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#fate has chosen. — answered
stars-in-a-jam-jar · 12 days
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I don't think Buddy asks Helio any questions.
Kristen asked 'Why do bad things happen to good people?' because she believed in all the good things she was taught, but noticed the strange disconnect between the world as it was and the world as it was taught to her. So she thought, surely, if I can't come up with the answer, Helio will have it. And she hates him for dodging her question.
Buddy is far more deluded than Kristen ever was. And he is far, far angrier inside as a result, even if he deliberately conceals this fact from himself to protect himself from the inevitable mental breakdown this would cause. Buddy is not as altruistic and giving and caring as Kristen is. He wouldn't question why he was betrayed or dig into a question like 'Why do bad things happen to good people?' Those aren't the answers he needs, because of course he'd be betrayed by someone outside the church, that makes perfect sense. Of course bad things happen to good people, we simply live in a fallen world.
Or, well. He used to live in a fallen world. Now he's dead here. In Helio's divine domain.
I think Buddy, as he wanders through fields of corn to the big farmhouse where Helio is chilling out, privately thinks about the fact that Kristen Applebees' horrified expression was the last thing he ever saw before a sharp pain in his throat. I think Buddy assumes Helio knows he's thinking this and apologizes for bringing thoughts like that into paradise. I think he thanks Helio for recognizing his devotion and bringing him here once he died and dutifully deceives himself about his own rising emotions at contending with the fact that he's dead now.
After all, he was raised to die. He was raised to want to die.
To want to be here with his god whenever it was he called Buddy to him. So he doesn't feel upset, no, of course not. He's just a little surprised at how sudden it was. (How completely random. How unceremonious and unfair.) He's a little bit worried how his grandparents would react to the news is all. (He cracks a joke that maybe he'll see them here shortly after they do get the news. He doesn't laugh at it.) He had his own plans for how he'd spread the good word in life, but of course, Helio had other plans. (Nothing Buddy ever wanted really mattered. He knew that, he knew the will of Helio was the real thing that mattered, and everything else was just a small list of preapproved extracurriculars in the syllabus of his life.)
He can't be upset about this.
He shouldn't be upset about this.
This is his reward.
This place and these people and this god are his reward for a life of service and devotion and walking in the light.
It's not his place to be upset about his own reward. Kristen got upset when she went to heaven, when she met Helio, and look where that got her.
Look... look where that got her.
He thinks he hates her. For looking at him like that. All the ways she looked at him. Like he was something pitiful and contemptible. Someone she needed to threaten away from her little brother. Someone she has to double and triple check if he's going to revive her when he's under magical oath to do just that or lose his connection to a divinity she threw away after being chosen.
And then. In that last moment, she looked at him and he saw grief and horror and caring. Like his death was awful and unfair and tragic.
And he thinks maybe he hates her for that. For challenging him every conversation they had and looking at him like she knew something he didn't. Like she was above him. Like killing your own god twice in life is a preferable fate to living for the promise of eternal sunlight and cornbread in death. A promise which was kept to him.
Kristen was promised to Helio, too.
And he can't unsee her face. He can't move along and focus on what truly matters (Helio, the church, spreading the word, doling out divine punishment when needed) because he's reached the end. There is nothing left. Only this bright sunny cornfield and a god who... is nice. And who cares about him, personally. He got Buddy's name wrong the first and only time they held audience.
He thinks he hates Kristen, and he hates that that hatred isn't immediately squashed out of his soul just by being here. In paradise. Where he belongs. Where every follower of Helio belongs. Where he never has to have anyone look at him the way Kristen did ever again.
I don't think Buddy Dawn asks Helio any questions. Because how do you ask the god you devoted every waking minute of your life to, 'Why do I hate it here? Why does this feel like hell?'
(There's a part 2 now that the next ep is out >:3)
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jaybirbie · 9 months
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With the official crowning of the Infinite Realms new King. Fright Knight can finally retire. Thousands of years he has waited for this moment, to finally rest.
But first he must find a suitable replacement for his new king whom he had admittedly grown fond of.
But Whom?
The answer was quite simple. Just as he had been trained long ago to prepare for his potential fate. Having been bestowed the duty by his own ancestor. Who had been chosen herself by the previous, on and so forth.
His bloodline, an heir. He was sure it held strong. Protecting their doorways and preparing for the next Chosen weilder of the Soul Shredder, protector of the High King.
The Next Fright Knight.
After informing his new King of his temporary leave. He entered the Royal Library to follow along his family tree and remind himself of the name he had long since been summoned away from.
AL GHUL.
And from the looks of his descendants only one met the criteria he was searching for.
18, Male ( his time around his new King had certainly been enough to gleam where his..interests lie and being the same age should help smooth the reaction of his new King when he finds out)
If you are to be soul bound to one enother for the rest of your existence, it is a benefit to appeal to one another afterall.
Now, he must simply shred the soul of Damian Wayne and bind him to the sword.
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neteyamsilly · 1 year
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 5
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summary ;; What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? PART 4 | PART 6 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; jake is so depressing here. i also took liberty with his character and the reasonings for his decisions in atwow, sorry in case if thats not how you see him LMAO happy reading 💞 please excuse my mistakes if you see any! ‼ I DONT TAKE TAG REQUESTS ANYMORE ‼
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“One chance, Jakesuli. You will only have one chance. Use it well. Our Great Mother favors you, that we know. But this favor hasn’t been granted to you. It has been granted to my granddaughter.”
“I won’t fail.” Not again. 
“What does failing mean, I wonder. Would you fail if you take her soul back from her happiest? Or would you fail if you let her have the peace our Great Mother has laid her into?” 
“I will get my daughter back. This isn’t her time. If Eywa has given me this chance, then she thinks the same as me.”
“You will take that honor from her, then?” Mo’at was being cryptic, but Jake saw through the exterior of the neutral Tsahik into an exhausted, mourning grandmother. “She was the daughter of Toruk Makto, and he was her last shadow.”
It came back to Jake in a gut-churning realization, it was his shadow that had fallen over you from the light of the torches on the walls as you’d given your last breath. It was his shadow. “No,” he refused, adamantly. “She will get to achieve greater honors of her own than that. I won’t be the one defining her ending.” The last bead of your songcord having his name, Toruk Makto’s name, was supremely wrong to him. He would not accept this fate for you. 
“Very well, then.” Secretly, she was pleased with him. With his answer. “Get going. As I said. One chance.”  
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Jake would never be able to get used to the magnificence that was Vitraya Ramunong, or, the Tree of Souls. To him, Pandora itself was a marvel already too good to be true that he’d fallen in love with, and abandoned his own race for, there was no getting used to the beauty for a human like him who’d only found it once in neon lights, ever. He could reach the end of his natural lifespan in this body and still there would be much left to discover. That’s why Jake was more vulnerable to one of the beating hearts of Eywa in the shape of a giant, glowing willow tree. 
No Na’vi was immune to the soul-purifying, all-consuming, yet being-dwarfing peace enveloping one’s very spirit, in a cradling hug as if they were nothing but a newborn in their mother’s arms. In here, only one fact mattered: they were childrens of Eywa, all of them dear, all of them seen, all of them safe and sound, including him, once alien to Eywa the way Earth was related to Pandora. Everything spoke to him here in a language he didn’t understand, but could respond to, again, in a language he didn’t understand, his soul doing the communicating. 
Jake was also a child here, Eywa’s chosen child. 
And he had come to her door for the most difficult request of his life, feeling like he was asking his mother for money right after he had crashed their car, unable to look her in the eye and expecting the biggest of scoldings for his shamelessness. 
This was nothing like asking for her assistance against the sky people, back then, he had agency, power, the clans backing him up, Toruk. If Eywa didn’t hear him, he would fight until the last drop of blood in his body was spent anyway, he was ready.
Now, he had nothing. 
Nothing to offer in return, not one concrete reason as to why he should have his daughter back other than being a desperate father with nowhere to return to other than the mercy of the Great Mother. He just wanted his child. Nothing mattered. 
Not how and why Quaritch had spawned right under his nose with an avatar body, not how they could even slither in without detection, not the threat of what the sky people could bring upon their heads with that — nothing, not now. Nothing mattered until he saw this through. 
Jake had found the will to quite literally tear himself from your side like nail from flesh only when you’d stabilized enough. Stabilized, as in, the faintest rise and fall of your ribcage Neteyam had to stare from where he was sitting like a sentinel for a full minute to spot, a tideless, still ocean only moving with whiffs of wind, his own breathing unnoticeable — to match yours, or to silence the sounds in his own body to hear better, Jake didn’t know. 
No sky person was allowed to take over from Mo’at and Kiri. Norm had told Jake none of this made sense, if the bullet had nicked the bowels enough and the dirt leaked into the bloodstream, the possibility of sepsis was eventual, and if it didn’t, you had bled too much anyway, a blood transfusion was necessary, and the internal organs... — Christ, the amount of bad end scenarios Jake had been subjected to was as if they were telling him to open a grave for you anyway. Tsahik had scoffed into their faces. The way of healing was something none of them would see, she had scoffed. Now ally, or not. You can’t fill a cup that’s already full. Jake was in a hopeless need for water into wine kind of miracle, and honestly, he wasn’t complaining. 
Leaving High Camp behind to set off on a journey calling for only him was one of the hardest things he’d done yet, the silhouette of you lying motionless, his family scattered around the tent, shadowed in their own mourning, folded into themselves was burned into his mind, glimpses of their pain visible from eclipses of light occasionally falling on their faces. A sight he never wanted to see again in his life if he could help it. It was a frosted, iron-thorned hand squishing his heart into ground meat. 
Tuk, ever the stingy monopolizer, had brought her favorite toys to scatter around you because she thought they’d comfort you the way they comforted her, had tried snuggling with your unconscious body and was warned by Kiri only to hold your hand instead. She had taken to playing with your fingers, the depressive gloom of years beyond her age crooked on her. Jake couldn’t stand the sight of the little girl telling you bedtime stories he and Neytiri used to, for a moment only, he could pretend you were just going along with your sister’s whims and smiling with your eyes closed as you listened. 
Kiri, buzzing around to change the bandage-leaves that soaked up some sort of sickly black colored puss every couple hours, had explained to him the salve they used on you was getting the infection and the splinters of the bullet they couldn’t get out of your body, which had turned the color of your blood into that — but the thing was, given the dwelling of the woodsprite in your mouth, they couldn’t feed you the porridge-like mix to speed up the process of blood production in the bone marrow, and she was exerting herself looking for some other way. 
Before he’d left the tent for good, she had handed him the bullet— or, the biggest piece of it they’d taken out of your body, it was a mere pursed and shriveled, tiny metal. The exhausted girl had stammered when explaining that whatever they’d hit you with, had broken into shards inside you upon impact, creating severe lacerations and lethal hemorrhage that they’d worked tirelessly to pick out.
Jake had stared hollowly at it for the longest time. This small thing. It was such a small thing that took you from him. 
The sentence that sent you away was also as small, and damning as this bullet. ‘Go.’   
Kiri had seen it sink in his face, closing her five-fingered hand on his palm, on the bullet. “You should get going, dad,” she’d said. “We’re okay here.”
Jake had taken one last look. At Neytiri wiping your body to clean all the congealed blood. At Tuk holding your hand. At Kiri trying to fill in shoes bigger than her feet. At you lying down with trinkets surrounding you like funeral flowers. And forced his body to keep moving when all he wanted to do was stay. 
He’d then heard Lo’ak complaining to his older brother outside the tent, “How can he be so cold?” The heaviness was getting to the boy, agitated and misapprehending. But he was always this way, if something was out of his control, the inability to act to change it manifested as frustration, blind anger. “Why is he so… unresponsive? Emotionless?”
Jake would have let it slide had it been about something else, but his children running their mouths not knowing he was a hair's breadth away from going clinically insane had gotten to him. He was burning alive. 
“You think I don’t care, boy?” He emerged from the tent like some last boss, initially not caring he’d scared the brothers. “You think I don’t feel at all? My own child dying in the same arms I used to hold her as a baby — you think that doesn’t faze me?”
Neteyam, the mediator, or rather, the blame-taker, ran to his little brother’s rescue, the latter too flabbergasted to form any words yet. “Dad, he doesn’t mean—”
“I know exactly what he means.” When the anger subsided, Jake sighed with the weariness of an ancient man. The flames had died before they could climb, he was too exhausted for it. Honesty and trust, as Neytiri had said. 
Having lost everything, having nothing to lose, and having a lot to lose were somehow simultaneously the same thing to Jake in the predicament he’d found himself in. “I know how you see me. You only know me as the person I want to show you.” 
Lo’ak’s go-to answer was presented to Jake on a silver platter. “Sorry, sir.”
It wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. Jake wasn’t trying to get Lo’ak to bow his head. “Don’t apologize—” He cut himself short, licking his chapped lips, and after rubbing his face, he’d put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Lo’ak. Son. I feel this, alright? Of course I do. I’m your father.” He shook him gently, feeling the words weren’t reaching him, who was just staring at something on the ground off to the side. “There’s no greater pain a parent can go through in life than losing his child. You can’t understand what this means right now—what it’s doing to me. You will only know when you become a father yourself.” He gently tapped Lo’ak on the chin so he would raise his head and look at him in the eye already. And when he did, Jake said what he said slowly, hoarsely. “But know this. Know I will lose myself if I lose you, or any of your siblings.” He turned to Neteyam as well, who was watching in full alert mode. “I’m fighting not to lose my sanity as we speak.”
Lo’ak swallowed, unsure and weirded out to hear something like this for the first time in his life. Jake didn’t blame him. He was never emotionally upfront or honest before, not even used to it, more awkward with it than his boys were. But none of that mattered. Not anymore, after what happened to you because of his shortcomings. “You just look so composed—“
“I have to be.” Jake shook his head, eyelids hanging heavy, his whole head was heavy. “I just can’t crumble under it, do you understand? I have to be strong. I can’t lose myself in it. Your sister needs me. You need me. To be strong.” He took his hands off the boy’s shoulders, putting a palm on his cheek and patting a few, fatherly times before backing off altogether. “Never say that I don’t care. Never. I might not show it—and it’s a father’s duty not to show it, so my family will have a stable anchor. Get what I’m saying?” 
Lo’ak looked reassured, lighter. So that’s what Neytiri had meant. “How… how can I help?”
His youngest son’s inclination to get to the root of the problem and pump out solutions was in consanguineous with his inability to stop and wait, uncomfortable in his skin when he couldn’t do anything to improve the situation and was confronted with the intimacy of having to feel, always wanting to act. Lo’ak was like Jake in that way. Awkward when it came to communication. Dishonest with themselves.  
“Stay here.” Jake said, right from his heart. “Stay safe. I don’t wish for anything else in this world.”
Lo’ak’s eyes softened, and as the father, Jake felt the renewal of the bond between them, saw the understanding in his youngest son, saw something else than the guilt and regret over being caught after mischief, for once. “I’m sorry, dad.”
“Don’t apologize.” He shared a meaningful look with him, trying to convey, again, his apology wasn’t what he wanted. Yet, his sons were defaulted to saying sorry half the time they spoke to him nowadays. Jake was understanding the severity of it, too much too late. Lo’ak nodded, ears tipped down slightly.
Then he turned to the eldest. “Neteyam—”
But he opened his mouth before Jake could say anything else. Ready. Always on his feet. “Yes, I will—”
Jake clicked his tongue. “Rest.”
Neteyam was about to say yes to whatever he was told to do, as always, but stopped right in the middle of it, voice catching in his throat, eyes blinking in confusion. “What?”
“Rest.” 
“But—”
“Rest, Neteyam, I won’t tell you again.”
God knows he needed it. Neteyam looked like he’d been having night terrors for days, accumulated anxiety making him jumpy. “Sorry, sir.”
“Stop—“ Jake caught himself before he could raise his voice. “Why are you apologizing?”
Neteyam didn’t talk for a while. But when he did, he was looking up at him underneath his lashes, unable to keep eye contact for more than two seconds. “It’s my fault.”
“Bro,” Lo’ak said, a pitiful objection.
Jake knew where this was going. “What is?” 
“I should have been there.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line before furrowing his brow, closing his eyes. Jake knew what he was seeing, repeated over and over again in his mind. “I should have known right away when I couldn’t catch up to her. I could have prevented it. It’s my responsibility.” One tear slipped by as he hung his head. “My fault.”
There it is.
Jake had told him before. “You’re the older brother, you gotta act like it.” — even though you and him were more like affable twins than older brother and younger sister that he never had to explicitly be a guardian to you like he was to Lo’ak, he had to be thinking this was his biggest failure. Neteyam was just reflecting what he’d been taught, the standards his father was holding him up to. Of course the boy had been overthinking it to the point where he was the catalyst to the event by not predicting your fakeout. 
“No,” Jake rasped, after a beat. “This is on me first, and the sky people who got to her second. And that’s the end of the story.”
Neteyam, up until this point, had to bear half the blame, if not the rest of it, for the consequences of his siblings’ actions. Upon receiving this kind of answer, he startled with an incredulous gasp and full stare at Jake. “But I—”
“It’s not about you, Neteyam,” Jake explained, although the words were harsh, he had done his best to soften the impact. “I did this. Blame me, okay?”
‘How could I?’ was written in neon letters over the boy’s head even if he didn’t say anything. Too good-natured. He idolized Jake a lot more than the man deserved. “Mother was… she was… She is grieving, she doesn’t mean it.”
“You gotta stop making excuses for people, boy. Especially when they’re in the right.” A smile pulled on his lips, but died as it was born. “I pushed and pushed until we reached the edge, thinking there was never an edge at all. I should have known better. I should have been better. This is between me and your sister, and that’s why it is me who has to go to the Tree of Souls.” 
And he’d left, but not before pulling his boys into his chest, cradling the back of their heads against himself, the smell of home repulsing instead of comforting. Prickles on his skin was the comfort he got from being able to hug his children when you were absent. It didn’t feel right. 
He missed you dearly, an aching, gaping hole in his very being that only grew larger as he saw what you left behind half-completed or messy like you’d stood up and gone off for a minute to come back to it later — 
The unmade pallet from the night of your Iknimaya argument that Jake had shed tears on when he’d seen the state of it, having the signs of someone getting up from it like you would be returning to go back to sleep any second.
The unfinished bark plate you had set aside to eat later and fought Lo’ak not to touch it. a squabble Jake had to break before you started wasting food by throwing it at each other. 
The stack of fruits you’d gathered that you never shared except for Neytiri sometimes. 
The half-carved cup you were working on because the regular cups weren’t big enough for your water needs and you didn’t like to refill it about three times until you were satisfied. 
The incomplete anklet you were making out of rainbow beads for Tuk that was confidential to everyone but Jake, who knew from observing you, of course — you were missing a couple colors that you just couldn’t seem to find, nagging his head off to just let you roam around farther and there was no danger as the sky people couldn’t get in the vortex.  
The little animal doodles you scratched at your side of the tent when you couldn’t sleep at nights, waking Jake up in the process every single time to listen until your breathing evened out as sleep retook you in its arms again, because he was bodily programmed to startle awake at one single rustle in his living quarters from his Marine days and fell into old habits after the return of the sky people, he knew you had developed insomnia from being uncomfortable at High Camp, longing for your hammock cocooned in the safety and comfort of the forest.
And the dumb romance novels you had taken from the humans that you, Kiri and Tuk giggled about at girl’s nights reading out loud, Spider invited as an honorary guest at times, just so you could tease Kiri about him and annoy your brothers that they weren’t allowed in, but the human boy was. 
All of them had no owner now. Neither of your family members could look at them, your ghost would appear in precious memories beside your belongings if they looked too much. He didn't need to concentrate for a phantom of you to appear, you were everywhere he looked, and even now, as the gently pulsating lavender humming, a song from Eywa herself, right underneath the veinlike, labyrinthine roots was the cool summer rain on Jake’s sizzling skin, all he could see was your first communion with Eywa in his arms while Neytiri formed the tsaheylu, the clan spread all around them in celebration. 
“You’ve called, and I’ve answered,” he greeted in positivity. “I think this is the most direct you’ve been with me in a long while.”
He didn’t know if it was Eywa or you he was saying this to. He genuinely didn’t know. 
Kneeling, and putting his arms on the mossy, thick root, he looked up to see the woodsprites swaying and floating in the air. He reached for his braid, letting the squirming nerve-endings coil around the white-cored lavender thread closest to him, taking in the presence of Eywa, all around yet nowhere at all, but listening. No sign of you. Was he supposed to talk like this? Just like this? Was he not allowed to see you? 
Jake had to admit he had been harboring the tiniest expectation of meeting you somehow, or hearing your voice through the connection like he did with a Tree of Voices when Mo’at had cryptically informed him of his chance. But this was it? 
If he failed, this would be it. 
“I guess this isn’t all that different,” he said out loud, instead of thinking inwards where the confusion flew. “It’s been like this for a while now, you and I. You talk, I don’t hear you. I talk, you don’t hear me. We throw the same ball at each other only for it to bounce back. Monologuing to a tree is the same thing, except it doesn’t talk back like you do.” 
He looked up and around, there was nothing else to do. The air was the same as it always was in here. Always accommodating to what each Na’vi found comforting. “The last time I came here like this was to ask for Eywa’s help in the last stand against sky people. I told her I would fight either way, I knew that’s why she’d chosen me. All my life, all I’ve done was fight. Even when I wasn’t able to, I was fighting lesser battles with the excuse of not having anything to fight for. It’s all I’ve known. All I’ve ever done. It’s what I was best at.” His brow twitched, and Jake tried to keep his composure, not because he didn’t want anybody to see, no, it was to keep his shit together so he didn’t fuck this up. He had to be honest. His pride was the last thing he needed in his way at the moment. 
“You were born to a different man. To a changed man. To a father who could let go because he thought his family was safe. You got to meet the man I used to be when my reason for fighting came back from my star. I know you don’t like that person — you can’t — couldn’t get used to him. I know.” 
From the discomfort, his fingers dug into the moss first, and found the bark of the root, his fist curling on it next. “But I had to keep fighting.” He softly brought his fist back on the root. “The strong prey on the weak, that’s just how things are. That’s how I had it on my star. And my kids — you, you are weak, and it’s not an insult — it’s not me criticizing, Jesus, you are just children, and there’s a war on your damn heads. That’s what I mean. That’s what I’ve always meant. It’s natural that you are weak, Eywa was kind enough to let you be soft. Not Earth, though, never Earth.” 
Jake had to clench his teeth and bite the anger into the inside of his mouth to not be boiled alive — not to let it reach to your side. He let out a soundless snarl. “You would never be ready for the cruelty of Earth, I would never wish that upon any of you. But it was brought to you. Right at your doorstep. I couldn’t protect you from it by hugs and kisses. You wouldn’t be safe from a gun extended to you by extending a branch in return. No.” 
He reached and caressed the glowing thread, brows furrowed. “I did what I thought was right to prepare you. Every single one of you. I was making you tough. I had to. To protect you. And of course there would be clashing along the way, it’s what happens between parent and child. We fight. We fight like cats and dogs for dominance. You try me to show strength. I stand my ground to let you know you gotta do better.” 
He had fired those sentences with incoherent speed, and when he got to the end of it, Jake got choked up. Stopped for a moment, took a breath. Blinking several times, his tone became vulnerable, he didn’t have anyone in front of him, but he tore away his gaze anyway. “Somewhere along the way, things just… Without me noticing, everything…” He sighed through his nose, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I fought more battles than I fought for my family. I thought I was doing my job as a father when I didn’t even know shit about being a father.” 
A couple seconds floated by, and his gaze was stolen by a lone woodsprite descending down until it staggered on the fist he had against the root. The shine of it reflected from the mistiness of his eyes. His lower lip slightly trembled at the thought of it being you. This little woodsprite. You? 
“The thing is, I’m lost, sweetheart,” he admitted quietly, small, shaky, not taking his eyes off the woodsprite. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I sit here, I look back, and think why I keep fighting. We could have migrated. Looked for a new Hometree. Another forest. Left the humans alone. Or made peace. A treaty. Something. None of your lives had to be sullied by war. Yet I chose this. I chose to fight, as I ‘ve always done, because now I had something to fight for. And the fighting wasn’t limited to them, I fought Neteyam, I fought Lo’ak, I fought you, my own kids, and I didn’t even know.” 
He reached for it with his other hand, tentatively, scared that it would fly away with the slightest contact. But he was able to touch the top of the woodsprite ever so slightly, the little zap making all the hair on his body stand up. Jake swallowed thickly, his whole head on fire. “I don’t know what to do. I just miss you. I miss you so much, sweet girl. I wish you would scream at me. Say you hate me for all I care. Anything. Hate me until the day you die, but do it with all of your family surrounding you in old age, in peace. I would be content knowing you are under the same sky as me. But I’m forgetting your voice already, and I—” He held back a violent sob, hissed to not let it out, and groaned, getting angry at himself for the emotions. He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the tears. “I wish I could say these to your face. I wish I could see you one last time, smiling at me.”
Having everything to lose. Having lost everything. Having nothing to lose. Three different meanings had coiled around each other like snakes to become one singular outcome in linear relation of cause-and-effect through you. It wasn’t a cycle.
Having something to fight for. Having nothing left to fight for. Having nothing to fight for. You were everything. Everything. What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? 
“I see you.”
The voice — your voice, albeit much, much younger, almost made him jump. When his eyes shot open, Jake was in a different location. He knew this place. The creek away from the village he and his family often frequented. 
The twilight penumbra of the eclipse dimmed the shadows embracing the forest, but the ethereally glowing lights of all colors illuminated and got reflected from the water as if it was a mirror. Above and all around him were lazily dancing fireflies — or, rather, bioluminescent bugs he didn’t know the names of, tiny stars floating in the air like glitter. It was magical.
Jake realized with aching melancholy that this was the first time he’d taken you out on an eclipse to show you the beauty of the forest on a special father-daughter date. The exact memory.  
The breath that left him was shaky as he felt the presence sitting right beside him, in the corner of his vision, he saw the ripples on the shining water made by swinging legs. 
Jake froze for a second. Unmoving. Not looking at all — because if this was a dream, or a hallucination, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His breathing got louder, more labored, the log underneath his hands was so realistically textured and damp. If he looked. If he looked, you would disappear. That’s how he felt. 
He was supposed to talk. But now, his ribcage was holding the words hostage, burning with the strain of the pile-up. 
“But I’m sad you don’t see me,” you said, and he was shaken by hearing your voice yet again, remembering the moment he found himself here, how he’d heard — ‘I see you’. “You don’t even want to look at me.”
So much hurt and vulnerability in that sentence that it left him breathless. 
It all happened in a matter of seconds. Him launched into his own turmoil racking his brain about how Quaritch was back as an avatar, ignoring to look at you to protect his composure and just trying to think, think — think, of a plan, of a how, of what to do. You calling after him once Neytiri, you and he arrived at High Camp after dodging Quaritch’s men. Him purposefully walking away because he needed to cool off and not to explode on you right there and there.  
That whole time, Jake hadn’t looked at you. If he did, he would have seen you needed help.
He shattered, all of his walls crumbling down, stripped down to bare despair. 
“Oh sweetheart.” Before he knew it, he had wrapped his arms around you in a crushing hug, basically snatching you off from where you were sitting and on his lap, and your warmth, your pulse, your tangible existence wrenched a shiver out of him — and he buried his face to the little crook of your neck, taking your scent in, hiding his trembling face and the quiver of his arms by holding you tight. You were here. As your younger self, no older than eight, but he had you. Not bloody and battered in his arms, but alive, so alive. “Oh sweet girl, my sweet girl… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed the side of your head, felt the real tickle of your hair against his face, blessed with the soothe of his child’s smell. “I see you. Of course I see you. I’ve always seen you.” 
The snowflake-frail snivel followed by your sobbing sniffle broke his heart into pieces. “You’re a liar.” He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “You’re mean to me. You’re so mean to me.”
“I’m sorry.” That was all he could say. All he could do with his thrashing soul smoldering at the wetness of your tears on his shoulder. “I am mean. I’m sorry… You’re right, I’m sorry.” 
“It hurt so much.” You wailed. “It hurt a lot.” 
Jake began to caress your head with an awkward, clumsy, panicked hand, disturbed as to if you meant the moment of your death — at him pressing on the wound with all he had to stop the bleeding, or he and your strained relationship in general. “I know, sweetheart,” he said anyway, a stone clogging his throat. He didn’t try to explain, or tell you why, didn’t argue that it wasn’t what he meant to do. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had you in his arms. “I know. I know.” 
You wouldn’t get to be younger than this. And maybe, he would never get to see you be older, either. The thought crumpled his face like some piece of paper. Jake just wanted to hold you. And when you wrapped your little arms around him too, freely crying in his arms, a couple tears escaped his eyes as well, he didn’t know what kind of face he was making, perhaps it was better that you didn’t see him crumble. 
In the middle of it somewhere, he realized that you were younger because it was your inner child that needed this, she was more honest — more open with Jake. It caused him to sway with you back and forth, ribcage hurting with each breath. And you let it all out, clinging to him. 
“I love you, always,” he whispered, watching the bioluminescent bugs, when you were calmer and had fallen silent on his chest, not wanting to let him go and just listening to his heartbeat. “Even if I don’t show it — especially when I don’t show it. You are loved, my sweet girl, more than you know. More than you’ll ever know. More than I can show.” He looked down at the top of your head, agonized. “But I want to try. I want to show you more, moving forward.”
Knowing what he was insinuating, “But it’s nice here,” you said, voice thick and coarse from crying. You still didn’t pull back to look at him. Both of you, from the start of this, never looked at one another. Not once. Embarrassed and shameful to be honest, Jake thought. That pride you two shared. “You’re not mean to me here.”
But he needed to see you. You needed to be seen. So, as gently as he could, he unwrapped your arms around him, and took your baby cheeks in his hands, and looked you in the eyes. Another tear slipped from him. “You been listenin’ to me, right sweetheart? From the start?” You nodded adorably. You wouldn’t have said oel ngati kameie and accepted to let him see you if you hadn’t felt his true intentions and heart through him pouring it all out at the Tree of Souls. “I’m hiding a lot of things. But I want to be open with you. You wanna know the secret why I’m… mean?” You nodded again, more reluctant this time. “It’s because I’m scared.”
You gasped, genuinely lost and shocked, and he tried not to smile at the purity, the innocence. “You? You’re scared?”
“All the damn time,” he whispered, landing a kiss on your temple, his opposite thumb tracing a loving line on your other temple. “Every day. Every night.”
“But you’re Toruk Makto. You’re never scared.”
“I’m also a dad,” he said sorrowfully, as if he was giving out a secret. “And it’s precisely why I’m scared. I’m scared for you. For your siblings. Of losing you. It turns into anger. Anger turns into irreparable damage. Things I can’t take back.”
In the blink of an eye, you were back to your real age. For some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, you had shed the exterior of your childhood. But he didn’t mind, didn’t let you off his lap. 
“Don’t be scared, I’m here,” you said, putting your own small palm on his cheek, upset by the fact that he was feeling like that in the first place rather than whatever explanation he had. Your response was also childish, but he leaned into your touch anyway, comforted regardless, even if you were already gone — for this moment, he could ignore that no, you weren’t here at all. “If you told us, we would have been more careful not to make you sad.” 
Ah, he was being lectured on communication by his kid. It had a certain flavor of humbleness to it. Jake adored it nonetheless. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry. I won’t be mean anymore.”
“That’s a lie.”
Jake couldn’t stop the laugh, though it was tottering. “Yeah, it is. But I promise you that I’ll never hurt you again.”
“That’s a lie too. Wasn’t it you who said not to make promises you can’t keep?”
“Alright, smartypants, let me rephrase it then,” the little glimpses of your brash self made him happy. “I will never intentionally hurt you, and if I end up doing so, unknowingly, I will always make it up to you. No exceptions.” 
You were acting uninterested, but stole intrigued glances at him. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”
“I’ll let you choose, how does that sound?” Jake tapped your nose. “In return, if I don’t know and haven’t taken the first step, you’ll have to tell me outright what I did.”
You deadpanned. “But I always do.”
“No, you don’t.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “You become passive-aggressive when you’re annoyed and pick fights with me.”
“That’s not—”
“Sweetheart.” 
“Okay, fine.” You huffed. The normalcy had made him forget just what he was doing here. “But you get angry.”
“What I get angry at is—” He cut himself off with a tongue click. “Not important. I do get angry. But at sincere honesty, us just talking it out, I could never get angry at that. Is the difference clear?”
“I think it is.” You were apprehensive about something, your fingers on his neck flexing as if you wanted to pull them back and break the hug. “But you have to promise.”
“I promise.” And then, Jake remembered, a new fire hardening his face, not in anger, but determination. “And speaking of which. I would never. Ever. Not in a million years would get angry or blame you for getting hurt to that degree — for others, humans, avatars, whoever and whatever the hell they are, hurting you, I could never get mad at you for it. Do you understand me? Your safety is the most important to me. I could never hate you for it.” His voice dropped down to a softer, gentler tone just above a whisper. “There is nothing in this world that’ll make me hate you. Nothing. I will love you through the most heinous crimes and in inexcusable deeds, you will find forgiveness in me even if there’s nobody left, that’s a father’s heart. Forever and always, I am with you.” He touched his forehead, and then yours. “I see you.”
You avoided eye contact. 
Ah, yes, the famous emotional awkwardness. He was sort of aware his feelings had reached you, you just didn’t know what to say. Jake hadn’t been like this with you for the longest time. So, he decided to make you more comfortable. “Yes I will get mad at you for breaking curfew, and yes, we might stop talking for a while and beef about the dumbest things if the fight is too intense — but always, always come to me when something is wrong. I will drop everything without hesitation.” He leaned in a bit to catch your wayward stare. “Got it?”
You murmured. “Okay.”
“Are we clear?”
You murmured once more. “Yeah.”
“Repeat it, then.”
There was something between cringing and unwillingness on your face, but at his pointed look, you sighed, giving in. “Always come to you if something’s wrong even if we’re fighting.”
“That’s right,” he affirmed, encouraging to let you know this wasn’t embarrassing. “What else?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Dad will always love you.” He nudged you, noting the flick of your ears in happiness when he’d said it. “Come on, say it.”
You didn’t look at him when you said it, but your voice was light. “Dad will always love me…”
“Dad will never hate you.”
Sheepishness took over, making Jake smile. “Dad will never hate me.”
“And. Come talk to me about it if I’ve ever hurt you without noticing so I can make it up to you.”
“Always go to you if I’m hurt and you’re unaware of it.”
“That’s right,” in this form as well, he gave your temple another kiss, heart soaring at your beautiful smile he had been dying to see. “Good girl.”
“You’re giving me a lot of power.” 
“Nothing my mighty hunter can’t handle.” 
The smile on your face died down. It came to Jake right away what had gone wrong. “Sweetheart—” “I didn’t mean that. You know—” But you didn’t know. Jake had to stop trying to make it easier on himself. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. About everything. About the ikran, I’m so goddamn proud. I said it, and I can’t take that back, I was angry and I was trying reverse psychology — you know what, it doesn’t matter. But you are my mighty hunter. Will always be.”
You got confident a bit, but were still testing the waters. “Well I proved I am.”
“Yes, you did,” he rejoiced, no rejection or doubt whatsoever. “Message received, Lima Charlie.”
You giggled freely, joyfully at the recognition, and Jake ached again remembering how much he’d missed that carefree, precious thing, he swore pixie dust was in it. You slipped from his lap to sit crossed-legged beside him, and he instantly missed being able to hold you close. “Wish you were there to see me.”
“Me too, sweet girl.” Your Iknimaya was a disaster. A long-passed, sacred tradition broken wasn’t as important to him as it was to Neytiri — but he knew she longed to see you complete it, by your side, as eagerly as he did. And you had been alone in your pride, when he knew from a very young age, you had been the most excited for it. Everything had been ruined and there was nothing he could do to undo it. “Will you tell me about it?”
The phantom of pensiveness on his face hadn’t quite registered with you yet, getting excited to tell him all about it like nothing had happened the moment you knew Jake wanted to know. As if you weren’t dead. As if nothing was wrong. “Well first of all, I broke Neteyam’s record.”
A mournful smile tugged on his lips. “Did you now?”
“Hell yeah!” You started gesturing with your arms. “It took, like, two minutes? One minute? Too easy.”
“You know easy means the ikran didn’t give you much of a fight, right?”
“Or, or.” One finger was raised up at him to raise another option. “I was too skilled.” 
“The ikran might have been meh about you.” Jake teased. “You sure it chose you? Or did you just chase it down and it was stuck with you?”
“That’s so wrong!” He threw his head back to laugh at your outburst. “He was watching me get there the whole time! Like, from the start. His eye was on me, I just know it. You’re just jealous you didn’t get Bob like I got Jack. I was badass.”
That made him pause. “Jack?”
“Yeah, his name’s Jack.”
He couldn’t imagine Neytiri’s reaction to the blandest name imaginable, oh god. “Why?”
“Named him after you.” You tipped your head at him, raising your brows. “It’s healing, you know. He listens to me without questioning. He’s also very sweet. Unlike a certain someone.” 
“Oh you little shit—” 
“I didn’t say anything.” Raising your hands in defense first, you crossed your arms on your chest next. “Certain someone can mean anyone. It can mean Lo’jack—”
“Lo’jack, really? Really?” Jake half-snorted, half-scoffed. “This a new one after Lovak?”
“Jackiri—”
“Jackiri is pretty sweet, c’mon now,” he gave a blank stare. “Hope you’re not gonna say Jackeyam.”
“Jacktirey?” You asked, undecided. “She’s an anklebiter.”
“Oh, for sure.” 
“Could be Jack the Ripper, Bojack Horseman, Jack-in-a-box. Jack-o-lantern.”
“All people, of course.”
“Yeah, all people.” You snapped your fingers in mock-remembrance. “Hit the road Jack.” 
“Oh wow, even him?” Jake lowered his voice, leaning towards you, mocking astonishment. “Legendary figure, that guy.”
“Jack of All Trades.”
“Well, that ikran really seems to be one to me.”
“I know, right?” You stopped, and he saw that thought process, and before he could open his mouth, you blurted it out. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”
“You punk.” Jake pushed you lightly by your shoulder. “You’re pushin’ it.”
You smiled with all your teeth at him, with hands on your calves, leaning down to act cute, and Jake could pretend this was normal. That he’d fixed everything. And all was right in the world now that you were laughing with him — he’d made you smile. . 
But suddenly you looked scared, looking at something over his shoulder, shrunken pupils focusing on him and whatever it was rapidly. It kicked him awake from his delusion. He tensed, tail jumping upwards, straight as a rod. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”
Your breath hitched, and the next thing he knew, you had pushed him away, and he was falling towards the water. The last thing he saw was only a blur of you — the bioluminescent bugs became shooting stars with a thread of glow left behind them, the whole world tilted, but he didn’t hit the water, instead, he rolled down the small slope he had to climb to reach the tree. 
Disoriented, he saw the root was almost split in half — bullet marks, a cloud of splinters and debris was flying around where he used to be sitting. 
A lone avatar just ahead. Having made it all the way to the Tree of Souls. He didn’t know where this man had come from. 
Heart picking up and roaring in his ears, all Jake could think about was, One chance. 
He hadn’t even spoken to you properly yet, hadn’t said all the things he wanted to, hadn't even gotten your word, and this man — this son of a bitch — humans had taken you once again. 
Once again. 
You will only have one chance. 
“Lucky asshole,” the man looked at him behind the barrel of the long assault rifle. “Gonna make you pay for what you pulled yesterday.”
Your ethereal smile going up in smokes at the back of his head, Jake saw red.  
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ozzgin · 1 month
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Can I have yandere Aka Manto x Reader? I see you write Japanese myths, cuz why not?
Yandere! Urban Legend x Reader [Aka Manto]
You never know when you're going to meet your soulmate. It could be on a beach at sunset, on the last bus home, in the elevator of an office building...Or in a public bathroom after you just finished your business. Nevertheless, this urban legend monster has its eyes on you now.
Content: gender neutral reader, urban legend, part horror part comedy, gore!, monster romance
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"Are you deaf? It's occupied!" you shout one final time, giving the door a swift kick to emphasize your presence. That's what you get for using a public restroom. Your coworkers had convinced you to try out another bar after the company dinner, and you might've had one too many cocktails. Thankfully most of the drinks were watered down, although it is exactly because of this detail that you're now hovering above a toilet seat with a full bladder. On a Friday night, in the partying neighborhood of the city, so it could explain the persistent stranger - possibly even drunker than you - who keeps rattling the lock of your stall.
To your horror, the handle begins to turn, and you hear a click. You scramble to get up and secure the door, but it's too late. With your pants halfway down, you gawk at the bizarre individual squeezing his way in: a tall figure wearing a red cloak and a mask. "What the Hell?" is all you can mumble to yourself, awkwardly gathering your garments in order to preserve your remaining ounce of dignity. Out of all the things to happen tonight...Alright, calm down. It's most likely a crackhead. You cast your eyes down and focus on the floor tiles, with patterns strategically chosen to hide as much grime as possible.
Pretty. Almost too pretty to kill. He might just take his time with you and savor the moment. Of course, you'll have to answer his question first. With bureaucratic efficiency, he pulls out two rolls of toilet paper and extends them to you. "The red one, or the blue one?" he asks with theatric gravity. What in the Avon samples Hell is this, you think, fidgeting nervously and avoiding any eye contact still. If you ignore him, he should lose interest.
A minute passes in heavy silence. His ghastly arms begin to tire, so he lowers them with a disappointed creak of the joints. "Y-you have to pick one", he insists. Damn it! Perhaps you've been told what to do if approached by mischievous spirits like him? Ignorance means you keep your head, though he was hoping for a gory night of entertainment. You can almost feel the intense stare coming from behind the eerie mask. The tension becomes unbearable, so you finally decide to push your luck. You will not spend the night stuck with a deranged pervert looming over you in a public bathroom.
Without further delay, you shove him aside and open the door. He lets out a surprised hum, observing your daring gesture and almost expecting you to run for your life. To his even greater shock, however, you stop to wash your hands with a relaxed whistle, completely unbothered by his presence. What happened to the fear, the terror, the dread? You peek at his reflection in the mirror, and your lips curl in a mocking grin. Maybe it's the alcohol finally hitting your nervous system, but all you see right now is a pathetic charlatan who tried to intimidate you with literal toilet paper. A good-for-nothing scoundrel interrupting the innocent from their much-needed bathroom break.
In fact, the more you consider your situation, the more your chest puffs with outrage and bravery. You pay your taxes, you help the needy, and this is how your civic deeds are rewarded? By having your stream cut midway? Unbelievable. Unacceptable. No other soul shall suffer your fate tonight. "Wretch!" you cry out, turning towards the aggressor and continuing your demands: "Evacuate the premises at once!"
You might not understand it yet, but your act of defiance has sealed your fate. The hooded monster smiles, relishing the words that have closed the gap between your fragile body and his blasphemous claws. You have spoken to him; thus, he can do with you as he desires. And yet, his murderous fingers hesitate. Your entrails should be splattered across the rarely polished porcelain by now. What's holding him back? He tilts his head in contemplation, but any intention to ponder his feelings is quickly discarded once a loud shriek pierces his ears.
As it turns out, someone else had been using the neighboring stall and was alerted by your little argument. Their finger is pointed at the cloaked creature, features twisted in disgust and fear. "Can't you tell we're busy?" The mysterious man inquires sarcastically. On second thought, this should be enough to satisfy his cravings.
With a snap of the fingers, the frightened bystander is torn apart by invisible hands right before your very eyes. Their limbs detach with surreal ease, and blood splatters everywhere in hot, sticky bursts. In your petrified daze, you are reminded of nature documentaries: blurry snippets of sharks trashing their victim around, fleshy chunks coming undone from the violent handling. Within seconds, the bathroom is quiet again. The walls and ceiling are drenched in fresh blood, and occasionally, fat droplets collapse into a puddle with resounding echo.
It all falls into place. The hooded creature claps its hands, startling you back into awareness. "That's what it was!", he says with enthusiasm. He approaches you with quiet steps, cushioned by the meaty remains coating the floor. He places one hand over the mask, removes it, and gives it a shake as if to clean off the crimson fluid. You involuntarily gaze at his face, taken aback by the handsome traits. Is this the appearance of a ruthless ghoul who butchers mortals for amusement? You wouldn't believe it if it wasn't for the hot trickle of foreign blood trailing your skin.
"I think I've fallen in love with you", he confesses with a wide, saw-toothed smile. You feel a clawed finger tracing your cheek affectionately. "Well? What're you so silent for? You were quite cheeky a moment ago!" he continues tauntingly, gripping your chin and forcing you to look up. "Or have you seen what happens when you misbehave? No, no, darling, I'd never! There are other ways in which I can ruin you."
You're suddenly very cold. With dry lips, you eventually open your mouth to speak: "I'm not leaving here, am I?"
"You could, but that would make me very upset."
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kaizokuou-ni-naru · 3 months
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What's your opinion on the idea of the "chosen one" trope, and how it relates to Luffy in particular? Most of the controversy I've seen over Gear 5 seems to be about that specifically.
this is a really interesting question, and one i had to mull over for a bit! i think the idea of a 'chosen one' or 'destiny' more broadly can reasonably rub a lot of people the wrong way, especially in a story where freedom is such a strong thematic focus- the idea that luffy's actions might be preordained and not driven by his own will feels inherently wrong. (fortunately, i don't think they are.)
the short answer is that i think the use of prophecy in one piece works (at least for me) because it never feels like anyone else is making luffy's decisions for him. this is why it feels somewhat incorrect to me to call him a 'chosen one'- he very much makes all his choices himself.
there are prophecies surrounding him- about joy boy, about the dawn of the world, about nika- but luffy doesn't know about them, and if he did he wouldn't care. they don't define anything about him, how he acts, how he views himself. the world and narrative shapes itself around luffy, and not the other way around. you get the sense that even in the total absence of any prophecy surrounding luffy, he would still be doing the exact same thing he is doing because he only ever does exactly what he wants to do. he's as inevitable as the rising sun! the future changes to fit him!
one piece generally rejects the concept of unchangeable fate out of hand- if you tell luffy something can't be done he'll take it as a personal challenge- but it does have a lot to say about inherited will. i think it would be more accurate to say that all the strawhats and their allies, luffy especially, have in some way come to embody the inherited will and dreams of the people who came before them, whether they know it or not, both through their own experiences and because of who they already were as people.
like, the prophecies about luffy don't say he's destined to become the pirate king, or anything so specific as that. he decided on his own that he was going to do that, and that has always been his goal- to be completely free and have those he cares about be completely free. that's what he values. and it just so happens that that trait makes him fit the image of the liberator.
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silkjade · 1 year
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alhaitham x mermaid! reader (2)
⤀ warnings: fem!reader, no pronouns mentioned a/n: recommended to read the previous part first, since this is a direct continuation next ノ series masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・𓇼
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For the past three weeks since your last encounter, alhaitham returns to the cove as usual, only to be met with no one. On the fourth week, he finally spots you lounging on a large rock, moonbathing under the pale light. The thought that it’s no wonder sailors are so easily enraptured, flits across his mind as he wades towards your rock.
It’s a shame that the moment your eyes meet, you dive back into the sea, the clear waters darkened under the blanket of night. He calls out your name only once, betting on the assumption that you’re still lurking close by. Sighing, he continues.
“I apologize for last time. I’d like to take you up on your offer.”
“… if it still stands of course,” he adds quickly.
There’s a hint of hesitance that lines alhaitham’s words, which is unusual for one normally so confident. Even more so, you notice he isn’t wearing his headphones— not over his ears nor around his neck. How interesting… perhaps you will surface.
“No ‘soundproof earpieces’ tonight?”
“They’d never last in the underwater pressure, so I’d really prefer if they at least stay intact for use on land.”
“And what if I decide to drown you right now? You wouldn’t be able to resist my song.”
It’s true, he probably wouldn’t. But logically speaking, a mermaid who’s chosen to aid him in perfecting his linguistics (multiple times), likely wouldn’t pose a huge threat. On the other hand, he did possibly offend you during your last meeting. In addition, mermaids were notoriously known to be headstrong and fickle as the sea itself. If that were truly the case…
“Then that would be bad luck for me.”
Always so cool, always so calm. The back of your fingers graze past his ear, tempting fate.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“No.”
To be honest, alhaitham isn’t sure if you’re somehow testing him, what with the way your voice comes out honey sweet to his ears. But his mind is clear and his resolve is strong. He just hopes it translates well to you, despite the slight waver in his hushed voice.
“I know what a kiss means to you humans…” you say, tracing your fingers down the side of his neck, stopping only to toy with the gem on his chest. It’s faint, but you can feel his heartbeat pick up. Blinking once, twice, you look up, holding his gaze, and repeat the question that had left a questionable mark on your correspondence. “Do you trust me?”
There’s no denying that alhaitham is a smart man; he’s learned from his mistake and knows how to answer this time around. Lifting your chin, he gently pulls you in and seals the distance between you with his lips. Your arms wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss, before sinking below the surface, effectively tugging him along, and sending him tumbling into the water with you.
The coldness of the ocean is worlds apart from the warm sumeru air. Alhaitham jerks away, expecting to feel the familiar sting in his nose, but it never comes and he finds himself breathing water like air. You grasp his hand, dragging him into a world unknown— at least to him. You will happily be his guide.
“Well come on. Enough floundering around, we’ve got lots to see.”
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After a night of swimming, alhaitham is absolutely exhausted by the time the two of you make it back to the little cove. Even with the ability to breathe underwater, his human body is still no match for the strong currents of the depths.
“I’ve always wondered why you call yourself feeble, but I see it now,” you tease.
He really only has the energy for a halfhearted retort. “Come to sumeru city, and then we’ll see.”
It’s a long pause before either of you speak again. Only the rolling of tides breaks the silence in the night.
“Do you mean it?” you ask softly, glancing at your tail. The remaining water droplets glisten under the full moon; you’d have a pair of legs once completely dry. Some of your kind yearned for the world above, but you’ve never quite understood the appeal until now.
“Mmm..” It’s a half conscious hum before drifting off to sleep against the cavern walls.
Behind some rocks lay his usual belongings which he had left hidden earlier in the night. You drape his strange half-cape over his sleeping form, recalling how humans tend to get cold easily in the sea breeze, especially while wet.
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“Hey, wake up. It’s noon.”
And so alhaitham opens his eyes to find your face hovering inches from his. Upon further inspection (and after blinking away the sleep from his eyes), he notices that not only has your tail been replaced with a pair of legs, but that you’re also… completely bare.
“What are you—”
Immediately, he turns his head away, choking on his words as a heated blush tints his face. With the reveal that you did in fact know the human implications of a kiss, he’s sure you also know what you’re currently doing as well. But for now… he swiftly gets up, tossing his cape in your direction. He’ll have to make a stop at port ormos to buy you some real clothing later.
It’s amusing, how a man so collected falters in the face of intimacy. With a sly grin, you cover your naked figure, though it quickly fades when you see him packing to leave the privacy of the cavern.
“H-hey help me up!”
“Oh? Feeling feeble, are we?”
a/n2: help i'm so invested in this au i'm probably going to do a third part, so send me an ask or just reply below if you'd like to be added to the series taglist ! thank you for reading ♡
© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform
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route-to-eutopia-if · 6 months
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Route to Eutopia - New WIP IF
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DEMO(28K) I CHARACTER DOSSIERS I PLAYLIST (TBA)
You have one year left to live.
But are you afraid of dying? Probably not. Since you don’t even know how to live your life. You have been hidden away from public eye since young. And the only friend you have is an Alter, humanoid species born to only serve other people and nothing else. Alters live so ‘people like you’ could live.
That makes the two of you. Alive. But never here. Never lived.
If opportunities arise, would you take a chance to change it? Only you can answer.
In a world where feeling nothing at all is better than letting your emotions rule over you, your choice to break those rules and make a change will paint a new shade of history that no one ever could. 
Hidden behind shut doors to live your quiet life as a secret child of Bastien Palmer, Sole Leader of Eutopia paradise, you never experience anything except for repeating the same old routine your entire life. You are the existence which should not be known, not just for the reason that you are the byproduct of your father and his secret lover. But also because of your frightening ‘Alter-like’ eye color, most of it is silver like any Stargaze–but nevertheless… tinted shamefully by crimson streaks.
You are told to stay away from public eyes for the sake of Palmer’s reputation in which you feel obliged to. However, your life of peaceful solitude will never be the same again after tonight…
Route to Eutopia is a violent dystopian loosely-conceptual interactive story where you are a bystander surrounded by The Chosen One of your own choice. You are to designate whether this story will head towards the direction of mutual peace between Alters– a human-like species believed to be plagued by uncured disease since birth– and Stargazers —a group of survivors whose ancestors once lived on a faraway planet before an inevitable disaster occurred and forced them to flee into another dimension, or towards a doom fate that cannot be reversible.
To be noted; RtE is a heavily-relationship based game (not necessarily in platonic/romantic sense) each of your interactions with any character will determine the tone and purpose of their motivation. Any choice you have chosen, make sure to embrace the consequences of your action at your own expense.
With that being said, it is also worth mentioning that you don’t need to engage into a romance or specific relationship with any character to complete the story.
RtE also rated 18+ for strong language, suggestive contents, disturbing topics such as racism, sexism, discrimination against queer people, explicit descriptions of violence, murders, drug use and sexual behaviors of certain characters with optional intercourse scenes.
Setting
RtE takes place in a post-apocalypse society where the concept of time is lost and any history known was only speculations at best and rumour at worst. Trying to maintain their sense of utopia, Stargazers built and operated their space colony as a temporary base for self-preservation (in which only fews know details about) called ‘Eutopia’. 
In this dystopian paradise people’s sole purpose of living was fixated on surviving. And in order to do that, the whole population creates a solid ground rule not to let themselves ‘feel’ about other emotions that do not serve for public favors. Hence, you will be challenged to adapt to several situations and handpick the best flavor of your actions based on the emotions you have learnt or developed from your surroundings.
Who do you play as?
For now, you will be playing as a secret child of Bastien Palmer, the leader of Stargazers who already has a wife and two other perfect children, your younger sister and brother. Ones you have never interacted with nor you ever get the chance to.
MCs subjectively considered a white sheet which you can paint anything on by your preferences. Explore the world full of colorful emotions or bottomless pit of numbness by your own choices. 
But remember, Eutopia is a place where everything goes according to one simple rule ‘To survive’ hence the marriage between a man and woman will be set as the norm and only truth, and someone who will state otherwise must face and suffer the ugliness of social standards accordingly. However, I do not encourage any transphobic/homophobic behavior of the characters in this story. Please kindly be assured of that.
There might be a chance where you can start off as other characters, that is, however, still a subject-to-change matter as of now.
Introduction to the Chosen Ones [ ROs]
**Please be aware of mild spoilers below**
Vegaris (M/F) 19 Star-crossed lovers or Nemesis route, The Rebel.
They would do anything to survive, even if it means to betray the only person who trusts them deeply… like you.
Vegaris is an Alter who has so many sides hidden behind closed doors. Unpredictable, cunning, hot and cold are the words that describe them best. Due to their traumatic childhood (much like other Alters on Eutopia), they have a deep-root hatred for Stargazers. Although they were brought in by your family and treated almost the same as one of your father’s own kids. They still witness the unfairness of being an Alter in society and never afraid to point the wrong in other people’s doings. 
Their usual mask, however, is one where you cannot crack open that easily. They always remain calm and composed in front of you, and only show their fangs when circumstances arise.
Dana/Darren Regency (M/F) 22 Childhood friends, Forbidden route, The Face.
For a person who seems to be easy to read as much as an open-book, they sure talk with silence better than with their own voice.
A poster girl/boy for Regency Academy. Your former childhood friend (for some unknown reason, they're trying their hardest to avoid you) and an only child to the Head of Deans at Regency, Sandalphon. They are the precise image of how one should raise a Stargazer. Being a honor student. A model citizen. And a perfect ideal partner. They are assigned to be married with the most capable genetic-wise fiancé. As popular as they appear to be to the public, their private life (as private as it can be) is still a gigantic loophole for most imprudent reporters trying to catch even just a glimpse.
It seems like what they are trying to avoid is not just you, but the entirety of Eutopia.
Sandalphon Regency (M/F) 40 Age-difference, Single-parent route, The Pacifist.
Do you believe in something just because it's true, or it becomes the truth only when you believe in it?
Sandalphon is the most powerful influence among the deans of Regency. A group of people that has control over governing matters even beyond that of Bastien Palmer, the President. For Sandal, they are anything and everything people could ever ask for in a Regency. Kind, generous, well-versed with every branch of knowledge in the universe. Never wrong in anything. And never judge anyone based on their bias.
If only people knew the truth, they’d probably beg to differ.
Maybe they are just good at hiding beneath that gentle facade, maybe a calculated mind with strings to pull works best with neutral suggestions... who knows?
One more hidden character will be revealed in the demo, Into the Madness route, The Savior.
[ Classified info. ]
**There will be two sub ROs and flings to be introduced later in the story.**
More info will be announced.
Demo 1st update : 24/01/2024 Chapter 1 (28k codes excluded)
Datalog is completed roughly til the end of the story. Coding and polishing will certainly take time. Any more updates will be announced solely on this blog.
Reblogging is appreciated. Thank you!
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vacayisland · 5 months
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@!; I love you. Floyd / Reader
"Summary"! "I love you" I always had and I always do. "Tags"! Floyd's POV. angst/hurt. This was more experimental in my writing so please enjoy and I accept any feedback you might have <3
@storydays @chamille-trash @valvalentine69
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Floyd stood in the crowd, surrounded by a hundred faces that he did not know. He stood under the starlight sky, silent and deserted as others' cheers flooded his ears and made him deaf. The lights from the stars, which could not shine as brightly as you, drowned his vision and made him blind. His voice was all but silent. His spirit all but drained as he stood there, not one with a crowd yet a husk in a body that he no longer knew was his. With a mind that tried to barricade the disappearance that tried to flood out in a crowd of faces he did not know. Floyd stood upon the crowd of faces that blurred, his eyes fixated not on them nor on you; For you shined too brightly for him to bear, too brightly for him to hold, too brightly for him to keep. Floyd stood upon the crowd of faces that didn’t care as the stars smiled down upon him with a taunting grin, a sickening grin that made his stomach heave and quelch. Floyd stood upon the crowd of blank faces, all screaming and shouting the name of a lover that couldn’t be, trying to remember how he ended up in this crowd. In this place, in this time, in this situation. His brain tried to search for an answer, any sort of sign from the sinister stars that did not help yet laughed upon his misfortune why? Why! He wanted to scream and cry out, shout until he could no longer do so, until he was hoarse and dead. Why did it have to be you, the one who was born with the kiss of the sun, who would rival the stars above you and make them envious, who could be everything and nothing at once. Who was he compared to you?
“Floyd this is madness!” Branch had cried to him once as he followed him, trying to convince him to change his mind, go back on the words he had just spoken, anything other than this. Other than this cruel fate. This cruel, cruel fate that someone should not bare let alone Floyd who has done so much for you! Yet Floyd would not listen, his heart set on the path he had chosen knowing it was the best for you; The best for a star that should not follow another that did not burn as brightly as you, who’s light had been dimmed far beyond repair. You deserved to dance with those who were like you, who burned as bright as you and who could dance alongside you without this gut stabbing remorse for even being near. No, no…. You shouldn’t be stuck with someone who is so burnt out that they will weigh you down, drown you until you're extinguished like a light that had never shone in the first place when you were the brightest of all. No, no… Floyd could possibly not do that to you. Never to you. For you were the light that lit his flame, burned his heart, and awakened his days. For you were the one dancing around his head, countlessly, as you sang songs above a love that Floyd desired for you and only you. A love he could not push you through. A love he could not burden you with, so what else could he have done other than to say… goodbye? “I wish we were to other people,” You used to dreamily say to Floyd upon summer nights, out on the cold green grass as fireflies danced around your heads like stars who had descended to grace you and only you. Never him, he didn’t deserve such beauty. “I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye, I wished I could stay by your side.” You had told Floyd with the dreamist of sighs, a smile upon your face that made him forget about the dancing stars and the moonlight sky. God you looked so beautiful tonight that it hurt Floyd, it hurt him so much. Countless men tried chasing you down, tried asking for your hand, tried to be yours and yet Floyd had always taken your attention.
Selfish; Is what chastised him in his mind as he watched your love-struck eyes mingle with his that did not deserve to gaze upon your beauty. Beauty that Floyd could not describe; could not justify into words as it left his mouth dry. You wished that you both were different people, in a different time, at a different place, but why? Floyd could never understand the reason why your heart burned like his for a man who could not live next to you. For a man who had fallen from grace and from heaven while you still danced above, singing with all that heaven has given you to bless the ears of this selfish, selfish man in front of you. “I do not wish the same,” Floyd had told you, his words coxed in honey to make you believe that his heart did not yearn as well for this time, that his heart did not beg for you to be with him constantly. Selfish, crude, monster-ish. The words rang in his head, banging against the walls and stabbing him through the heart over and over until he felt it bleed. Selfish. He had made you cry that night, tears running down your flushed cheeks like impure stains that should not have been near you. He shouldn’t have made you cry, you didn’t deserve to cry, yet he did so anyway. What a crude man, what a monstrous man to make a star cry.
To make you cry hurt Floyd more than denying his heart, which was broken and torn into pieces as he watched you leave with such disdain and despair that he was sure someone else could repair. Not him, never him; a selfish greedy man that stood upon the summer grass, who stood upon a crowd full of people he didn’t know, who once stood next to you and your heavenly throne. Selfish. Is a word Floyd never used lightly and he would be damned if he gave himself leeway this time, any time. Never has Floyd ever been so disgusted with himself like he had when he was around you, but it was never your fault; It could never be your fault, it was his own. A burden he carried that weighed him down until he could no longer stand it, thrashing about for a way to escape. For a way to stop the pain. Away. Away from you and away from what you two had become. Never again does he want to taint you with who he has become; diminished, a star with no light. How could you have ever stand being close to someone who could never burn as bright. And then he watched as he took your flame but all for a short time. You cried and screamed, shouting with frightening might one night, “You never loved me… You knew that I loved you and you used that!” Your brightness was now a flame, anger burned instead of beauty and Floyd was scared that he had soiled who you once were. “No,” He had barely croaked out, trying to watch his tone. Yet it was useless as your words were like a scorching stone. They bruised his hair, burned him with bruises too much to bare, and he sunk to the floor in despair. For he loved you so, yet knew you should never know. And now he stood, in a pit in his own despair, within a crowd with faces that could never compare. And you, you stood upon the stage with light so fair. And oh he loved you so, he would repeat the phrase a dozen or so times in his head for the only answer to ring back dead. For you had given him your heart, and he yours. “Be careful,” He had told you oh so long ago, “As you walk home.” For since that night, you had his heart captured and chained and you always gave it a start. For since that night, he knew who he loved and no one, yes no one, could ever replace that feeling he held all so dear. And you had been careful, just as he said. You had held onto his heart with the utmost care, with the utmost importance, and with the utmost love. You were tender and soft, you fed him love. Love that was simple and love that was fair, love that was sweet and could not compare. Love that was soft, and that will forever be there. Forever be there in the corners of his mind. Forever be there, as the stars turn him blind. He would never hope for this fate for you, as it’s too cruel to bear. He would hope you would forget about him and let time head its course, and like the stars patch the wound he had embedded upon your heart. He hoped you didn’t search for his face among the crowd or call out his name in the darkest of night. For you would see only a shadow and gain no response back and it would sully your heart, and he was sure it would make you sad.
Selfish.
The word came back to him, one last time, as he slowly existed the crowd of nameless faces, upon a dark summer night. He slowly backed away from his final chance to mend the heart you had gave to him, now broken and bruised and torn and cut. His final chance to make things right to tell you how much you’re loved.
“I love you, …” Would be the words that died on his lips that night, along with his heart and diminished light.
“I love you” Were the words he wanted to say as he wrapped you in a hug, as he hid you from the pain.
“I love you”, Never again would he burden you with the possibility of those words. For he was not the one to tell you them, he could not claim your heart.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I really do. For my heart was always yours, and your heart was always mine. We were stars, you see, at the start of the world. We were atoms next to each other, always compelled by force. I love you, I love you, oh I love you so. Please stay with me, let us make our hearts whole. I love you, I love you, I love you more… but the words died from his lips before he could even give them a start, a chance, a second of thought.
Maybe, if things were different.
Maybe in another life, if we were different people. Maybe you would be me and maybe I would be you. Maybe we would be lovers, maybe even friends. In every universe I’m sure I will find you and cure your ills.
Maybe I’ll finally get the courage to mend my weeping heart. Maybe I’ll finally get the courage to face the brightest star.
Making a wish is something I had told you to do before, “Maybe a wish my love,” I had said with a tease. Yet the shooting star had shot out too quickly, leaving you with a wishing dream. And now maybe it’s my time to look upon a shooting star and wish to tell you the words that were stuck in my heart:
“I love you,” Without a frightful start. Full and truly, with my whole chest and heart;
“I love you.” I always had and I always do. I was just too scared to tell you.
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.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 2 months
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*NSFW* I'm Alive (Yandere!Monster x GN!Reader)
CW: Dead Dove, dub-con, death, gore, inhuman anatomy, sexual non-sexual penetration, mind control, angst, you have been warned
Breathing hurt.
His entire body convulsed as he inhaled, the writhing mass that was his body cracked and groaned as it pulsed. He was once a man, though he no longer remembered much of his previous life. There was a torso emerging from the ball of flesh that was his lower half, and sometimes when he closed his eyes he could recall owning a pair of legs; but now he was just an abomination.
Trapped under the earth in what seemed to be the ruins of a temple or some kind of forgotten catacombs, he spent his days lying in a corner, eating the rats that came and tried to devour his body that reeked of decay.
Sometimes, he dreamt. There is a dream of a building called a "church", where a woman would clasp her hands together and speak to an invisible man. She called it prayer, and told him if he prays then her god will answer, but whenever he awoke and interlocked his red, skinless fingers together, the woman's god never granted him death.
Death never comes, nor does relief.
There was only rot, and pain, and rats.
Each and every day. He didn't know how he knew, because he hadn't seen the sun since becoming a monster, but he knew that there was such thing as a sun, and a sky, and that the day changed to night, which would become weeks, then years. And he knew that he has been down there for a very long time.
Then, one day, there was light.
And God granted him his relief.
.................................
The group of adventurers broke through the sealed entrance to the abandoned tower. It once stretched all the way to the heavens, but had sunk into the dirt centuries ago. Half of the excited group were thrill seeking scholars, willing to put their lives on the line to uncover the secrets of the Inverted Tower, and the other half were monster slaying treasure hunters, investigating the ancient rumors of forgotten relics. Among them was (Reader), a hero unknown.
The dreams began when they were just a child. Dreams of a man begging them not to leave, falling to his knees as the walls crumbled around the two and the familiar stranger's skin peeled off like cracking paint. A nun in the dreams would assure (Reader) that it wasn't their fault. But it hurt. It was too much for a child to see. Seeing themselves, but not themselves, a body foreign yet undeniably their own, reliving the moment when they chained a man to the floor, then locked the door and left him to die.
Now they stood at a hole in the ground: the magnet of fate pulling them into a place they felt would be identical to their dreams.
And they were right.
The halls seemed to be persevered by magic, dirty and dusty, but still fairly untouched by the erosion of time. Landing onto the top floor was like dropping into one of their dreams. Memories from someone else invaded (Reader's) mind, and forced them to recall things they never experienced before.
Adopted by the Tower of God, (Reader) was proud to have been chosen amongst all of the other orphans. Their skills were unmatched, as was their intellect. Only six years old, and the magical talent scouts had determined that they had what it took to learn to be a great warrior for 'The Cause'.
There was another child around (Reader's) age that had been adopted from a different country. He looked like an angel, with gold hair and eyes so clear and blue that they looked like the sky.
The floor shook dangerously as the group worked their way to the stairs. A healer tried to hold (Reader) back, concern filling his face. "You look really pale, do you need to sit down?"
"We literally just entered!" A thug stage whispered, nervous to make any loud noises. No one knew what was in the tower, but there had been many stories about monsters and demons. Some said that the devil himself pulled the tower into the earth out of jealousy towards God.
"I'm fine.." (Reader) wiped the sweat off their forehead with the back of their hand. "I'm just getting a weird sense of deja vu..."
The children entered the tower's chapel hand in hand. It was nearly empty, save for a nun kneeling before a terrifying statue of a cloaked figure. Despite wearing a habit, she was an unusual looking nun, with her eyebrows shaved off and tattoos visible from under her hood.
"Welcome, children." She gave a small smile, one that seemed more tired than welcoming.
"You look weird." The golden boy gripped (Reader's) arm tighter.
A genuine laugh erupted sharply, startling the kids. "I am a clerical nun."
"What's that?"
She revealed her hands to the small orphans before her. Sparkling light rose from her fingers like snowflakes falling backwards.
"The God that I serve gives me power. Power to cleanse the world of evil." The statue looming above the trio felt as though it heard her mention it; it's presence darkening and suffocating (Reader). "You were chosen because your souls glow stronger than most.. God has blessed you both."
"All you have to do is pray.."
An axe slashed through an attacking bat. Only on the 112th floor and the group had already began to run into creatures from the beyond. Lesser evils such as minion bats and living slime charged the group as ferociously as possible, mad with hunger. As they continued on, a growing affection for the young boy bloomed within (Reader's) heart, reliving someone else's journey of friendship and love, with a terrifying sense of anxiety. Each new remembrance of secret handholding and hushed murmurs behind closed doors gave (Reader) a rush of dopamine, but also made them fearful to continue. They knew there was a memory they didn't want to uncover; one that would connect to the dreams they've had since forever, and it scared them.
On the edge of puberty, (Reader) and the Boy could feel that something within them was changing, but being raised by a guild of monster hunters left them without the basic learnings of what was happening to their bodies and minds. The two were surrounded by loving adults who cared for the orphans like family, but continued to isolate themselves as they grew, relying on each other in secret more and more.
The two hid under the blanket, sharing a bed long after it was time for lights out. (Reader) held onto the Boy's slightly clammy hand, repeating a prayer in their head for God to make their heart stop hurting. It was as though they were allergic to their best friend and brother. Whenever he looked into their eyes they felt a tidal wave of emotion so intense it nearly brought them to tears. However, at the same time they couldn't leave his side. They wanted to hug him so tightly that his body would melt into their's.
"I don't like Mother Lillian." The Boy whispered through pouting lips. "She keeps making us take our lessons apart from each other."
"Haha. That's because you refuse to do your work when we sit together." (Reader) knocked their forehead against his lightly.
In the black of their room, they couldn't see the Boy's face blushing, so they assumed that the heat they felt was coming from their own cheeks.
"Schoolwork is boring... I'd rather spend time with you."
The thing on the ground floor could smell his salvation. That prayer he had mumbled in incoherent words for decades was finally heard by his God. A person who's name he hadn't forgotten despite his language skills diminishing to nothing but grunts and groans had finally come for him. He would no longer be alone.
A horrifying sound of flesh ripping echoed throughout the corridor as he tore his body away from the wall he had begun to fuse to. It was agony, dragging his living corpse across the floor, but he knew that it would all be worth it.
Soon.
(Reader's) talent for the arcane accelerated, like a snowball gently tumbling into an avalanche. Praise and recognition were no strangers to the young teen, but as their recognition grew they were kept apart from their best friend for longer and longer intervals. While it hurt to be away from him, the genius had no idea the absolute trauma the separation was inflicting on him.
Mother Lillian held her bleeding forehead, tears falling not for herself, but for the young man she saw as her own son. The Boy stood above her with a candlestick holder raised high above his head, ready to swing again. This was the scene (Reader) interrupted, lashing out on instinct with a holy light, hoisting their best friend off his feet with a frantic wave of their hand. "STOP!"
Blood continued dripping from the tattooed cleric as her aging body was pulled into her other child's arms. It wasn't a deadly strike, but a second surely would have ended her. She was powerful, but took a vow long ago to only use her magic against evil, so even having her brow split open she refused to defend herself, because that would mean that she thought her adopted son was evil.
And even though he didn't believe it, she did love him.
"It's all her fault! She won't let us be together! She's keepING YOU AWAY FROM ME!!"
Moisture sweat from the walls.
The heat was becoming unbearable. Cooling potions were being consumed in fairly consistent dosages as the party descended. But it wasn't the earth's core, nor the presence of hell itself that caused (Reader's) fever.
They could still feel the sting of betrayal when they threw their best friend off of their mother.
"No.. that wasn't me.." the hero wobbled on their feet, fingernails clawing at their scalp.
A clay vase nearly toppled as (Reader) clipped their hip on the corner of the little table it was resting on.
They could see the Boy watching them from behind the ugly vase, and it made their stomach feel strange. His shoulders had grown wide and his chest broad. The Boy no longer looked like a boy, and (Reader) couldn't block out the odd, scary new feelings they had for him.
"STOP!!" (Reader) took off, slamming their face into a wall with a force loud enough to draw the attention of skeletons.
Said monsters hobbled closer to the group of panicking adventurers, drawing the attention of the dizzy and confused hero, who recognized the tatters draping the undeads' bones immediately.
Clerical wizards and holy people smiled at the young adult knowingly as they tried to explain, with all seriousness, the illness plaguing their body whenever their "brother" was near.
"Calm down!" The healer begged, trying to cool the panicking person down.
"No! You should all be in heaven! Why are you here?!"
Why am I here?
Whispers seeped out of the door to the Boy's room, whispers the jealous cleric-in-training on the other side did not recognize. Unable to contain their envy, (Reader) burst into the room, only to see their exhausted blonde friend standing alone in the center.
"[•••••], who were you talking to?" They demanded, eyes narrowed and shaking. At hearing his own name his cloudy eyes widened, accentuating the bags hanging heavy underneath.
"I was just praying.." His arms engulfing his angry "friend" instantly dowsed their fire, almost hypnotizing them with his touch into forgetting that they thought they had heard a second voice. "If I'm.. If I can be as strong as you, then we'll be able to spend more time together, right?"
Your God wasn't listening, so I found a new one.
As (Reader) remembered a life that wasn't their own, so did the abomination from the basement.
Each floor that their bodies drew closer also brought back pieces of their souls; souls that could only exist together.
He came to me, and offered me a deal.
The Man woke his old friend when the sun wasn't close to rising, climbing over their body under their blankets. As soon as their lips parted to question his actions, his tongue was in their mouth.
With no light to guide them the two kissed passionately and without experience. They didn't know what they were doing, just that they needed to feel one another.
(Reader) greedily grabbed the sides of his face to pull him closer, legs shifting to feel his body against their own, instantly stopping at the realization that his face was wet under their palms.
"[•••••]?" They tried to pull back as he leaned in, trapping them against their pillows. What they first thought to be tears was too warm and thick to be water. Roughly pushing him back, (Reader) illuminated the small space with magic, frightened.
Blood leaked down and smeared across his cheeks as [•••••]'s bloated, red eyes were on the verge of popping.
"Shit, we finally got passed them!" The barbarian wheezed out. "Those boney bastards were fucking tough, no thanks to you!" He directed that last part to the nearly comatose hero being supported by the healer.
"no.."
The young magic user barely heard the sick patient whimper. They had been muttering gargles of nonsense for a few levels, so it was worrying seeing them lucid and frightened; eyes round of scared, pointing at the door the barbarian was about to open with all their strength, shaking. "No..."
"Why were they so tough..?"
The door swung open with a loud bang, and a tendril shot through, piercing the barbarian's skull and splattering the scholar behind him in brain matter.
"He had made a pact with a devil."
A man bubbling alive screamed in agony as he attempted to tear off his hands to rid himself of the holy chains keeping him tethered to the floor.
Mother Lillian made an audible sound of pain as she choked back her feelings. Years of meditation and worship, and she could not keep a stoic face despite this being her job. So many exorcisms she performed. So many monsters she'd slain.
But this was her son.
"We can exer-"
"We have already tried that." (Reader) felt their world shatter. "This was a contract, not a possession."
A paladin in golden armor offered a sorrowful expression that seemed genuine. "The only thing we can do is to put him out of his misery."
"No!" They cried out, attempting to launch themselves at the godly man as their grieving mother held them tighter to her chest. "Let me see him, please! I can talk to him! Convince him to give up the name of the devil, so we can hunt it down and save his soul!"
"That's-" The paladin was cut off by Mother Lillian's icy glare. That was a long shot. Not only would it be a reckless waste of human life to hunt down a devil for one man, said man was delirious, borderline demented. There was no reasoning with him.
Bloody holes where eyes once sat welcomed (Reader) as they entered the cellar prison.
Without his sight, he could still see. He saw with scent and sound. The sound of their blood rushing through their veins made their shape, and the natural odor of (Reader's) sweat identified the body. He smiled, another tooth falling out as he did so, joining the wet pile on the floor.
"(Reader)~.."
"Tell me the name of the devil you serve." They kept their voice even and still, despite the quake rattling their spine.
"You came for me~ Just like he said!~" A pop ended his sentence, one of his arms dislocating as he pulled on the chains to get closer.
"Just like who said?" (Reader) fell to one knee, leaning in as closely and as they safely as they could. "Please, tell me the name of the devil you made a contract with."
"And now you'll love me!" He squealed.
"I want to save you!" (Reader) grabbed his shoulders but was instantly repelled, throwing themselves away and back towards the door. His skin had slipped off and stuck to their fingers. "Please, please just tell me!"
"God made me strong so you would love me!"
(Reader) turned to run out.
"Wait. Where are you going?" His voice almost sounded like his own again. It pulled (Reader's) hand away from the handle.
"I need to hunt down the devil that did this to you." Their voice trembled, barely containing their tears.
".. what?" The smile was gone as more skin stripped off the decaying body. "No?"
The pain was beginning to return. It had left when his love entered, but now that they were threatening to leave.
"You can't leave? No! NO!" His face tore as he slammed his skull down onto the floor. "Don't leave me! You need to love me! Please don't go!"
Corpses lay around the detached person slowly coming to terms with their apparent reincarnation. They knew they never returned to that tower in their previous life. They spent their entire life searching for the devil that stole their first love's soul, and died bleeding out on a battlefield, forgotten by history and remembered by no one. Unknown to them, the tower with their forgotten family did not carry on their legacy, for it had sunk while they were searching and they had simply never heard the news.
Perhaps, there were no gods, only devils. Because even the most righteous people to have ever lived were damned to wander the tower as the undead instead of passing over to the afterlife. It wasn't fair.
(Reader) gazed up at the tumorous creature that had massacred their party with glassy eyes. The name they couldn't recall during their entire discovery of their past life rolled off their tongue as they reached out for him-
"Ydenn."
A language no longer spoken by a people that no longer lived; suddenly the language (Reader) had known their entire life was replaced by something much older.
Skinless hands grabbed (Reader) gently and raised them to eye level. "(Reader).."
He called them by their past name, bruising their hips under his fingers. (Reader) briefly worried that they were about to die, that all these years alone Ydenn thought they had abandoned him, and that all he desired for all these years was revenge.. but instead he pulled them close, smashing his face against theirs in a mock kiss.
Without lips his gums rubbed painfully against their lips, but it felt just as hungry and desperate as their first kiss under the covers. (Reader's) body may have felt different in his arms, but he knew it was them.
They parted their lips for his invading tongue, now longer and monstrous, it moved like a writhing worm inside their cheeks before pressing itself down their throat, pulsating and hot. Ydenn's hands tore off their top, effortlessly going through multiple layers to feel their bare skin against his raw muscles. He sat their body on his mound of flesh, unable to think of anything other than becoming one with them.
A bright light filled (Reader's) vision as their pants were removed, suddenly replacing the horrific scene with a pleasant dream. Lying in the bed they owned well over a century ago, Ydenn held them under his naked body, face red and glossy from his crying baby blues. "I finally have you again." With a wide smile he kissed them again, smiling harder when they eagerly reciprocated.
They pulled back just to say "I tried to save your soul, Ydenn! I'm sorry I never came back, I'm sorry for dying!"
Just like the angel (Reader) remembered him to be, his face cracked under the weight of his joy, hearing his love babble underneath him as though they were nervous of his feelings. "You came back for me~"
"I'm sorry it took so long." Now (Reader) was also smiling through tears. "I'm sorry I never told you.. that.. that I already loved you!"
(Reader) could feel his erection press against their thigh and willingly opened their legs, making room for him.
Ydenn's heavy pants hit their ear as he dropped his face into the crook of their neck, caressing his dick with one hand as he rubbed its tip between their legs. "Tell me you want to become one with me."
Shivers pimpled their skin in anticipation as they looked down between their bodies at his swollen cock. "I want to become one with you."
There was a searing pain that pieced (Reader's) core.
With a blink the dream was gone, and (Reader) was back facing the skinless half living corpse; a thick tendril made of gore and once-human meat penetrating their stomach.
Vomit and blood spat out across their chest as the throbbing entity began thrusting in and out of the wound it created. Their eyes gave away their shock at the treachery. The wound was too deep and too sudden; the immediate pain was already gone, and they felt numb from the waist down.
"Yd-Ydenn?" They choked on his name, but the gurgle of blood went unnoticed by him. Just hearing his name spurred him on. His teeth scraped against theirs as he began violently fucking the hole he had created. The tendril raped their abdomen like a prehensile penis while his hands ground their urine soaked groin against the growth that was his lower half. Each slap of their bodies bore the wound deeper, spraying blood and mulched intestine.
Between slaps were images of that dream, almost within (Reader's) grasp. They could almost feel pleasure, as they imagined running their hands through his hair as he pounded them into their bed.
They could hear the bed creaking against the hard wood floor as they reached their orgasm, excitedly moaning as they spasmed under his crushing pelvis. (Reader) could feel something building within them, threatening to pop as his dick slammed into something inside of them perfectly.
Just as it was spilling out, the rush of a climax vibrating their system, a loud thunk brought them back to their bloody reality.
Their glazed eyes lulled to the side to find the source of the loud sound.
(Reader's) severed bottom half lay on the floor, only attached to their torso by the stretched out intestines and leaky organs barely holding on.
The disembowelment of his lover didn't seem to phase the monster, still making love to them as more smaller, wriggling pieces of flesh penetrated (Reader).
They could feel the tendril writhe up into their chest, and wondered how they weren't dead yet. It rubbed itself against their heart, leaking an inhuman precum against their weakly beating organ. Through the black goop they thought they could see blue irises smiling back at them with happy tears.
"I love you, (Reader)."
Hot fluid splashed up into their brain as he came inside of their nearly hollowed out cavity, then the world went black.
There was a creature at the bottom of the tower, that no adventurer dared to attack. It never killed unprovoked, but it's kill rate was perfect.
It was a strange creature, a large ball of rotting chunks of human meat, held together by dark magic. Out of the tumor like creature sprouted two torsos, one more decayed than the other, and they were often seen embracing one another, creating ungodly sounds that echoed throughout the entire tower.
Though they forgot how to speak and see, their names never each other's mouths, repeating them over and over to one another without end. They had no need for sleep, nor rest. It was as though they forgot they needed to eat and even breathe.
They only needed each other.
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sunny44 · 4 months
Text
Marriage (Part 10)
Mason’s Version
Paring: Max Verstappen x ex fiancée!reader Mason Mount x Fiancée!reader
Warnings: pregnancy talk
Summary: Max leaves his fiancée y/n at the altar on their wedding day but after years of regretting what he did, by a miracle of fate (or Lando) she appears in his life again.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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After that conversation with Max, things became clearer to me. In fact, it made me realize that I love Mason and that he's the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.
So after I finished eating my burger, I went back to the room determined to make him listen to me.
"Mason." He didn't look at me. "Let's talk."
"I don't want to talk."
"But we will.” I say loudly, and he looks at me. "I understand why you're mad at me, and I don't blame you. I know I was wrong to lie about my past and the letter, but I won't lose you because of it."
"Maybe you already lost me."
"No, I haven't lost you because if I had, you wouldn't be here." He sighs. "I love you, and I never had any doubts about that. Of course my actions say otherwise, but I love you."
"Then why? Why did you keep that letter?"
"Because I'm an idiot and because deep down I wanted to know what he had written in it." He sighed. "If I wanted to get back with him, I would have done it the moment we met again. But I didn't, because you're the guy I want to marry, have kids with and grow old with."
"Look, I don't care if he loves you, because we can't control our feelings. What makes me angry is that you lied to me and made me feel like you loved him too. I felt like an idiot for being completely in love with you while you had someone like him."
"Mase, you're the only one I want." I approached him and held his face. "I don't want anyone else to spend the rest of my life with other than you."
"Do you promise?"
"Yes, I promise." He agreed. "I talked to Max before coming here. And I'm telling you because I don't want you to find out through the internet later."
"What did you talk about?"
"He asked if I was really in love with you and that if the answer was yes, I should go after you and fix things between us. But if the answer was no, and if I felt anything for him, he would be in his room waiting."
"Son of a..."
"He also said that if I showed up in his room, it meant we had a chance. But if I didn't, it meant I had chosen you, and he would understand that."
"I'm glad you're here and not there."
"There's one more thing I need to tell you." I moved away from him, going to my bag. "I haven't been feeling well in the past few days, and I took a pregnancy test."
"What?" He asks, somewhat shocked.
"I don't know the result because I was scared, and I also wanted to look at it with you." I handed him the little box.
"What do you think the result is?"
"I don't know."
"And what do you want it to be?"
"I don't know either." I take a deep breath. "What do you want?"
“Honestly, I would love to have a baby with you." He smiles, and he hands me the test. "So?"
I looked at him and smiled.
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Bonus scene!
Yourusername Instagram post
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Liked by @masonmount, @yourmom, @benchilwell, @maxverstappen and others 103791
Yourusername These last few months have been a rollercoaster ride in my life, but finding out that I'm pregnant has certainly been the best. Mason and I are very happy to announce that baby Mount will be arriving soon.
Tagged: @Masonmount
Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @dudenhaaa27 @christianpulisic10 @gaslysainz @fanboyluvr @urgirlceci @justdreamersdream @aundercoverosh @newlifeforus @depressedriches @topguncultleader @luvrrish @tyna-19 @esposadomd @formulas-bitch @boredmadamoiselle
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soulprompts · 8 months
Text
THE SURPRISING HERO ( A PROMPT LIST! )
hello my beloveds!!! an absolutely incredible nonnie sent in a request for prompts based on the idea of someone becoming a vital part of saving the world through unanticipated events, and i hope i managed to achieve what they wanted in this list! basically i got a tonne of inspiration from comic book movies and the more fantastical vibes of high fantasy franchises, and i was going to make these more amusing, but i think there's something so hard-hitting about the concept of being thrust into greatness and heroism when you feel you aren't ready for it! anyway! enjoy, and as always: DO NOT ADD TO OR EDIT THIS LIST, AND DO NOT CLAIM AS YOUR OWN!
FROM THE UNEXPECTED HERO:
“ i’m not supposed to be here. i’m not like the rest of you; i’m not special, or blessed, or gifted. i’m just… me. “
“ you’ve got to be joking! i can’t save the world! i’m just an ordinary person! “
“ it’s funny. all these years, i’ve wanted so badly to see the world. now… i think i’ve never wanted anything so much as to go back home. “
“ so that’s it, then? i’m just supposed to sacrifice everything to save the world, all because some ancient prophecy says so? “
“ i still can’t quite believe we were doing laundry yesterday. now our biggest chore is traveling across the world to save it. “
“ i miss home. i miss how safe and boring and fine it all was. i never would’ve wanted adventures if i thought they’d be as scary and dangerous as this. “
“ they’re right to be angry, you know. everyone has a purpose here; i’m only joining you all because of some insane twist of fate. “
“ surprised? don’t worry, so was i. i don’t think it’s a normal occurrence for people like me to be part of massive quests like this. “
“ look. i’m not the chosen one, alright? i don’t want any part in any prophecy or ancient dictation. i just want to live an ordinary, safe, boring life. “
“ you think i don’t acknowledge what’s happening?! every mistake i make has costs, and those costs are often the lives of innocent people! “
“ you know, last year my idea of a grand adventure was going up the mountains for a picnic with my friends. funny how fast things change, isn’t it? “
“ i’m not a hero! i don’t know how to fight! heroes are special and unique and trained, and i’m none of those things. “
“ everyone looks at me like i’ve got the answers, but i don’t. i was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. “
“ you ever stop to question the solidity of this prophecy? because if the wording is that vague that it could name me as the savior of the world, then maybe we ought to revise it. “
“ this is stupid! putting the fate of the universe on some million-year-old prophecy! “
“ i’m not what you think i am. i’m not a hero. i’m sorry, i know you want me to be one, but… i’m just not. “
“ so you’re telling me, because i happened to overhear some weird out of context conversation, that the safety of the world relies entirely on me? “
“ don’t you see how daft this whole thing is?! i’ve got to save the world now because i happened to take a wrong turn on my way home! “
“ why can’t i just give you guys what i found, and you can go and rescue the world yourselves? “
“ i want to clarify that i’m not a coward. okay? i’m not running away from this. but i’m not exactly save-the-world material. so thank you for the opportunity, but… i think i’ll stay at home. “
TO THE UNEXPECTED HERO:
“ i get it, you know. it’s a huge responsibility for someone who’s only just realized what’s at stake. “
“ the others think i’m utterly mad for even considering you for this task. but the fact is, you’re the only person i genuinely believe to be capable of fixing this mess. “
“ would you like to know the mark of a true hero? it’s courage. not an absence of fear, not an ignorance of it, but rather, the choice to persevere in spite of it. you’re still here. that makes you one of the bravest people on the planet. “
“ don’t let anyone else tell you what you are and aren’t capable of. everything happens for a reason, and it wasn’t dumb luck that put you in our path. “
“ i don’t believe in prophecies, personally. i think the universe is far too chaotic for them to survive thousands of years. but i do believe that you being here is not a coincidence. “
“ fate only accounts for part of what happens in our lives. the rest of it is all choices. and despite how scared and inexperienced you are… you’ve chosen to stay. that tells me an awful lot about you. “
“ how selfish can you be?! running away from this destiny, this task! the world will fall into darkness if you don’t step up, and here you are, hiding from your fate like a coward! “
“ you need to learn to ignore the opinions of others if you’re going to stand a chance at doing this. this is the cost of being a hero. people will judge, not based on truth, but on a limited perspective. “
“ don’t be stupid. we’re not special or talented either; i was trained from childhood, i can fight men twice my size, but that’s not the mark of a hero. “
“ if you like, i could teach you how to fight? you may find it useful. even if it’s just to comfort yourself against these ridiculous self-doubts. “
“ heroes aren’t always massive muscle types. the inventor of new defense measures against attacks, or someone who discovered a cure for a disease, or perhaps someone clever enough to use new fuel sources in the winter… heroism isn’t always found in warzones, you know. “
“ fine. don’t do it for the fate of the world. do it for your family. your friends. do it for the ones you’ll return to once we settle this for good. save this world, not for the world itself, but for the ones you love, so that they may live on. “
“ you should know some things. most people, if you somehow perform outside of the very specific expectations they have for you, will be very quick and harsh in their judgment. it’s not something one can avoid. but you can learn to rise above those critics. remember. they don’t know the real you. “
" fear is normal. okay? we all fear things. the real killer is when you try to fight that fear. you're no lesser a hero for fearing things. expect it. accept it. embrace it. and once it's with you, work with it to fight even more. "
" you keep saying you're not a hero. tell me. what exactly is it that you believe a hero to be? "
" people make the error of assuming heroes to be golden, flawless, immaculate in both thought and strategy. it's never the case. heroes are the most flawed of all. that's what makes us admire them so. "
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ozzgin · 9 months
Note
Hi it's me again.
I wanted to ask you if you could do a yandere baki characters with a pregnant reader because i love the concept. If i could request some characters i would ask for Retsu because he's the perfect husband : he's responsible, he can cook, he's perfect 😍. Katsumi because he's a family man, and as a yandere i'm pretty sure he would baby Trap you and you can't forget about yandere supportive grandparents. Hanayama would be the protective daddy's baby girl and he would spoil you so bad. But please whatever you decide to do, avoid doing Yujiro cause there wouldn't be much to write about this immature man.
I would love if you could come up with something from the start of the pregnancy until the first moment with the baby after labor. But i understand if it's to much to write
I hope this request will inspire you. Thanks for reading this, bye 👋.
Sure thing, I think you picked the perfect characters for it. I might’ve included Biscuit Oliva, but I’m horribly uninspired for the yandere part of it. Might update it in the future.
Yandere! Baki Characters x Pregnant! Reader Headcanons
Featuring Kaiou Retsu, Katsumi Orochi, Kaoru Hanayama. And a heavily pregnant reader!
[Baki Masterlist]
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Kaiou Retsu
Retsu has never been one to think hard about lineage. He himself was born and raised in a temple, without any known biological relatives, and nonetheless has built lifelong bonds based on loyalty and respect. Yet something about having his own offspring is intriguing and tempting. The idea itself wouldn’t be as attractive if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re part of the equation. Yes, that’s what makes it so special. Not the fact that he’s passing his genes, but that in doing so he’s further materializing his connection with you.
These thoughts come to fruition when you hand him a positive test. He looks at you with a serious, determined expression, but you can guess from the shaking hands just how overwhelmed he is. There’s no greater privilege than being a father to YOUR child. He offers you a deep bow and vows to become the best father figure you could ask for.
You try to tell him that he can take it easy, but this man stays true to his word. You look outside the window one day and see him doing his usual training, except this time he’s wearing headphones. Listening to music? As if! He got himself some parenting audio books in order to maintain his physique and improve his knowledge on the topic. Your fridge is overflowing with leftovers because he cooks several meal courses at once, just in case you suddenly crave a different dish. You’ve been approached by officers on the street and had to explain that the man stalking you is your husband, and he’s just worried you might get hurt on your grocery shopping trip. You sigh, exhausted.
A newly found sense of purpose floods his being upon holding the newborn. There it is, the concrete, ultimate proof of your love. The reassurance that you’ve chosen him, out of all the men out there, for this experience of a lifetime. Don’t worry, he will never forget it. He will spend the rest of his life demonstrating his devotion and adoration to you. You won’t regret your decision. Ever.
Katsumi Orochi
Katsumi has a complex relationship when it comes to family dynamics. He has known both the tragedy of losing a father and the joy of having one in his life to this day. He’s been plagued by grief and love at the same time and so for him, the image of a father becomes a labyrinth of feelings. Except that he’s not wandering alone, but with his darling (Y/N) by his side. His blindingly bright guide and love of his life.
When you surprise him with the news, he feels as if all pieces of the puzzle click together and he’s finally found an exit to the maze, an answer, a purpose. Naturally, being a father holds different meanings to different people. To him, having a child means that your fate has been joined with his. Whatever the future holds for you must now include him, soldered safely into your plans. Oh, what a blissful occasion. You’ve given yourself to him entirely and he will make sure to never break the trust.
You didn’t think he’d care for all the small details, but he does. He’ll be right next to you during all appointments. He’ll be holding your hand when you’re sick and unwell. He’ll be scribbling furiously and taking notes during the parenting classes you decided to attend. He wants to know everything and be part of everything. And you’d be fine with it if it wasn’t for the equally overzealous in-laws. The Orochi family has you under permanent surveillance, nearly worshipping the ground you walk on. You’re overwhelmed.
His hands carefully wrap around the fragile, soft body of the infant. Katsumi marvels at the size and lifts it slightly, in order to be able to view both the baby and the mother. His eyes narrow in a dazed smile, gazing at the sight in front of him. His family has taken many forms, volatile through time, expanding and shrinking. In this very moment, however, it’s this. Just you, him and the proof of your bond. He won’t allow anything else to interfere.
Kaoru Hanayama
Hanayama is very proud of his father as a yakuza leader, but never fully approved of the way he carried his duty as a parent and husband. He wants to prove that he can be a fearless, hard-hearted kumichou without stripping his kindness to his friends and family. Especially after meeting you, he’s convinced he could never have the heart to upset you in any way. The two driving forces in his life are the honor of his family and (Y/N)’s happiness.
And this oath might soon extend and bring everything together at once. When he hears your announcement, he closes his eyes briefly and pictures it. Unexpectedly, the meaning of family has been fulfilled in every way possible. He’s not afraid or nervous, in fact he’s welcoming it with open arms. He feels almost nostalgic, similar to when he inherited his father’s title and became responsible for his Group. He asks for the ceremonial cups to be brought, together with the best sake. From parent to child, he raises the small cup for his second sakazukigoto and you return the gesture with a solemn smile. You sheepishly remind him that you can no longer drink alcohol and he bows to apologize, flustered.
Hanayama will make sure that everything is at your feet. The whole branch has now been tasked to provide to your smallest wishes and desires. Not only are you his life companion, but you are gifting his Group with a new addition and he wants you to be aware of your importance. Sometimes he might become a little melancholic, wishing he could ask his mother for advice on how to proceed. When that happens, you hold his hand firmly and remind him that you’re just as clueless and you will figure it out together. Truly, what a blessing you’ve been in his life.
When the newborn child is placed in his arms, Hanayama can feel his knees weakened by emotion for the very first time. Not only is this small human his own blood and flesh, but a part of (Y/N) as well, serving as a promise of devotion. You’re all his and now he has a permanent reminder of it. He chuckles, slightly regretful that he can no longer parade you around with an obvious belly. He feels you tug at his sleeve. “Have you told Kizaki?” You ask, fatigued. “I told everyone, actually. They’re all outside.” You cover your eyes with your arm, not wanting to imagine the sight. Dozens of yakuza casually hanging out in the hospital yard. Welcome to the family, I suppose.
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astrologylunadream · 4 months
Text
Their Feelings for You This Month 💌🖤💬 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)
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Hey it's Lunadream♡ It's the first month of 2024, This is your love reading set for the current month! Let's see what's going on with their heart this month.🩷 (This was posted in January, but the reading can be timeless <3) hope you find your message💌
Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)
Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~🌸🖤
Pile 1👥️
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Pile 2🥈
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Pile 3💒
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Pile 4🎱
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Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡
On to the readings —> 🖤
Pile 1👥️
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Sign energy: Attempt, Universe, Addiction, Mental, Synchrony, Libra, Vertex, Lilith, Neptune, Capricorn,🧽🍰😘🎤
👤Your person's energy: Okay there is some soulmate energy in this pile, This is someone with a dreamy mind and omg you guys think so much alike🫢💭 Prominent Libra, Pisces, or Capricorn placements. I feel like this person prefers to have control over their love life or their situations regarding relationships. I'm hearing that they really want to be on the same page as their partner, working together and cooperating in harmony. You may daydream of this person often, or you two could be thinking of eachother at the same times.💓 Your person is very dedicated to their partnerships, they work hard to mantain them. You may feel obsessed with this person, for some of you pile 1's this person is your addiction. You could be addicted to the sound of their voice👄🖤 Some of you this person drives you crazy, good or bad. I'm getting that you two have a dark infatuation with eachother, your shadow sides could be really attracting eachother. It could feel wrong in some way, but also really good. The universe recognizes you two as a couple, a pair of some sort. It is a fated connection, for some of my pile 1's it's twin flame or soulmates. I feel like you or them morph into thinking like the other person, you might try to copy them ot vice versa (It's so sweet). This person has a very attractive and serious energy, they treat love like a full time job I'm hearing.
🩷Their feelings for you: True feelings, True intentions, Less, Watch your back, White, North node, Saturn, Water, Leo, 2nd house,🐅⚔️📆😂 Wow there is a lot of honest and straightforward answering for their feelings towards my pile 1's. I'm seeing that your person's decisions are set and in motions right now, they aren't shifting the path they have chosen for this connection. They have a lot of genuine feelings for you guys, like honest love for you they aren't faking it.🥺 But you know what, your person might be messing themselves up with this one. They could be prone to telling white lies because they think it's for the better of the future, so they're definitely guarding their romantic feelings from my pile 2's. They could be in a tiger energy, fiercely on edge and keeping out anyone who makes them show their vulnerable or loving side. Now can I just say this person has big intentions with you guys, they want a future with you. Omg and they're so attracted to you, especially your back and shoulders.🙊💞 But they're hiding this pretty well right now I'm hearing, their attraction to you might be scaring them. They're trying to give less and restrict themselves from you, It may even be laughable to you as you watch them try so hard this month to hide their feelings. Lol it's so obvious, I can't see this going on for long either not any more than a month. Because they honestly can't hide their true love for you guys, it will be torture if they keep going like that😢❤️ I feel like they just now realized what love can do to them and it makes them so confused like "So this is love? I want my money back!" Lol that's them😂 They're trying to hit a reset button on these feelings for my pile 1's but I don't see this working for them, once they make up their mind they will finally admit how much they want this.💞
💌Messages from your person: I hope you feel better, Don't get it twisted, I should stop hiding my feelings, I've been so busy, I went to far, I had it coming, Let's have fun, I'm holding back (Omg they're really admitting it🥹) Extra cards: Spoil, Princess, Warm, Imagination, Waist (Ohh my pile 1's they want to spoil you so badly😫👑💋💋💋 I'll let you put together the rest😏)
Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!♡
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the shadow couple emoji~👥️ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🖤
Pile 2🥈
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Sign energy: Miss, Technology, June, Mental, Playful, Fire, Cancer, 2nd house, 11th house, 5th house,🖌🎰🙋‍♂️💭
👤Your person's energy: So this is someone you had some huge feelings for, definitely a no contact situation right now. You really miss this person, I feel like you guys got separated somehow🥺 Cancer, Taurus, Aquarius and Leo placements are likely, Fire placements. They're a caring and fun individual, omg they are so creative and sweet. Smart too. My pile 2's person thinks a lot, they may play games a lot or used to. This could be a friend or someone you dated for a short amount of time or there was just a sudden flame that burnt out very quickly.🕯💔 My pile 2's may be holding on to the relationship somehow, most likely through technology or social media. I feel like you guys still think of this person often, and when you're like scrolling through your phone some random thought of them pops into your head.💭🫢 Could be an artist or enjoy drawing. June is a significant time for this relationship, it could be when something will happen or something that did. Maybe you guys met in June or lost contact in that month. They're a social and curious person, you may think of their voice or remember it often. The way they smile is so sweet, and they have a lot of different talents. A bright and uplifting person.✨️
🩷Their feelings for you: On, Scratch, Illusion, Prove, Destiny, Juno, Jupiter, Taurus, Gemini, 3rd house,💍😔🤩😓 Omg this is so sad. They want to marry you straight UP😭 And they wanna show you that it's not just a silly relationship between you two, they see you as their other half.. their destiny.💘 My pile 2's your person feels like they have to talk to you, it's so important to them. They want to prove their feelings to you, and show you their heart. They want to unveil the illusive surface of the relationship and have you see that it's not what you think at all, they're actually really patient and set on being with you for a long time my pile 2's.🤧💌 They want to talk about marriage, and commiting to you. This worries them so much, because they think you won't want it. They have a big picture of the future with you, it lights them up inside but it also makes them feel already so disappointed expecting that it won't happen. They think of you very often, sometimes they're optimistic about you and other times they're hopeless. You mean so much to them, all they want to to put that ring on your finger!!💍😩💗 Literally so many thoughts of marrying you, they want to have you be theirs for good.♡
💌Messages from your person: Open your heart, I'm desperate for your touch, You're my addiction, I can't tell, I won't tell anyone (Ohh they're taking that to the grave🫢💞) Extra cards: Devotion, Offer, Siblings, Practice, Peace (You guys they wish they could show you how much you mean to them and show their devotion to you💍)
Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!♡
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the (totally an ornament) metal emoji~🥈 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🖤
Pile 3💒
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Sign energy: Crush, Suffer, Balence, Let go, Stay, 6th house, Gemini, Mercury, Taurus, Neptune, 💀🤹‍♂️🦄👈
👤Your person's energy: This person is definitely a romantic interest for my pile 3's💗 Virgo, Gemini, Taurus and Pisces, lots of Mercurial influence in your persons chart perhaps. A lot of my pile 3's have a crush on this person. You may daydream of this person often, could be a regular thing for you guys💭 Your person is more quick witted and a sharp thinker, they think a lot. But I feel like it is a burden to them sometimes, like they think too much. For some of you this person may have lost a sibling or grown apart from them. Omg they are really juggling a lot right now, I'm hearing that they multitask way to much.🤯 They have a lot on their mind a once. Your person probably has headaches a lot or they're more prone to it. This person could be someone you wish you could keep, like a valuable possession you don't want to give up. I'm hearing you want to stay with this person, or they may wish to stay with you but also feel the need to let go. They want to feel at ease and seek balence in their mind, my pile 3's your person wants some peace and quiet for once!😅 They want to let go of all the thoughts they have and calm down.
🩷Their feelings for you: Innovation, Bad, College, Night, Zoo, Libra, South node, Jupiter, Uranus, Juno,💜🧠🚷💀 Okay so your person may be weary or trying to avoid you for some reason right now, definitely romantic tension from you guys.🫣 One or both of you may be in college or that could be a significant change in their feelings. The skull emoji has popped out twice so that's interesting, maybe this is a connection you thought you cut off or they did and it came back from the grave. They definitely don't feel good about you my pile 3's, you're making their head spin! I feel like they're thinking of a wild night with you guys it's so strange, like they might be having some really crazy thoughts of you and it's stressing them out further.😬🌋 You are stuck in this person's head, they see you as a long term partner in their eyes. But this also freaks them out so they like wanna believe you're bad for them.🙉 Wow your person definitely has an imagination about you, they try to convince themselves they don't want you in their life. You may have done something in the past that left a mark on them, or perhaps something they are judging you off of. They want you but don't want you at the same time. Very indecisive right now. But my pile 3's they low key wanna marry you wtf, then all of the sudden you're the devil reincarnated in their head oml😭🫣 They are mentally obsessed with you though, lol idk if it's even their fault😂 Pile 3 this person is so into you that they're having to convince themselves they aren't🥵❤️
💌Messages from your person: Let me in, You make me lovesick, If it's what you want, Just us two, Just talk to me, Please don't be sad, I want to avoid you, You make me wild (It's so true, literally exact😭❤️‍🔥) Extra cards: Audience, Price, Ring, Mars, Rise (Some dominating energy coming through🫣)
Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!♡
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the wedding church emoji~💒 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🖤
Pile 4🎱
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Sign energy: Past, Performance, Toy, Guardian, Shine, Vertex, Sagittarius, 3rd house, Mars, Sun,💫💚🕊👥️
👤Your person's energy: This person is more dominant to my pile 4's. You may have a set image of them being amazing or well recognized. Sagittarius, Gemini, Aries, Scorpio and Leo placements😘 Ohh now the 8 ball if a perfect symbol for this pile's energy since the number is connected to Scorpio, some of you may have picked up on that when choosing this pile. Your person is are very assertive especially verbally, dominant in most conversations I'm hearing. They probably have a really attractive voice, for some of you their voice is more masculine or rough. Aww I feel like this person is sort of like a big brother to you guys, or that's the dynamic I'm seeing with you two🥹💞 They may protect you or just their very presence makes you feel this way. Omg they could tease you? Like they enjoy playing around with you in conversations, and maybe they say something that makes you blush and they tease you for it😳 I can totally see that happening between you guys. They are the type to make an entrance, especially when delivering a message or telling a story. I feel like they converse with a lot of people, everyone views them as fun and unpredictable.✨️ They may get in arguments easily though, as they are very straightforward in communicating. Ngl I feel like dirty talk is their specialty but I'll leave it there🤫 They gain attention and praise effortlessly, they probably don't even want it. Also I'm just getting physically they are just, wow, okay??😂
🩷Their feelings for you: Submissive, Chains, Longevity, Fashion, Intimacy, Juno, Libra, Air, Aries, Venus,🎰🤗🐏🦉 Oh god.. my pile 4's this just got intense.🥲 I'm going to try and keep it as light as possible. So yeah, they want you. Definitely very into you my pile 4's, the way you dress is very attractive to them. They find you very pretty and cute, they really want to see you in a wedding dress I'm hearing. (Yes marriage definitely💍🫠) There is a LOT they want from you guys, I don't know where to start honestly. This person really wants intimacy with you, they want physical interaction with you. I feel like they won't take their hands off you though!😫🥵 They see you as someone very delicate and feminine, someone they can surprise I'm hearing😭 Your person wants to dominate you, I mean take you OVER. You bring out a monster in them ngl, the things they want with you..😰 They like being the more experienced one with you, I'm leaving that there. They know a lot about you too, probably everything you like. They want to be aggressive with you, so they can gain dominance over you completely. Because they love the idea of you submitting to them, so they may purposely start little arguments to make you nervous. But it's really because they want to kiss you when you're caught off guard💋 My pile 4's your person has some INTENSE feelings for you🫣 They like being unpredictable with you, the rest is very 🔞 since this isn't that type of reading I'll let some of my pile 4's put the rest together :'D
💌Messages from your person: You know better than this, You have no boundaries with me, Are you for real? Like you would know, Don't wait for me, We don't need boundaries (Oh my😳) Extra cards: Want, Unhealthy, Present, Beach, Fine
Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!♡
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the 8 ball emoji~🎱 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🖤
Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸
Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3
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aphrogeneias · 9 months
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it's been seven hours and fifteen days —
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pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: five years ago you'd left your hometown in a hurry, trying to escape a heartbreak you thought was inevitable. now, you find out what's truly inevitable are lengths that fate will go to meet you.
word count: 1.3k
warnings: soulmate!au, angst, unrequited love (or is it?), eddie and reader are childhood friends but they're now in their 20s.
series masterlist
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I. PROLOGUE (1991)
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA, DECEMBER 1991
"He's here."
Your trembling hands grasp the telephone receiver a little too hard. Staring at the closed door of the back office and hoping that the "staff only" sign is respected, you wait for your friend at the other end of the line to answer after you completely ignored her cheery "Hello!" just seconds earlier.
If you strain your ears a little bit, you can hear the telltale sounds of instruments being dragged around the small stage at the other side of the bar, the voices of the men — both band and crew alike — checking the sound for later that night, distorted feedback echoing from the amps. His voice was the loudest, as it’s always been.
It all feels like a fever dream.
"Who is there?"
"Who have I been running from for the past five years?" You sighed tiredly, as if you'd just ran for miles. You hoped that from your desperate tone that Robin would have picked up on exactly who you were talking about.
"Oh… He's there?" Realization colors her voice. You heard steps on her end, the telephone cord being stretched, and waited with baited breath for her to return. For a moment, you can almost picture her clumsily moving around her small kitchen, trying not to break something in her haste. "He's there?"
The shock you hear in her voice can't be compared to the one you felt when you saw Eddie Munson — freak extraordinaire, professional small town delinquent, guitar wizard and your long lost best friend — walk into the bar you work at, equipment in hand, ready to settle in the stage for a busy Friday night at one of the more inconspicuous bars in Sunset Boulevard.
In all your naivety, you thought you'd never have to see him again. Once you left Hawkins, fresh out of High School and with a determination you only have when you're born in a town that is, in turn, equally determined to spit you out, you thought that was it. Destiny and fate and red strings didn't rule your life, you did.
Destiny was now laughing at your face, pointing at you with an accusing finger like a mother that says "I told you so" to a misbehaving child that has to face the consequences after tempting them for too long.
It looked like he didn't change a thing since you last saw him, from the shaggy brown hair down to the tattered black bandana in his pocket, at least from the quick look you took at him before bolting, which only hurt even more.
"When were you going to tell me he moved here? Didn't you know anything? Didn't Steve know? Dustin must have told him something, it's impossible…"
"Bold of you to assume I listen to every single thing that dingus tells me when he calls me, babe." Robin interrupts your increasingly rapid speech, filled with indignant rage. Her words seem harsh towards your mutual friend, but you know it's said with affection. "And also, I don't know, doesn't fate work in mysterious ways or whatever they used to tell us when we were kids?"
Your communication with your childhood friends was done primarily by phone, ever since you left for Los Angeles and Robin for Indianapolis with her girlfriend-slash-roommate (as far as both of their parents are concerned), Vickie. Steve had stayed behind, begrudgingly managing his dad's business, but you knew it was only a matter of time until he left too.
All of you do, eventually. Even Eddie did, much to your chagrin. It was bittersweet, actually. He'd achieved his lifelong dream of getting out, a dream you both shared, but now you hoped he had chosen somewhere else to run to instead of right into you.
If you weren’t too busy being desperate about your current situation, one you’d been trying to avoid for longer than you thought it was possible, you’d be happy for him. Truly. Once upon a time, it was all you ever wanted. All you could ever talk about. Sitting on his bedroom floor, lying together on your roof, staring at Lover’s Lake — about how you’d get out of there and conquer the world.
You didn’t get to do it together like you planned, like you were meant to, but, then again, life found a way.
"There's nothing mysterious about this, though. Every idiot with a band in this country moves to California sooner or later, it was just a matter of time until they did too."
"May I remind you that he's not just an idiot with a band but actually your soulmate?"
The word soulmate pierces your heart like an arrow anytime you hear it, especially when it's related to yours. It reminds you of a painful conversation, one that was hard to forget.
"Don't say that. You're making it difficult for me." You murmur, closing your eyes for a moment too long. Still staring at the door, scared of someone walking in catching you hanging on to the receiver for dear life, unshed tears glistening in your eyes.
"I'm just saying, and I know I've said this a million times before, but I don't know how you haven't caved to those doe eyes of his. Soulmate or not, I would have, and I don't even like men. Not even a little bit."
Glimpses of warm brown filled your mind, deep and all-knowing. It was getting harder to breathe in the stuffy backroom, the walls seeming to close in on you.
A rational part of your brain, deep inside, knew that you were likely exaggerating. It wasn't like Eddie meant to hurt you — he couldn't even if he tried, that boy didn't have a mean bone in his body. In your worst moments, you tried to convince yourself that you had hurt yourself. You broke your own heart before he could break it first.
That same rational part of your brain knew it was inevitable. The heartbreak. It was only a matter of time until it all shattered — so, you left. You stopped writing at some point near the six month mark after you moved, he stopped calling a little after that. Life went on.
"You're not being very helpful, you realize that? I nearly had a heart attack when I saw him. They're all here, all of the boys. They're here, at the bar, rehearsing." You told her. "When Linda said they had hired a new band I expected something like them but not them, literally." Recounting what happened a few minutes before, you left out the part where you may or may not have crouched behind the bar counter to avoid being seen by your former classmates.
The Deuce was your safe place, and that was a lot to say about a bar that housed a little under a hundred rowdy rock fans almost every night and had seen its fair share of fights and public indecency charges in the time you worked there, but you liked it. Maybe it had to do with the fact that it was one of those places where everything felt possible and every night was different, or with the woman who took you under her wing and made you feel at home in the most chaotic moment of your life.
You trusted Linda, but not enough to tell her about your “one who got away”. Even if you did tell her about what led you here, the real reason you were miles away from home, you don’t think it would have made a difference in this particular moment. You had a feeling no one could put a stop to the red string that was, little by little, shortening the distance between you and the one who’s always held the other side of it.
It frightened you to no end.
"You should just talk to him. Rip that band-aid off. What are you going to do? Leave your job?"
After a beat of silence on your end, Robin continued, and the soft kindness in her voice was enough to finish breaking you. You wish you could hold her through the line. "You can't keep running forever."
Was it stupid that you thought you could?
Your heart beat fast under the tight black shirt you used to work that day, and unconsciously, your hand reached for the necklace under it. An old red guitar pick sat there, right under your collarbone, held between your fingers.
The only thing of his you couldn't keep in that damn box.
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crisiscutie · 3 months
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Yandere 7R Sephiroth Musings
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In Sephiroth's wild race against fate, his ruthlessness has no boundaries. He will do whatever he can to ensure his victory, and he'll glady take every opportunity to break his precious doll.
Content Warning: NSFW. Teratophilia. Noncon. Curvy darling. Cumflation. Sister complex/kink. Long musings.
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༻❁༺ His fervent attachment to the darling started when he was just a boy. She played the role of an older sister for him, giving him doses of love and normalcy. He still desired these doses, even after the Nibelheim Incident.
༻❁༺ He was never happy with his Nee-San Darling mentoring other young SOLIDERS. He desired for her undivided attention and love, which he sought from her alone.
༻❁༺ Leaving her was tough for him when he went on his first mission to Rhadore, but he always kept her in his heart, even when they met again years later.
༻❁༺ His growth awed her, as he transformed from a boy barely reaching her shoulders to a towering man who dwarfed her, even when she wore heels.
༻❁༺ But he was caught up in a storm of emotions, constantly questioning his purpose and his feelings for her, wondering if it was even appropriate to feel so strongly for his mentor, his SOLDIER comrade, his big sister. These feelings, combined with a series of other traumatic events, ultimately pushed him to madness.
༻❁༺ Even though he had erased most of his memories in the Lifestream, the deep affection for his Nee-San returned when they were reunited again years later, a reminder that memories are forever etched in the heart.
༻❁༺  When she was found unconscious at Nibelheim, she was forcibly injected with his cells. In his twisted mind, destiny intended for them to be intertwined, as brother and sister, man and wife.
༻❁༺ When she joined up with Cloud and his party, he took every opportunity he could to remind her of their "bond". Jealousy burned inside him as he watched her give guidance to his puppet, as she did to him when he was a boy.
༻❁༺ So Sephiroth had to prove himself to her. He must fully destroy her image of him - a sweet, obedient boy. He is the chosen one of Gaia, determined to claim what is rightfully his.
༻❁༺ Using his puppets at his disposal, he crept up and approached his nee-san darling when she least expected it. One of his clones accidentally fell on her, landing snugly against her pillowy chest, a habit picked up from Sephiroth whenever he needed her comfort.
༻❁༺ Another time, Sephiroth pinned her against the wall, his gloved hand firmly around her neck. Although he could've killed her, he gave her a twisted declaration of love, claiming that now he was free to love her, and she should be free to love him and JENOVA.
༻❁༺ His other hand caressed her curvy figure, starting from her lovely bust, trailing down to her child-bearing hips and then all the way to her thick thighs. He couldn't help but adore how she remained unchanged, even after all this time. She's been always the same Nee-San.
༻❁༺ He couldn't forget about her lovely bush. He couldn't resist running his gloved thumb through it, relishing how the hairs reacted to his touch.
༻❁༺ Last but not least, her pulsating cunt seemed to call for his attention. He was curious to explore it. He asked for her permission in a sweet, nostalgic tone, reminding her of his past self.
༻❁༺ Without waiting for her answer, he quickly plunged his fist within her cunt. With a disturbing sense of delight, he savored the way her juices trickled down his arm as her tight walls contracted around his fist.
༻❁༺ To him, her screams were like white noise, drowned out by his conversation with JENOVA. He casually and innocently discussed how ready Nee-San was for him, casually pushing his fist deeper and deeper. Once he reached the stopping point, he playfully prodded her cervix.
༻❁༺ Another time, he effortlessly lifted her, her head against his chest, back against his stomach as his hands softly traced her inner thighs. Pink tentacles caressed her curvy body, signaling the impending brutal breeding that awaited her.
༻❁༺ Until this point, Nee-San Darling was a virgin. Sephiroth was convinced that she had saved herself for him and JENOVA all this time. Therefore, it seems only fitting that the three of them should celebrate this union.
༻❁༺ Using JENOVA's shape-shifting powers, he morphed the tips of the tentacles to mimic the shapes of her secret dildo collection. He didn't care how tight her holes were. A horsecock tentacle there with another, a dragon cock tentacle there with another, she will take as many as "mother" he dictated.
༻❁༺ "She feels amazing, doesn't she, mother?" His slit eyes then narrowed, his lips brushed against her ear. "Do you like it, Nee-San?" he whispered, his velvety voice hoarse with desire. "Tell me you want more."
༻❁༺ It was a rhetorical question. Given that a tentacle already filled her mouth, muffling her screams.
༻❁༺ He held her steady and tight as the tentacles filled every hole of hers to the brim. In all his years, he had never witnessed her radiate such beauty. Her mako eyes rolled back in sheer bliss as JENOVA spunk dripped down her chin. Her belly and womb were visibly swollen and brimming with that same spunk.
༻❁༺ He couldn't care less about the Whispers circling around them as he prepared to take her back to the Northern Crater. His obligation as the father of their unborn, monstrous offspring dictated he act swiftly.
༻❁༺ With his mother and doll at his side, how could fate possibly put an end to Sephiroth?
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Partly inspired by me watching clips of Ukraine from Hetalia. The analogues make so much sense. 😭
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