie had already finished her food and, after grooming herself a bit, she hopped onto the sofa and nestled herself up against your belly. That was the only moment I saw you react. You briefly glanced down from your screen to the cozy creature in your lap. But you didn't smile. You didn't pet her. But I got to see your eyes and there was no indifference in them no more. They were miserable. 

I was so scared, baby. I had never seen you so unresponsive and distressed in all our years together. From experience, I knew better than to try to touch you in some instances, so I went for the second best option. I got up and rushed down the hallway to our room, where I supposed I had left my phone. It was time to call your mother, your best friend, whoever was around you when you first had an outbreak. They would know what to do better than me.

I had barely started looking around when I heard the door bell ring. Then I heard it again, insistent. I stopped on my tracks and listened, expecting you to go get it, as you were closer. By the third time, the visitant had switched to knocking and I guessed you weren't able to hear it due to the headphones, so I turned around and rushed back to the front door. 

I peeked through the peephole and felt a rush of relief when I recognised your best friend. Bless her soul, she may actually have some sort of mental connection with you. 

"It's Sarah!" I shouted in your direction, getting no response back. Just before she knocked for a second time, I reached out for the door knob. The door didn't open. I stared at the door knob in confusion. It was the same piece of silver metal that had been attached to that door since we first got the apartment together years ago. The same familiar and innocuous whatnot I made use of every single day. Maybe it was stuck? 

Once again, I reached for it, although this time I was intently watching my right hand. 

My fingers. 

They went right through the knob. As if it wasn't actually there. As if it wasn't even corporeal. 

The impression made me fall down on my butt, but I didn't have time to process anything, as Sarah gave a final loud bang to the door and shouted. 

"I know you're there. You either open yourself or I'll call the police" 

The threat finally made you stand up and go open the door. From my position down on the floor, I could see how you were easily able to grab onto the doorknob to at last let her in. Being sort of your polar opposite on that regard, Sarah immediately latched on to your neck and you stoically responded by patting her back with one of your hands. As for me, I stared at my own hands in disbelief. 

What the fuck was going on!? Could I be dreaming? I tried pinching myself hard and I felt it hurt, but nothing else happened. I was freaking out and seeing both of you in front of me behave in such a mellow way only increased my alarm. 

Of course, Sarah lead the way to the kitchen, pulling your arm and stepping right beside me as if I wasn't having a straight up meltdown down at the floor. Jackie had trotted behind you to the hall and was now looking straight at me with what seemed to me a full of disdain expression. At least someone recognised my presence. 

"When was the last time you ate?" Sarah's usually loud voice came booming from the kitchen. This question was odd enough to spark my interest, so I stood up and headed that way. 

"Yesterday," you responded in a monotone voice. 

Sarah, who had started stocking up plastic boxes full of already prepared food in the freezer, turned around to look at you with an eyebrow raised. 

"You sure about that?" 

"Yeah. Also, there's no point in that, I'm not even hungry," you answered again before turning around to occupy the spot you'd left at the couch. 

To be fair, she had filled the sad looking fridge with at least a week worth of meals for two. Was the fridge that empty last time I checked? 

"Baby, you can't be doing this to yourself."

"I'm not doing anything, OK?" you suddenly snapped back at her. I had never heard you speak to her in that tone. "I am fine and I will be fine. I just need you all to leave me the fuck alone!"

With that said, you went back to adjusting the headphones over your head and to rummaging through your phone. Sarah stared at you with a dispared look on her face.

"And you know that is definitely not healthy. I am done with this. I'm looking for a therapist and you're coming to an appointment on Monday."

"Do whatever the fuck you want. I am not telling you how to live your life." 

Sarah sighed and nodded in response.

"I can't even imagine what you're going through and how absolutely devastated you must be feeling right now. And I know it's barely been a month, but you can't let yourself slip this way, not with your records." 

A month since what? 

You shrugged her worry off. 

"I'm leaving. I will call you later. If anything, please, at least send me an emoji or something so I know you're okay."

You grunted at her before she kneeled down next to the sofa to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Then, she left the house without even glancing at my direction.

I had witnessed the whole scene from a corner of the room and I had grown in my bewilderment with every spoken word.

As soon as I heard the front door softly closing, I walked up to the sofa and circled it, so I was able to see what you were doing that had caused such disagreement. 

"KSoo <3" read the letters at the top of the easily recognizable screen of the chat service we used on a regular basis. As I approached you even closer, I could hear my own voice coming from your headphones. I remeber sending you that audio barely a week ago, when I asked you to make a quick run to the grocery store before coming back home, as I needed some more ingredients for that night's dinner. 

Your eyes were filled with silent tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Second part: GUARDIAN II

MASTERLIST!?

Other Kyungsoo shizs

Everyday

Stories of my downfall  + Kai

@exosmutxoxo​

[toomuchponytail]

Whumptober #22

I’m not finished, just a little behind. This is a continuation of this prompt, number 42 (Thank you for enlightening me that I had the wrong prompt number, lol I’m a mess) where the hero has been drugged at a club and the antagonist has to help them. I got a little creative with the hallucinations, so be aware that here there be monsters.  

The hero makes it to the alley behind the club before his knees buckle, letting out a small scared sound between a groan and a whimper as he finds his body rapidly filling with cold numbness leaving heavy unresponsive limbs in it’s wake. The hero would have fallen in the gutter with the trash if the antagonist hadn’t been there to catch them, letting out a frustrated hiss of their own as they find themselves suddenly having to support the whole of the hero’s weight. 

“W-wasss hap’nin?” The hero slurs, their cold fingers gripping the antagonist's arm in terror as their body begins to rebel against them, their legs won’t move at all now, they fell like they are full of lead, their fingers are starting to loosen their hold even as they try desperately to tighten them, their head is spinning in time with the swirling colors, they think that they might be sick. 

“It’s okay,” the antagonist soothes, wrapping an arm around them for further support as they limp along, “You’re an idiot for not being able to tell your drink tasted weird, but I’m not going to leave you here.” 

“Mmhhh,” the hero groans, still trying to move on their own, but their thoughts are getting as swirled and distorted as their vision, for a moment they think that they see the wall behind them open up to swallow, the vast empty space makes them shudder and lean closer to the antagonist, squeezing their eyes shut in terror.

“Wait.” The antagonist freezes, noticing the way that the hero is trembling, “Are you hallucinating? Because you should not be doing that.”

“mmmhhmm,” the hero moans in affirmation, this time it take herculean effort to make any sound come out at all, and icy cold fear washes over them as they realize that they are going to be completely mute and helpless in a few moments. They watch as a dark figure takes shape at the end of the alley--something looming and evil with a pale rotten fish-belly face that is melting off of their skull in thick fat colored lumps around a smile that beams with madness. Hero closes their eyes, unable to do anything else as the antagonist pretty much carries them closer to it. The stench of the thing fills their being, like the worst garbage they’d ever smelled, like acrid rotting meat and body odor, hero feels their stomach turn, they whimper in fear but the sound is tiny--it’s the last one they are able to make for a while. 

They go completely limp in the antagonist’s grasp, their head lolling uselessly to the side, still awake, still aware, even as the drugs make the world into a private horror movie that they are completely helpless in, at some point the antagonist holding them up is replaced by their dead father, staring at them unblinkingly with empty sunken eyes--hero would scream if they’d been able to use their voice, but they can’t--they can’t do anything as their body and mind become a silent prison. 

Oblivious to the hero’s drug induced torture the antagonist presses on, their car is parked in the street, they’ll just get hero over to their lab and take a blood sample, they should be able to find something to counteract the drug, the hallucinations did make them nervous--the drug they’d thought it was before didn’t give hallucinations, they were just beginning to worry about the possibility of a drug cocktail when a voice came from behind them. 

“Where do you think you’re going with my little friend?” It was the crime boss--no longer acting even a little bit impaired, the antagonist’s heart jumped when they realized they’d been cornered, the human walls of muscle that had been following their boss around now appeared in the alley, blocking their escape. 

“He’s had a little too much to drink bud,” the antagonist snarled, “Know anything about that?” 

“And you’re the sidekick?” The crime boss cocked one eye brow, ignoring their question. 

The antagonist sputtered, “I most certainly AM not!” they spat, then added in a mocking velvet tone,“But I can kick you wherever you’d like darling, stomach, throat, and sure, side too.” 

“Get hero,” the crime boss commands flippantly to his guys, taking a cigarette out of a gold case in their pocket, “kill the other one.” 

The antagonist didn’t need to be told twice, taking a quick moment to lean hero up against the wall, a spike of concern hitting them when they catch a glimpse of hero’s wide unfocused and terrified eyes, their gasping hitching breaths, one problem at a time, they reminded themselves, turning to face their attackers. 

Of course the antagonist has the advantage, the crime boss had been expecting a hero, and they were not that, decidedly not that, as the first lackey found out when the antagonist’s fist connected with their jaw, the tiny concealed hypodermic needles in their watch presenting themselves just as they were supposed to, lackey #1 was out like a light before they’d even hit the floor. The antagonist twisted the watch face, changing to another minuscule dose of something nasty--this one was going to give the lackey a headache, but that’s what they get for drugging hero. 

The fight was over before it had even really started, before the crime boss had finished his cigarette, he puffed looking nervous as the antagonist strode forward, not even bothering to adjust their watch face, the antagonist took the cigarette right out of their mouth and tossed it into the alley, a scowl on their face. The crime boss shrunk back against the door as they got closer, holding their hands up to protect their face. The antagonist took this opportunity to punch them, just the once, just to lay them out in the street and while they laid there groaning to lean over and remove the ring from their short fat finger. 

“Get out of my city!” The antagonist seethed down at them.

Then there was clapping, the antagonist looked up startled to see sidekick standing next to hero, starting a slow clap with smirk on their face, “Nice to see hero has finally turned over to our side.” 

“Well since you wren’t here I naturally had to improvise” the antagonist taunted.

Sidekick’s eyes lost their teasing light when they looked at the state hero was in, the antagonist joined them after a moment to pocket the crime boss’s ring, “Can you help me with him please?” sidekick asks, more than a little worried at the unhealthy looking sheen that the hero’s skin has taken on, the dull glassy eyes, their pupils blown open as the drug keeps their word distorted and full of fear, “You’re like a pharmacist or something, right?” 

The antagonist ignores them, leaning over hero, they look them over for several minutes, pausing to take the rapid hummingbird pulse, before they turn to sidekick again, their voice was firm, tight with worry, “We need to get them to my lab now.” 

“W-what is it?” Sidekick asked as the tendrils of foreboding curled darkly around their stomach. 

“I don’t know,” the antagonist admitted slowly,  “But I think it’s killing them.” 

[gaycrouton]

Mulder and Scully get turned into vampires and have some AMAZING sex.

I’m not going to lie - Ireally didn’t think I’d be able to do this one and it’s been sitting inmy inbox for like nine months. But I got randomly inspired and, now that it’sbeen gestating as long as an actual human baby, I actually am digging this,lol. 

tw: dubcon

1) 

She was starting towonder how many vampiric cases one had to work on to become a qualified experton the subject. Whatever the quota was, she was certain she was rivaling AnneRice by now. 

“I think this is adangerous one, Scully,” he stated solemnly, not taking his eyes from the road.

“What makes you saythat?” she asked, toeing off her heels and slouching in her seat. 

“They’re sexuallymotivated and the bite mark victimes seem to have lost chunks of theirmemories,” Mulder answered, popping a seed into his mouth.

Scully scanned the pagesin the manilla envelope on her lap. The women and men affected only seemed torecall going out to dinner or partying before waking up naked with a bite markon their neck. No sexual assaults had been reported, in fact from what thereports seemed to reflect, the victims weren’t as concerned as they wereconfused. 

“Some of these caseshave victims waking up together with the same symptoms and markings,” shemused, scanning the page. Turning to him, she furrowed her brow and asked, “Arethere any toxicology reports? Any evidence to show it wasn’t just a drunkenfling?”

“No, nothing like thatyet, though some people admitted to drinking the evening of,” he replied.

She made a sound ofacknowledgement and turned her attention back to the reports. “Scully,” heprompted. She looked up at him and saw apprehension masking his features. “I’dlike it if we stuck together on this one,” he murmured.

He clearly didn’t wantto imply she couldn’t take care of herself, but she could tell he was nervous.“Okay,” she stated softly in agreement. She was surprised by how obvious hisrelief was. “But as I’ve stated in the past, you’re the one who hastrouble with running off,” she teased, lightening the mood. 

Mulder let out a huff oflaughter as he nodded his head. “I promise I won’t this time. I just want tomake sure neither of us end up alone with a potential vampire,” hestated. 

“Been there, done that,”she deadpanned, fuzzy memories of Chaney, Texas coming back to her. 

She saw him look over ather with an unamused expression and she lifted her hands in mock surrender.“Okay, okay. Don’t end up alone with a potential vampire. Got it.”

2)

She didn’t know how sheended up alone with the suspect, but she needed Mulder to stop whatever he wasdoing and get here. Now.

“Sir, take a step back,”Scully stated firmly, her voice quivering despite her resolve. 

“Am I making younervous, Dana?” Vladmir purred in what she was sure was an attempt to comforther. Vladmir, of all the names.

“It’s Agent Scully, andno. You’re making me uncomfortable because you aren’t respecting my personalspace,” she snapped. It was hot. God, when did it get so hot?

Vladmir took a stepcloser to her and she felt the backs of her knees hit the couch that she’d beenpositive was on the other side of the room. He peered down at her with blackeyes she felt lost in. “Why don’t you sit down?” he requested in a voice thatsounded like honey.

Where’s Mulder?

“I’m sure he’s aroundhere somewhere,” he comforted, assisting her as they both sat down. She wascertain she hadn’t asked that out loud. 

She felt unable to lookaway from his eyes, even as he started to lower his head down to the crook ofher neck. “Are you wearing perfume, Dana?”

Her name sounded like amelody rolling from his lips and she felt a sense of ease wash over her. Whyhad she been worried? What had Mulder been saying earlier? Don’t… what?

“It’s jasmine,” shewhispers as he leans in to smell it. She feels something wet on her neck andshe wonders if he just licked her. She wonders if she minds if he just lickedher.

But everything becamesubsidiary to the sudden waves of exhaustion and arousal that began pulsatingthrough her body. She feels like with each ache of yearning she feels betweenher legs is met with an equally intense feeling of drifting off to sleep. 

She hears a loud soundand then suddenly she’s falling backwards onto the cushion - the weight thathad been supporting her a moment ago now completely gone. Her vision isblurred, but she can see two tall figures moving around in front of her. Arethey dancing?

“What did you do toher?”

“What are you?”

“I’ll kill you!”

“Shit!”

She hears another fewbangs and crashes before she feels herself lifted up into a pair of arms. Shedoesn’t need to open her eyes to know it’s Mulder. She can smell him perfectly.

“I got you, Scully. Igot you. You’re going to be okay,” his panicked voice cried out.

3) 

He leaned her slumpedform against the door in the backseat of their rental as he crawled in next toher. Slamming the door shut behind him, he flicked the overhead light on,casting a dull yellow glow over Scully’s nearly unconscious form.

She was breathing, lowand steady, but her eyes were barely open and she was unresponsive to him. Buthis main focus, more than anything, was the blood running down her neck.

He bit her. He fuckingbit her.

Mulder didn’t need to beproficient in vampiric lore to know this really, really wasn’t good.

He grabbed his overnightbag from where it had fallen to the floor of the car and ripped it open to grabone of his shirts, bringing it up to her neck to stifle the blood and clean herneck. 

He didn’t know howthey’d gotten split up in the first place. They’d been together and then hejust remembered being lost and confused. 

Scully made a littlehumming sound in the back of her throat as she arched her back and slumped herhead to her other shoulder, revealing a red and angry bite mark.

Mulder felt a surge ofanger well up at the image of that man looming over Scully - the way he washolding her. He let out a shuddered breath as he lifted the fabric to shift itand put a clean area on the wound with shaky hands. “Scully, look at me,please,” he begged.

He saw her eyes flutteras she tried to orient herself. “Mulder?” she asked groggily.

“Here. I’m right here,Scully,” he rushed, thickly swallowing his relief.

He lifted his free handto her porcelain cheek and gently ran his thumb over the skin, coaxing her towake up. He watched as her eyes started to open fully, their absolute blackdilation unflinching against the light reflecting off of them. She locked eyeswith him and he felt his heart start to hammer in his chest.

“Hey,” she cooed softly.

4) 

Something was wrong.Very, very wrong.

She felt so weird. Likeevery cell in her body was on full alert. It was like a hyperfocus and sensoryoverload combined, yet it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It just felt extremelytargeted.

At Mulder.

She wasn’t sure if itwas because he’d been doting on her ever since they got to the hotel orsomething else, but she’d never felt so attuned with him. Never so aware of everydetail about him. Aside from a brief call to the local P.D to put a B.O.L.O outfor Vladmir, he hadn’t left her side, and she loved every moment of it. 

She’d appreciated hisrunner’s physique before, but she’d never acknowledged just how stronghe was. She’d pretended to be weaker than she really was so that he’d help herget into her room, and she was pleasantly surprised when he’d just hoisted herinto his arms without a moment’s hesitation. The whole time he’d just murmuredwords of reassurance in his silky smooth baritone.

What was exhilaratingher most was his scent. She usually loved his cologne, but she felt like it wasmore now, like she could smell his worry for her, his love, his dedication. Itthrilled her. 

“Scully, you’re worryingme. You haven’t been talking. Does your neck hurt?” he asked, standing in frontof the bed she was sprawled out on.

He’d taken off hisjacket and she could tell he was feeling warm. Whether it was from worry orsomething else, she wasn’t sure. She saw him swallow hard and her eyes trackedthe movement. The expanse of his throat looked so smooth and delicate. She feltlike she could see the thudding of his heart on his pulse point beating againstthe skin.

She arched her back andlet a little sigh escape her lips. “Will you hold me?” she asked, letting fauxfear tremble her voice.

Mulder’s brows furrowedin concerned sympathy as he nodded his head. “Of course. Of course,” he mumbledsoftly, crawling onto the bed to scoop her into his arms. 

5)

Mulder couldn’t tell ifshe was scared, confused, or calm. She hadn’t said anything since asking him tohold her, which came completely out of left field, but what she lacked in wordsshe was compensating in physicality.

He swore she was tryingto burrow inside his body with how close she was to him.

“H-how are you feeling,Scully?” he coughed, trying not to sound as tense as he felt.

“Much better,” shewhispered, her hot breath tickling his neck.

Speaking of hot, if itwasn’t for his desire to comfort her in anyway she needed, he’d strip off allhis clothes and take a cold shower. It didn’t even have anything to do with thesuggestive position she’d put them in, well, not completely. He just felt likea warmth was spreading through his whole body and pulsating. 

He jumped in surprisewhen he felt Scully start to kiss his neck. “Scully?” he questioned softly, notmoving. What was she doing?

��Hmm?” she hummed, thevibrations spreading across his skin. What had he been worried aboutearlier?

“Are you okay?” hemurmured, rubbing a hand lethargically up and down the thin fabric of herblouse.

“Never better,” shepurred before placing a wet kiss to his neck.

6)

He’d never felt soinvigorated. He’d always wanted this connection with Scully, but it skyrocketedfrom repressed desire to burning need within a few moments. The feeling of hermouth on his neck felt better than anything he’d ever experienced before in hisentire life. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been harder.

He felt her mouth leavehis neck as she pulled back, gasping for breath as the puffs of exhalation madethe saliva on his neck feel like ice. He took this break to roll over, trappingher body underneath his own as he laid on top of her. 

The first thing henoticed, aside from her big, black eyes looking up at him, was that she hadrich, red blood coating her lips. 

She looked ravishing.

Without a secondthought, he bent his head down and captured her mouth in his own, tastingcopper on his lips.

7)

She needed him more thanshe needed her next breath. 

Scully wasn’t sure wheretheir clothes had gone or how his head ended up between her legs, but she knewshe’d never been wetter. “Is this okay?” he rasped, pulling back for a moment tolook at her.

“No,” she panted, hervoice coming out with a whine. She lifted herself up onto her elbows to lookdown at him with an intense focus. “Because you stopped.”

From nose to chin, theentire bottom half of his face was glistening with arousal. She swore she saw adroplet gathering at his chin, threatening to drip off from excess. His smilestretched from ear to ear and went back to what he’d been doing. She tightenedher knees around his head and watched him lap at her with unbridled enthusiasm. 

One moment his tonguewas plunged inside her, the next it was wildly circling her clit. Each movementmade the pressure in her groin build and build. She felt her body climbing toinsurmountable heights and she knew this was going to be one of the mostpowerful orgams she’d ever had. 

“Mulder,” she cried in ahigh-pitch whine. Her hips started rocking and squirming under his touch,riding his face despite her supine position.

She felt Mulder’s handssnake furthur around her legs, digging his fingers into her thighs as hepressed his face harder into her crotch. She was effectively cemented to thebed with his oral attentions. 

She felt the twinges ofher orgasm building and she clung to the bed sheets with wild desperation. “Ohmy god,” she cried as he ate her like it was his life’s mission.

He moaned into her andthe vibrations were the final straw, her body burned in pleasure as her voicewent hoarse calling out his name.

8)

Scully. Scully. Scully.Scully.

Her name was like aconstant mantra replaying with each thrust into her. She lay underneath him,her legs wrapped around him like a vice as he buried himself in her warmth. Thiswas really happening. The smell of her sex coated the air, especiallypotent from its remnants on his lips and tongue. It was intoxicating and hefelt wild and empowered by the sensory knowledge that he was the cause of herarousal. He felt it against his crotch and heard it with every thrust, a thickslickness that drove him wild.

“You feel so good,” shegrowled, her nails scraping his back with a pain that shot straight to hiserection.

He buried his face intothe unmarred crook of her neck and nipped at it playfully. He’d never felt soclose to another person in his entire life. Her breasts were mashed against thefine hairs of his chest and he swore he could feel their hearts beating in timewith each other.

She grabbed his face andbrought his lips to her own, kissing him before biting his bottom lip to thepoint of drawing blood. Something told him it should hurt, but it didn’t. Shelapped at it and soothed the wound with her tongue as he plunged deeper and deeperinto her - hitting her cervix with every thrust. 

Scully’s mouth droppedopen against his own as she gasped, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.He angled his hips to rub against her g-spot and watched as she twitched andquivered underneath him, her walls spasming around his cock with unforgivingintensity.

9) 

She’d come five timessince they started.

She was currently ridinghim, her hands bracketing his head as he watched her with unadulteratedadoration. His hands were gripping her hips in desperation as he helped lifther body before slamming it back down onto him. Occasionally, he’d reach aroundand grab the meat of her ass in his hands, using it to grind her pelvis intohis as hard as he could. 

She could hear hisbreath starting to hitch as his impending orgasm made itself known. His eyeswere glossed over with pleasure and he’d never looked more beautiful.

“That’s it, Mulder,” shepraised, goading him on. She wanted to feel nothing more in this moment thanhim releasing inside of her. She wanted to take absolutely everything he had togive her. 

She wanted to make himhers.

“Scully,” he groaned,thrusting into her so rapidly that his hips were starting to arch off the bedto meet her. 

She sat back down on himand rolled her hips repeatedly on him, making his cock rub every inch insideher. She felt his grip tighten as he pulled her down on top of him, his armreaching around her to keep her pressed to him as he thrust a few final times,spurting hot and deep inside of her. 

“You’re mine,” shegrowled into his ear, pumping her hips against him.

10)

“Ecstasy?” she balked,not believing what she was hearing.

“Every single victim?”Mulder asked in disbelief. 

“That’s right,” the labtechnician replied. The toxicology reports Scully had requested in his hands.

“How was it ingested ineach case?” she asked, trying to remember how she possibly could have takenfucking ecstasy. 

“I’m not sure. It couldhave been in tab form, liquid form, I’m not sure,” he shrugged. 

“And that explains thevictims’ confusion?” Mulder asked.

“Yep, the heat theyfelt, the increased sex drive, lack of inhabitions, the decrease in painreceptors,” he listed. “There were occasionally a few other drugs, to muchlesser degrees at play, but the ecstasy definitely had a big part.”

“Thanks for letting usknow,” Scully replied before turning to leave with Mulder.

She was just grateful noone had commented on her and Mulder’s sudden, matching inclination towardsturtle necks.

Or the fact they wereboth walking funny.