#i feel like people are more frustrated this era with how he carries himself during interviews this time around

[wiltingdecay]

💥 and 💢 for Rowan pls :eyes: :eyes:

oh thank you so much for this i love prying open my blorbo's brain and taking a good look at what i put in there

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

uh. all of them? is all of them an acceptable answer? severe abandonment issues coming from both his parents, and the emotional neglect he received as a young child, lead rowan to have huge problems with emotional regulation, to the point of frequent dysregulation, that carried into his adult life. his autism making him easily overwhelmed by his emotions doesn't exactly make this any easier for him. he honestly thanks the gods that he's pretty inexpressive, because that makes it a lot easier to hide how big and scary all of his feelings are and how he feels like he's drowning in them. sometimes this can be good! he's frequently brought to tears by how happy he is and how much he laughs when good things happen, and when he feels loved, he feels So Loved.

but unfortunately this makes his negative emotions really hard to deal with. particularly during the plague-era and post-resurrection to early-game timelines, rowan would frequently get caught up in downwards spirals brought on by his feelings of abandonment and being unloved and that he's only a burden who can't do anything right. these spirals lead him into unhealthy and impulsive behaviour such as self harming through banging his head against things and biting himself hard enough that he bleeds, or sleeping with the first person to show any interest in him whether he actually wants to or not. this is also a big part of the reason why he became an alcoholic during the plague-era.

[gently shoves him into a therapist's office]

rowan is also semi-verbal, like me! he goes nonverbal frequently, sometimes as a response to bad shit happening, but usually just whenever there is just Too Much Damn Shit Going On! when feeling pretty much any emotion, good or bad, really strongly, rowan will get choked up and have the sensation like there's a lump in his throat he can't get rid of, and certainly can't speak past, even if he's able to think of something he wants to say in the first place.

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

see above i guess? a lot of rowan's shortcomings and character flaws that would cause conflict to arise in a relationship come from what i just described, but there are definitely a few more things (not necessarily negative things! some of these are just autistic traits that allistics tend to misunderstand/be cruel about) that can make them difficult or confusing to be around. i've said before that rowan has strange vibes that can kind of make or break a person's first impression of them.

rowan stares a lot. they don't necessarily mean it or even realise that they're doing it a lot of the time, but it still happens. rowan has a pretty intense stare, and because he's six feet tall and got piercings all over, this can be unintentionally very intimidating. a lot of people don't like that.

due to aforementioned issues and a touch of an inferiority complex, rowan is painfully insecure. this is another reason why they have a habit of sleeping around (though they would never do this if in a relationship, rowan's not a cheater). they seek validation a lot and frequently need to be showed and told that yes, they really are loved, and no, they're not just going to be abandoned again. this can be confusing to people who don't see why rowan would have any reason to think this way, and off-putting and frustrating for people who think they're just being whiney.

rowan's impulse control is uh. bad. anyone who's ever lived with him knows its a given that sometimes he'll just chop his hair off or get his tongue pierced in a dubiously clean salon or wake up with a tramp stamp after a night of bar hopping or have a threesome with some random old couple who told him he was a very nice boy. all of these are real examples.

rowan is pretty much always stimming. if he's not doing something with his hands he's humming or chewing on something or playing with his hair or tapping his feet or bouncing his leg or making some kind of repeated sounds or... the list goes on. he's considerate, though. he doesn't do anything noisy if it would bother someone, and he'll usually suck on something instead of chewing if he needs an oral stim but isn't in an environment where biting his own hand or drooling would be acceptable. doesn't stop dipshits from thinking he's freaky and weird for it, though, but people who actually know and care for him just accept it as a fundamental part of who he is that they wouldn't want to change.

like i touched on earlier, rowan is sometimes nonverbal. unfortunately there are people who think he's weird for this, thinking he's too quiet and therefore up to something, if they aren't just straight up calling him ableist slurs for it. thankfully, like with his stimming, people who are close to him understand completely once they get used to it and know why it happens, and they're perfectly willing to work around it and let rowan speak when he's able for it.

#this was very fun thank you #asks #drustvar #rowan aisling #rowan lore

[huccimermaidshirts]

He has to do interviews for promotional reasons lol. He's not obligated to make them interesting if he doesn't want to though and nor is anyone obliged to watch them. Getting mad because ppl want him to share things he clearly doesn't want to is silly. We don't have to watch every single thing he does. Its a choice!

I mean he kind of has to make things interesting since he's promoting his work, but overall yes! We do choose to watch every little interview and it hasn't been a secret that he likes to repeat himself (harrie drinking game: take a shot every time he says bowling with the bumpers up🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣). Do i think he needs to work the whole evasiveness and if he wants to repeat himself to do it a little more masterfully? Yes! Will i get mad every time he does it? Not really, because he amuses me a lot lol!

#it's those boundaries he kept talking about in the interview! hard enforcing them now it seems #i feel like people are more frustrated this era with how he carries himself during interviews this time around #el gets an ask

[comfortwriting]

Unexpected Part 2 - R.L

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

Remus Lupin (Marauders Era) x Fem Reader

Unexpected Part 2, please read Part 1 if you haven't already.

About: Lupin finds out he's about to be a father, but he isn't happy about it, in fact, he's terrified, believing that someone like him could never be a good father.

A/N: Thank you for all the love on Part 1 - I know this second part has been long-awaited, thank you for all the love, support and reading Part 1!

Warnings: Swearing, mention of abortion.

"The baby I'm carrying" you choked "it's yours."

Remus shook his head, appearing as if he had been stunned, disarmed during a duel "Mine? It can't be mine!"

"Well it is, Remus!" you argued, your throat sore and burning "You're the only person I've slept with!"

Remus swallowed hard, still shaking his head and rubbing the back of his head with his hand that was covered in marks, he thought back to the last night you had spent together, how he was quick to finish and banish you away from the bedroom, then ignoring you for weeks until now.

Sirius stared at his best friend, unsure whether or not he would flip out, so he walked closer to you, pushing himself in front to protect you  - but Lupin wasn't violent, he got angry and could be very harsh when upset or annoyed, but he couldn't even lay a finger on you, no matter how angry he got, as long as the moon wasn't full.

"I understand if you're scared," you cried "believe me, I am too."

Remus couldn't stand this: the sight of you scared and crying, his best friend protecting you from him, the fact that his baby - a miniature monster would be growing inside of you, the same miniature monster that would have a poor excuse of a father. He wouldn't have this, he couldn't.

"If you're smart, like I know you are, you'll get rid of it." He snapped, not caring if he hurt your feelings.

"Please don't talk like that!" you raised your voice at him, walking closer to him, away from Sirius.

"No!" he yelled, his anger and insecurities getting the better of him "We shouldn't - we cannot continue like this, it was a mistake to let whatever we have to go on for this long, look where it's gotten us!"

"You don't get to piss off for a few weeks, ignore me, come back and force me into a decision I haven't made!" you yelled back, no longer caring who could hear you.

Sirius took hold of your hand, comforting you, debating whether or not if now was the time to challenge his best friend and talk him out of the hole he's digging.

"Why do you think I ignored you?" Remus yelled again "Get rid of it before you ruin its life and mine! Don't force this upon me!"

"Mooney, calm down, stop yelling at her alright?" Sirius interrupted James and Lily not far behind now, breaking into a sprint.

"You of all people have no right to get involved!" Remus pointed at him, glaring.

"What's happened to you?" you croaked "How could you be this cold?"

Your hot tears rolled down your red cheeks, you stared into his eyes - how could this be the same Remus your heart skipped beats over? How something that came from an accident gets him so angry? How could he accuse you of sleeping with his best friend?

Remus stared back into your eyes, he looked upset, frustrated, but after a while, he looked at the floor, he couldn't look you in the face because you were right. How could he disappear like nothing happened that night? How could he ignore you, but be in the company of his best friends? You considered yourself worthy of that title long ago.

James and Lily finally caught up, out of breath, concerned, and confused about what was unfolding in front of them. Lily approached you and stood by your side, wrapping her arm around you, trying to ask you what was going on - you shook your head and cried into her arms whilst James separated Sirius and Remus.

"Mooney! Padfoot! What the hell is going on?!" He hissed, looking between the two of them.

Remus shook his head, your words affecting him more than you had meant - his eyes were glassy and his lips were trembling. "There's nothing else to say, Prongs." he shrugged, turning around and walking away.

Sirius tried to go after him, but you and James grabbed him, keeping him in line so he didn't get into any more trouble.

Sitting in the empty common room in front of the large and warm fire, you and Lily cuddled up together, her hands stroking your arm for comfort.

"I can't imagine how scary this is for you, Y/N," she said softly.

You shrugged "It's less scary knowing I have you and the others, but I can't understand how he got so angry so fast." you sighed "he accused me of sleeping with Sirius!"

Lily was no stranger when it came to Mooney, Padfoot, and Prongs. For a long time, Lily couldn't stand James and she frequently turned him down and insulted him until you encouraged her to see through his ego and give him a chance. With James constantly drooling over her to Sirius, he knew who she was too and he often tried to get her to talk to James, but even he couldn't play matchmaker quite well as you.

Unknown to you, Lily and Remus were good friends - not best friends - but she knew things about him that even you didn't know, she got to find out his insecurities, she helped him as the full moon lingered around the corner, she saw the vulnerable side to him that you didn't - Remus trusted her on that level; it would crush you knowing that the lad you frequently slept with trusted another girl more than you, with his deepest and darkest secrets.

Lily pursed her lips and frowned, the orange glow from the fire complimenting her hair and eyes.

"He's going through a lot." she sighed, pushing some hairs out of her face.

James and Sirius watched the two of you from afar, talking to one another.

"What do you think she'll do?" James asked.

Sirius shrugged "I don't know," he said sadly "But she can't go through this alone."

"That doesn't give him the excuse to treat me like that!" you cried, pulling away from Lily.

"I never said that it does," she said calmly "he's just going through things you wouldn't understand."

Sirius and James exchanged looks, both of them confused about Lily's knowledge - like you, the both of them were unaware of the friendship between Lily and Remus.

"And you do?!" You huffed, glaring at her.

"Y/N, please don't turn this into something it isn't-"

You shook your head and scrambled off the sofa, how could you keep it? You had only just found out and everything that had come with it was already too much to handle.

You felt sick, furious, hurt, broken, you were stupid enough to continue being involved with someone who got so jealous, who fucked his feelings out and got you knocked up. You didn't want to be around anyone but Sirius, he always knew how to help, how to cheer you up and keep you level headed.

Storming past Lily, you grabbed hold of Padfoot's hand and dragged him through the portrait hole.

"Where are we going?" he asked quietly, trying not to get caught.

You shrugged, more tears streaming down your face "I don't know, for a walk, anywhere but here."

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl @impulse-anchor @impossiblekingdomheart

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic #james & peter & remus & sirius #remus lupin #Remus Lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #hp marauders #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley one shot

[strange-lace]

I've been meaning to write something in response to the spider Wukong design that @winterpower98 and @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off have drawn for my Spider Monkie AU! Also features my ship with this AU of Wukong/Spider Queen/Macaque. So here you go!

But content warning for body horror and brief descriptions of blood! Also has brief spoilers for the season 2 finale.

It felt almost like the end of era to Spider Queen when she and the others ventured back down to their old home to start cleaning things out without the threat of the Lady Bone Demon looming over them all. It was one thing for her to start living on Flower Fruit Mountain with the idea in mind that it is a temporary arrangement but this made it feel all the more permanent to her. The idea of never having to live in the ruins, the constant reminders of her fallen reign, and instead live surrounded by greenery, sunlight, and fresh air…

Well, it made the scars, angry and red from where her skin met the scalding liquid of the brazier, not as difficult to look at.

It was enjoyable in a sense, going through her things for moving. Old spell books, faded robes, half finished blueprints. Having Wukong and Macaque there certainly helped, the two monkeys providing their own brand of commentary that never failed to get a chuckle or exasperated groan from her.

Though that changed once they inevitably had to start clearing out the lab.

Syntax, understandably, chose to start transporting things back to the mountain at that moment, Goliath and Huntsman making the decision to go with him. The former because he was concerned about leaving Syntax alone with how shaken he looked and the latter… well even now, Spider Queen couldn’t quite understand those two’s dynamic. They certainly weren’t as antagonistic towards each other like they used to but that didn’t leave them bickering any less than before.

Even though Spider Queen had long since adjusted to the constant gnawing of guilt, it definitely felt like a jab to the gut to see Syntax as he hurried to leave and be back above ground. Far away from the lab and the memories that came with it.

He was in such a hurry that he had not noticed the screwdriver which he had left on the ground.

A gentle prod from Macaque snapped her out of it.

“Hey, c’mon, let’s get through this old junk quick before someone else gets any ideas, okay?”

She could still hear his screams when the experiments were at their worst. How he was barely coherent afterwards, looking so small and vulnerable as she did her best to make sure he was comfortable. How the pain persisted despite the experiments being a “success” and the burning hatred in the Monkey King’s eyes as he glared her down with Macaque in his arms.

“Right, yes, of course,” she mumbled. Macaque was about to say more before all four of his eyes went wide at the sight of something behind her. Spider Queen turned as quickly as she could with her mechanical spider legs and nearly had a heart attack at the sight of Wukong picking up an unused glass tank of her venom that was twice his size.

“Wukong, for all that is heavenly, be careful with that!”

“I got it, I got it! Don’t worry, I’ve carried heavier things than this,” he said as if that actually made either of them feel any better.

To his credit, he kept his balance and grip on the tank well enough that Spider Queen and Macaque felt like they could breathe.

Until he stepped on the same screwdriver that Syntax had accidentally left behind in his rush to leave.

And try as he might, Wukong couldn’t right his balance in time.

Spider Queen swore the world had gone into slow motion in that moment.

The Monkey King landed flat on his back, eyes going wide in horror at the sight of the tank right on top of him. Before he could even move, the tank landed on his body with the glass casing shattering on impact. Without thinking, Spider Queen grabbed Macaque and leaped until they were on the ceiling, far from the reach of the spider venom as it spilled all over Wukong and the lab floor with nothing to contain it anymore.

For a brief moment, they were both silent in horror as Wukong remained motionless before jolting upwards, coughing up a storm.

“Oh gross, I think it got in my mouth!” He sputtered in outrage and Spider Queen let out a sigh of relief. He was still cognizant and not a mindless slave, that was a good sign that the venom didn’t work that way without the spider robots. Perhaps it had become less potent, simply left down here without anyone to maintain it?

That didn’t stop her from insisting that she or Syntax look him over for any possible side effects back on Flower Fruit Mountain, despite the Monkey King’s protests that he was fine. Though, eventually, he caved in.

And to her great relief, there didn’t seem to be any.

“See, what did I tell you? Everything’s fine and I’m fine. You don’t gotta worry about me, that energy is better spent somewhere else.” His eyes wandered towards Macaque as he said that. The monkey demon in question was trying and failing to hide the pain on his face as he rubbed at his back. Spider Queen conceded on that as it looked like she was going to have to brew another muscle relaxer for Macaque and just her luck, they just ran out of the last batch.

“Fine, then help me expend that energy by helping me get the herbs for Macaque’s medicine,” she grumbled, running a hand through her choppy hair. It was still strange, having her hair cut so short to what was a pixie cut, but it was… a welcome change. It also being that way MK did for her while she was recovering and extremely uncomfortable with her hair touching her burn scars helped but… no need to say it out loud.

Wukong followed her lead without any complaint, yet stopped for a second when he felt a weird twinge in his sides. The call of Spider Queen snapped him out of it and rushed to follow her. Yet in the back of Wukong’s mind, he couldn’t help but wonder if that wasn’t just a random pain in his sides.

Almost felt like…

Like something was squirming underneath his skin.

‘Eh, it’s probably nothing to worry about.’ He thought to himself, reaching behind him to scratch at a sudden itch on the back of his neck.

Days passed like normal after that, the permanent move to Flower Fruit Mountain a success, much to his monkeys' chagrin. They were just beginning to warm up to Goliath and were able to be around the others without Wukong having to stop them from pelting the spider demons in fruit. Typically by reminding them that, like it or not, they were also MK’s family and asking them if they wanted to make MK upset by throwing fruit at his mother and “uncles”. That usually did the trick.

Good thing too since Wukong was starting to notice he was feeling… off.

The twinging at his sides had only seemed to worsen in the following days, the sensation escalating from only happening once every two days to it happening three times a day. And while they didn’t become painful, each time it felt like there was more… force behind them every time they happened.

The ignored voice in the back of his head compared it to something almost trying to poke its way free.

Eventually, these “episodes” were enough to stop Wukong from whatever he was doing to try and catch his breath once his sides calmed down. He figured it was only a matter of time until one of his partners confronted him about it. This time being Macaque.

It helped that he had caught Wukong during another one of his “episodes”, this one enough to make him stumble his footsteps and make Macaque rush to catch him before the Monkey King fell ungracefully to the floor.

“Alright Wukong, what’s going on with you?”

A part of Wukong wanted to insist that it was nothing but a passing thing. But passing sensations don’t last this long.

Something was wrong.

“Remember when I dropped that vat of Queenie’s spider venom on me and she didn’t find anything wrong with me?” Horrifying realization came to Macaque’s face at that question, all four of his eyes immediately looking over Wukong for anything out of the ordinary.

“I don’t like where this is going Peaches.”

“Well… a bit ago I started feeling something odd in my sides. Like somebody was poking me. It didn’t really hurt so I thought it was no big deal and would go away on its own, y’know? It… it hasn’t gone away. In fact it’s been happening more often and getting stronger.” As he spoke, Wukong lightly rubbed at his sides, not looking directly at Macaque out of guilt.

“Peaches, I love you, but why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I thought I could handle it on my own! And we have more important things to worry about than me, like you and Queenie, y’know the people who aren’t indestructible and-” He was cut off by a light smack behind the head from Macaque, the demon looking exasperated and frustrated more than anything else.

“You idiot, just because you’re indestructible doesn’t mean that you should have kept this from SQ and me. God, you sound like the kid. We have no idea how the venom could impact your systems compared to me and now who knows what we’ll find. C’mon, we’re having Queen look at you again, no arguments.”

Wukong couldn’t find it in himself to protest. Only hope that it was merely them all being paranoid and stressed.

Those hopes promptly went out the window when Spider Queen had him take off his shirt.

On each side of his torso underneath his arms were two pairs of lumps, each the size of his palm and seemed to almost twitch when she had cautiously prodded at them to feel for bone. He was worried for a moment that everyone was going to see the peaches he had just eaten as nausea squirmed within his stomach.

“This is not good, pretty sure these same exact kind of bumps developed too when we…” Spider Queen trailed off, eyes lingering on Macaque who didn’t need to say anything to show that he understood what she meant. “But this doesn’t make any sense, it took weeks for them to develop at this stage and yet it’s been little more than a week, barely two.” She looked extremely frazzled, trying to make sense of this. Syntax didn’t look any better himself, lime green hair a tousled mess compared to its usual put-together appearance.

“It could be a case of biology, my queen. Wukong’s biology is… incomprehensible to put it politely. With all the methods put into extending his immortality and Macaque’s own biology, it would be pointless to try and compare them and their reactions to the venom. And with how fast these limbs seem to be developing in comparison, it may have already been too late to use the antivenom the moment his skin made contact and he ingested the venom,” he rambled yet Wukong didn’t miss the look of sympathy sent his way at that final statement.

Wukong felt numbness, not sure how to process knowing it was too late for him from the get go.

The sensation of something squirming hitting him again and knowing that it was new limbs developing right under his ribs only made his nausea worse.

He barely noticed Macaque gently pulling him into a hug until his face was buried in coarse purple fur, four arms holding him while the monkey demon nuzzled his cheek.

“Hey, look on the bright side, Peaches. It’s looking like you won’t be growing any new eyes like me. Can’t get any worse than that, right?” Wukong could only give him a small, fond smile that could not even begin to communicate his exhaustion, fear, but relief that Macaque was at least trying to comfort him. For a brief moment, he felt a bit calmer and wasn’t bathed in dread about what was inevitably about to come.

That temporary peace was shattered the moment Wukong felt a stabbing sensation in his sides.

A pain which only seemed to intensify by the second.

He had to leave. Now.

“I-I’m so-sorry, I have to-” Wukong cut himself with a scream of pain as it spiked for a brief moment to a level that his mind was only white hot agony. He stumbled out of Macaque’s embrace and ran off, no clear destination in mind except that he needed to be away.

He could faintly hear Macaque and Spider Queen calling for him to come back, yet he didn’t listen.

The trees blurred as he ran past them and he stumbled into the first temple, nearly tripping on the stone steps and slamming the door behind him. In his blind, pain-filled panic he was able to pile the dusty and old furniture in front of the door to keep anybody out before the pain left him to fall to his knees. Wukong struggled to breath, his lungs feeling like they were on fire.

He couldn’t breathe. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Wukong could only open his mouth in a silent scream of pain, writhing on the floor in a poor attempt to alleviate his suffering. White hot pain ran down his spine as it felt like someone was pulling at it like taffy, skin stretching and organs rearranging underneath his flesh. He gasped in air once the unbearable heat seemed to recede only to let out a groan as it traveled down to his legs. Wukong swore that he could hear the bones in his legs creaking as they grew and thickened, muscles following their lead to fortify them as if ready to carry a great weight.

He sighed, feeling like he could breathe again while noticing that his clothes didn’t feel right anymore.

The brief moment of peace was shattered as Wukong was overtaken by pure agony as he felt something trying to push through his sides.

This time, he couldn’t hold in the screech that bellowed from his lungs.

Spider Queen and Macaque, desperately searching for Wukong, nearly jumped out of their skin as a roar of distress echoed through the forests of Flower Fruit Mountain. They two shared a silent look before running off in the direction of the sound’s origin, his ears leading the way as they twitched to and fro to track their idiot partner down.

“It came from here, I can hear him inside,” Macaque said yet the grim look on his face told her that that wasn’t all. The door didn’t budge when she attempted to pull it open, something heavy on the other side. Rapidly losing patience knowing that Wukong was on the other side and already in the throes of the transformation, Spider Queen felt she could be forgiven about what she needed to do next.

She stepped back before charging at the doors, her shoulder taking the brunt of force.

The fact that she caused the makeshift barricade on the other side to go flying across the temple was of no concern to her. The sight of Wukong curled up in a fetal position on the floor was.

“Peaches!” “Peachykins!”

They were both at his side in an instant, Macaque gently taking the Monkey King off the floor. Immediately he could feel something had changed. Wukong was taller, heavier in his arms.

Gods if that didn’t bring back memories he’d much rather bury.

“You shouldn’t… you two shouldn’t be here,” Wukong wheezed, voice raspy for obvious reasons.

“Quiet you, if you think for a second that we were going to let you deal with this alone, then it seems that venom messed with your brain too. I wasn’t alone for this, so neither should you.” Spider Queen nodded in agreement, running his fingers through his fur in her best attempt to offer him comfort.

Wukong whimpered as the heat and pressure against his sides seemed to grow and grow. Faintly in the back of his head, he could feel that wasn’t the only thing changing. Peach fur darkened as it grew thicker and longer into what was practically a mane. His claws became longer and sharper. For a moment, his entire world was bathed in green instead of gold before his vision returned to normal.

He should feel horrified, to feel himself changing, shifting without any sort of control or way to stop it in front of his partners to add salt to the wound. Feel helpless, powerless, weak.

Yet all that remained on the forefront of his mind was the pain.

“You’re doing amazing Wukong, I promise it’ll be over soon.”

“You just need to hold on a bit longer.”

Just when the pressure and heat had become borderline unbearable and Wukong was on the cusp of passing out, he could just barely hear the sound of ripping past the pounding in his ears.

Cloth ripping as well as something else. Something wet.

Macaque and Spider Queen were knocked back by the force of something punching its way out of the Monkey King's sides, their backs meeting the opposing sides of the room.

Wukong could feel blood dripping down his sides and his entire being ached, not too different from when he had been freed from under the mountain after 500 years. And yet all he could feel was sweet relief, body already working over time to heal his wounds and stop the bleeding. Letting himself a moment to breathe, he cautiously pulled himself up into a sitting position.

Or at least tried, as he fumbled back to the floor the moment he saw just how much his body changed.

Evidently even his “biology” felt the need to one up Macaque as Wukong tested his four new arms. He couldn’t help but mourn the fate of his clothes as it was obvious they were a lost cause, his shirt nothing but scraps of cloth barely able to contain his broader chest and orange stained with red. His pants, while not torn, were now much too short to cover his legs entirely. He could feel that his phoenix feather headdress had managed to get tangled up the much thicker fur which trailed from his head.

Cautiously, he began to move his new appendages. His limbs were clumsy but he slowly began to get the hang of it, belatedly noticing that the fur of his new arms got progressively paler. The second pair more closer resembled his old fur color while the third pair was pure white, all the colors converging around his sides. Or at least it looked like that, since the fur of his sides was sticky and caked with dried blood which stained it a dark red.

Groans of pain pulled him back to focus to see Spider Queen and Macaque pulling themselves off the floor, nursing bumps on the back of their heads from colliding with the walls.

“You… two alright?” His voice was still scratchy and now he had exhaustion weighing on his eyelids.

“Bit of a bump but we’ll live. Shouldn't have been so close honestly. What about you Peachykins?” Spider Queen asked, offering her hand to help him up while trying not to stare at the dried blood crusting his fur. Without hesitation, Wukong took her hand and let himself be lifted back on to his feet. He winced, muscles aching both old and new ones and started to try stretching out the new kinks in his spine.

Spider Queen meanwhile blushed at the fact that she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes now, doing her best to not stare at his muscled and bare chest. Macaque was no better as his eyes looked over Wukong's form, though he had the benefit of fur to hide his flushed cheeks. Their eyes met and they both came to a similar conclusion.

They were doomed.

"Feels weird and I ache all over but…" Wukong gave them both a slow grin once he noticed that he had to look down to see them both, "I think I could get used to this. Got a feeling you guys don't have a problem with it either, am I right?"

Oh they were so doomed.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #lego monkie kid spoilers #spider monkie au #three bastardeers shipping #sun wukong #spider queen #macaque #my writing #fanfiction

[shini--chan]

Pardon me if you are busy but may I please have headcannons on what would the allies/axis+Prussia do if the reader insulted them, such rubbing their worst historical moments and calling them degrading names? I am sorry if this is too long, just Prussia would be alright too.

Well, I have a character limit, so I’ll be going with just Prussia.

Yandere Prussia – Reproachment

“You know that acting all macho won’t disguise just how insecure you are on the inside”, you quipped, sitting on the bench by the door with your arms crossed. You were being spiteful, nose in the air and a very unbefitting sneer on your lips. It was the sneer a duchess would carry should she be lectured by  a tutor and in Gilbert’s opinion, such an expression didn’t belong on the face of a decent person.

He decided to ignore your jab, knowing from his military days that a person with common sense would not dare venture further if it didn’t provoke the rejection they wanted and even apologize.

“Yeah, yeah”, he commented, stripping off his drenched jacket and running a hand through his wet hair. “Take off your clothes and get yourself something dry. Won’t do to have you catch a cold.”

As it was, he had found you at the bus stop nearby, or more accurately, in the bus trying to convince the driver to let you tag along even though you had neither ticket or money or manners. Therefor, it had been easy for Gilbert to convince his long-time acquaintance that you were merely hysteric and confused because your life had recently been upended. Which was the genuine truth.

You abruptly stood up, fists clenched at your sides and eyes wild. The fact that you were soaked from head to toes and your shoes squeaked robbed you of any intimidation factor that you could have had.

“Don’t play that game with me. You know exactly what I mean. All this, keeping me locked up, commanding me about, not allowing me to leave, claiming to love me. It is all compensation. You want to feel powerful again and you do that by controlling me”, you ranted, spittle flying when you hissed out the harder letters.

Prussia glanced at you, an eyebrowed raised to indicate that he was very unimpressed by the little speech you were delivering. Francis had once remarked that it was the exact same expression that Rosbif always wore when he was scolding somebody, yet Gilbert couldn’t bring himself to care. It was of the stern variety and got the point across, making the person it was targeted at feel pathetic.

However, it only seemed to spur you onwards. Raging, you hissed at him, an index finger raised threatingly:

“After you were rightfully crushed by Russia during the Second World War he took you in and held you under his thumb. Did his best to fashion you into a good comrade. Although, I heard you actually liked the whole thing. I bet you begged him to beat you up, to reopen your wounds on pour alcohol inside. I bet you got hard from…”

You didn’t get the chance to cap your tirade off. A resounding crack echoed as he slapped you firmly, causing you to fall over. Your cheek glowed an angry red and you let out a yelp of surprise. Meanwhile, Gilbert turned his back on you, preventing you from seeing his fury.

“Tomorrow, we’ll be having a few history lessons on East Germany in the latter half of the 20th century. Afterwards, we’ll see if you’ll still be so keen on spreading such misinformation”, he gritted out and stormed away into the kitchen.

At first, Gilbert would brush off your petty insults, chock them up to you being frustrated and deciding to let your anger out on him. Something that wouldn’t sit well with him yet he would be lenient and give you that chance to back down. In anger, a person often says thing that they regret later. He would probably just view you as having to blow off some steam. Which would be why he would laugh off most of your cutting words and lock in your room until you would have calmed down.

However, should you persist and insistent on dragging him through the mud, then he would get rough. Depending on the severity of your defamations, he would either give you a slap on the wrists or wash your mouth out with soap and give you a few thorough history lessons.

Of all people to be at odds with, Gilbert would be one of the worst. I see him as having worked for the Stasi during the DDR-era, and that would mean he would be very skilled at demolishing a person’s psyche. You’d be best advised not to go to war against him.

#yandere hetalia #yandere prussia #x reader #yandere hetalia x reader #yandere x reader

[doreamu-san]

An analysis of SolKy

Hello! Thank you so much for clicking on this. A while ago, I was asked to do an essay explaining why people ship SolKy other than the whole rivals/opposites attract reason, and I got a lot of feedback stating it was useful for newcomers to the ship! As a result I’ve decided to post this on tumblr, but just on the ship’s tag as to not bother uninterested people.

A couple of disclaimers before I begin. This is firstly just my own opinion, so whilst it makes sense for me, other shippers may disagree with my points. I’m also not claiming they are canon because they are not. But I do hope it’ll give some insight into why some people like me enjoy them together.

Even once you’ve read this essay, you can still dislike SolKy. This isn’t an essay stating you have to ship them.

This will be extremely long as I basically cover every single interaction they’ve ever had with each other since I know some people sort of gloss over their dialogue, so grab yourself a drink, get comfy, and I hope you enjoy reading!

(Last edited: 09/05/2021. This will be updated again when Strive releases!)

How this all began

If we’re starting right at the beginning, it’s common knowledge that Ky and Sol weren’t exactly on great terms and often clashed most of the time due to their conflicting beliefs. Ky saw the world in terms of black and white, and had very strict rules on what constituted as right and wrong. Sol seemed to think differently and went against that, which was a stark contrast compared to the other Order members at the time.

Considering that they were in fact, in the middle of a war, you would think that generally people would be willing to put their differences aside and work together.

But Sol wasn’t like everyone else, going off and doing his own thing instead of actually listening to orders, so it’s understandable why Ky found him rather irritating.

However, Ky did grow curious of Sol. Obviously curiosity does not equate to love, but it is the basis of Ky wanting to become more friendly with and know more about Sol. There seemed to be something that Sol knew but Ky didn’t, but how was that possible..? As a result, despite how infuriating he could be, Ky sought to seek out the truth and so fought him for answers.

In regards to why exactly they fight (aside from the fact that this is a fighting game), Ishiwatari wrote something called ‘Hostility is Akin to Love’ right above a picture of them fighting:

Hostility is akin to love Thinking of your opponent’s actions to fight, Reading your opponent’s inner thoughts to fight, Planning attacks that will hit your opponent to fight, And then transmitting your thoughts with those attacks, The more you think of your own advantage, at the same time you think of your opponent, In the instant you mix with your opponent, a passionate feeling arises, and blood boils, Reality is hurt, and you wound your opponent, Hostility is akin to love. — Guilty Gear Isuka Mook

It states how fighting someone can be close to feelings of love because you have to think about what your opponent is doing, as well as how you’re going to respond to your opponent. Overtime, you start to memorise how your opponent thinks, and as a result you’ll know them on a deeper level.

So considering the above, this explains how even though they weren’t on friendly terms, they still formed a bond with one another.

Now we’ve established how exactly their relationship started, and why Ky was curious about Sol in the first place, let’s look at things from Sol’s perspective.

Sol’s attitude towards Ky

We know that Sol was also pretty annoyed by Ky, which was totally justifiable given the extreme way in which Ky thought the world worked. But Sol didn’t exactly dislike Ky.

In order to provide some evidence that Sol cares about Ky, let’s cover that infamous scene everyone likes to reference which shows Sol crying over Ky’s dead body:

Sol:     "I came to pick you up." Ky:      "Always coming late... you never could fix that..." Sol:     "You..." Ky:      "As to be expected... until the very end... I could never beat you..." Sol:     "Don't say anything!" Ky:      "I have... a request..." Sol:     "I said shut up!" Ky:      "After Commander Kliff... carry on... the Holy Order..." Sol:     "Stop it... that's your job!" Ky:      "Please... promise me..." Sol:     "Dammit..." Ky:      "If it's you... you can do..." Sol:     "Hey.... what's wrong. Hey! KYYYYYY!" — Guilty Gear XX Drama CD Side Red, Battle of Rome — Deathmatch

A lot of people bring this quote up when discussing SolKy and yes, it does show Sol cares about Ky considering how Sol never really cares about anyone in general, but the fact that Ky’s death managed to make him emotional shows what an impact Ky had on him. There are however more quotes that show Sol’s feelings.

There’s this scene in the GG Xtra manga, Ky and Sol get attacked by a mountain-sized gear. In order to save them, Sol rips off his limiter and Dragon Installs. This scene is very poignant when you take into consideration what Sol said in After Story A:

Sol:     "Back during the Crusades, before we met... Kliff told me this rumour about a prodigy swordsman." Sol:     "If you couldn't guess, that was you. I didn't give a shit at the time..." Sol:     "But then I saw you on the battlefield." Sol:     "I saw someone out there who surpassed all of my expectations. Or perhaps I should say 'something.'" Sol:     "No openings, no wasted movements, no carelessness, no hesitation, no embarrassment, not even any honor. No chivalry or mercy. A being unaffected by emotion." Sol:     "You were a killing machine. Taking down gears with brutal efficiency." Ky:      "...That was a long time ago." Sol:     "I'm not done talking. I've seen the face of the 'serious' Ky." Sol:     "Then one day, you challenged me." Sol:     "You wanna know what I thought right then?" Ky:      "..." Sol:     "I was afraid. Hell, I was scared shitless." Sol:     "'He figured out that I'm a Gear, and he's come to kill me.' That's what I thought." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, After Story A

Sol admits that he knows just how scary Ky can be. Since Ky was extremely against Gears, if Ky found out that Sol was a Gear, then Ky would have most likely attempted to kill him. But Sol knew this and was willing to die for Ky’s sake, and transformed anyway:

Ky:      "Sol..." Ky:      (Really... that's really..) Ky:      (That's really you!?) Ky:      "SOL!" Sol:     "Shut it..." Sol:     "I didn't do it..." Sol:     "To help you out—...." — Guilty Gear Xtra, Chapter 5: Unspeakable Thoughts

Going off on a bit of a tangent from Sol’s feelings, but I just want to point out Ky’s state of mind at this point. Ky in this time period was still very anti-Gear, as it was only through this moment and his encounters with Solaria and Dizzy later that made him change his way of thinking. It took a long time for Ky to accept Gears, and he still had the remains of that mindset in him when he had Sin, as he refused to make eye contact with him because Ky was ashamed of having a Gear child. So the fact that Ky knew Sol was a Gear, believed all Gears were evil, but still decided to accept Sol into his life and wanted to support him regardless of that, is interesting.

Back to Sol, another small quote that manages to show Sol’s feelings towards Ky is this:

Sol:     (Maybe I'll finish them off while I'm at it...) Sol:     (But that would mean breaking my promise to Ky...) — Guilty Gear XX Accent Core Plus R, Sol Badguy Path 2

Now, Sol doesn’t care about 99% of what other people do as long as they don’t get in his way. The fact that he intends to keep his promise with Ky suggests that he holds Ky in somewhat ‘high’ regards compared to others.

There’s also this quote that shows Sol is thinking about Ky in Overture:

The frustrations of the man wielding a giant sword were piling day by day, and a familiar face appeared in his head. What’s he up to right now? “Hmph, whatever…” With a feeling of self-contempt, Sol Badguy shook his head. What am I getting sentimental for? — Guilty Gear 2: Overture, #0 “Noise”

And when Sol encounters Raven later on after seeing Ky incapacitated, Raven points out how he can tell Sol is upset, meaning Sol’s not really doing a good job of pretending he’s still indifferent to Ky.

Raven: "You're as ruthless as ever, huh, monster?" Sol:      "Look who's talking." Raven: "Can you not put down your sword and talk? I understand you're upset with Ky Kiske defeated." Sol:      "I'll ask your corpse for answers." — Guilty Gear 2: Overture, #5 "Gaze of the Chronicle"

Sol’s thoughts about Ky become even clearer during his confrontation with Sin when he’s under the influence of Valentine, where Sol defends Ky’s actions and tries to make Sin understand Ky is not 100% at fault:

Sin:     "Can you see it? Can you feel it? This is my real power. This is my mother's strength." Sol:     "But it's light. It must be from your father." Sin:     "Shut up! Don't ever mention him!" Sin:     "He abandoned my mother and me using justice as an excuse!" Sin:     "Who cares about the King!? Who cares about the people!? That man, and that Kingdom, not one of them can protect a damn thing!" Sol:     "I don't give a damn about your family." Sol:     "But you know what, Ky may be a stubborn idiot, but at least he's true to his beliefs." Sol:     "A punk like you is still alive thanks to his justice." — Guilty Gear 2: Overture, #15 "Roaring Compass"

Okay, that’s the pre-Xrd era for Sol done, now to focus on Ky’s pre-Xrd’s emotions.

Ky’s attitude towards Sol

We’ve established earlier that Ky was annoyed by Sol and disliked him in the Crusades. However, afterwards it seems as if Ky saw himself as friends with Sol:

Ofc1:   "All of them seem to have been destroyed by... fire?" Ofc2:  "Yeah... why could that be?" Ky:      "........" Ky:      "Change our course!" Ky:      "Head towards the Eastern United States!" Ofc1:   "May I ask why, Chief Ky?" Ky:      "To meet an old friend." — Guilty Gear Xtra, Chapter 4: Former Friends

We know that Ky outwardly expressed his first signs of liking Sol when Sol stole the Fuuenken and Ky chased after him, only for Sol to win in their duel, and Ky says this:

Ky:      "Promise me one thing..." Sol:     "..What?" Ky:      "We'll meet again." Sol:     "Hmph... Well, if fate brings us together..." Ky:      "..That's fine." — Guilty Gear XX Accent Core Plus R, Sol Badguy Path 1

It’s pretty interesting that Ky wanted to see Sol again despite how Sol never used to listen to his orders, and how Sol never even tried to act like what the Order expected their men to act like (chivalrous, putting the people first, etc). It at least shows us that Ky saw possibly the potential of becoming friends with Sol. And Sol didn’t even say straight up ‘no’ or ‘in your dreams’ or whatever Badguy-esque notion he usually would’ve done, so we can assume he doesn’t mind seeing Ky again either.

Then they don’t speak to each other properly for 5 years until the tournament that Testament holds, though they have probably ran into each other a few times within those years.

A common misconception people have is that during those 5 years, Ky was obsessed with Sol and would constantly try to find him. Obviously, this is not true. Ky was busy with IPF stuff and Sol was hunting Gears down.

However, it’s not as if Ky completely forgot about Sol — he was just probably at the back of his mind, and Ky does admit that he has been chasing after Sol the most more than anyone else:

Ky:      (Waiting outside for me when I left the ship... burning red flames. Soon, they seem to take the shape of a man... and he appears before me. Yes... it's him. The one I've been after the most... it's him.) — Guilty Gear X Drama CD, Vol. 1: Track Seven — Crater

There’s also these two other quotes:

Ky:      (Sol...) Ky:      (Why are you so stubborn about doing things alone?) — Guilty Gear Xtra, Chapter 5: Unspeakable Thoughts

You can interpret this in two ways: either Ky wants to help Sol out and/or he’s curious as to why Sol always does stuff alone.

And then there’s this:

Ky:      "Maintaining peace, law, and order. That is my duty." Sol:     "Whatever..." Ky:      "You and I, we are cut from the same cloth." Ky:      "How long are you going to keep that facade?" Sol:     "..." Ky:      "Answer me Sol!" — Guilty Gear Judgment, Sol and Ky Ending

Being ‘cut from the same cloth’ is quite a strong statement. The phrase means that Ky thought he and Sol were similar somehow, and that he shared something with Sol. Regardless, the ‘how long are you going to keep that facade’ at least shows that Ky knows Sol is intentionally acting distant/rough/etc. and that its not actually who he is.

Jumping to pre-Overture, just before Ky gives Sin to Sol, Ky is in a really depressive state due to all of the stress he’s been going through. This leads Dizzy to contact Sol. The fact that Sol is called means that Dizzy knows that Sol is possibly the only person who can help Ky at that point, which puts some emphasis on just how much Sol means to Ky or at least affects him.

Before I move onto Xrd, there’s this part where Ky gives his son to Sol. This proves he trusts Sol so much considering he was asking him to take care of Sin for a long period of time.

Ky:      “Sol....I want to request something...” Sol:     “...hnn?” Ky:      “My son....Sin..can you take care of him for a while?” Sol:     “...what did you say?” Ky:      “I know it’s unreasonable but...I still want to ask...” — GG2: Overture Story, Sol's Story

The Xrd era (because it is so long, it needs its own section)

The Xrd era is extremely interesting to me, because Sol and Ky have some more in-depth conversations, and boy, do they have a lot of conversations.

Focusing on Sol first, theres a scene in REV where Sol asks Ky why he isn’t interested in his past:

Sol:     "Why don't you ask me already?" Ky:      "Ask you what?" Sol:     "About my past." Ky:      "I can ask you?" Sol:     "I guarantee, it won't be interesting." Sol:     "Every other word that came out of your mouth was 'Duel me,' or 'I challenge you!' You were so eager to fight and..." Ky:      "........" — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Chapter 03, Sense A

Given that Ky was constantly pestering Sol about his background in the past, it makes sense why Sol is suddenly a bit confused about Ky’s sudden change in behaviour. But it also shows that Sol wants Ky to know about his past. After ~170+ years of being alive, Sol wants to finally open up to someone again, and he specifically chose Ky for this. It shows in the very least Sol trusts Ky and knows him well enough to decide to let him know about who he used to be.

And then Ky says this, which is basically him just showing Sol how much he cares and understands him:

Ky:      "Sol. Of course I have an interest in your past." Ky:      "But wanting to understand someone and trying to understand everything is completely different." Ky:      "Right now, Sol Badguy's future matters much more to me, than Frederick's past." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Chapter 03, Sense A

There’s also this scene in SIGN:

Ky:      "I don't know your history." Ky:      "I don't know if you had friends once, or if you fell in love, or why you burn with such hatred for That Man and the Gears..." Ky:      "I don't even know your real name." Sol:     "..." Ky:      "But I do know a great deal about a man named Sol Badguy." Ky:      "Blinded by vengeance, he lost sight of himself, and now he runs from the truth that frightens him." Sol:     "...Say that again." Ky:      "Tomorrow always comes, Sol." Sol:     "..!" Ky:      "If tomorrow promises to be cold and dark, I cannot stand idly by... even if I know my efforts will come to nothing." Sol:     "... The self-righteous apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Ky:      "I don't expect the world to change tomorrow, but I do hope that, today, perhaps my words will reach you." Ky:      "Sol..." Ky:      "I'll be waiting for you. We'll all be waiting for you. Sin, Dizzy..." Ky:      "Once all this is over... come home." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 04, Kaleidoscope B

Three things to take away from this:

Ky admits that he doesn’t know anything about Sol’s background, but that he knows a lot about the current Sol, and then goes on to explain how Sol acts. Which to expand on, means that although Ky used to care about Sol’s past, he doesn’t really mind about it anymore because Sol’s past won’t really change much who Sol is to Ky now. Also, the part where Ky explains how Sol was ‘blinded by vengeance,’etc. shows that Ky knows Sol’s current personality well enough in order to be able to distinguish his behaviours. Which is interesting because nobody has been around Sol long enough to be able to know him really well unlike Ky (Aria and Asuka count too, but they were around Sol when he was Frederick, and Sol seems pretty adamant on the idea that he’s a separate person from Frederick.)

‘Come home’ is pretty significant, as it implies that it’s almost like Ky is saying home is with Sin, Dizzy and the Valentines, and so when Sol is done getting revenge on That Man, instead of letting Sol just wander off alone, Ky wants Sol to be a family with them.

The fact that says Ky says ‘I’ll be waiting for you’ separate from ‘we’ll all be waiting for you’ implies that either Ky’s want to wait for Sol is somehow different from everyone else’s or it’s just for the sake of being dramatic. I interpreted this in both ways, as it seems like Ky knows that Sol treats him differently compared to others. So in a sense, by Ky emphasising that he’ll be waiting for Sol, it might make Sol more likely to ‘come home’.

There’s also a scene that shows Ky knows Sol’s personality well:

Ky:      "When I look at you, Sol, I see a man who is afraid." Sol:     "... What?" Ky:      "It became clear when I watched you caring for Sin." Ky:      "You work very hard to keep everyone at arm's length." Sol:     "..." Sol:     "I got Gear blood in my veins, and it ain't friendly. It's always there in the back of my head, whispering that I oughta just destroy all of this." Sol:     "The only way I'm gonna get some closure is tracking down That Man and beating some answers out of him." Sol:     "And if he doesn't have 'em..." Sol:     "Then maybe there really isn't a good way to live." Ky:      "That's why you close your heart off." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 08, Hope A

There’s also this:

Ky:      "Not all people have the strength to stand on their own." Sol:     "..." Ky:      "If only life were simple, and the right path was laid out before each of us..." Ky:      "But even then some would leave it, and some would struggle with walking it. Such is human nature..." Ky:      "The truth is that no path will ever be 'right' for all people. Each of us must find the one we are meant to walk--and sometimes that is where none exists." Ky:      "That is what I learned from you." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 08, Hope A

This just shows that Ky actually learnt something from Sol. Which I think is important because Ky is someone who always used to be very strict to his ideals. The fact that he learnt something from Sol that had an impact on his mindset means that Sol actually managed to have a great impact on Ky.

There’s this scene where Sol finds out that Aria isn’t dead when he confronts That Man, and he has somewhat of a mini mental breakdown. So Ky excuses them from the room, and goes outside to talk with Sol:

Ky:      "Sol. The grudge you hold is certainly not something that can be taken lightly. And, whatever answer you think you've found, I doubt any of us will be able to stop you from seeing it through..." Ky:      "But we have very little time left. Right now, we need the Gear Maker's help." Ky:      "So, I'm begging you... Just for now. Why don't you stay outside with me." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Chapter 06, Cause A

The last line that Ky says is interesting because it’s obvious that he’s just trying to calm Sol down, and Ky thinks that if he stays with Sol outside for a bit, he’ll be able to help him calm down. Furthermore, Ky thought it was more necessary to pause everything and help Sol out rather than keep listening to the plans of what their next course of action would be.

Ky does have the habit of comforting Sol. One of the more significant moments is whenever Sol refers to himself as a monster:

Ky:      "Yes, he took away some of what makes you human, but that doesn't mean he altered your mind or your soul." Sol:     "So what?" Ky:      "I want to believe that you'll fight for the people of this world." Sol:     "Are we seriously having this conversation?" Sol:     "Look, kid. I'm a monster. I'm here to do two things: Destroy That Man, and kill all the other Gears." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 04, Kaleidoscope B

To expand a little on Sol’s mindset, it’s common knowledge that Gears were generally in the past regarded as akin to monsters. Now we don’t have any solid proof Sol is referring to himself as a monster because he’s a Gear, or because he feels guilt about the whole Gear Project, etc. But we do know it’s something he’s affected by given that he constantly refers to himself as one.

So the fact that Ky constantly reassures him that he’s not one, and that Ky didn’t treat him differently after finding out he was a Gear, must be comforting to know.

Then at the end of REV, there’s the scene where Daryl is about to shoot Sol, because he (quite rightly) doesn’t trust the fate of the world to be left to Sol. And so, the kids get beamed up, but Ky asks to be left behind:

Ky:      "But, if you plan on targeting Sol, then you must leave me behind, as well." Daryl: "What!?" Zappa:"60 seconds until impact..!" Sol:     "What the hell are you doing?! Stay with Sin!" Ky:      "I am well aware that this is a one in a million chance..." Ky:      "But, if I survive at the expense of my dear friend, then there is little reason left for my ruling this world as king." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Final Chapter, Fireworks

This was a really odd moment because Ky’s life was never in danger at that moment. If he had been sent on board Daryl’s ship as originally planned, he would have been safe. But Ky intentionally chose to risk his life, and its kind of startling because Ky has always put his people above everything. There were times when he put the people above his own family, like when he kept his family a secret instead of coming out with the truth about them in order to remain as King to protect his people.

So Ky suddenly going ‘I would rather die with Sol than take care of my people’ is really extreme. Also Ky was willing to leave his family behind, which is even more extreme. So this just really proves how highly Ky regards Sol considering how he would rather die with him than live without him.

Some concluding notes

I think Sol and Ky’s personalities do work really well. Perhaps not in the Crusade era, but if we take a look at the Xrd era, they have shown to get along and have deep conversations with one another that they both enjoy. They know each other extremely well; they know how to support one another when life gets a bit too much and they’re also capable of telling one another when the other is wrong.

Sol teaches Ky that life isn’t as simple as it seems, and that (figuratively speaking) he shouldn’t stick exactly to the textbook. He’s able to see under that perfect image Ky puts up about him being able to cope with everything, acting as a source of stability when you consider how Sol has been the only person who’s been around Ky since the very beginning.

Throughout all of Ky’s life, he’s been under so much pressure. From being Commander in the Crusades, to becoming the Head of the International Police Force, to becoming King. In every situation, people are constantly relying on him, and his environment is changing rapidly. But despite everything, Sol has always remained the same. He looks the same, acts the same, etc. Ky can rely on Sol and trust Sol. He’s like a source of stability for Ky in those hectic times.

And Ky provides something similar to Sol too, given how often he ran into Sol time and time again. When you’ve been alive for so long, it’d feel reassuring in the very least to see a familiar face. And Sol does seem to get less annoyed each time they meet each other again, considering like how in Overture he voluntarily went to go see Ky after seeing himself on a wanted poster.

Ky also gives Sol the chance to open up to people again and form connections with them, something that Sol has been reluctant to do. Sol needs someone to care about him, and Ky proves that by constantly reassuring him and never giving up on trying to help Sol, even though he kept getting pushed away.

They may not be canon but I really do love how they work together. Yes it’s true some people may like them because they are ‘rivals’and seeing rivals get together and bicker is great, but actually I think when people focus more on how much they support and rely on each other, as well as the fact that they do get along, them being in a relationship is more convincing.

Whilst this essay focused on their canon interactions, there’s plenty of other great material out there. For instance, the Guilty Gear 4KomaKINGS manga provides plenty of great SolKy interactions (like the time Ky wanted to have a friendship diary with Sol, only to get rejected and start crying about it. Of course, take these interactions with a pinch of skepticism considering the frivolity of the source material.)

And that, was my very long SolKy essay. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading! Though you may not have agreed with everything I have said, you still continued reading, and I am grateful for that. Thank you for showing such enthusiasm and loving this franchise.

#solky

[piduai]

Interview with Noda Satoru from the Golden Kamuy fanbook

sharing anywhere is fine, but please credit me.

Q: Tell me how you feel about passing 6 years of serialization. Noda: I was already serializing at the time of my debut, so I guess I’d be able to give a summary when I’m finished. I don’t really think about how many years it’s been, it’s merely a checkpoint.

Q: What made you decide to become a mangaka? Noda: I feel like I wrote it down as my goal in my yearbook back in middle school. I also wanted to become a movie director, but as a mangaka you can create the entire thing by yourself. 

When Golden Kamuy just took off I was living in a tiny apartment and the postman, a young fellow and a reader of Young Jump, realized that I’m Noda Satoru. The magazine was sending me a lot of things, so it was rather obvious. “Are you the author of Golden Kamuy?”, he asked in a surprised tone while looking around the cramped entryway. I could feel feel his confusion regarding the fact that that vast Hokkaido world of the manga was being created in this modest apartment. Or maybe he just expected me to be making more money and afford a better place. Anyhow, I just thought again about how a manga can be created in even the smallest room in the universe.

Q: Who is your favorite character and why? Noda: As always, it’s Tanigaki. But well, I love all of them. I want to showcase only the best parts of them, and it hurts when I fail. For example I’m very happy that there’s a character who stirs the pot as well as Usami. He’d be Katsuo in the world of Sazae-san.  

Q: Which characters are the easiest to draw, and which ones are the most difficult? Noda: Characters like Shiraishi, Tsukishima and Nagakura, they don’t have a lot of hair and even if they turn out a little ugly their faces are well-defined so it’s easy to draw. In general faces that are strongly distorted and resemble caricatures are easy. Meanwhile Asirpa, Kiroranke and Inkarmat have neat facial structures on top of wearing Ainu clothing, so they are a very high-calorie effort for me. Ogata and Kikuta are difficult too. Their faces are distinctive and I have to make them look cool too, which is wearing me out the most.

Q: Have you decided on all 24 convicts at the very start of the story? Noda: Wouldn’t I sound like a badass if I said that that I have? Anyway. There were the ones that were based off real-life Meiji era criminals, such as Shiraishi, Kumagishi Chouan or the lightning couple, and of course there was Hijikata.

Q: Tell me of a funny thing from the manga that you are fond of. Noda: Gansoku’s “Hah! ☆”. And also when Koito Jr. Was flapping his arms and legs around trying to keep himself in mid-air.

Q: Why did you decide on Otaru as the starting point? Noda: I am from Hokkaido, so I’m familiar with Otaru and Sapporo. Otaru is close to both the mountains and the sea. Sapporo used to be a swampland, it’s wide and flat and there is no sea. Otaru is a place where foreigners come and go, there are many criminals roaming around creating danger, and money is found. There aren’t many big cities in Hokkaido. There were Ainu living in Otaru but sources are scarce, however Nakagawa-sensei, the supervisor over the Ainu language, told me not to worry too much about the difference of location, so I figured it would be best to make it Otaru.

Q: Was there any real life experience you had while growing up in Hokkaido that you turned into a scenario? Noda: When I was about 19 someone I knew told me that there is a locust graveyard on a nearby mountain, which sounded so ridiculous I had to laugh in their face. Turns out it indeed was a heap of locusts and their eggs left after a locust plague, that place was the Teineyamaguchi locust mound (a real historical site). I realized I ended up using this in my story. I owe that person an apology.

Q: Was there any scene that was particularly difficult to draw? Could you elaborate on it? Noda: The time Sugimoto went against Nihei and Tanigaki. It gave me a very hard time. Who goes where and does what, how does Nihei carry Asirpa, stuff like this. I had no time to waste either, I just remember that sequence overall driving me insane. 

There was also the sequence with Wilk, Sofia and Kiroranke being at Hasegawa’s photo studio. It’s really frustrating to draw something that you know will bore the readers, the story flow becomes less exciting too. I was praying for everyone to have a little more patience and keep reading, because the twist was so good.

Q: If you were to take part in the gold hunt, which group would you like to belong to? Noda: It seems that Hijikata’s group doesn’t have funding problems, and because Kadokura is there the atmosphere is relaxed too. I’d go there.

Q: If you were to find all that gold, how would you use it? Noda: No idea. Had a couple when I was younger, though.

Q: Were you planning to eventually transfer the action to Sakhalin from the very beginning of the series? Noda: Asirpa and Kiroranke have roots there, so I anticipated that the story will eventually move to Sakhalin. I also expected to have to travel to Amur river myself, but couldn’t go after all, only went as far as Khabarovsk. 

I was thinking of making Sugimoto eat permafrost mammoth. There was talk of a research team or an ivory excavation team’s dog eating mammoth. However there was no reason to make Sugimoto and Co go as up north as needed for permafrost, so I scrapped the idea.

Q: Tell me something about the hardships you experienced while doing research is Sakhalin. Noda: It was tough, but fun. I was only able to understand the clear differences between Nivkh and Orok people by going there; I couldn't by only looking at records and materials while in Japan. 

Complete unrelated, but I was surprised by how many stray dogs wander around there. One time my cameraman and I ended up being chased by one while looking for a factory and we had to run for it. The beast was big, about the size of a German Shepherd. The guide also warned us about junkies, it was really scary.

I also went to the Japanese military pillbox over 50th parallel north and prayed at a cenotaph deep in the mountains. I met a group of Japanese people in the hotel by the place where it's said you can still find remains of Japanese soldiers and their driver, a Russian, seemed to help with collection of the remains on the regular. He said that he's doing it out of reverence, even as a former enemy. As a Japanese, I felt gratitude. The 7th Division are villains in my story, but I don't have any personal bias against either side.

Q: What were the biggest differences between drawing Hokkaido and Sakhalin? Noda: Well... it's Russia. Even though Sakhalin is so close, it's already Europe. The structure of houses is strikingly different. There's also the differences between Hokkaido Ainu and Sakhalin Ainu, and differences between Orok and Nivkh people. There is no manga that will conveniently lay the differences of those down for you. 

It seems that the Orok and Nivkh's relation with Japan only got more difficult by the beginning of Showa era, there is only one person in the whole of Japan who can supervise on the Orok language. The professors in cultural studies I consult for Golden Kamuy are truly top-level; not only are they tremendously knowledgeable, they also understand how important to me is to stay impartial.

The wildlife, as well. There's a biogeographical boundary between Hokkaido and Sakhalin, observing animals I would never be able to see in Hokkaido was riveting. 

Q: Did Sugimoto really have a hidden plan during the whole stenka business? Noda: No idea. Even if he used it as a pretext to get everyone involved, though... cut him some slack. He's only a man. Sometimes he just wants to fight and win. Not for Ume-chan or Asirpa-san, just for the sake of proving to himself that he's strong.

Q: Your art is dynamic and detailed. I think your style changed quite a bit with time, though. How would you describe yourself as an artist? Noda: I want to preface this by saying that in no way do I think of myself as more skilled than other mangaka, but if you're drawing everyday for more than 10 hours you're going to improve a lot eventually, whether you want it or not. People who are able to keep the same style for years without change are the ones who are impressive, because it means that they achieved the peak of their potential. Ageing and health problems influence your art a lot, you know. I try to draw by observing. I use a lot of references. Drawing by memory alone is not a good thing.

Speaking of other artists, I once had one of the assistants I had working for me for years draw me a door knob from memory, and the result was a truncated cone resembling pre-packaged pudding. The actual shape of a door knob has an intricately angular circular shape. It's the result of being unobservant in everyday life. Good art requires constant observation.

Q: What was the foundation for your style? Is there an artist you were influenced or inspired by? Noda: Araki Hirohiko-sensei, for sure. During my time as an assistant, many authors told me to not even try to be original when it comes to battle abilities, it's already been done in JoJo, it has it all. He's kind of the Beatles of this industry, isn't he? 

By the way, I usually have no intention of parodying JoJo in Golden Kamuy, but my friends will tell me that they identified this or that reference from time to time. I read Part 1 about 30 years ago but I was obsessed, so maybe some things were just left in my subconscious. I only did one obvious parody, during the stenka fight. Funnily enough that trope started in Fist of the North Star, though, not JoJo.

Q: What's one thing that gives you the most motivation to write? Noda: Fan letters. I know how straining it is to write long and neat sentences by hand, and am thankful for them. I'm happy that people go that far to share their thoughts about my work with me. I'm really grateful to the people who keep reading and supporting Golden Kamuy.

Q: Did you have an interest in Ainu culture before starting the series? Noda: I did not. I'll be glad if my work makes people interested in the Ainu. Prejudice is born out of ignorance, so if you want to learn about the Ainu, don't limit yourself to Hokkaido only; there are museums all around Japan, and they have knowledgeable curators. It's important to remember to take into account the time period and the occupation of the person on which the research materials are based when you're trying to learn about the subject.

Q: You showed us a lot of aspects of life during Meiji and Taisho eras. Tell us about what surprised or impressed you in the process of research. Noda: It's not that I was particularly knowledgeable, so having to check every single thing was quite exhausting. The Ainu, the military, katanas - all of these needed research on my part. 

There are more regulations and rules set for things out there than one could assume, and mangaka who base their works on real life need to be especially careful about this. You have to take into account things like the size of the buttons on a military uniform, how a tea cup is held, and and how different people talk in different ways. For movies there's staff working on costumes and props, there's the cast, there are screenwriters, but in a manga you are the one responsible for every single detail. I wish I had a time machine and travel back to those eras. There are things I couldn't get right here and there that I keep having regrets about.

Q: Golden Kamuy was the main visual in the British Museum manga exhibition between May and August in 2019. I know you went there in person. How was it? Noda: The trip felt like a reward for all of my efforts. The exhibition is jam-packed by opening time, but I got special treatment and they let me inside early in the morning so I could walk around the vast British Museum in solitude. I also travelled between Jack the Ripper's crime scenes at night by taxi.

The driver in a taxi I caught by chance was wonderful, she looked up photos of the crime scenes and surroundings taken at the time of investigation on her smartphone and showed them to me one by one, saying things like "the third victim was found here!". 

I've always had a soft spot for Jack the Ripper, back in middle school I even wrote a screenplay for a school festival stage and played him in it myself. It was done in very poor taste, like that one scene in the Addams Family movie where there are arms blown away and fountains of blood gushing out. The audience loved it. 

Q: Please leave a message for the readers. Or maybe some advice for the troubled youth. Noda: I want people to say that everyone in Golden Kamuy had a satisfying ending, and I want that for everyone involved more than anything. As for advice for the troubled youth, there's none. Life is survival of the fittest. The weak ones get eaten.

#golden kamuy #noda satoru #translation #i feel burnt out

[ilonga]

new chapter of coppertop is out!

ao3

"The Clone Wars are over!" 

"For good."

* * * * *

The cheers are overwhelming. The Senate floor shakes with the strength of them, vibrating on its very foundations as Senators, Representatives, and aides shout and grin and laugh and cry. Palpatine, for his part, looks on from above, a cooly satisfied expression on his face. 

Anakin, for his part, grips the side of the Senate pod a little tighter instead of cheering. Or crying. This. . . this is everything he's hoped for. Isn't it?

He can't believe it. The war is over. The war is over.

He locks eyes with Padme, on the other side of the Senate. He can't tell how she's reacting.

"At long last," Palpatine continues, voice booming out through the building. The Senators quiet quickly. "Our years of hard work, of courage, of battles have come to fruition! Senators, representatives, citizens of the Republic, today we have reunited our great Galactic Republic. Today all of the people of our galaxy live under one flag. Today, everything is right with our galaxy."

"Of course," he continues, tone suddenly softer, "With this beautiful victory comes a new era, and all its necessary changes. It is with great humility and gratitude that I announce that from this moment forth, the office of the Chancellor relinquishes all emergency powers given during wartime. There is no need for them any longer. We are in an era of peace, prosperity, and. . . democracy."

He pauses and leans forward. "Let today be known as the first day of Galactic Reunification." The cheers, if possible, have returned even louder than before. "And may our children's children still celebrate it for years to come."

* * * * *

This time, it's Padme excusing herself from Bail and running at him full force. 

"Anakin," she says breathlessly, wrapping her arms around him and bringing him into a kiss. They pull apart, and words seem to fail her. They fail him, too.

They walk back to her apartment in silence, Padme smiling all the way with her arm in his. 

"It's over," she says finally, once they come to a stop in front of the door. "The war. . . the war is over."

"I can't believe it." he says honestly. Numbly. What does his life even look like without a war? Without constant deployments, a rapidly shrinking battalion, a damn near weekly electrocution session?

Huh. Wait. Do Jedi in peacetime. . . even have deadly encounters on the daily? What do they even do? Sit in the Temple? Negotiate trade deals? He tries to imagine it and finds that he can't. What does a Jedi's life look like if they're not fighting for it? What does the galaxy look like if it's not rapidly falling apart?

Padme looks up at him in confusion and he realizes he's frowning. "You're acting so strange," she says. "I thought this was what you wanted."

"It was—it is what I wanted." he rushes to say. "I'm just—surprised. That's all. It's all happening so fast."

"Should have happened faster if you ask me." she grumbles. "It's about damn time." 

He laughs as they enter, taking care not to hit his head on the doorframe. If he squints, he imagines he can see a difference between the apartment now that it's peacetime versus before.  A little brighter, he'd like to think. Cleaner. Happier. "It still feels too good to be true."

Padme rolls her eyes at him in a rare display of playfulness. "My husband, ever the pessimist." she says, ignoring Anakin's snort of protest. "It's been less than a day of peace, Anakin. We've been fighting the war for three years. Of course it feels strange."

"So," she continues pulling him towards the couch, where they collapse in a giddy heap, "how long do I have you for, this time?"

When do you need to rush back to the Temple through a side door, is what she's really asking, and he's already cataloguing—Ahsoka's not back from Mandalore, yet, and Obi-wan should be in his quarters, resting, if he knows what's good for him, but this—this is huge. The war is officially, finally, over for good. Maybe he should be at the Temple for this. Will the Council need him? Sure, his position on the Council is a joke at best and a political tug-of-war at worst, but maybe they'll need a report of the Chancellor's actions. 

He dismisses the thought with a sharp huff. If they want to know what the Chancellor said, they can just watch the broadcast from the official channels, like everyone else. No need to bring treason into it. 

The Council. . . the war is over. The war is over. Which means. . . his glance lands on Padme's hands, resting gently on her abdomen. 

"Maybe I should just get it over with today," he says, realisation dawning on him slowly.

"What?"

Anakin turns to look her in the eyes. "Leave the Order." He reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of her face. "The war is over. I can just—just go now. I'll tell the Council about us, turn in my saber, and then we can . . . I can just bring my stuff over." He doesn't even have all that much to carry—just a trinket or two, spare clothes, he doesn't even need the droid parts—He's giddy, all of a sudden. They've been talking about this, daydreaming about this, for years, and now the day is here and it's so much simpler than he could have ever imagined—Padme's due any day now— "We'll get you set up with a medcenter, and then we can go to Naboo, just like you wanted, and—"

"Anakin," Padme says, brow furrowed, "Anakin, slow down."

He stops. She doesn't sound nearly as excited at the prospect as he is. 

"You want to," she blinks rapidly, "leave the Jedi? Obi-wan? Ahsoka? Just like that?"

She sounds surprised. Why does she sound so surprised?

"You're due any day now. I don't want to leave them, of course I don't, but—we're going to be parents, Padme. A family. I've made my choice."

He half laughs. "It's not like we can keep it secret for much longer."

Padme bites her lip and looks down. "Anakin, you killed Dooku. You're half the reason this war is over. I hardly think they'll just—throw you away. Like you're nothing."

Anakin flinches at that. It's not like that, he wants to say. We knew what we were doing. We knew we were breaking the rules. "The rules—" he starts to speak.

"—are outdated." Padme cuts him off. "And we both know it."

"That doesn't mean they'll just throw them away for one person." In truth, he's not so sure how he feels about the Code and its rules. He's always felt. . . conflicted, for lack of a better word. But he's at peace with his decision to leave, to devote himself to Padme and their new family. Or. Well. He was. Now Padme's gone and dug up all his old insecurities again. 

"Fine." Padme finally says, albeit unhappily. "Fine, you go and tell them, and if they decide to kick you out, that's their prerogative, I suppose. But for goodness sakes', stop acting as if you want to get kicked out! You're a fine Jedi, Anakin. You can be both, you know. You don't need to—you don't need to martyr yourself for my sake."

"I'm not—that's not—" He cuts himself off, frustrated. "Fine."

"Good." She settles backwards, leaning against him again. Then— "Oh!" Padme says, hand flying to her abdomen. She turns, grinning, and grabs Anakin's hand—the flesh hand, that is—to press it against her belly. "Did you feel that? He kicked!"

"She," he banters back absentmindedly. Leia, he remembers them discussing a few days ago. Luke if it's a boy, Leia if it's a girl. He closes his eyes to try and sense the baby's presence, feeling a slight lurch under his palm.

It's. . . strange. Reaching for the force is strange. Like pushing aside a heavy curtain. He strains for a few seconds before finally—there. The presences are distant, far more distant than they should be, and he has a momentary lurch of panic but they're there, light and joyful and alive in a way—

Wait.

Presences?

"Padme," he says numbly, reaching again and—Yes. He's right. "There are two."

Padme pales rapidly. "What?"

"I—twins. There are two."

She gapes at him, blinking rapidly, then glances down at herself then back up again. "The med droid—oh, force, when I told it to keep it a surprise I didn't mean the number of babies!"

"We'll manage," he says, pushing past the shock. Two—two babies. Will they have Padme's eyes or his? Blond hair or dark? And two—sithspit, this makes the force-sensitivity question even more complicated than it already was. They'll have to adjust the nursery, for sure.

"I didn't—I didn't know." she says with a slightly bitter edge. "I should have known."

"Padme, you're the strongest person I know." Anakin says firmly. "And this is on the med droid, not you." 

"Really," she says wryly, changing tone. "Even Obi-wan? Yoda? Ahsoka? Your men?"

 "The strongest," he promises, biting back his grin. 

Padme takes a breath. "If it's two boys, I'd like the other after my father. But if it's two girls. . . what do you think of naming her Shmi?"

Oh.

"That's—wonderful." He blinks back sudden tears. "Thank you."

Padme pulls him into another kiss. Lighter, this time.

"You should probably go now." she says softly.

"Yeah," he says, swiping at his eyes with the palms of his hand. "Yeah, I will. Love you."

He hears her murmur it back as he turns to leave.

* * * * *

The Council Chamber is silent.

He'd waited for the end of the meeting to make his confession—a bit cowardly, he knows, but he's already rocked the boat enough as is. The meeting itself had been shorter than usual, with an air of relief permeating the room. They'd watched the broadcast from one of Master Ti's holos, once, twice, before Master Windu confirmed what they already knew—yes, it was completely genuine. Then, plans to demilitarise. Then—

He'd spoken up.

Now there's silence.

His comm beeps. He startles then determinedly ignores it, waiting for a reaction.

"To be completely honest," Obi-wan speaks first. "I can't exactly say I'm surprised." He looks around, making eye contact with the others. "Well, surely I can't be the only one."

To Anakin's surprise, there are a few light giggles. Master Ti is even smiling.

"Subtle, you have not been." Yoda agrees. "Subtle the Senator has not been, either."

"Like a pair of star speckled Alderaanian love wrens," Shaak Ti agrees.

He gapes.

To be fair, it was probably easy enough to guess that he'd harbored feelings for Padme—and maybe even that she felt the same for him. But for force's sake, they'd expected the marriage too? The children?

That's a bit. . . much. 

His comm beeps again.

"Should you wish to leave the Jedi Order," Mace says, looking as amused as the rest of them, "that is, of course, your decision. But—" He looks around and seems to find the agreement he's looking for. "I believe this discussion can be tabled for now. The war is over, after all. You have fulfilled the prophecy."

 Okay, this is definitely not what he was expecting. What had happened to "You will be expelled from the Jedi Order, Anakin,"? "Attachments are forbidden,"?

He's relieved. Incredibly relieved. But also. . . 

Unsatisfied.

And he remembers—he hasn't fulfilled the prophecy, actually. There's a Sith—a dark side user—in the Senate, leading the Senate, and he's just let him be. He hasn't even told the Council. And sure, nothing bad seems to have come of it—it's Chancellor Palpatine for force's sake, the man could hardly hurt a fly—but still.

He closes his eyes and tries to find some equilibrium.

But—

Something in the force is recoiling, echoing, empty and vacant and cold.

He frowns.

"Master Windu, are you. . . feeling alright?"

Master Windu glances up in confusion. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"The force feels. . . strange. Around you." He struggles to find more words to explain it and finds that he can't. It's just. . . an ache. A devastating ache. With a strange twist to it.

Master Windu frowns at him. "I don't feel it." He pauses. "Are you absolutely certain this. . . feeling of yours is centered around me?"

He closes his eyes. No, he realizes, it's not just Mace. This strange thread of—of wrongness echoes throughout the Chamber, curling around various Council members with an icy chill.

Reaching for the babies' force presence had also been strange, Anakin remembers, trying and failing to squash his panic. They'd felt—so far away. Or maybe it was he himself that felt removed. This is the second time that reaching for the force has felt off—what's happening to him? What the hell is going on?

His comm beeps yet again.

"Answer that, you may, young Skywalker." Master Yoda says from his seat. A few others hum in affirmation.

He switches it on.

"Anakin," comes Padme's panicked voice, strange and staticky through the receiver.

"Anakin, I think the babies are coming."

#my writing #coppertop au #star wars fanfiction #star wars au #anakin doesn't turn to the dark side #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #anidala #palpatine #star wars #obi-wan kenobi #mace windu #yoda #shaak ti

[partiallyobscure]

otp questions from this post <3 I just went ahead and did them with David and Michael lmao. it’s mostly my usual headcanons with my fic as the backstory but you don’t necessarily need to read it to understand. cw for light nsfw but it’s mostly tame.

Who is the most affectionate?

David is disgustingly affectionate. he lives to make people uncomfortable so he would be the absolute worst perpetrator of PDA. he and Michael have gotten kicked out of too many establishments all because David is constantly letting his hands wander. I don’t even think he’s aware of it at this point lmao

Big spoon/Little spoon?

they bicker about it a lot, but usually in bed, David ends up being the little spoon. he tries to start off being the big spoon but he always wakes up with Michael’s arms around his chest, specifically covering where the holes from the antlers were, even though the scars are long gone by now.

Most common argument?

usually comes down to who/what/where to eat.

Favorite non-sexual activity?

they love doing tons of stuff together, but they really like racing, watching bad sci-fi movies, and going on haunted tours around the country. they’ll really go the extra mile for the ghost tours and get huge cameras to hang around their neck and everything and act all tourist-y. it’s a great time.

Who is most likely to carry the other?

David fusses but Michael carries him around when he can or requests it. he doesn’t like to do it too often though because it always reminds him of that first time he did so, thinking he was carrying David’s dead body in his arms.

What is their favorite feature of their partner's?

Michael’s favorite feature is David’s mouth, especially when it quirks up into his signature smirk, but he can also tell a lot about what David’s feeling from what he’s doing with his mouth. David hates that Michael can read him so easily (even with their shared mental connection) and asks how the fuck he’s able to do that, and Michael always gives an enigmatic smile and swipes his thumb across David’s lips.

David’s favorite is Michael’s eyes. he could lose a whole night just staring into them. he can’t quite place the color, but they remind him of how the sky would look at noon and he gets a rush of nostalgia every time Michael looks at him. whenever they light up like when they’re with Michael’s family or when he’s talking about the coolest bike that he saw in town that day is David’s absolute favorite. and when only his eyes turn amber, before the rest of his face follows to match David’s, David falls a little bit more in love every time.

What's the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

not much changed on David’s end since he was attracted to Michael at first sight. he couldn’t let it show though so he just found excuses to touch Michael whenever he could, passing him the joint and their fingers brushing when Michael took the bottle and catching him when they fell off the bridge.

when Michael realized he started to share those feelings, he was confused at first considering everything that happened between them. he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hit David or hit on David when they first met, so those feelings simmered a bit until he could get to know David beyond their history. he doesn’t fully admit it until he realizes he’s the one David is pursuing and he has the ego boost from this combined with knowing there’s more to David than what he allows people to see.

Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

David likes how Michael’s name sounds too much to give him a nickname, but will sometimes hit him with a ‘babe’ just to see him flustered. Michael calls him Davey just to make him mad but especially in public.

Who worries the most?

Michael since he still can’t seem to shake the fact that he doesn’t need to worry anymore about human dangers. he still flinches and looks twice before pulling onto the highway and all. but mostly he still worries about his family and their perception of him and whether or not they see him as a bad person, despite their love and support. and of course, he worries about how he’ll be when the day comes that he gets older than them.

Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

David knows Michael’s order all too well and specifically chooses restaurants that have at least fifteen kinds of burgers to choose from.

Michael swears David is making stuff up at this point whenever they go to a sushi place or a Thai place and he chooses something new to try every time. he knows David’s bubble tea order by heart, though.

Who tops?

Michael, but they’ll switch whenever David has had enough of Michael being too gentle with him.

Who initiates kisses?

David, but he’ll usually give Michael a look when he wants a kiss and Michael is happy to oblige. otherwise, since David likes gross PDA, he usually steals a kiss whenever he can.

Who reaches for the other's hand first?

David and it’s usually because he has to pull Michael along after he gets lost in his thoughts, more often than not after they feed.

Who kisses the hardest?

Michael. David nipped at his bottom lip once and that’s all it took for his fangs to come out and sometimes, it gets a little bloody.

Who wakes up first?

Michael. he has to practically drag David out of bed most nights because he’s too comfortable.

Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

David as stated above lmao. who knows how long dude was batting it up before he could sleep in a bed again.

Who says I love you first?

Michael and it was out of frustration.

Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

there’s no one to tell at first since they were keeping it secret, but Star finds out first and is initially upset, mostly about being lied to. grandpa eventually finds out next and then Sam stumbled across them by accident, so...both of them technically spill the beans together each time lmao

What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

Lucy is supportive and likes David a lot. she knows she should probably resent him for turning Michael, but he really seems like a boy who was in a bad scenario and is making due with what happened to him. she also knows Michael has been a good influence on him and trusts the two of them are doing what they need to to survive. her and David bond over shit talking Max and the best kind of wines.

Sam was understandably skeptical at first, but he and David came to an understanding and they’re cool now. they bond over music and David eventually comes around to really enjoying board games because of Sam, mostly because he wins every single game. Sam even refers to him as his brother-in-law.

Star took longer to come around but she mostly listens whenever Sam tells her what they’re up to. she’s also mostly relieved that she dodged both of those bullets and can live her own life how she wants to now, grateful that the boys gave her an escape and that Michael helped get her human life back.

Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

both of them suck at dancing, but Michael will spin David every now and then when a cheesy slow song comes on, or Careless Whispers and they both crack up.

Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

when they’re back spending time with Michael’s family, David is usually the one helping Lucy in the kitchen. he’s chided Michael before about joining in, especially with the big holiday dinners but Michael is always there to lick whatever spoons and bowls clean when they make dessert.

they vow to take a cooking class or two while they’re out on the road but never do.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

Michael. he usually gets them from Sam.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other's ear during inappropriate times?

David, 100%. inappropriate times being at all times because of the whole telepathy thing.

Who needs more assurance?

David, that Michael still wants to be with him and doesn’t resent him for turning him. but also Michael that he isn’t a monster and that he’s only doing what he needs to to survive.

What would be their theme song?

SOOOO MANY but just from my drive to work today: Possum Kingdom by the Toadies fits TOO well. Michael by Franz Ferdinand too obviously. I’m curating a playlist for them here at the moment if anyone’s interested lmao

Who would sing to their child back to sleep?

please don’t give these two a child

What do they do when they're away from each other?

they’re not usually too far from each other but David gets a little mopey until he can see Michael again. he’s protective so he doesn’t let Michael too far out of his sight. Michael feels a little part of himself missing when David’s not with him, so he’ll do whatever he needs to do quickly or just take David along with him.

one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart:

despite all the time David has had to mourn and grieve, he still misses the other boys every day and sometimes it gets really painful. his only regret in life is not easing Michael into the vampire thing more before turning him, but he was under a time constraint from Max so he didn’t have much of a choice. they still get into shouting matches very rarely about whether or not Michael was the catalyst for the other three’s deaths and David’s very deep, hidden fear is that he’ll never learn how to accept it and one day, his emotions will take him too far and Michael will get sick of his guilt trips.

one headcanon about this OTP that mends it:

Michael does blame himself for David’s grief, because how could he not. he feels like the constant source of David’s sorrow when it comes to the boys but also his ecstatic love and it pulls him in two directions. he listens intently whenever David tells him about his past and his time with the boys and asks what they’d say or do if they were there with them right now, and it continues into the modern era. Michael asks what kind of blog Paul would have (music reviews and fashion), what Marko would name his Instagram account for bird photography (vampigeons), and how many followers Dwayne would get on tiktok for posting thirst traps. David knows Michael cares and is trying to keep the spirit of the lost boys alive.

#i miss my fic ok i wanted to expand on it a little 🥺 #the fluff overload tag comes in handy here #my fics #the lost boys #david/michael emerson

[cacowhistle]

just in case.

Fandom: Dream SMP (Tales From the SMP) Characters: Karl Jacobs & Wilbur Soot Word Count: 974

little bonus thing set after the last tales from the smp episode going off the idea that the inbetween is where the dead people are vibing. a little conversation between karl and wilbur. mostly just a practice in characterization and a dynamic that we don’t really see. didn’t feel like this one was worth putting on ao3.

he is not supposed to die, when he goes through time like that.

karl takes deep, uneven breaths, attempting to get ahold of himself. it was just a few stab wounds. surely he’s had worse? he can’t remember, and even if he could, he doesn’t think he’d want to. his chest constricts with pain, his breathing labored and pained as he feels the flesh knitting itself back together. he’s fine. he’s gonna be just fine. he doesn’t know if this was a respawn or not, he can’t… he can’t tell, not really.

he isn’t at his library. or anywhere familiar, really. the stark white landscape around him tells him that much.

slowly, he begins moving--he can’t just stay still, he needs to go somewhere familiar, or at the very least find people. he doesn’t want to be alone. this place feels lonely, he--he can’t really stand it.

stumbling up a staircase, he finds himself up in a tower, the top of it open to the sky. he leans on a railing and gazes down at the palace he’s found himself in, cringing as the marble presses into his still-aching wounds. red stains the front of his hoodie and the banister, but already the color is beginning to fade, slowly going grey, then white. karl watches with almost morbid fascination, watching his own blood slowly vanish, until it looks like he’d never been injured at all.

“fancy seein’ you here.” a voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “what kinda tragedy was it this time?”

karl turns, eyes wide, to see a familiar figure. he can’t quite place it--he’s tall, rather handsome, wearing a tattered coat and a cape to match. he sits, perched on the railing, a cigarette in one hand. karl can smell the soul sand from here--all gunpowder and something sweet, almost sickeningly so.

“i--i’m sorry, do i know you?” karl stutters, and the man raises an eyebrow.

“what, don’t remember me, karl? you wound me, man.”

“i’m--i have a, uh, a memory problem.” karl winces. “sorry.”

the man waves a hand dismissively. “my name’s wilbur, if that helps any.”

he squints. the gears turn, slowly. wilbur. the name is familiar. something to do with tommy. l’manburg? yeah, that sounds--

karl’s eyes widen. “oh. you’re the traitor.”

wilbur wrinkles his nose. “god, i hate that word. yeah, sure, i was the bloody traitor, what side were you even on, anyways?”

“neither,” karl says. then, frowning: “... maybe both.”

wilbur laughs, though karl isn’t sure what’s funny about the situation. “you can never quite make up your mind, man, can you? every time i ask you about something you’re always givin’ me conflicting answers.”

the way wilbur looks at him, it’s almost unsettling. he looks a tad unhinged, truth be told, but karl thinks anyone would if they spent all their time here. wilbur looks dangerous, in a way he’s only encountered a few times--technoblade, philza, tommy, dream, wilbur, maybe a few others--they all carry a certain sort of danger to them. karl has always been wary of the lot of them. their kindness only extends so far, if he can remember correctly, and some of them are more prone to destruction than others.

he remembers tnt, and panicked ranting and raving about the end of an era, and the button he destroyed during the first festival.

right. wilbur is the canon life kind of dangerous. most of them are. the only one karl thinks isn’t that kind of dangerous is tommy. he presses backwards, leaning against the rail. if he jumps, it’ll probably hurt, but this place heals him fast, maybe he could make a run for it.

wilbur seems to smell his panic like a shark tasting blood in the water, and he grins. something about it is awful to look at. karl thinks there might be blood staining his teeth, but when he blinks, it’s gone.

“i’m not gonna hurt you, mate, come on. don’t be fuckin’ stupid. what would the point be?” wilbur hums. “i’m just curious about how everyone’s doing. can you tell me?”

“what do you mean by everyone?” karl gives him one last wary once-over, before deciding no, he isn’t about to attack.

“tommy, phil, techno, fundy and tubbo, y’know--everyone. l’manburg, i guess works better.” he raises an eyebrow. “even though it’s gone now.”

karl frowns, waits for the gears to turn in his head. how is everyone doing? what point are they at in the timeline right now? tommy and tubbo got the discs back, dream’s in prison, he knows that. phil and techno are… off doing their own thing. how are they doing, though? all of them have had it pretty rough, as of late.

“they’re, uh, normal?” karl shrugs. “they’re alive.”

wilbur just looks amused. “well. i know that, man. they’d be here if they weren’t.”

karl huffs, frustration beginning to rise. “i’m--i’m sorry, i just don’t remember things about the present super clearly--”

the ghost looks like he might snap back, for a minute, but his expression turns from frustration to resignation, and he sighs. “fine. it’s fine. could you just do me one favor?”

karl looks up at him again. “huh?”

wilbur holds out a book, surprisingly solid as it enters karl’s hands. penned on the nametag is just in case, then wilbur soot underneath it in neat, cursive script.

“for tommy,” wilbur says, softly. “i know he’s trying really hard to bring me back. but--but just in case something goes wrong. it’s like a, uh, failsafe. little gift for him to remember me by.”

karl nods. “for tommy,” he says, cementing it in his brain. he has to go quickly, before it gets all jumbled. “okay.”

this wilbur is far less frightening than the one karl recalls. he smiles, and karl manages to smile back.

“thanks,” wilbur says, and is gone.

#dream smp #dsmp #mcyt #wilbur soot #karl jacobs #dream smp fanfic #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fanfiction #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fanfiction #tales from the smp #tftsmp #tfts #my writing

[kanri-tea]

Demon Slayer! AU (Part 2 - Meeting Old Friends)

Ramuda, Ichiro, and Samatoki finally reunite. Jakurai sleeps away for now.

~~~

For Ichiro, waking up in the past was disorienting. He looked maybe eleven or twelve for some reason, and more importantly, he was a l o n e.

Where were his siblings?

Where were the others?

He’s an orphan again, but this time, there’s no Jiro or Saburo. There’s no Kuko or Samatoki. As he lives his life again, Ichiro finds that he’s alone. (Of course it’s adults that let him down, Ichiro thinks bitterly.)

In the end, it came down to pure luck, Ichiro thinks, that he ended meeting Kuwajima Jigoro.

In the end, it was thanks to the elderly man that Ichiro hadn’t lost his mind, hadn’t given up hope.

So Ichiro trains. He trains and he trains and he trains. It’s difficult and Kuwagima is a harsh taskmaster, but Ichiro tries and tries for the man he’d come to call “jii-chan.”

It’s frustrating too, for all that he tries and he tries, he can’t learn Thunder Breathing. Not completely. The first form, Thunderclap and Flash, is the only one he ever manages.

Ichiro hates himself for being so weak, but he’s not a failure no matter what Kaigaku says, so he works even harder. Like jii-chan says, if he couldn’t manage the other forms, then he sure as hell was going to master the one he did know.

Time comes and goes; the peach trees continue to whither and blossom as each year passes. By the time Ichiro heads off to the final selection – carrying the well-wishes of Kuwajima with him – the longing and pain has mostly faded to the background. Sure, he still missed Jiro and Saburo and spent countless nights worrying over what happened to them, but in the end, there was nothing he could do. What he could do instead was pass this exam and become a demon slayer to protect humanity.

There’s only four people who end up passing the exam. As Ichiro looks around, he sees a girl with a butterfly hairpin and an empty smile, he sees a boy whose faced is scarred and anger in his eyes.

He sees Ramuda.

But. There’s no way. How many years had it been since he’d woken up in this strange world all alone? Four years? Five? Even as the almost identical children speak to them, even as a sparrow lands on him instead of a crow, even as the angry boy tries to strangle the white-haired child, Ichiro is frozen.

When the Ramuda look-alike steps up and protects the child, Ichiro wonders briefly if his Ramuda would’ve ever done that. Would the childish man ever put himself in the middle of violent situation he couldn’t talk himself out of?

Ichiro doesn’t know anymore. Hell, he’s not even sure if he even remembers Ramuda’s face accurately anymore.

In the end, the four newly named Demon Slayers go their separate ways without ever speaking to each other. In the end, Ichiro doesn’t manage to scrounge up the courage to ask the pick-haired boy who he was, and Ichiro couldn’t help but hate himself even more.

Ghosts, Ramuda thinks, are still scary as fuck, but he supposed Sabito and Makomo could be the exceptions. But if he ever saw another ghost in his life again, he was going to go ballistic. Ugh, ghosts, he thinks as a shiver goes down his spine.

But… for Sabito and Makomo, for the other children who were killed… You can be at ease now. Even though you’re all spirits now, you can return now. Return back to your beloved Urokodaki-sensei’s side, back to your home at the base of the Mist Mountain.

Ramuda wondered where his spirit would go after his death. Maybe his spirit would go back to the modern age, where Dice and Gentaro was along with Jakurai.

Selecting an alloy for his nichirin blade should’ve been an easy, well-deserved task, especially after fighting so many ugly demons in the forest, but noooo, this one asshole just had to try and bully a little kid! Geez, what a barbarian – even worse than Samatoki.

Carefully making his way back to the Mist Mountain, Ramuda spent most of it distracted by his thoughts, thoughts of spirits and of the living and the dead, and of the demons and human. Speaking of demons…

“Welcome back,” Jakurai evenly breaths, arms wrapping around Ramuda like a warm blanket. How many years had it been since they’d been transported to this cruel, yet kind world? Six years? Seven? He didn’t know, but maybe it was for the better. Had they been in the modern era, in a time of hypnosis microphones and humans that could be even worse than demons, Ramuda would’ve never accepted this, not after the TDD split up.

Another pair of hands wraps around them, bigger and broader than either Jakurai or Ramuda’s current body. It doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s Urokodaki-sensei, but the flowing tears, Ramuda mind slowly processes, is new.

“You finally came back alive,” the tengu-masked man sobs, and Ramuda understands. He understands. Pushing back memories of the many Ramuda clones that never came back, he lets himself slip. Emotions weren’t punished here, they weren’t disregarded. For the first time in a long, long time, Ramuda lets himself cry, sinking into Urokodaki-sensei’s embrace, soaking in Jakurai’s warmth.

For the first time in a long, long time, Ramuda felt free.

Fifteen days later, a hyottoko-masked man – Haganezuka – shows up with Ramuda’s nichirin blade. And man, what a weirdo, Ramuda thinks. Even as he’s being shaken by the weirdo – Jakurai peeking out from under the futon, disapproval written all over his tiny face – Ramuda contemplates his black blade. Damn, he thinks, he was really hoping it’d turn pink or yellow or something cute. Black kinda felt… ominous.

“Caww!!! Amemura Ramuda,” the Kasugai crow flies in, loudly cawing, “Hurry and go to the northeast town, caww!!”

“What the fuck,” Ramuda asks no one in particular from beneath Haganezuka, “Is that crow talking?”

The crow pears down at him, vicious eyes boring into Ramuda’s confused ones, conveying how unimpressed it was, which, how the fuck was a talking crow even conveying facial expressions?? Ramuda had so, somany questions.

“Hurry up and go hunt demons,” the crow yells at him, “This is your first assignment! Remember this well, in the northeast town, young girls are constantly disappearing every night! Every night! There are girls! There are girls constantly disappearing!!”

When Samatoki wakes up, it's in the middle of a forest. He doesn’t know how old he is – early teens maybe even younger. But more importantly…

What.

The.

Hell??!!

The last thing he could remember was fighting an illegal microphone user alongside fucking Ichiro, Ramuda, and sensei. So what the fuck was he doing in a forest? With a boar’s head mask on his head to, Samatoki thinks repulsively, and it looked pretty fucking real.

Maybe this was a joke, he thinks to himself, getting more and more hysterical as each day passed without any signs of people. Maybe Jyuto dumped his ass in the middle of a forest to see if he’d learn anything from Rio’s “survival cooking” lessons. Fuck if it wasn’t the stupidest idea ever, but Samatoki was getting desperate.

But, as years pass, he gives up hope. What’s the point? All around him was nothing but wilderness. Maybe it was desperation, though, that made Samatoki do his very best to survive, pulling out all his deepest knowledge of whatever survival shit Rio had passed on to him.

It’s not until he meets a so-called ‘demon slayer’ and beats them up and steals receives the guy’s admittedly kinda cool sword as a reward, that Samatoki finally feels like he’s going in the right direction. If it meant getting out of this damn forest and maybe doing something with this life, even if it was something stupidly noble like Jakurai, then Samatoki didn’t find that he minded.

So he fights and he learns. Samatoki learns about demons, learns their weaknesses and strengths, learns about the Wisteria houses. He accepts that there is no one else. That he’s alone.

It’s not until Tsuzumi Mansion, though, that everything Samatoki had come to learn and accept about this world turns on its head.

“There’s a demon around here,” Ichiro hears Samatoki growl. The man is as violent as ever, and while Ichiro could never stand with someone like him ever again, this world was different. This was a world of demons and monsters, where fighting wasn’t only for survival, but to protect humanity.

Maybe it’s because Ichiro hasn’t seen Samatoki since they’d been thrown into this world, but Ichiro follows Samatoki as the man rampages through the mansion and out the front door. It’s not until he sees the white-haired man heading straight towards the wooden box that Ramuda had been carrying that Ichiro acts.

(“So, what’s with the box?”

“Hmm~ This box… I’ll tell you later! But this box isn’t just any box! It’s my most very precious possession, so don’t try anything funny with it, m’kay?”)

“Stop –! I won’t let you lay your hands on this box. This is Ramuda’s most precious possession!”

Samatoki comes to halt in front of Ichiro crouching over the box, protecting it with his body. It’s times like these that Ichiro is reminded how terrifying Samatoki could be, and the gleam of violence in the man’s – boy’s? – eye promises even more violence.

“The hell, Ichiro? There’s a demon in there,” Samatoki yells at him, “And why the fuck is Ramuda carrying around a demon?!”

“I… I knew that from the very beginning!”

When Ichiro had woken up in this world, one of the first things he’d noticed was how good his hearing was. It wasn’t just being able to hear things from a long distance or even just really quiet sounds. He could hear heartbeats, could practically hear the thoughts of others. It was a hearing of an unnatural degree.

The sound of a demon and the sound of a human were fundamentally different to each other, but… it was Ramuda. It was Ramuda who laughed and played cheerfully during their TDD days; it was Ramuda who popped by every once in a while to check on Ichiro and his brothers after the split.

It was Ramuda whose sounds was so fierce, yet kind.

(The demon’s sound was kind too. It was so, so kind and soft that it made Ichiro want to cry. Maybe this was what pushed Ichiro to the edge, the thing that made Ichiro trust Ramuda on this matter. Sure, Ramuda was someone precious to him, but even Ichiro knew Ramuda was hiding secrets – dangerous secrets.)

“I’m going to ask Ramuda face-to-face,” Ichiro informs Samatoki, eyes unwavering. Ichiro had conceded to Samatoki many times in the past, but today, he wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t going to give in.

“Tch,” Samatoki lowers his sword, “If the demon attacks us, it’ll be all yours and the stupid gremlin’s fault. Actually, where the fuck is he?”

“Samatoki, you stupid barbarian,” Ichiro hears Ramuda squawk and moments later, he comes in to view with Shoichi, Teruko, and another boy who Ichiro assumed was the older brother.

It’s not until Ramuda headbutts Samatoki in the middle of their squabbling and Samatoki falls unconscious, most likely concussed that the surrealism of the situation really catches up to Ichiro.

What the hell is my life now?

“So, if the three of us are all in this world since we all got caught up in the illegal microphone, where’s sensei?”

After burying the bodies, because Jakurai would’ve been hella disappointed in them if they hadn’t, Ramuda was finally back on the road with Jakurai on his back. But man, Jakurai was heavy. The box was supposed to be made out of some extremely light wood according to Haganezuka, but that was a fat lie. Maybe Jakurai was just fat, Ramuda snickers quietly in his mind.

Focusing back to the present, Ramuda’s mind stuttered to a halt at the question. Fuck. How the hell was he supposed to answer that?

So everyone we knew got killed by the demon king and then turned Jakurai in to a demon and know here we are, with me being a demon slayer and looking for a way to turn Jakurai back and Jakurai now sleeps in a box most of the time and is also toddler-sized! Buy hey! We’re alive at least!

Yeah, that wasn’t going to go over too well.

"Uhhh... Yeeeah... About that... The old man is kinda, uh." Ramuda sweats his way through the conversation, "I'll tell you guys when we get have time to rest, 'kay?"

Thankfully, both Ichiro and Samatoki let the issue rest, but Ramuda could tell that neither were too satisfied with Ramuda putting off the conversation. It doesn’t take too much longer though, before they reach a mansion with a wisteria printed on the door.

“Caww – Rest! Rest!” Ramuda’s crow calls, “The injured will rest until fully healed!”

“Eh,” Ramuda questions, “We get to rest now, even though I had to fight while injured,” he asks, mildly ticked off.

“Coming…”

“A monster?!” He hears Ichiro whisper to himself. Ichiro seriously watched too much anime, Ramuda thinks to himself as he rolled his eyes.

“You are the demon slayers, right?” The old lady who answered the door asks. She bows, “Please, come in.”

Ramuda steps into the wisteria house. This world was so, sostrange, but, even as Samatoki snarls suspiciously at everything and Ichiro freaks out over the littlest of things, it’s a bit better with friends.

By the way Jakurai knocks the back of the box, Ramuda was pretty sure the old man agreed too.

"So, about the old man. We kinda ended up together," Ramuda starts explaining, "Like he ran a clinic and everything and I lived there for a while."

"Eh, did he stay behind?" Ichiro questioned, confused to where this conversation was going. Samatoki is nodding next to him, confused.

"About two years back, we... the clinic got attacked by a demon. Muzan," Ramuda breaths, "And the old man..."

Ichiro and Samatoki's eyes widen. Was Jakurai dead?

"... Jakurai got turned into a demon," Ramuda finally admits. He turns towards the box and raps his knuckles on it.

"Yo, old man. Are you coming out or not? You've been asleep in there for ages!"

The door of the box swings open, a tiny hand revealing itself before its owner crawls out, purple hair splayed everywhere.

"What," Samatoki breathlessly stares, "the fuck."

A toddler-sized Jinguji Jakurai stares back, muzzled mouth quirking down and an unimpressed look plastered on his child-like face.

#hypnosis mic #jinguji jakurai #amemura ramuda #yamada ichiro #aohitsugi samatoki #demon slayer! au #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #urokodaki sakonji

[marshthat]

My Jedi master Eeth Koth headcanons!

Eeth Koth has been my comfort charcter for quite a long time, and still is now (and I hope still will be in the future also, bc I cant imagine me existing without my love for Eeth anymore).

So, I've decided to share my most prominent master Koth headcanons that I've accumulated at this point

As promised, I'm posting only general ones, without any specific implied pairings or other relationships!

note: (due not so much info about Eeth in Canon and Legends (unforgivably little actually), maaaaybe I'm projecting some of my own mental stuff on him, but eh, this is unevitable I guess :)

Have fun reading these!

1. Change of the profile

In his youth, Eeth was a Jedi Guardian, a.k.a "Jedi-on-the-front-line", and carried a blue lightsaber. But after the death of his master, followed by him joining the High Council, Eeth calmed down his inner rambo and changed his profile to a Jedi Consular. And so he chose a path of a diplomat, built a green lightsaber (with a hilt very similar to his dead master's one, as a remembrance) and eventually became famous in the Jedi Order exactly for his ability to resolve conflicts peacefully. (that's why no big missions on his part before the Clone Wars era apart from his participation in the Yinchorri incident)

2. The acceptance issue

Eeth pays a lot of attention to his appearance: carefully brushes his hair, makes sure his clothing is perfect, and so on.

Some consider this a simple whim, but in fact this will to have an ideal appearance is a consequence of some issues Koth now has because of his difficult childhood. Due to the fact that Eeth spent his first four years as a ragged orphan in the filthy slums of Nar Shaddaa, he sometimes feels as if he doesn't deserve to be in such a clean and nice place as the Coruscant Jedi Temple. (And the fact that his membership in the Order at first caused a lot of controversy among the Council masters only worsened this fear)

That is why Eeth tries his best to always look as perfect as possible - to be suitable for the beauty of the Temple and to not feel himself a stranger in its walls.

3. Long meditation hours and self-reflecting

He does meditate on his issues quite often, in order to get rid of every irrational fear he has, like the one described in the previous headcanon. Usually he does that in the evening, after all the tasks are completed - he gives himself time to reflect on what happened during the day, what he did and said and how the others reacted. This does help, but still some thorns can be very hard to get out of his hearts. His favourite meditation place is his own quarters in the Temple, where he can have a nice view on the evening/night Coruscant, which is somehow more relaxing to him than the gardens in the Room of Thousand Fountains.

4. A little peek into the apartment

Eeth’s master-quarters in the Temple are decorated with effort and thought. The most significant part are the long heavy thick and soft curtains, that, if closed, take all the light in the room away, leaving the nice pleasant semidarkness atmoshphere. Also Eeth has a lot of various cushions around the whole apartment, along with an enormous supply of aroma candles! 

5. The tragedy of the Padawan

Eeth's first and only Padawan learner was Sharad Hett.

Sharad's will to quit the Order deeply hurt Eeth, even if he didn't say that out loud, as he put a lot of effort and dedication in his promise to be the best master possible for Sharad. Also he lowkey agreed with the accusations of other masters telling him he was responsible for Sharad's departure because Koth failed as a teacher - so he does feel himself guilty of failing both Sharad and the Order.

After the Hett's incident, he actually vowed to himself not to take any more Padawan learners, so as not to let anyone's expectations down again. (And, like master Saesee Tiin, chose to put his efforts into other fields rather then teaching)

(these panels still hurt me somehow qwq 

Sharad made Eeth cry, for kriffs sake!)

6. But he's still very friendly to kids

Despite the unpleasant exprienece with his own Padawan, he did let go of his initial frustration and now he is quite happy to give younglings and young padawans some general lessons! Also sometimes he takes other masters' students to group trainings or supervises them during the Trials of Knighthood. And young Jedi do love master Koth a lot - because he's soft and very patient, and does allow them some liberties :)

7. The social butterfly

Eeth is a "social butterfly" or a "caretaker" (ESFJ mbti-type)

He is used to being among a large number of people, but even though it seems that he gathers these people around him, in fact this is not true - his natural charm and outgoing personality allow him to easily make new acquaintances, interact with friends and encourage conversations, but he more follows his more assertive companions, adapts his behavior and words to them in order to create the most comfortable atmosphere possible, than directs them himself.

In other words, he offers the fun, but enjoys more the others' reactions to it, than the fun itself!

8. Sweet tooth!

Eeth LOVES sweet things! He generally likes all sorts of sweets, starting with various desserts and finishing with sugary tropic fruits. (Gaining weight? Naaah, the zabraks physiology allows him to consume a lot of food because of the higher metabolism due to the zabraks having two hearts. And also he does a lot of physical exercise in the training halls. So it's not a problem at all!)

9. And he is sweet himself too

This love for sugary things is not only for sweet treats actually, but also for the scents of cosmetics too! (And he does use a lot of that stuff). That is why Eeth usually smells of something nice, either caramel, or vanilla, or fruity etc.

This is often favorited by his colleagues on the Council, who definitely enjoy the pleasant aroma Eeth always brings with him to the Council meetings.

10. Energy drinks!

He got badly used to them during the Clone Wars era, because he really needed an additional energy resource when staying up all night brushing through various diplomatic documents and strategy plans. Caf wasn't much of a help because it just turned out to be not strong enough for the zabrak, so he eventually replaced it with cheap but more effective sweet energy drinks. It doesn't really matter to him which drinks to buy exactly, but the meiloorun-flavoured ones are among his favourites.

11. Form of lightsaber combat

Form III - Soresu!

I actually did a separate essay analyzing why Eeth’s form of combat is definitely Soresu, but if keeping brief: he uses Soresu mixed with some Ataru moves. Ataru was his initial style, advised by his master due to Eeth’s small complexion and natural agility & flexibility, but after changing his Jedi profile to a Consular he also adopted the main Consulars’ style - Soresu (usually called “the diplomat style”, “the most peaceful among the seven'' etc.). Koth’s Soresu moves can clearly be seen in the “Grievous Intrigue” episode in particular. Also Koth’s stance in the "Intrigue" is different from the famous Kenobi's "point-fingers" thingy simply because Eeth's pose is not an opening Soresu stance, but the brace-ready stance, which in Soresu is described as “having much in common with the "Ataru guard," with the hilt held at waist height on the dominant side in a two-handed grip for greater control, extended vertically upwards”

12. The double-bladed saber

Eeth wields a double-bladed saber almost as well as a regular one.

And in fact, it was Darth Maul who has inspired Eeth to try this kind of a weapon - after the High Council sent him to lead the investigation on the question of a zabrak sith on Naboo in 32 bby, he got genuinely interested in the possible perks of two blades in his Soresu and eventually mastered the double-bladed saber on quite a level. But he still sees this only as an interesting training option, but nothing more. So the double-bladed saber stays in the Temple and is used only in the Training Halls, but never on the battlefield.

13. An earring (yes, in the singular form)

Eeth has one of his ears pierced (right one), and he actually has several different earrings, mostly simple, like basic metal rings, which he usually picks every morning according to his mood. But to be honest, this earring thing is purely only for himself - because you can’t really see his ears under his usual three-ponytails hairstyle.

Though, he did abandon wearing earrings during the Clone Wars era - because since the war began and the potentially dangerous missions became more frequent, it wasn’t really a right place and time for such things, especially knowing that the Separatists can use some specific traps (like the ones they used to magnetize Jedi lightsabers on Lola-Sayu). The prospect of losing the whole ear due to such a trap is not the most pleasant one indeed.

14. HUGS (and other tactile activities)

Eeth very very VERY much loves hugs!

And for him, tactile contacts are more than just a way to feel comfortable - for him it's a vital part of the whole communication process. This issue dates back to his master, Kosul Ayada, who was a herglic (a race that is actually not very good at speaking Galactic Basic), and therefore helped himself with gestures and body language. And spending a lot of time around master Ayada, Eeth also got used to supporting his verbal dialogue by body language and tactile contact.

That is why while speaking Eeth actively gestures, grabs the other's hands, squeezes shoulders etc. And the hugs are his way to express sympathy and also to feel safe and appreciated!

15. Driving skills

Master Koth can drive, and actually quite well. And by driving I mean not spaceships, but smaller things that stay on land, like speeders.

And because he is a diplomat who often attends various meetings with senators and ambassadors, he also has a personal speeder, allocated to him by the Order for the ease of attending senator events and other diplomatic ocasions.

(But he does use it for other personal purposes too, because why not to, if there is an opportunity)))

(A panel of Eeth casually driving a speeder like a damn pro is one of my fav Eeth comics crumbs,,,,,,)

16. Singing

Eeth enjoys singing! But he usually keeps this thing to himself, making the quiet manthra-like singing a part of his meditative prep - it helps him to settle down his tangly thoughts a bit and tune his mind and body for the actual meditation.

(the hc was inspired by Hassani Shapi’s singing in one of his films, because Shapi’s voice is really beautiful and I’m sad they didn’t give him even a single line in the Phantom Menace when filming Koth’s Council scene)

17. Space soap operas...? (not so serious, sometimes treated as crack, but sometimes not)

Koth (secretly) likes soap operas on the late-night HoloNet, and often stays up to watch a new episode of something before going to bed. His favourite series is called “Lekkus of love” (my imaginary in-universe show I usually use in my sw writings) and it's about a twi’lek girl’s life, filmed in the style of our “Magnificent Century”, with lots of romantic intrigues and twists.

18. LOTS of feelings

Referencing the previous one - Eeth is very emotional, actually! Yes, he’s a Jedi and he knows how to keep his mind clear, but he’s still sensitive enough to actually cry over sad episodes of "Lekkus…" because “Poor Ai’sha, she worked so hard to get her man’s attention, but he still chose that togruta girl? This is outrageous, this is unfair! :ccc”

Also this can be in fact explained biologically. He's a zabrak, and zabraks are supposed to have a hot, blazing, higly-emotional nature (to match their home planet, Iridonia, wich is also boiling with acid seas and all that - otherwise they won't survive)

19. Podracing as a favourite sport

Eeth enjoys podracing. He first got into it back on Nar Shaddaa, when he heard a lot about racing and stuff from smugglers and bounty hunters (and at that time he even dreamed of becoming a cool podracer - but that was of course before he was taken to the Temple).

Now he doesn't dream of podracing that much, but still can and actually does enjoy watching annual championships via HoloNet. He also tries to keep in touch with the latest news in the podracing world (that interest he shares with the young Anakin Skywalker, and they do sometimes occasionally discuss podracing when they both have free time)

20. Horns

Eeth doesn’t really trust droids with trimming his horns, so he usually does that by himself, in the freshener, and that always takes a while. Also unlike a lot of male iridonian zabraks, who prefer to keep the tips of their horns comparatively sharp as a sign of their brutality and masculinity, Eeth chooses to make the tips humbly rounded and smoothed.

21. A pet? (Also not so serious - but sometimes it IS the most serious hc!)

Eeth has a pet loth-cat! The loth-cat is a she-cat, and she's big, fluffy and always on her own mind. Agen Kolar sometimes points out that the loth-cat is very similar to her owner in a lot of little things, like the way the cat purrs when being hugged and how she is obsessed with being clean and ideal too.

The loth-cat is also a bit jealous of her owner’s attention, so she will every time make herself comfortable on his knees when Eeth is meditating or working with documents to show that this is HER man. (especially when smb comes over to Eeth’s apartment - that's the case when she just NEEDS to state who’s the real boss here).

22. Participation in the first battle of Geonosis

I headcanon that Eeth was not directly on the Petranaki Arena actually during the first battle of Geonosis in the AOTC. Since he's not on-screen in that symbolic circle of survivors but is still stated as a participant, I assume that instead of being a part of the main group, Eeth joined Yoda on his trip to Kamino. Maybe not directly on the planet but still somewhere there, helping to gather clone legions to guide them to Geonosis.

(p.s. I know that Eeth's on-screen absence is because of Shapi being replaced with another actor and the new character turning out not at all alike to TPM Koth, but this little hc actually kinda fixes the hole without ruining anything…?))

#star wars #star wars expanded universe #star wars legends #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #eeth koth #sharad hett #kosul ayada #star wars headcanons #ihonestly I can talk about Eeth for hours and days and month #Eeth is the best cinnamon bun in the Jedi Order

[dented-nado]

So so- James gets sick (you decided how sick he is loll) and Walter/Stolas/both take care of him

Im sorry sickfics are just so wholesome

Takes place before William, Grelle and Ronald were reapers (or even alive at) – For the reaper realm is sort of more in a colonial era vibe, but in the human world it’s currently 1568.

James is a character that’s had one appearance in my Black Butler Fan-Comic Will to Live – Stolas is an upcoming character – and Walter is a fan character that’s formed on our discord server lol.

Hope you like this!!! I kind of hinted at Walter’s existence and helping, but I ended up writing more about Stolas trying to get James just to go heckinnn rest lol. Hope that’s okay!

=====

Anyone who worked anywhere within the reaper realm in England would tell you their general manager was being particularly nasty. There was a rumor going around that his eyes were turning red with rage, Red.

Stolas, being the current head manager of the London Reaper district of course ended up hearing about the rumor. One of those little things that would come up during coffee breaks. Sometimes rumors spread quickly, many of them ended up not being true or over exaggerated… all of them had been there are REALLY long time after all, and sometimes rumors were the only thing that made their grueling jobs a little bit interesting.

This one… however, made Stolas sigh, he knew James too well, if those under him are especially scared of him at the moment, something was up.

Many of his coworkers thought Stolas was insane for remaining cheery with James, or they feared him too by proxy. Stolas wasn’t stupid, he knew why everyone was scared of James – James did it on purpose for Christ’s sake. However, since he had come on some 200 years ago and had many an interaction with the guy, finding himself unphased by his scare tactics... (he had seen men much more monstrous than James after all), he couldn’t help but feel some sort of…. Sympathy? No, that might not be the word? Maybe sometimes he just got a glimmer of the kind of man James could be and wanted to reach out and pull that glittering little gem out. He just hoped he wasn’t seeing something that wasn’t there.

He gazed at the large grandfather clock ticking away in the corner of his office, such a device was new to him, but he had picked it up a little quicker than James had who had kept time by candle for much longer than most of them.

He had 10 more minutes before his break would be over…

Stolas closed his large book he had snuck in to read on his breaks, it was one on the Tudors he had gotten quite lost in. Normally more ancient societies piqued his interest, but it was harder to get good accounts… he half wished he could just explore those ancient cities and discover their secrets himself. But… alas… here he was, not that he could have gone far in his human life either.

He downed the last bit of his tea before sitting up, making sure his ink well was covered and his quill was secure for when he inevitably came back to work.

He walked out of the London office and down the hall, tapping on James’s office door cheerfully, barely waiting for a grunt before coming in.

“What do you want?” James accused, looking up from his paperwork.

Now he did look quite the sight, more tired and grouchy than usual – and judging from the redness of his nose, it was irritated.

“Well now, I had heard you were especially difficult to deal with, and now I know why!” Stolas said, pushing his glasses up his nose and grinning.

James sighed, leaning back and rubbing his left eye slightly, they looked a bit bloodshot.

“Maybe if everyone did their job correctly…”

“Yes, then you wouldn’t be so cross all the time, blah blah blah, I’ve heard the script.” He took a few steps forward, leaning on James’s desk, something only he seemed to get away with. “You’re sick.”

“You’re pissing me off.” James snipped back, baring his teeth.

Stolas shook his head. This man was like trying to be friendly to a wolf on a good day, a rabid one on a bad day.

“Why don’t you just take the day off James? If your sick its not as if you can help it.” Stolas offered.

“I can get up, I can walk, I haven’t sprouted any pustules, not that reapers could get such a horrible thing thank god…” He paused, rubbing his hands together as if having the urge to wash them. “Unless I keel over, I’m still coming into work. Any reaper disease can’t be serious, it won’t kill me.”

“You’re a stubborn man James.” Stolas said, deciding to state the obvious. “What does Walter think?” He asked, furrowing his brows.

Walter was supposedly a ghost from James’s old life that followed him around. Stolas wasn’t entirely convinced he existed, or if he was a ghost in the sense of something James had been through that haunted him, or perhaps was his way of coping with the state of things. He cared for James enough that he didn’t want to try and tell James what he was or wasn’t experiencing… he couldn’t see through his eyes after all. If Walter was real… well… maybe it was good that James still had someone around to keep him grounded. If he wasn’t… what could he really do about that?

“Walter can mind his own business too.” He growled stubbornly, seemingly reading the same sentence on his paperwork a third time over, getting more frustrated.

Stolas narrowed his eyes, he slammed his hands down on the desk briefly, startling James a bit as he suddenly crossed over to his side of the desk, leaning down from his decent height and pointing his finger only inches away from James’s face.

“Either you let me take you home willingly, or I pick you up and carry you kicking and screaming.” He said very seriously.

James’s eyes widened before turning into a glare, leaning up and meeting his gaze with his own threatening one. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Stolas grinned.

James didn’t have time to run. He growled as Stolas tackled him and lifted him up out of his seat, having no problem lifting the bearded man up onto his shoulder.

“STOLAS SANTORI YOU PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!” He barked.

Stolas chuckled, he could tell all of James’s teeth were razor sharp just from the tone of his voice.

“You stay out of this!” James then barked, seemingly pointing at thin air in irritation, and Stolas was almost sure the air got colder.

Stolas walked towards the door, ignoring James struggling. “Last chance, I can put you down and you can go with me and retain some dignity…”

James stiffened and stopped flailing before sighing and going limp. “Fine, FINE! Just put me down or I swear I’ll have you- GAH!!”

Stolas followed his order and let James fall off his shoulder, only barely catching his balance.

James breathed heavily before coughing a bit, trying to straighten his hair and jacket. “If… If I’m penalized for being gone today…”

“I’ll take full responsibility. You can say you were kidnapped.” Stolas responded, walking out into the hallway with James in tow.

“…If I were to say you kidnapped me and disrupted my work… you could be put on trial.”

Stolas simply slipped his glasses off, cleaning them as they walked. He knew the halls well enough by now he probably could have found his way around without being able to see at all.

“If it happens… it happens.”

“How can you be so calm about such a thing?” James snapped before sneezing, grumbling, and pulling a handkerchief out of his coat pocket to blow his nose into.

“If that’s my fate, who am I to argue with it. I prefer to do what I think is right James, not what is easy or safe. And right now… seeing you rested is what I believe is right.” He said, looking down at James sincerely as they walked out of the building.

James hung his head for a moment, grinding his teeth slightly before walking again to head to his assigned home, Stolas not far behind.

“You’re a fool.” He said simply, and quietly.

Stolas just laughed. “Maybe. Most people seem to think so for getting within 2 feet of you.” He said softly, nudging James with his arm.

James felt miserable, he was annoyed, and on some level, he was scared.

But despite all that… he smiled.

#Look who is trying to write on this blog lol! #I know a lot of ya'll followed me for DC content? I still might do some stuff for it but... #my interests have changed D: I understand if anyone wants to unfollow! otherwise stick around <3! #will to live fc #W2L #james knapp #i hope tumblr doesn't accidently tag that helluv fandom bc of the character sharing the same name being mentioned here #if it is #hi #sorry lol #request fill

[tenderlyrenjun]

[1010 A.D.]

“Do you believe in soul mates?” you ask, lackadaisically, dreamily, while readjusting the ceramic pillow beneath a new fabric cover that your loved one retrieved from his latest bureaucratic outing. It is nice to have him back (and the new gifts, too, adorn your villa delightfully, even the ones hidden here in your bedroom, from wandering eyes). Outside your personal chambers, the scholars gather with you, compelled against their will, to indulge your curiosities, and particular student, who you seized from a recently constructed university, revived The Red String of Fate folklore under a new alias: soul mates. You want to hear Renjun’s thoughts on the term, if has has even heard it in passing.

“What are ‘soul mates’?” 

Renjun rolls over in the bed, just as you lift the sheet to join him. Honestly, thank Heaven that your immortal self only requires one night of sleep a month. Leaving your estate unguarded for 8-12 hours of the day is dangerous. Although, months ago, the battlefields healed from the successive, rapid kingdoms popping up every couple of decades. Welcomed peace spreads alongside the rise of education, which is why you and Renjun returned to his home country. Physically seeing a Golden Era circulate the continent gave you two more confidence to re-establish your roots. With your entire coven massacred from rebellions caused by overly ambition vampires and their newborn parasites, the Huang lineage has to counterbalance for the lost political ties and social standing. Fortunately, Renjun’s good looks and charm (and compulsion ability) persuade even the most corrupt aristocrats - which is why he, rather than you, leaves the land every few weeks to reinforce those alliances.

Plus, he does it better: the dirty work. 

You prefer to look at the pretty daggers he brings home and to drink red, warm elixirs poured into pretty bronze jia. Still, you admire his insignia ring on your finger during his extended business hours, counting down the seconds until you have him again. The staff are not as nearly interesting as your lover, especially considering how they gossip with you around the corner. Some call you too bold to manage the house; others say you simply lack manners, faulting Renjun for choosing a mate who was not born of noble status (a mere rumor that you take care of, anytime it emerges). Perhaps, that is why you take solace amongst the scholars, practicing calligraphy and expanding your vocabulary, instead of Confucian traditions. At least it gives you something to talk about with your equal, before you two begin recruiting members again - a lone vampire, in possession of a shielding ability, seems promising (and beneficial, in case of another war). So you slide into bed too, pulling his arm under your neck and extendings your similarly, to support his head while you curl into his side, answering his question:

“The sages call them destined.”

Renjun laughs, throwing his head back onto the comforter. He strokes your shoulder with his thumb, bringing the silk material off your skin, and turns to you with a smile that makes his presence natural and bright. Vampire nature is ectothermic and the beds are uncomfortable (how fleshlings survive them daily, you will never understand, not entirely able to recall your own mortality from centuries ago), but Renjun lives up to his name, enveloping you in a sense of reassurance, especially with how his voice melodizes. His opposite arm comes around, caging in you toward his chest so he can remove the strand of hair covering your eyes.

“I thought they were called ‘Soul Mates’,” Renjun counters. After giving you his signature tender smile, he nuzzles his face in your neck, pressing down a soft kiss. The way he lingers makes you roll your face to the window on the ceiling, North Star glowing a little weaker through the glass, now that he is home, holding you. 

You sigh, contently, hearing it returned, ghosting over your collarbone. “They are, but Soul Mates are supposed to be people who are ideally matched together.” You glance at Renjun, hoping to scan his face for another reaction, but his eyes are closed, lips relaxed, cheek losing control to stay upright: he is falling asleep. And you almost let him, knowing how exhausted he probably is, from all the politics, the new studies, the art and literature. He is participating in so much that he will likely sleep for more than 12-hours this month. Unfortunately, you want him to answer this one question, and over the centuries, since his biggest promise, he always swears to give you whatever your heart desires. So, you prod his beautiful face, physically asking for an response. 

“Mmm,” he whines, the hypnosis faltering enough for him to give you one, though his tired state answers your question with a question - you barely hear him, as he mumbles without opening his mouth too widely. He licks his lips, adding another brief love bite to your collar’s collection, before repeating himself louder, enunciating. “Are you asking if I believe that we are soul mates?” You think that he will indulge your new philosophies, using his statement as a thesis question, but he rolls his cheek further on your chest, tiger hugging your upper body. “Maybe,” he says. It should send worry through your body, were you a new couple, like Doyoung, the now-rather ruthless law enforcer of the Kim family. But you and Renjun have been together for half a millennia at this point, none of the passion ever slowing down. “I don’t believe in soul mates,” he confesses, slugging his words, “but we are naturally perfect together.”

The answer is good enough for you, so you brush back his bangs and kiss the crown of his head. He sighs again, squeezing you into the bed frame. This is how you allow yourself to fall asleep with him: no threats to your country, no threats to your safety, no threats to your relationship.

But ten hours later, you wake up to an empty bed, your lover making quiet noises in the next room over.

So, you go meet him, thinking that he has started brewing an early morning pot of tea, meticulously straining blood in a way that you do not understand. It is nice to just watch him cut lemons, slice ginger, arrange bits of flesh with almonds for garnish. And on the rare occasions, when birds are still writing songs on the rays of sunlight, you try to meet him in the tea room, almost falling asleep on his back all over again because the ambience is so soothing. 

Except, you find Renjun hovering over jewellery in your shared walk-in closet, muttering decisions here and there about packing. An odd decision, truly, considering that you have staff rotating hourly. He only does this during surprises. And you sometimes enjoy his spontaneity. So you quietly relax against the door frame, arms crossed and an amused smile on your lips. In the mornings, each time, after he gets back, even without doing anything that might shame the Moon and Stars (before you disappoint Her counterpart, the Sun and Skies), you feel drunk in love, despite having an empty stomach.

“Where are you going?” you whisper, voice yawning the verbs.

Unexpectedly, Renjun jolts, visibly surprised and shifty, then he turns around. And your expression changes with him. Your eyes dart across his face, scanning through his forehead lines to eyes. You hesitate, always glancing back to his eyes, as a precaution in case he might say something reassuring, but he remains frozen, guarded in front of a backpack that you cannot miss.

To reiterate, you sometimes love his spontaneity.

“I’ll be gone for a few years,” he says, slowly returning to the bag, tossing in extra pieces. He contemplates adding a beautiful necklace on display - the one he had handmade for you during the Jade Era, but he shakes his head. No, he has to leave that for you. This break, his packing, does not equate to all the times when he leaves his insignia for you to wear. Renjun looks at his ring, having taken it back the moment he arrived, when you slipped it onto his hand, like a proposal of your own, even kissing his knuckles tenderly. He sighs; the necklace was a promise, and he will come back to you, after he does what he needs to do. And he really needs to do this. Renjun shakes his head, to correct himself, “A couple decades.”

You frown and your eye twitches. “What?” Realization hits you like a moving carriage, horses trampling over your regenerative rib cage. Renjun walks up to you, one hand balled into a fist and the other carrying his bag. You glance at his hands, unable to truly believe his face, and he passes off his insignia. “Tell me where you’re going.” Your voice cracks. “Please.” You can join him - now or in a few days, if he needs space. Although he was gone for a couple months, you can give him more, give him anything, as long as it doesn’t mean what you think it means. “Because we just talked about Soul Mates last night.”

Renjun slouches, opening his arms to give you a goodbye. “Love -”

“Don’t,” you hiss, sustaining red revived eyes at him - a particularly onyx color surges the veins, something Renjun has never seen in a vampire. “Don’t call me that while you are abandoning me.” His timeframe leaps out at you, the expectancy of a human, and you bite again, anxiety manifesting defensively into frustration. “For a mortal, abandoning our promises.” You point an accusatory finger at him, causing him to step back. “We stood before the Heavens and Skies and gave ourselves to each other by side of the Moon and Stars.” Every enunciated syllable pushes him further into your house, until he drops the bag, a shattering sound aiding the action.  “You belong to me. I belong to you.”

You find the valor to look at him, eyes shining a vibrant red, and you think, just for a second, that he might give in, but when you try to deescalate the situation, thinking that this is just a lapse in his judgement, that you have a chance to make him stay, he speeds out of your arms. That is so unlike last night. And as you relive the memory, you realize that it might have been a goodbye. He had the opportunity to leave and not return, then chose to come back. 

Renjun gingerly steps forward, tucking a hair behind your ear sympathetically, pityingly. “No one belongs to someone else.” It is why you pay your servants, generously. “People are free agents.” He glances at your eyes for the last time, picking up his backpack. “I’m sorry.”

And thirty years later, a decade extra than he intended, Renjun reiterates that plea, in a different context, after his medicinal elixir expired. 

“I’m sorry,” he pleas, imploring you with tears pricking his ducts. He can barely see you seated, alone, on a throne, now that the last remaining valet has been dismissed. Renjun drops his bag, walking toward you with intention, pulling your quiescent face into a series of kisses. When you start moving your arms, he thinks that you concede and slows his lips to give you more dominance. You curl your fingers around his palm, a familiar gesture he has missed - mortals no longer give these types of sweet touches. Renjun comes back down to his heels, having edged to the tip toes in excitement, waiting for your embrace.

But you throw his hand off your cheek.

“Get out.”

“What?”

You know that he picked up your request easily, with his super hearing. Yet he asks you to repeat it anyways. Being amongst humans for so long mush have diminished his powers. You so desperately want to ask how he has been. How he has been excusing his eternal youth? Why has no one heard from him, not even Sicheng? Has he been drinking? You lost sleep over all the questions, for years. Vampires may only need half a day per month, debunking the coffin myth, but you have not fully rested in years. So, you repeat yourself, not bothering to glance at him as you walk away to the throne, back turned to him. “Get out of my manor.” You pick up a dagger, soaking it deeply in a jar full of your special poison. “I will not repeat myself again. If you are not gone by my next meeting -”  An execution. “- you will be my next meeting.”

“Please,” Renjun begs. He has lost too much today. 

The antechamber opens, your newest guard, Xiaojun, signalling your attention. So many vampires live in Renjun’s home, his former home. He knows that power naturally follows the ruthless, in this era, with covens and loners trying to gain ties after seeing displays of authority - either to have your killing machine skills used in their favors or to stay in your favor, avoid being slaughtered. And as you leave with Xiaojun, another two vampire guards drag a muzzled traitor to the throne room. Muffled prayers escalate his headache and he nearly exterminates the vermin himself, but you reenter the room and your prisoner shuts up, the end near. 

You throw a dagger beside Renjun’s thigh. The poison you laced it with seeping into the floor, like a tea. While you have yet to singularly perfect the warm beverage, your venom has been shown incurable - a result you feel most proud in. And you burn the bodies before other covens get the chance to examine your work. No one but your shield needs to know that the poison is brewed from the blood of mortals with incurable illnesses: carcinogenesis, dystrophy, haemophilia, etc. Renjun has heard about your cruelty in the last few years, accumulating your dossier before returned home. Rumors circulate the taverns he worked in, spilling story after story about the monster on Oma Mountain between two warring kingdoms where people kept going missing. The immortal community says that you expect loyalty but want none of it, letting vampires reside in your villa lawlessly. Renjun starts to see the origin, especiallly after you rip out your prisoner’s vocal chords, burning it on steel wool and a high molar acid, before it can reattach and function again. He never truly saw you torture anyone, always ending their executions quickly and quietly. This is his fault. Now, you sadistically entertain their pleas for mercy, waiting for them to beg with everything you leave. 

Renjun lets the choking garble for a few seconds more, then severs the head - all while staring at you. You glare at him, daring him to leave one more time.

“Do you want me to rip out your vocal chords too?”

#renjun #nct dream #nct renjun #renjun x reader #renjun imagines #renjun fluff #renjun angst #nct angst #nct fluff #nct drabbles #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #vampire au #nct dream drabbles #nct timestamps #renjun timestamps #huang renjun #nct fanfic #nct blurbs #renjun blurbs #nct dream blurbs

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Dilliam - A Battle of Rank

Today I learned about the Purple Heart! It’s absolutely perfect for Damien given everything he’s gone through! According to research I did on the USO, the Purple Heart was originally called the Badge of Military Merit. It wasn’t actually in use in the era I set WKM, but hey, Mark’s manor had a high-tech security camera among other things, so let’s blame broken time!

Unfortunately, not-writing has taken over my brain. BUT! I've had this saved so I can gradually work on something absolutely kinda-angsty-but-adorable that you inspired. Hopefully it’ll work for you!!

For context, in the War/Role Reversal AU, Damien lost most of his left leg while in the war. This goes a little into detail of his struggle with a prosthetic leg, but I’m not entirely sure what the tag would be for a trigger warning. If anyone knows it (or anything else I might have missed), please let me know! I’ve used a read-more just in case.

(also, I need to give this AU a proper tag for easier searching. Whoops)

Word count: 1,293

-

There was no denying the closeness between a Colonel and one of the soldiers that had been under his command during the war. When he discovered Damien was alive, but badly injured, William decided to dedicate as much time as he could to help Damien adjust to his new life. Whether it be emotional support to help him through the grief of losing a leg, or physical support (being a physical crutch or carrying him), William tried his hardest to be there. That didn't change when Damien finally could get a prosthetic a year later and relearned how to walk with it. William stayed loyal no matter what.

The general in the barracks noted this behaviour. William was always an eccentric, but helping another soldier seemed to give him grounding and a focus. Who knows how he might have handled the impact of civilian life if left drifting alone. Though it was not a normal situation… Colonel Barnum was never one to do things the "normal" way. Perhaps General McRoy noticed the loyalty of old friends twinned with the guilt of not being able to do enough to help. Perhaps he noticed the love that William was struggling to keep a secret. Either way, he said nothing and allowed his subordinate more flexibility with his duties.

Which was how Damien was being escorted back to City Hall by William after an official visit to a local school to talk about the purple medal he had received during the war. The pair took advantage of the pleasant weather and opted to walk the short distance back instead of taking the official vehicle as they had earlier. It allowed the two friends to chat about small nothings and their friends.

"- so then Mark kicked up quite the fuss after the ball splashed in the swimming pool. I don't think I've seen him have such a temper tantrum over golf since - Damien?" William cut himself off mid-sentence as he turned his head to notice Damien wasn't there.

"I'm alright, keep going." Damien tried to insist with a wave of his free hand. William could see how Damien struggled to walk, how he was leaning heavily on the ornate cane, how exhausted he looked. The Mayor gave a heavy sigh as William marched over. "Colonel, please. You don't need to-"

"You can't keep pushing yourself if you're tired, Damien. I'm going to help you back to the office, and then you're going to rest. Colonel’s orders." He looped Damien's right arm over his shoulder to provide further support as they hobbled toward City Hall.

"Fine, you can help, but I hope you realise how humiliating this is," scowled Damien. The sour tone was noticed, but ignored by William.

"We're nearly there," William instead replied, nodding toward the building as he tried to lift the mood for the final stretch.

--

William stepped out of the office to fetch Damien a cup of water. When he returned, he was greeted with the sight of Damien back at his desk, busy at work. The glass was slammed down on the desk with such intensity that it made Damien jump.

"Is this what you call 'resting'?"

"I'm sitting, just like you said. What more do you want?" Damien reached to the left to grab a page that had fluttered off when he jumped, to no avail. William had snatched it up, forcing him to stay in the conversation.

"I left you on that couch for a reason, Damien. You were supposed to be putting your leg up to let it rest. I trusted you to be able to follow that simple order!" William pointed to the couch in question. His snapping didn't deter Damien.

"Did you forget I can't lounge around during work hours? If my legs hurt, they hurt. I'm an elected official. I'm supposed to be working to help the people. That's why I ran for election-"

"- and that's why you went to war!" William cut him off. "Always thinking about others and never considering the consequences to yourself! Tossing away pieces of yourself until there's nothing left, is that what you call serving others? Are you content with destroying yourself for the sake of others, Private?!"

“For God’s sake, William, we aren’t in war anymore! You aren’t my superior that I have to obey every little order from. We’re both civilians, and I’m now higher ranked than you!”

"Don't you talk to your commanding officer like that!"

"Don't you talk to your Mayor like that!!"

Damien slamming his hands on the desk cut the argument short. Both men were on their feet, glaring at one another. Damien's hands were flat on the desk to keep himself balanced, but it did little to stop his vision doubling and his head briefly drooping. It was only for an instant, but it was enough for him to feel firm hands on his shoulders, gently easing him back into his seat. The chair was turned so William could kneel down and look him in the eye.

"I've told you a dozen times not to stand up so fast. You get dizzy far too easily," tutted William, placing a hand on Damien's forehead to make sure nothing else was awry. 

"I'm sorry," Damien mumbled, "I know you mean well. It's so frustrating knowing I'm so… Helpless. Everything tires me out faster, simple things are such a struggle. It's been - what, four years? - since I lost my leg and it's still like I'm back in 1919 in that blasted rehabilitation centre trying to balance all over again." As he blurted out his frustrations, William rubbed circles into the back of Damien's hand with his thumb. "What happened - what we helped do - I wouldn't change my outcome for the world but… God, I just wish I didn't keep falling back when I think I've made progress." William sighed softly in sympathy. He had received a rather nasty gunshot wound in his shoulder that sometimes acted up, but it rarely hindered him. Damien couldn't go a day without being reminded of his leg.

"Don't start that nonsense, Private. You've come on in leaps and bounds. Your stamina is much better, your gait is steady and even. What happened today is one tiny stumble on the long road of recovery. Just stop, look back, and see how far you’ve come.” William seemed so sure of his words, until he noticed the way Damien’s face scrunched up. “... What?”

“Everything you just said used walking metaphors. That’s the opposite of reassuring.”

“Oh, uh, shit, I… Fuck, sorry.” A nervous chuckle escaped the Colonel. “You’re doing great, Damien. You know you’re the smarter one out of the two of us. Using smart words in a smart way is your job, not mine. I barely survived high school, remember?”

“But you’re a Colonel. That means you’re a very smart man too,” Damien, at last, had a smile on his face. “May I take your hand?” When William nodded, the Mayor was quick to do so and kiss the back of it. “Thank you for being here for me, even if I’m still the worst patient.”

“You’re a woeful patient. But you’re handsome, so I’ll forgive you.” The smile was matched as an idea popped into William’s head. “May I kiss you? As an apology, I mean.”

“Yes, sir.” It was a quiet reply, but enough for William to hear and quickly follow on that request. When he pulled back, he reached out to adjust the medal still pinned on Damien’s jacket.

“There. Now, finish what you’re doing so I can take you back to your house so you can lie down without interruption,” Damien gave William a tired look, but the Colonel quickly continued, “s-speaking as a concerned boyfriend, of course.”

#writersofmark #dilliam #mayor damien #william j barnum #who killed markiplier #tw war #(just in case) #tw lost limb #(also; anon? I'm now tempted to take the drabble I once wrote for switching the end of WKM so Damien survived #and edit it up to make it readable. I also want to change a plot idea I had in it so I can include the 'm.otherloving' alternative) #Blue Soul (Damien) #Eccentric Goof (Colonel)

[anystalker707]

Vampires will never hurt you

🎃Halloween special Pairing: Gerard x Reader Word counting: ~ 3 600 Genre: Terror, suspense, fluff TW: Description of death, though vague Summary: Why not to go to the graveyard at midnight? What can go wrong? Being attacked by a vampire? a/n: I wrote this thinking about Bullets era, but the era’s up to y’all

There was a light thin rain falling outside by the beginning of the day - it seemed incessant and like if it would continue for the whole day like in the previous one, but it came to an end before it was even noon. It was practically just a warning of the colder days that still are to come, maybe a free sample of them, like Ray called it once. Well, a sample wouldn't leave this mess of gross wet dry leaves near the sidewalks or under trees, but that's fine. I'd prefer some different fall vibes.

Even with the clouds leaving, the rest of the day remained kind of cold, with the sun's heat not seeming enough to take over the result of the rain or more so dry the soil properly. It's not really something new and brought a quite pleasing atmosphere, the change evident in how there are more people standing under the sunlight rather than under the shadows, like usual. The chilly air feels just perfect to get a thicker hoodie off the wardrobe; or just steal one of Gerard's, in my case.

Even so, it isn't enough to get us outdoors - it only makes the fact of staying home like always more pleasing.

I'm surprised by Gerard suddenly sitting down beside me, getting my attention off my phone with a kiss being pressed to my cheek. He hums softly as making himself comfortable next to me, resting his head on my shoulder; a pleased smile plays on his lips after I press a kiss to his cheek. He's got the faint smell of the coffee he just drank before going upstairs to take the used cups to the kitchen and also ask Donna if I could stay the night.

"Okay, so," he starts, "my mom says you can stay over but we have to stay out of the basement. They're having a seance to call my grandparents." Shifting around more, he throws his legs over my lap, seeming finally satisfied with our position and the new proximity.

"They are?" I ask him, thinking for a moment then letting out a thoughtful hum after he nods in response. "I guess we should go somewhere if so. You remember how your parents complained a lot that we plus Mikey kept disturbing the place's energy." My eyebrows furrow a bit at the memory, almost ten minutes of scolding that somehow left us feeling guilty for the rest of the night and following day.

"You voiced my thoughts," he says with a small smile, though seeming more focused on playing with my hair. Observing him, I wrap an arm around him, letting the other over his legs, absentmindedly playing with the folds of the jeans. "You've got any place in mind?" He asks again after a moment. "Like, to go to at midnight."

~

"Of course, the graveyard at midnight is super sexy and not creepy, let's go there."

I roll my eyes at Gerard and look at him, bored; the sarcastic expression remains on his face for a few seconds before he goes back to grabbing what he needs. "What?" I twist my mouth in certain disappointment. "C'mon, it's better than being stuck in your bedroom like we do every day and you know this city has nothing better at this time."

"Well," he shoots me a look, almost pouting. "The way you said it, I thought you had some kind of special spot, like an abandoned bridge or building like in a cheesy fanfic," he teases, giggling after I snort, rolling my eyes at his playful attempt of annoying me.

"I mean, we could go somewhere like the skate park or something, but you know how these are full of idiots." I shrug in frustration, remembering the past experiences. "And I'm not up to getting lost in the woods at night again." My words make him send me a questioning glance, most likely about to ask me about it, but I quickly speak up. "Ask Ray if you wanna know all about it. Dealing with lost ghosts is better."

Gerard gazes at me for a moment then raises his eyebrows like if making a mental note. "Okay, fair point," he trails off, seeming to fumble with something. I raise an eyebrow at him questioningly and he shrugs. "It's holy water," he explains with a tap on the jeans' pocket that held his attention until seconds ago, grabbing his phone and his keys before extending his hand to me.

"Oh, you're on that shit again. Why would you carry holy water around?" I question, taking his hand and pulling Gerard with me out of his room, giving him time to close the door after we leave it. The chains attached to his pants make a tinkling sound as he walks, the metal cross and the pendants hitting each other.

No word come in response; he raises an eyebrow at me, wordlessly asking if I'm being serious. Being met with the same look coming from him mirrored by me, he shakes his head, his face gaining an air of disbelief.

"C'mon," he mutters in defeat, starting to walk down the stairs. A quiet sigh escapes my lips, but I don't say anything in response, inevitably following him.

A cold air embraces us in the same moment we step outside, thankfully not enough to make us shiver; the hoodies hold enough heat to make us warm and the cold breeze is too weak to even send our strands flying. The tips of Gerard's cold fingers touch are still felt through the fabric of my fingerless gloves and I bet his situation isn't much different. He squeezes my hand, rubbing his thumb over my fingers lightly in a poor attempt of heating them up as we look down both sides of the empty street before stepping down the porch.

Only a few lights are on inside the houses while we walk down the street, a pleasing silence hovering around, our footsteps echoing behind us. It lasts until we reached the main street - people occasionally walk by and there's a place or two open, so the faint incoherent talk is heard under the sound of a car eventually passing by. Still, it doesn't make it any worse.

It's rather easy climbing the wall to the graveyard, even more with each other's help. Though not really seeming scared, Gerard looks around the dark place with narrowed eyes once we land on the other side of the wall. I grab the flashlight I brought, lighting our surroundings before pulling Gerard along with me to a rather empty space - there are no graves, just a few trees. Frank and I came here a few times already, with the same intention of avoiding the other places, so the place isn't really unknown to me. It's got a good lighting, with the light posts right on the other side of the wall, that's not so far from the spot.

A kind of relieved sigh escapes my lips as I sit down under the tree, pulling Gerard with me and turning off the flashlight. Only the sound of us sitting against the slightly damp grass and quiet exchanged words cut through the thick silence, which doesn't seem to lose its power even with the occasional night sounds.

"Your choice is still really questionable, but I'll offer you if a demon, vampire or something decides to attack us," Gerard teases as scooting closer to me, grumbling quietly as nuzzling my neck, his cold nose brushing the warm skin affectionately. "I'd throw the holy water at them, but you're not worth my holy water," he continues, sending me a playfully angry look, eyes narrowed and bottom lip sticking out lightly.

"I'm not worth it?" Furrowing my eyebrows in a fake sadness, I scowl jokingly after he nods, a kind of childish air over his manners. "Well, thank you for telling me your plan, then, I'll make sure of running away before you can notice," I tease, chuckling at the glare he sends me followed by a whine. I press a kiss to his lips, what makes him giggle before kissing me again, humming in appreciation against my lips; the once heavy atmosphere we were once set in slowly melting away into a comfortable, almost warm one.

"What'd you bring?" Gerard asks as seeing me shoving a hand inside the hoodie's pocket after pulling away from him.

Preferring to not answer, I just hand him the black can of Monster Energy, followed by the small bag of M&M's he had bought earlier today plus a small bag of chips which contents have most likely been reduced to crumbles with the heavy can pressing against it for almost the whole way here. A pleased hum comes from him as he gets the can first, flicking the can a few times before the sound of it being cracked open echoes in the place and he takes a sip of the drink.

Meanwhile, my phone holds my attention as I try to chose something that fits the mood - a pleased smile stretches my lips once Dig Up Her Bones comes up on the screen and I decide to just let the song play and be surprised by whatever comes next. Gerard raises his eyebrows as soon as he identifies the song, shooting me a glance to show how the choice pleases him too.

Letting out a sigh that finally seems genuinely comfortable, Gerard practically melts against me, seeming to observe the sky for a moment - it's got some stars decorating it, apart from some areas covered by clouds, probably a warning that it'll rain during the night or by the morning because they're slowly taking over the sky.

We're able to shape the ambient into something we're almost used to, the fact it's a graveyard now being a minor detail in the back of our minds while Gerard sips on his drink and I nibble on the chips he occasionally steals from me.

Though the light doesn't really reach further in the graveyard, I'm able to sense someone else's presence, tensing up lightly before looking around. It is like someone is standing some feet away from us, but, still, there's nothing but even more tress and bushes making us company.

"What's wrong, love?" Gerard asks softly, leaning forward lightly, squinting his eyes at the spot I stared at just seconds ago.

"Nothing," I shrug, "'must've been some lost werewolf attracted by the beginning of the song." A chuckle escapes my lips as I say it more of as a joke. Even without seeing it, I can tell Gerard rolls his eyes then I can feel his elbow meeting my side in a light motion, though still carrying a reprehending air. In spite of that, I can hear the faint laughter caught in his throat.

Once again, we fall in comfort, exchanging a few words once in a while as we ate, mostly just enjoying the music playing in the background and pressing occasional lazy kisses to each other's lips.

Everything is fine until I sense the presence again and, suddenly, it's behind me. It's too solid to be just a paranoia from earlier - it blocks the cold breeze from hitting my back and my side and I swear I can feel a shallow breathing. Gerard probably notices how I tense up. At first, his eyes are confusedly flickering over me, first looking at my hand before going up, still not understanding it when he observes my face, but his eyes widen and he freezes too when looking past me.

Gerard's eyes move to mine for a second like if telling me something. I'm not sure about how to interpret it, but follow him as he clumsily stands up and starts running, his hand tight around mine the whole time. Our plan, however, is screwed when we're met exactly with what we feared - at least as a joke.

All the stories about vampires, werewolves or any other kind of beasts are always mostly taken like a joke, though there are a few people who'll tell you their stories about how they escaped a creature's attack if you ask them to. Nonetheless, it's rather easy finding a house with a cross hanging right above the doorway or seeing someone discreetly blessing the doorway or windowsill with holy water and looking around in a hope no one will see them doing it. If you are around for time enough, you'll see how the city has a strong belief in spirits and you'll most certainly gain a curse if you enter a wrong place in the woods - what Ray and I know very well.

Anyways, I'm sure we'll probably be laughed at if we tell someone we went to hang out in the graveyard and ended up being visited by a fucking vampire. Well, that if we fucking survive long enough for so. Their characteristic sharp features are badly illuminated by the light coming from the light posts, the light reflecting on the red sink of their cliché Victorian suit and showing a few metal details, like a pin on the blazer and a chain, probably of a pocket watch. It's rather easy identifying a vampire after hearing the stories that go around and the description of this one isn't really unfamiliar to me. And, like, I don't think a normal person has teeth that sharp, but...

A shaky fuck escapes Gerard's lips, both of us trying to step back from the beast, clutching onto each other for dear life. The panic makes a thin layer of sweat quickly form itself over our skin, in a way I'm able to feel my palm sweating under the fabric of the glove, making the fabric slightly damp.

Swallowing thickly, all I can think about is running the opposite direction. And I do so. The quiet cry leaving Gerard's lips demonstrates he didn't expect the sudden tug at his arm, what sends him stumbling behind me. In any moment of this, his hand escapes mine and, when I turn back around, I'm alone. There's just the faint sound of a The Cure song playing in the background, coming from my phone, thrown on the ground next to the neglected food and the flashlight.

The silence is almost deafening. There isn't even a quiet cry coming from Gerard or the hushed movements of the vampire.

My heart suddenly becomes heavy with the thought of having lost Gerard. Slowly, I start taking steps back, with the intention of at least getting the flashlight back and maybe stopping the music coming from my phone so it'll be easier to be aware to my surroundings.

It's difficult determining if I should be happy or not that there's no other movement or anything in my way back to the tree. I let out a quiet sigh as bending down to get the flashlight, flicking it on, but the weight of the worry and panic is set back on my shoulders at once when I adjust my posture and I'm able to feel someone standing right behind me. Too tall to be Gerard.

Turning around at once, I point the flashlight at who's most likely the vampire. Even being extremely quick, my brain is able to process the sight of the face contorted in a motion to attack, showing their fangs while making a scary face on purpose while they also make a hissing sound - it all snatch a loud scream from me as I jump back.

The cries coming from me as I push myself back against the tree don't seem to be something I can control, becoming more desperate with a louder hiss coming from the beast.

And the attack never happens, for some reason. All I see when pointing the flashlight at the beast is them hissing louder for no apparent reason, slowly contorting while falling to the ground, twitching a bit before they stop moving at all. Everything is silent again. That asides from the sound of my heart beating in my head and my heavy breath.

The vampire lays there, immobile. Did they die? Why?

With a movement coming a few feet away from the body, I hear something. My heartbeat pace picks up again, my throat dry while I adjust the flashlight on my hand, mentally preparing myself to move it.

"Y'know-"

As much as it's spoken by a familiar voice, the single word doesn't fail in making me scream again, a shaky light illuminating Gerard a few times while I was still scared, but also relieved, with his presence.

"-stop screaming- they'll never believe us when we tell them we fucking killed a vampire to the sound of The Cure," Gerard says in an extraordinarily calm voice. By the time he finishes talking, I'm able to recover myself, my grip on the flashlight becoming steady, illuminating him properly. Gerard looks down at a glass flask on his hand in certain approval, slowly nodding, then he turns to me, squinting his eyes and bringing a hand up to protect his face from the light.

"Stop fucking pointing that thing at me," he complains.

A quiet oh comes from me, reality hitting me and making me feel like if I'm an idiot. After a minute debating about what should be the light's aim, I point it at the vampire again, grimacing lightly at the sight and poking the creature lightly with my foot. I quickly pull it away, afraid it'll go back to 'life' or something. It doesn't happen, thankfully.

"I told you I carry holy water around for a reason!" Gerard's voice suddenly next to me makes me jump again, clutching onto my chest, glaring daggers at him - what he's most likely not able to see, unfortunately. He grabs his own phone, the screen lighting the small space between us just enough for us to see each other properly. Just like his voice had a proud hint, his wide smile also carries the same feeling, the row of short teeth somehow standing out more than the rest of his face under the dim light. He chuckles noticing my glare.

I roll my eyes, smiling a bit as finally allowing myself to calm down. "Idiot," I mutter through a breathy chuckle, weak, like if I've been holding my breath for hours.

"Anyways," Gerard says as poking the body with his foot too, pulling the arms stiff arms away from their chest after he bent down. I can't really see what he's doing, but an unamused look falls on my face once my eyes land on the pin, a pocket watch plus a few other things now on Gerard's hands. "At least it wasn't a completely bad situation."

"How can you be so fucking calm?" I ask in disbelief, another nervous chuckle coming from me. "I just fucking had a heart attack, I thought I'd fucking lost you."

"I believe in my holy water, love. And my silver cross pendants," he says in a matter-of-factly tone that just earns another indignant look from me. It makes him giggle. His giggle helps me a lot with relaxing.

"Though I believe we can cross the graveyard off the list of places to hang out in at midnight," he says with a nervous chuckle, moving to gather the things we left on the grass. Gerard throws some M&M's in his mouth before chugging down some Monster then handing my phone back to me. He holds everything clumsily with an arm while shoving the pocket watch and other things in his pocket before he offers me some of the drink.

It's still unbelievable how he's so calm. Actually, if you think well, not something really surprising after Elena's uncountable stories about vampires. Maybe there's more behind Donna's acts when she shakes her head in maybe reproval and rolls her eyes whenever the older woman is telling a story and the way Gerard's always excited about listening to these. And how their houses are full of crosses, creating a nice goth vibe that matches the dark wooden furniture and vintage decoration. How there's an unsaid superstition in whenever they walk in the house or leave it and the inaudibly muttered words whenever Donna's either serving or preparing some food. Or maybe the lack of family pictures. And too many mirrors hanging around the house.

Shaking my head to myself, I just sigh as taking the can in hand, pressing a quick kiss to Gerard's lips before taking a sip of the drink. "C'mon," I mutter lightly, making sure he's following me to out of this place.

#fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #mcr #emo #gerard way #gerard x reader #x reader #self insert #my chemical romance #gerard way imagine #imagines #halloween #vampire #writing #story #terror #fluff #suspense #my post