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sirowsky-stories · 3 months

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The Old Prince

Part 9

Author's Note: New Header! Because, oh yes, we're getting some major plot-twists! Can you tell I'm excited?

Description: You and Oberyn make a shocking discovery, which then leads to further complications, and not just for yourselves.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Monster Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, AU fic, obviously Halloween themed, reader cusses. Major TW for descriptions of small child being murdered. Word Count: 7500 Author's Masterlist

His home is calling. That is where he feels he must go to find the answers, even though you have no connection to Egypt beyond your association to him. But you were correct when you said it was his bite which ignited all this, changing you, or perhaps triggering something dormant from your innermost being. But whether it had always been there or was somehow put there by the dragon, there is no denying the fact that had you never crossed paths with Oberyn, you would likely have remained ordinary.

You’re still not awake when he carefully lands in the desert, far enough from any cities or settlements that no human eyes can track his descent, and he ensures that no people are crossing the barren landscape before he settles on a location. The ground is covered in crystalized salt, a remnant of the past when there was still a body of water here, although that was before even his time. But these views still bring back memories of his childhood, which is one of the reasons why he has rarely ever been back here.

Now though, he needs those memories. He must learn what is happening to the two of you, because he is convinced that your fates are linked in some manner, and although he does not yet have so much as a hypothesis, it feels as though the answer is knowable. He merely needs to find the right clues. But before he’s had a chance to do anything, you finally stir within his paws, so he pulls you away from his chest to see if you have awakened.

The bright afternoon sun is piercing to your eyes, which have been closed for several hours by now, so he quickly shifts you back underneath his shadow again, while you climb out of his hands and step onto the age-old sands.

“Wh-what happened? Where are we?” you ask, sounding disoriented by more than the unfamiliar surroundings, as though the light within you has altered some fundamental aspect of your sense of self, which is far more believable than it might sound.

But he cannot answer you in his dragon form, so he steps back to transform, careful not to accidentally swipe at you as his much larger form is retracted and folded away within him.

“Not far from where I was born,” he replies as soon as his mouth is functional again, while attempting to rearrange the weapons he had brought.

It had seemed prudent at the time to offer you something with which to defend yourself once the creatures had been located, even though he knew you would likely not be able to harm them. However, he has found that humans often find comfort merely in having the means of defending themselves, regardless of the chances for success. And given your quite obvious association with the dragon, it wouldn’t have hurt you to have the possibility of safeguarding yourself against potential aggression from humans either. Unfortunately, this reasoning had slipped his mind once the hunt had begun, so the weapons are now mostly an inconvenience.

“We’re in Egypt?” you question, clearly somewhat confused since your last memories before passing out were of the northern Californian coast.

“Yes. Something happened with the spirits and I… felt compelled to seek some answers.”

“What do you mean? What happened?” you ask, and you sound frightened now.

He gives up on the weapons, letting them drop to the ground for now, so that he can put his arms around your waist and hold you while he explains. Because he feels certain you will appreciate the support once you’ve heard what he has to say.

“When you hit the water, Octopus was there, ready to drag you down and end you, and I couldn’t get to you in time. I dove and swam after you, but she’s much faster than I am under water. I never would’ve caught up to you. She took you so deep so quickly that I thought your brain would surely have imploded by the time I reached you. But instead, you saved yourself.”

You look utterly baffled hearing this, and he does not blame you. For a few seconds, you merely stand idle in his embrace, thinking hard by the looks of it.

“But I was unconscious…” you try to reason, closing your eyes for a moment as your equilibrium falters and you sway slightly where you stand.

The healing has weakened you and he has no food to offer you this time, so he can only hope that time will help you regain at least some strength.

“You were, and I wonder if that’s why it happened. If you have some manner of built in defense whenever you’re unable to fight for your life. Consider that you were also unconscious after I bit you, only to wake up completely healed just hours later, without any loss of energy, unlike the time that Lupus first attacked you. Although, on that occasion, not much of you escaped unharmed,” he recalls, which seems to remind you that the bat and butterfly had very nearly carved your kidneys out midflight a while ago.

He lets go of you when you begin to examine yourself. Your clothes are in tatters, but as you shift the torn fabrics around, you find no gashes or exposed ribs. Just the same smooth skin Oberyn had caressed so lovingly the night before.

“That’s right, you did it again,” he explains once you’ve stopped searching for damage, drawing your gaze back to him, except now with even more confusion in your brows, while he remains only impressed. “But this time, you also created a blinding light all by yourself, which scared Octopus away and allowed me to reach you.”

“What are talking about? What light? And from where?”

“I don’t know exactly, I had to close my eyes against it. Even in the darkness at the bottom of the sea, it was blinding.”

Unexpectedly, hearing this brings tears to your eyes. Oberyn would have thought hearing of such a powerful defense within yourself would bring you peace, as it has already proven effective against the spirits and might mean a chance for you to evade their murderous plans. But instead, you appear only to experience despair.

“Why do you cry, my lady? You are capable of defending yourself against The Decem. Does this not comfort you?” he asks, feeling increasingly confused now, himself.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, perhaps to keep your torn clothes from flapping in the wind, but more likely in attempt to hold your being together, your gaze drops to the ground and tension becomes visible in your shoulders.

“I don’t know… what I am anymore,” you start, and while he wants to object, he holds his tongue and waits for you to speak your mind, as this is clearly affecting you deeply. “I’m not human or dragon, but then you tell me I might be this terrible thing, ready to turn all the world into darkness and pain. And now you tell me I’m somehow full of a light so powerful that even the spirits can’t stand it?”

You look up again now, and your gaze has grown even sadder. He feels as though you must be lost, wandering the world much as he did after his own initial transformation, looking for meaning or at least some explanation. But as he has yet to find one for his own circumstance, even after six millennia, he has no answers to offer you.

“Great…” you shrug, “So, what am I supposed to do with that? I don’t even know how to use it, I still have no idea how I can heal myself, or if the creatures were somehow set loose because of me.”

“No, my love,” he finally interrupts, for this line of thinking must be stopped, lest you start digging your own grave with it. “The creatures are not your fault; of this I am certain.”

“How?”

“Simple: You are not a Darkling.”

This conclusion seems to annoy you, and he can see why. For weeks now you have had no answers as to what has happened to you, while Oberyn has presented you with several possibilities, each one scarier than the next. At this point, you must be so tired of theories and fed up with worrying about things that are still completely beyond your control. So, he must do what he can to help you understand where his sudden confidence on this matter comes from.

“I have told you before that I’ve been skeptical of this diagnosis from the start, because of the radical differences between you and the only dark one I’ve seen before. Well, this light you possess is proof that I was correct. A Darkling cannot bring light to the world, in any fashion. Once awakened, it is only capable of destruction.”

A glimmer of hope sparks within your features then, and Oberyn suddenly realizes how absent such a feeling has been from your frame, ever since you learned of the creatures’ escape. Surely, you cannot have taken on the blame for their mayhem solely on the notion that you could be a contributing factor, had you turned out to be the shadow-bringer.

“But if that’s true, why are the spirits still hunting me?” you ponder then, and he must think on it for a moment.

“Probably because they, like us, know of nothing else which can see them.”

“So, even if there’s clear evidence to the contrary, they’re gonna keep coming after me?”

“Most likely, yes,” he nods, and the hope once more falls away from your frame.

You sink to your knees on the ground, letting your hands come to rest against your thighs, and he does not like how defeated it makes you look. He’s always known your personality to be large. Not loud or brash, but the kind which fills a room simply by entering it. As if your soul is constantly attempting to eliminate emptiness. He wonders sometimes if it comes from your childhood and your feelings of abandonment.

“The Decem do not think as you or I do. They exist in the moment. We can’t hope to convince them of your innocence, which leaves us with only one other option, and this is why I have brought us here.”

“Alright,” you say, confirming that you are listening, even though your head remains tilted forward and your tone conveys only the mildest interest.

“I believe that my own history might hold the key to understanding what you are. Because it can’t be coincidence that our lives have intersected, I cannot believe that something so pivotal happened by accident.”

“Pivotal? To us or the world?”

“Both. To my knowledge, we are the only two humanoids on this earth with supernatural abilities, and not only have we settled down on the same continent, but we each have been drawn to and frequented the same area around the Seven Hills for years, until we eventually crossed paths. The odds against these chains of events, which began with my transformation right here, six thousand years ago, are astronomical, Valya.”

“Okay, sure. But how does any of that help us now?” you question, turning your head to look out at the desolate landscape, still not meeting his eyes.

“I don’t know that yet.”

“And how exactly do you imagine that we’re gonna find any answers out here?” you challenge, throwing an arm out to gesture to the glaringly obvious lack of clues. “There’s nothing left of that time, Oberyn. The odd clay pot or stone tablet, sure, but I highly doubt we’re gonna happen upon the perfect find to help you piece together your past. It doesn’t work that way.”

Something in the way you say the final sentence makes irritation flare within him. Because while he does understand why you would be struggling with the notion of your own identity right now, it completely escapes his understanding that you would so strongly resist any possibility of finding answers.

“Why are you so unwilling to believe in us?” he questions, and when you still show no sign of engaging with him, the malcontent grows within his chest. “Is it really so hard to fathom that there might be a reason we were brought together? That maybe it is our connection to each other which makes you capable of this incredible light, just as being with you has enabled me to see hope once more.”

“I don’t see hope…” you admit then, and his anger quickly cools, because this is not the answer he was expecting. “My life was never truly good, I know that. But it was enough. I never dreamed of adventures or bravery, of being the hero. I just wanted to live a simple life with my garden and my horse and maybe one day get to travel some. This… the magic and mysticism and saving the world crap… I don’t want any of it.”

Once you’ve fallen silent, you finally look up to meet his eyes, and he can see how deeply you believe in every word spoken. How you cannot be enthusiastic about any of this because none of what’s happened has been to your benefit. Except…

“Does this mean you don’t want me either?” he asks, tentative now that he suddenly cannot be certain the answer will be favorable to him.

But the words could just as well have been a kick to your jaw. You hunch at the sound of them, falling in on yourself as though your heart has just pulled your chest with it while it plummets through you. No words fall across your lips, merely the pained breath which is pushed out by the sudden contraction of your stomach, in revolt against the agony you suffer for his faulty assumption. Relieved, but also ridden with guilt over his mistake, he kneels beside you and pulls you close.

“Forgive me, my love. I know better than to say such things.”

You let him hold you for a moment before you reach up to reciprocate, but once your arms are around his shoulders, your grip is firm. A confirmation of your feelings, strong and true, even though your world outside of this relationship has come to an abrupt, and painful, end.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

He takes you on a slow stroll through the desert, hand in hand, while he searches for these answers which he seems unreasonably certain he’ll find here, despite being in the middle of fucking nowhere. You don’t share his attitude for one very clear reason: whatever he might find is unlikely to mean good news for you.

Since this whole thing started, aside from meeting Oberyn and falling in love with him, everything that’s happened has meant pain, loss and unwanted change for you, none of which you’re eager to continue experiencing. Yes, the likelihood of you being a Darkling has significantly decreased, but you’re still no closer to a happy ending because of it. You’re still under attack and you may yet have to give your life to see an end to this conflict. Which is absolutely the very worst-case scenario, given how the dragon would likely react to losing you.

You try not to think about that as he leads you further out onto the salt-flats, where the heat of the sun makes the plain ground look like liquid in the distance. But you’re still so caught up in your own thoughts that when he suddenly stops, it’s only his hand in yours which alerts you to the fact that he’s no longer moving. Turning back to find out what’s caught his attention, you find him staring at the ground right at his feet, where there’s nothing of interest to be seen.

“What is it?” you quietly ask, hoping you’re not interrupting him in the middle of rediscovering a lost memory.

“I know this spot. This exact spot,” he slowly responds, and you step closer so that you can see his expression even though his head is bowed.

You want to ask how he could possibly know where he even is when everything looks the same for miles and miles, but that won’t help anything.

“Why? What happened here?” you ask instead, worried now as his face has begun to reveal a truly haunted image.

“My nephew… this is where he was torn from his mother’s arms. This is where he was thrown to the ground, toyed with, and crushed under the feet of half a dozen tribesmen. Barely a week old…” he says, whispering the last part.

He didn’t remember this much before, and you’re afraid to disturb him now that he seems to be reliving those horrible moments, even though it clearly tortures him, so you remain silent and still beside him.

“My sister screamed, begging for his life, trying to fight her way to him, but they kicked him between themselves as if he was a football, keeping him out of her reach. His father and I ran to her and tried to intervene, but they stabbed him in the back, and when I attempted to fight in his stead, I was beaten with a club until my neck broke and I fell to the floor.”

He’s crying now, shaking all over as if he’s freezing cold despite the heat of the sun above, and you hate to see him like this. The usual might of his shoulders no longer there, the stoic frame of his chest and seasoned wisdom in the set of his brow nowhere to be seen. You want to help him, but what can you do? He came here because he wanted to understand his own past, and now this place seems to be giving him exactly what he wished for, so however much it hurts you to see it, you must let him suffer through this. But you don’t have to let him do it alone.

“I’m here, honey,” you whisper as you take his hands, so that even if he can’t hear you, he might still know you’re there. “I’m right here with you.”

He doesn’t see you even though his eyes are wide open, but the moment your hands slip into his, he grips you firmly, as if he fears he might disappear into the memory without an anker in the present. And for all you know, there’s every chance he really could.

“I’m lying face down on the floor, gasping for air, unable to move, but I can still hear them. The screams and the cries. And then just desperate wails as the child goes quiet. God. He survived their sadistic game for so long…” he continues, but his voice breaks in the end, and he droops to his knees.

You follow, crying as badly as he is at this unfathomable picture he’s painting for you, enabling you to experience it with him, so that you might have a chance to understand at least some of all this. But then he flinches. Not hard enough to rock his entire body, but enough for you to know that something shocking just happened within the memory.

“The light… it’s blinding… everywhere, all at once,” he breathes, while his gaze moves around, seeing something entirely other than the desert lands of your time. “It doesn’t burn at first, it just makes everyone stop and cover their eyes. But I can’t. I can’t move, not even to close my eyes, but I can see… through the light.”

His eyes move quickly over the desert, as if he’s searching for something, and then they stop. He stares at a fixed point behind you, over your right shoulder, and you wish you could see whatever it is that he does.

“What is it, honey? What did you see in the light?” you ask when he doesn’t continue.

You expect him to say that he saw the other dragon, the one who presumably died by giving Oberyn the fire, but he doesn’t answer you at all. His expression quickly shifts from despair into something more like awe, and for a second, you can swear you see some kind of figure reflected in the wetness of his eyes. But then he blinks, and it’s gone, before he closes his eyes and somehow you know that the memory is over and he’s back with you.

“Hey, look at me,” you beckon, when he lets go of your hands and brings his palms up to rub his face. “What just happened? What was that?”

You have to grab his wrists and pull his hands away from his face to get him to look at you, but again, his expression is not what you expect it to be. He doesn’t look haggard or pained by the experience he just had, instead he meets your worried gaze with what appears to be that same awe from before. And yet, he doesn’t answer you.

“Oberyn?” you try, and he does react to your voice this time, but by getting back on his feet and turning his back to you.

He takes a few steps forward, putting his hands on his hips and exhaling hard a few times, and somehow, you get the feeling that this isn’t relief. More like he’s preparing to tell you something difficult. You stand as well, starting to feel worried, and you’re just about to approach him when he sighs deeply.

“It wasn’t a dragon that did this to me,” he says, and he sounds torn between sorrow and joy. “There was no other dragon.”

“Then what was it? What changed you?”

Another deep breath passes through him before he turns around, and once he does, you feel like you already know the answer. As if your body can sense it from his before a single word has been spoken.

“It was Lux. The spirit of Day.”

The moment you hear that name, something passes through you. Not a feeling so much as a realization.

Recognition.

“Me…” you breathe, scarcely able to acknowledge the thought. “I… I did this to you.”

He nods slowly, but his features reveal nothing of what he feels in that moment.

“It was you, all this time,” he says, and there’s a softness to his voice which takes your mind to the solemnity of a church.

To heavy subjects and grave implications, mixed with deep respect and reverence. But you can’t possibly be the reason why he would feel these things.

“No, it can’t be. I remember my life, I’ve only lived for thirty odd years, how could I have been in ancient Egypt, it makes no sense!” you ramble, getting desperate now because this is too much to ingest.

“I told you that no one has ever seen Day, that not even the spirits know who she is, and this explains it.”

“No, it doesn’t! How does this explain anything?”

He comes closer to you, and without meaning it, you recoil. Fear grips you at the idea that all his long years of solitude, agony and despair, could be your fault, and your body reacts. Although, whether to protect him or yourself, you’re not sure. Noticing your fear and desperation, he stops, but worry seeps into his face then.

“Don’t you see, Valya? The Latin word for day is Lux, which also means light, and light is everywhere, just at different times. You exist in all things and all places, which means you’re never just one person in one moment.”

“If that were true, then why is the Night spirit a bat, and not capable of the same?”

“Because light undoes dark. Yes, night falls upon each day, but only because the Earth turns away from the sun. Not because light no longer exists. All dark places, no matter how deep the blackness, are unveiled by light, and therefor, you are the most powerful of all spirits. Yes, in your natural form you’re probably much the same as the others, beyond thoughts or reasoning, existing only in the moment and the feeling. But unlike them, you must be able to choose when you wish to be seen, and in which form, since light can be bent and manipulated into any shape.”

Logically, it all makes sense, and you have no reason to believe that this man who has lived longer than any other, wouldn’t know what he was talking about. In fact, he’s probably the only one who even remotely understands these things. But you still resist. Not for lack of memory of past events, but simply because you don’t want to be the one responsible for Oberyn’s pain. He’s everything to you. Your light and purpose, your friend and confidant, your fucking soulmate.

He tries to approach you again, and just like before you back away. You can’t help it, you’re too scared of unknowingly doing something damaging to him. But this time, your rebuke saddens him, and you recall his question earlier. “Does this mean you don’t want me either?” Just hearing it had turned your insides into a pit of knives, and the memory brings the feeling back.

“I may not know why you changed me, but now that I’m certain it was you, I can only believe you had some plan for me,” he says without a trace of accusation in his tone. “Something you sensed coming, important enough to create a being so strong it could burn down this whole world, should it be deemed unavoidable. I know you, my love. Spirit or not, you would never willfully condemn anyone to an eternity of loneliness. And whatever else you might be, this person you chose to be born into is also you, and the life you’ve lived as a human is equally responsible for the character you’ve become. None of that is undone by the past. You are still the woman I love, and you always will be.”

Enchanted by his words, you’ve remained still while he’s crept closer to you, and when he falls silent, he’s suddenly only inches away. Before you can recover, he steals a long and loving kiss, using the intimacy to snare you into his embrace where you can’t help but melt into him.

From the first day you met his human form he’s been intoxicating to you, and maybe this does explain how that could be. Maybe you’ve loved him ever since he was an ordinary man. And if so, could you have filled him with light and made him so powerful as a way of protecting him? Somehow that seems… excessive. What you know with absolute certainty is that if something were to happen to him now, you would stop at nothing to save him. And since spirits are even deeper connected to their emotions than humans are, it is plausible you’ve always felt that way about him.

But it’s such a strange thing to absorb when you have no recollection of being anything else, of living in any other time, and maybe there’s a reason for that. Possibly just that the spirit of Day isn’t supposed to have memories. The problem is, you can’t help but think that what if the reason you can’t remember it, is because Oberyn is wrong and you’re something else entirely.

Wishful thinking, perhaps, but is it really so farfetched? The only way to know for sure is if you can figure out how to use your light, since that would be undeniable proof of your connection to Lux. But you don’t even know how to start. Then something occurs to you, and you pull back to look at your man.

“You said that light can be bent and manipulated into any form, right?”

“Yes.”

“Which means, theoretically, I could do that to any source of light, at will?”

“As far as I understand it, yes. Where are you going with this?”

“The spirits are made of light, aren’t they? So, is it possible… I mean, if I am Day… could I control all of them?”

His eyebrows shoot up at that, so clearly this is something he hasn’t considered.

“It makes even more sense than you realize, my dear. That’s likely the very reason why Day is never seen.”

“Because she’s already there, within all the others, like a natural piece of them. I mean, I am,” you correct yourself, trying to taste the words in the hopes that they’ll somehow start to feel right, but they just don’t. “Shit, this is so screwed up! How can I be her and not even know it?”

“I think our biggest concern at the moment is rather the question of why you’ve come to exist in human form at all? What’s changed in the world to warrant such an extreme measure?”

“Also, why can’t the other spirits tell that I’m one of them, and possibly even a part of them?”

“A conundrum, indeed. However, now that we have learned what we can from this place, I think we’d best head back and resume our hunt for the creatures. Perhaps in doing so, you can uncover the secret to using your power.”

“Let’s hope so, or this might be the shortest war in history.”

He smiles at your attempt to relieve some of the drama, but probably also to offer you some encouragement, since he undoubtedly knows by now that when you joke about deadly serious stuff, it’s usually because you’re scared out of your mind. You let him take a few steps away from you so he won’t knock you over with his transformation, but once he’s done, he doesn’t open his front paw to you.

Instead, he lays down flat and places his front leg against his own side, like a stepping-stone. He wants you to ride on his shoulders, apparently no longer concerned about his hairs injuring you, and while you’re not sure if you’ll be safer hidden within his paws or free to move around on his back, you are curious about what riding a dragon would feel like. Probably nothing like riding a horse, but undoubtedly a thrilling sensation all the same.

But when you step up to him and prepare to climb on, you notice something which hasn’t occurred to you before, and which makes you stop and frown while you try to remember if you’ve just been inattentive or if this has happened as incredibly fast as it appears.

“Hey… you’re a lot bigger than before,” you observe, looking from his snout to your left, all the way down to his tail, curled up further away to your right, and then up towards the muscular arch of his back and the two massive joints connecting it to the wings.

He watches you measure him, and there’s confusion in his golden eyes, so you attempt to elaborate.

“The first time I watched you transform; I figured you were about eight feet tall from the base of your chest to the top of your shoulders. But now, I’d say you’re more like twice that. Which, incidentally, means there’s no way I can climb up from here.”

Still with a perplexed expression, he starts looking himself over and you watch as his confusion is slowly replaced with surprise, so clearly, this is something that’s happened without him noticing either. There’s nothing to be done about it and frankly, it’s not really important right now either, so you move to his hindleg and use that to climb onto his lower back instead, and since you’re unaccustomed to the slippery surface of his scales, you crawl on all fours up to his shoulders.

Once there, you make another strange discovery, in the form of a few bald patches of hair along his neck. Although, you decide not to tell him that. You’re not sure how important his looks are to him, but judging by how impeccably he manages his grooming, there’s every chance baldness would negatively affect him. There was no indication of his human form being similarly affected, so hopefully this is just a result of his recent skirmishes with the spirits.

He waits until he feels you settle in and find your balance before he opens his wings and starts to walk around on the ground for a bit, just flapping a few times to let you feel his movements. It’s difficult to describe just how strong he feels. You imagine that compared to a horse, sitting on an elephant must be like going from a go-cart to a formula one car, in terms of power. But using the same comparison, Oberyn would be like a space shuttle.

And when he starts running against the wind to give you a softer liftoff than if he just jumps and pushes up, in some ways, it really does feel like he’s about to launch you into space. It’s a completely different experience from his back. Once he’s off the ground and the windspeed picks up, you have to lay down as flat against his neck as you can, to avoid getting pushed off by it. But surprisingly, you have no trouble staying put when he turns and maneuvers through the air.

The Atlantic seems to spread out underneath you in no time at all, so he’s not cruising along, and yet, you don’t feel as though you’re moving all that fast. Until there’s suddenly a loud bang, and it takes you a second to grasp that it was the sonic boom of the dragon breaking the sound barrier. You know enough about speed to understand that you shouldn’t be able to breathe if he’s flying that fast, so he must somehow also control the airflow around his body to keep you from suffocating.

In any case, it doesn’t take long before you begin to see land ahead. But if it’s the North American east coast, then someone’s done a real number on it. He slows down and drops lower as you glide in over land, and as far as you can see in all directions the ground looks similar to how it would if a wildfire had raged over it for days. But the trees and grass aren’t dead. Instead, they look like they’ve mutated into something you might’ve expected to see grow out of crude oil.

The tree trunks are black and somehow slimy, and their branches look like snakes covered in needles, just waiting for something living to walk by close enough for them to strike. The grass, meanwhile, resembles thick earthworms attempting to crawl out of the soil but being too deeply embedded in the ground to break free, tangling with one another in their efforts. Bushes and shrubs could just as well be some manner of horridly overgrown stick insects, actual insects have become at least ten times their normal size and overall nightmarish, and even rocks are oozing black goo and moving around, like halfdead trolls.

“This is what you talked about, isn’t it?” you guess once he’s set down some twenty miles inland, in the middle of a large clearing, and he nods once in confirmation which makes your stomach drop. “So, there is a Darkling at work. But if it isn’t me then… who?”

Just as you’ve said it, there’s a delighted laughter coming from what used to be woods to your left, and when you seek out the source, you’re rocked to your core to find Simon walking through the disfigured woods.

“You never really believed that it could be you, did you? Miss Pretty Little Loner. Hah! As if you could ever command this level of dark power.”

He looks exactly the same, save for the small detail that his feet are somehow joined with the wormlike grass, almost as if he’s grown out of it. And when he walks, there are no feet at the base of his legs, the worms just sort of… tear out of the ground when he lifts one leg, and then rejoins it when he finishes the movement.

“Oh, my god. So, Caelum was drawn to a dark presence at the Thanksgiving party, and when she noticed that I could see her, she assumed it had to be me,” you ponder, finally beginning to understand how all the pieces of this puzzle fit together.

“Bingo. And you actually bought it, you dumb bitch,” Simon snickers, obviously delighted that he’s managed to fool you all this time.

Suddenly his odd behavior that day, as well as his persistent attempts to keep you away from Oberyn, slip perfectly into place. He’s known all along what you are, and to him, it was apparently great fun to watch you fumble in the dark.

The dragon growls in warning, probably objecting to the name-calling more than anything, but you’re more concerned with the sudden absence of the spirits. Surely, they must’ve felt the presence of all this darkness being born and multiplying in record pace, so why aren’t they here, fighting it? They certainly never wasted any time trying to take you out.

“Oberyn, where are The Decem? Shouldn’t they be here already?” you whisper, low enough that Si can’t hear it from his position at the edge of the clearing.

But the beast can’t speak, so even if he does know the answer, he can’t tell you. And he’s not gonna risk returning to his human form when there’s a fully developed Darkling next to him. You’re gonna have to try and work this out on your own.

“Aren’t the spirits supposed to be able to sense you? How have you kept them off your scent all this time?” you ask Simon, hoping that his ego will enjoy the opportunity to brag.

“Well, you’re a fool if you think that evolution only happens to creatures of the day. Did the beast never tell you what happened to the last Darkling? I mean, sheesh… no way I was gonna go out like that. So, I figured out how to develop the dark power without actually using it, ergo, no trail for the spirits to follow.”

“And I suppose this is where you want me to congratulate you on your amazing genius?”

“It wouldn’t hurt. I mean, I have done something unprecedented in all of time. Kind of a big deal in certain circles.”

“So, that’s it? You’ll just cover the world in darkness and then live happily ever after?” you sneer, because it genuinely seems so stupid.

“Sounds about right.”

“And when everything’s dead or corrupted beyond redemption, what then? What’s the almighty Simon Truxly gonna do for fun once the world is done ending?”

“You’re not paying attention, sweetheart. I told you, even darkness evolves. The world will end, you’re right about that, but there’ll still be living things to torture for all eternity,” he happily chirps, leaving no doubts regarding just how rotten he must be inside.

“Not if we stop you.”

“Ah, yes. The omnipotent Lux and her pet. I’m sure you felt me coming even back then, that’s probably why you made that thing. Because to a being which exists outside of time, even things thousands of years away from happening are an imminent threat. And of course, you needed him to be well under control by the time I sprang to life, or the world would’ve gone to shit no matter what,” he snickers, but you find nothing amusing about the picture he’s painting.

Because you can see it. You can very vividly imagine what it would look like if a completely undisciplined dragon went to war with a mature Darkling. Especially if there were no spirits around to help. Where are they?

“I’m not gonna let you do it, Si. If you know me at all, you know I don’t stand idly by when bad things happen. And if you were truly so nonchalant about my power then you wouldn’t be wasting all this time trying to convince me that I can’t beat you.”

As cocky as you’re being, you’re also wondering just when you hopped onboard the “I’m a spirit”-train. Because while you’re beginning to hope it’s true, you’re still not convinced that you really are Day.

“I bet he told you that light will always undo darkness, but that’s not true. Even physicists will agree with me there, not that it matters. Bottom line: you’re not gonna beat me. Unlike you, I’ve been training, practicing, preparing all my life for this, while you still thought you were human just a few weeks ago.”

“And unlike you, I don’t remember being anything but human, which is why I still value my humanity. It’s not weakness, it’s what makes everything worth the effort. If life was simply about journeying through pain and darkness, we would’ve seized to exist ages ago, and then who would you play this fucked up game with?” you challenge, and his expression sours.

“Yeah, you’re right. I am wasting time, so let’s get to the fighting then, shall we.”

Before he’s even finished that sentence, with a mere flick of his wrist, a giant root-system is wrought out of the ground. Hundreds of yards of seemingly sentient and malevolent tentacles, coming at you and Oberyn from all directions at lightning speed. The dragon reacts at the first sign of movement, sending a large flame at the closest tangle of roots, which does destroy them. But there are so many of them.

Simon has an arsenal unlike any other, because there are more trees on Earth than there are stars in the Milky Way, not to mention all the other plants, as well as animals, he can corrupt and command. And what do you have? Even now, when your life is threatened, you don’t know the answer to that question. No light flares from within, no hidden connections to the spirits are revealed.

You have nothing. No weapons and no armor, except for the man and monster you love, who now fights for you with everything he is while you just sit there, holding on as best you can. But in the end, still helpless.

Oberyn is fierce in this enraged state. His flame is about to reach the same level of destruction as what he’d awoken in Detroit, and he’s spewing it without pause all around the two of you. How he can do that without needing to breathe in between volleys is beyond your understanding, but what you do know is that despite his colossal effort, he isn’t winning.

And then, amidst the fiery chaos, as if momentarily spellbound, your gaze is drawn away from the battle, towards something moving strangely slowly through the air. It takes a second for you to figure out which distance this unknown featherlike thing is at, but once your focus aligns, you realize that what you’re looking at are bright green strands of hair. Lots of them. Remembering the bald patches, you look down on the dragon’s neck, finding no part of the once thick mane intact.

Shockingly, however, it quickly becomes a mere footnote on this day’s list of unexpected developments, because what you’re looking at is no longer the slick green rows of perfectly aligned scales on Oberyn’s alter ego. Instead, what’s underneath you now is at least ten times bigger, completely white with much larger, thicker, and rock-like scales. The normal golden glow of his eyes has turned bright blue, and somehow, you know those eyes.

You’ve seen this beast before, in another time. He’s as old as you are. The first dragon, created by the clash of light and dark, long before any life had evolved in the galaxy. And back then, he’d been a creature of night, breaking the earth apart and reshaping it countless times over. It was his anger and despair which had sent continents clashing together, creating mountain ranges and deep-sea trenches.

For eons he’d raged, while you, a mere spirit with no other ability than to chase away shadows, had felt his agony and searched for a way to end it. By the time you’d learned of the complete absence of light within him, he’d become so infested with hatred, you’d feared no light could ever penetrate his blackened heart.

You’d gone to him anyway, formless, just a light hovering around his head, hoping for a moment of his focus. And you’d gotten only that. One moment. Just enough to show him. But once he’d seen true light, brightness had taken hold of him and found a home within his chest, so strong it had turned his body white. From that moment, no shadow, no matter how deep, could ever again sway him. And with that freedom, he’d chosen to give his strength, all his might and power… to you.

“Tyrannus,” you hear yourself say as the memory leaves you, and you know exactly what it means.

Tyrant. Oppressor. But it was also his name. The name of the first beast to walk the Earth, who’s powers you have now bestowed upon the old prince.

Part 10

The Ten Spirits of the World Air - Forest - Water - Stone - Night - Autumn - Winter - Spring - Summer.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! If you wish to be notified when this story is updated, follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications, or just ask nicely, and I'll tag you.

@harriedandharassed @kittenlittle24 @joelswritingmistress @pedrostories

#oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn x reader #au fic #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones au #modern au #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #halloween fic #spooky season fic #sirowsky stories

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guess-that-ship · 6 months

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S7 Round 1

What a Timeskip Does to a MF

K is a member of a hero team that fights against monsters. S is the hybrid child of a human and one of these monsters. They first meet when S kidnaps K (which to be honest is kinda normal for him), and when he learns about S' backstory he's willing to help him achieve his goal of bridging the gap between the two races. With the team they manage to end the war between the humans and monsters, and things seem to be peaceful, enough to warrant a two year time skip, even.

But in these two years, K and S have gotten closer than ever, probably helped by the fact that the rest of the team is gone for reasons. Together, they manage to achieve S' goal, something that still feels unreal to him, but K is right by his side to cheer him on. But when S has to undo those two years of progress by admitting to a crime he never committed to keep the team safe, K unleashes a fury on the real culprit that he's never had before. In the end, K thanks S for sacrificing his goal temporarily, and when the two meet up again, S says that he knows K and the rest of the team has his back.

K might be a bit of a dunce who can't read between the lines very well, and S might be way too overreliant on subtext, but they understand each other in a way no one else can.

More to Love

cw: major spoilers

Gold is gentle, lonely, confused, and in desperate need of companionship. Silver is a killer, miserable, introverted, very mentally ill, and trapped in a rough job that led him to run out on his wife Red without explanation. He's known and cared for Gold his whole life, but Gold doesn't know he exists until Events force them to meet and Silver ends up effectively kidnapping Gold and taking him to another country.

Red and Gold get along like a house on fire, and Red tells Silver she wishes he hadn't kept Gold from her for so long. Not only can she handle him, but her affection for Gold is inextricably tied to her love for Silver. Red appears to be the companionship Gold craves. She is also Silver's wife, but she's angry with Silver and likes Gold more at the moment—and wants Silver to know it. Gold doesn't trust Silver and doesn't like how he treats Red, but Silver tries to open up to him. He's very bad at it. He's also jealous of Gold and Red's new relationship.

Ultimately Silver has to reveal to Gold his own horrific childhood and the truth of who Gold is. And then the sad, agonized Silver, who wants nothing more than to hide away and make everything stop, DECIDES HE WOULD RATHER SUFFER FOR ETERNITY WITH GOLD than have eternal peace without Gold. (It's not even romantic! Probably!) He barely has to think about it. Then sweetheart Gold blackmails a god and endangers millions of lives to rescue Silver. Divine intervention, their own connection, and Red's timely heroism save them and send them back to her, minus the jealousy, now with a tight loving relationship.

#s7 #tournament poll #s7 round 1 #spoilers

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whattraintracks · 1 month

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27. Human Friends - TMNT 1987

Buffy and Raphael should've been best friends, spread the word

"Poor Little Rich Turtle" is a spectacular episode

almost entirely because of Buffy Shellhammer

all the boys need more friends their age, Raphael especially

and these two could have gotten along SO WELL

in that episode, Michelangelo’s level of attraction to Buffy is inversely proportional to Raphael’s begrudging respect for her

I bet Raphael tells her about Michelangelo's crush as a joke

and she declares she has no interest in anyone human, turtle, boy, girl, or otherwise, and they high-five/three about it

he would love having a rich friend that lets him hang out in her mansion

he makes fun of her for said mansion but still shamelessly takes advantage of her wealth

which is fair since she’s been trashing his sewer home since day one

Leonardo’s joke about seeing "how the other half lives"? Yeah, they run that bit six feet under

she does not care that Raphael and his brothers are local heroes they’re just some weird little dudes from beneath the city to her

she is, however, so excited to learn about all the hidden sewer routes around the city so she can escape her more boring responsibilities

they're both made of pretty tough stuff and predictably bond over their abnormal childhoods and limited connections/friends

"don't get out much, do you?" he says like he doesn’t have equally negative amounts of experience with normal teenage fun!!

zero understanding of typical friendship rituals between them

they wrestle, gift each other weird stuff, and spend a lot of time trying to figure out what normal teenagers do, only to give up and do something else because the things they thought of sounded boring

they'll just randomly ask each other stuff like, "did you know most people only eat three meals a day with specific foods for each meal?" and be totally confused together about it

they also have the most skewed concept of money

Raphael has never paid for anything in his life other than pizza, and while Buffy knows the exact value of super niche chemical tech supplies, she could not give you a reasonable estimate for produce

a lifetime with Donatello has made Raphael a surprisingly good sounding board for the more technical aspects of Buffy’s work

which she does enjoy, as well as cutthroat business operations, she just hates her public persona and sucking up to adults who think they know better than her

he likes to hold the fact that t(he)y saved her life (multiple times) over her head, but like as a joke

except for when he tries to use it to win arguments

unfortunately, it never works, she is the most ungrateful brat ever thank you much

they very much share that I don’t owe anyone anything attitude

EXCEPT for Master Splinter, whom they mutually respect and agree is the only acceptable adult

she unironically complains about humans with him but particularly has beef with adults, and he heartily encourages this

they love that they can be total jerks around each other without hurting anyone else’s delicate feelings

THEE besties who judge people and hate each other affectionately

all the insults: "martian" "nerd" "pet store reject" "spoiled brat"

when they’re not coming up with colorful insults for each other, they’re doing it together for other people

it's their favorite bonding activity <3

since she enjoyed their initial misadventure so much, she asks if she can go out with the turtles to fight and stuff again, and Raphael laughs at her

until she takes a bunch of martial arts classes and totally kicks his shell

and, well, he supposes a nice easy patrol or two might be fun

unfortunately, the team cannot handle the strength of their combined sass, and she’s forbidden from ever joining them again, even though she has a mean left hook

ultimately, I think they’d mellow each other out now that they have an outlet for their angst and eventually grow and learn a lot from one another

but, mostly, they just talk so much crap together

#march for raph #buffy is one of my favorite one-off human characters from this series #i unironically love her and i am totally correct about this #raphael hamato #buffy shellhammer #headcanons #character analysis #episode analysis #poor little rich turtle #tmnt 1987 #tmnt #whattrainofthought

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kaddyssammlung · 6 months

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Hey, I'm begging you to stay My dark side won today My heart keeps breaking Over and over Hey, don't let me out your sight Can't trust myself tonight My heart keeps breaking Can you talk me off the ledge again?

Bring Me The Horizon - Darkside

My fellow addict Oli Sykes says it best sometimes.

I just found a strange article about him and he...what?! I had no idea. He even read the Bhagavad Gita?! Jésus that dude seems to crave enlightenment as much as I do. I'm not totally imagining him and Vessel talking about books like ”A course in miracles” and other stuff like that when they tour together. Maybe he just thinks that he finds more answers in Hinduism? Idk. Or that it's cool to learn about that. Whatever broadens your horizon.

Not what I wanted to talk about.

TW from here on: SH, ED and trauma

A video showed up in my suggestions on YouTube yesterday and I watched it. It hit home in a very strange way. It was not bad or anything it just idk. It was Gabor Maté talking about how Childhood Trauma leads to addiction. I just put it in here if someone is interested in watching it.

youtube

It's that sentence that destroyed me “when there is stress and trauma these endorphin systems don't develop and then when people do h*roin it feels lika a warm soft hug to them. They feel love and connection for the first time”. Yes....I can confirm that.

He resolves this whole thing by saying that you have rediscover yourself so you can recover. I love that. And yeah that is also true and that is what I have been doing.

But it triggered something in me and it happened really fast. My impulse controlle stopped working and I crumbled. I started eating way to much because it's an easy “thing” to do. The reason I keep overeating is because most humans don't even rise their eyebrow on behavior like that. They think it's normal. I ate until I couldn't eat anymore. But I did not calm down. So I threw up. Have not done that intentionally in a long time but there are things you just remember in a way. If that makes sense. When I was done with that I still felt shitty. So I sat down and guess what?! There is not much left to do? Right?! So yeah I self-harmed. I got so angry that I put on a meditation and focused on that instead. Finally.

You should have done that earlier, you might say and yes you are right. I was still in a weird mood this morning but a lot calmer. I ran with my doggo until I was totally calm. It took me almost 13km but that's what running is for. So I decided to meditate again. My goal was to really and fully let go regardless of how long it would take. After almost one hour I had that strange experience where I started seeing light coming out ofmy hands. This has never happend to me before! It's not uncommen. I have heard many humans talk about stuff like that.

But a few questions remain...

Did I get a reward now for acting out yesterday? Did something step in and help me today? Like an angel or a spiritual guide? I'm confused but also in a good mood.

#childhood trauma #living with cptsd #actually cptsd #actually borderline #actually bpd #tw ed #tw sh related #healing journal #healing journey #spiritualgrowth #spiritual awakening #Youtube

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quantumhealingava · 1 year

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dolores cannon notes:

♡︎ 'She came back into this lifetime with the plan of helping other people, to make up for her inability to help in that lifetime. Her present father had been one of the Nazi soldiers, the first to rape her. He had returned to repay the injustice by being her father, intending to raise and protect her. That had been the plan, but it apparently changed after he got here into the body. The subconscious said he got caught up in the ways of the flesh, and forgot his original purpose. This shows that even though the incoming soul has a good plan and noble intentions to repay karma, life has a way of affecting them, and being human is not that easy. On the other side it always looks easy, like it would be simple to accomplish. But the incoming soul forgets that, because this is a world of free will, it will have to contend with the free will of others, and the pressures of being human dealing with emotions. So he was caught up in it, and regrettably accumulated more karma. Both of these men are to be pitied rather than reviled.'

♡︎ 'A case of extreme depression and isolation from society (since childhood) was traced back through two former lifetimes. Although the man was born into a very large family (12 children), he never felt a closeness to any of them. There was always the feeling of isolation, and depression. This continued throughout his life: a feeling of apathy, of not caring, of being an observer on the outside looking in. He was treated by psychiatrists and put on medication for depression, but he didn’t think it did any good. Even natural remedies had no affect. One diagnosis called it “Freedom from harm” complex. In other words, to avoid being hurt, it was easier to shut down and not get involved with people or anything. It was a lonely existence, even his job gave him no satisfaction. Suicide only made things worse, because the law of karma says that you must repeat the same circumstances until you learn the lesson. And that certainly seemed true, as he tearfully said, “My life now is a repeat of that one. I didn’t escape from anything.” He thought the first woman that he was attracted to in this present life was the same woman from the other life, and she also rejected him. History was repeating itself.'

♡︎ 'He still thought about his lost love, and wanted to be with her again. He was told that love was what it was all about, but to experience the same relationship again would not advance him. He could be with her again, but in a different role capacity. That was what it was all about: switching and playing different parts, often with the same people. Thus we return again and again, switching back and forth in our role-playing in the next scenario. The important thing to remember was that we could never lose that love. Death cannot separate us. It is just placed in another form, but it is never lost. Love is the greatest lesson of all, no matter how many challenges it must go through. We are always reunited in one form or another. To understand love and experience it is the ultimate lesson. Once we understand this, we can have love and compassion for everyone, for we never know which role they have chosen to play this time around.'

♡︎ 'When the body dies, is there any pain associated with it when the spirit leaves?

A: No. It seems that the spirit leaves the body shortly before the physical body actually dies. I thought of sudden death in war. There seems to be great confusion. Also other sudden, “accidental” deaths. In old age and in illness, the spirit takes trips out in preparation.

Q: Many people have told me that when a baby is born, the spirit doesn’t remain in the body all the time. Is this correct? A: The spirit is aware of the time of conception, and it is possible for the spirit to “check in” on the progress of the fetus. It seems to enter at birth or shortly after. But because it is so connected to the spirit world, it does take “trips” to visit the familiar home. Sudden infant death seems to be when the spirit chooses to stay in the spirit world. Or perhaps stayed longer than the newly emerging physical body is able to operate on its own. It seems that we do need the force of the spirit in cooperation with the physical body in order to maintain physical life.'

♡︎ 'Q: Is there really much difference between meditation and prayer?

A: There is a large difference. “Prayer” is consciously directed energy. “Meditation” is being open to what comes in. Prayer is directing, not so much asking. Prayer means to consciously direct your thoughts which are your power.

Q: Then prayer is a real thing?

A: Prayer is definitely real, and it is definitely powerful.'

#akashicrecords #philosophy #writer #love #reincarnation #academia #astrology #esoteric #dolorescannon #qhht #pastlives #galacticlove

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thegreyscalerainbow · 1 year

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Slash Ships Get to Know Me

Thank you for tagging me @animeangelriku

Rules: Name at least five (but no upper limit) slash (M/M) ships you love. Each from a different fandom.

1. Puzzleshipping (YuGiOh!)- To anyone outside the fandom, it may not make sense, and when I was originally in the Yugioh fandom circa 2006 it didn't make sense to me either. It confused the hell out of me because I was a baby ace ignorant of anything other than what media spoonfed me. But I did value their relationship deeply and knew they did love each other to come capacity. It wasn't until I finally got to watch the subtitled version as an adult that it clicked. It's so very special to me because even though I had preferred the platonic version of it as a kid, it's still incredibly nostalgic for me and it came back into my life at a time when I needed it

1. Ozbert (Pandora Hearts) - Controversial, I know, (It used to be the most popular ship in the fandom) and I have not engaged with this ship in some years since it got in the line of sight for a lot of antis. I actually left a Pandora Hearts discord server over the harassment I saw. But again, I am asexual and aromatic, and this relationship was the first slash ship I got heavily into when I was a teenager. It's got tons of nuance and angst, and as someone who has read a lot of period fiction and is very aware of what was socially acceptable at the time, I view this completely differently from a modern-day setting. My enjoyment of this ship has morphed and is actually not romantic now, but it's on this list for leaving an impact on me. For those who balk at the idea that Oz is 15 and Gilbert is 24 for the main story arc, keep in mind that due to plot reasons, this is a very specific scenario, with supernatural elements and actual time travel involved. In the beginning, Gil is 14 and Oz is 15. So this is someone who had a childhood crush, clung to that love for ten years, but now his crush is back and hasn't aged a day. For me, it's exploring the complexity of that, and it's tragic. Gilbert is such a wonderful character, and any way you look at his feelings, you just know that even if it's not romantic, he and Oz are family.

3. VaNoe (The Case Study of Vanitas) - Same author as Pandora Hearts, and I just know she is going to hurt me again. And I will thank her. We have a reversal of the usual dynamic seen with vampire series. This time, it's the sweet naiive cinnamon roll Vampire, and edgy dark Human with a mysterious past and a broken moral compass. They are foils for each other and have so much chemistry it just works so well! At first, Noe does not like Vanitas at all and wants nothing to do with him, this draws Vanitas to him because he enjoys bothering people who catch his fancy and hate him. Then while his affections are on another, Noe learns more about him and he becomes very attached to Vanitas. Realizing now he has actually made emotional connections, it's clear that Vanitas is now afraid and is pushing them away. There's a push and pull here, and I'm both apprehensive and excited to see where their journey takes them. Even though we know it's going to end badly, based on the first chapter. I'm here for how much Noe has learned about his strange partner, to the point of figuring out a way to speak Vanitas' love language. Also, they both have no flipping clue what Love is, and the entire scene that unfolds during is gold. Vanitas is the kind of character who has never been treated gently by anyone, so I enjoy seeing depictions of him getting that from Noe, because it catches him completely off guard.

4. SidLink (Legend of Zelda) - This one is casual, because I actually have not played Breath of the Wild (I fully intend to though!!) but fandom content of this ship sucked me in. I found one fanfiction that was so incredibly sweet, and fell down a rabbit hole with that writer’s works and have fond memories of reading it. I will definitely have the ship goggles on once I play, I adore Sidon as a character, and I don’t know, giant peppy shark man and tiny human...what is there not to love?

5. SoRiku (Kingdom Hearts) - Another more recent ship, as I was not in the Kingdom Hearts fandom in its heyday. I did not have access to the games, but saw plenty of fandom content of it and honestly, it was always a place of nostalgia even before I watched the Let’s Plays that were online. I’m so glad I did, and many others who adore this ship have laid out all the reasons why better than I could. I just haven’t explored it for myself outside of canon as much as I would like to, but I love it for the same reasons I love the other ships on this list. I guess that says a lot about me because all of these ships but ONE are riddled with Angst. What can I say...I like my Hurt/Comfort fics. I also enjoy seeing them in AUs where they get to live in better timelines. It’s a sort of Catharsis. Now, since the games are still going, where their relationship ends up in canon remains to be seen. I hope it ends well!

And because I like to go ne step further:

6. Natsume x Tanuma (Natsume Yuujin Chou) - It’s so stinking sweet and I’m so soft for it! This series is actually my favorite, and I have revisited so many times for the atmosphere and combination of supernatural horror and slice of life. Natsume lives between worlds, he did not make connections with people because he faced ridicule and was unwanted (he scared people) and he hated Yokai because they interfered with his daily life to the point he did not fit in with humans. He could not share what he saw and suffered. As the series goes on he is able to make connections with both human and Yokai and one of the first people he opened up to about seeing them was Tanuma. Tanuma has some level of spiritual power that allows him to see phantom shadows, so his awareness of Yokai is such that he immediately accepts Natsume and wants to help him. He’s pushing through that wall Natsume has spent most of his life building. Even though he can’t see them and may put himself in danger, he wants to be there for his friend. They share secret knowing glances and smiles, and gradually Natsume is more and more accepting of his help, and opening up to him. Such as being able to admit he can’t see the fireworks at the festival because a giant yokai is in the way, and Tanuma smiles and offers to find a new viewing spot. This series is in a Shojo magazine and the manga-ka chose to make her protagonist male so that she wouldn’t be forced to write a romance. As a result, the girls he interacts with are friendly, but definitely don’t have a lot of romantic potential. Natsume is still way closer to Tanuma than anyone else, even with Taki hanging around. I feel like he and Taki have a friendship, but it ends there as she had never suffered the hardship the boys have. She’s just more likely to team up with Tanuma as a Protection Squad to intervene in the dangers Natsume faces.

#Grey rambles #ships

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sullivanmatthew · 1 year

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GET TO KNOW THE MUSE

Name: Matthew Sullivan

Species: Witch

Nickname(s): Matt

Age: 24

Date of Birth: May 22, 1998

Place of Birth: Bethesda, Maryland

Race / Ethnicity: Caucasian

Gender: Cis Male

Secondary Gender: Alpha

Pronouns: He/Him

Job: Sex Shop Owner

FAMILY

Sire: Jonathan Sullivan

Dame: Moira Livion

Siblings: none

Mate: none

Children: none

Pets: none

APPEARANCE

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 172

Build: Muscular - Athletic

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Brown

Tattoos: Sleeves on both arms

Piercings: Both Ears

Clothing style - Styled Thrifted Clothes, Athletic Wear

Distinguishing Features: A notch on his left eyebrow

PERSONALITY

Positive Traits: Ambitious & Dedicated

Negative Traits: Indulgent & Sleazy

Hobbies & Interests: Woodworking, Camping, Soccer, Cars

NSFW

Position: Vers Top

Kinks: Recording & Toys. (There's obviously more)

Anti-Kinks: Scat, Vore, Gore

Safeword: Soliloquy

Dick Size: 9.6"

BIOGRAPHY

Pretending to have a normal life despite being a witch with a long standing lineage would be counterintuitive, but that was the life that Matthew was born into. There was nothing spectacular about his childhood, or at least, nothing that would differentiate him from anyone else. He had two loving parents, the white picket fences, and his friends from school and the neighborhood. Nothing seemed to be out of place, he was just a regular kid with a regular life. But things began to change when he turned ten and he simply told his mother that he had a really bad nightmare the previous night.

Matthew didn’t reveal what his dream was about but he can already tell that his mother was more worried about this than he was. Despite her concern, she still asked him to tell him what he saw. “It was really dark,” the kid would begin, almost losing whatever fear he had over the dream as he continued on. “And there were these large, clawed hands in front of me. I tried running away but they just followed me until I stopped. That’s when they asked me to take one of their hands.” His mother was drained, running her hand through her hair in disbelief of everything that was being told to her, and wishing this was her own nightmare but she eventually asked him if he did, in which Matthew nodded. Her head hung low before she eventually cupped her face in her hands. There was nothing said, but his father walking towards his mother broke the silence.

After what felt like forever, his mother finally told Matthew that she was a witch, his father a human, and that she hoped Matthew would be too. She was from a long standing coven that was connected to the old gods. Their practices have been passed down for countless generations, and it was a rule that they never become involved with a human as they would create an impurity that wouldn’t be able to handle their bloodline. But she had met his father and fell madly in love with him that she was willing to risk everything and leave the coven to be with him. Soon enough, she became pregnant and all she hoped for was that Matthew would become human.

But that wasn’t the case and now she had to race against the clock to rectify her decisions. However, the solution wasn’t any better, Matthew sadly had to leave his old life behind and join a sanctuary far from home that can hopefully help him. It was a confusing journey trying to figure out what was happening, especially with the threat that he could die because of this, which can lead to even more problems. So, adjusting in this new place was hard on him, he didn’t want to make friends with anyone since he thought he was on borrowed month. But one day there became a week, which turned into a month, and after time, he was allowing himself to stop fearing death because he didn’t see anything bad happening to him, in fact he was actually feeling better than he ever has.

Through his stay there, he has learned so much about being a witch, applying himself as much as he could because he wanted to prove his mother’s old coven that he could handle their bloodline. And thanks to some incredible witches who saw beyond old traditions, they figured out that the mix of the human blood and old blood had caused a non-verbal pact with a demon, which was what he saw in his nightmare. Although this was fairly uncommon, what was a rare occurrence was Matthew surviving this power since a lot of children from a relationship between a witch from this coven and humans would have died soon after their agreement. Fortunately, he was one of the handful of witches to handle the ordeal. Matthew didn’t know what, and quite honestly, he was scared to find out further as he felt he would have jinxed himself. So he continued his studies until he could. Or in his case, until he became starved for something more.

When he thought it was time, Matthew packed up a van with what little he had at the Sanctuary, took some friends and decided to travel the country, exploring all that he had missed out on in his time there. It wasn’t easy to say the least, as he tried his best to survive without taking advantage of his magic, but he was soon finding out that he was a very convincing person. Somehow finding places to crash, haggling prices at absurdly low prices, and being able to convince anyone to buy something from him when he was working odd jobs every time he stopped at a new city. The witch was learning more beyond the magic, which he felt was somehow just as powerful as his abilities. And after a few years of living a nomadic life, he stumbled across some other supernaturals who talked about this special town that accepted all. So with that, Matthew decided to drive his way there, and set up shop there. At first he thought it would have been a little silly, but he’s slowly finding out that opening up an Adult Sex Store was actually a good idea.

#matthew sullivan ;; visage #matthew sullivan ;; about #i will be writing posts about his shop and his powers respectively in the future uwu

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newhavenrp · 1 year

Text

Is that GAVIN LEATHERWOOD? No, that’s MATTHEW SULLIVAN. The 24 year old HEREDITARY+BORROWER WITCH ALPHA MALE is the OWNER OF ‘THE RIGHT SPOT’. If you ask their friends, they’re known to be AMBITIOUS & DEDICATED, but beware, they’re also known to be INDULGENT & SLEAZY. Their friends also say that they’re into RECORDING & TOYS but don’t you dare trying SCAT & GORE with them.

#character status: taken #character name: matthew sullivan #second gender: alpha #species: witch

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captainlevisteacup · 3 years

Note

Oooh, an idea has struck. The brothers reacting to Dom Male!MC reuniting with his childhood bestfriend in the Devildom, only their bestfriend is now a high ranking/powerful incubus who has a fuck ton of influence & money. (Not nearly as powerful as any of the brothers or Diavolo, of course, but you get the point)

And while normally a simple childhood friend wouldn’t be enough to bother the brothers, DM!MC’s Femboy CH!Bestfriend is the optimum of gorgeous, with a lithe & toned body and an “innocent” charm to him.

Spoiler Alert, CH!Bestfriend has been in love with DM!MC since they were kids (though it was just puppy love back then) and is determined to never let him get away from him again, resulting in him being extra clingy and needy.

Another Spoiler Alert, DM!MC’s childhood bestfriend may or may not be a mix of a “Worship” & “Self Sacrifice” Yandere.. (Look up “The Dere Types Wiki” if your confused)

You have some very interesting ideas😂 im so sorry this took so long, I didn't want to post it until I was back up to my full working capacity after getting injured and after breaking up with someone😁

Anyways, without further ado, here ya go😘

The Brother's Reactions to M! MC'S Yandere Childhood Incubus! Friend

Warnings: Violence, Language, Blood, VERY SLIGHT sexual themes, some non-consentual touching in Levi's section, brief mention of drugging in Beel's

Lucifer

At first, didn't think twice of MC having a childhood friend

But when he heard the word incubus

He got the smile on his face

You know the one

Lucifer "innocently" is around whenever the incubus is around

Its starts off small

Little poisoned glances from the incubus here and there

But eventually it escalated and turned into him putting a possessive arm around MC's waist

Lucifer snapped

The second the Incubus was alone, Lucifer followed him down an alley

Slammed that fucker against the wall and held him there by the throat

The incubus started laughing, even when Lucifer tightened his grip

"You'll never get rid of me. I have connections to everyone, Fallen Angel. I've loved him since before you even knew he existed, and a prissy peacock like you isnt gonna stop me from making him mine, even if I have to drug and kidnap him"

Lucifer only smiled and released him

The incubus smirked, daintily dusting off his lithe figure

Thinking he won, he shouldered his way past Lucifer

Only to stop short in horror

Deep growls greeted him

Lucifer didn't even bother hiding the screams of the incubus as Cerberus ripped into him

After a while, he signaled Cerberus to stop

As the incubus lies on the ground whimpering, Lucifer calmly says:

"Now that I've shown you just what I'm willing to do to protect MC, I'll make you a deal. MC cares about you, as a FRIEND. But his heart belongs to me and me alone, and mine belongs to him. If you can understand and respect that, I'll allow you near him. But one wrong word, one wrong placement of a hand, and I won't hesitate to finish you off myself. And believe me," he says with a dark chuckle "I won't be as gentle as Cerberus."

Mammon

This man immediately is on high alert

Someone trying to take what's HIS?

The incubus makes him more greedy than ever

Decides not to leave MC's side for a second

Even when he's sleeping

When Mammon can't help the incu-bitch (his nickname for the childhood friend) being around, he acts sort of like a child, which makes him look like a dick in comparison to the incubus's calm and innocent facade

Mammon tries to tell MC there's something up, but he just chalks it up to Mammon being Mammon

One day, MC randomly receives news from the human world that his mother contracted something contagious and was placed in ICU

The incu-bitch was, of course, right there when MC started tearing up, letting him cry into his shoulder

Mammon sees this and starts to protest

This leads MC to snap and tell Mammon he's being a child

Mammon leaves them be and thinks hard

Comes to the conclusion that maybe MC is right, and he begrudgingly decides to apologize to the incubus

As he approaches him, Mammon catches a glimpse of the Incubus's *expensive* phone

Unable to resist, he throws a coin against the wall in the opposite direction.

When he turns to look at the noise, Mammon snatches the phone and yeets off to his room

When he gets there, he opens the phone- no lock- and is startled by what he sees

A fake texting app, along with the messages telling MC his mother was sick

Mammon was about to run to find MC, when he heard a slight chuckle

Looking up, he saw the incubus...holding a knife

"You just couldn't stay away, could you? You've been a pain in the ass ever since I got here. But no matter, once MC sees how *cruel* you are to his defenseless childhood friend, he'll want nothing to do with you. And he'll be mine to fuck and own as I please."

Mammon gritted his teeth and ground out "Making MC think his mother was gravely ill just to get close to him when he's vulnerable? You're disgusting. I actually care about MC, and I respect them more than you ever will."

The incubus snorted, and raised the knife.

"Oi! What do ya think you're doing with that?" Mammon yelled

He raised the knife....and slashed it across his own arm

He then threw the knife towards Mammon, threw himself to the ground, and yelled out in pain

Suddenly, MC burst into the room

Mammon sputtered out a panicked explanation, but MC cut him off with a stare

He kneeled down next to his friend, who reached up with a bloody hand to cup MC'S face

MC put his hand over the incubus's....and sharply bent it backwards

He leaned down and whispered into his ear: "I heard everything, you little shit. Now, get the FUCK out of my house and away from my boyfriend, and don't even THINK of defiling my life with your presence ever again"

After he left, Mammon cautiously said "boyfriend, huh..?"

"Shut up mammon"

Levi

Oh, this won't do

Immediately feels threatened and triggered

He is the avatar of Envy, after all

His response?

Prove to MC nobody can know him as well as he can

He does this every single time the incubus is near

"MC, I got you your favorite drink!"

"MC, I ordered you some food. Don't worry, I already know what you like"

Flinches whenever the incu-bitch touches MC. It literally makes him cringe

His suspicions are confirmed when the incubus shoots Levi a malicious glance next time he touches MC

Levi snaps

Challenges the incubus to a video game duel

He surprisingly accepts

He cheats like hell and beats Levi

Levi goes into his demon form and rages

But MC thinks he's just being a sore loser

He tells Levi to back off and to go cool down

Once Levi storms off, the incu-bitch thanks MC for standing up for him

Then, he promptly tries to make a move on MC

He reaches out a hand to unbutton MC'S shirt

MC slaps his hand away, but not before noticing writing on the Incubus's hand

Before he can pull away, MC snatches his hand and sees cheat codes written on them

Gets super upset and tries to get up to apologize to Levi

The incubus pulls him back down by his wrist and pins them to the couch

"MC, don't you realize? You're all I want, all I need. I WORSHIP you, MC. And you're going to be mine. Nobody else can have you. And you're going to love me, whether you realize it right now or not. You'll learn with time to need me just as desperately as I need you"

Starts to take off MC'S clothes in spite of their fighting and protests, the incubus shushing him

"Shhhh, I know you don't see it, but this will make you see."

Levi slams open the door, tail lashing and face white with rage

"Get your normie hands the fuck off of my human. Now."

The incubus nopes the fuck out. He may be a high ranking incubus, but he still isn't as strong as one of the seven demon brothers.

Levi holds MC tightly as they fumble over an apology

"Shhh MC, its okay. I'm here now. Let's watch some anime and calm down together, yea?"

Satan

Do I even have to explain this one?

Is hostile as soon as MC even MENTIONS a childhood male friend, let alone an INCUBUS

Honestly, the Incubus is a bit scared of Satan

But, he decides he wants MC more than he fears Satan

So, he swallows his fear and patronizes Satan in tiny, unremarkable ways

Ways that would only be noticed by Satan

A stray hand here and there that lingers a LITTLE too long

Wiping a crumb from MC'S lips during a meal

Tucking a stray hair behind MC'S ear

Every last one of these actions makes his blood boil

It gets so bad that Satan is just in a perpetual state of rage, never leaving his demon form

Satan starts passive aggressively insulting the incubus's intelligence

"Oh, you mean you don't know how disestablishmentarianism impacted the overall congruence of Midwest society? Thats odd, its fairly simple. Practically common sense."

Is shocked when MC got livid at him, because he was being condescending for seemingly no reason

Starts to get angry at MC

"Can't you see? He's trying to turn you against me. Just LISTEN, DAMNIT!" He says as he grabs MC'S shoulders

The incubus barges in and shoves Satan away from MC

"Are you ok, MC? Did he hurt you?"

The amount of white hot rage in the room was tangible

He can't do it anymore

Slams the incubus against the wall

Knocks him to the ground

But when he falls down

A bunch of photos fall out of his jacket

Not normal photos

Horrifying ones

One of MC while he showers

One of MC sleeping

One of MC changing

Even one of MC and Satan having a steamy moment

MC goes still...and then SLAPS the shit out of the incubus.

He wordlessly turns to Satan, eyes pleading

"It would be my pleasure, MC" *evil grin*

Cue Satan dragging the incubus off by his hair

Asmo

P A S S I V E A G R E S S I V E

He sees this lovely incubus with NEARLY perfect hair, a lithe and toned body, and a seemingly innocent attitude, and he just wants him gone

He's been with plenty of Incubi, so he knows what they're like

Because of this, he doesn't want this one anywhere NEAR his darling MC

Comes up with a plan to use all his fashion design connections to outdress the incubus

He knows they're vain by nature, so he comes to the conclusion that this is the best course of action

But there's a problem

"Is that a statement piece from Priya Lacroix? She hasn't even released her collection yet"

Asmo.exe is not responding

He knows that HE is the only one Priya would ever give an early release to

So why does THE INCUBUS have her statement piece?

And WHERE is his phone?

Complains to MC, but MC doesn't take him seriously because he's too busy catching up with his friend

Asmo gets jealous and storms off to do a stress relieving skin routine

As MC and the incubus hang out, the incubus's phone goes off

Only...the ringtone is sinful indulgence

Mammon storms into the room

"AHA! I FOUND YA ASMO, YOU ANNOYING LITTLE- huh?"

"I/N? Why do you have Asmo's phone?"

"MC, you have to understand, I just want you to realize I'm the only right one for you. You NEED to realize you can't be with anyone else. Because you're mine, MC. You always have been."

Screeching could be heard in the distance, then footsteps quickly getting closer and closer

"THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY" Asmo yells as he slams open the door

"As if MC would choose a crusty, obsessive, STEALING, lying, probably STD having Incubus like you over me! Now give me my phone back and get out of here. And while you're at it, take off that Priya piece. There's a reason I'm the only one allowed early access."

Beel

Honestly doesn't think that much of it at first

He thinks its nice MC reunited with one of his childhood friends, and an Incubus at that

But when he meets the friend, something just feels off

He gets a weird sensation, and its not hunger

Its like his senses are on red alert

The incubus was nice enough to Beel, seemingly charming and genuine

But Beel couldn't help but feel rubbed the wrong way, with a sensation similar to seaweed against legs in the ocean

He doesn't want to mention this to MC, because he's convinced he's just overreacting

He feels a little sad that MC is too busy for him, but he does his best to give them time together

One night, he had made some food in the kitchen and decided to bring MC and I/N some

When he neared the door, he almost dropped the plate

He heard a loud thud, and MC saying "Hey, I said no, okay?"

He gently opened the door and looked at MC, who immediately forced a smile to his face

"Hey MC, I brought you guys some food. Is everything ok?"

"Thanks Beel, that's sweet of you. Everything's fine, I promise"

Beel relaxed a bit, although he still knew something was off.

The incubus excused himself to use the restroom, encouraging MC to eat without him

Beel and MC sat down, and Beel scarfed down his portion

Chuckling, MC offered his plate to Beel, who gladly accepted

The incubus opened the door shortly after with an expectant look on his face, as well as rope and a gag in his hands

Upon laying eyes on MC, a shocked expression came onto his face as his eyes darted between MC and the empty plate

"How are you still conscious?" He blurted

Confusion flashed across MC'S face. "What do you mean, I/N?"

"You drugged it, didn't you?" Beel spoke up.

"I thought it tasted odd," Beel continued "but I never would have guessed you would actually drug MC. I'm guessing you couldn't handle that MC rejected your advances, so you drugged the food while MC was distracted talking to me. Am I right?"

The incubus chuckled. "Guess I was wrong about you. You are more of a threat than you seem. Heh, I guess you're not just a talking stomach after all."

A loud smack could be heard shortly thereafter.

But the devastating blow didn't come from Beel

It came from an enraged MC

"Trying to drug me I could keep my cool over. If thats all you did I would have just told you to stay the hell away from me. But the SECOND you spoke to Beel like that, you signed your own death warrant."

Before he could react, MC summoned the brothers one by one, Beel explaining the situation.

"Well, MC, perfect timing as always. I was just beginning to get bored" Satan drawled

*screams*

Belphie

It takes a yandere to know one

Belphie doesn't want to alarm MC though, so he decides to outmaneuver the incubus without him noticing

It starts small, with I/N reaching out to put an arm over MC'S shoulder, and Belphie's arm already being there

Eventually, they start glaring daggers at each other the second MC looks away

After a while, Belphie decides to up the ante

Religiously falls asleep on MC when I/N is trying to spend time with him

Goads the incubus so much that he corners Belphie when he snaps and can't take any more

"Listen, I know exactly what you're doing. But if you think that YOU can take him away from me, you're sorely mistaken. MC is mine whether he likes it or not. And if it turns out to be the latter, well, let's just say he won't have much of a choice in the matter, nor will you have any control over it. Got that?"

Belphie does the one thing he knows will get the outcome he had painstakingly built up to the past couple weeks: he laughs

"Ah, you have a good sense of humor, know that? Funny stuff. All kidding aside, MC already belongs to me. So your child's play isn't gonna cut it. Got THAT?"

With a choked cry of fury, the incubus pulls out a knife and stabs Belphie

Belphie, having planned this, falls to the floor just as the door opens to reveal a shocked MC.

"BELPHIE! Shit, please be okay! What the FUCK is wrong with you, I/N?"

The stunned Incubus could only stammer out a couple words

"I- he...was gonna...tried to take what was mine. Tried to take you..."

MC laughed bitterly and shoved him to the floor.

"I don't know what sick world you're living in, but I belong to Belphie. I love him. And I hate YOU. Now I'll leave you be so you can deal with THAT. Ta ta." He says as he scoops up Belphie and heads out the door

"Deal with what?" I/N nervously asks after him, backing up warily

The incubus stops when his back hits something hard.

Gulping, he looks up...

"Hello, I/N, I'm Beel."

"Nice to...meet you? I imagine you're one of the brothers?" He replies shakily

Beel smiles. The light doesn't reach his eyes.

"Yes, I'm one of the brothers. You see, I'm Belphie's twin."

Across the house, Belphie smiles at the faint screams, MC curled up next to him after patching him up.

He succeeded in protecting what was his. He deserves a good nap. Holding MC tighter, he goes back to sleep.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #beel obey me #leviathanobeyme #lucifer obey me #mammon obey me #yandere #yandere belphie #asmo obey me #obey me asks

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poptod · 3 years

Note

hey there ☺ do you think you can write a soulmate au with ahk where you hear each other's thoughts? and ahk thought he didn't have one all these years only to hear you while he's at the museum and then you try to find each other?

notes: wonderful idea. also i noticed my method of doing requests is do it almost immediately after i get it or wait four months before i get it done so sorry about that, but i hope you enjoy this!

WC: 1.5k +

There are many versions of yourself, all talking over one another in an attempt to control your mind for once. Sometimes it's hard to decipher if your actions are the result of someone in your head tugging you in a different direction. There is the person you believe yourself to be––what you imagine you come off to people as. There is also the person you truly are, and what people actually perceive you to be. So despite there being several voices, they are all reiterations of yourself in some way.

Except for one.

One of them speaks in a voice that is not your own, in a voice you've never heard anywhere but echoing in your skull. Since you despised asking questions as a child, it took you until you were twelve to realize that no, you weren't insane. It was someone who would love you, who had the potential to grow close to you simply by the strings of fate. Your soulmate.

Someone who gave you nightmares for years.

'Get me out of here!' He would scream, sending your heart pounding while you tried to sleep as a child. 'Please, please, I need to see the stars,' he sobbed, 'I did nothing to deserve this!'

Once you grew old enough to deal with the screaming beyond what you thought was a schizophrenia disorder, nighttime brought a deep sadness to you. For some reason, your soulmate would never think during the day––which was incredibly odd––and during the night, the only time he was awake, he would scream and beg and cry until you could feel the hoarseness in your own throat. For your entire childhood, you stared up at your ceiling at night, eyes burning as you tried to calm the screaming.

It was all you could think about, as though the screams had muted your connection to him and strengthened his connection to you. Every now and then you would try to think, try to calm him down, but he never quite heard.

Then, one evening in winter, it stopped.

You were lying in bed, rolled onto your side as you once again listened to the man's yelling thoughts. But then he stopped, and both your hearts skipped a beat, followed by an incredibly clear thought: Thank the Gods, blessed Ra and Khonsu.

That evening you darted out of bed, jumping to your desk where you typed in with slamming, lightning-fast fingers, "khonsu." Ra you already knew––everyone knew Ra, and by connection Khonsu would probably also be a God. The only question you were left with was why you were hearing the thoughts of someone who worshipped Egyptian gods two thousand years after that civilization died.

As you continued your research, his thoughts continued.

They took my tablet?

Who are these people?

This man has no idea what he's doing, does he?

Why is he screaming at the Hun?

He's got my tablet.

About halfway into the night you gave up on your research, instead listening intently to the thoughts. With you entirely absorbed in your soulmates thoughts, you had little room to send your own words to him, which unbeknownst to you, would've reached him if you tried.

You weren't quite sure what to think of him for the following couple weeks. At first your assumption was that he was the insane one projecting his insane thoughts to you, but his quieter thoughts led you to believe there was something different in him. It is true what they say––geniuses are often tortured minds, and though you wouldn't classify your soulmate as a genius, he was clearly a knowledgeable philosopher of sorts.

He thought often of the human condition––the rise and fall of civilizations, the cruelty and the mercy of men that began the stories of bloodstained battlefields. Most of the time you just listened. Now that he wasn't screaming, his voice was soft and more of a comfort than you ever thought it would be.

Sometimes he got very sad. After a while you learned to not question the logic of his thoughts. Instead, you simply tried to understand what he meant, accepting him for where he was in his life.

I miss my brother.

I wonder what happened to my best friend.

I didn't think I would ever be this far from the Nile and the sun.

I abandoned my people, didn't I?

If only I could find where my sister was buried. Would that even make me feel better, though? What closure will I gain from seeing her tomb?

... if she even had one.

There's a melody going on in his head, right now. Something that could put you to sleep if you weren't currently working. It's nothing you've heard before, that you're certain of, and judging by the tone of it and your soulmate's previous thoughts, it sounds Egyptian.

Despite the museum being closed, most of the lights are still on. One of the night guards had a very strange insistence about it, but wouldn't tell you why. Oh well––questioning people is above your paygrade, since you aren't getting paid for this. It is volunteer work. Not that you mind; ever since realizing the voice in your head was Egyptian, you've gotten a palate for history. Currently, however, you're dealing less with history and more with files. The curator at this museum asked you to sort through the records of all the different exhibits that are here, or were once here at some point, which made a very large collection. Massive, actually––you're only sorting through A, and it's going to take you a couple weeks.

He's humming softly to himself. The tune carries into your work, and you allow yourself to enjoy his voice as you sort, going over every record to look for exhibits no longer displayed. For this you have a chart in your other hand––a log of all the exhibits currently public in the museum.

Although you're supposed to be concentrated on your sorting, you find yourself more entranced with the melody in your head, and the clearest thought that rings in your mind is, 'that is beautiful.'

The humming stops. Dead in its' tracks, about to reach its' peak, and it stops.

'My mother sang it to me,' he says, 'before I slept as a child.'

"Holy shit, are you talking to me?" You say out loud with bulging eyes before you can stop yourself. The moment you realize what you said, a bright blush coats your cheeks and you slap your hand over your mouth. But he doesn't seem to mind––actually, he laughs, and it's sweeter than summer sugar.

'You must be my heart,' he says in an astounded tone, and you can practically see his dream-filled eyes. You sit puzzled for a second before replying.

"Do you mean your soulmate?"

'Well... I suppose yes, that could be one of the names,' he says, and it only adds more onto the lists of questions you have for him.

"What is your name?" You ask first, hardly realizing you're still talking aloud to yourself.

'My name is Ahkmenrah," he tells you, and it takes less than a millisecond before the dots connect in your head. Instantly your eyes dart to the sheet in your hand, and near the top of the list, there it sits––Ahkmenrah.

'I know this must be confusing for you,' he continues, 'but I am from another time. While I lived then, I dreaded that I didn't have a heart, as I heard no voice. That fear has carried on into my next life, but now that you're here –'

"Oh I'm here alright," you say, unbelieving of both your circumstances and your unblinking acceptance at them. "I'm, like, two floors below you."

"WHAT?!"

A voice from above catches you, but as the same word rings in your mind, you realize with great glee that he instinctively yelled 'what' without thinking. You laugh, and the thought of your laughter reaches him.

Less than a minute later you can hear footsteps pounding down the stairs, landing at the closed door before the handle wrenches open. You quickly move to your feet, facing the man whose voice you know so well, who haunted your childhood and enchanted your adulthood. You can barely hide the grin that spreads across your face––whatever magic has brought you to this moment, you thank everything you can for it, your attention ensnared by the soft features of a 4,000 year old Pharaoh.

He pauses once he enters the archive, eyes finding yours immediately. His mouth hangs open slightly as he scans you, absorbs every feature on your body and face, and barely moves even to breathe for a good minute or two.

"I – I'm sorry, I j – I just realized I didn't ask your name," he says quietly, a small, ginger smile growing on his lips.

"(Y/N)," you say, but you don't quite know how your brain worked to make the word. You certainly didn't consciously choose to speak.

"I have waited thousands of years for you," he says, impossibly softer as he steps forward. He's really quite harmless, you realize––for all the fear you had of him as a child, he's nothing but a sweet-faced boy.

"Was it worth it?" You ask, and your voice cracks ever so slightly.

"My heart," he breathes out, affection lacing his name for you, "it was worth every second."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek

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nocek · 3 years

Note

Don't spare us the long rant! We want to hear your thoughts!

Oh you are going to regret this ;P

So here goes my loooooooong angry rant about Taskmaster and also the Black Widow movie in general.

Let's start with my point of comparison. Captain America the Winter Soldier was a good movie. It's still in my top 3 Marvel movies as I'm sure is for many people. And statistically speaking everybody likes Bucky. He is like the most beloved side character right after Loki. I guess.

Anyway. My point is that Taskmaster and Winter Soldier have bit for bit the exact same building blocks: hypercompetent antagonist that is a serious threat to our hero who just can't win with in one on one combat. But then plot twist: our antagonist was just a victim and puppet without free will in hands of actual villain who is bland bureaucrat.

So why did Winter Soldier worked really really well and Taskmaster was just ehh.. ok?

Well the short answer is that catws was a much tighter movie that had clearer goal (and also that goal/theme was singular: good things get corrupted with time and sometimes you get to start over) compared to black widow which had to jump through too many hoops and still somehow managed it but it wasn't as graceful as it would be if they (as in executives) resigned from one or two hoops and flips and explosions.

And I'm omitting a BIG disadvantage of making a prequel movie about a character that they killed off in shitty way. Though that created one of extra hoops for them to jump through: quickly build up Yelena as a character.

And character build they did. Because srsly Yelena is awesome and I love her. BUT. That came at a price.

Lets compare to catws. The new character there is Sam (and kiiiiiiiinda also Natasha a bit but that's a topic for a different rant) who is nowhere near as well build as Yelena. At the beginning. Because he had time to be fleshed out and naturally grow in few different movies and then we got a deep dive in the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

But Marvel can't give Yelena few movies because she will appear in Hawkguy an Hawkeye series and also Marvel is generally dividing their assets into: outer spaaaace, down to earth heros and magic stuff (aliens, androids and wizards ;P). But also they can only create so many things in a year.

So yeah. Yelena offtopic can be summarized that I love that we have her as we have her but it came at a cost of air time of the movie.

So comparing the movies again:

Catws had the theme of good things being corrupted with time. And the theme was underlined 3 times through Peggy, Bucky and then Shield/Hydra. Which are interconnected and also make nice scale from inner conflict of the main character to the outer conflict of the movie.

In Black Widow there is the topic of the past evil that never went away and is still taking away free will from people. And again we have it shown through 3 outlets: Yelena, Taskmaster and Black Widows. But there is also whole family subplot attached to Yelena and there is Red Room attached to Black Widows. So as you can see things are getting crowded. Which in turn make the theme a bit blurry.

I mean, sure, the Red Room should be the Shield equivalent. Even it could take smaller space because good Shield turns out to be evil Hydra is generally more time consuming to explain than Red Room bad. But still combining Red Room and Black Widows make things a bit crowded.

(There is a reason why the surprise subplot of there is more Winter Soldiers was in separate movie and was kinda handwaved and cut to minimum. But they couldn't do that here).

But it's time to stop my ranting about whole Black Widow movie and focus on comparing Taskmaster and Winter Soldier.

Because to be honest both are bare bones of character and more of an carte blanche in the movie. Both have barely any screen time yet there are colossal difference which stems out of:

first introduction: as I mentioned they are hypercompetent and unstoppable threat that you can't win with, you can only hope to run away (both done equally well)

programmable killing machine:

For Taskmaster we just get a scene with her watching other heroes fighting at the screen. For the sake of building up the mystery of character we think that "he" is just watching. Maybe learning or more likely just being creepy. The information about the chip and literal programming is given to us much later in the movie which makes this scene lose the power. idk how it will work on rewatch? Maybe better? Hopefully. right now there is too many new movies in cinemas to go for a rewatch and disney+ still isn't available here -.-

For Bucky we have literal torture scene. You just can't be more blunt than that. It also hammered the next point in.

there is human behind the mask:

Winter Soldier is introduced with full face mask which he gradually loses and then we have the big reveal of not only: that's a human but also that's a human our main hero cares about deeply.

With Taskmaster they fucked up it for chap plot twist. We are learning quite late that oh snap that's Antonia (that we don't really care about) and our main hero kinda feels guilty about her.

I think the big difference is what kind of character Steve and Nat are and also the way they reveal this secret. Steve actively recognizes Bucky by himself and is very openly shocked. Nat is passively told and shown that hey, this is Antonia. And there is no time in the movie for Nat (and for us) to be shocked because that's the 3rd act and we need time for explosions and stuff.

Besides, the problem is that all the big plot twist reveals are boring on rewatch (stil big props for Pacific Rim and giving us the monster reveal in like second minute of the movie, I will never not appreciate that).

Also on related shitty note. We the audience. Bucky is handsome and vulnerable and we can drool all over him (and oh man, we the fandom did a fair share of drooling). Antonia is disfigured and not sexualized in any way. Which I'm actually grateful for but there is no pretending that doesn't make a hell lot of difference. But that's a whole different, ugly and big topic I'm not remotely qualified to write about. I'm just angry ranting here.

they don't have free will:

For Winter Soldier we have amnesia + torture tropes which to be honest have been done over and over again and it shouldn't have worked as well as it worked. Bit it did. In context of Black Widow movie it worked because it was just one guy that actively broke through brainwashing with active help of the hero.

In Black Widow there is a lot of characters that are pasively "woken up" out of mind control over and over again by active protagonist. Unfortunately the repetition kinda cheapens it. Especially in comparison to main gut punch right in the feels scene in the other movie. Which is why it's not fair to compare the two.

So lets talk about lack of free will aspect itself. To be honest the mind control aspect in Black Widow was done really great from story perspective. Evil scientists perfected it to the point it being (bit handwavey but) completely impersonal but also completely dehumanizing to the subject. So I'm buying that it can be completely switched off in equally efficient and impersonal way. Even the way they explained it with Alexei the pig was great and terrifying... to a point. Because then kicked the main problem with this movie. Clearly some execs came and saw it and went whoa... that's too dark for pg13 blockbuster. Let's put some cheap jokes here. And it happens over and over again in this movie :S

humanizing flashback scene that ties them to main hero:

For Bucky, sure we had Captain America First Avenger but a movie needs to stand on it's own legs. That's why we have the flashback scene which shows us that Bucky cared about Steve. Leaving it at the narration in Smithsonian of "best friends since childhood" would be just telling us. And we needed to be shown and we needed a space for the "till the end of line" so it could come back and stab us right in the feels.

Also because we are ignoring previous movie Russos cleverly made us care about Winter Soldier because Steve cares about Winter Soldier. And we already know and like Steve so building up our main character gives us more mileage out of new bare bones character (because let's be honest, Winter Soldier is just that). Two birds one stone thing.

In Black Widow there is no such thing which IMHO is the main reason Taskmaster doesn't work. We just get information about cardboard cutout: insert cute little girl here (only told, not even shown actual cardboard) and all of the emotional connection to Natasha is: I know that my boss that I hate has a daughter, she got in the crossfire. Which means nobody cares.

All it would take is adding a short flashback scene. idk Dreykov is an asshole and doesn't care about Antonia but she is she cutest and most adorable little girl. She treats the Black Widows as older sisters. Hell if you want to make it more horrorish copy of the idea of Thor wanting to be a Valkyrie when he grows up or T'challa wanting to be a Dora Milaje. Little Antonia wants to be Black Widow when she grows up because they are badass and they are nice to her (and are also slightly confused by her) because she is nice to them and is only person that treats them as humans. Hell we could have short interaction between her and Nat. Just a smile between them would be enough.

You could get a lot of character buildup mileage out of such a short scene.

But it couldn't happen partially because the movie didn't have time for that but we didn't get that mostly because it would show us instead of telling that Nat killed a cute little innocent girl for her own personal gain. (well she thought she was destroying Red Room but mostly wanted to get away - vide she didn't check on Yelena or other widows. But I wouldn't hold that against her. It was put your oxygen mask first kind of situation. But still it would make her look bad)

Besides, that would take guts to actually show.

And technically they could have afforded to have that guts. That was last movie with Nat anyway. It would actually make this plotline about her feeling guilty about Dreykov's daughter and red in her ledger work. But well... It was last movie so they wanted to leave us with the most goodest and bleeding hartest and heartwarming mary sue version of Nat with just telling us without showing hey, she got dark past.

On the other hand if we had the rumored Endgame plotline of Nat running an orphanage. Damn that would tie to this plotline so well. We could tie the loose widows also. Dam we were robbed here I tell ya >.<

Ok I'm overdoing offtopic about Nat. Sorry

design

So yeah. Design wise Winter Soldier is like great. For Taskmaster, she sure looks cool but also kinda generic? If in 10 years you'd show me her and say it's antagonist from GI Joe or something I'll believe you :S (not touching the debate that in comics something something because unfortunately I don't know Taskmaster from comics. Although I hear that few recent ones were quite good so I'll check them out sooner or later)

snapping out of mind control

I mentioned before. It would be unfair and there is no point comparing main emotional scene of the movie versus means to an end that were repeated several times through a movie.

Natasha freeing Antonia even if she thought that Antonia will kill her because that would fair was great. What I'm annoyed is a cheap fakeout that went with that. It was just after the bombastic finale with explosions and all the cgi shit. Even without looking at the movie runtime it was obvious there will be no extra fight scene.

In catws it worked because the cgi pew pew extravaganza was a background noise and was part of a continuous fight. In BW helicarriers fell already, there was a second of dust settling and then Nat throws away the shield (uses that capsule). Tension just fell from highest place in a movie (quite literally lol), trying to rise it again for such a short moment just doesn't work.

But that's the general problem with Marvel movies. Bombastic CGI fest as grand finale that probably is "outsourced" and then actual director comes back and needs to end movie super quickly.

disappearing act at the end

So in catws there is mystery of what will Bucky do. We are given some hope since he dragged Steve out of river and visited the museum but thats all. I mean there is this annoying Marvel thing of skipping over the interesting ending of last movie and starting with next plot point. We were hoping for the grand roadtrip/hunt for Bucky but nope. We must run ahead with all the plotlines (same way I'm sure that the Spiderman is Peter Parker and he killed a guy thing will be already dealt with in the beginning of the next movie -.-) But that's bonus mini rant.

In BW they needed to wrap up to many plot lines too quickly so Antonia wakes up and that's all. We don't get a suggestion what she may do. The problem of the chip she still has installed is omitted. There is nothing. She just fucks off to lalaland with other Black Widows the end. Because we needed ending for Nat's actual family which was ok but also kinda rushed.

As I mentioned waaaay before (god, this rant is pretty long) too many hoops to jump through.

Which really sucks because if they added that one flashback scene just for Antonia and spared few more minutes for the overall ending it would work so much more better.

And I even know where they could have saved few minutes (besides the explosions thingies). The supply guy. One extra character in a movie with too many characters. In catws the supply problem (with wings) was solved with nbd shrug. If you wanted to show that Nat has her own web of contacts it should be more than one guy. IDK in Budapest there could be 10 second scene with neighbor saying hi nice to see you again we reinforced the walls after last time. In Norway we could see her visiting some special secret supply stash run by some rando before getting to the mobile home.

But oh she was on the run so that would be too many people. Then cut the people entirely. The shitty helicopter can be worked around with joke that I'm not on speaking terms with Stark rn and that's the best we can have on short notice.

Eh.. side rant again. Sorry.

So to wrap it up. I actually really would love to see what will happen with the loose Black Widows and Antonia because here they were really underdeveloped. And while widows were more of a group hero and we have Yelena as a representative so in a way it balances out but Taskmaster needed so little extra care to make her character so much better and I'm a tiiiiiiny bit salty about it.

#text post #long post #very long rant #black widow #black widow spoilers #black widow movie #black widow 2021 #taskmaster #antonia dreykov #i kinda doubt we will see her again #but one can hope #if anyone actually read through all of this congratz!#and thank you #let me hug you #(and I'm sorry it's so long)

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disco-tea · 3 years

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Something I’m super curious about is Five’s personality and it’s development. I love current Five’s personality but clearly he couldn’t have consistently had this attitude since he landed in the apocalypse.

Like I know he had Delores but obviously he was sweet on her in his time in the apocalypse. So that reemergence in the roots of his abrasive childhood personality had to have really been perfected while at the commission. The commission where he also had the chance to gain a more deadly edge that affected his overall current attitude, alongside the focus on stopping the apocalypse he developed in those long decades.

I think it’s just super interesting to think about Five’s in between period of readjusting to socialization, before he’s settled into the comfortable hyper focused and almost manic state we know him as. A period where he had to have been getting used to talking with other people and dealing with them not being on the same page or being threats to his goal. A large shift from Delores I’m sure. (Sorry for the long rant but just wanted to hear your thoughts on the concept!)

Oh wow. Honestly Five’s personality is super interesting. There are so many layers and I think it’s apart of what makes him such an interesting character that so many people love.

For me, personally, I feel like at his core he is inherently a caring person capable of great amounts of love. But (much like Diego) his circumstances and interactions throughout his life have forced him to adopt a much more abrasive and defensive attitude. I think what we see of him as a kid is...well, a kid who is still very much developing and is just not in a good environment. He’s snippy, he’s brash, he’s still growing and learning and trying to figure himself out but he’s in this harsh atmosphere where there isn’t room for weakness or trial and error. He’s probably used to being yelled at and belittled and neglected and abused. (I mean seriously, how much negative behavior do you think the siblings learned straight from Reginald?) He’s severely lacking in warmth and love and support. So like...I can definitely see him being that way. That’s gotta be confusing for any 13 year old, especially one that deep down probably just wants to be loved.

Then there’s apocalypse Five...I feel like he’s just a MESS. There’s so much grief and trauma there. Such a desperation for human connection. I feel like he would be so desperate and in pain that a lot of his usual defense mechanisms would sort of take a backseat for a while. Just thinking about what it would’ve looked like if he had gotten back or been rescued while he was still in his teens...I think he still would’ve been very broken and just a huge wreck. I feel like there were probably moments where that side of him would come back a bit, like maybe when he was seriously struggling and starving and maybe he’d snap at Delores only to apologize profusely afterward and beg her not to leave him too.

Then on to the commission, it was probably incredibly jarring. To go from no human contact to suddenly being forced into yet another harsh and quite honestly insane environment filled to the brim with killers...oh and by the way you have to be a killer now too. I think...I don’t think Five felt a lot of relief when he got to the commission. I think it was better than the alternative and he saw it as his only chance to get back home. But I think it was very difficult and painful and he was very aware that they were all threats too (who would kill him if he ever stopped being useful) and he should never let his guard drop. That’s probably why he worked alone, not only because he didn’t trust them but also because he was so used to it by then. In my mind, I think he got there and clammed up and fell back on his old defense mechanisms, only now twisted by all those years of isolation and pain. I think he relearned what he needed to to get by but never really learned much more about socializing than what he knew at 13. And that’s the personality we’ve seen him settle into at the start of the series. He’s running on old software, he never got the update and there might also be a few bugs in the system.

He had never been in an environment where he could actually grow for any extended period of time. I do think he’s grown since then though. His siblings haven’t always reacted very well to his personality, but I think we’ve seen him open up a bit. Get more comfortable with the people he actually cares about and trusts. He’s tried to share, tried to ask for help. He’s apologized and listened and is just trying really hard. I really hope we see more of that and just get to see him finally grow and develop as a person.

#thank you for the ask #ask box #five hargreeves #umbrella academy #character analysis #personality analysis

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crimsonkenjii-writes · 3 years

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Hi :DD can i request a giyuu x childhood friend reader? Where they met during the final selection and reunite when she became the lightning pillar? The lightning pillar headcannons made me melt 👌👌😭 i loved it alot and i thought the idea would be cute, don't need to do it tho if you want to ofc :D thankiess 💙

Hello!! Thank you for the request and thank you so much for liking those headcannons!! 🥺 Of course I’ll write it ^^

Here’s the Fem!Lightning Pillar headcannons

Giyuu Tomioka x Fem!Lightning Pillar

Synopsis: You and Giyuu had met when you were doing the final selection and became friends with him. However, life made you drift apart and you both became pillars just to meet one another again.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　♡　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You panted heavily as you ran through thick fog and towering trees. Your hand griping firmly around the hilt of your nichirin blade. Your eyes were darting from every direction, waiting for another demon to pop out of nowhere and take a slash at you. There was rustling ahead of you and prepared your blade. You brought both your hand to your blade handle and lifted your arms to swing when-

‘Shit, it’s a slayer!’

A small boy with long black hair and a red haori looked at you frightened as you had your blade lifted, ready to slice him down. You couldn’t stop yourself, you had already charged and you couldn’t stop now. In a flash, another boy appears out of seemingly nowhere and connects your two swords, pushing you away with his strength.

You went skidding to the side and almost tumbled over. You were too much in a panic of almost slicing another slayer to process the boy’s strength. After you got your grounding, you quickly jog to the two boys, “I’m so sorry! The fog was so thick and I thought it was a demon! Please excuse my incompetence!” You bowed low to the two boys just to hear one of them scoff.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be a slayer if you cannot tell the difference between human and demon.” The boy with pinkish hair spat.

You cocked a brow at the boy and thought to yourself ‘what’s with this kid??’ You opened your mouth to argue before the boy with black hair interrupted, “It-it’s fine, Sabito. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

“Tch, fine. Just as long as she learns her lesson.”

You raised your brow at the pink haired boy with squared patterned haori again. You then noticed that the both of them had fox masks on.

“Oh? What are those. They look very nice. Whoever made them must be really good at woodcarving.”

“It’s a warding mask,” replied the pink haired boy, “to help keep evil spirits and demons away. The craftsmanship is very good. Urokodaki Sensei is very talented and taught us all we know.”

“And you two are?”

“I’m Sabito and this here is Giyuu...”

“Ah, hello Sabito, Giyuu. I’m Y/N,” you bow once again and they do the same, greeting you. “Let’s just forget that incident. I’m sorry, Giyuu.” You smile at him and he timidly tells you it was alright and that they’ll look past it now.

You tagged along with the two for a couple a days. You were very surprised by how strong Sabito was. He was saving everyone and no demon was too strong for him. It was amazing watching him. Giyuu was strong as well but Sabito kept outshining him.

One day, a demon attacked the three of you and you ended up getting separated from the two and finished the rest of Final Slection on your own. Once you reached the wisteria section of the mountain to claim your ore and uniform, you were too out of it from injuries and exhaustion that you didn’t see Sabito or Giyuu again. You figured they’d both be alright though.

━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━

Years had passed and you had become stronger. You accomplished Total Concentration Breathing Constant and slayed a number of demons. You quickly climbed the ranks as you went on more mission and killed more demons. Eventually you were finally able to slay one of the Twelve Kizuki and was given the message to join the Hashiras.

You were pretty banged up from the demon and met Shinobu before any of the other Pillars. She tended your wounds and gave you medicated water to ease your pain before guiding you to Master Ubuyashiki’s garden where everyone else had been waiting.

You felt very nervous to see such a range of people. Two of them were very, very tall and stood in the way of seeing some of the other pillars.

They were all greeting you and asking you a ton of questions. Many of them were very proud to see another slayer defeat a Twelve Kizuki and join them in the ranks. Eventually, Master Ubuyashiki made his appearance and everyone got in line to kneel to him. You did the same until he called you up front to introduce you to everyone. You were finally able to see all of the pillars now that everyone was in line. You scan through until you see a familiar face, farthest away and the end of the line.

You eyes widen after seeing a familiar red haori with raven, black hair sat on top and ocean blue eyes staring right back at you. ‘I can’t believe it,’ you thought to yourself, ‘It’s Giyuu! I thought I’d never see him again!’ You were ecstatic to talk to him again but had to wait until Ubuyashiki had dismissed everyone first.

The meeting finally came to an end and you made a beeline to Giyuu, ignoring all the other pillars who wanted to ask further questions.

“Giyuu?! Is that you? It’s me! Y/N! We were in final selection together! Gods, I can’t believe it! I thought I’d never see you again!” He’d grown a lot since you last saw him. His hair was longer, his jaw was more defined and you now had to look up to meet his eyes. Dare you say he looked more handsome.

“Y-Y/N, Its been so long.” Giyuu stuttered out, completely flustered. He could feel his cheeks burning the more he spoke with you. You hadn’t grown much in height but your body filled out more and your hair had gotten a bit longer as well. He was nervous to say that you were making his heart flutter again.

“Don’t be so shy, give me a hug!! I can’t belive you’re a Hashira, how did that even happen?” You continued on as you outstretched your arms to pull Giyuu in. He was very stiff and awkward but couldn’t resist embracing you after thinking you’ve been dead for years. He was completely wrong. You were strong, so strong in fact that you managed to take out one of the Twelve Kizuki and became a Pillar. For some strange reason, he felt so proud of you despite not seeing you for so long.

All the other Pillars just stared in disbelief and confusion. Who where you? How did you know Tomioka? How did you get him to talk? How the heck did you get him to hug you?! And how were you making him so flustered?!?! He’s stoic!!

After pulling away from the hug, you opened your mouth to ask about Sabito when you noticed the other half of his haori. Your eyes softened and touched the yellow and green patterns, you heart sinking a little. You bring your eyes back to Giyuu’s, “Did... did Sabito... not... not make it...?” You ask him sadly, tears threatening to swell your eyes. Giyuu’s eye become very sad as he looks to the side and just simply shakes his head.

“I’m so sorry, Giyuu... he was a very good man. I’m sure he’ll be reincarnated, his heart was very kind and pure.”

The other Pillars finally interrupted and started bombarding you with more questions and you spent some time talking with all of them and keeping Giyuu close to you since he kept trying to leave. You still wanted to talk with him afterwards.

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━

“Ugh, what a relief!” You let out as you stretch your arms upwards, “I thought they’d never stop asking questions.”

You and Giyuu were walking side by side and leaving Ubuyashiki’s garden.

You excitedly turn to Giyuu, you eyes sparkling as you made contact with his deep, ocean blue ones, “We have so much to catch up on! Tell me, Giyuu, what Pillar are you?”

The both of you spoke all night and caught eachother up on a lot of things. You talked a bit more than Giyuu did of course, but he still replied and shared enough of his thoughts to not make it seem like you were talking to a brick wall.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━

━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Giyuu was so relieved to see that you were okay. He knows he didn’t know you a lot but there was just something so magnetizing about you when you first met. He couldn’t help but feel so interested in you. You’d occasionally come across his mind the years you weren’t there and he would just wonder what you were up to. Pessimism would often creep in and make him think that you might already be dead. He tried his best to shake those thoughts but there was a high chance of that being the reality. Being a slayer never guaranteed a safe future.

It turns out all those pessimistic thoughts were wrong and now here you were, reunited with him. He couldn’t understand why he was so overjoyed to see you again. His heart pounded a bit more around you now than it did years ago. It confused him how you made his thoughts hazy and his temperature rise. But most importantly, he was just so relieved that you were still alive. And to top it all off, you became a Hashira. I mean, a Hashira! The new Lighting Pillar! It made him feel so proud of you. He couldn’t believe you were that strong. Not that he ever doubted you, he just feared that since he enjoyed your presence that you’d be doomed to die too soon.

But now you’re here, stronger than he could have ever imagined, and he was not going to let you leave his side ever again.

#sorry this took so long it takes me a while to write scenarios #I hope you still enjoy it though and that it was worth the wait :)#demon slayer #kny #tomioka giyuu #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #tomioka giyuu x reader #giyuu x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

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Yo I love your take on yandere's and was wondering if I could get some parental yandere kurama for a reader who is his jiinchuriki (not entirely sure how to spell that lol). Thank you in advanced :D

I never expected that people would have so much interest in Kurama. I have another request about him in my ask box as well. Makes me kind of excited💗.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, overprotective behavior

s/o is Kurama’s jinchuuriki

🟧Kurama might come over as a very rough and hateful guy whenever he’s sealed away in someone. He hates it that everyone thinks that he has to be sealed away in order to be controlled. They want to control him, see him as a monster, think they can just do whatever they want with him. And he despises them for that.

🟧He was used that every host of him just saw him as a beast and that it was their job to keep him under control, for as long as they lived locked away inside of them. They were all the same, they all told him that it was their job to keep him on the short lash. It was always the same story, the same words.

🟧So he was surprised by you. Because you were somewhat different. You never despised him what was a shock for him. Why didn’t you hate him? He was the reason why everyone avoided you, the reason why people kept talking behind your back, the reason why you were lonely since your earliest childhood days. Whilst other children your age kept playing with their friends, all you could do was watching from a distance. And as soon as you stepped too close they instantly took a few scared steps back, quickly running away and yelling at you that you weren’t allowed to play with them.

🟧You had no one except the Hokage supporting you. You were a loner, had no one to talk to. But you had a lot of things on your mind. So one day it just happened. You started talking to him, to the fox spirit sealed away inside of you. Not gonna lie, Kurama was at first annoyed by this, but also confused. Couldn’t you shut up? You didn’t, you never did, often even breaking out in tears and...seeking comfort in him...

🟧It was a new situation for Kurama. He had never experienced that his jinchuriki would beg him for a few nicely spoken words and comfort. You did know that he was the reason why you were suffering in the first place, didn’t you? He wasn’t the best in comforting and at the beginning he just told you rudely to stop wailing like a goddamn baby. It annoyed him. But he couldn’t stop you.

🟧So he was forced to listen to your stories everyday, you sometimes just crying over things or rambling excited when you had learned a new jutsu or seen something amazing. And you never seemed to mind that he didn’t answer nor looked like he listened. You just wanted someone who wouldn’t run away from you so you had at least the feeling that you weren’t alone.

🟧Listening to you talking like a waterfall everyday led to some sort of connection between the two of you. By now Kurama wasn’t even that angry by all your speeches anymore, he just listened somewhat annoyed and tired, but he didn’t feel like wanting to claw at you to make you shut up anymore.

🟧But what really threw him off-guard was that on one day you thanked him. You thanked him for always being there for you, for always listening to you, you thanked him for being your friend. And Kurama couldn’t even process your words at first. You saw him...as a friend? After all the shit you had gone three because of him?

🟧And that was the first time he ever talked to you, asking you if you had lost your mind. How could you call him your friend? Were you stupid? He would never see you as a friend. You were just another one of those damn humans who he was locked into. Nothing special for him. You should hate him too before you would fall out of your emotions. But you didn’t want to. You told him you would rather be the dumb idiot who saw this as a one-sided friendship than being completely alone. It hurt to be alone. And he was the only one who had always been with you and would always be with you. The only one who let you talk to him. That’s why you saw him as your friend. And you left Kurama dumbfounded, not knowing if you were either really stupid or just really hopeful.

🟧Your kindness was something he had never experienced before. You called him a friend. Him! And even to people who were mean to you, you were always kind. It annoyed him, the way you stubbornly refused to hate anyone and instead kept pushing yourself. It was annoying, yet he found himself impressed by how strong you were to not completely crack. You weren’t immune against their comments, he knew the best whenever you cried yourself out on him. But you possessed the ability to quickly forget and try again.

🟧At one point he suddenly started thinking that you weren’t the worst one to be sealed inside and the first time he caught himself thinking that he was hella irritated. What was he even thinking?! He should hate you like everyone else! It was your fault in the first place...Actually it wasn’t. You hadn’t had much of a choice either when you had been chosen as the next jinchuuriki. It had been forced into you, a burden too heavy to carry for a child to carry. And you had suffered as well, hated and isolated by everyone. And you had still the power to call him your friend.

🟧The moment he started suddenly responding to you when you were one day talking to him was the day you had a huge smile on your face, one that made a certain warmth spread in his heart. It was a sincere smile, not one of those half-forced ones whenever someone insulted you or played a prank on you. It made him realize how rare it was for you to be really happy. And that made him almost mad. Mad at everyone for treating you so badly.

🟧A certain attachment was very soon formed towards you, Kurama starting to look forward to the daily talk you both had. It made him realize how lonely he had been as well before meeting you. He was fairly amused whenever you talked so fast and excitedly that you stumbled over your own words and was pissed off whenever you started crying because of someone. That was the bad part. He saw everything. From the way people ignored you, insulted you and pushed you around and making fun of you. It made him seething and you could clearly feel his rage bubbling inside of you.

🟧He was left clueless how you never found it in your heart to resent someone for longer than a day. If he would have been you, he would have tried to kill all of them long ago. But he wasn’t you. You had different plans. You wanted to prove everyone that you weren’t a monster just as much as you wanted to prove that Kurama wasn’t either. You wanted to achieve that by becoming the strongest shinobi in the village and protecting it. You wanted to show that you weren’t ashamed of being a jinchuuriki and wanted everyone to see that Kurama’s powers weren’t evil. No, they would protect them to the point where everyone would rely on you and him and see you two as protectors and not destroyers.

🟧Sometimes Kurama wants to destroy everyone who hurts and disrespects you, especially if you cry afterwards. But he knows that if he would do that it would only prove all those bullies right that you are a monster and that’s something he doesn’t want. He wants you to be able to look them someday, after you’ve celebrated as a hero in this village, laugh at them and spit those bastards/bitches in the face, knowing that you proved them all wrong. Another thing that keeps him from doing so are your sharp warnings whenever you sense his anger and lecture him a bit about it. Every other person would be dead if they would do that, but you’re the only exception.

🟧He’ll lend you his chakra whenever you need it without wanting anything specific in return. He only wants you to keep coming to him and talking to him about your worries. Kurama will teach you a bit himself whenever you need help and with his help and chakra you’ll get powerful in no time.

🟧Everyone better stays away from his pup, doesn’t matter if they’re bullies or crushes. I can see Kurama as a shotgun parent, meaning that every potential partner will have no chance with him. Not only hates he the thought of you having someone besides him in your life, it is egotistical, but he can’t help it, but also because everyone used to despise you and now that you’re suddenly so strong and powerful everyone seems to want to be your friend. That leaves a salty taste in his mouth, knowing that everyone wants to be suddenly with you because you’re strong.

🟧Good chance that later on, after you’ve become respected by your village and feared by other villages, someday be nominated as the next Hokage because you’re the most obvious choice. You’re respected, beloved and more than capable of defending your village. And that would be the day where Kurama might just cry when seeing that you’ve grown all up. It makes him sentimental to see how you’ve went from a tiny little pup to a responsible and strong ninja who even has the honor of being announced as the next Hokage. He’ll still be very overprotective, no chance he’ll ever stop being. But he would also be very proud of you, knowing that you proved everyone wrong.

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere kyuubi #yandere kurama

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gaycrouton · 3 years

Text

Fox Mulder’s Senior Thesis

Scully reads Mulder's thesis to get even since he read hers, but she wasn't expecting just how much autobiographical insight she would gain into her new partner.

5k - MSR

Ao3 Link Here

Scully felt the indignant burn of embarrassment on her cheeks every time she thought about those words coming out of Mulder's mouth. "Einstein's Twin Paradox, A New Interpretation. Dana Scully Senior Thesis. Now that's a credential, rewriting Einstein." Worst of all, he said he'd actually read it. She didn't know him well enough to be able to tell if he truly liked it, but regardless, the fact he'd looked at it embarrassed her. She was a certified medical doctor, she'd written plenty of articles she was genuinely proud of over the years, yet Mulder had chosen to read her undergraduate thesis from the University of Maryland. She was only 22 when she wrote it, and she was pretty sure coffee and sleep deprivation contributed more to the final product than she did.

When she got home after that first day of work, the words still danced around her head "I read it. I liked it." Out of curiosity, she went through some old boxes to find a copy she knew she'd hidden away with a bunch of other college knicknacks, and just as she'd expected, it was full of errors and the misplaced arrogance of youth. The knowledge that Mulder had read it and formed an impression of her based on these old musings made her uncomfortable, and an irrational part of her wished she could go back in time and make it better.

It wasn't like it was an invasion of privacy, but to read her writing from years ago felt like a level of intimacy she wasn't ready to share with a near-stranger.

It had been a few months since he'd mentioned it, and they'd been working together just fine, but the thought that he'd seen this small side of her, Dana-the-co-ed who wanted to impress her professor so badly that she tried to rewrite Einstein, nagged at the back of her mind. Did he read her vulnerability, the way her words begged for her professor's praise? Could he read the pride she'd felt at the time for having taken on something so advantageous? Did he ever consider how forward that was, how off-putting to have one's thesis dug up from the grave?

But she knew that was exactly why he'd done it. Mulder wanted to make her uncomfortable. Not her exactly, but the new partner assigned to invade his space. She wasn't the profiler, but she knew he did it as a defense mechanism. Mulder had done it in front of her a few times now: if he acted as spooky as people thought he was, they would make fun of the caricature of himself he was playing, not the real, vulnerable Mulder.

Scully wondered if the thesis had any part in endearing herself to him, or did he look at it through a lens of judgement, finding every flaw and analyzing what he'd use to tease the new partner coming down to see him.

"I read it. I liked it."

It was one of the many times she'd started to spiral while thinking of how he thought of her. The spirals were usually brought upon anytime he ditched her during a case or when he investigated something on his own. A nagging feeling would grow in her abdomen that asked "Why doesn't he trust me fully?" And she would think back to that embarrassing insight he had into her. A few times she considered sending some of her other work, some of what she was more proud of to him, before ultimately realizing that he'd probably seen the titles and gone with the one that intrigued him most. The one he was probably most ready to laugh at, her brain would supplement.

Then she decided it would only be fair to read his.

She'd read his monograph on serial killers and the occult as part of her profiling training at the academy, but she knew there was probably an embarrassing thesis floating out there somewhere.

After the seed of an idea was planted in her mind, the roots started to overgrow all rational thought. She was fueled by a curiosity of what Oxford educated psychologist Fox Mulder sounded like in his early twenties. He was a bit arrogant now, though it wasn't repulsive in him like she found that quality to be in most men, but arrogant nonetheless. She could only imagine what a 22 year-old version of him sounded like.

Scully wondered what that must've been like, what the look on his advisor's face was when he inevitably postulated some intergalactic theory. Or did he choose a more mammalian creature to examine? Perhaps little grey men were too extreme, and he scaled it back to the cultural differences between Bigfoot, the chupacabra, and a yeti.

Luckily for her, she had a friend in the archival department who was able to locate his thesis for her with the payment of a coffee. It was dropped on her desk in an inconspicuous manila envelope, and she was able to sneak it into her purse before Mulder had a chance to notice.

Scully waited until she was home before tearing into it. It was about 60-pages, a nice length for a bachelor's thesis. She'd prepared for the event with a glass of wine and some snacks. A highlighter and some pencils were scattered around her in preparation for her night of learning more about her enigmatic partner. Despite the frivolity of it, she felt her heart thrumming in her chest, excited to meet this Mulder even if she intended to make jokes at his expense tomorrow to his older self.

She smiled to herself as she tried to have a last minute guess at what phenomena he'd focus on before a gasp tore from her lips at the reality.

Shared Grief and Repression: An examination of the psychological long-term impact of parental invalidation regarding familial trauma on childhood development

Fox Mulder - Senior Thesis

Oxford University

May 15th, 1983

Scully felt numb with the implications of this, but she couldn't help her curiosity. She read the entire thing in one night, unable to put it down. She barely knew Mulder well enough to distinguish if there was an autobiographical hurt child ghost-writing these hypotheses or if it was mere speculation, Mulder being desperate to understand himself. For all she knew this could have been a result of Mulder assisting a professor in their own research, the ties to his own past merely coincidental. Somewhere in her soul, she knew that despite her hesitance to admit it, she'd just learned far more about Mulder through this than he had learned about her through her nonsensical ramblings about Einstein.

What she did know, unquestionably, was that she would never tell him. That night she placed his thesis on top of hers, and hid their past selves in a box deep in her closet. She couldn't bring herself to throw his words out, so she would just have to live with them.

She didn't have Mulder's eidetic memory, but lines of his thesis stood out to her with the same clarity in which he'd recited hers. She never called upon them, they just came like a bolt of lightning that left a charred mark in its wake. It was as if she was the scientist observing if his hypotheses were true while Mulder acted as the living case study.

1993

"Adults who lacked comfort in their youth are prone to seek human connection out through other, non-conventional means, (Jenkins, 1945)."

While part of her acknowledged this was Mulder's office, the other part of her knew this was also the official office of the X-Files, of which she was an equal part. She hadn't felt this way since the last time she moved into one of her boyfriend's apartments. A few sweaters left in the closet, food in the fridge that was only for her, messages for her left on the answering machine - things that accumulated slowly until she decided it would be stupid to re-sign the lease at her own place.

That was effectively what she'd done here. She noticed that two women from the financial crimes unit were being forced to share a space, and, being she couldn't remember the last time she was in her own office, she decided to give it to one of them. Now, despite the fact Mulder was the only name on a placard outside and she was still trying to elbow space for herself on the other side of his desk, this was her office now too.

The space heater at their feet was hers, she'd brought a plant that was thriving in the annex of the office, she'd even managed to put a TV Guide clipping about Alf amongst all his other ones to see how long it would take him to notice. Even though those small things made her feel more 'at home,' she still wanted to claim a little more space for herself.

One day she decided to arrive before him, a box of her office supplies in hand, and take over one of the drawers of his desk. Just one - for now.

Scully plopped down in his chair, amazed at how much larger the indent he'd created was than her diminutive frame. With a sigh, she decided he'd probably be less inclined to be irritated if she took one of the bottom drawers. Pulling one out, she had to suppress a gasp of surprise.

She'd caught him reading nudie mags before, claiming they were for the abduction stories in the feedback sections, but this was… a lot.

Snowed in! Plowed out!

Shared Space (And a tight one at that!)

Years of Waiting, Big Explosion!

The titles made her grimace, but they weren't as bad as some she'd seen in her brothers' room growing up. The VHS tapes were lined up in the drawer in alphabetic order and their neon titles stuck out brightly to her. Pausing to listen for the sound of the elevator, she grabbed the one labeled Years of Waiting.

The summary on the back alluded to a couple who'd been in love for years finally consummating their shared attraction. It was surprisingly less crude than she'd anticipated. She picked up the one with space in the title and saw it was about two friends who had to share a room together while on vacation, and after a while, they can't keep their hands off each other.

She felt a furrow in her brow in confusion. These tapes all had similar descriptions to the dimestore paperback romance novels she'd buy from time to time. It seemed the story was just as important as the sex itself. One of them even had a cover of two people cupping the other's face as they leaned in for a kiss. Of course, the photo on the back was a naked sexual position that made her back hurt, but it overall wasn't as crude as she'd anticipated.

Mulder was into softcore, oddly sweet pornography?

She wasn't quite sure what to do with that information before she heard a ding come from down the hall. Scully quickly stuffed the VHS in her hands back in the drawer without looking, and instead moved to the bottom drawer on the other side of the desk. She was relieved to see it was some of his spare clothes and she dumped them on his desk before relocating her stuff into the drawer.

1994

"Children mimic what they see demonstrated in front of them (Smith, 1975). When a traumatic event occurs and parents cope without any outward displays of emotion, the child learns the expectation is that emotions are hidden. A potential development due to this is that the child understands how negatively invalidation felt, so they try to overcompensate when offering comfort to others, appearing unrelenting in their efforts to provide the comfort as the act itself is a comfort for them as well."

She stood there sobbing into his arms until she felt numb, soothed by the way his hands rubbed circles into her back as he whispered "You're alright. You're alright," into her hair, as if to assure himself as much as her.

The flash and subsequent whir of a crime scene camera made her jump and Mulder tightened his grip on her. "Can we have a minute?" he snapped, his voice coming out so harsh and stern compared to how he'd just talked to her.

She turned her head and saw they were in a room with at least ten other law enforcement officers - all with varying levels of pitiful expressions on their faces as they couldn't help but look at the embracing FBI agents.

Embarrassment flooded her and she withdrew her arms from around Mulder, bringing them together near her abdomen as she tried to take a step away. Mulder looked down at her in worry, cupping the side of her head with his hand. "Scully, don't push yourself," he lamented.

Scully shook her head and brought her hands shakily to the back of her neck, suddenly feeling choked by the table runner that had been used as a gag.

"Ma'am, we need to take a picture before yo-."

"I think we have enough evidence, don't you?" Mulder snapped, stepping forward in front of her like he was about to fight anyone who so much as looked at her.

She felt the crime scene analyst take a step away as they apologized to Mulder, but Scully was too busy fumbling with the tie at the back of her neck. She was starting to feel like she couldn't breathe and she was worried she was somehow tightening it. "Mulder?" she gasped.

Scully instantaneously felt his hands cover hers as he deftly untied the fabric, throwing it on the ground before brushing her hair back to make sure she was okay. "Breathe," he whispered, pulling her back to him so he could rub her shoulders.

"I'm fine," she whispered, her eyes focusing on the portrait of a Pfaster that was hung on the wall next to them.

Mulder stepped in front of it, replacing her line of vision with himself instead. "Please don't shut me out, Scully," he pleaded, his brows furrowed in concern. Mulder had comforted her a few times before in the past, but usually it was just a word or two of affirmation. Right now, he felt like he was the sole thing keeping her from drowning.

She glanced around and met the eyes of several people who instinctively looked away. "What do you need, Scully?" he prompted.

Scully looked back at him and noticed that he looked like he was going to combust if he couldn't do something to help her. She could pretend she didn't want his help tomorrow, for tonight, she'd allow them this symbiotic comfort. "I need to leave," she whispered.

"Will you let me take you to the hospital?" he asked.

She nodded once in response and that was all he needed. Without conferring with anyone else, he wrapped his arm around her and took her away from this nightmare.

1995

"Parents in these situations often do not realize the damage they are causing, nor are they actively trying to cause harm. Familial trauma effects all involved and, more often than not, the inattentiveness to the child's feelings is a result of parents being unable to handle their own."

Scully thought when she finally met Teena Mulder that a vital piece to the Mulder-puzzle would fall into place. She'd imagined a witch of a woman devoid of smile lines and with a tongue that could cut like a razor. The jagged-edged puzzle piece that would shift and create the perfect match to the soft edges of her partner who carried a burden from childhood that drove his every move.

Instead, she was met with a rosy cheeked woman who looked at her son's grave like she was contemplating if there was room for two.

It wasn't the piece she anticipated, but the puzzle shifted into place nonetheless, and she saw why Mulder could never admonish his parents while Scully had held so much resentment. Mulder was the sweetest man she knew. He could never find a place in his heart to resent a childless mother, even if she did have a child right next to her waiting to be loved.

Scully couldn't imagine the pain of losing a child, but she could empathize with this woman's pain at losing Mulder, even if only temporarily. Deciding it would be appropriate to go and talk to Mrs. Mulder now that the service was over, she steeled herself to tell the woman a sentiment she must have wanted to hear for decades.

"Your child is still alive."

Just not the one she was used to mourning.

1996

"Some children deal with internalized guilt because of the event. If parents or healthcare professionals neglect to discuss the event candidly to the child, this can cause them to believe they have done something wrong and that is the cause of the omission. When a memory of the event is triggered and the subject is reminded of the event, this can send them into a depressive state because of their guilt."

Mulder was contemplating dealing with Roche. She knew it without him telling her, not that he was saying much of anything in the first place. He hadn't been himself since this all started. No - he was being himself, and that's what was so painful about this all. Scully could see the guilt written all over his face, a guilt and a sense of responsibility so strong that her normally affable, goofy partner who always had something to say was resorting to one word responses and pensive stares. She was seeing the twelve year old little boy who blamed himself for his sister's disappearance, and it took everything in her not to bring him into her arms and tell him it wasn't his fault.

She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to erase the look on his face when he dug into the dirt of the forest with his bare hands, the desperation in his voice when he said "Help me, Scully." She was still deeply touched that when he was faced with the potential of finally finding his sister, he asked for her help. It sounded animalistic coming from his mouth, like his very soul was begging her. It felt like such a private moment, she was certain this was a part of Mulder he never showed anyone.

Finding out the truth about Samantha was the core being of his mission, his life's work, and being this close to the potential truth had left him bare like exposed nerves so oversensitized that he was numb. She'd never seen him so withdrawn and it killed her.

After they met with Roche and he'd teased Mulder, yet again, she drove him home. As grateful as she was he'd accepted, she was worried that he hadn't even refused in the first place.

"Mulder?" she tried, looking at him as they hit another red light.

He was staring at the dashboard as if the answers to his problems would manifest in front of him. Mulder didn't seem to hear her, so she tried again. "Mulder?"

"Hmm?" he hummed in response. If she hadn't heard it, she wouldn't have believed the sound even came from him as he didn't even slightly move. It was like a Mulder deep inside this shell answered, though his mouth couldn't form the words.

She put her hand on his shoulder, her thumb touching the exposed skin of his neck. He blinked and she took that as him acknowledging her. "Mulder, I'm worried about you," she whispered.

He finally turned to look at her and she saw exhaustion painting his features. "I have to know, Scully," he sighed, looking through her.

"He's using you, Mulder," she lamented, desperate to appeal to the part of him that begged for her help in the woods. The part that knew she was there for him, even if that meant telling him what he didn't want to hear.

Mulder shrugged lightly before turning to look ahead. "Probably," he sighed, resigned. He sounded used to this, used to being disheartened.

"I-" she started before a car honked behind her, making her hand shoot back to the wheel. They were only a block from his place, and he was getting out of the car before she had a chance to try talking to him again.

"Do you want me to come up with you?" she offered, reaching for her seatbelt.

He shook his head as he put his hand on the frame of the door. "I just need to think," he murmured, his eyes refusing to meet hers.

"Please, try to get some sleep, Mulder," she pleaded, only for the words to reach the interior of a closed car door.

1997

"Adults who have gone through this experience may find forming attachments difficult. It is not that they are emotionally stunted, but they've been primed through the childhood trauma to question if showing their authentic emotions is appropriate or not since they never received emotional validation. This desire to appear stoic is a defense mechanism that may seem like callousness, indifference, or flippancy in those around them. Because of this, when they do form bonds, they may be perceived as overbearing or clingy to the person they are close to."

She awoke to the sight of her own vigil taking place.

At first the only thing she was able to piece together was that the top of her hand was warm and wet. Then she smelled Mulder's hair and realized he was crying against her hand. For a moment she almost considered turning her hand so that her palm could press against his cheek - anything to comfort the man mourning the loss of his best friend.

"I'm still here," she wanted to say, but her throat clenched and her eyes burned as Mulder's choked sobs reiterated what they both knew: "For now."

She knew she meant a lot to him, but she never imagined herself being the person he bowed his head to in silent prayer.

1998

"These children may exhibit a pattern into adulthood of accepting behaviors and attitudes that others would refuse to put up with. As they are less likely to have positive self-worth, they may see themselves as deserving treatment that reaffirms these negative ideologies of self."

Mulder smirked. Fowley said they were allowed to investigate the X-Files as an indulgence, making Mulder seem like a child being pacified to keep busy to a room full of their peers, but since she said she held interest in his work, he smirked.

Now Mulder was talking to Skinner in his office while everyone else was told to step out into the hall. Most people in the room were content with going on a small walk, stretching their legs, but two people were left in the anteroom of the office poised in an awkward stand-off as they waited for Mulder to emerge.

His partner and his chickadee.

Scully sucked on her top teeth in annoyance as she glanced at Diana, watching as the woman appeared unfazed at the situation. Scully wished Arlene was here - anything to distract from the metronome of her aggravation.

Indulgence.

Chickadee.

Indulgence.

Chickadee.

The Gunmen hadn't explained why they broke up, seemingly shocked they did in the first place, and somewhere deep in Scully's soul she knew it was Diana's doing.

Was that why Mulder acted like that around her? Desperate to get some sort of validation, despite the fact this woman seemed to treat him poorly. Protectiveness flared up in Scully's chest and it threatened to choke her. At least, she wanted to blame it all on protectiveness. Acknowledging the part of herself that felt the bitter sting of indignation as she was condemned for wanting to make sure they were taken seriously while Fowley got a smirk for belittling their work.

"Things got a little heated in there. Didn't they?" Fowley called out, her voice sounding calm and collected as ever.

"I'd say so," Scully bit in response, sounding quite the opposite.

The door swung open and Mulder stepped out, looking around the room at the two women before telling Agent Fowley that Skinner was calling the Attorney General now.

Another smirk.

1999

"Because of childhood trauma, it may be harder for these individuals to let people in. They may be honest about their trauma, but when it comes to letting people see the intimate details of their life, they might be shrouded in mystery (Evans, 1969). Traumatized individuals will only share personal information with people they believe will not hurt them."

The young boy had to go home after thirty minutes of loading balls for them to hit, but Mulder didn't seem to be ready to call it quits yet - and, to be honest, neither was she. It was so rare that they got to spend time together that didn't involve a case. Even rarer was time spent together with so much levity.

Mulder paid the boy some extra money before picking up two mitts that were lying by the machine. "Here," he yelled before throwing one to her.

She caught the worn leather in both hands with a laugh that caused Mulder to smile. "What're we doing?" she asked, instinctively putting her hand in the oversized glove.

"Ever play catch, Scully," he replied, throwing a ball at her.

"I was never invited," she called out, shifting her feet against the sand underneath her to feel how it shifted. "You're my first."

"Mm," he hummed lewdly, causing her to blush at the way she phrased that.

"Underhand can be easier for amateurs," he replied before throwing the ball at her lightly from a few yards away.

Scully caught the ball in the mitt, smiling when he praised her. Then, mimicking him, she threw it overhand to him.

Mulder lifted his arm and caught it with a small jump. He looked at her with raised brows and a boyish grin that made the sensations she'd felt with him behind her stir back up in her abdomen. "You husslin' me, Scully?" he replied, tossing the ball at her with a little more speed.

She caught it with ease and shrugged. "What can I say? I learned from the best," she teased before throwing it back.

Teased. Scully didn't do that often, but she was starting to think maybe she should based on the way his lips curved up shyly. He'd been teasing and gently flirting with her since she met him. She was starting to see the appeal.

"I hope I didn't ruin any evening plans," he replied, throwing it at her.

It was always expected for Mulder to make himself sound like an inconvenience. Even after she just spent thirty minutes giggling in his arms and 'accidentally' moving her body against him in ways that she was sure to revisit when her hand was in her underwear, he still managed to convince himself he was a burden.

"I haven't had fun like this in a long time," she replied, bending to catch a lowball. "Besides, you let me listen to my music on the last road trip even though you didn't like it just because you wanted to hear what I like. I like learning what you like too," she replied sweetly, throwing it back to him with more speed.

Mulder smiled, playing with the ball in his hand before joking, "I just think Alanis Morissette needs to date better guys."

"Like you?" She didn't say it outloud, but she thought it. She jumped to catch a high ball he threw at her, causing him to burst out laughing.

"I'm serious though, Mulder. I like learning more about you," she replied.

Mulder ran to the side a bit to catch the toss before smiling shyly. "I want to learn more about you too."

She caught his next throw as she contemplated her next words. Deciding to take a page out of his book and be bold tonight, she asked, "I think… I think it would be fun if we spent more time together. Maybe we could have movie nights at each other's place or something?"

A smile erupted on Mulder's face before the ball hit him square in the nose - too distracted to catch what she'd hurled at him.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry," she chuckled sympathetically, running over to him and putting her gloved hand on his shoulder.

"I'd love that," he replied, his nose as pink as his cheeks.

2000

"It is not until the individual manages to come to terms with the familial trauma that healing may take place."

She never imagined what she might feel like in this moment because she never thought it would come. A potential romantic relationship with Mulder seemed like it was slowly migrating from the periphery into the foreground, and she was starting to come to terms with the idea that she may forever share the foreground spot of Mulder's sight with the memory of a little girl.

He said he was free, and he'd never looked more so. She had been worried after Harold Piller took off, but Mulder seemed nonplussed, just staring into the sky as if he was looking at an old friend, a small smile of acknowledgement on his lips. "Are you sure you're okay, Mulder?" she asked, reaching out and entwining her fingers in his.

He turned to her and, to her surprise, placed a kiss to the top of her forehead. She looked up at him with wide eyes and saw he was looking at her in adoration, as if nothing existed in this moment except her.

"Let's go home, Scully," he murmured, brushing a tendril of hair behind her ear.

2000

"Adults dealing with residual trauma crave the emotional validation they did not receive as a child. Words of affirmation, consensual physical touch, and other forms of direct reassurance help the traumatized adult feel more self-assured with how they are being perceived."

This one comes to her, like most of these recollections of his thesis do, in the most random of moments. She was standing in his kitchen, wearing his shirt that acts as a dress on her, while she watched him make breakfast. For background noise, he just pressed play on the VCR and the Caddyshack tape from last night started playing over again. Maybe now she'll find out how it ends.

She'd been so desperate to know more about him during that time years ago when she'd read his thesis, that any line she read seemingly became permanently filed away in the Mulder folder of her brain. So now, as she stood here taking in all the new information about him that she was newly privy to - his inability to whistle despite his valiant efforts, the fact he can crack an egg with one hand despite having seemingly basic culinary skills, how he often takes moments to look at her as if he wants to make sure she's still here - the process of filing away the new information caused that little tidbit from seven years ago to leak out.

Deciding to test 22 year old Mulder's hypothesis, she walked over to him with her bare feet padding along the tiles of his floor, and wrapped her arms around his waist so that her chest was flush to his bare back.

"Is this about to be a culinary version of that scene from Ghost?" he asked, his muscles moving as he flipped a pancake over.

"I like being here," she murmured shyly, her words sounding weird from her cheek being smooshed against his back.

It felt weird, but not horribly so. They didn't communicate verbally all that well, it wasn't their thing, but if little moments like these held a chance of letting Mulder know how she felt, then she could overcome her own hang ups. It was a lot easier than mustering the courage to say the three words they already knew.

She felt Mulder's back twist, as if trying to look at her, before he turned back, likely not wanting to dislodge her. "I-I like you being here too," he stammered. While he also was clearly unused to this type of openness, the upward lilt of his inflection told her she'd made him happy.

She liked it.

Squeezing him once tightly, she added, "I'm glad I get to spend the day with you." They were sentiments so PG and mundane that she'd probably even said them to her mother before, but within this special context of her and Mulder's relationship - it felt like a huge step.

"If I knew making you breakfast would have gotten this reaction I would have done it years ago," he joked, though his words were laden with sincerity. She felt him pause for a moment before timidly moving one hand to rest on top of hers.

She smiled into his back and pressed a gentle kiss against warm flesh as Mulder's own version of those three words wrapped around her heart.

#x files #fanfic #mulder #scully #character study #trauma #angst #fluff #ust to rst #irresistible #blessing way #paper hearts #the end #the unnatural #closure #je souhaite #x files fanfiction

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