#thinking. idk if this character would be found in the open ocean but i just realized how scary it would be to see someone walking towards u

[m1sa-w1sa]

Animal Party!

The harbingers finding out you had a pet

(Some of the animals are tigers lions bears sharks etc etc, characters might be a bit OOC cuz this is kinda a crackfic but if yall want more srs ones lmk)

Tartaglia

For him Lets say you had a pet bear it would go kinda like this, since you and him live in a big house you wanted a big backyard, he never knew why but he Never said no, his siblings could run around there so when he came home from work you were not anywhere to be found.. until he heard you call someone a “goodboy” from the backyard, his bow was already drawn as he would have a stern expression on his face until he saw you with a bear. “[NAME]…” “So i forgot to tell you…” “WHY DIDN’T YOU THEM ME SOONER?! HE’S SO CUTE!” overall tatamis loves the bear

Scaramouche

For Scaramouche you had a cat a fluffy white one, this time you went over to visit him with your cat just hanging out in her purse “Took you long enough-… What the fuck is that..” “Its [CATS NAME]…” I deeply feel like scaramouche would be jealous if the cat took to much of your attention but would warm up to the cat, not enough to not show at least a HINT of jealousy

Arlecchino

So You had a spider for this (if you dont like spiders then imagine something else) and again you went to visit her, Arlecchino actually does like spiders (or just insects in general based on voice lines) so wheb she sees one crawling on you she was surprised that you had one just hanging around, She doesn’t mind it and also gets close to the spider, Leney (idk if i spelt his name right) almost killed it becuase he thought it was creepy😞

Signora

You have a silly little snake!!! This can go either way you visit her, she visits you..OR she sees it slithering around and she calls you over “[NAME]! WHAT THE FUCK—“ “Signora! You found [SNAKE NAME]! Thank you!!” Signora would be surprised and confused..how can you live with that…THING?! Why is it built like that… Signora is ALRIGHT with your pet she isn’t to fond with it but would take care of it for you

Pantalone

You have a cat! Not the small one a BIG one so.. a lion for him you TOLD him you had a cat..just not what KIND of cat “Pantalone do you want to see my pet?” “Of course [NAME] it cant go that bad..” It went that bad, when he came to visit you and saw a whole ass LION he froze when did you get the beast?! “Ha..[NAME] you said you had a cat..” “I know! This is [LIONS NAME]!” “Why didnt you say that you had a lion?” “It was less fun..” hes alright its pretty tame, (might get a little jealous from all the attention the lions getting…)

Dottore

Simple way to put it, you have a shark said and done same with Pantalone you TOLD him just not that detailed in your words “Dottore you like fish right? You wana meet mine?” “Sure, I suppose it wouldn’t be that much of a hassle..” Well when he cane over he wondered why your house had a pool in the backyard, until he saw the fin sticking out of the water “See Dottore? This is [SHARK NAME]! “You said you had a fish” He doesn’t really care for it because he doesn’t go swimming often or study the oceans yet but he isn’t going to tell you to give it away

Columbina

You had a swan, a elegant animal it was plain and simple so there isn’t that much convincing that the animal WONT hurt them, You and Columbina have hang outs (aka dates..) by the pond, She only REALLY opens her eyes around you (she wears the mask so she wouldn’t fall in love with someone else again but your a exception) and saw that you had a swan with you she was like a kid in a candy shop in her eyes it was a perfect animal for someone as perfect as you! She loves your swan and has a good relationship with it

Sandrone

You had a hamster (a FAT one) it was just in your hands eating sunflower seeds (ofc it is..) as you were going to find your beloved Sandrone “[NAME] whats the dust in your hand for?” “Its my Hamster!” “What..” Sandrone is sarcastic so she does make jokes how its a fucking FATASS but she secretly thinks its cute and would do anything for that little fur-ball

Capitano

You have a fox! I feel like when he found out you didn’t know he was off today, so you were outside playing with your little fox friend while he looked at you, even if his face was covered he had a small soft smile who ever knew that his s/o could be so cute..but he doesn’t know much about taking care of animals so he loves hearing you talk about it and slowly warms up to your fox!^^

Peirro

Last but not least! You owned a monkey (or a spider monkey) but you and your monkey go EVERYWHERE together so its not hard for him to figure it out, since you two starting dating he was introduced to your monkey, he doesn’t mind that silly little fella he just wants to spend time with you and sometimes when your off doing errands or something else, your monkey just hangs out with Peirro, one time, Peirro had the monkey on his shoulders while in a fatui meeting (I feel like any of them would take your pet to a metting when there good with them, besides the shark… sadly)

(We are finished! I really hoped you enjoyed this!!^^ Tags: @jadestone2 )

[ohmigoshiloveu]

Okay, major spoilers for the suckening episode 5 not below the cut anymore cuz the episode’s out.

In ep 1, when the Fangs vampire is biting into Emizel's neck, Emizel's eyes close involuntarily, he sees himself drifting through a "thick, crimson liquid that seems to stretch on forever", and when he 'opens' his eyes he sees himself from a third person view from somewhere above the fight.

Now, the blood thing sounds like episode 5 when he reincarnates, and I'd bet actual real life money that the 'third person view' was from his cat's perspective, and I kinda think that maybe Emizel straight up wasn't supposed to be turned here. Like, I think he was always supposed to have nine lives, and maybe it wasn't added in just because he died in ep 4, because the blood thing happens right before he would've died from blood loss here in episode 1. The sequence would've made sense if he 'closed' his eyes again and found himself back in the blood ocean for the next 8 hours. He would've woken up, and because he didn't get the chance to tell Soda to run one last time or distract the Fangs vampire with surprise fatherhood, Soda would likely be dead, and that would've been his motivation for hunting down the Fangs vampire.

However, through the power of being a fucking gremlin, Emizel bites the Fangs vampire back, turns himself, gets up immediately and inadvertently saves Soda's life.

I feel like Soda dying might've deepened Emizel's character, because he's always at his most human and most interesting when he's worried about people and he straight up doesn't know how to handle Shilo's grief and I think this would be the equivalent of smashing in his mental stability with a hammer. I really really really wanna see what that would've done for his characterization but also THANK FUCKING GOD.

Charlie also describes a 'searing pain' and then it being 'peaceful' before the whole blood ocean thing, which i think might be similar to what Charlie describes in ep 4 before Emizel fucking dies, but idk if those are necessarily related.

[snellyfish]

Why is Angie your favourite character?

This is really funny I just got off call with Glownary and was talking about how much I don't miss Danganronpa discourse. Anyway I hope someone finds a way to get mad at me in this post!

((Admittedly I'd probably actually place Korekiyo above her because he ACTUALLY has a relevant and specified canon story,,, but, y'kno))

Plain and simple, she just has a handful of design and character tropes I super adore in characters! As a base, I'm usually not super into,,, well-adjusted, well-liked , reasonable, and rational characters. LMAO. They're fine but I live for exaggeration. I LOVE when they're little freaks and not watered down at all for the viewers sake/comfort, I love when they (both the writers and the written) just keep twisting the knife for no good reason other than the bit despite how unconventional it may be.

One could argue that her not being watered down and being as shitty to the other players as she is is a trauma response, or just a mentally ill person being mentally ill. It can be neat to think of her that way sometimes! It's of my opinion that almost all Danganronpa characters are super open-ended lore/personality-wise and we as fans are just making up canon as we go because it's FUCKING FUN, and, as such, all the ways that Angie can be interpreted is very interesting to me-- EVEN if that's seen as "the irredeemable annoying religion-force-feeding zealot antagonist." Which is, of course, an objectively awful way to view anyone REGARDLESS of media illiteracy, but, you know! I like weird freaks so this "flaw" they see is simply more food for me. Yippee!!

Whether I think she's canonically A) genuinely malicious and sadistic, B) traumatized from an abusive religious sect, C) honestly caring about the other players, and/or D) none/all of the above? I'll never tell! Oops all bangers!

Tropes I enjoy, whether or not I found myself enjoying them BECAUSE of Angie herself;;

Religion, especially if it's horrifying and...bad! (Most of my own characters deal heavily with religion and religious trauma, I think it's cool to play with, whether or not it's a fantasy religion like I think Angie's is)

CULTS! Cult behavior! Let's live in a commune!! (GUYS I LOVE MIDSOMMAR)

Dark skin / light hair contrast color combo goes hard!!!

+ The pansexual flag palette is literally my favorite color combo ever!!!!

Manipulative little shits!!!!!

Small scary women!!!!!!

Islander stuff, it's very nostalgic to me and I just have a deep love and appreciation for the beach and ocean!!!!!!!

Piercings!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cutesy sunshine character who could and would stab you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BLOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IDK HOW THIS WASN'T MY FIRST POINT!!!!!!!!!!

AND SHE'S JUST FUCKING SILLY!!!!!!!! SHE'S GENUINELY SO FUNNY AND CUTE ESPECIALLY IN HER INTERACTIONS WITH SHUICHI!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HER SO BAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She was an IMMEDIATE favorite when I played V3 and when I found out that, like, everyone fucking HATED her and she's probably the least liked character in the entire class by the fans, my brain immediately went the contrarian route to find reasons to like her even MORE. I tend to do this a lot, but when it's a character I already enjoy, it's even worse, dude.

ummmmm obligatory Shinnaga mention sorry but I frequently tend to appreciate a character a lot more based on potential dynamics alone. Ships, romantic or not, have legitimately gotten me to enjoy characters I hated before, based on interesting interactions unique to them alone. So while Kiyo and Angie's (they're making out btw) ingame dynamic and dialogues aren't REALLY what my sick and twisted mind views them as, it's worth noting that my honest belief and interpretation of the two of them could even give me a sliver of that dynamic being possible .......... means she's fuckin slay ............ it means love wins..... It means Vote For Yonaga 2024

[silbeni]

RYOMA AND ROHAN GO TO THE CLUB

In which: Ryoma is asked out to the club, and Rohan comes with.

Pairing: (DIU) Inkspots (Ryoma/Rohan)

Rating: Fluffy?

Part 2 of 2. First part can be found here

\\\two fics in one day yippie! Editing was quicker than I thought. I love me some yearning.

\\idk if people would notice or care but ! Ryoma uses a flip phone (cause it's cheaper and they're kind of a grandma about technology anyway) while most everyone else has a modern smartphones. In DIU we see characters using landlines and flip phones and later in TSKR we see Rohan use a modern phone so like? TIMELINES ARE NEBULOUS whatever

Selfish as it was, he loathed the idea of Ryoma getting dressed up for someone else. They were infatuated with some woman they'd met on the street. A chance meeting, 'instant chemistry' they said. They'd met up for brunch once after that when she asked them out to the club. He was opposed to it for several reasons, some valid, some not so much. But when they pleaded with him, and said they confided in him and only him, he couldn't refuse.

Rohan stepped out of the car, his boots making contract with moist asphalt. He circled around the vehicle to open the front right-side door, where Ryoma lay sleeping as a roll of film. It wasn't a long ride, but it was late, and they often fell asleep in cars regardless of how far the destination was.

He patted the car seat gently, but persistently. He knew not to wake them in an abrupt fashion due to personal experience. “Ryoma, wake up.”

Sure enough, they began to stir.

The roll of film twitched, and began to unfold into a humanoid shape. Going from vague shapes, to the fine details and finally to a concrete form. Soon, all traces of film would vanish, leaving a groggy Ryoma on the seat. He had witnessed this process before, but the spectacle never wore off.

They yawned, swinged their legs over the edge and hopped out. The spontaneous movement left them off balance, but he caught them before they hit the ground.

Ryoma gave him a grateful smile and a pat on the hands in return.

They began to walk together through the parking lot and towards the club. Several heads turned towards them, some gazes lingered while some lost interest after the first glance. Others were discouraged after Rohan glowered back and moved closer to Ryoma.

They didn't seem to notice. "You really didn't have to come, you know. I can fend for myself just fine."

The night was chilly and lit up by bright, artificial lights. Sounds of laughter and loud conversation filled their ears along with energetic music. Foreboding sounds, he thought.

Ryoma turned to him inquisitively when he didn't answer right away.

"You must think lowly of me if you think I'd let you go in there by yourself. I'm coming with you." He asserted himself. Ryoma had tried to persuade him back at the house, but he wasn't budging then, and he wouldn't budge now.

They let his words linger in the air for a bit before they spoke. "Thanks."

…

They were soon engulfed by music and noise, and flashing lights. Ryoma guided him through the mass of bodies, keeping him close to their side. For a moment, the music seemed to lull, and it was only him and Ryoma in an ocean of nothingness. They were leading him by the arm, and he focused on the feeling of their gloved hand curled around his bicep, The shape of the nape of their neck, and the choker he'd let them borrow. They abruptly brought him closer and he caught the scent of their also-borrowed cologne. He'd let them borrow the air from his lungs if they asked.

Ryoma's stopping felt abrupt. When he came to, they had taken them somewhere quieter, less of an attack on the senses. He quickly noticed how nervous they were, in stark contrast to their enthusiasm before. Evidently, the club wasn't his scene at all, but it looked like it wasn't theirs either. They kept fiddling with the straps on their shoulders and pulling up their long gloves to cover more of their arms. They couldn't seem to stay in place.

They shared a look, and he tried to reassure them using only non verbal cues. They gave him a weary grin back before dropping their gaze to the floor.

He didn't need to ask what was up. "She should be here by now." Ryoma pulled out a strip of film out of her dress, dipping her fingers into it to bring out her flip phone. They scanned for messages, to which there were none. A guilty part of himself wished her date would never show up, but he wouldn't be so lucky.

After surveying the heads of strangers for a while, they excitedly called out to someone. "Mina! Hey!" A short woman popped out from the ether and immediately tackled Ryoma in a hug. They happily reciprocated, practically holding her up.

He recalled when Ryoma hugged him in a similar way just a couple of hours prior.

"Ryo! I'm so glad you came."

Rohan looked away after that woman planting kiss on their cheek. The way her date was acting so familiar with them made envy rise in him like bile. Then, to add insult to injury, Ryoma piped up. "Oh, this is my friend, Rohan!"

He gathered up the will to do the bare minimum. "Hello there.” He spoke through gritted teeth, feigning a friendly disposition. It must've looked strange, but he didn't care to see a reaction. The world became quiet again, but this time he would find himself alone.

…

He had been idling near the two, just barely existing when they were separated by a large influx of people. He searched for them through the dancing mob, but he couldn't find them or their date. His panic hit its peak when they wouldn't answer any of his texts or phone calls. The worst case scenario played out in his mind. A missing persons poster, another life claimed by Kira.

After another couple of minutes of radio silence, he felt his phone buzz. He almost dropped it with the speed at which he whipped it out.

Below his flurry of texts, there was a new message from Ryoma:

(Ryoma) Srry i worried you turned my ring off

He wrote back immediately, asking where they were. A few minutes felt like ages as he waited for another response. He was about to call when they answered:

(Ryoma) Im outside

…

He breathed a sigh of relief when he found them sitting by the curb, seemingly unscathed. He didn't question why they were outside, alone, until they turned to him with bleary eyes. He was by their side in an instant.

They were undone. Her hair was loose, and her mascara was running down their face. They smudged it further, wiping their eyes with the back of their hand. They didn't seem to care if their gloves were pulled up or not anymore.

“Tell me what happened.” He tried his best to be comforting, placing a hand on their arm.

They responded in hiccups and sobs. He was only able to catch about 55 percent of what was said, but it was enough to put the pieces together. They had been ditched by the party girl. He shelved his rage, for the time being. He removed his jacket and draped it over their frigid shoulders. Then, he stood and offered them a hand.

Ryoma tugged on the fabric to cover more of themself, looking up at him through wet eyelashes.

“Let's get out of here.”

…

Ryoma provided him with the missing context when they settled down at his house. They were still sniffling a bit, but they had mostly calmed down. They were bundled up next to him on the couch, eating ice cream. The living room TV was tuned into some vapid reality show. It didn't matter to him what was playing, though.

They sighed. “I like her a lot, but I can't play second fiddle like that, you know? I mean, everyone keeps telling me I need to value myself more..." Ryoma took up a spoonful of funfetti, absentmindedly holding the spoon between her teeth. They tilted it up, letting it touch the tip of their nose, and let it fall repeatedly in a mindless, repetitive action. He thought it was cute in a way only Ryoma could be.

Ever so empathetic, Ryoma disallowed him from bad mouthing the woman at fault, so he kept his scathing commentary to himself. Instead, he took the role of the supportive listener and let them pour out their emotions.

“That's right.”

Rohan was being earnest, but then a playful thought popped into his head. He changed gears. “For people of status—such as ourselves— it is imperative that we value ourselves accurately. Don't waste your time with that…” He paused for effect, “...peasant when you can keep much more…*enriching* company.” To end off with a little extra flair, he blinked slowly and examined his fingernails.

Ryoma sputtered. They were fortunately quick enough to remove the spoon from their mouth before it could become a choking hazard. They spoke through giggles– “Stop that!” and batted him, painlessly, on the arm.

Rohan received their weak blows with a self-satisfied grin. “What? I'm right, am I not?

Suddenly, an upbeat song filled the room, interrupting the moment. It took Ryoma a second to figure out where it was coming from. They picked up the sticker-covered culprit off the carpet.

"...Hello?"

"Yeah, sorry. It was on silent."

Ryoma paused, and Rohan could somewhat hear the person on the other line.

"Sorry."

"Okay, I'll remember to."

"Mhm. Yeah."

"Mkay, Love you. Mmmm-buh-bye." They proceeded to end the call with a series of kisses.

Ryoma softly laughed to themself, putting the phone down. "Tomoko, she was concerned because I forgot to reply to her goodnight text."

"She cares about you quite a lot."

"She does."

There was a comfortable gap in conversation.

Then, their head made gentle contact with his shoulder. It was unexpected, in the sort of way that a cat would abruptly flop on its side. He immediately tensed. He couldn't never quite get used to their affection. It wasn't in his nature. …That didn't mean he minded it, though.

"Hey, I'm sorry for roping you into this. You're a good friend."

From the way they were resting against him, a couple of hairs were brushing against the side of his neck, and he could feel the vibrations from their voice when they spoke. When they said it like that, he didn't mind being called a friend.

His stomach was doing backflips, and his heart rate spiked. Coming up with a response felt impossible, but he wanted to say something before Ryoma noticed his silence.

Ah, yes. The old reliable.

"I know.”

Epilogue

Ryoma's phone emitted a notification tone. They picked it up, expecting their mom again. It was the woman of the hour. They couldn't help the upset that came over them when they opened up their messages.

(Mina) Where r u???

They noticed Rohan's eyes on their screen, and for some reason, they felt the need to play it off as if they weren't that hurt. They laughed humorlessly. "I guess she finally noticed I was gone."

Rohan simply 'hm'ed. His posture was tight, with his arms crossed and topped off with that haughty, cat-like glare he wore when something irked him. He kept making that face at the club, and before, when they'd bring up people they liked. They didn't know what it was about the subject. Maybe he'd had a rough past with romance? Had he even dated before? … Hey, that crimson eyeshadow looks super pretty on him.

He raised an eyebrow at her. Ah, she was staring.

Back to the problem at hand, they deliberated on what to say for a long while. Starting messages and deleting them. They were generally good with people, but they always had trouble with things like this, shutting people down, especially through text. Although, the last thing she wanted to do was call.

Ryoma sighed, staring at the blinking text cursor in their blank message box. They noticed Rohan was watching them again. Did he see all of that?

They sheepishly ducked their head. “I don't know what to say, I can't just block her..."

"Give it to me."

"What?"

“Your phone.” He motioned with his hand.

They were apprehensive, but they figured he'd be better at formulating a response than them, and they could supervise. "...Okay, but be nice."

His dark chuckle as they handed it to him should've been enough of a warning. He began typing away at an impressive speed.

"Hey, be nice!"

There was no use telling him that. He kept hammering the buttons in utmost focus, their request might've even motivated him to go faster. That, and he wouldn't let them look at what he was texting. All they knew was that after a couple of seconds, he was done.

He handed the phone back to her cooly, snapping it shut. They imagined steam rising from the device due to the vigorous use.

“She won't bother you again.”

It was a little warm to the touch. “...What did you say?” They inquired, scared of the response. The contact was gone when she tried to find it, so it's not like she could've checked for herself. It didn't inspire hope.

The way he answered next confirmed their fears. “Oh, it was nothing she didn't need to hear.”

[eleanore-delphinium]

Oh what are the ideas for the fic ur thinking about for damirae ? 🙃

I will start with, I have always been a loyal DamiRae shipper. But this, this one, I am bending a little. Well, a little bit more.

This is more JayRae feat. Damirae, but I think you could say it could be the other way around too.

Spoilers ahead.

WARNING: Major Character Death, Manipulation

And there are 2 ideas...

Falling for Raven

It starts off at night, in a forest, with a man running. It's in his POV.

And he just keeps swearing. A wooden cabin comes to view and he ran to it and hurriedly entered .

And more swearing as he kicked and punched the wall. Shattering something.

And then cut to-- a bunch of DamiRae scenes.

I'm thinking, how they met, and I'm thinking they met at 13. Then it shows some of their little cute moments as their ages progressed.

How they clearly wanted to get married to each other and loved each other so much. Maybe even made plans to get married. And some of their intimate moments too-maybe.

How she grieved at 19 when she lost Damian Wayne.

And there is a beach scene where Raven kept staring at the sea, the sun has not yet set but was low at the horizon.

How she wanted to follow him because Damian was lost at sea. He was on a mission and something went wrong with the jet. She wasn't there in that mission. He told everyone to evacuate but he stayed.

And they lost him in the ocean to be never found again.

She started walking into the ocean, in a straight line.

Jason had actually followed her worried but stayed from a distance and saw her walking into the ocean with her clothes still on, minus the shoes she left on the shore.

He ran to her but she was gone by the time he reached the shore and called her name.

Then she was suddenly beside him, "Jason?"

He was startled as he looked to his left. Raven was wet and still wore her clothes.

They were sitting now, looking at the sunset as the calm waves washed the sand.

She confessed to him that she wanted to follow Damian wherever he was. How life was so hard without him. But she also knew that he'd want her to be happy and move on.

She confessed too that if she had found his body maybe she'd do everything to resurrect him.

And then, she'd say, she probably still wouldn't. Because she knew that that version of her was something her boyfriend would not want her to become too.

How she still struggles everyday over the lost of him.

And then--

"Jason? What's wrong?" Raven said and we are brought back to the cabin. In the darkness of the cabin that has become a mess.

The man froze.

"You're bleeding, Why'd you suddenly run off?" She asked and the man turned looking defeated to reveal Jason Todd.

He fell in love with his dead brother's girlfriend. He didn't know when, but he just realized it now.

She was confused but closed the distance between them. And with every step. And with every thought he had.

She realized what was the matter.

Damian was gone for almost 6 years, and somehow Jason's gaze toward her changed.

Raven took a step back, visibly rattled.

"Don't say anything." He said and the two stared at one another, "Please let me say it."

Silence.

"I'm in love with you, Raven." He confessed.

Then I was thinking that is how this ends...

Because I want to leave the readers hanging with an open ending. Did they or did they not? Who knows...

And also I was planning that it was revealed that the POV in the DamiRae scenes was actually Jason and the intimate parts were his assumptions. Though I don't know how I will be able to pull that off.

But maybe I would be able to... considering I wrote The Engagement, Pillow Talk and Heart of Stone.... idk man... (check them out if you haven't)

But,

I do see this scene too.

In a graveyard, maybe a few days later, Raven is talking to Damian, needing help and guidance.

Then maybe a few months after, she is with Jason at his grave, and in the distance, there is a man in black watching them.

Now, the second idea.

What If You Came Back?

This one could just be loosely connected to the first one. But not necessarily the same timeline.

Raven is already dating Jason but Damian suddenly came back.

It was confusing. Jason knew that he was nothing in comparison to Damian and was ready to let her go even though it hurt and he didn't want to.

Raven and Damian are on a couch and were talking. And she caressed his face and asked for one last kiss.

But as her lips drew closer to his, she froze. She couldn't.

She said her goodbye to him and them.

She is then seen waiting outside of Jason's apartment.

"I was with Damian," She told him.

He tried to ignore her and she could smell the alcohol around him like perfume as he attempted to open his door.

Jason just wanted her to be over with it. But he also couldn't tell her to. He was certain she was gonna tell him that she was leaving him for Damian.

She slowly opens up about this situation and Jason is just quiet. He is facing his door but no longer attempting to open it.

"I will always love him. He will always have a place in my heart." Raven finally said and Jason closed his eyes, what he was waiting for was finally coming. "Would that be okay with you?"

Jason was shocked.

Ultimately she choose him and they kissed, the door was open and they continue on inside, and he asked her, "Are you sure you want me?"

Or something. And then the end. Oh, she said yes.

And then I was like, but imagine Damian gave them his blessing and asked Raven if he could give her off in their wedding. Which she happily accepted.

And also rather symbolic because he supports the relationship. And her dad is a dick so why would she want him to give her away.

Then I was also like, but what if, in the wedding, he gives her off, then wham bam, stabs Jason, kidnapped Raven, and made her forget everything after his death and Raven and Damian have a happy ending.

The last bit, is just a thought. Very Dark I Know.

This isn't the first time I thought of a JayRae fic, but the second one being them being the endgame is a first.

And I feel so unfaithful. DamiRae is OTP. Forgive me this once guys. But you can hate me too.

But the running in the forest and all is plaguing me. I want to write the frustration, make you think it was Damian and then be shocked as fuck that it was Jason.

And that is all folks. Thanks for the interest Anon! Ta-ta.

[harlowehearse]

Hello again!

I just wanted to stop on by and ask some questions on your lovely and creative world building!!

My main thought was how you stated that skin taker is dead, yet in some way still alive? Is it an abysmal thing? Like you can’t fully kill one until they are due to die?

Also I love hearing your headcannons! And would love to hear more of your ideas on abysmals and maybe even how the puppets function, say like if something cut there string?

Keep up the work mate, it’s incredible!

First of all, AWAWAWAWWAWAA thank you!!! I'm glad you like my silly puppet thoughts.

Second of all *points to Skin-taker* I have no clue what the hell that thing is!

I do definitely think he's dead and thats that. I feel the whole "abyssians can't actually die" deal may over complicate thing a bit, he's just undead yknow? Maybe because of necromancy shit but I like things better if it was vague and he was just... *gestures vaguley* like that.

You can kill an abyssian I think but it's really hard, and you'd have more luck banishing them back to the abyss (the realm the abyssal kingdom is found). I've had the idea that if an abyssian is banished from candle cove back to the abyss in their place will be a corked bottle with a spell that can summon them back, and holding onto it is like a curse cuz if you do you'll have the inexplicable urge to open it but also if you just abandon it you're leaving it for who knows to open and unleash.

I've considered that maybe on top of skinning him Poppy managed to banish whatever was left of Skin-taker and after the fight he was just NOT okay in any physical mental or emotional way, so he just threw the bottle out into the ocean and later on Horace was the one to find it. I kinda like and dislike this cuz it gives more distinction between necromancy and summoning as different types of magic, but also I feel candle cove should be kind of.....idk empty? Vague? I feel really detailed and complex world building and lore could disrupt the creepy, liminal, twisted childrens tale vibe it's got going on. But yknow it's still fun to think about.

I don't have any in depth thoughts on how the puppets function and their anatomy or anything, I just really really like the idea of throughout the series them being....surprisingly organic in a lot of ways and it's just never explained and you're left there just wondering "Why can they hear a heartbeat while in the bowels of the ship?" "Why is the sound of crunching bones coming from that plush doll?" "Why can they bleed?" Idk I just like leaving some things up for the imagination.

As for their strings I actually do have a headcannon about them! Only the characters on the show who become aware of the audience somehow can see their strings, but don't necessarily have the power to cut them. Skin-taker can see his and, at least appears not to or is too far gone to mind. He fidgets with them a lot actually, like a kid messing with their shoelace.

Red Mary and Gorger (ManBearPig) are the only characters who can see and also interact with everyone elses strings. Gorger, because as Grimmes sort of insert of himself, is the most aware of the nature of candle cove as a TV show and actually plays a role in keeping things in line, keeping the story going how it's supposed to. I assume if someones strings get cut it's like cutting an unnessecary character from a story. Any trace of them is wiped from the world and just their husk is left. There's a lot of limp, lifeless puppet and doll bodies scattered throughout Gorgers cave. *points to Mary* She's just a terrifying fucking freak. She's burnt her strings she says, and remains despite it.

[omiscurls]

Diluc, zhongli and childe reaction to their s/o breaking up with them after something they said, maybe after a week or so after they argument they think the s/o forgave them but they break up instead? I WANT THE ANGST

consequences

plot: reader decides to break up with the character after not speaking to them

contains: diluc, zhongli, tartaglia (idk how am i going to do this to my special boy but ill try my best)

warnings: angst, breakups, implied past toxic behavior

a/n: OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO HARD- I DONT HAVE THE HEART TO BREAKUP WITH PEOPLE

diluc

hopeless thoughts ran through your head as you fought with yourself about wether to enter angel’s share or not, hand halfway through to the doorknob. your mind hadn’t been made up just yet, you were still in between two very different scenarios - the urge to forgive him for his hurtful words growing stronger each day, as anger and other emotions subdued to loneliness and the feeling of a part of you missing, ever since the two of you stopped talking.

your mind flashed back to the exact moment when you looked into diluc’s eyes, always so soft and calm for you, forming a way of anger he never expressed towards you before. to the feeling you got right then and there that this man is not the same one you’ve met and fell in love with.

the process of coming to terms with that conclusion was as painful as the first strike of his angry glare, and even though he seemed to have realized the weight of his words right after saying them out loud, no matter how hard you tried, you could not erase them from your memory.

one strike of that pain, one memory of that night was enough to make you go through with your plan, door to the bar opening with a little screech.

it was like just another late afternoon, with charles tending the bar, knights and townsfolk filling the hot room, and the smell of alcohol traveling through the air.

“hi” you said to the bartender “is master diluc around?”

charles, busy with his work, quickly replied that he’s out back, opening a barrel. you nodded and went where his directions guided, pushing open yet another door to see the back of the man you loved, looking just as always from this angle, working over said chore. he didn’t even seem to mind the fact that someone walked in on him working.

“diluc” you said with a sigh, and he almost immediately turned around, tools falling from his hands and onto the ground.

“darling, hi” he replied quietly, walking over to you but stopping half way, eyes set to analyze your expression, figure out what was going on in your mind. “i’m glad you’re here safely, i haven’t heard from you in over a week” he added cautiously, as if weighing every word before deciding to say it out loud.

“well” you sighed again, once again going over wether you should actually break things off right then, mind taking pity on his troubled expression, tired eyes, on the obvious eyebags that were much more apparent than before, a sign that he didn’t catch too much sleep. “i had to come to terms with what i’m about to say”

he wanted to tell you he was sorry, he really did, but words didn’t seem to come out of his throat. obviously he was sorry, it was a bad day and he meant none of what he said, but you knew that, right? you knew he always cared for you and loved you… right?

he wasn’t the best with words, hence, the idea of apologizing with a gesture after you were done teaching him his lesson came to mind. a brilliant idea, one could never go wrong with a thoughtful deed for their significant other, just give him one more chance.

“and my conclusion is, we need to take a step back and… reevaluate things in our lives. i’m not saying this is the ultimate end, but what you’ve said, and how you’ve said it made me realize…”

you were making a good point. you were talking about your feelings. he should listen, but the only thing he heard was the blood pumping through his veins, and the two single words

the end

so there won’t be another chance? he won’t be able to prove himself? what do you mean, the end? the best thing that ever happened to him in his sad life was coming to an end because of him? but he was so careful, he treated you like his treasure, because that’s how he truly felt, like his lifeline, something he could never lose…

and all it took was one sentence too much, one glare too intense. for the first time in what, six, maybe seven years, his eyes began to water, as he blinked the tears back at a rapid pace.

“… and that was a shitty thing to do. i hope you know that. i don’t know if i had anything else i wanted to say, perhaps i did, but… that’s all. see you around, i guess” you mumbled, loosing confidence in what you were saying, taking one last glance at his lost eyes before turning around.

turning around from him, from the love of your life, was perhaps the hardest thing you ever had to do, and yet you did do it.

before you could reach the door again, though, a cold hand caught your forearm. your eyes met his, with just a glimmer of hope that he would magically say all the right words and somehow make you stay, you didn’t want to leave, yet knew you had to. if you wanted to preserve the respect you had for yourself, you had to leave.

why were you giving him time to say something?

his helpless gaze seemed to speak with a thousand words, begging, pleading you to not leave through that door, but as much as his lips did part, not a single word left.

he couldn’t say anything to hold you back, and you ripped away from his grip, turned, and walked away.

and just like that,

he was all alone, again.

he was gonna need a drink.

zhongli

tears flooded your vision, blurring every details of zhongli’s face, causing you to only see a pale color palette, instead of your favorite person, ever. maybe it was for the best, maybe it would make it easier, you thought, but that was a foolish thing to hope for.

even through the salty tears, you could make out his eyes, it’s glow never failing to guide you, and comfort you, now seeming to burn their way through you, through your body and soul.

“you’re stuck in another love, zhongli, we both know that!” you exhaled a bit louder than you intended to, the outcome sounding more like an accusation than a fact. “how can you ever say you love me, when it’s so obvious, and so apparent, that every time you look at me, you see someone else? you HOPE for someone else?”

you could only wish the words you spoke didn’t come out as a complete mess, because of those tears you were constantly choking on. desperation seeped through your voice, as the feeling of helplessness rose every time you looked at your lover and at the anguish, and confusion he presented.

how could he make this so hard? it’s not like you’ve presented some statement he didn’t know already, right?

you hoped your eyes would say all the things you didn’t trust your voice to. you hoped he’d somehow hear how all you ever wanted was to be enough, was to meet his standard, how it tore you open that every time he said <i love you> his eyes wandered everywhere but onto yours, how all his touches seemed absent, how all his compliments were truly about some other face, some other smile, some other kind soul.

the worst part was, how could you blame him? how can anyone, ever, blame someone for being in love, of all things? love was something beautiful, and once you’ve experienced it, you’re drowned in it forever, and don’t even want to see the surface again.

love is beautiful. when you’re the one who’s receiving it. love was beautiful, to you, too, when you loved how his wisdom flew through his words, how his kindness hugged your spirit, how his aura brought you comfort. you loved his eyes, you loved his cheeks, his lips, every single detail of his skin.

the love you felt made you complete, made you warm, until you finally realize the thing you should’ve seen much sooner.

that you were merely a mirror for him to look at someone else, someone long gone.

suddenly all the warmth you felt was directed back at you, burning you inside, making you wish you never felt it in the first place.

“aren’t you gonna say something?” you whispered.

his long fingers found their way to your hand, but you snatched it away.

if you fell onto his charms now, you wouldn’t be able to get out once more.

his breath hitched as he gathered himself to speak

“i want nothing more than to love you” he said, although quietly, it rang through your ears like the loudest of screams.

you scoffed.

“we both would’ve wanted that, then”

“and i’m sure i can, if you just—“

now, laughter was all that you were capable of letting out.

“zhongli, you can’t train yourself to love someone. and even if you could, then how do you think that would make me feel? like i’m so unlovable you had to force yourself through it to grow accustomed to a feeling similar to love?”

“that’s not what i—“

“that’s what it means! let it go, please, please just… let me go” you sighed, standing up from the bench over at liyue harbor that you were sitting on. the sun has begun to set on the other side of the sea, and you couldn’t help but notice, it would’ve been the perfect date.

“i do sincerely hope you’ll find someone who’ll love you just the same” he finally stated, as he gave up on trying to make you stay.

“why?” you chuckled “so i could make them suffer the same way you made me?”

tartaglia

(archons give me strength)

you found nothing but guilt, looking into the endless ocean trapped in his eyes. for the first time in forever, they glistened, but not with a spark of joy, like you always hoped they would, they shone a sickly shine, caused by a thin layer of tears, that didn’t dear to spill over his porcelain cheeks, almost as if afraid of making contact with the ruthless face of the number eleven of the fatui harbingers.

he could’ve easily been crying if only he let himself go. he would’ve been in tears, sniffing and coughing, but he just… wasn’t. he held those tears in the gates of his eyes, as if his life depended on it.

the guilt you found inside them, wasn’t his, but yours. you felt guilty, watching this composed, confident man fall into pieces right before you, crumbling before your sight. why were you doing this? you seemed to forget all those terrible things you’ve heard just from the way his irises begged for forgiveness and brows furrowed in inexplicable sadness.

but you couldn’t, no, this time you couldn’t.

“my word” you swore on dear life you’d burst into tears if your voice shook right now “my word is final. we’re over. and that’s… that’s it. you need to understand that there won’t be another chance.”

the moment his lips parted, you knew you were lost.

“i have told you so many times already, but i will say this as much as i need to, it will never happen again! i swear, on everything i love and everything that i am, i swear on life itself, i won’t ever let that happen again! you know i won’t! come on, i promise you, if there’s anything you can say about me is i do keep my promises, don’t i? darling, please…”

“promise yourself to heal and become better, first” you stated coldly, watching faith disappearing slowly from his fixed look.

“im sorry, you know i am, im sorry, im sorry, im so fucking sorry!” a scream left his throat as desperation took over both reason and self-respect.

“sorry isn’t gonna cut it”

“then what will? i’ll do anything, anything in the world, anything to prove myself to you. i get that you can’t love me, i understand that, but please, let me win your trust again.”

he said unnaturally calmly, compared to what he did before, and you got concerned immediately.

i understand that you can’t love me, his words rang through your head. oh god, what were you doing? guilt stroke again, right at where you felt your heart to be.

right when you wanted to turn around and leave, he must’ve sensed that, and pulled you into a tight embrace. not suffocating, as they often describe it, not toxic and desperate, but… as loving as every other hug you’ve ever received from him. as calming and grounding, even though you could feel his heart racing. he didn’t refuse for you to leave, he didn’t trap you.

you understood after a while,

he was saying goodbye. all the love trapped inside his heart seeped out onto you, all his feelings surrounding and engulfing you.

“let me promise you this” he whispered, voice shaking painfully “the next time i’ll see you, i’ll be a better man. someone you will be able to be proud of, someone worthy of both your trust, and love. i won’t stop until i’ll be enough for you to look at me without the disgust and fear you have now. i promise. i’ll be better.”

“until then, then.” was the only thing you were capable of saying before leaving.

as soon as the door shut behind you, you rested against a wall and covered your mouth with a hand, unable to hold your tears any longer.

you heard a cry through the door. so he does have some feelings left, after all

your daily reminder that requests are open [here]

[drabbles-mc]

Welcome Home

Steve Murphy & F!Reader

Inspired by Day 17 of the August Prompts: palm tree

Part 2 can be found Here

Warnings: some light melancholy feelings

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: This is my first ever actual Steve fic so please take it easy on me. I’ve only ever had him as a side character in my stories and I think I was hyperventilating the entire time I was writing this lol. This feels kind of like a warmup exercise for writing him but idk I think I like it. It’s a lot of AU here solely because he’s not married in this. Anyway! I’m gonna keep rambling if I don’t shut myself up. Hope you guys enjoy this little snippet.

Narcos Taglist: @garbinge​ @bruxasolta​ @winchestershiresauce​ @sizzlingcloudmentality​ @alm0501​ @panagiasikelia​ @616wilsons​ @hauntedforsst​ @mirabee​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @boomclapxox​ @nessamc​ @southotheborder​ @supersanelyromantic​ @padbrookcottage​ @mysun-n-stars​ @raincoffeeandfandoms​ @bport76​ @marrianena​ @ashlingnarcos​ @passionatewrites​ (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, let me know!)

Stepping out of the airport building and finally, after so long, setting foot back on home turf didn’t feel quite like he thought it would. For so long he had waited for this day, the chance to finally move on from all the mess and the violence. Now it was here and something about it felt just a little bit off.

Looking around, everything looked so open. Everything in Colombia felt so close, so cramped and constantly busy. Miami wasn’t a quiet city by any stretch of the imagination, but the energy was just different. There was so much beachfront, everything just looking out onto the vast expanse of the ocean. The perfectly-spaced palm trees seemed so far apart, not trying to grow through sidewalks and around buildings like the vines and flowers that he’d seen in all of his travels across Medellín. There was so much space and he didn’t know what to do with any of it.

He knew that he needed to hail a cab and head home. He couldn’t just wander aimlessly through the city with his luggage indefinitely. But going back to the house felt so final in a way that flying back to the states didn’t. Once he set his suitcases down inside his home, the Colombia chapter of his life was officially closed. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Going through the motions, he hailed a cab. He tossed his suitcases inside before sitting down in the back seat beside them. The driver looked at him through the rearview mirror, waiting for him to give an address. Steve thought about it for a moment before rattling off an address that he hadn’t thought about in years.

The driver just nodded, not showing much emotion one way or the other as they started the meter and pulled away from the curb of the airport. He put some music on to fill the silence, but he could tell by the look on Steve’s face that the man was not really in the mood to be making small talk.

Steve looked out the window, watching the cityscape pass him by. It felt like he was driving through a distant memory now. His whole life over the last few years he had been immersed in something so different, a place so unlike where he had spent so much of his life. It was obvious to say but there was no place in the states that could compare to what he saw and experienced in Colombia. Miami looked like everything that he remembered, but the feeling it put in his chest was so different now than when he had left.

It was a longer drive than he thought it was going to be, but he didn’t particularly care—he wasn’t in a rush to get home anyhow. He handed a fistful of bills to the driver, mumbling out a quick thanks and told him to keep the change as he gripped up his suitcases and pulled them out of the car behind him. The taxi door was hardly shut when the vehicle took off again in search of its next passenger.

Steve stood on the sidewalk, staring out at the small stretch of sand that filled the space between him and the ocean. It wasn’t busy at the moment, and truthfully he didn’t know what had possessed him to ask to come here of all places. It wasn’t like it was a popular beach, as a matter of fact it hardly qualified as a beach at all. It was just a couple yards of sand with benches and palms scattered along the way.

Looking down the stretch a little ways, Steve saw the same small shack that had been there when he left. There was hardly enough room inside to walk in and place your order. The only seating there really was, were the benches and a picnic table or two outside. It wasn’t much to look at if you didn’t know the gems that came out of it. It’d been there for as long as he could remember and there was something reassuring about it still standing even after everything the last few years had put him through. Clearly the little strip of sand on the coast of Miami hadn’t been through the same hell Medellín went through. Adjusting his grip on the handles of his suitcases, he continued the short walk down towards the small, wooden building.

When he reached the door of it, he released his grip on his luggage. The sign was flipped to closed, and there was a piece of paper taped to the inside of the door, handwriting that he recognized from seeing it on his receipts for years, “Thank you for so many amazing years of business!”

His mouth curled down into a frown, not quite sure what to do with himself now. He still didn’t want to go home, even if he couldn’t grab a sandwich and a beer from the same spot he had religiously gone for so long before he left.

Letting out a deep sigh, he wrapped his hands back around the handled of his suitcases and pulled them closer to the sand. It was useless to try and get their wheels to serve any purpose on the sand, so he simply lifted them for his short walk to the bench. He set them down beside it, looking up and down the beach for a moment. Hardly anyone was there, which the more he thought about it, the more it made sense since it was in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week. Feeling like the probability of someone coming along and making a quick getaway with his luggage was pretty low, he started walking closer to where the waves crept up to the shore.

He hadn’t seen the ocean in years, not like this. So much time being surrounded by mountains and jungle, and now all that was in front of him was a seemingly endless expanse of water. There was a hint of a breeze, the way there always was on the coast, and the air smelled like salt, felt lighter than the heavy, muggy air of Colombia. Everything felt so bright—the sand, the sky, the water, it almost felt blinding. Still, though, he didn’t put his sunglasses on just yet. He knew he’d adjust and everything would feel, more or less, the same way it had before. But right now it all felt so new. Part of him was tempted to lose his shoes and socks so he could just walk in the ocean, even if it was just up to his ankles, but he stopped himself.

He was sucking in a deep breath, gearing up for a long sigh, when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him. Turning around, his face immediately morphed into a look of confusion as he looked at you, the slightly apologetic look on your face.

“Sorry. I just,” you gestured towards the bench where his suitcases were, “I’m assuming those are yours?”

Looking back at the bench, he saw the handful of seagulls that had descended upon his bags and were currently picking at them, trying to open them. He huffed out something that was between a sigh and a laugh, “Ah, shit, yea,” quickly walking over, he shooed them away, chasing them off before turning back to you, “Thanks.”

You shrugged, smiling, “Yea, no problem,” you motioned to the bags, “Visiting?”

He shook his head, “No, actually. I’m, uh, I’m coming home.”

“Oh,” the sentiment of coming home didn’t quite match the look in his eyes, but still, you smiled, “Welcome home then…” your voice trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the blank.

He chuckled, holding his hand out to you, “Steve.”

You nodded, repeating the name back to him, “Steve. Welcome home.”

Something about the way you said it, the ease of it all, gave him a tiny moment of relief, something he hadn’t had in a long time. The end of his mouth kicked up, revealing a tiny smirk, “Thank you.”

[is-very-sad]

What if yandere inhuman darling was mostly emotionless, and the only time they ever end up showing any is by giving a subtle smile that would come off as creepy most of the time? Also, love your writing and finally decided to make an account to say this too, ahah;;

Y- you made an account just to talk to me??

I'm not flustered idk what you're talking about

For real though thank you so much that means a lot💗💖💗

So uhhh yandere reader, uhhh let's torment my current favorite character, like any good writer should

Contains religious/cult themes bc sagau, yandere behaviors including

Beidou always knew to be careful of the sea. Storms and waves could come from next to nowhere, intent on drowning the poor sailors in its path. But this.. She'd never anticipated this.

The stars changed nightly. Even the north star wasn't reliable.

Islands appeared at random, the charts say they should've been back to mainland weeks ago and yet when the stars change how can maps be accurate? Fish and other fauna are unnaturally abundant wherever they search, islands miraculously have fruit and vegetables, even if they're..strange. Game can be found in the forests and plains. Water can be found, and sometimes when the stores are low, she thinks she can't smell the salt in the sea. Part of her wonders if she can somehow drink the ocean water. Surely that can't be possible, right?

Some seem to have tribes, others only have animals. Some have neither or nothing at all of note.

She's apologized to her greatest inspiration countless times, yet her guiding star only brushes her off with the same monotone voice they've used since she found them floating in the ocean. She still checks them over daily, God or not she doesn't know how long they might've been floating alone in the water.

Under a sky so clear an arm of the galaxy itself could be seen clearly, she anxiously checks her maps again.

She's recalculated the Crux's route two dozen times today alone, as if ignoring the changed stars means she can still figure out where in this blasted ocean they are. She looks up to see them as the door creaks open. The pressure doubles. She has to get them somewhere safe. They're all that matters.

Several minutes pass when she looks at them next to her. Have they been staring since they sat down? Desperate tears start to sting her eyes. She isn't bad luck, she isn't a waste, she isn't the one who failed the true God-

"Hush."

She blinks. Blurry as her eyes are she can tell they're leaning over her.

"Why do you cry little one? Is the ocean not your calling?"

It is, but she can't keep you here forever. You belong in the Jade Chamber of Liyue, or the Shogun's palace in Inazuma. You deserve your throne!

A slow blink.

And then a smile that nearly has her running. She tried to, actually. But your hands held her arms to her chair. How is that gentle little body so strong?

"There's no need to be like that, we'll always have enough supplies. I guarantee it. We can explore forever. Is that not.. romantic? Is that the term?

Poor Beidou can only stare in horror. They'd done this? Romantic? What??

Slowly, as if Beidou was the fragile one which she is maneuver her until they're in the chair and she's in their lap.

"We can explore together forever. That's nice, yes?"

Beidou stares at eyes that never should've been able to hide their true nature.

The danger seems so obvious, now.

[kakusu-shipping]

If you want to make another Magnificus fic, you could/can you write something with Mags getting jealous of all the attention the Challenger gives the Lonely Wizard? The Challenger would hug, pick up and hang out with Lonely Wizard. Lonely Wiz is loving it and Mags is just stewing in jealousy

Have I ever verbally said I LOVE the phrase "stewing in jealousy", or really just the verb "stewing" on it's own. Seeping. Boiling. Left to soak in an emotion. idk man I just love that.

Lonely Wizard

Magnificus X GN!Reader

In which the title is not referring to the character you're thinking about

Magnificus watched from his tower top as his disowned mage pupils poured out the open door, allowed free after finishing today's chores.

After releasing his pupils, Magnificus had expected them all to leave, run as far from his tower as they could get, and never come back. He couldn't blame them, and he'd prepared himself for the loneliness.

Yet they all stayed, coming back on their old schooling schedules, and while he never went out of his way to actively teach them, they'd still always find some way to learn themselves something and pester him to no end.

Even leaving they were an annoyance.

Youngsters, all of them, they'd make a ruckus talking of their plans for the rest of the day. Magnificus tended to tune them out, but had still gathered tell of their plans.

The one the player called Goobert started side interning under the Dredger, and spent many extra time working clean up at P03's factory.

The one the player called Pike was practicing dual class, spending her time around Grimora's crypt, fighting skeletal foes with a sword, enemies that would neither hold a grudge nor stay down for long.

As for the last one...

They'd developed a rather irritating after school activity.

The one training to be a blue mage, with large white eyes on an otherwise featureless body, the one the Player had called "Lone", as Lonely did not qualify for a name. The one who screamed and screamed and screamed some more. The one who would pound their own foot in the coffee table just to feel something, the one who would rather take a direct attack than put up a shield, the one who nearly drowned just to get a feeling of what it would be like to stand at the bottom of the ocean.

That was the one The Player had chosen to spend their time with.

Magnificus watched in the least direct view as possible as the player ran up to the group of students, clearly being friendly with them, but even more so with the one they'd given such a lovely nickname to.

Lone immediately wrapped their arms around the player, shrieking in a way that made anyone in a 50 mile radius flinch. The kind of noise one would make just to be felt in their throat.

The player was easily lifted off the ground by the taller figure, who then proceeded to spin like a top on their toes. The speed they reach could have easily drilled a hole into the ground, if not for the sudden loss of balance toppling them over.

They fell with the player on their chest, laughing, smiling, in a way Magnificus could never make them do.

Not that he'd ever tried.

Not that he'd ever care to try.

He was no entertainment for a challenger to laugh at, or with, he was a great scrybe, an artist. He had more important things to be doing.

. . .

He decided to keep listening in.

The Player and Lone spent most of their time in Leshy's domain, feeling the many textures of wildlife, swimming in the flowing waters, jumping off high rocky paths, climbing trees, anything Lone wanted to do, and Lone wanted to do Everything.

Today was different. Today, Lone lay in the grass with the player on their chest, soaking in the warm sun of Magnificus' domain. The player weaved nearby flowers together, and they laid there, near silently.

Magnificus found his sketchbook on the ledge before him, a pencil in his hand, and the player already anatomy blocked into place. He considered the second, larger figure, their form and composition to the piece.

He closed his sketchbook and huffed quietly.

The player has always been touchy. They hugged and hung all over the other Scrybes, Magnificus was never safe from their constant need for contact. It wasn't like they were showing favoritism, only hugging and spending time with the mage pupils. They spread their time out evenly amongst everyone they could reach, and they'd always. Always. Been touchy.

Magnificus twirled the pencil in his hand, sketchbook again open, a clean sketch waiting to be inked of the player resting on an unspecified shape sat on the page before him.

His eyes narrowed back to the scene out the window. Lone now wore the flowers the player had so lovingly weaved together on their head, their eyes closed and breathing slow. Had they fallen asleep? Magnificus didn't know they could do that.

"What'cha looking at?"

Magnificus nearly jumped out the window.

He'd been seething so much at the image of his student enjoying such affections, he hadn't even noticed the player was no longer with them, and instead, here in his studio. With him.

The player's smile, and the surprise of their arrival, sent unstead heartbeats rushing though Magnificus' body. He shook, catching his breath in rasps and wheezes. Luckily, these were all rather normal for him, the player didn't seem to notice.

Once he'd gathered himself, Magnificus closed his sketchbook, a lovely inked image of the player and himself resting on a warm summer's day tucked cleanly between the pages. He returned to his easel, feeling suddenly much more content.

He gave a low huff as he picked up his brush, "Do children these days know nothing of knocking?"

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

Since you and I may be possibly the most JakuRamu loving people on the planet (based on your sweet JakuRamu essays that I have read over and over)— I just wanted to ask what else you love about JakuRamu and kinda give you a free space to rumble about them! Also, what do you think about Jakurai’s lines in Showdown? It seemed like he explicitly wanted to save Ramuda? Idk, JakuRamu 🥺💖

Jesus. This is going to be a lot. Under a cut for length

To address the Showdown question first -

This anon is talking about the following lyrics. Subjects and objects in [brackets] are assumptions I'm making.

怒りが汚した光と影が 君の嘆きを見逃しかけた 荒れ狂う海から掬い上げ救う 『シンジュク：痛み打ち克つGroup』

Shadows and the light corrupted by wrath Have almost caused [me] to miss your grief [I] shall draw [you] up from the tumultuous ocean "Shinjuku: the group that overcomes pain"

I was discussing this with a friend recently, actually. I like the interpretation that those lines refer to Ramuda, but light and shadow aren't images associated with him; if anything, they're more appropriate for Hitoya. Light imagery (such as lanterns, candles) is pretty common in Jakurai's lyrics as a whole, and so the "light corrupted by wrath" strikes me as a pretty clear reference to himself and his pain from his time as an assassin. Jakurai rarely acknowledges this pain in himself (which is partially responsible for his loss of friendship with Hitoya), so I think that the grief he speaks of could also be his own grief. I think this could also refer to Jakurai's lost friendships as a whole, Hitoya and Ramuda both, and speak of Jakurai's desire to save all three of them and thus finally overcome the pain that has been haunting him for a decade.

Now for the Jakuramu. Let's see. What I love about it:

It’s cute how canon adjacent they are. They hold hands! Ramuda braids Jakurai’s hair! Jakurai repeatedly goes out of his way to accompany Ramuda on adventures!

Every time Jakurai makes the face. You know the one.

I find Jakurai’s complete inability to make good decisions in Ramuda’s presence very amusing. (Not to suggest that Jakurai isn’t incapable of making some truly baffling decisions entirely on his own, but Ramuda appearing anywhere in the vicinity only exacerbates this character trait.)

Along that line of thinking, I love the trust they have in one another despite both being pretty guarded individuals.

I also love how this is Ramuda’s first true friendship and how it’s such an accepting, nurturing one before things go south. Jakurai has so much patience for Ramuda, which allows him to explore and learn concepts he would have little opportunity to experience otherwise.

Likewise, Ramuda draws Jakurai out of his shell and introduces him to the world of rapping. The Hypmic as a concept seems especially important to Jakurai, because it’s a non-lethal weapon produced by a group that seeks to eradicate violence in the same way that Jakurai does. Ramuda gives Jakurai a fallback he can resort to without ever needing to “sully” himself again. This also opens the door to other opportunities, like befriending Hifumi and Doppo later down the line.

Ramuda and Jakurai are narrative foils which makes comparing and contrasting them very fruitful exercises. I found Jakurai really boring before I started comparing him to Ramuda and finding some of his more hidden traits that are starting to appear in more transparent form in current canon.

They’re also complete weirdos who tend to go along with each other’s weirdness which, as a reader, is hilarious to consume.

Ramuda brings out qualities in Jakurai that aren’t readily visible otherwise (see point 7). I especially enjoy this when Ramuda brings out negative traits, like impatience or pettiness, as we sometimes see in the first DRB content.

Unlike other characters who usually treat Jakurai somewhat reverentially, Ramuda doesn’t look up to Jakurai (apart from in the purely physical sense). He can and does acknowledge Jakurai’s good qualities, but he doesn’t treat Jakurai as inherently better (and takes umbrage to this idea, in fact) or demanding of a certain respect like most other cast members do. Jakurai seems to enjoy this intimacy; it’s probably lonely being placed on a pedestal like he is. He rarely lords his superior traits over other people, so he doesn’t seem to enjoy them. He would likely prefer fitting in with others better, and Ramuda gives him an opportunity to experience that.

Okay, I admit, I have a weakness for height gaps. I think this is a byproduct of being very short and thus becoming accustomed to the idea that any sort of romantic relationship is likely to include a lot of looking up. Plus, their size difference means that Jakurai can do things like - and this is scandalous - pick up Ramuda if both are so inclined. I may or may not be extremely attached to this idea.

Their dynamics are very fun to write, especially in current canon when they become more vitriolic to each other.

And speaking of writing and on another personal note, their personal issues happen to align pretty closely with past circumstances I’ve faced IRL, so I find writing them to be a really cathartic exercise. It allows me to explore past events and feelings with enough of a degree of separation that I can begin processing them better.

[struggling-with-time]

Stressful streaming [Corpse  x reader]

Paring: Corpse husband x Female!reader

Summary: “What if y/n isnt a good gamer (they do something else on yt and never really got into it) so they just really suck at being the imposter? And everyone is trying to make them feel better but they feel super crappy about ruining the game for everyone- especially when they get paired up with corpse?” Requested by anon

“can I request something where y/n and corpse are dating, she is the group's baby and everytime she kills everyone's like 'yeah, that's cute bUT YOUR BOYFRIEND THO'.” Requested by anon

Warnings: Idk, this took a complete 180 midway through, and even idk what’s going on anymore. Fluff?  Comfort? Cuddles???

Words: 2k

A/N: Open for requests. And a two for one, you know me at this point.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The two of you had been living together for quite a while now. And you had been public about your relationship for a long time, had it been up to either of you, nobody still wouldn’t know. But it’s definitely better on both of your nerves not having to tiptoe around each other when you recorded, or he streamed.

You really enjoy books, so that’s what you naturally made the topic of your YouTube channel, book reviews. You had always recorded yourself reading and made it into a time-lapse after, it was when easier now that you didn’t have to worry if Corpse said anything and you looked up to answer him. You weren’t really into gaming so it surprised you a lot when Corpse had sat you down yesterday and asked if you wanted join them in the game today. The other had been bugging him to get you on call for longer than just saying a quick hi and then leaving him again. You weren’t much of a people person, honestly neither of you were. But Corpse was still better at interacting with others. Both of your setups was already in the studio, due to you liking edit your videos when he streamed, so you could still be together. Despite you mostly reading whenever he streamed, because then there wasn’t a chance he accidentally got caught on your camera.

Your routines worked for each other, but this was new territory for you. Both being live and gaming. You were nervous. To put it out there you were straight up shaking of nerves. Sure you wouldn’t be live yourself, and it was just among us, you had seem him play it a million times, but it still scared you what if you said something stupid, or did something stupid. Then you wouldn’t be able to cut it out, everyone would know in an instant.

Corpse greet his stream, as you load up your game, you’re fiddling with the hem of his sweater, makes him feel like he’s closer than the short distance that’s between you, because right now he seemed like an ocean away.

He shows you how to join the call and you accidentally squeak in chock as someone yells into their microphone. You can feel Corpse moving beside you, as he tries his best not to laugh at you.

“Shut up.” You mumble, and lightly shoves his shoulder.

“Me?” A guy with an irish accent asks.

“No! Not you, I’m so sorry that wasn’t to you- Corpse stop laughing at me!” You cut your own sentence off. As he now is completely failing at keeping himself from laughing, inviting everyone and their mom to listen to his beautiful laugh. You sulk for a bit, before he composes himself.

“But you’re just so damn cute.” He pets the top of your head, and walks back to his own setup, where chat is going rocket speed. He tries to read a couple in passing, but he turns his attention back to you when you whine.

“I’m not a child!” you pout at him and sticks out your tongue. A smile right on your lips as he copies you. You just love this man with all of your heart.

“Never said you were.” He teases back, before he starts to greet the people in the call. You realise most of your nerves have disappeared, no longer shaking, you’re getting a bit excited to do this. You listen closely when corpse says the name of each of the people in the call. You only knew the names before joining, but not what voice that belonged to whom.

When you’re finally in the game, Corpse suggests you put on the white skin and a flower. Your reply?

You lean close to the microphone and goes. “No.” And picks the yellow skin with the plant hat, declaring you’re now a citrus fruit.

“Corpse, how in the world did you catch someone like her?” you think her name was Rae asked.

“I didn’t she caught me.” He admits, happily. “Still having trouble believing she chose me.”

Earning an awe from the rest of the call. Two lovebirds.

“Simp!” someone yells in the call, you’re not really sure who, in the sea of mixed noises. Earning a laugh from you.

Crewmate flash across your screen, and you didn’t totally mean to peak, but you saw the red flash from his pc. As the game starts up and your character isn’t moving you realise you don’t know what you’re doing. Corpse realises too when his character starts to circle yours and nothing happens.

“Babe you good there?” He looks over at you, as you’re pressing each key on your keyboard testing out what happens. He chuckles at the sight. “let me help you.” He gets up, and leans over you, as he shows you how to move. His own character standing still, as he helps you around the map and shows you how to do the tasks. You happily let him guide your hands, enjoying the warmth he radiates as he stands near you.

That’s when a warning flash over the screen. Emergency meeting. You think it said. A screen with a portrait of all of your characters comes up.

“Corpse you good there, you haven’t moved all game?” Felix asks.

“Oh, sorry, I was helping Y/N with how to play.” Corpse answers over your mic.

“Hey guys, how do I make my name red like Corpses?” you innocently ask, with a gleam in your eyes as you look up at Corpse knowing damn well why his name is red. He’s the bad guy.

Corpse furrows his eyebrows at you. Glaring at you, as the rest of the call is laughing, it doesn’t take long before his astronaut is floating across the screen ejected into outer space. He leans close to you, making sure to mute your microphone first.

“You sure you want to play like this kitten?” He whispers to you, you respond by smacking his shoulder, and once again telling him to shut up.

Corpse helps you through the rest of the game. He makes sure you’re good before walking back to his own chair and greets his chat, finally paying attention back to them. Another game starts and the two of you  are imposters together. Corpse quickly goes over the rules of impostors, and it doesn’t take long before you have made your first kill, not noticing Sean was in Nav together with Rae.  But before he’s able to report it,Corpse comes to your rescue by venting into the room and killing Sean. The relief is short lived as  Felix comes running into Nav and see the two of you standing over Seans body, quickly reporting.

“Y/N you’re doing good, but you need to press the report button when it comes visible.” Felix starts out. “Also, it’s Corpse, there was a body in Nav, Sean. Wait Rae and Mark is dead too.” You smile to yourself as you realise he didn’t discover Raes body in there too, you feel a bit of pride.

Corpse looks over to you grinning at him. “We walked in together I was showing her where the report button is and how to use it.” Corpse defends himself. “She never found a body in the last game.”

“That’s true.” You choose to ignore he fact you’re lying to these strangers, and tell yourself that you’re technically speaking the truth. You never found a body in the last game.

“I’m sus of you Corpse, but we have no other evidence.” Felix says,

“And we shouldn’t vote on 7.” Toast comments. Everyone votes skip, and the two of you live to see another round.

The next kill is by Corpse, and you immediately report it, stating you found it in… what was that room now called?

“We found it in… that room?” You try and look over at Corpse for help.

“Electrical, headed there for wires.” Corpse quickly takes over to cover for you. Knowing full well the rest very much knows it’s the two of you.

“I think it’s a self-report, Y/N you’re trying out some big brain strats, but I saw you vent from med bay.” Toast tells the rest. You curse underneath your breath; you are starting to catch on the rest are trying to be nice. But you get it, you’re ruining the game for them, especially Corpse. A few seconds passes as everyone votes and your astronaut is sent into the vacuum of space. You sigh.  You watch as Corpse, gets one kill before it gets reported.

“What was everyone’s last task?” Grease asks the group. He gets an array of answers, but all to him seems nowhere near the body.

“I’m still sus of you Corpse.” Felix says, “You either failed card swipe twice, or forgot you already faked it.”

“How could it have been me? I was with you the entire time.” Corpse responds.

“That’s not true, when lights went out I couldn’t find you, and we just split up before I found the body now.” Felix tells the other incriminating Corpse. It doesn’t take long before he gets voted off. He looks a bit annoyed at the outcome. Knowing it was a risky kill. But instead in your mind you take it as he’s annoyed you were his partner. You reach out for his hand, and he takes it, you stroke it a few times and he seems to calm down again.

“It’s been fun you guys, but I’m not really good at this, I think I’m going to get back to do some reading. It was fun though.” You announce to the rest, Corpse watching in confusion over the sudden need to leave. The others bid their goodbyes. You get off the discord call. And closes up the game and shuts off your pc.

“Hey chat, I’ll be right back, I’m taking a quick break before we continue.” Corpse mutes his setup and walks over to you. While doing that you’ve frustratedly put your head in your hands, and is onboard the blame train for ruining the game for the others. Corpse wraps his arms around you and brings you right back to reality and where you belong, in his embrace.

“Babe, are you okay? Do you need me to stop the stream?” He carefully asks.

“I’m sorry I ruined your game. I really tried my best, I promise.” You sigh, looking at him, and leaning into his hug and the warmth.

“You didn’t ruin anything, Y/N. You made it better, I had a fun time with you, even if we weren’t the best pair.” Corpse starts peppering you in kisses alround your face until you start giggling.

“There is my beautiful Y/N.” He smiles at you, he knows he’s so whipped, and he wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world when he sees that smile of yours.

“Thank you.” You mumble as you put your neck into his neck, cuddling up against him. “Can I stay for the rest of your stream?” He doesn’t need to answer, he just sits back down in his own chair, and you automatically and easily, swing a leg over him. You cuddle into his chest and listens as he starts talking to his chat again.

“Y/N says thanks for everything, but this is really out of her comfort zone, and I’m proud of her for having done it.” He praises you to the rest of the world. He looks down at you smiling. He mute his mic as he whisper to you. “You’re still my favourite impostor, kitten.” You giggle, and he turns his attention back to the game. Getting ready to be a crewmate.

[valberryy]

oh, eurydice (it's an awful sound). — venti

de l'autre côté de l'eau, comme un écho. / tu dis que c'est la fin du monde, c'est ton silence mon eau profonde.

um,, idk what to say cause i dont want this to b my venti summoning post but. anyways. also tagging @starfell-traveler look i finished it!!!! b proud of me /hj

pairing: venti x gn!reader

content warnings: mentions/descriptions of alcohol & blood/injuries, major character death, it's just heavy angst i'm sorry

one.

Venti still remembers the first time he heard you laugh, warm and clear and bright, like the chiming of cathedral-bells.

In those golden days when he was getting used to his new face, he often found himself wandering—much to the chagrin of his friends. If he wasn't in one of the many taverns of the newly-built Mondstadt, he was wandering these new, free lands.

And that was how he met you, the spritely scion of house Gunnhildr, who had strayed away from your envoy with a bottle of wine and leaves in your hair. He noted the mischief dancing in your eyes, the sunlight dappling on your skin, the way your mouth formed a small "o" when you saw you were not alone.

Your eyes had lit up when you caught sight of him. "Oh, my lord!" you called, "Fancy a cup and a chat, perhaps?"

Venti stood still for a moment to ponder your request, but at the sound of you popping the cork off the bottle and pouring it into a cup you had brought, he found his resolve weakening. He took a seat next to you as you pulled a stray leaf from your hair, taking a sip from your cup before passing it to him.

How brazen of you, he mused.

While cherry wine, in his opinion, could never hold a candle to the dandelion wine he had grown fond of, it tasted all the sweeter coming from you.

You had laughed at this sentiment of his, clear as the water from the lake nearby. "Is that so?" you asked. "Perhaps I'll bring some more of this kind especially for you, dearest bard."

Venti responded with a playful pluck at his lyre-strings. "I'd prefer if you called me by my name, young master Gunnhildr."

"And what would that be?"

Just as he was about to respond, the two of you caught wind of voices yelling out your name, and you flinched. "That must be for me," you said. "I shouldn't have expected to be able to hide forever."

He helped you stand, stretching out his arm to pull you up—your hand was soft and warm against his own, and the "thank you," that rolled from your lips made his heart flutter in a way he wasn't used to.

"I'd love to see you again," you said, and he smiled.

"You talk as if this is goodbye forever!" Venti joked. "We can meet here again, if you so wish."

"Then it is done," you said, and squeezed his hand as if in confirmation of your new arrangement.

And with the lightest press of your wine-stained lips to his cheek, you had run off without another word—only the sound of your distant laughter and, "Sorry, sorry! I'm back now, mother!" left in your wake.

two.

That promise had soon become habit, and habit a new way of life—one wherein you would sneak away from the rest of your family to rendezvous with Venti in the forest, to share wine and song and sweet, honeyed words alike.

(And as time wore on, you pressed your wine-stained lips to more places than just his cheek, and the cheeky bastard would have you do it again, and again, and again.)

"What d'you reckon your family would say if they figured out you were sneaking away for this?" Venti mused, "Like a hero in a romance novel."

With a laugh, you lay your head over his lap and smiled when his hand came to rest in your hair, his fingers gently playing with the strands. "Scold me, I suppose," you said. "There are worse fates than not being allowed outside for a month, my love." 

You plucked a stray dandelion out of his hair, blowing the seeds to the wind. 

"Hmm? And what would those be, I wonder?"

"...You're so infuriating, Venti," you grumbled, and he simply laughed and took another sip of wine—elderflower this time, tasting like spring upon his tongue. "I can't even dare imply that I want to be with you forever without you teasing me for it—what kind of lover are you? Hmph."

He paused, a teasing grin growing on his lips despite your previous words. "Are you asking me to marry you?"

An odd noise left your throat. "I mean," you said, "unless you want me to take your surname instead? ...Now that I think about it, Venti Gunnhildr doesn't quite sound the best."

A laugh, first from him, soon followed by one of your own. "Your family won't allow it, would they? But if the fates allow…there's nothing I'd love more than to be with you," he said. Gently he untangled his fingers from your hair, weaving his fingers between your own instead. "That is, if you want it too?"

A world of just you and him, a life where he would never have to stray far from your side—perhaps this was what Amos so desperately craved for, in those days. Venti watched as you removed the signet ring from your pointer finger and fit it snugly on his own, admiring your handiwork and smiling up at him.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

three.

Somehow it felt odd to see you in clothes other than the casual attire he had always seen you in. When you were seated upon your horse like this, dressed in richly-dyed leathers and embroidered silks with your family crest hanging proudly from your breast pocket, you seemed much less like the cheeky [Name] that would pluck his lyre from his hands to play your own tune, and more like the young scion of house Gunnhildr that the rest of the world saw you as.

"I'm sorry, dearest," you said, your voice thick with regret. "They only told me about this last night, so I've had no time to tell you… And father wouldn't let me refuse, so—"

Venti laughed, "When did you become such a worrywart? It's only one round of hunting, right? I'll be waiting for you back here."

You huffed, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Then I'll be sure to hurry on back to you."

He pulled you back down for another kiss, square on the lips this time, before letting you go. "Don't miss!" he said, calling after your horse, to which you turned and yelled back at him,

"If I do, it's your fault!"

He laughed, settling down beneath a tree and closing his eyes. You'd be there to wake him when you returned.

When Venti awoke, it was not to your hand shaking his shoulder but to a thud and the worried whinnying of a horse. His eyes snapped open as you groaned, one hand clutching your stomach and the other propping you up. When you caught his gaze you smiled weakly, too much blood in your teeth and not enough light in your eyes.

"I'm back, dearest," you said, and he had stumbled over to catch you before your arm gave out.

He pressed down on your torso, where three large gashes ran down from your chest down to your stomach, large and jagged as if from the claws of a bear. You groaned in pain and he pressed a kiss to your hand in apology, your skin pale and clammy in a way that reminded him too much of harsh, cold winds and a boy with his lyre. 

"You should've seen me, Venti," you breathed, "I shot it right in the throat…are you proud of me?"

"Very," he said. "I'll always be proud of you."

You laughed, broken and pained and sad. "Good," you said, "good." Then you looked up at him, the tears welling in his eyes, the reality of his fate—your fate—finally looming upon him. "Don't look at me like that, love," you cooed. "Please, smile for me, okay? Sing for me…can you spare me at least that much?"

His grip on your hand tightened. "All of that and so much more, dandelion," he said. "Please…"

"So much more, huh…" you mused. "Then, how about one last kiss before I go?"

"...You talk as if this is goodbye," he says, but doesn't protest when you pull him down by the collar, your red-stained lips pressing weakly against his—

—But instead of the sweetness of wine, there was only the sharp bitterness of your blood in his mouth.

four.

"How far would you go for me?" was something Venti had thrown around a lot, never expecting you to give him a straight answer—not with how you shoved his shoulder and said, "Just because there wasn't a ceremony doesn't mean I'm not your spouse, Venti. Wouldn't the answer be obvious?"

But he still recalled the first time he had asked you and the first time you answered, your fingers tangled with his and your head buried in the crook of his neck. Your voice had been softer, gentler, lacking the playful edge but just as genuine as always, "From the deepest depths of the ocean to the highest to the highest peaks in the sky," you said, "Until my hands wither away into dust."

"Maybe you're the bard instead of me, love," he had said, then.

In this new world without you he found himself clinging to whatever remnants of you he could—the dappled sunlight in the forest, the slightest sting of alcohol going down, the glint of your family crest on the ring that adorned his finger.

One of his many laments was how he could never mourn you in the way he felt you deserved—he had not the power to turn back time, lacked the dominion over anything static and permanent to immortalise you with. He only had his lyre and his voice and his winds, and all he could do was paint the skies grey in his grief, have the gales sing requiems that you would never hear.

From the deepest depths of the ocean to the highest peaks in the sky he would go for you and back—and if the darkest depths of this world contained the secret to getting you back, perhaps even a mere spirit on the wind could bear the trek through the dark. 

(After all, Venti knew in his heart of hearts that you would have done the same for him.)

The heart of the Abyss wasn't a land of mindless bloodshed and fire—it was cold and calculating, like a predator lying in wait. It was this place, in the depths of Teyvat and in the winding depths of their palace, that he knew could somehow bring you back to him. 

"Are you the one for whom the skies wept, bard?"

Venti swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I am," he said. "I want a deal."

The person before him raised an eyebrow, canting their head to the side. 

"One life," they said, "and no second chances."

Cold, and calculating, and inevitable—but still he would try. Venti owed you at least that much, no?

five.

He squeezed your hand as you trailed behind him, muttering to himself: don't look back, don't look back, don't look back. No matter how much he longed to hold you, to see your face and feel your skin beneath his, he kept his gaze to his feet as you both moved onwards into the dark.

(When he saw you again, just as beautiful as the day he lost you, he dropped his lyre to run into your arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck and surrounding himself with only you, you, you. 

"Venti," you said, and he nearly wept at the way his name rolled from your tongue. "Let's go home.")

You squeezed his hand back, so gently that he almost couldn't believe you were really there. "Why don't you sing me a song, dearest?" you quipped. "Anything you like."

In spite of himself, in spite of the cold around him and behind him and in his own hand, he smiled. "Have I ever sung you the one with the mist flower and the sparrow?"

He heard you huff behind him. "That one again? You know how bad I am at hitting the notes in that!"

"Hmm, sure, sounds like an excuse to me…"

"Venti!"

He laughed and squeezed your hand again, as if to remind himself—you were here, and he was taking you home, and you would be able to feel the sun on your skin and taste wine from his cup in the way you had always loved. He would be able to write you songs and guide your hands across his lyre, and he need never stray far from your side.

You need never go somewhere where he couldn't follow.

"We're almost there," he said, resisting the urge to turn around to smile at you. "There's a bottle of wine waiting for us. It wouldn't do us any good to leave it for too long, you know?"

He squeezed your hand again, but you didn't respond.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat. His footsteps hastened, quicker and quicker until he was near-running towards where he knew the surface lay. Had he been tricked? Were you never there all along? Had you gotten lost, or fallen, or left, and left some other person in your stead?

Anxiety clutched at his heart like brambles, and Venti found his mind wandering back to those days with the wintery winds and the friends he had lost to the storms. Not again, he prayed, please, never again.

He ran until his legs ached, ran until the first drop of sunlight finally kissed his skin, and he let go of your hand to turn around—

—to see your face still shrouded in darkness, your eyes wide, your hand still reaching out for him.

"What?" he breathed, "No, please, I can't lose you again—"

You smiled, and though your teeth weren't coated in blood and your body was free from any wounds, Venti's heart had sunk even further than when he had caught you that day. 

"No, love, please, I'm sorry—"

"Venti," you said, "I'll see you again soon, okay?"

"Please—"

"I love you." 

With whatever time you had left, you reached out further to brush the tips of your fingers against his cheek. "Smile for me, okay? Sing me one last song…" 

And before he could reach out to you again, you had once again gone somewhere he couldn't reach. 

(Yours was a song he sang without end, even when all of Mondstadt had forgotten your name—and even when he felt like he didn't deserve to bear your memory. 

On days when he uncorked a bottle of cherry wine or caught the Acting Grandmaster's eye, Venti found himself staring down at the ring you had placed on his finger in those golden days—and if he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to it the way you had done to him, he swears he can still hear your laugh, warm and clear and bright.)

[ghostdrew22]

Déjà  vu? || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No Pairing: Draco Malfoy x ex!fem!reader Warnings: Idk if this is angsty or not because I initially thought it was but it feels a bit like soft sadness to me? Summary: Y/N getting deja vu as you watch Draco with his new girlfriend (H/N - her name)

WORDS : 1950

Lyrics from “Deja Vu” by Olivia Rodrigo (but I got lazy and only used certain parts)

~~~

Car rides to Malibu Strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two And tradin' jackets Laughin’ 'bout how small it looks on you (Ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha)

“Draco stop!” A voice exclaims before being followed by laughter. You know that you shouldn’t turn around, that it’ll hurt too much, but it’s been said many times that curiosity killed the cat.

He’s holding the very same ice cream order, strawberry and pistachio, and sporting that familiar warm smile that used to comfort you when you got a brain freeze from the ice cream. It had been your idea, ice cream in November, and he’d hated it at first but grew to love it just because it made you happy. That very same order that you’d made him try, strawberry and pistachio, but not for the two of you this time.

It’s difficult to know what you were expecting, something new? Different? A part of you had always known, even while you were the one in H/N’s position, that your moments with Draco would soon be documented and used for a modern remake. If your relationship had been a book, theirs is the movie adaption. If your relationship had been a song, theirs is a cover band’s rendition. Maybe, deep down, you were expecting just this- to see him treating her the same way that he’d treated you.

Those pale hands, that used to fit so comfortably in the expanse of your own, are now tucked safely in-between hers. Oceans of blue that used to run over your shivering figure every November when you made this exact Hogsmeade trip, are now tracing the lines of her face and committing them to memory. Lips, cold and slightly chapped, that were once coaxing laughter from your lungs with horrible puns and crude observations, are now completely and utterly consumed with the sole objective of entertaining her the very same way that they entertained you.

It’s a bitter sight, one would think, but you can’t bring yourself to be jealous. It’s an odd sort of feeling, deja vu, to know that once this moment belonged to you, and now you have to watch it play out in front of you. You know what’s going to happen, down to the footprints that’ll stain the path back to Hogwarts, but this time it’s not you. This time, even though you know what’s going to happen next, it’s not your laughter that’ll be filling the silence as he walks back to school.

Watching reruns of Glee Bein’ annoying, singin’ in harmony I bet she’s bragging to all her friends, saying you’re so unique, hmm

“Draco’s obsessed with this muggle show called Glee. He makes me sing along with him every time we watch it.” She says with a small laugh and a shy smile.

Why, in God’s name, did you decide to study in the library today? Sitting on the other side of the bookshelf behind you, with Millicent Bulstrode, is H/N.

“That’s horrendous.” Millicent replies with a laugh. Maybe if you’d tried harder to be friends with her then she would’ve told H/N that Draco used to do that with you too, that you’re the one who introduced him to muggle tv shows in the first place.

“It’s cute, he’s so… different.”

You swallow hard and try to pour your focus back into your books. That tone, sweet and infatuated, was the tone you used only months before when you spoke about him too. Once again you’re on the other side of the looking glass, staring back at a distorted reflection of yourself. It had been you bragging, drowning quite innocently in your adoration for him and feeling the need to sing your praises out to the world.

Way back when, you were the one forcing him to learn the lyrics to all of your favourite songs. The two of you would lose track of time singing along with the actors and complaining about the unnecessary drama, it was this little world that the two of you created. But now that world, that you built on love and trust, can no longer afford to accommodate you both. Now it’s his world with her.

Without even realising it you start to wonder how it must be when he’s with her. Does she sing off-key too? Does he pepper her with kisses after and make fun of her singing? Do they binge watch episodes or only do one at a time? Does his laugh still drown out the talking whenever something ridiculous happens? Is his favourite character still Sue?

How many pieces of your time together did he take from the puzzle, to form a new one with her?

So when you gonna tell her that we did that, too? She thinks it's special, but it's all reused That was our place, I found it first I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you

“This alcove is where I come when I want to be alone, no one really comes here.”

No one but me, you think to yourself as you stop in the hallway and overhear Draco whispering to her. Of course he took her to your alcove, why wouldn’t he?

A part of you wishes that he’d tell her that it was you who found this spot, that it was you who’d trudged along the castle one night in a desperate search for some peace and quiet. You want her to know that this was your safe space, that you were the one who invited him there and allowed him to relish in the safety that it provided. It was you who laced your fingers together with his own and dragged him behind you until you’d landed in the spot, you who had to listen to his complaints about how small and cramped it was until he finally got comfortable and fell in love with it. You were the one he used to wrap his arms around and make promises to in the silence of the night, when nothing beside the two of you existed in that alcove.

It’s all blurring together, then and now are nothing but two sides of the same rusted coin. How can you possibly distinguish between your memories and reality when the boundaries keep crossing?

You almost want to laugh at how identical your relationship was to the one they have now. Jokes that you came up with in the sludge of sleepiness, when the two of you used to hide out here on nights when you both felt sad, are now being repeated into the very same air that you breathed only months ago. Promises that you’d both agreed to back then, are being remade in the safety of the night that now belongs to them.

“I love you.”

And

“Forever.”

Are being whispered between the two of them, assurances and pacts to be together till the end of time.

But now you wonder, how long is forever?

Do you get déjà vu when she’s with you? Do you get déjà  vu? (Ah), hmm Do you get déjà vu, huh?

The smell of toast and freshly scrambled eggs wafts through the Great Hall and you struggle to resist the urge to moan out in excitement. Breakfast is your favourite meal and, really, the only meal that’s worth anything. As you plop down in your seat and start to pack your plate in your food you fail to notice, in your sheer joy, that Draco’s sitting across from you with H/N by his side.

It’s not until you’re done piling up your favourites, like an Olympic gold medalist in training, that you notice the couple sat across from you. You observe discreetly as Draco outstretches his hand all over the table to get whatever she wants to eat, and you have to struggle to focus as a wave of déjà vu washes over you.

When had you stopped being the one he arranged plates for? When had he started saving a spot beside him for her, and not you? Literally you know that the answer is roughly around 3 or 4 months ago when the two of you had broken up, but he’d stopped being yours a long time before then and you’d both known it. Little moments of love, that had been the basis of your relationship, had fizzled out into distant memories way before you’d both decided to call it quits.

“Butter or jam, Y/N?”

You’re about to answer, on instinct really, when you realise that he’s not even speaking to you.

But he said your name. Didn’t he?

Do you call her, almost say my name? ‘Cause let’s be honest, we kinda do sound the same Another actress I hate to think that I was just your type

“It was mortifying!” You exclaim as you recount the events of earlier to your best friend.

“How bad could it have possibly been?” She asks with a laugh as she settles into your bed comfortably.

“He looked her dead in the eyes, and called her ‘Y/N’, and to make it one hundred times worse, I was sitting across from them when he did it so they both immediately turned to look at me!” You cry out in embarrassment as you drop your face in a pillow. “I’ve never prayed so hard for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.” You mumble against the fabric and you hear her laugh again.

“Why are you so embarrassed? It wasn’t your mistake.”

“It’s not about that, it’s about how easy it would’ve been for us to return to our roles as boyfriend and girlfriend. I almost answered him!” You sigh. “It’s been what? 3? 4 months? And my mouth still acts on muscle memory. We’re so familiar to each other that we still act on instinct.”

“Are you sure it’s not just because your names sound so similar?” She raises her eyebrows at you and you scoff. “Really? Y/N and H/N sound nothing alike?”

“Nope, not at all.”

“Okay, if you say so.” She shrugs, “But deep down I think all three of you know that there’s more similarities present than you’d like to account for.”

You huff in response and cross your arms. Is she right? Does Draco have a type?

Even worse, are you just Draco’s type? Nothing more and nothing less than just another girl who ticks all of his favourite boxes?

I know you get déjà  vu I know you get déjà  vu I know you get déjà vu

It’s on one morning, on one of your good mornings, that it happens.

Months of watching the two of them recreate the love that you’d had with him, suffering in silence and scolding yourself for thinking such awful things about them, finally come to a halt when you receive the acknowledgment that you’ve been so desperately craving.

She walks onto platform 9 and 3/4 in a dress, a purple dress that looks eerily similar to the one you’d worn two years before on this exact platform. She’s smiling brightly, excited for the new school year, and Draco’s waiting for her by the door with a smile that’s just as bright. When his eyes catch her own and she slips her hand into his, he stumbles backward in shock slightly. He immediately looks away from her and searches the crowd, scanning over people climbing into the train and saying goodbye to their families, in a desperate attempt to find you.

It’s too much for him, to see her standing before him and looking like a replica of you, and he needs some sort confirmation to know that he’s not imagining this similarity. The dress wraps around her waist the same way that yours had wrapped around your own waist, and it compliments her skin in a way that’s hauntingly memorable. He knows that he’s seen all of this before, and he knows that it wasn’t with her.

You’re standing a few paces away from the door, watching the scene unfold, and when his ocean blues finally meet yours, you know.

He smiles at you, the first time he’s done so since you broke up, and mouthes exactly what the two of you need to hear.

“Déjà vu.”

And then it’s over- the moment, the agony, the months of confusion- it’s all packed up into a neat box and stored away. He turns with her and they walk into the train together, happily.

You remember this, being the one in her position and walking by his side. You remember the feeling of utter joy that had consumed you, it’s all the same really.

But maybe this time when he promises forever, he’ll mean it.

~~~

This was meant to be way angstier but I got lazy and ended up just wanting to write it out before I ran out of love for the idea.

Anyway, I kind of like it...

love you all,

jean <3

[lovesgonnabe]

Love Is Worth It - Mini Episode I: Happy Mothers Day

Characters: Chris Evans x Maya Alonso-Evans (Black OFC)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, cursing,daddy kink, fake IG Post.

Word Count: IDK Yet(Soon)

Summary: What happens when there is a surprise on the Horizon?

AN/Disclaimer: There’s only slight edits so there may be errors. Also if you haven’t noticed this series will have many time jump things referenced here may make more sense later on in the series when new episodes come out so please bear with me.

Taglist: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss, @canadian-girl87, @i-just-like-fanfics, @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful​ if you would like to join the taglist let me know.

Please leave a note and tell me what you think!

May 9th, 2021

Boston was moving from chilly too warm with still more cold days than not. Boston at this time was beautiful even The Evans home was littered with flowers. The beginning of 2021 has been eventful for the Evans Family.

Chris's A Starting Point has taken off like no one had expected, doing incredible number in educating a whole generation on one of Chris’s passions politics and the world.

While Maya within the few months has launched her skincare line Lavish Lilah Skin, and has been able to open back up her dermatology offices with the slowing down of the current devastating pandemic.

This Mothers Day for the family of 3 was different but the same at the same time.

Maya's Birthday has just passed, Chris filming schedule will pick up in the Summer and for the last year Delilah has been homeschooled.

With work picking up for the couple May 9th was a beautiful day for the Evans to just relax and be together as a family.

Its 9 am and Maya was sprawled in the middle of their California King Bed as Chris and Delilah were in the downstairs getting Maya's Mothers Day Gift ready.

"Ok Lilah you've got mommy's gifts and I've got the food you ready?" Chris asked with the tray in his hand.

Delilah nodded and they headed up the steps to the master bedroom the 5 year old ran up too the room first leaving Chris in her dust.

"Mom wake up its Mommy Day" Delilah said trying to climb the large bed.

Maya began to stir awake with a smirk on her face when she heard her baby girl struggle to to get up on the bed.

Delilah hooped on the outerman at the front of the bed and climbed to her mom laying up on Chris's said of the bed.

Delilah began to play with Maya's face.

"mommy get up me and daddy have gifs" Delilah said trying to open Maya's eyes with her little fingers.

Maya breaks out into a laugh now completely awake and pulling Delilah into a big hug kissing her all over the face.

When Chris walked in his two favorite girls were both laughing their heads off the sunlight in the room glowed on their golden skin as their smiling faces brought a bright smile to his.

"Are you two having fun without me" Chris asked as he walked to Maya's side of the bed.

Chris lays the tray on the night stand, pecking Maya on the lips mumbling a sweet Happy Mothers Day against her lips as he pulls her into a deeper kiss just enjoying the taste of her sinful lips.

When they pull away Maya moves over to make room for Chris in their large bed.

Delilah and Chris handed over the gifts to Maya, it wasn't a lot just some small things a card made by Maya from her zoom arts class, a mini breakfast in bed and more flowers *like she needed anymore*.

"Sweetheart I told you that you didn't have to do anything for me for Mothers Day especially everything you have done for me recently" Maya said taking sip from her coffee mug.

Chris chuckles thinking about the last few months, and he has been what you would call a rockstar husband.

With the pandemic Chris has been home a lot more he dropped a film he planned to star in and went full throttle on ASP which kept him home a lot making him kind of a stay home dad.

Chris did everything from some cooking to cleaning to school with Delilah. Him staying home was not only for him to do ASP and spend more time with his family but to let Maya work and bring her employess back so she can get her dermotobly practice back to as close to 100% as she can during a pandemic.

Not only that Chris hosted a surprise launch party/brithday party for Maya's new skincare venture in early April that was a small get together with all there closest friends and family (that were vaccinated). Even flying her parents who they haven’t seen in a year out to see them. (who were still in town and staying out in their guest home)

The three were still sitting in bed watching cartoons.

"My love if you thought today would go by and I would not celebrate you then you are out of your mind" Chris said kissing Maya's head.

The last four months have really shown Chris how much he admires Maya because everything he has been doing is what Maya has been doing since Dede was born.

So at least for today Chris was pulling out the red carpet for love of his life, after an hour of just lazying around Chris grabbed a now napping Delilah and told maya that she need to be dressed and ready to leave the house by 1pm which was 2 hours from the current time.

When 1pm hit the Evans and the Alonsos were out of the house and all in Maya's Truck.

They drove the 3 hours to the Alonso Family Estate in Martha's Vineyard and with Maya having absolutely no idea where they were going she grew antsy because unbeknownst to everyone in the car except her mother Maya was now Pregnant with her and Chris's second child and she was afraid she was going to have an accident in the car.

Maya was about 16 weeks how she has hide being pregnant from Chris for that long is a surprise and a miracle on its own.

However she just wanted to wait until she was absolutly sure that she could carry a complete trimester before telling anyone but her mom because her and Chris have tried 5 times after Delilah and has miscarred everytime.

All that faliure takes a toll not only on your body but on your psyche and she didn’t want to keep getting Chris's hopes up to keep failing him.

Even though he has been there through it all to hold her when she cries thinking about it or pick her up from the pool of blood in the middle of the night he was there holding her hand, but the of how many more times will he be able to do this with her still creeps in the back of Maya's mind.

Her mom's reassuring smile kept her calm while Chris and Maya held hands the entire ride up as they rolled up around 5pm to the estate that had multiply cars in the driveway.

When they walked in Maya's Brothers were both there along with Chris's parents, siblings and their kids.

Chris explained to Maya that with the kids out of school they all decided to being summer vacation a bit early.

As the night went on the all talked, laughed, ate good food and enjoyed each others company as one huge blended family.

It was coming up around 7pm it was golden hour outside and Maya knew for some reason it was time to tell Chris.

As Maya walked outside closet to the horses her mom followed.

"May baby cakes its time you can't live in fear forever" handing the ultrasound she kept in her purse and walking back into the house Maya took a deep breath as she sipped on her water and looked at sun hint the vinyard in the most majestic way.

"Maya you ok your mom wanted me to come and check in on you" Chris asked walking next to Maya who bit her lip which she did whenever she was nervous.

"Babe whats wrong" Chris knew something wasn't right the her body langague was and Chris could read his wife.

Maya tightly gripped the ultrasoud and turned toward Chris looking into his ocean blue eyes made her weak at the knees but she needed to focus.

She handed him the photo

"For the last 16 weeks or so I haven't found a way to tell that we are pregant and I guess this is it I am sorry I waited so long" Maya Says.

She smirks trying to keep it light hearted and Chris Smiles not even taking enough time to really process the new information with tears in his eye picking up Maya who squeals as he spins her around.

"I hope you know I knew already” he says putting her down leaving his arms around her waist.

"What do you mean you knew" Maya asked as her eyebrows frowned as she looked up at him.

"You underestimate how well I know your body" Chris says rubbing his hands up and down the curves of her body till her reached her ass giving it a good squeeze.

"Also you definitely did not hide this ultrasound that well so when I did first have hunch you had already confirmed it to me without even knowing it" Chris said.

He gave Maya his trademark smile and kissed his wife like his life depended on it.

"why didn’t you tell me you knew" she asked breaking the sweet embrace of the two lovers.

"the same reason you didn't I know that with you even though I hate it, some times I need to just watch from the sideline before you can put me in coach, but next time please do wait this long" Chris said.

Maya eyebrow raised "who said there will be a next time you better be lucky you are even getting 2 out of me sir" she said.

Chris laughs "thats what your mouth is saying now we will see what it says later when you riding papi's cock" He said kissing her lips even harder as they fought for domanice.

They knew both of there families were inside and thats why they stopped and just stood enjoying each others company.

"lets take a picture babe for memories" Chris said.

They pulled apart and Maya laughed .

"Chris look at you trying to take flicks for the gram" Maya said posing next to her favorite horse.

Chris took the picture and put it on his instagram along with a picture of Maya when she was pregnant with Delilah.

Chris laughed grapped her hand and they walked inside and told everyone the good news.

This will definaly be a Mothers Day they would never forget!

[mxvladdy]

Ey, could you make food source reactions for Mammon & Levi like you did with the others?

I've read it like 3 times now, they're all so sweet and believable you did a great job!

You got it Fam! Glad you like them so much lol. (I got a lot more angsty with Mammon than I thought I would but I love him sooooo)

Mammon

This poor man. He gets to spend so little time alone with you. He has to make every second count. Between the hustling, modeling, and running from Lucifer, he’s a pretty busy guy. 

So he plans date nights. Just you, him, and his leather couch. Ya ain’t goin’ nowhere, ya hear? He looks forward to this every month. He pins it on his calendar too just so he doesn’t double book himself. 

Now, don’t get me wrong. Just cause he plans this doesn’t mean he necessarily has a plan. Not that you care. Most of his activities turn into trouble anyway, even when he is not trying.  

 Sometimes he teaches you how to play cards (also shows you human ways to cheat-just in case you need it). The hours are spent pleasantly sitting in his lap while he teaches you how to count cards.

But, most nights, he just wants to talk. He enjoys his time with you. You and him cuddling and chatting away the hours before passing out for the night. 

He has a lot of things he wants to know about you. To him, he feels like if he knows you better than the other brothers he’s won. 

Won what? Idk, your affection? Approval? He already has it, but he is insecure about his place in your heart regardless. 

This evening starts out like any other. Mammon dashing to the kitchens to pilfer some snacks and drinks before Beel can steal them all, and you bring your cute self over to his room. 

You two toss back a few drinks and spend some time looking over his latest photo shoots before going on to the main event. Tonight you brought one of your favorite human card games. It was like 20 questions, but some questions were more risque than others. Was it meant for more than two players? Yes, but whatever- Mammon wants to play it so you are.

You both are relaxed and drowsy by the time you start playing. Your stomachs are full of junk, and the morning moons are just on the horizon. It’s the perfect mixture for loose lips and secrets, before falling asleep in each other's arms. 

You pick easy cards first, jumping from silly innocent questions to one that made him blush from ear to ear. The hours pass quickly and Mammon’s answers become more slurred and accented as he tires out. 

He was on the verge of sleep when you ask,  “What’s your favorite dish?” 

It was a slip of the tongue, a long-lost memory pulled up from the dregs of his exhausted mind. He remembers a savory dish Barbatos use to make way back when. He can still smell the savory smoky spices mixing with the fresh vegetables and meat- Oh shit.

He feels you stiffen and he ain’t sleepy anymore, that’s for sure. Immediately up and apologizes. He stumbles over himself in his haste to explain himself. 

You spend the rest of the evening with him in your arms trying to comfort him as he tearfully swears he hasn’t eaten a person in a couple of hundred years. 

Mini Fic

He regrets it the moment the words slip out. His sleepy remark hangs out in the chilly air of his room. He feels you jerk in his arms as if punched. “Shit! I-I didn’t mean.” Mouth agape, he backtracks, tongue working faster than his overtaxed brain. He looks down at your head on his chest. 

Your eyes are wide. Their surprise reflected in the bright blue moonlight. His heart sinks to his stomach. Gods, he ruined it. “I’m sorry- I.”  Pushing you off of his chest he goes to grab his shirt and redress, ignoring the prickling heat growing at the corner of his eyes. He could sleep somewhere else tonight. You could have the room if you wanted, or at least give you a minute to flee in terror from the demon that masqueraded as your friend. He can’t look at you. Hells, he was too ashamed to even glance in your direction. What kind of idiot let’s slip that? They even had a council meeting about this very thing before you arrived. 

So lost in his panic he doesn’t notice you trying to get his attention. It wasn’t until you forcefully grab his arm did he hear you. “It’s ok Mammon.” You engulf him in your warm and comforting scent. Strong arms dragging him back to the crumpled sheets of his bed. Your soft fingers wipe at the silent tears streaking down his cheeks. 

He dislodges himself from your light grasp to rub at his own eyes. “How can ya’ say that?” Where was your sense of self-preservation? Ain’t humans supposed to be aware of such dangers? The irony wasn’t lost on him though. Being your ‘protector’ and all.

You shuffle closer, hellbent on comforting. His pack mark hums gently on his chest when you touch it. As much as his body wanted to run, your pact mark cemented him to his seat. He sits while you fuss over him slowly breathing through his mouth to calm his racing heart. He can’t help but drift closer to you when he feels your hand on the top of his head. When had he become so weak for you? 

“Well-How can I not?” You shrug. He closes his eyes when you start ruffling his fringe. “You’ve been nothing but sweet to me. Yes, you have,” You cut him off firmly before he can object. “Always my number one anyway.” That pulls a wet chuckle from your demon. His eyes clear up at your admission. “I trust you Mammon, honestly. I mean, I kinda knew that you’ve probably eaten a human or two in your life. Knowing, and knowing are more different than I thought.” 

 Mammon cages you in his arms, his nose brushing along your neck and jawline. “Damn-.” He huffs covering you in his warm body, arms tight around your sides. “I’m sorry. I ruined tonight.” Mammon sighs into your skin. 

You hug him back. “Nonsense, if you want to get technical I think you won this game. I can’t top that answer.” You push away with a wide yawn. “Now can we go back to bed?” With a nod, he flops over pulling you down with him. You bully your way into his arms again. Sighing constantly you snuggle in for the night, ready to drift off. His eyelids began to feel heavy again too. Your soft weight on him like a security blanket. He listens to your slowly beating heart, matching his breathing to yours. The rhythmic thumps working to calm him better than his noise machine. He basks in your presence, rubbing his broad hand down your back for a moment before you speak again.

“Hey, Mammon.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Do you think I would taste good?” 

Leviathan 

Awkward boy. Of course, he has had his fair share of humans. Not particularly his favorite through. A lot of the time it wasn’t on purpose. His demon form is big and sometimes more than just fish and other demons get swallowed up. Course when that happened, they weren’t exactly fresh either. Bleh-just thinking about it makes his stomach turn. 

No, he never got a taste for it, even when it was served in the royal palace. The memories of the sea are still pretty vivid. It never really crosses his mind anymore. Till you bring it up.

He invites you over for a game night. A new VR game he had been saving up for just dropped and he had to play it with you.

It was a horror stealth game. Heavy on critical thinking and solving puzzles in real-time.

Your two characters were on a race against time against a flesh eating cult that had invaded a small village. He thought it was a fun concept and you both liked horror games. He didn’t notice how quiet you had gotten until you had set your controller down. 

You ask during a loading screen after a pretty graphic cut scene of a npc getting caught. How realistic was that cut scene? Had he ever eaten a human before?

Boy is a brighter pink than Ruri-chan’s signature outfit (and twice as cute lbr) 

He gets so flustered that he misses the start of the next round and gets you both eaten. 

He doesn’t take conflict well. Like at all. He much rather slink off into his fish tank and hide than answer you. In fact, that sounds like an excellent idea.  

He slithers back out of his tank hours later thinking you had left or found a better brother to hang out with. Yucky people eaters like him aren’t good company for humans. 

You jump him the minute his feet are back on solid ground. Have an answer now you must! Yrssss. 

Mini Fic

“L-Let go!” Levi shrieks, caught in your sneak attack. He locks up when you jump him, all four of your limbs wrapping around his soaking body like an octopus. 

“No!” You squeeze him harder taking full advantage of the fact that he won’t remove you himself. You feel the heat of his blush through his soaked clothes as you cling closer. If he could blush any harder you were pretty sure steam would be wafting off of him. 

“Why do you want to know anyway?” He wiggles gently, trying to loosen your tight grip. 

“Morbid curiosity.” Well, at least you were honest. He was still going to say no, you didn’t need to know that about him. He opens his mouth to shut you down but makes the mistake of looking at you. The words die when he catches the pout growing on your face. Oh no- his one weakness. Your way your lower lip pops out adorably, accompanied by slightly puffed-out cheeks. It was a one-two punch to his defenses. 

“I-they weren’t on purpose.” He pleads. Nevermore in his life did he wish he could turn into a mist-like his brother. He feels you slip off of him. Your bare feet don’t make a sound on his carpeted floor. “It just happened sometimes.” He admits. You accept it for a few seconds before his words fully hit you.

“Wait? How do you accidentally eat someone?” You ask incredulously. “All though- that’s something Beel might do.” You ponder the logistics and step back to give him some space.

He rights himself, wicking the moisture from his coat and pants with magic until he is completely dry again. You start asking a dozen more questions in rapid fire. It was enough to make his head spin. You were too curious for your own good. “Ever heard of basking whales?”  

You blink. 

Levi sighs and waves a hand to himself.  “When I lived in the ocean… I’m big ya know. I kinda would just open my mouth and swallow. Whatever I caught I ate.” He waits for you to get the jest. Most of the time it was smaller fish and aquatic mammals. When a demon encroached on his territory he would eat them too. The dead were meant for his army, but sometimes they got sucked into.

Instead of nodding in understatement, you cover your mouth with the palm of your hand and snort. His eyes grow big and his blush turns brighter. You were spending way too much time with Asmo. “No-Not like that!” His flailing only makes you laugh harder. Great, as if he didn’t want to die of embarrassment already.

“Well word it better, nerd.” You laugh retreating back to the mound of pillows you claimed for gaming, VR headset in hand. “Come on, we have to start over now- thanks to someone.”

“You started it!” Levi shoots back grabbing up his gear as well. He fiddles with it for a moment before glancing back at you. You were oblivious to inner turmoil over this admission. A naval admiral was one thing. Humans had them too, that wasn’t too much for you to comprehend. Being a devil was easy enough to understand too, at least in his mind. But eating people? Shouldn’t you be more concerned? “So-that’s it?”

You look up questioningly. “What’s it?” 

He raises a purple brow. “You have nothing else to say? I just admitted to eating people!” 

“Not really.” You shrug. “I can’t get too pressed about it. It’s not like you are human. I’m like what-at the bottom of the food chain to you, right?” Levi nods. “See! So no point stressing over it. ‘Sides, you haven’t munched on me yet.” You turn your attention back to the screen, flicking your controller to wake his flat-screen back up. “Unless~” He gulps at the sly eyebrow wiggle you throw at him, the shit eating grin that accompanied it only made him worry.  “Perhaps you just have an appetite for seamen.” 

Your peals of laughter mix with his shrill yelps of objection, as he tackles you. His previous worries were completely forgotten by your teasing.