#the worst part is at some point i probably will buy it even though i know its wrong | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feroluce · 4 months

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For some weird reason, I've always been fascinated by how wildly different Sampo operates in the Underground vs the Overworld.

Sampo is present in both places and even in official sources, he's not really counted as one side or the other- now that the theory has been confirmed in-game, he's generally just lumped in with the Masked Fools.

But there really is a big difference!

Probably the most obvious and well known instance of Sampo's...business practices *cough burglary and fraud COUGH* in the Overworld is from the Belobog Museum event. In it, you don't find out Sampo is the main culprit until near the end, because Pela has to set up a sting just to catch him in the act. And that sting is necessary all because the initial suspect they arrested, Norbert, had pretty much no idea of his partner's identity. Sampo wouldn't even speak to him face-to-face.

And whereas Sampo is normally very pleasant and friendly with the trailblazer...when he thinks he's talking to Norbert here, he straight up says that they are NOT friends. Like he really shuts that shit DOWN.

There's also an Overworld NPC, Chavez, who heads the "Dark Blue Scam Support Group." And he. Really really really does not like Sampo fjkdasjklfdj

Chavez clearly wants Sampo caught, and has literally no positive feelings about him. So. Why call it the Dark Blue Scam? Why not just out him by name? Chavez obviously doesn't give a single shit about Sampo's dignity or privacy. But he never once refers to him as "Sampo," and even the pamphlets he passes out make no mention of it. No one in the entire support group seems to know how to identify him or how to refer to him except by his hair color. If the trailblazer says his name, Chavez reacts as though he's never heard it before.

(I've seen people say this means Sampo Koski is an alias and not his real name? But Ray pointed this out, and honestly I agree; even the Fools call him Sampo, after all. I think it's just that Chavez never knew Sampo's name in the first place, and given his immense distrust, immediately assumes it's an alias.)

And then there's his characters stories, where he proceeds to pull off a heist in the Overworld while in disguise as Brughel Poisson the entire time. Literally his own stories don't mention Sampo's name even once.

So anyway, all this shows that when he's up in the Overworld working cons, Sampo is incredibly slippery and secretive about his identity. The only people who seem to know him are Pela, Serval, and Gepard. He doesn't get close to anyone else, and is even surprisingly unfriendly. Nobody knows his name. No one knows his face. He has zero qualms about backstabbing or double-crossing, and even plans for it in some cases.

Meanwhile, down in the Underground, I'm pretty sure literally the worst thing we hear of him doing is scalping tickets in front of the Fight Club. Which isn't even illegal in a lot of places (although it's certainly a dick move).

In Hook's companion quest, a vagrant miner steals Fersman's equipment and tries to sell it to Sampo. Even before the trailblazer and Hook jump in and out the vagrant as a thief, Sampo hesitates to buy it because it sounds like stolen goods, which he doesn't want any part of.

Even knowing that a geomarrow detector is rare and incredibly valuable in the mines, Sampo makes no attempt to double-cross Hook or profit off of her loss, and even tells her who to go to to get it fixed.

And my favorite example of Sampo in the Underground is the Survival Wisdom adventure mission. In it, Sampo starts up a business with Peak, another miner. And like. In wild contrast to all the cons he pulls above ground, Sampo is actually super nice and helpful here.

Just the same as with Hook's quest, Sampo talks to Peak face-to-face, with no disguises or barriers. When the trailblazer finds them, they're just in the Great Mine, no secretive meeting places. Peak knows Sampo, is familiar with him, and calls him by name. It's not even a con! There's nothing illegal going on; it really is just a business partnership. Peak is more than happy with their deal, he's even pretty enthusiastic about it, because thanks to Sampo he can now make enough money to get by while also accommodating his chronic fatigue.

The only person Sampo lies to in this whole ordeal is the trailblazer, who he manipulates into getting Peak's mining equipment back from the vagrants that stole it in the first place. And when it's done, he rewards them with a legit treasure map.

So when he's working in the Underground, Sampo is MUCH more upright and lawful. Part of this is probably to do with his "business" model- Sampo only takes advantage of the wealthy, and poverty runs rampant in the Underground. When he charges Peak an extra 30% (the same percentage he charges Norbert as a consultation fee in the museum heists- Sampo seems to go by percentage instead of a flat rate, which means his prices are more fair for lower incomes) for carelessly losing their supply, Peak literally starts counting out pocket change.

Dude's working for pennies and good will down there dknsmdmd

And you can twist this into a Robin Hood thing if you want- Sampo IS technically working to feed orphans and heal the sick. He says himself he's more than happy to make up the shortfall between the greedy and the marginalized- I mean he says it in the shadiest way possible, but I doubt the people benefiting from his work really care that he's a slimeball if it means they can survive another day. Even the two heists he pulls in his character stories are literally just him stealing absurd amounts of food.

Personally though I think it is solely because of Natasha, and Sampo is hilariously well-behaved specifically for her, because she keeps him on a short leash JSKZJMSMSKS

#honkai star rail #sampotasha #hsr natasha #sampo koski #hsr sampo #hsr #today's post is brought to you by the letter Y. for the Yaps fdklsajfkd #'for some weird reason' I say only to realize through writing this post that the reason I like it so much is because I think-#-Natasha having Sampo by the short hairs is funny dkxjmskskdmdm #so sampotasha if you want or Sampo & Natasha if you want either or #I love Sampo behaving just for her because she holds a LOT of power in the Underground and he knows she could destroy him if she wanted #she could blacklist his business and run him out of Boulder Town if she really thought she needed to #Natasha exiled her own brother who eventually died in the cold because he was running unethical medical experiments on unknowing civilians #and granted what Sampo does is nowhere NEAR as bad as that but she also probably does not have nearly as much mercy for him dkdjdmkskd #I'd like to think they hold a decent amount of camaraderie for each other though. and maybe even some affection.#they work together like all the time after all. sampo is in the clinic with natasha so much that hook thought he was really sick.#and for as much as he relies on her for business she also relies on him for resources.#it's not really an exaggeration to say a LOT more people would be dead without Sampo constantly smuggling goods across the border.#maybe I should just make a post about their relationship sometime because I do very much love it skzjkskdk

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b3ach-bunn7 · 8 months

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WET CIGARETTES

Gojo Satoru, your prettiest customer, insists on ordering the most insane drinks possible. As a barista, it’s your duty to fullfill them.

alternate!universe, fluff, happy ending

(This is a long one guys 🙈)

——————————————————————

You love your job. The truth is, the people who romanticise working at a coffee shop were exactly right. Yes, the hours can be long, and the occasional Karen can turn what should be a five-minute interaction into a half an hour one. And sometimes you go home with burns from a hot coffee pot, or spills on your favourite trousers. But you love every part of your job.

Except for Gojo Satoru.

Your most troublesome customer. You know he goes to your university, because you’ve seen him wearing a hoodie with its logo on it. You assume you both have different majors, because you don’t cross paths at all.

But he comes to the shop every day without fail. And he orders the most complicated, diabetes-inducing drinks known to man. He strolls up to the counter, blinking those bright blue eyes at you, with his perfect smile and his hair that looks so soft to touch and starts rattling off his order.

Okay, it’s not the worst thing in the world. Gojo is easy on the eyes, and it’s quite funny to see how far he’ll take it. You’re not exactly sure if he even consumes the stuff he buys. Maybe he’s trying to impress you. Maybe he’s trying to annoy you. You think he succeeds more with the second option, but it’s fine. You like the little challenge everyday.

Today, you’re wiping down the counter when you see him appear behind it and begin drumming his fingers against it.

“Hi, sugar.”

You look up, unamused. He’s wearing a black compression shirt that hugs his muscles and grey sweatpants. He’s probably come back from the gym, judging by the sweat that sticks some strands of his white hair to his forehead. He looks good. Whatever.

“Gojo. What monstrosity will it be today?”

He hums under his breath. He rests his cheek on his palm. His skin is so clear. For all the coffee he drinks, at least.

“I would like… A single shot, 4 pumps sugar free peppermint, nonfat, extra hot, no foam, light whip stirred grande white mocha.”

Your mouth gapes. “Gojo. What? That’s not- what even is that?”

He laughs, loud and boyish. The shop is quite empty, so, you can take your time to mock his ridiculous request.

“I don’t know. Thought I’d try something different, you know?”

“You try something different everyday. I think this one wins the stupidest order yet.”

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart. You know you like it. I bring some joy to the darkness that is your shift.” He pouts and leans forward.

You rolls your eyes. You turn and grab a cup to begin concocting his drink.

“Don’t call me that. And it doesn’t bring me joy. It does test my memory, though,” you pause, “How many pumps of peppermint was it?”

“Four. And what’s wrong with sweetheart?”

“I’m not your sweetheart, Gojo.”

He groans. He watches as you flit around behind the counter, going to steam the milk for his drink.

“Come on, what else am I supposed to call you? I don’t know your name.”

You point to the name tag pinned to your shirt.

“Yes you do.”

“That’s not your name.”

You nod and insist that it is. His eyebrows raise and he nods towards it.

“Your name is Brian?”

“Cute, right? I don’t like strangers using my real name, so they let me print a fake one.” You smile.

“It’s a shame, really. Brian suits you.” You stick your tongue out and Gojo grins.

The drink doesn’t take long. You make one of the fancy milk designs on the top, and slide it over to him.

“Here you go.”

He thanks you. He peers at the design at the top, eyeing the drink.

“I like this. You should learn how to draw my face on there.”

“Ah, yes. You’re right, that does sound like a great way to pass my time.” You nod sarcastically.

He sips the drink carefully. His nose scrunches and he sticks his tongue out.

“Oh, that is not good. At all.”

You laugh. You reach over and grab the drink, taking a swig. Gojo protests, but you can tell his effforts to get it back are half-assed. You wince, the warm peppermint drink sliding down your throat.

“Yeah, gross. How did you even come up with this?”

He shrugs, “They just come to me.” He nods at the cup in your hand, “You know, we basically just kissed.”

You snort, “You can keep dreaming, Gojo.”

“Oh, you’re definitely in my dreams, baby. All the dirty ones.”

Oh, he’s feeling brave today. You turn to hide the flush that dusts your cheeks. You wipe down the steamer.

“Baby is gross.”

“Tell me your name then.”

You point at the name tag on your shirt. Gojo groans and runs a hand through his hair. You glance down at the ignored drink on the counter.

“Gojo, you haven’t even touched your drink.”

He shrugs. “Oh, well. It’s not like I can’t pay for it.”

You hum under your breath. Rich people.

The shop starts filling up, and your manager pops his head around the door to tell you to get a move on.

“Sorry, Gojo. You gotta get a move on.”

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You wave him off, sighing as he drops his drink in the trash.

——

The next day, Gojo walks in with someone else. A girl, short brown hair and an unlit cigarette in her mouth. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. Maybe she’s a girlfriend. Gojo seems awfully close to her, a smile gracing his lips as she says something to him.

You’re staring. You turn away quickly. It’s none of your business what he’s up to and you don’t care, anyway. Gojo could be married for all you care.

He bounds up to the front. Gojo has a way of taking up every space he’s in, and as he leans across the counter, he’s all you can see.

“Hey, cutie.”

“Hello. What can I do for you today?”

“Aw. No complaints. You like cutie?”

“Feels like something a 12 year old would call his discord girlfriend, but. Sure, let’s go with that.”

He laughs, but he straightens up quickly.

“Look, I’ve got no time for our cute banter today. I’ll have a Venti, triple-shot caramel macchiato, with three pumps of vanilla, two pumps of hazelnut, one pump of caramel, a sprinkle of cinnamon, and extra whipped cream on top.”

“No time for banter, but time for all of that.”

“Oh, and a mocha.”

You smile. “Who’s that normal order for?”

He points at the girl he came in with, who’s gone outside to smoke her cigarette.

“Shoko. Luckily for you, she likes normal people drinks.”

You turn to start making their drinks. Today’s order is much tamer than usual. It actually sounds like it might taste nice, and it’s sugary enough to satiate his sweet tooth. You wonder if he’ll ask that girl to try it for him.

“So. You got any plans today?” You say.

“Mhm. My friend and I are going shopping. She asked me to keep her company, but I think she likes my credit card’s presence more than mine.”

“Makes sense. At least she gets something out of the card.”

“Ha ha ha. Come on, she gets mean when she’s impatient.”

You shake your head, waiting for the milk to steam. “It takes as long as it takes.”

“Okay, Carla.”

“Wrong.”

“Bridget?”

You tell him he’s wrong again and laugh at his whining. You finish his drink off with an alarming amount of whip cream, to his request, and place it and the mocha on the counter.

“Done in record time.” You wink.

He tries it, and perks up.

“I’m impressed. This one actually tastes nice.”

He slides it over to you, and you take a sip.

“Yeah, you’re right. It is nice.” You say, incredulously.

“Can I have a sip?”

You look to the left and Gojo’s ‘friend’ has appeared. She smells a little like cigarettes but she’s so breathtakingly pretty that you don’t think anyone‘s really worried about that. She takes a drink before Gojo can protest, and she winces.

“God, it’s so sweet. You’ll die an early death if you keep going on like this.”

“Well, good thing it’s not for you.” He grabs it and passes her the mocha.

The girl looks over at you and smiles.

“Hey. I’m Shoko. It’s nice to meet you. Gojo doesn’t shut up about you.”

You tilt your head at the boy, who is looking away from the two of you, and coo.

“Aw, how sweet!” You awe, pressing a hand to your heart.

“He calls you Barista girl. Says you make the best drinks.”

You shrug. “I wouldn’t say best. I am the only one who will make his insane orders, though.”

“That’s true. He doesn’t even drink them half the time. Just throws them away the second he leaves. It’s like the only reason he comes here is so-“

“Okay! Okay, we’ve got to go.” Gojo claps his hands together, cutting off Shoko, and steering her away.

She grins, waving at you. She yells it was nice to meet you, and you say it back, much to Gojos dismay, and wonder what the real reason he comes here is.

——-

The next time Gojo comes in, he looks good. He’s wearing a black button up, the top few buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up to show his forearms. There’s a silver chain around his neck, and his hair is done up in a way that looks effortless and prepared at the exact same time. He’s also holding a bouquet of pretty flowers, pink and white and perfect looking.

God. You move away before he notices you blatantly staring at him. It’s almost closing, and you’ve got ten minutes before you’re free to go. You should be annoyed at his presence. You and Choso, the guy you were working with tonight, had just cleaned up, and you know Gojo’s order would probably need every appliance in the building. Any other customer would be shunned away, a quick point at the clock.

But Gojo’s not any other customer. Not that you’d ever tell him that.

“Hey, Gojo.”

He smiles. “Hey, gorgeous.”

Your cheeks heat up. God, if only he wasn’t so attractive. It would be so much easier to act like you don’t care when he calls you all those things.

“You look nice. You going somewhere after this?”

“Mhm. I’m going on a date.”

You pause to where you’re emptying out the coffee pots. A date? He was seeing someone else after spending god knows how long flirting with you?

You shouldn’t be surprised. He’s never asked you out, and Gojo is attractive enough to be someone who doesn’t care about girls' feelings. You know you should’ve seen this coming. It probably was just a little fun he had everyday, joking around with the oblivious, head-over-heels barista who allowed him to act like a dick with his stupid coffee orders.

Whatever.

“That’s nice. What can I get for you? You need to hurry up though, because we’re closing soon.” Your voice is flat, and your hand rests on your hip.

“Uh. Just a coffee.”

You frown. “No obnoxious order today?”

“Nah. I’ve got places to be. And I need to be awake tonight, if you get my drift.” He winks and you scoff.

You turn and fill the coffee pot, a little more aggressively than normal. You unfortunately do get his drift. Before you can say anything in response, Choso comes out from the back.

Choso is cute. He looks intimidating, always monotoned and looking sleep-deprived, but he was a sweetheart. He always ties his hair into little buns, draws cute designs on top of the lattes, and always makes sure you don’t close alone. Plus, he looks good in an apron. You think you’d like him if it weren’t for an annoying blue-eyed boy and his stupid orders.

“You okay if I clock out?”

You turn to him and smile. “Yeah, I’ll lock up. You working tomorrow?”

Choso takes his apron off and drapes it over his shoulder. You turn to face him, effectively ignoring Gojo.

“Nope.”

“What? Choso, come on, I can’t work if you’re not there, it’s so boring!”

He laughs, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. It make the muscles in his arms stand out, and wow. Does he work out? Probably.

“You’ll be fine without me.”

“I won’t.” You pout.

“Goodbye.” He walks away, nodding at Gojo, who looks just peachy waiting for his coffee.

“So who’s that?”

You turn back to face him. “Choso. He works here.”

“Yeah, I figured. You like him?”

“Yeah. He’s great. My favourite coworker.”

Gojo nods slowly. A weird sort of quiet settles over you two. A part of you wants to ask who’s he’s going on a date with, but you respect yourself too much for that.

“What time do you get off?” He speaks up.

You pause slightly. “Me?”

Gojo raises an eyebrow. “No, the other barista behind the counter. Yes, you.”

“Oh. I’m done in ten.”

“Okay, good. Our reservation is in half an hour, so we should make it.”

The coffee pot whirs to let you know it’s ready. Instead, you keep staring at Gojo, who’s looks all too serious for somebody speaking nonsense.

“What?”

“It’s a nice place, don’t worry. Thought I’d splurge, to impress you. These are for you, by the way.” He thrusts the flowers towards you.

“I- What? Gojo, what’s going on?” You laugh, a little hysterical, confused as to what the hell is happening.

He grins. He walks right over to the you, leaning over the counter, so you’re a couple inches away from each other.

“You really think I’d ask anybody else out? I’ve been asking for these stupid orders at for weeks now just to throw them out so I could talk to you, that wasn’t a hint?”

“Yeah, but I just. I don’t know, I thought you were just messing around!”

“Are you really that clueless?”

“Hey! You-“ You stop for a second.

You take the apron from around your neck and throw it behind you into the office. You cross your arms and you nearly laugh at the nervous look that crosses his face.

“Did you make a reservation and dress yourself up for a date you didn’t even ask me to?”

Gojo scratches the back of his head. “I-“

“And then come in here and just tell me when it’s happening, without even giving me time to prepare myself?”

“I- Barista girl, I can explain.” He clasps his hands together.

“And you still don’t even know my name.”

He sighs. “The mystery is part of the fun, babe.”

You smile slightly. You have no idea what went through his head, but it’s cute he tried so hard. Even if it was a little weird.

“What if I had plans tonight, huh?”

Gojo shrugs. “I was hoping you’d cancel them for me.”

“And if I didn’t?”

“Not too sure. Maybe throw the coffee I’m still waiting for in your face?”

You perk up suddenly, remembering the pot that was still bubbling behind you. You take a cup and fill it for him, fit it with a lid and give it to him.

“So. Are you going to ask me out properly?”

He nods. His face is determined and he grabs the flowers from your hands. He takes two steps back and he walks forward.

“Barista girl, will you do me the honours of going on a date with me tonight?”

You frown, sighing dramatically, “I don’t know. I’ve had such a long shift. I’m tired.”

Gojo grabs your hands, pulling you towards him. The counter gets in the way, but you don’t think he cares. The two of you are still close enough that if you moved a couple inches forwards you’d be kissing. He smells like something expensive, and it overwhelms your senses. His lips quirk up in a little smirk, and you think your skin is buzzing where he’s touching you.

“I’m sure I can help wake you up, baby. You just gotta say yes.”

“I- I kinda look like shit, though.” You whisper.

“Don’t say that, you look beautiful.”

You know you don’t. Your hair is being held up poorly by a claw clip, random strands falling out of it. Your mascara is slightly smudged under your eyes, and there’s a lovely new coffee stain on the shirt you're wearing, courtesy of Choso knocking into you before you got a chance to put your apron on.

But he’s looking right at you like you’re the most incredible thing that he’s ever laid his eyes on that you feel like you might actually believe him.

“Okay. Okay, fine. If you let me go home and freshen up. Put a dress on, or something.”

“Oh, I can get behind that.”

You snort a laugh, stepping back. The nervousness from before is gone, and he’s grinning at you excitedly. He waits the few minutes it takes you to lock up, and holds his arm out for you to take while he walks you to his car.

It’s seven in the evening and the sun is just starting to set. The sky is beginning to turn, seeping from blue to orange to pink, and the light is catching off Gojos face. He’s speaking animatedly as he talks about the restaurant he’s taking you too, oblivious to your staring. He’s planned every last detail, somehow remembering when you said that you loved Asian food about a month ago.

You don’t really know much about Gojo. You do know enough to say that he is so sweet it makes your teeth rot.

You say your name, then, softly enough that he nearly misses it. He stops mid sentence and turns to you.

“Is that your name?”

You nod.

“You have a very pretty name.”

You smile. “Thank you.”

He nods slowly. “You can call me Satoru, by the way.”

“Okay, Satoru.” The name feels nice on your tongue.

He groans when you say it, hand reaching up to cup your face.

“God, it sounds so beautiful when you say it. It’d sound even better if you were screaming it, though.”

You roll your eyes, face a fiery red, and let a laughing Satoru lead you into his car.

——————————————————————

AUTHORS NOTE

Gojo satoru the man that u r.. also that cosplayer is EXACTLY how I envision him in my brain.. so obsessed..

again, any requests r welcome! (I’m literally lost for ideas)

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #fluff #jjk fluff #oneshot #b3ach-bunn7

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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 9 months

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Light My Love -II - T.Nott

Series Summary - Follow Y/N as she navigated the wizarding world on her own, starting from her first year, all the way through to her seventh. As she falls in love and get her heart broken, how a certain friend is always there to mend her broken heart even though his is slowly getting broken in the process.

Chapter Summary - It's exam season before the Winter break and Y/N receives help from someone unexpected. Spending nearly every night awake studying for the exams, she is quite exhausted. Theo takes note of this and helps her out. After a long night of studying, the Slytherin boys see something rather interesting related to their dear friend Y/N.

Pairings - Theo Nott x Fem!Reader(eventual)

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST, LEAVE ME A COMMENT ON THIS POST!

Series Warnings - Blood purity, dark wizards, Reader is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, pining, angst, reader will have some shitty boyfriends, Female Reader, use of Y/N

Chapter Warnings - Female Reader, use of Y/N, mentions of food and eating, poorly written angst, crying, rough parent-child relationship, profanity

Author's Note - Welcome to part 2 of this series! I will be creating a masterlist for this series after I post this so keep an eye out! I will link it when it's done!

Word Count - 1479

My full Masterlist

Series Masterlist

My requests are open!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

It had taken her a few days to go back to normal but with the help of Theo and Draco, she was fine. Her mother had a certain affect on her, she knew just how to hurt her daughter. Draco understood this, his father was the exact same way, Theo’s father the same as well. That was the way the Death Eaters worked, they were harsh on their families especially with having to lay low as the dark lord was gone.

Her grade in Quirrell’s class improved with the unexpected help of Hermione Granger. She was not only Y/N’s academic rival but also Theo’s. She was willing to help the Slytherin despite the friends of the girl. She was back to acing all of her classes, buying some limited edition books as a thank you to Hermione.

It was the end of November, the autumn air getting colder as snow started falling from the sky, coating the Scottish Highlands. Exams were quickly approaching, the stress of another thing placed atop her shoulders. She had just managed to get her grade up in her worst class but now she was pulling all-nighters in the library or the common room studying.

Her friends had taken note of the change in her, how she was always tired and sluggish, she was constantly falling asleep in class and just overall dull. She had lost her sparkle and charisma due to the long nights of studying. All of her friends were worried but Theo had taken the cake, he was acting like her little servant. Anything she wanted, he went and got for her. Anytime she needed a break, he was there to entertain her. Anytime she needed help on an assignment, he was right there guiding her to the correct answer.

She was grateful to have someone like Theodore Nott in her life. He may have been a loner, but he was always happy to be with her, to help her with whatever she needed.

The weeks of studying had flown by and exam week was finally here. Her first one was arguably the easiest, Potions. She was able to pass the exam no problem, getting the best grade in the class. Right after she did her potions exam she had to do her exam for History of Magic. She was a bit nervous for this one, getting a pep talk from Draco and Theo right before.

“You have the best grade in the class, you’re going to pass the exam with no issue! If anyone is going to fail it’s going to be Draco,” Theo assured her.

“Hey!” Draco protested, “I’m not going to fail! It’s probably going to be Weasley who fails, he always sleeps in class.”

“So do you!” Y/N pointed out with a giggle causing the two boys to share a victorious look. Theo ushered the three of them inside the classroom, taking their seats in the back. Once all of the exams were given out and the papers were flipped over, her confidence skyrocketed. She knew every single question and knew the answers like the back of her hand. Some of the questions even pertained to her extended family, like the Gaunt family.

She was the first one to finish and turn in her exam. She waited outside the class as her friends were still inside taking the test. It wasn’t until the end of the hour that the two boys came out, relieved looks on their faces for finally finishing the exam. They made their way to dinner together, stress eating more sweets than actual food before making their way back to the common room.

She took her usual place next to the large window outlooking the depths of the Black Lake, pulling out her study guides and flashcards for the next exams. Theo sat beside her as he always did, asking her the questions on her flashcards and waiting to hear her answers, which were usually all right. Midnight quickly approached, the two of them half asleep, Theo coaxing her into calling it a night.

“C’mon bellissima, it’s late, we should go to bed,” He yawned out, rubbing his eyes gently as he did so.

“Five more minutes?” She begged him, a pout on her face. She looked at him with a sparkle in her eye and a hint of a smile covered by the pout.

“It’s already midnight, principessa. Let’s go to bed, we can wake up early and get back to it.”

“But Theo, I really need to pass these exams. Just five more minutes, please?” He couldn’t say no again, not with the look on her pretty face. He was slipping, letting out a groan as he finally gave in.

“Fine, five more minutes. No more than that, got it?” She nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek before they continued to study. His cheeks turned pink as he looked down at the next flashcard. “What is the incantation for the levitation spell?”

“Wingardium Leviosa! Easy!”

The rest of the Slytherin house was quiet, the only two awake were Y/N and Theo, sitting in front of the window as he asked her questions and she answered. Their study session lasted much longer than five minutes. The next thing they knew, their housemates were all waking up and filing into the common room. Theo looked at the time before letting out a gasp.

“Oh Salazar! We’ve been awake for 24 hours! You said five more minutes!” Theo realised with a groan. He wasn’t mad at her in the slightest but she felt guilty.

“I’m so sorry Theo. I didn’t even realise the time until everyone started to wake. Go to your dorm to rest a bit before the day actually starts, please. I can finish up by myself,” She rambled guiltily.

“It’s okay, principessa. If I’m going to rest, you’re coming with me. You need rest too, you know?” Theo teased her, causing a smile to take over her face. He stood up, offering her his hand which she gladly took. Theo helped her up and led her to his room that he shared with Draco, Blaise, Enzo and Mattheo. The four boys still in the room and wide awake, sending teasing remarks to the pair. “Oh shove off, we just spent all night studying in the common room. We’re just going to rest here through breakfast,” Theo defended the two of them.

“Good, you both look like death incarnate. I’ve never seen dark circles that were nearly black,” Mattheo teased before heading out of the room. The three others bid the pair goodbye and the promise of getting them up after breakfast was over.

Y/N and Theo climbed into his bed and fell asleep almost immediately. They slept all the way through breakfast and the first 2 hours of classes which thankfully were cancelled. Draco, Blaise and Enzo sticking true to their word of waking the pair up when it was time for the first class of the day. It was exam day for Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The two of them woke up with a start when they heard screaming, bumping their heads together and groaning in pain. The three boys laughed at the two as they rubbed the sleep out of their eyes. “That was hilarious! I wish we got a video of that!” Blaise laughed.

“Fuck off Zabini!” Y/N groaned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed before standing. “I swear you guys have better beds than the girls. My bed feels like a rock,” She yawned, stretching her arms over her head. Her shirt riding up revealed an interesting scar on her abdomen. It was almost identical to the scar on Harry Potter’s forehead, just slightly larger.

“Where’d you get the scar from?” Draco asked with curiosity.

“None of your business, Draco. I’m gonna go back to my dorm to get ready,” She snapped before rushing out of the room quickly.

“Am I the only one who saw it? It looked like Potter’s scar,” he mentioned to the three other boys.

“I saw it too, I wonder if she got it in a similar way. An unforgivable curse backfiring but leaving her with a scar? It’s possible, right?” Enzo theorised before shaking his head, “Nevermind, just let her come to us about it. It’s better that way than us trying to figure out where it came from.” With that, Enzo and Blaise left the room to make their way to Flitwick’s class.

“You think her parents did that?” Theo asked, his voice deeper and laced with sadness just thinking about it.

“I mean probably. You know how her mum is, she’s a terrible woman and her father is a terrible man. I can only imagine what she goes through being stuck in that house day in and day out.”

Taglist:

@bigsimperika @melllinaa @chgrch @the-girl-who-simps-too-much

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genericpuff · 6 months

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saw a post criticizing lore rekindled a while back, and one of the points made was "it's unfair to rachel that someone else can profit off and make money off her work"

do you profit off lore rekindled??? i don't remember if you ever said that you were monetizing lore rekindled, so i'm unsure where this piece of information came from

I literally do NOT profit off Rekindled in any way shape or form, it's a Tumblr comic that's free to read, zero subscriptions, paywalls, or ads.

I did just recently open a Patreon and apply my Twitch channel to become affiliate, but 1. my Patreon doesn't have any paid members yet , 2. my Patreon won't be offering rewards that limit the reading experience of Rekindled (it's gonna be like random doodles n junk), and 3. I haven't even streamed since I applied for Affiliate and people are watching the streams for art and lo-fi, not for any sort of exclusive reading experiences that wouldn't also be accessible on Tumblr (you just get to watch me slowly work on Rekindled while playing FF XIV LMAOO) All of these restrictions I have in place is to prevent exactly what folks assume or accuse me - profiting off Rachel's IP. At the end of the day I just wanna create an AU fanfic project, even if it's created out of disappointment for what could have been.

I *do* spend a few hundred a month though for my assistant. So I'm working on Rekindled completely at a loss, out of my own pocket. So in that regard, even if I were to monetize any part of Rekindled... it wouldn't be for my own profitable gain, I'd maybe be able to cover some of my assistant fees 🤣 (but that's just hypothetical food for thought, because as I said above, I don't want to monetize Rekindled because of the potentially legal and ethical issues in doing so. Making money is also just not why I'm making Rekindled because it's something I wanna just do for fun! Money complicates things, turns shit into a job :'0) And let's be real, in that hypothetical scenario, I don't think any money I could generate on my free to read Tumblr project would come anywhere close to threatening Rachel's bottom line 🤣

And this isn't to throw anyone under the bus but when people get suspicious of Rekindled profiting off LO, I can't help but think of the actual fans of LO selling handmade LO merch on Etsy and LO-style adoptables and other arts and crafts dedicated to their favorite comic. And I'm not gonna judge them for that, more power to 'em if people wanna buy their cool stuff (and some of it is really REALLY cool, like I wanna buy their stuff too LOL), I just think it's ironic that people separate the two because... I'm not a diehard fan? Or because Rekindled has gotten popular here. Beats me. All that "popularity" is still just a niche remake of a niche comic in a niche medium. It's not Spiderman Lotus levels of big 🤣 but I know it probably feels that big to people who are engaged with this fandom and spend a lot of time in it.

There's an opposite side of being a yes man that perpetuates similar behavior on the other side - when you come up with reasons to rag on someone just for the sake of it because you can't rationalize them NOT being the all 100% pulp of evil LMAO (and I see people do this even to Rachel and it's not fair imo, like people who use the Lolita thing as a way to accuse Rachel of being a legitimate pedophile? Like no, I don't think we should be normalizing serious accusations like that. I think she's just misinformed in a lot of ways at worst and suffering from dark romantasy porn brainrot at best LOL).

Like, as an example, I've also seen people claim stuff like I'm in the fan spaces telling people not to read LO and to read LR instead? Which like... why would I do that, LR isn't for the fans anyways and I don't gain anything by being a dick in their space 🤣 If my own readers are doing that, that's out of my hands (but respectfully don't do this please!!! there's a reason I don't use the standard LO hashtags and only stick to the anti ones!!!!) but again (and this is a big assumption so take with grains of salt) I think people just like to claim these things because they feel it's just naturally the right thing to do when someone who has opinions they don't like actually puts them into action. Because now they can't say shit like "well if you think you're so much smarter than Rachel why don't YOU write the story!" and "you don't know what it's like to manage a comic!" so they grapple onto whatever other argument they can even if it's misconstrued or entirely pulled out of thin air and not backed up with any legitimate evidence.

Their perspectives make sense to them. My perspective makes sense to me. I don't blame people for being suspicious when they see someone like me pour this much time and effort and money into a project like Rekindled, they assume it HAS to do with something they can rationalize from their own point of view, like wanting to "steal" Rachel's work or profit off it or take it for myself out of "jealousy".

Sorry to disappoint y'all with a boring answer, but I'm just someone who was once a huge fan of LO and couldn't let it go. I'm just someone who's way too hyperfixated, with a lot of passion for making comics and experience to match. I'd still be making it even if I didn't have an assistant. I'd still be making it even if I was stuck working with nothing but paper and pencil. Because I love making it and I love what it means to me, and I love that it makes other people feel the same way I do about it.

And that's really all I have to say on that.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore rekindled #lore rekindled ama

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ebongawk · 7 months

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oooh hellcheer hc is that eddie goes into fully nurse mode whenever chrissy’s sick. she has a cold? he’s fussing over her, making soup from scratch thank you very much bc he’s actually a great cook. cramps? he buys out her favorite chocolate from the corner store, he’s got three different types of heat packs ready, he’ll massage her belly for hours if that’s what it takes to make her feel better

Here's the thing: Chrissy was never home when Eddie got out of the studio on Wednesdays.

Wednesdays were their short days. The band's self-proclaimed 'recharge' days. The midweek break they all pretended to need that they'd written into their contracts so the fucking producer wouldn't throw a fit when Jeff dipped out at eleven to go meet his girlfriend at the train station, because Marie was in Boston Saturday night through Wednesday morning for work.

Eddie usually wandered in after a fast food lunch and a grocery run around one o'clock. Chrissy wasn't even off most days until four. So when he walked in the front door and was greeted with the curdling scream of horror queen Janet Leigh on the tube?

Yeah, Eddie about had a heart attack. Like full-on hand-over-the-heart terror.

"Sorry," Chrissy croaked from the couch as she frantically turned the volume of her vintage horror flick down. Psycho. Classic. Eddie hadn't even noticed her, she was so bundled up in blankets. A Chrissy burrito that could've passed for a rumpled throw blanket. "Sorry, sorry. You came in at the worst part."

Shit, she sounded awful.

"That's my specialty," Eddie breathed, dropping the excess number of grocery bags in the foyer and tripping over his own feet to make it to her side. "What's up, buttercup? How come you're home so early?"

Shit, she looked awful. All curled up and shivering despite the throw around her shoulders and the duvet she'd dragged in from their bedroom. Eddie automatically put a hand on her forehead, hissing at the burn beneath his palm.

"Think I caught the bug that's been going around on the publishing floor," Chrissy said, covering her mouth with the throw as she talked. Trying to breathe on him as little as possible. But her sinuses were so full, he doubted she could take in any air from her nose. "Editors were next, I knew it, but everyone insisted it'd stay quarantined upstairs."

"Morons," Eddie huffed, eyes raking over her face. Her blotchy, feverish cheeks; her bloodshot eyes ringed in the purple bruises of exhaustion. Her lips were dry, and Eddie sighed, hopping up and pressing a kiss to her forehead that she protested.

"You're gonna get infected," she grumbled. Eddie just shrugged, more firmly wrapping her up in her blankets.

"Did you take anything?"

"Grabbed some cold medicine from the pharmacy that's next to the office," she said, still covering her mouth. Exhaling a couple of rough coughs into the fabric. "Probably should've eaten something, but nothing sounds good."

Her sentences were choppy and slurred, which was how Eddie knew that this was serious. Having majored in English at BU, Chrissy's articulation refined to a fucking knife's point over the years. Ready to stab anyone who looked at her with a modicum of doubt when she explained what she did for a living.

His poor little Supervising Editor.

"Alright," Eddie said, hopping to his feet and pressing another kiss to her crown – this one not quite as protested as the first – before he rounded the couch to collect the grocery haul he'd bought that was entirely inadequate for a sick Chrissy. "Lemme get some water in the kettle, yeah? I'll make you some ginger tea and run to the bodega for soup supplies."

"Love, really, I'm fine––"

"Don't you I'm fine me, Cunningham," he called from the kitchen. Even though her last name had been Munson for damn near five years now. He loved the dopey little smile she still got when he reprimanded her with her maiden name. The eye roll. The huff of, That's Munson to you, Mister.

The huff never came this time. She was too tired to argue, he knew.

He started some prep work for what they had on hand while the water heated up. Mincing up a metric fuckton of garlic, grabbing some chicken breast from the fridge, grating most of a knob of ginger. They had some frozen chicken wing tips, but Eddie wasn't sure he had the time or patience to make broth from scratch. He mentally added store bought shit to his list, along with spinach and carrots.

Once her tea was ready, Eddie departed after stealing another kiss – this one to her cheek, which she yelled at him for as well as she was able and which he laughed at when her voice broke.

Another forty-five minutes later, after hauling ass to the store and back, Eddie had soup simmering on the stove, orange juice in the fridge, and three other types of medicine lined up along the coffee table to be taken after she'd eaten.

"I should go to the bedroom," Chrissy sighed as Eddie exchanged her empty mug of tea for a glass of juice. "Give you veg space so I don't get you sick."

Eddie scoffed. He'd grabbed The Two Towers from their nightstand, carefully depositing it on the arm of the couch before gently easing Chrissy's juice from her hands. He crouched down in front of her, leveling her with as withering a stare as he could muster around the worry he could feel lining his face.

"What kind of husband do you think I am, sweetness? To abandon his queen in her most desperate times of need?" She rolled her eyes, cheeks turned up in a slight smile. Eddie grinned, reaching up to pinch her cheek. Broadening her smile as much as she was able. "My fair lady needs her noble knight's assistance now more than ever! I ain't just gonna abandon you to squalor, baby. You know better than that."

She made a little noise of distress, and Eddie knew it was because she was terrified of getting him sick. Even though he played backup to Jeff, fucking his vocals could fuck the whole timeline for their next album.

He couldn't have given less of a fuck.

Tucking the blanket more firmly around her, Eddie carefully wedged his arms under her slight body, hoisting her up with a cracked little squeal from her raw throat before settling himself lengthwise on the couch, Chrissy in his lap.

"Eddie––"

"Shh, baby," he said, grabbing the book behind him and opening up to the bookmark. Picking up where they'd left off the last time he lulled her to sleep, just the night before, when she'd still been perfectly healthy. Harboring this bit of sick down deep enough that her body was still attempting to fight it off.

His voice, she'd told him once, was her favorite lullaby.

"So it was," he began to read, "that in the light of a fair morning, King Theoden and Gandalf the White Rider met again on green grass beside the Deeping-stream."

An hour later, Chrissy was out like a light. Breathing deeply through her mouth, with a little dribble of drool spilling onto his shirt and making him chuckle. He leaned down, kissing her hair and brushing it back over her ear.

"My poor little peach," he murmured, pressing the words into her scalp. The scent of ginger and garlic wafted through the air, and Eddie knew he should extricate himself from her embrace. Slip into the kitchen and turn the stove off.

But Chrissy let out this scratchy little snore, and Eddie figured he could give her another half hour.

"Love you, sweet," he said. And by the way she hummed in her slumber, snuggling even closer against his chest until her ear was pressed right up against her heart, Eddie thought, fuck, maybe she'd heard him.

(inspo ask)

#hellcheer #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #stranger things #chrissy x eddie #my writing #hellcheer drabble #sickness #I feel it tho bc I've been battling a stupid cold all week #where the heck is my Eddie to make me soup and cuddle me?#cunninghamchrissie

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skyeslittlecorner · 9 months

Text

Promised Land - Andrealphus

You know what, I'm sorry. It was supposed to be three times shorter. I swear. My hand slipped. I have no idea how it got so big. No proofreading, plus I'm sure there will be some awkwardness because English is not my native language. SFW.

I wish everyone who is brave enough to read it to have a nice time!

Words: ~5365

Part one summary: You, the reader, managed to talk to Andrea through the game. He realized that apart from the MC, there was someone behind the screen.

Other parts: On the other side | Promised Land | Point to point | Love is blind (18+)

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

First, you were fired from a job. Then you tripped on a walker, cracked the head, and ended up in the hospital. But the worst of it all was that you destroyed your phone. Everything was gone. With barely enough savings to pay your rent, you couldn't afford a new one. Drunk with desperation, you even asked a friend to install the game on her phone just to see if the account was saved. Account - yes. But what you valued most is gone.

Andrealphus didn't hear you.

You couldn't even tell anyone about it. Crazy, that's what they'd say. They thought work was your biggest worry, but it was only almost biggest. For two weeks, the longing had been so overwhelming that you could do nothing but cry into your pillow. Stupid? Maybe. Stupid was that you lost him through your own fault and in such a simple way. You would love to get rid of these feelings. The problem was that you couldn't.

The Promised Land was a three-hour drive from the city and at first glance looked like a combination of Disneyland and a shamanic capital. All you could see were the outlines of high roller coasters, a barrel, and other strange death apparatuses that you had only agreed to visit to ease your’s friend remorse. She suddenly realized that she had been ignoring you because of her new boyfriend and wanted to make it up to you. At first, you were excited. Then it turned out that all three of you were going. Apparently, her car broke down. What a sad coincidence, her boyfriend’s car remains.

Watching the amusement park from the backseat of the SUV, Liminal Land came to your mind. You have always been interested in AR. Parallel worlds, virtual reality, interconnections, such nonsense. Nonsense… That's probably why you had the impression for a few weeks that the guy from the game talked with you. Maybe it was all a dream? You must have imagined it out while you were having a bad time, drinking coffee with energy drinks, trying to keep up with work that you got fired anyway. A defensive reaction of the brain or something.

And yet you still felt like you had lost somebody close.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

It was exactly as you thought. The couple in love disappeared from sight about half an hour after buying tickets and walking through the gate. They probably followed the cashier's advice and visited Stargrazer, a large building that reminded you of the Avisos casino. Apparently you got tokens there. They could be exchanged for prizes, rides, and more. You preferred to go to the other attractions first so as not to run into the lovebirds. Tall garden clocks that resembled lamps showed ten o'clock. Armed with a VIP pass, you promised yourself to have fun, at least for today. Despite this, you involuntarily returned your hand to your purse to touch the damaged phone. Somehow it felt warm. That hit on the head must have been really hard to still have effects.

After all, throwing yourself into the attractions and completing half of them, ending with three rounds of a sick water rollercoaster in a row… was not the best idea. It was almost lunchtime. Or at least it should be, because you were getting hungry even though the time on the watches had barely moved. That was weird. You could clearly see the hands moving, but when you looked away and returned, it showed ten o'clock again.

To calm your stomach, you sat on a bench and looked at the people around you. They also were weird, but positively weird. Freaks of all designs and colors, cosplayers, but also amateurs. Somewhere you saw One Piece and Dragon Ball, and now crossdressed Elsa in a fur cape was talking to a biblically accurate angel. They moved away towards the administration, probably belonged to the staff. Extraordinary craftsmanship.

The park was mostly for adults, but a lot of them were with children. Too bad, they could have left them in the mini-park that was apparently set aside somewhere at the other end of the place. Their running only made you more dizzy. The smell of pizza from the stand next door didn't help either.

Evacuating yourself from all the stimuli, you stood in front of a large block, which was apparently the biggest attraction. Stargrazer was a gigantic, purple and blue structure that looked like a club from the outside. Through the arch with neon lights in the shapes of comets and planets, dozens of people entered the huge hall. The whole place was enormous. There seemed to be no walls or even a ceiling. People on other levels walked on balconies, and at the top - on a dark glass surface that lit up with every step, making the "ceiling" look like a sky with shining stars. Dozens of stands were scattered on the left and right. People occupied lanes that looked like some kind of bowling pins, glass mini-mazes, and slot machines. Walking through the middle, you moved further and further away from the sunlight, guided by the dim light of LED lights and games that you had never really seen in your life. Everyone seemed to know the rules.

Something crashed into you with full force.

"I'm sorry, ma'am!"

"It’s okay…"

A short teenager gave you an apologetic smile and ran away, holding a white thistle in his hands. It looked like a many-pointed star or a sharp spike. Many people won the same objects. When unfolded, they resembled stars and gave off light, but they could be twisted, folded into a cube the size of a thumb, and placed in a pocket. They appeared to be tokens that could be redeemed for prizes. When you looked behind the boy, you saw him lining up at the checkout at the entrance.

"Are you sure everything is fine?"

This time, the little girl stood in front of you, watching intently. She had fair skin and golden hair, and with blue eyes she looked like an angel. There was a badge on her chest. It resembled employee ID badges, but was clearly written in a child's handwriting: "Hi! My name is Mia and I work here with dad!"

It seemed that her parent took her to work here often enough that she felt the need to help customers herself, because she started explaining the rules of the games. She was nicer company than you thought, as you slowly walked deeper and deeper into the building. You weren't having much luck with games and didn't care about tokens, just wanted to try out the games. When the star finally rolled out of the slot, you turned to Mia.

"It's for you." You gave her a star.

"For me…"

She looked shocked, turned the item over in her hands like a treasure. You didn't know she would be so happy; with VIP pass you didn't need tokens anyway, just came to calm down a bit. Despite the multitude of people, the place seemed calmer and the voices were muffled. Maybe it was some space special effects.

As you were walking to the next stand, the explosion blew you off your feet.

Everything happened at once. Thrown against the wall like a rag doll, you felt every part of the body being torn apart by pain. You've gone deaf. Breathless. Shards of glass fell from the sky like rain, beautifully shining, deadly raindrops. Conscious enough to cover your eyes, you raised hands. The skin was cut by sharp edges.

The ringing in the ears turned into a wailing alarm. You felt torn apart, but all your limbs were in place. Not everyone was so lucky. Dozens of people, scattered on the floor and against the walls, lay motionless. Some bloody. Not everything was visible through the thick layer of dust. Also, images reached your eyes, but not mind. What happened?

You don't know if it was a second or an hour before you regained some sort of consciousness. To your left, a pair of men weren't getting up, but to your right, a girl who stood next to you earlier was clinging and shaking. Her eyes were as big as cup saucers, and blood and tears were mixing on a dainty face.

"Hey, your head. This looks bad." You heard your own voice, although you still felt unreal, as if everything around you didn't exist. Ultra-real VR. Especially the pain.

She flinched as you took the torn piece of her shirt and tied it around her temple.

"Th-these…are they terrorists?" She uttered, sobbing.

You looked around. The explosion threw you behind the games, away from the center of the hall. She had a better view, as two gaming machines fell in front of you, effectively blocking the view. When you looked out from behind them, sure enough, there were some people walking around… with guns. White uniforms and fur coats. They seemed to be combing the gigantic place starting from the other end. Not many of them, but would there be many terrorists? They chased away the rest of the people, took the conscious ones inside the destroyed building, and the unconscious ones…

You didn't want to see this. You didn't want to end up like that, either. Until they haven't found you, you had a chance. Whoever it was had bad intentions.

"Let's go." As you sat up, dizziness hit you, but luckily the legs worked. It's worse with the hands. The left one you covered yourself with was bleeding so profusely that all your clothes on your chest and stomach were red. Luckily, the blood was only leaking lazily now, not as heavily, but you still felt sick watching it.

The girl wasn't lucky either. Her leg was bent at an odd angle, at best it was broken. She whimpered as you helped her up. Someone turned off the alarm. Now the only sounds were the shifting of rubble. The soldiers were unnaturally quiet, as if they did not need words to communicate. It scared you. Despite everything, Mia had more courage, she bit her lip to keep quiet.

There were many alcoves with doors along the wall, and every other one had an "exit" sign above it. Fire exits. In some, you could hear the sound of sprinklers firing through the thick smoke following the explosion. The air was hard to breathe. You glided slowly, leaning against the wall, helping the girl bounce forward. Every step took forever. Only the adrenaline in the veins kept you running.

Strange soldiers were getting closer. As you trudged through the alley, you could hear machines moving nearby. Cleaned rubble. Whistle of the blade that will stay with you forever. You had two final turns to get out of the trap when someone ran right into you.

"R-run!" A distressed woman in bloody clothes squealed. She grabbed your hand. You screamed in pain and jumped back. "There's their boss over there! He kills! He’ll kill you!"

She ran further down the corridor. Your hand, torn by the glass and moved by her, burst out with a fresh dose of blood. Pain was awful. Black spots danced before the eyes, if only you could take a breath… The little girl leaning on your shoulder began to sob. It brought you back to life. The strange woman run again, and must have bumped into the soldiers because you heard her scream.

Boss. Angelic boss. The best options you could think of were immediate death from Gabriel's scythe. As for the others, maybe Michael would take pity and cut your head off quickly. Raphael… Well… Fortunately, there was no time to think about it.

In front of you was a bend in the hall and on your left was the door to the bathroom. You pressed the doorknob, they gave way. The intact, white room smelling of lavender, that would have been completely normal half an hour ago, looked like science fiction when you were surrounded by chaos and destruction. Behind a series of sinks and mirrors, the only ones that were cracked, there was a second door leading to an outside corridor. You hid in one of the cabins.

"Listen." You crawled together and helped her lean against the wall. "I'll check if it's still safe and come get you, okay? This "boss" doesn’t sound good."

You had no other choice, and you both knew it.

"But promise you'll come back." The little one tried to hold on, but it didn't work out well. "Promise…"

"I swear."

You felt sorry for her. Alone. Little. She didn't even have a way to escape with her crushed leg. But if there really was another danger ahead of you, you wouldn't stand a chance anyway. You didn't even have a place to hide and wait, because the storage compartment in the cabin where you left Mia was too small for the two of you.

But why were the Seraphim here? Didn't they have better things to do? You already guessed why the clocks weren't working. It is a space like the "New Heaven" in Gehenna created by the Cherubim. Here, a lot of innocent people were caught in angelic inner games.

Carefully, you poked your head out. The last corridor left to exit was long and wide. Debris was falling from the stairwells at regular intervals, but it was possible to walk through them. Two people ran down and towards the exit, or at least they tried to, before someone got in their way.

Now you knew the woman wasn't lying, and realized what the strange fur coats were. It's not fur. They're feathers. A chill ran down your spine because what you saw before the eyes was unreal. A tall man stood with his back to you, with the wing and a halo. With a shining scythe, he blocked the path of two terrified people.

You knew this man. Angel’s boss, she said? You felt a stupid urge to laugh out loud, along with a stone that suddenly weighed heavily on your heart.

"Wait!"

The scream left your mouth before any thought even reached the brain. The hand that was preparing to strike froze in the air, and you had the impression that you felt a gust of air that was supposed to accompany the slash. Regret hit you faster than a train. Legs felt like running away. It was a mistake. Now this scythe will be aimed at you. But he just turned around and stared blankly at you.

Now that he turned around, you had a clear view of all the details. A black suit, perfectly fitted to a muscular body. A long braid decorated with bloody feathers and powerful horns, curled like a ram's and made of black segments like dragon scales. A handsome, long face and muddy eyes, decorated with scars. Black leather gloves on his hands that held the huge weapon as easily as a child's toy. And a luminous scythe. Which was now aiming for your throat.

"Who are you?"

"I…" Is it possible? Does he remember? Were your conversations even yours, or was it really AI? You almost stopped breathing, squinting.

"Uh… I'm… I'm human. You wouldn't hurt a human. Right?"

If your conversations weren't real, your name would do him no good. But if it was the real Andrealphus, the one you knew, the one you love, he wouldn't have hurt an innocent man. But… why was he targeting those people, then?

He flinched when he heard your voice.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came with friends…"

"No. What are you doing here? My…" He trailed off. "It's not safe. You have to get out of here."

Oh, that was all you wanted right now. But the chaos in your head didn't allow you to think clearly. After all, about three minutes ago you were the victim of a terrorist attack, and now you were standing in front of a fictional guy you were in love with. Even separately this is too much!

"A strange woman ran… into me and said, well… That you are the boss of the angels. And you murder people."

"Humans? You're the first human I've ever met. As for the other part…" The grip on the scythe style tightened.

"Those two you were aiming at also were."

He frowned and tilted his head as if to look over his shoulder. Of course, they were no longer there, but you were sure you didn't see any wings on them, unlike the soldiers in the main hall.

"They had an angelic aura about them."

Any further discussion had to wait because you heard footsteps in the hall. He was redy to fight, but you were not. You dragged him into the bathroom.

"They were humans. There's something wrong with this place. Maybe he's irradiating us or something."

"If so, I should also see you."

Your voices turned to whispers as footsteps passed down the hall. You knew he could ‘see’ the glow of the outlines of angels, but not ordinary humans or devils. He was relying on other senses and sensations you didn't understand. It didn't fully replace sight, but it helped, especially in hunting.

"I'll show you another human. We'll see then, okay?"

You got back to Mia faster than you thought. She was happy to see you, but when she saw Andrealphus she screamed and pushed herself deeper into the corner. He didn't look happy either.

"Hello, little one."

Andrea knelt down next to the girl. Even if he looked confused, his voice was firm and gentle. He was really talking to the child. The girl moved away and covered her eyes with her hand as if to defend herself.

"Your friend says you have no wings. Is it true?"

"Ye…yes."

"I’m blind. Let me feel it."

He warned before extending his hand. His hand wandered over her shoulder, but all he found was air and a cold wall. He frowned.

"I told you, she’s not an… what are you doing!" You shouted, seeing how he takes out small pistol from under his jacked. You froze, but he just placed the gun on the girl's lap. His past came to your mind; you wondered if he thought about what would happen if he had a gun when he met Rafael as a little boy. In his own way, it seemd that he was trying to protect another child from this fate. Save from helplessness.

You felt a twist of pain in your stomach. He trusted you. He must have remembered you. Why else would he believe you enough to give the creature he thought was an angel a weapon?

"You have to have something to defend yourself with." He stood up and turned towards you. "Let's go."

"We?" You glanced towards the door. "I will be a burden. Let me sneak out the back door."

"The building is fully guarded, you are safest with me. Besides, you got your eyes intact. Since the aura is crazy here, I don't want to hurt anyone innocent."

Andrea placed the scythe on his shoulder. A hand extended towards you, a serious look on a scarred face.

"Please, be my sight. Guide me."

Your heart skipped a beat. Even your vision went dark, although maybe it was the result of blood loss. Never mind. You accepted his hand. It was rough and strong, you could feel the tiny scars under your fingers; exactly how you imagined a soldier's hand. He smiled so softly that your legs went weak beneath you. He caught you in half before you fell.

Okay, maybe it was the blood loss after all.

You slowly straightened up and leaned against your broad chest, taking a few deep breaths. Wounds didn't hurt as much anymore, but slowly you slowly lose feeling in your hand. It just went limp. You didn't even have time to admire his warmth, his scent, because your stupid body refused to obey.

"You're bleeding."

"Don't worry… I'll be fine. It's already better." You tried to sound like everything was alright. Maybe not well enough for him to move away, but enough for him not to worry. Judging by his face, it didn't work. His grip on your waist tightened.

"I would take you to Nilfheim, but those damn portals stopped working…" He muttered to himself.

You didn't expect to hear such a note in his voice. Care? Anxiety? This was unlike the stoic devil you knew. And if the portals weren't working…

"How did you get here then?"

"We have other ways. Your phone."

"But it's ruined."

"It didn't matter. It previously acted as an interdimensional mirror, so I could have used it as a reference."

That was enough revelation for you. Whatever happened, you just wanted to rest. With Andrea, of course.

"Please. Let's just get out of here."

You decided it would be better to go through the main hall. If you don't manage to sneak by sideways, it will be easier for Andrealphus, with his huge scythe, to fight in a larger area. That's why you left Mia too. He felt her just like the angels. Only recognizing their aura, he couldn't distinguish most of them; he would have killed her by pure accident, aiming at someone else. You preferred to avoid it.

Leaning on the devil, letting him hold you by your waist, you limped into the main hall. Most of the angels had already dispersed, the dust had settled, only human bodies and dirty blood stains were lying here and there. Seeing this, your nausea only increased. A few surviving soldiers were wandering among the machines, picking something up from among the rubble. You saw sparkles in their hands. Were they star tokens?

Before you could think twice, you felt a tug on your waist. Andrea stopped. The scythe was aimed at the man in front of you.

"I can?"

He asked politely, as if he wanted to pull out a chair in front of you rather than waiting for permission to murder. A lump stuck in your throat. The man did indeed have white wings and a halo, but instead of a soldier’s uniform he wore a blue one. You recognized that long blond hair; you've seen him before.

"It's… someone from the staff, I guess."

"Do not kill me!" He begged. "I can't do anything to you, I was just… looking…"

He tried to move away, but Andrea wrapped his scythe around the man like an arm. The weapon touched the wings. Demon felt it and growled throatily.

There was a screech behind you.

"Leave him!"

Another problem. You glanced behind; Mia, propped up on a broom, had to limp quietly tracing you. She aimed the small gun at Andrea's back. Would the bullet hurt him? You did not know. But his face hardened. The angels that had been roaming around the building heard you and began to gather around. In a wide semicircle, with their weapons drawn, they observed the horned intruder.

Andrealphus was silent. Waited. He could have killed them. He would do it easily, without breaking a sweat; but still, something held him back. You guessed what it was about. When he gave the girl the gun earlier, he didn't expect it to be pointed at him.

In a scene he couldn't get out of his mind, he became the one he hated the most.

"You're not like him." You whispered and placed your hand on his hand where he held the scythe.

He slowly moved her away from the man. Mia walked past you and threw herself into her father's arms. This didn't solve the problem; if he didn't want to kill them, he couldn't fight. Having to take care of you on top of that, his hands were tied.

The number of angels only increased. More and more of them came, crawling through the rubble, appearing on balconies as if waiting for the first move. They surrounded you, but it could just as easily have been the flies surrounding the dragon. Lowest angels and a devilish noble. He would have chopped them to pieces if it weren't for his only weakness - and that weakness was you.

You felt worse and worse, but a crazy idea came to your head.

"Trust me." You asked so quietly that even you didn't hear your words, but you hoped he did, and pushed him away. "Finally! I brought him as Raphael ordered. Do with him whatever you want now! Dad, let’s come out."

Everyone was moved by this name. Just as you thought. You couldn't read anything on Andrea's face, and you didn't want to because you felt like a traitor. The angels took your shout as an order. They attacked straight ahead. If this was a trap for the noble set by the Seraphin, they must have managed to kill him, right?

Mia's father, whom you bumped into, helped you walk. He supported both you and his daughter as you walked to the exit. Did you feel safe? No. But the angels evaded you. They must have assumed that, like Mia, you were half-angel. They parted as you walked on soft legs… and a moment later wet sounds of blood splashing and flesh being torn apart filled the entire hall. Andrea was chopping up angels. Yes, that's him. It must be him. Not the other way around.

You have no idea how you got out of the building, but when you felt the fresh air, you fell to your knees. You were overwhelmed by helplessness and pain. The earth was swirling, full of black spots. It's happened before, you could walk. You just needed a moment to gather your strength. And probably you would have made it if you hadn't seen movement out of the corner of your eye. Hand and stone. Your head erupted in pain before you passed out.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

When you opened your eyes again, the light blinded you. White ceiling, walls a sickly blue shade that looked as if someone had smeared soap on them instead of paint. The smell of cleaning products and medicines. Your stomach lurched. You knew this place so well, but it was two weeks ago. After all, so much has happened since the accident. After all… Andrea.

You felt nauseous, looking around the room with your heart in your throat; drip, bedside table with glass full of water, large window letting in the evening light. Behind the mirror in the corridor stood a couple of people, whose voices could be heard through the door ajar. They had an argument. You groaned, rubbing your aching head. Collecting thoughts was so hard.

It couldn't all have been a dream. His voice. His touch. You remembered it too clearly. Panic was rising in your chest, especially when you heard a sleepy voice from the hall. Words like 'coma', 'memory impairment' and 'you have to be understanding' brought tears to your eyes. Whole body hurt. The greatest pain spread slowly through the chest, stabbing and burning, as if someone had inserted a hot blade and was circling in a open wound.

People are dying. Their brain, in an act of self-defense, can invent their entire life in a split second. Some woke up in the hospital thinking they had a wife and children, only to find out they hadn't finished school yet. Was this the case? Did you make this all up? You were on the verge of life anyway, so your stupid brain decided to trick you and give you hope? Hot tears filled your eyes. How could you be so stupid? Why did you believe?

Before you burst into tears, a few more words came through.

"She keeps waking up and falling asleep… Is there any point in going in there?"

"Leave it. I doubt she heard anything."

Your friend and her boyfriend. Someone responded with a snort, the voices fading. Or maybe it was the throbbing pain that swirled your head like a blender. You cried silently. One of the silhouettes outside the window straightened up as if paralyzed and shot towards the door.

You didn't know if your brain was playing tricks on you or if you were completely crazy, when he appeared in the doorway.

This scarred, yet handsome face and long red braid, you’d recognize them even at the end of the world. He looked uncertain. As if he himself was suffering. In casual clothes, simple jeans and blue checkered shirt, he looked so normal you nearly believed that it’s just a human resembling him. But despite the lack of a halo and wings, his head was decorated with majestic, dark horns.

"You liar…"

Even his voice matched perfectly. Shock drew back the tears. Is it…?

You didn't have time to think. In the current state, thinking wasn't your strongest trait anyway. He sat down next to you, slender fingers first landing on your shoulder and then moved to your face.

"You awful, dishonest, intelligent woman. If I knew…"

You could barely feel the gentle touches of fingertips. Despite terrible words, he was so careful, as if he were examining a work of art and not your broken skin. Although, his smile made you feel like a masterpiece. Before you could utter a greeting, he found your mouth, and not with fingers. The touch of hot lips was even more tender and ticklish than his palms. Shaky breath leave his lips, before you could hear a faint whisper.

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t want, if… If I had known…"

No. This was not something you expected to hear. Sealing those sweet lips with yours, you purred.

"Are you sorry for kissing me or for saving my life?"

"For risking it in the first place!"

"You’re a devil. I’d be disappointed if you wouldn’t."

You chuckled, seeing him frowning, as if he wanted to scold you but couldn’t. It was a mistake. A new dull pain erupted in your wounded head. Did it matter? The pain in a chest suddenly subsided. Life started to make more sense. Even the color on the walls stopped being soapy and became a beautiful blue.

"How did I get here?"

"This… angel." He spat the word like it was the worst insult. "He hit you, patched you up, and left you in a back alley. He said he couldn't take you with him, and you'd be safer unconscious. I found you not much later. Human services arrived, and I convinced them to deal with you first. And they better do it right."

"What happened to him? With Mia?"

"She’s safe. And him… He didn’t have to hit you, but he did. I didn’t have to let him live…" He felt your tense expression and tilted his head. "But I did."

You sighed with relief. It was a step in a good direction.

"Although without a hand that hit you."

…well, quite a small step. You didn't want to dwell on it, you can do the next steps together. In less intense circumstances. Since the portals weren't working…

"I now know why I felt angels everywhere."

"Why?"

"They really weren't disguised. Unable to get rid of their aura around people, they used tokens, those stars, to make all the humans resemble their aura. Without the tokens, I couldn’t see you. It's even better. I don't want to see you if it means you'll look like an enemy. You are wonderful in the way you laugh, move, think. I'm glad I know you deeper than just your outer shell." He kept playing and stroking gently your face. "Although I'm sure you would shine not deadly, but beautifully."

You held his hand, you heard his voice. Time passed, and you didn't have the strength to speak, but he still kept you company. You could listen and listen. With your eyes closed, you hugged the hand cupping your face and felt like you could stay like that forever. It was worth being neatly torn apart to finally be able to meet him. For the first time, you didn't feel longing. Only warmth.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb andrealphus #I don't know if I should have posted it #sends kisses to the one person who will like it

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cinnamonest · 1 year

Note

Do you ever plan on writing for kazuha and his snake girl cuz that pair literally stole my heart😞

YES omg I love her, our danger noodle, our nope rope, scaled and slithery babygirl

EDIT: forgot to include the link! This is a follow-up to Kazuha's entry in [this post]

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You don't run away.

Eventually, Kazuha felt guilty enough to finally summon the strength to do what he viewed as the right thing — let you out of the cage he had you in, give you the opportunity to walk away and go back into the wilderness. It'll hurt his heart, but he knows you'll most likely run, it's just your nature...

But you don't. You scurry out of the cage, sure, but you don't go running off. You instead shuffle over to him, wrapping your arms around him for comfort... and even after some more time passes, you still stay. And when he starts to walk, you follow. Your face seems nervous and uneasy, but you have no intentions of leaving his side.

It feels good, of course, it's a huge relief and it warms him heart... at the same time, though, he's basically made a wild creature dependent on him, and isn't that usually considered... bad? After all, if someone took an actual, normal wild animal out of nature to be a pet, people would find it distasteful, inhumane, cruel even. They'd say something about how such a creature should be home in the wild where it belongs, how it wasn't made to be kept like this.

And technically, a lot of nations have legislation against taking hybrids out of the wild if they're certain species... so he's probably violating ethics and the law. That's... well, any negative feelings he has on the matter are overridden when you bump your head against him affectionately.

No, those thoughts he was having before are wrong. You want to be with him. He saved you. You're happy. So why should he feel bad? He's doing a good thing.

From that point forward, at least he can rid himself of the guilt of feeling like he was forcing you to be with him, so, nothing left to do at that point but continue on his journey as usual, now with you in tow. He can't cover as much ground as he used to per day, as you walk a bit slower and get tired rather quickly, but... well, that's okay. You're worth it.

There's a few glaring issues with bringing you into any public space, though. For starters, inability to speak, and lack of understanding of certain conventions of normalcy that might cause you to draw attention to yourself. Moreover, now that he's thought over the legal complications, as there's hefty penalties for taking certain creatures out of the wild, he realizes he can't just go get those venom glands removed, he'd be reported, and worst of all, you'd be taken away. He'll have to just take you around where he goes and hope for the best.

But even if he can keep you under control, and make it appear that you're just quiet and shy, there's one other issue that's not dangerous or drastic, very simple and harmless in fact, but a dead giveaway nonetheless: several times per minute, your long, thin, forked tongue flickers out of your mouth. You do it in your sleep even, he would know, he's been woken up by it hitting his face before. It's only for a split second, and if it were only once, it might go unnoticed, but you do it frequently enough that someone would surely notice it very quickly. Also, there's the possibility of you yawning or otherwise opening your mouth wide while surrounded by people, and those fangs would absolutely draw immediate attention.

While he managed to get you to wear a simple cloak, getting your mouth covered is much more of a struggle. He tried a few different means of covering your mouth, letting you wear his scarf and wrapping it over the lower part of your face to see if you'd let it stay... but sure enough, after a moment, you stretched your neck and shook your head a bit to make the fabric fall down onto your collarbones, and immediately proceeded to flick your tongue out into the air. He tried buying one of those masks that covers the lower face and has straps behind each ear, but it seemed to put you in panic as you whimpered and tugged at it, and he couldn't bring himself to put you through any distress.

There was already even one time you two encountered travelers on the road, and it actually seemed to be going very well — he explained your silence with a she's not used to strangers, sorry — right up until you took a few steps towards the other human and, without hesitation, flicked your flat, forked tongue out onto their skin, to better identify the strange creature.

Ah, um, sorry, that's — it's a cultural thing, and, and ah, a-anyway, sorry, we'll be going now—

For whatever reason, your human seemed to be in a hurry to leave that interaction, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you away.

So, he's at an impasse when it comes to how to take care of his traveling needs -- he usually goes into towns every few days or so to get necessities to last until he reaches the next town. He can't just tell you to be quiet and not do anything; you may understand some basic words now, but not nearly enough to communicate complex commands.

In the end, he has to just find a secluded spot, break out and construct the collapsible cage, and leave you in it for a short time. It's very risky, and he knows that, so he's always rushing to get only the absolute bare necessities before hurrying back. He doesn't want to leave you just tied to a post or something again, that could leave you in danger if a predator found you, whereas at least a cage provides a barrier.

The first few times, you flailed and whined. He feels awful, really. I know, I know... I'm really sorry... I'll be back soon, I promise... it's okay... he buys bigger quantities so he won't need to go into town as often, tries to hunt more food, but still, he can't just live off the wilderness indefinitely.

After a while, you start to get nervous every time you come near a human town, you whimper and cling to him as if begging not to be put in the cage... it hurts his heart, too much to bear. So he has no choice — he drags you through the town, keeping you very very close with a very tight grip. You look nervous, but wildly curious, turning your head all different directions. But thankfully, the anxiety you appear to have does mean you don't leave his side. You do still curiously lean over and taste — or, wait, isn't it technically smell...? Taste and smell? Is it both at the same time? — various humans and objects with your tongue. Thankfully it doesn't get too noticed, and he just talks his way out of it — from a shelter, yes, she can't talk... what breed? Ah, well that's... the pet kind...?

Needless to say, he tries to get in and out very fast, and preferably have to speak to as few people as possible. So far there have been no major incidents, save for that one time he let go of your wrist just for a split second to grab something, turned around and panicked when you were gone, only to find you a few yards away at a produce market, looming with wide eyes over a pen full of bird eggs... thankfully he was there in an instant to grab you, lest the otherwise inevitable have happened.

On your travels, though, you actually adjust alright. At first, you were so sniffly and scared when he took you away, but it's soon overridden by awe and wonder and curiosity of the world around you, and adjusting to the places you go. Which he does have to be careful about -- obviously, northern regions are no longer an option for travel without some sort of precaution, you'd freeze fast.

Before, you were in your ideal climate and habitat, but he quickly learns through your travels that you're incredibly sensitive to changes in temperature and humidity. When you're in hot environments, though, you like to lay out in the sun.

One time when you were traversing some desert, he woke up one day to immediate panic at your absence, and ran out of the cave you'd been in, only to find you right outside the entrance, sprawled out on a rock with a content smile, basking in the sun, occasionally turning yourself over like a rotisserie to get sunlight on all your scale patches. Limbs sprawled out, presumably not instinctively knowing what else to do with them, given being half-brained of a creature with no appendages to speak of. You open your eyes and turning your head when he calls out that one word you've gotten used to.

Yes, you do, as of now, respond to that one word he says whenever addressing you, after some conditioning. It just came to him one day, very simple and short, as well as generic and common, and admittedly uncreative. He decided a one-syllable name would be easiest for you to recognize. It's more of a "cute pet name" that you would give an animal but not an actual human, but it's not like you understand what it means. Regardless, if he says it, you perk up and come over to him, so you seem to understand the word's intention and purpose.

But back to regarding the climate, he has to watch out for you at night, and be mindful of the temperature changes that occur in some regions. You're visibly miserable in the cold, start shivering and whimpering even in merely cool temperatures, and gradually become lethargic and unmoving.

The bigger problem is that warm blankets and clothes don't help. As a cold-blooded animal, your body doesn't exude heat, whereas for a human, blankets and clothes trap in the heat that the body creates. For you, clothes and blankets can serve as a barrier from cold winds, but not much else. This does not combine well with the fact that you'll freeze much faster than a person would.

Instead, you require an external heat source, namely fires and his own body that, unlike yours, radiates heat. You do cling to him at night, curling up to his body's warmth... and he doesn't mind that at all. You're not so timid of the fire anymore either. He's even gotten you used to cooked people food, and not... you know, having to watch you butcher poor mice and rabbits and swallow them whole in a rather horrifying dislocation of your jawbone. He tries to block that imagery out of his memory.

...About that, though.

Perhaps in part wanting to get a better grasp on exactly what your venom does, as well as a general curiosity to learn more about you, Kazuha finds himself seeking additional information on your kind.

He manages to scrape enough money together to visit a large bookstore in the continental mainland, scouring around and narrowing down sections to find what he's looking for (all while keeping an eye on you, of course, who is bumbling around the bookshelves with a blank stare)... nonfiction... encyclopedias... science... zoology... there. Index of Teyvat Reptiles. Should be worth the payment, hopefully.

Later that day, once you're back outside, he spends an entire evening sorting through the pages. Table of Contents... Snakes... Land Snakes... by region...

It's split into a page-by-page section where each entry makes note of the species itself as well as characteristics of hybrids for that species.

With each page, he takes a over to you — sitting beside him, staring at the book with eyes wide with curiosity yet blank with complete lack of understanding — and compares it to the illustration for that species.

No, the color of those faint patches of scales on your neck and shoulders doesn't match... no, that one has yellow eyes with pupils, not solid eyes like yours... no, that one is a constrictor...

And then there's one entry towards the very back. The scale color matches your scales and hair. The eyes are like yours. The habitat range shown on the map is very small, but it's the exact place where he found you. It's a short entry without much detail, and it's listed as endangered. There's a brief description and a bullet-point "fun facts" section under the name.

It's actually very endearing, at first. It describes your behavior very accurately, the illustration aligns with what he can tell about you. It's nice to know exactly what you are.

On your end, you're not sure what about this rectangle is so fascinating to the human, but he's been staring at it and moving the little flap pieces for some time now. There's pretty pictures, so it does pique your interest, although you're quickly getting very tired as the sun sets further.

There's a lot of little markings on the paper, which humans use for information, you know that, seeing as your human has on multiple occasions stopped to look at those wooden signs at forks in the road that have similar markings. He seems focused on it, whatever it may be...

For whatever reason, though, he suddenly seems to get a bit stiff, his shoulders tense up. You turn your gaze over to his face, still with that soft smile he always has, but it starts to twitch as his eyes get wider. And wider. And he tenses more. And more. With each movement of his eyes. Must be interesting.

...

Currently holds the title of deadliest reptile known to science. If spotted in residential areas, report to law enforcement or animal control immediately and vacate surrounding premises within one mile; non-professionals should not attempt to approach, kill, or capture. Venom injection to death time for an average adult male is around 10 to 12 seconds.

Fun fact! While these snakes usually hunt small prey, one bite is capable of killing a Sumpter beast.

As soon as his eyes finish reading the last sentence, he turns his head as he feels you shift — your mouth slowly opens into a wide, prolonged yawn, the muscular flex of the action pulling back your upper lip and exposing your long, curved fangs. You make a soft, tired sound when your mouth closes, shuffling closer to him and resting your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes and letting yourself drift into a half-sleep state, mouth slack-jawed as you breathe onto his neck.

...But your human is twitching. He's tense, stiff. You can feel it, it's only slight, but noticeable nonetheless. This strikes you as odd — usually you're the one that shakes and shivers and trembles whenever the temperature drops to anything below warm, and you don't feel cold at all right now, given you're in a region that's warm even at night. Still, you feel an urge to help fix whatever is wrong.

He flinches a bit when you move. You lift your head up, looking into his eyes and make a soft, concerned sound. But then, you stand and take a few paces over to where all his things are set down, leaning down to rummage for a moment. Before he can follow you or call out to you, you turn back around, blanket in hand, and hurriedly make your way back over. You pull the corners of the blanket open wide and lower yourself back down, lifting and moving one foot so that you stand with one foot on each side of where he sits, and come to rest on his lap, straddling his waist, and pull the blanket back together behind him.

It takes a moment to register, but it clicks. You're doing the same thing he does for you when you're cold. Getting the blanket and holding you close to him. You even outstretch your arms and wrap them around his shoulders, rest your head on his shoulder again.

After a few moments, you pull back, looking at him and making a soft inquisitive sound, as if to check to confirm your efforts of comfort have succeeded.

And he smiles — a twitching smile, but nonetheless assuring. He raises a hand — a shaky, quivering hand — and pats the top of your head.

You soon fall asleep as usual, although he seems to stay awake for some time, more tense than usual. The tension lasts a few days — he tenses up more, flinches at touches, stiffens and swallows heavily and shudders at your touch sometimes, especially when you nuzzle your face against his neck. His hands always curl up into fists so tight they tremble.

But he never pushes you away. Never rejects how you lay your head on his lap, or on his shoulder. Sometimes his breathing gets very heavy when you move in certain ways, but he never rejects your presence. He doesn't quietly leave and run far away while you sleep, like you've sometimes feared. He stays right by your side. Day in, day out.

It's because of that, that he's right there by your side at a critical moment.

He's been mugged before, admittedly. A lot of bandits stake out rural roads, waiting for travelers to pass by that they can rob. In the past, though, he's been alone, and was easily able to blow them away and escape.

But as you pass through the desert, he can tell something is wrong. There's that sense of unease, like being watched. Could be a bandit, but also could be an animal or something... He's very on-guard, looking around, hand gripping his sword handle so it can be unsheathed within a second if needed.

There's a sound — but when he turns his head, it's just some of those desert foxes rummaging through a bush. He sighs, momentary spike in heart rate going down.

And then, you cry out, a sound of panic and distress.

And when he turns his head back, there's a man that has you in a hold from behind, arm around your chest, knife hovering above your neck. Your hands pull at his to no avail, your eyes are wide and quickly watering. You make high-pitched squealing sounds.

Give me everything you got on you. Don't try anything.

A-ah, yes, hang on. I'll get it, just... just don't...

His hands tremble, but he fetches the mora he has on him within an instant... and you, you don't grasp the nonverbal message to stay still the way a human would, you're thrashing and your feet are kicking and the man says in a gruff voice to hold still, you dumb bi—

But his words cut off.

Kazuha only hears it, as his eyes are focused on his hands pulling the coin pouch out of his pockets, but when it falls to silence, he freezes, slowly turning his head upward.

There's a moment of silence in which all present parties are frozen stiff, expressions ranging from the man's bewildered expression and your human's in wide-eyed shock — but you can't see either, both from how you've turned your head to the side, as well as how your own eyes are squeezed shut from the force of your jaw chomping down on the man's jugular.

A few more seconds pass. There's a dull thud when the knife hits the sand, and, after a moment, your own startled cry as you go down, the man's weight collapsing on top of you, sending you falling forward face-down onto the sand.

The bandit's body is heavy on top of yours, your body flat on your stomach. You wriggle and writhe, digging your elbows and clawing your fingers into the sand in an effort to crawl out from underneath it, but the composition of the sand means both actions merely cause your arms to sink into and flail in the sand that gives way to any pressure.

You turn your head up, sniffling with tears running down your face as you whimper pitifully.

Ka...Ka-thu-haa....

Your human is standing there, frozen and wide-eyed, but hearing your voice seems to make him snap out of the momentary stunned stupor.

He doesn't hesitate to hurry over to you. Drops down to his knees, pulls you out from underneath the body... gives said body a firm nudge with his foot that sends it tumbling down an incline of sand, obscuring it from immediate view from the road. You sniffle and wrap your arms and legs around him.

He's tense again. He's stiff, there's a slight tremble in his hands... but still, he doesn't move away. He keeps stroking your back up and down in a soothing motion, saying soft-spoken words you don't understand but can tell are meant to comfort you. He holds you there until you can walk again, and spends the whole night fretting over you, seemingly upset when you have a bruise from the incident.

From then on, you're very afraid of any human other than your own. They're scary creatures.

When you run into any on the road, you immediately cower behind him, grab onto him and squeeze your eyes shut, making soft distress noises. And when he drags you into towns — which you now protest, often whimpering all the while — you cling to him. He realizes you're looking to him to protect you, as if he's the deadlier force between you two, which you, for some reason, seem to believe to be the case.

As for you, in your mind, he is all that stands between you and certain death from a predatory human that would otherwise certainly get you and eat you if not for him. You've only killed rabbits and other rodents before, you don't think you could kill a human by yourself. You presume your human played a role in taking care of the bad human, probably stabbed him with the sword when you had your eyes shut. And he saved you from being crushed by the body, too. You would surely perish without his protection.

This is especially true as, you are now beginning to realize, humans are incredibly violent and powerful entities. You never noticed it before, but now you realize almost all the humans carry weapons on them. They are predatory creatures with innate natures so violent, that they attack so viciously and randomly as you have witnessed firsthand. Being a human living among other humans must be constantly frightening, they could attack at any second and you'd be done for. You've seen lots of predators, but they have to chase and repeatedly claw at prey, they don't have the same ability to stab and slash and kill so quickly, like humans with their tools.

But thankfully, you have a good one, and you trust your human will keep you safe. He's smart and strong and can talk to the other humans.

They're very scary. Unpredictable creatures that can choose to kill at a moment's notice, in an instant. It's a good thing there are no other such creatures capable of that, at least none that you can think of.

#snekgirl just BLEP's every stranger #also 'very powerful creature unaware of how powerful it is and is terrified of things it could easily annihilate' is such a blessed trope #especially adding the 'depending on less powerful creature to protect it because it genuinely believes it is less deadly than the other'#.hybrid #.kz

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beevean · 2 years

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While I like Steven Universe and all of it's misgivings (even though I feel some parts of it could be written a bit more realistically, like Kevin and Steven's weird animosity angle), I always felt that the Movie adding Spinel was kind of a lazy and thoughtless decision just to make Pink Diamond more cruddy than she really is. I get that as part of the regime that considered castes wouldn't treat their lower halves with such kindess as they would the parts they belonged to, but it just seemed rather out of character for Pink to discard Spinel and make her stay in her garden for so damn long, if we were to assume Pink actually did shatter her Pearl accidentally. If there was more instances of Pink Diamond being that volatile in the show and not a lot of heresay (The Crystal Gems talking about Pink like she's an spoilt brat, for example), I'd probably would buy it more. As it stands, there's too little information thanks to the nature of the show, and it really just feels like after the revelation of Pink and Rose Quartz being one and the same, they forgot to give more humanizing qualities to Rose, especially sinc she's such a trigger for Steven in Future.

Spinel, to me, only exists to make Pink Diamond more cruel than she actually is, and I don't actually like Spinel because of that.

I agree with you in part. I don't think Spinel exists only to make Pink look more cruel, but I think the show started villainizing her a little too much in general, culminating in Future.

The idea is sound on paper. Present a character as a paragon of unreachable goodness, to the point that Steven feels like everyone expects him to measure up to his dead mom, and then start showing the cracks in her shining armor: she looked down on the same humans she swore to protect, she bubbled Bismuth, she shattered Pink Diamond and is the reason Homeworld hates everything to do with Earth, she was Pink Diamond and lied to all of the CGs and forced Pearl to keep her secret. We see her at her best, and slowly we go backwards to see at her worst. The idea is that we're supposed to put together the events in reverse order and appreciate her character development... but in practice, it means that Steven just starts to resent Rose and have an attitude of "yes mom sucks, must be a day ending in Y"

Future is what irked me the most. The last time Rose is plot relevant, we discover that she literally traumatized Pink Pearl through a temper tantrum. The last time we see Rose, it's her painting stuffed inside Lion's mane, out of sight and out of mind. The last time we hear her name, Steven is angrily comparing Greg to her. Everyone has moved on from her, but not in a healthy way, but in an almost... cancelled way? The narrative put too much focus on her bad actions, and seemingly forgot that Pink did a massive work on herself to do the closest thing a Gem can to grow up.

Spinel is just one of those examples. As an antagonist, she works, she's out of her mind with emotional pain, Pink and not Rose hurt her (so Steven can't just tell her the truth, like she did with Jasper and the Diamonds), and her inner conflict is abandonment issues, which how in the hell is Steven supposed to solve? He doesn't, the Diamonds do. But... yeah. Since Rose isn't around to defend herself, a recurring theme in SU, we never learn why she never came back for Spinel. Maybe because the portals were broken! But the narrative just leaves us with "Pink was a jerk and abandoned her friend because she was annoying" (or because she was meant to replace Pink Pearl in a shallow, insulting way, but still).

This is a big flaw of trying to paint the complexities of a dead character. We have to rely on hearsay, different opinions, and so does the titular character. Steven decided that Rose was a liar, and that's where the show stopped. It sucks, because Rose is my favorite character in the show and back in the day I swear that she was more hated than the Diamonds :<

#steven universe #rose quartz #pink diamond

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hilarychuff · 4 months

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For a second, an ugly, mean, bitter part of him cranks the metallic screech of microphone feedback in his head to full volume. Because of course. Of course. Of course Chrissy Cunningham is literally lying here with him in his van, wearing her cheer uniform and tracing a finger across his chest — something he’s never even dared to let himself dream of — and he’s already lost her. Of course she’s headed straight from Wanna Be Golden Boy Carver into the arms of Steve The Hair Harrington. Not that that doesn’t make about a thousand times more sense. The idea that the queen would ever actually deign to fraternize with the freak is laughable, really. Which he probably should’ve known from the second she asked him if she could buy some drugs. This is a criminal transaction. Has been the whole time. God forbid he ever for a second take for granted that most people in this fucking small ass hick ass bitch ass town might ever look at him and be able to see something more than that degenerate Munson kid, more likely to end up in prison with his pop than he is to ever graduate high school, though if he ain’t beating the odds so far with those extra two years of trying — “Lunch with the queen of Hawkins High must be a hot ticket,” he spits sullenly. “Please don’t tell me Buckley landed that invite by trading a date with King Steve now that he’s back on the prowl. Not that that wouldn’t at least be a step up from your sentient eye booger of an ex. Is that why you dumped him? Why have some cheap imitation when you can go straight to the source, right?” Chrissy’s sitting up to glare down at him before the words have even hit his own ears, really. She crosses her arms over her chest, narrows her eyes and scrunches her nose and twists her little mouth up at him. “Steve and I are just friends,” she tells him in an insistent, impatient tone, hitting practically every word with emphasis. “Boys and girls can be just friends. You sound like Jason.” Eddie’s jaw drops. And then he jerks his whole body back to the floor of the van, flailing his limbs, grabbing for something invisible held tight to his neck. “Jesus Christ, Chrissy, should I go ahead and saw through my jugular or do you want to be the one to do it?” he asks, holding his pretend weapon out to her. Her own mouth falls open at that, but no words come out, so he brings his fists back towards his body, cutting harsh imaginary lines across his neck. He wrestles with the air and mimes spurting blood and pretends to die for another half minute before he’s done. “I think that’s the worst thing anyone's ever said to me,” he says as he flops back to catch his breath. “Wow. Point taken. Put me in my place, Cunningham, that was brutal.”

all the best people see you (all the best people know), chapter 9, a season 4 buckingham au

#buckingham #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson #platonic hellcheer #stranger things #stranger things fic #st fic #robin buckley #steve harrington #inadvertent desert hearts movie date au #my writing #my graphics

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multiplicationdivision · 10 months

Text

Two Video Games, One Controller

Warning: Not really anything sexual. Just stuff I enjoy!

Adjusting to two bodies was unique.

You wake up, tired and caffeine deprived. Get through making your first cup of Joe, too exhausted to even remember what’s different.

You wake up again.

It’s always a surprise. Opening your eyes again in bed when you are also drinking from your favorite cup of cheap cheap roast. That television in your mind switched to a second channel. Playing two games with the same controller.

It isn’t as hard as it sounds.

Two bodies means two brains. Sure, there’s that consolidated personality, that same person at the center of the operation. You can see out of both pairs of eyes, feel out of the same skin. You have twice the subconscious though and twice the neurons to do twice the tasks.

You see yourself enter the room, identical man wearing the boxers and shirt you never thought you’d share. You’re not sharing, but there’s enough dissonance between two bodies that it feels like you’re sharing.

You shouldn’t have been dared into this latest trend.

The celebrities on TV made it seem so cool. Two of the same blond actresses and two of her man, probably paid to make the process seem easy and hot. They had fun juggling an interview between bodies and some part of that seemed nice.

You meanwhile did the thing that was far too cheap upfront and way too complicated out the back.

This other you, who shared every thought and emotion, stared back at you. You stared through him and back at yourself. You couldn’t tell who was put off by you, but the coffee aftertaste made you want to think it was the first body.

It was easy thinking two bodies meant twice the limbs, the same body for the same entity, just more spread out. That wouldn’t be a hive mind though. There was an echo of two minds, wrapping themselves loosely into one mind.

His and yours, bouncing back and forth and confusing themselves because at some points they stopped being one and started being two. It was confusing to say the least.

One of you wore the t-shirt that you should’ve thrown away years ago and the other could tell how shit it looked. That meant twice the awareness of the fact that you wore the threadbare garbage to a date last week. Before all this.

Both of you would have to go to work. Your boss was sympathetic to your drunk decision making and she’d been needing more hands. He, or maybe they, were lucky in a way to have found her some.

The worst part was the embarrassment.

It didn’t say good things about a person to have divided yourself in such a way. Almost like a face tattoo, but with a glaring two-person sign that screamed narcissism and loneliness. Just as permanent as a tattoo too, unless you were willing to pay the therapy that would get you functional again after experiencing actual death.

It wasn’t like losing a limb. You’d checked. The people that came after certainly didn’t look like they’d just lost a cloned body. Most just straight up died, if not immediately, then soon after.

They’d outlawed the shit a day ago, but you were unlucky enough to have fallen face first into the bullet before that. Now you were just one of the many victims who’d chased a tech trend before the side effects were listed. Kyle still texted more than once a day to apologize. You couldn’t blame him much. It had seemed cool.

The most embarrassing part was that fact.

It was cool.

When the dissonance died away with another cup of coffee, it felt good. Gathering up the necessities for work as the other body got outfits together.

They’d needed to buy what felt like a whole other closet and it had been necessary. It was expensive, but fun. You’d always wanted to see first person what you looked like and there was a confidence in confirming that you did actually look good. Bought a variety of the same outfits in different colors.

It had felt way too confusing wearing different shoes and different clothes the few times you’d tried it. One of you would think he was wearing converse whilst the other had boots with a heal. You’d both fallen on your own feet numerous times. It never felt good to feel cold in one body whilst the other was warm. Like drinking boiling mint.

You now had duplicated shoes and the general outfit, but you avoided matching. Maybe it just felt a little too uncanny, but it was mostly to avoid the attention. You always tried to pass it off as being twins, but it hadn’t worked yet. Twins didn’t walk in sync or both answer the same sentence. It was just hard to stay aware of such a thing when you both weren’t focused.

You were getting better at it though. Yesterday, one you had gone out with a placating Kyle and his own friend group whilst the other stayed home to watch Cheers. You could stay focused on one screen whilst staying focus on the other, and a part of you got off on that. You’d even maybe shown off too much when cute Henry asked you to describe scene by scene of what your other self was watching.

When you forgot the last week, every day was way more than before. One of you could read as the other drove, not breaking any laws in the process! Admittedly, the ways you explored a doubled existence were pretty boring. You’d been able to spot yourself at the gym though, that was weird.

You’d been able to masturbate whilst at the grocery story and that had also been weird. Less of a good weird that time. It hadn’t worked out. Turns out one can’t only become aroused in one body, which sorta blew out the plans for one body to slack around whilst the other worked.

Felt good to kiss Henry with two bodies though. That had happened. That had been good.

You were planning on it again. You’d get competitive again with your other self inevitably. Fortunately, he just found it charming, watching two brains running the same hardware find a way to be competitive whilst remembering being jealous from both ends. It was trippy and you made it work.

It was so bad and it was so good.

You gave yourself a look that you returned, something comforting flicking back ad forth in your duel brainstems. Feeling your foot on the gas as your phone swiped to the next page.

It was probably going to be fine.

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#identical #copy #clones #hive mind #my writing #Not very hot lol #Straight up creative writing #Instagram

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shrinkthisviolet · 25 days

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1, 7, 8, 9, 19, 21 for Star Wars for the ask game please?

1: the character everyone gets wrong

Luke Skywalker. Everyone writes him as naïve and happy-go-lucky, but like…no?? Even in ANH, he’s snarky and impatient, and he develops throughout the OT into a badass who suffers no fools. Yes, he’s kind and generous towards his loved ones, and he’s very friendly, there’s no doubt about that, but like?? Writing him as an innocent ball of sunshine who can do no harm is just wrong. Luke is kind, but he’s not naïve—he knows fully well what Vader has done and how evil he is, he just also knows, has felt, that there’s good deep down in Vader. He believes when no one else does because he knows he can get through to Vader and change his heart, and he’s right!!

7: what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

Kylo Ren. The way some parts of fandom used to (probably still do, but I wouldn’t know) paint Han and Leia as abusive/awful parents and make Kylo the perpetual victim who was forced into every decision he made…as if he wasn’t like 23 when he destroyed(?) the Jedi Academy* and joined Snoke, as if every decision after that wasn’t his own decision—like, come on guys.

*I know there’s a comic that said apparently a lightning storm caused the fire that destroyed the Academy? But Wookieepedia said he’s the one who summoned the storm in the first place, so 🤷‍♀️ who knows. In any case, the distinction is irrelevant to my point

8: common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

Anidala isn’t abusive, and I’m sick of people saying that.

“Oh but he choked her!!” Yes, that’s what happens when you fall to the Dark Side and your good traits are twisted/corrupted. You act in ways that are not like you! This is how the Dark Side works (despite what some Star Wars media would have you believe, the Dark Side corrupts, it’s not freeing. It’s an illusion of freedom, but it’s just a trap)

“Oh but Anakin forced her into it!” Nope! He confessed to her, and she turned him down initially, but she made the first move, and there’s no indication that she was forced into marriage.

You don’t have to like them, but saying they’re toxic/abusive is incorrect and I’m tired of seeing that take.

On that note, everyone attributes Vader’s salvation to Luke, and says he’s the person who always believed in Vader…but don’t forget that Padmé did first!! Padmé was the first one to always believe in Anakin, even after the worst had happened, because that’s how strong their love is! Because Anidala was true love!

9: worst part of canon

If not for the sequels, the Luke/Leia kiss would be here. I still hate that so much.

Taking the sequels into account though…the Rey/Kylo kiss. Absolutely awful. Putting aside the fact that I don’t like the ship, there isn’t really much development for this as a ship. Sure, there are some hints of chemistry here and there (mostly in TLJ with Rey slowly developing an interest in redeeming him), but they’re far outweighed by: Kylo kidnapping and torturing Rey, Rey trying to kill Kylo, Rey metaphorically closing the door on Kylo at the end of TLJ, and Rey killing Kylo in TROS and only undoing it because she felt Leia die.

Rey appears to have a change of heart about Kylo in TLJ, but that’s very clearly undone when he refuses to turn back to the Light Side (again, she metaphorically/telepathically slams the door on him)! And she literally kills him in TROS and only undoes it for his mom’s sake! And yet suddenly in the final scene she’s calling him “Ben” and putting her trust in him?? Nope. Not buying it. If I did ship this, I’d be very disappointed about how it was handled, because that’s just sad

19: you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like…

I'm intrigued by Vaderdala as a concept 😅 not in a genuine healthy relationship way, I think that bridge is burned post-ROTS, but I find the idea of them in a Padmé Lives AU very intriguing. Vader ofc would still harbor feelings for Padmé, and deep down, she would too (she does canonically believe in his goodness), but her loyalty would be first and foremost to the Rebellion and her kids…but also those feelings keep drawing her back to Vaderkin, because a not-so-small part of her wants to redeem him and get her husband back. And he, ofc, wants her by his side as his Empress. It’s just fascinating to me imo

21: part of canon you think is overhyped

ROTS. Listen, listen, I love it too, okay? I love all 3 of the prequels in their own ways. But…even people who hate the prequels claim ROTS is “the good one”, and I just…don’t get it? What exactly makes ROTS sooo much better than the other two? It’s not like ROTS is a perfect movie by any means, it has flaws too, just like TPM and AOTC do. It even has a similar tone. People seem to love it because it’s the moment of Anakin’s descent into Vader, and believe me, I love it too, but…some people love it disingenuously, I feel. One of its big flaws is the lack of Padmé scenes in it, with them all being deleted, so the fact that it’s the most loved of the prequels despite having the least amount of Padmé in it is…weird, ngl

And yes, I know people have complained about those scenes being deleted, this is a common complaint, but that doesn’t seem to have dulled the general consensus that this movie is (one of) The Best Ever.

(On that note though, if you haven’t read the ROTS novelization, please do, it’s absolutely amazing and tbh I’m enjoying it more than the movies, simply because it has more space to expand on certain characters and what they’re thinking, and thus expand on certain scenes. AND it adds the Padmé deleted scenes back!!)

choose violence ask game!

#choose violence ask game #star wars #anti reylo #anti kylo ren #vaderdala #anidala #luke skywalker #rots novelization #(tbh i also could've said 'leia' for 1. but i'll save that soapbox for another time)

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n3on-graveston3s-calling · 7 months

Text

Soaked in Blood; Doused in Bleach

Word Count: 1,190

Characters: Eustass "Captain" Kidd, Killer

Warnings: Angst Time. MEDICAL trauma; wound cleaning ( nothing graphic ).

Author's Notes: Consider this a part two to Born To Break.

It happened quickly. One moment, he had been smarting off; his mouth had always been a touch too smart, a touch too full of heated words and anger that manifested with a bark that threatened that a bite was close behind. That had been his downfall, now that he thinks about it- being too full of himself, too prideful, too hotheaded in a way that a captain should never be.

Benn Beckman took his arm.

He shouldn’t have laughed when it happened; it hadn’t felt real at the moment. One moment, his arm was there, and the next? The next, it was on the ground at his feet. The bastard’s Haki, combined with a blast from that shotgun he carried like a damn club. He couldn’t recall clearly what happened next; Heat had begged- actually begged, something Heat was known to despise even considering- for them to spare his life. Killer had held him? Or had that been Wire? He wasn’t sure.

Staring at his reflection in the mirror felt like he was having an out of body experience. That had been nearly three weeks ago. The tavern they’d decided to hole up in was discreet enough; the lack of Marine presence was a blessing. They could buy the tavern keeps’ silence, could lay low, and wait for this to heal. Bubblegum had found a doctor- an actual doctor, not just Wire playing doctor with stitches and bottles of cheap liquor.

Of course, there was no way to save his arm. The cut had been clean enough; he’deen too drunk to remember that, too. Probably a blessing, now that he thought about it. It hurt now; the skin pulling and tugging in the worst way possible as it fought to mend itself, to pull back together and heal over. The stitches would remain for another week or two, depending on how well this all heals up.

Eustass Kid hated this.

The door to his room opened, and in popped Killer, followed by Wire. His personal nursing team, it seemed. “The fuck did you two run off to?” He grumbled, though a smile tugged at his lips as the door closed behind Killer.

“Supply run. Found a store down the way that was sellin’ some dried goods.” Wire explained, setting down a small package of dried meat. Deer jerky. Deer? They had deer on this island? Shit, that was almost reminiscent of home. “And some more bandages.”

“Can I?” Killer asked, hands hovering, meeting his gaze through the holes in the helmet. The helmet he’d made him, years ago.

A grimace contorts his features, but he nods. “‘S time for new ones, anyway.” A roll of the shoulders has pain radiating from his arm, enough that a wheeze of pain slips free from unpainted lips. Shifting forward to the edge of the bed, he stares at his reflection in the vanity mirror across from him. Killer sits after having washed his hands, and carefully unwraps the bandage. Over and over, around and around. They essentially trapped his arm against his ribs to avoid it from moving too much. Killer’s hands were warm, gentle despite the danger they normally pose, despite the chaos and carnage they could cause. He’d seen those hands at work; had watched him kill with them as if it was nothing.

And now, he was touching him as if he were about to shatter into a thousand porcelain shards.

Garnet gaze tracks up, meets Wire’s umber gaze, watches him watch Killer. His gaze darkens as the final layer falls away; Kidd hisses once more as the cool air of the room hits the angered flesh. He doesn’t look; something about looking at it makes his stomach twist in ways that threaten to expel anything he’d managed to eat. So he watches his friend.

“It’s looking good,” Killer murmurs; at some point, he’d removed his helmet. Kidd looks to the ground where it sits; he can see the stump in his peripheral, and ignores it. If he ignores it, it will go away; that’s what he used to think when he was younger. If you ignore something, it will leave. That was bullshit. It won’t leave, it’s part of you now. “Skin’s healing well. Can I clean it?”

His stomach flipped. “Yeah,” he bit out, drawing in a slow breath to quell the nausea that threatened to make itself at home once more. He’d just managed to keep breakfast and lunch down, don’t ruin it. “Thank ye,” Eustass murmurs, and Killer nods. He glances over, studies him now. Killer had always had pretty hair. Golden in color and thick. It was curlier when they were kids.

Killer frowns as he dampens the cloth with isopropyl alcohol; it’ll sting like a bitch, but that’s what they had to work with, now. The wound itself was healing well; the skin pulling together nicely. It wouldn’t be an ugly scar, not compared to some that he’d seen- and caused- over the years. He could still feel the way Kid had slumped hard against him after the adrenaline had fled his system, after Shanks and Benn and those damned pirates had left.

The amount of blood loss had been terrifying. Killer quickly shoves that image out of his mind.

“Shit hurts,” Eustass groaned, eyes squeezing shut. His hand curled into a fist against the bed- and after a moment, Wire reached over, carefully opening his fist to replace the blankets with his own hand. Eustass gripped it, used the feeling of holding his hand to ground himself. Breathe, he needed to breathe. Raw nerves were a bitch to deal with, it seemed. “I have… An idea.”

“What is it?” Killer asked softly, leaning down to study the way the sutures curved. The doctor really did know what he was doing. Good.

“Gonna make myself an arm.”

“Are ye?” Wire mused softly; his fingers stretched down, index and middle settling over Eustass’ pulse point in his wrist. One, two, three, four…

“I think I can figure a way to make it work. Give myself an arm, again.”

“With your Devil Fruit?”

“Partly, yeah.”

Killer hummed, nodding slowly as he sat up. He tossed the rag aside; stained pink with old blood that still oozed when Kid was too rough with himself. “Whatever you need,” he rose to his feet to grab the fresh bandages. Gauze that wouldn’t stick against the nub; a roll of cloth to secure it in place. “We’ll help you.”

“You fuckin’ better,” his eyes rolled; Kid grinned over at Wire, who shook his head, though a fond expression had colored his features. “This ain’t gonna keep me down. We got places to go.”

“Give it another week, please.” Killer sighed, leaning close to wrap the bandages.

“... Fine.” Kid met his own gaze in the mirror once more, watching as the flesh was covered. He would make himself a new arm. It would be difficult; he’d need Wire’s help, but it would happen.

And then? Then, he’d find Red Haired Shanks and his stupid little First Mate, and return the favor twice fold.

#one piece #eustass captain kidd #massacre soldier killer #wire one piece #kidd pirates #kidkiller #writing's of a mad author (fanfiction)

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