#trails of mana

[doodlesdrawingsandtrash]

Been a WHIlE since I drew the good boi and today I was on a Trails of Mana kick so I decided why not see how I improved! I hope whoever sees this has a wonderful day, evening, and night!

#ChaoticNoob #i try #Kevin #kevin is best boy #I’d like to think I’ve improved #the eyes are something new I decided to try #no idea where I got them from but they look okay #Trails of Mana

[talesofmillenia]

#trials of mana #trials of mana crimson wizard #trails of mana

[cwgames]

Prologue Kevin: Kingdom of Ferolia Part 1

I decided to redo pages of me playing Trails of Mana. Starting with Kevin story.

Previous Page/Next Page

#cwgames #trails of mana #seiken densetsu 3 #nintendo #square enix #beastman

[hajidumps]

og!Cale: [barges into Alberus room]

og!Alberu: [drops his teacup] hello

og!Cale: [smells alcohol] what are you drinking?

og!Alberu: tea [sips more]

og!Cale: [squints] what kind?

og!Alberu: teaquilla

#trash of the count's family #incorrect tcf quotes #tcf incorrect quotes #cale henituse #alberu crossman #alver crossman #og!cale henituse #og!alberu crossman #og!alver crossman #tboah #alberu is now an addict for dark mana (he gets it from tasha) #cale knows where alcohol is and will follow that trail #thats how he knows where the ARM bases are (ARM people are alcoholics)

[phanthief]

ok so im debating between three events ill watch now which are the under tides plotline, the rhine lab plotline (bc lone trail is real soon) or the kazimierz plotline

#under tides - i love lumen and the rest of the gang and i want to read it #rhine lab - i love saria and i might want to be up to date for lone trail as mentioned #kazimierz - NTRK theme song made me ill abt her . so #HOWEVER. if i read kazimierz i definitely want to read BTI as well #mana talks

[paladincecil]

Was finally gonna go through the heavensward 24 man raid today but instead I ended up joining a PF to farm the omega mount

Maybe next time Weeping City....maybe next time

#Every single clear of the omega raid was mega sloppy but we got through in the end xD #One day I'll do that 24 man #I also updated my summer time glam with the new shorts from this years event #Not sure if I like the gloves from it better than what I had before but I'm keeping them on for a bit see how I feel #Trails of mana is kinda not keeping my attention that well #Still gonna try and get 1 of the 3 playthroughs done before Tuesday but even then I'm not so sure it'll happen if things don't pick up soon

[dykeaegir]

lrb i was also wondering what ambulation meant cuz i’d never heard it before and it basically means he’s a speedy boy 🥺

#new hc hes that guy in the friend group who walks WAY too fast for anyone else to keep up #(mana voice) no you have to hold my hand or else i’ll be trailing behind you in a heartbeat #🐝 #bear.txt

[shuttershocky]

what's the deal with Noita? it looks interesting but the way people talk about it makes it sound like the grim reaper but for computers

It's a 2d roguelike game where you play as a wizard navigating the inside of a mountain. There are tons of enemies, traps, and other secrets to find, but it's biggest draw is that you can find and modify wands.

Each wand is unique, having a specific number of spell slots, mana regen, firing speed, reload speed, etc. However, where it really gets nuts is that you can take spells out of one wand and put it into the other, combining them for unintended effects. A wand that fires a magic missile is useful in a fight, but moving that magic missile into a wand with a spell that makes you fire spells shotgun style can triple your destructive capability. Add in a modifier that makes your spells leave trails of fire in their wake, and you're the biggest danger to everything in the mountain, including yourself, thanks to how the physics work.

Noita features physics simulation on every pixel. Grass and oil can catch fire, dirt and stone can be blasted away with explosive force, water can put you out if you're on fire and wash away acid, spilling berserk potion on things makes them go berserk.

This physics simulation is how Noita ends up pulling an indie Crysis 1 (both run on a single core!) Create an overloaded wand that affects too many things onscreen at the same time, and you can cause an apocalypse both in-game and on your processor.

[alltheirdamn]

A Bounty for Reward (Mando x f!Reader)

CHAPTER 1

Summary: when you discover a bounty has been put on your head, your future and freedom are on the line. Warnings: mentions of death, drugs, weapons, angst, language (future smut, don't worry) Word Count: 6.5k A/N/: this is my first time dropping any sort of writing into the world, so pls be kind & i hope you'll stick around for the rest of the fic <3

Swiping greased hands over your work smock, you looked towards the horizon to see the Twin Suns dipping below the rolling sand dunes. The work day was over, yet you felt you barely made a dent in the new land speeder your parents had bought. You were accustomed to working with older models of land speeders, preferring the engine types over the newer models. The new models were made for looks rather than efficiency, and you didn’t understand how the citizens of Mos Eisley could afford them.

Composed of a ship hangar and various piles of scrap parts, the junkyard overlooked the southern border of the city, your own home barren and abysmal due to years of decline in business. It was rare your parents got business, and if it was… it usually wasn’t the best clientele. You had your run-ins with smugglers, pirates, and crime bosses, and every time, you worried for your family’s safety. It was only you and your parents, after all— you had no one else to call home.

As you tidied your workbench, stowing away the tools, scrap metals, and loose wires, you heard an unfamiliar buzz of speed bikes approaching the junkyard. It was unusual to get clients this late, let alone any visitors. Your family was nearly invisible to the citygoers, barely knowing one or two vendors on the streets that sold food. 

In a haze of dust and dirt, the men made laps around the junkyard, their voices loud and violent as they called out for your parents. Heart thudding in your throat, you rushed to the small home tucked in the dunes, frantic to find your parents. 

You hadn’t realized your father was already at the front entrance, sniper rifle in his grasp. 

“Kono Halcard!” One of the front men yelled, his speeder coming to a halt in front of your father.

You watched from afar as your father stood tall and strong, his suntanned skin glowing in the golden hour of the falling suns. Time had aged his skin whitened his hair, but he was still a force of nature. He had lived in Tatooine his whole life, as had you, and he was no stranger to the scum that roamed the planet. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted your mother, Mana, peering behind the windows of your home. She was not so much the fighter as your father. 

But you were your father's daughter. 

Grabbing the hidden blade on your work belt, you followed the trail up to the front entrance, watching the wind kick the billows of dust into tornados of sand as the men’s bikes stopped behind their very vocal leader. 

“We want nothing to do with you, Jissard,” your father’s voice was stern. 

Jissard, which you assumed was his last name, was a hateful-looking man. He was human, at least from what you could discern, as he stood several feet taller than your father, wearing a tattered tunic and worn leather coat. Most of his face was covered by a low-brimmed hat, the same color beige as the sand surrounding you, but you could still glimpse his piercing yellow eyes. The look of them alone forced your spine straight, nerves electrifying within every inch of your body. 

The men behind him wore the same type of clothes– all worn, all dirty. It was obvious from the looks of them that they were a band of spice traders, the residual of the drugs lingering on their fingers and skin. They dismounted their speeders, flanking Jissard on either side, their hands resting carefully on their concealed blasters. You shifted your weight, your grip tightening around the handle of your blade. 

“Oh, Kono,” Jissard drawled, a thick accent falling off his tongue. “You’re a few payments behind, aren’t you?”

“I owe you nothing. I paid the Pyke’s back in full nearly three months ago.” Your father straightened his spine; the rifle still lifted at eye level towards the traders. 

“If you had, I wouldn’t be here, my friend,” Jissard grinned, revealing a row of rotting teeth. It was a menacing grin, one meant to elicit fear. 

It didn’t elicit it from your father, but it did from you.

“Ah, and I take it this is your daughter, no?” Jissard continued, glancing in your direction. 

The handle of your blade was cutting into your palm now, your pulse thudding in your ears. You stepped forward, aligning yourself with your father, exchanging a weary glance between one another. He wasn’t shocked you were beside him, but you caught a glimpse of regret in his eyes. A fading sentiment of, I’m sorry, as you gathered the unspoken secrets of your family’s business. You had an inkling that crime would one day touch your family, yet you hadn’t expected it to be already seeping into the foundations around you. How long had your father been mixed up with the Pyke’s? Had this been the reason for the junkyard's business to decline? Either way, you were seeing the truth come to light, but you wouldn’t back away from a fight. 

Not when it came to family. 

“She does not concern you,” he was firm, words gritted through clenched teeth. 

Jissard smiled again, dipping his hat towards you as a gesture of hello. 

“Kesi Jissard,” he smiled, “ I’m a friend of your father's here.”

“I wouldn’t exactly label us friends,” your father sneered. 

He cocked the rifle back, the sound of it echoing around you. He was done playing Kesi’s games, yet Kesi hadn’t had his fill. The men behind him drew their blasters, your father becoming the target for every weapon. You exposed the blade behind your back, a minor threat you knew wouldn’t do much. Kesi noticed the slight reflection of metal in the fading suns, a small smirk pointed in your direction. It made your stomach churn, seeing the way he welcomed the threat. He wasn’t afraid of you, and you had yet to understand why you were so afraid of him.

You just were. 

“I’m not here to collect bodies,” Kesi tossed his attention back to your father, “I would like to settle this as civil as possible. Unless you force my hand, Kono.”

“I don’t think you people know what civil means,” your father bit. 

Kessi stepped forward, cocking his head to the side to gesture his men forward. The look of ‘civility’ shot past his eyes, replaced by something far more menacing. His hand grazed over his own blaster, eyes flickering between you and your father. In the distance, you could hear a familiar voice shouting, this one of your mother.

“Ah, Mana,” Kesi smiled, rotting teeth exposed across dirtied skin, “So kind of you to join us. We were just discussing some matters of business.”

Your mother joined your father, her hands twisting together in an anxious manner. There was an expression of fear on her face…yet she held her breath as if she anticipated the worst.

“We have no business with you traders,” she spewed. 

It was the first time you had ever seen your mother speak in such a violent manner. She was always coolheaded, kind, and extremely closed off to strangers. She made no part of any business deals the junkyard had and kept herself in the shadows where she felt safest. But now, it was your family against him, his men, and ultimately… the Pykes.

Kesi slanted his head to the side, watching your mother and father with silent regard. The men behind him were growing agitated as they swayed from side to side, their weapons still raised towards your parents. The knife you bared down in your grip was feeling all too heavy; the concept of having to defend yourself grew more likely. You silently begged your father just to comply, to give Kesi whatever he wanted, and to move on as usual. If they were to go broke, they would still be alive. 

Maybe. 

“Listen, Kono,” Kesi sighed heavily, tightening the brim of his hat over his eyes, “I don’t like wasting my time. So, either you pay up, or we can take payment in a different form.”

His gaze shot to you, shadowed eyes tracing the outline of your body until your skin crawled from disgust. Every vile and unnameable thing washed over your mind– the countless things he could do to you. You pleaded internally to your father, hoping he would just give in and do as Kesi asked. 

But your father, like you, was stubborn to the end. 

“Fuck you,” your father spat.

Without another word, his gun was aimed at Kesi’s head, the rifle shooting forward yet somehow suspending itself in time. The sequence of events grew hazy as you watched from the ground on which you fell. You didn’t register that your father had pushed you back or that Kesi’s men struck down your mom in several shots; her body lay lifeless on the sands of Tatooine. The sound of your father's cries delayed in your mind as you watched him crumple over, a gaping shot tearing apart his chest. They were gone. Both of them. And you had been too dazed to react, the knife having been lost from your hand in the midst of the attack. 

All you could see were the remnants of your parents in the wreckage of brutality Kesi had left them in. Broken sobs erupted from your chest, screams that did not make it past your lips, and yet the world continued moving. Kesi’s men grabbed you, yanking you to your feet as you struggled to breathe. Your eyes couldn’t tear away from your parents, their eyes staring absently at the sky as it faded to darkness. Everything in your world had gone dark. 

Everything was gone. 

“I guess I’ll settle for you as my payment,” Kesi smirked. 

___________________________________________________

Eyes slamming open, the nightmare jarred you enough to catapult you upwards from your sleeping position. This had been the third night in a row you had dreamt of that night, the third night you were reminded of all you had lost. Rubbing your eyes aggressively, you felt the start of tears pooling over your knuckles as you dug into the skin of your eyelids. Sounds of airspeeders and taxis whizzed by in hushed vibrations, the windows of your hotel room shaking ever so slightly. It wouldn’t be very noticeable to anyone else, but you were acutely aware of every sound around you. You were always holding your breath as if the past lurked in the shadows, waiting for the moment to strike and kill. 

It had been four standard months since you arrived in the lower levels of Coruscant– four months since you had found an escape route from Kesi. It had taken nearly a year to arrange a meticulous plan that stripped you from his grasp, and you had pulled it off. Gathering—stealing—enough credits to buy your way off world, you took refuge in a hidden identity and made a new life in the capital. The hotel room was temporary, at least until you ran out of credits—or luck. But getting credits was easy now that you learned the ways of the underground. Rich men traveled to the lower levels looking for drugs or prostitutes, and you knew the best spots in the city to track them down. Some small talk, maybe a few drinks, and it was easy for you to card your hand into their pockets and stash away credits while they remained distracted. 

Eager to leave the darkness— and the past— you gathered yourself and threw on your heavy jacket, tossing the hood over your head. Strapped to your thigh, you kept your vibroblade, the last thing you kept from all the years under Kesi’s hold. It had been your protection against aggressive clients, yet you never had the courage to use it. They were aggressive, but there was never enough strength or freedom to fight back. Freedom was something you never knew. 

Finding your way through the streets, you ventured into one of the run-down playrooms in the center of town. Through a cloud of smoke, you found small groups of men hunched over drinks as they played sabacc fervently. Some turned to scrutinize you as you walked in, but you kept your head low, finding your way toward the bar. Nerves didn’t get to you, but a drink could help suffocate the lingering memories. Nursing your drink, you felt the warmth of someone sliding beside you, their hand tracing your arm. It was enough to tense all the muscles in your body, your free hand coasting down to graze the blade on your thigh.

“Are you the entertainment for the night?” The voice asked.

Concealing your amusement, you turned to him, pushing down the hood of your coat. The man had a devilish grin that was both unwelcoming and horrendous. You had no interest in entertaining him. Downing the rest of your drink, you shoved away from the bar, walking towards an open booth to watch the games. 

And he followed. 

“C’mon princess,” he crooned, sitting across from you, “Don’t gotta be stubborn.”

“I suggest you leave me alone before I slice open your stomach.” You spat.

He leaned back, clearly alarmed, and stood without another word. But it was as he left something else caught your eye.

A shadow, but reflective, tore your focus away from the games. Whatever it was, the shine alone was enough to stall every player, their motions slowing as they observed the stranger. Walking in the entrance was a bounty hunter clad in shiny armor, his helmet trained on you. 

Your initial reaction was to run, but as you took in his silhouette, you narrowed your gaze on the blaster at his hip. Returning your gaze back to his helmet, he cocked his head to the side and slid a hand down to rest on the handle of the blaster.

An invitation to run.

A warning if you did.

Neither sounded appealing.

You sunk further into the cushions of the booth, pulling your hood up over your head. It wasn’t lost on you that he had already scoped you out, but to your wishful thinking, you hoped he was in the playroom looking for a bounty. Why would he be looking for you? A better question: who wanted you? A chill ran up your spine as you considered all the possibilities of why he’d be after you: theft, assault, spice smuggling. Worse of them all… Kesi had placed a high price on your head. 

But you would never return to him. 

You would fight for freedom, even if it cost you everything.

The bounty hunter stalked towards you, his steps calculated and slow as if he expected you to run. Your fingers twitched against the blade on your thigh, assessing your options.

You could run, fight, or die, and none of them sounded appealing as he grew closer, but you had to make a decision. 

And option one it was. 

You shoved out of the booth, booking past the game tables and towards the back door. The hood on your coat fell down onto your shoulders as you pushed your body into a full sprint, weaving through the smoke and crowds. The back door opened into a hazy alleyway, and you took off to the left. People stared at you strangely as you belined through the throng of citygoers, shoving through the crowds with curses falling off your lips.

“Fucking move!” You huffed, your feet padding against the asphalt. 

Distance sounds of running caught your attention, and you made the mistake of looking back to see the hunter closing the gap between crowded bodies. You pushed yourself harder, your body aching but persistent from the adrenaline rush. You’d had your fair share of spice before, but nothing compared to the rush of being hunted down. Never did you think your freedom would come to this.

A wall of bodies formed before you, onlookers enraptured in a daze of street performers. Their blissful unawareness would cost you your life, and you reached for your blade at the same moment a gloved hand wound around your bicep in a vice. You swiveled to meet the hunter face to face—well, face to helmet— and slashed the blade against the armor. It did nothing to the metal, not even a single scrape. The bounty hunter huffed, amused, and caught your wrist with his free hand. Your skin pinched between his leathered fingers, and you winced as his grip tightened. 

“Let me fucking go!” You yelled, jostling against his hold.

But he was firm, and the sounds of the crowd began to flood your ears as you attempted to break away.

“…a Mandalorian…”

“Look at the beskar…”

“Have you ever… seen one?”

A Mandalorian? 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This wasn’t just an average bounty hunter. This was a skilled and deadly one, and you just happened to be in his grasp. You had heard stories of them while under Kesi’s control; some spice traders talked about how ruthless and dangerous they were. They were sworn to Mandalore, and they had no moral duty to anything but. 

The Mandalorian drew your body closer, his helmet dipping close to your ear.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.” His voice was warm and smooth and threatened to buckle your legs under you. “Your choice.”

Reeling back, you slammed a foot into the center of his boot, only for him to spin you around and pin you against his body. 

“Wrong choice,” he growled.

He twisted your arms back, clasping cold binders around your wrists. Shoving you forward, he guided you through the crowds of bodies, his hand tight around your elbow. You twisted your head to look back, seeing his helmet set in a firm line and his fingers wrapped around the handle of your blade. 

Fuck, this wasn’t how you expected your night to go.

The Mandalorian’s gunship sat on the city's outskirts, parked in a docking bay surrounded by other speeders and racers. A few docking employees strolled about the platforms, barely paying attention to your struggle against the beskar-clad body behind you. You had attempted several times to rip yourself from his grasp, only to be met by a hard shove forward and a few sharp words. 

(Words that flooded your bloodstream like a liquid drug.)

The ramp lowered with a hiss, and your feet stumbled up the metal flooring as the Mandalorian pushed you into the dark cargo hold of his ship. You barely had time to register your surroundings as he led you toward a carbonite chamber. Your heart sputtered erratically the closer you got, and you fought against him harder.

“Please,” you begged, dragging your feet as far as he’d let you.

“Enough,” he barked. 

Pressing you against the wall with one hand, the Mandalorian used the other to punch in a code to the freezing chamber. The metal doors opened with an expulsion of cold gas, the air sending shockwaves over your skin. As he reached for your shirt to drag you towards the chamber, you let out a series of pleas in hopes of stopping him.

“You can’t!” You cried, tears stinging your eyes as you pulled away from his grasp. “Please, I swear I’ll do anything! Just don’t put me in there. Maker, please.”

He hesitated a moment, his helmet assessing you. 

“I’ll do anything, okay?” You heaved in a breath. “I don’t know who wants me, but please!”

A beat of silence passed as he considered your confession. Tears flowed freely over your face, the shiny beskar blurring as you tried to blink them away. Everything was becoming too hazy, too much. Maker, how did you end up here?

Your body ached from the chase, your wrists burned under the friction of the binders, and the cold air from the chamber beside you was enough to fog your mind. You were teetering on the edge of passing out or dropping dead. It was becoming all too hard to breathe, and you began to gasp for air, sucking lung-fulls in to help ease the pain vibrating through your nerves.

“Just…” You panted. “…Please.”

Your body slumped against the wall, your head hitting the metal sharply, and the world around you blackened.

**

Mando had his fair share of interesting bounties, but an unconscious girl on the floor of his ship had never been one of them. Her head lulled to the side; her body crumpled against the metal ground. He had checked for a pulse, thankful there was one, and let her lay comfortably on the ground. He couldn’t just toss her into the carbonite chamber when she was unconscious. The gas would be all too powerful on weak lungs, and she would die instantly once the metal encased her. And it wasn’t a part of the bounty to bring her in dead. Nor did he particularly relish in killing women— beautiful ones at that. 

It had struck him curious that someone as beautiful as her would wind up in the hands of a bounty hunter. Her face on the holopuck had initially been a shock, and he wondered if he had received the right bounty to begin with. But Greef Karga had assured him it was correct, and the bounty price on her head was high. Too high not to pass it up.

Mando wasn't ‘soft’ by any means. He was used to the brutality and violence that surrounded his lifestyle. He welcomed the silence after a kill and the isolation of the Razor Crest between hunts. Alone. That’s all he had ever known, and nothing would make him give that up. 

But, maker, her soft breathing wasn’t helping his cause. 

He forfeited all options and made the decision to leave her sleeping on the floor. He’d set the nav to Tatooine and reassess later. Once in hyperspace, she would have nowhere to go, and when she finally woke up, then he’d put her into the chamber. That was his plan.

At least for now.

Mando sat in the cockpit alone, his hand flipping her blade in fluid motions. She was a fighter, he knew that much, and cunning. Her first instinct was to run, but she put up just as much of a fight. Usually, he’d be annoyed by a bounty that fought, but for her to fight that hard… It gave him a pause. And her pleading for help? Maker, he wondered what made her into a big enough criminal for a bounty puck. But she had to have done something to catch the eye of a hunter, let alone a hunter like him. 

He tossed her blade up in the air, catching it and flipping it back up for several minutes. Her face danced around his mind the longer he thought about her, and he gave in to climbing down into the cargo hold to check on her. 

As he climbed the ladder, he heard rustling between the cargo crates in the corner. She had tucked herself between them, making her body look smaller and more frail than before. She looked utterly helpless— like a scared child—  and something in his chest tightened. 

“Are you going to kill me?” She whispered, her eyes barely visible in the dim lighting.

His helmet moved side to side slowly as he approached her. Her arms were still bound behind her back, tightly cuffed in bindings, but her small frame fit snugly into the corner against the metal walls. Crouching down, Mando held out a hand to her.

“I’ll take the restraints off,” he offered. “But only if you promise not to cause a problem. I’m not opposed to putting you in carbonite for the rest of the flight.”

She nodded fiercely, twisting her body so that her hands were toward him. Rough hands clicked the lock open on the bindings, and Mando watched as she rubbed the skin of her wrists fervently. Still, she shrunk away from him, pulling her knees to her chest. Her slender arms wrapped around her legs, tucking them closer to her body as she shivered against the bitter cold from traveling hyperspace. 

She stared at him wide-eyed and afraid. Every bounty feared him; his beskar was a telltale sign of danger. But something about her fear didn’t sit quite right with him. 

Only a few more hours, he told himself. Then she’d be off his hands, and he’d be a few credits richer. 

“Do you know who put the bounty on me?” She asked, her voice small. She had been so fierce and loud earlier, but it was apparent she had accepted defeat.

“No,” he said truthfully. He didn’t offer much, but it was enough. 

She exhaled, eyes floating around the cargo hold and avoiding the heavy stare from behind his visor. 

“I’m afraid,” she whispered.

Fuck. He didn’t want to hear that. 

Mando had nothing to respond with, nothing that could console her. He turned from her crouched body and turned back towards the cockpit. The further a distance he could put between them, the better.

She was dangerous. 

**

“No.”

His statement was final, not allowing you to seek answers that you could cling to. The unknown was worse than knowing because there were endless outcomes you could face. You had wronged so many people, a trace of your selfishness scattered across the galaxy. You allowed yourself to lose control of the greed– finding comfort in taking from those undeserving. Too many people had taken what they wanted from you, leaving an emptiness inside you that was insatiable and never fulfilled; you only wanted to do the same to them in return. You could spend eternity trying to find ways to fill the void within you, but you wondered if it was ever enough.

“I’m afraid,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

 The Mandalorian remained motionless and then turned suddenly back towards the cockpit, silence filling the space between you. A sigh left your lips, and you closed your eyes, hoping to slip away from the moments that pulled you closer to an unknown fate. 

You awoke to a distant beeping from the cockpit; you were nearing the coordinates the Mandalorian had punched in hours ago. Unsure of your actions, you climbed the ladder up, peeking into the cockpit to see where he was taking you. It wasn’t until your eyes adjusted to the dimness around you that you realized what planet you were flying towards. Tatooine. 

The last place you expected to be taken to, and certainly the worst possible outcome of being captured. You knew exactly what– no, who– awaited you on Tatooine. If you had given up on pleading before, you regained the strength now, taking this as your last chance to save yourself. 

“I can’t go back to Tatooine,” you blurted out. The Mandalorian whipped his head around, glaring at you through the visor of his helmet. 

Without a response, he leaned forward in the chair, guiding the ship into a descent into the atmosphere of the desert planet. The lower it descended, the higher fear crept up inside you until it clouded all senses. He wouldn’t care what became of you; you were a pile of credits waiting to be collected. If he knew your name, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the reward and the allegiance to his creed. You may not know him well, but you knew enough about the Mandalorian creed to know everything now was hopeless. 

The endless expanse of beige sand came into view, the winds drawing it into waves amongst the dunes. The ship flew further into the terrain, coming to a halt on the outskirts of Mos Eisley. It had been only a few standard years since you had been taken from your home, vowing never to return. Now you were back, existing among the ghosts and regrets of the past. 

The gunship touched down onto the rolling sands of Mos Eisley, the ramp opening slowly, giving way to the heat from outside. It flooded through the ship, a light sweat breaking out on the nape of your neck. The Mandalorian rose to his feet, his armored body turning your way. He reached down, grabbing your wrists, easing your body down the ladder. There was no inclination of emotions from his body, the rise and fall of his breastplate the only evidence that he was indeed a living creature. 

Creature he was as he pulled you down the stairs, leading you through the cargo hold that was littered with mindless tokens he had picked up along his trails of bounties. The ramp exposed you to the brightness of the sand, your eyes quickly squinting against the landscape. You drug your feet against the metal, hoping to stall your exile from all human existence. If you were certain of anything, your fate was not too far off. 

Below the binary suns stood two dark figures, their faces hidden by brimmed hats. The hats were enough of a giveaway to know who they were… and exactly why you dreaded stepping foot on the planet. Your body halted, feet firmly set against the sand, body paralyzed. The Mandalorian slid his hand under the crook of your elbow, urging you forward in silence. He didn’t flinch when you tried to hit him, wrists falling against hard beskar. 

“Please,” you begged, tears brimming your eyes. “You can’t give me to them.”

He remained wordless, only nudging your body forward once more. You mustered up enough energy to fight his hold, spinning to face him fully. His helmet slowly rolled to the side, studying your face as tears fell onto your cheeks. Desperation kicked in, your mind reeling with any offer you could give him. 

“Please,” your voice was weak, “Kill me.”

He made no reaction to your words, so you tried again. 

“Keep me. I’ll do anything you ask. Just keep me from them. You can have me!”

The Mandalorian hesitated a moment, a beat passing before he reacted. The reaction was the exact opposite of what you had hoped; your body pulled further away from the ship… and closer to the figures standing firm within the sand. Tears dried against your cheeks as the warmth of the air burned your skin, leaving your eyes red and dry. The faces of the men came into view as they lifted their heads and exposed their dirtied faces. 

“Mando!” One exclaimed. He was the taller of the two, yellow skin nearly blending into the background behind him, purple eyes piercing you below his hat. You knew him as Jado, an employee of your former employer. “Your efficiency is commendable. She is precious cargo for our boss, and he thanks you for your work.”

The other man, whom you knew as Gaff, tossed a satchel of credits at the Mandalorian’s feet. He didn’t break his gaze from the two men, caring very little of the reward now in his possession. 

“Please,” you spoke once more. His helmet turned to you slowly, and you hoped he could see life fading from your irises. 

“Alright, come on,” Jado spit out your name, ripping you from the Mandalorian’s hold. The bounty hunter freed your wrists from his grasp, only for them to be tugged forward by Jado’s dirt-covered hands. His hands were caked in dirt, traces of spice crusted under his fingernails. The metal restraints you had worn only a few hours ago were now replaced by their own bindings, ones made from rough rope that scratched your skin enough to bleed. 

“Kesi will be very happy to see you,” Jado said sarcastically. 

Your head turned back to watch the Mandalorian– now understood as Mando– fade into the distance. The shine of his beskar glinted in the harsh sun, splintering into fractures of metal and weapons. The nerves within your body sparked in anger, anger from knowing he brought you to your ultimate fate. You knew it was his job; you were merely a bounty fit for a large reward, but you wanted to believe he was still a man under the layers of armor. A man who battled empathy far beyond the bounds of his creed. 

Jado situated your body on the speeder, hauling his own body behind yours. You were all too aware of his body pressed against your back. The heat radiating from his mouth and onto your neck began to nauseate you. Glancing over, you saw Gaff straddle his own speeder, nodding once at Jado– an urge to begin moving. Gaff followed behind Jado’s speeder, the sound of its engine muffling your ears until they grew deaf. Mos Eisley was exactly as you had left it: crawling with slimy criminals and reeking of sour booze. As your heart pounded heavier against your ribs, you watched as each cantina and spaceport drifted out of view. With each passing moment, you grew dreadfully close to Kesi’s junkyard and closer to your death.

The junkyard was littered with newer ship parts; bolts and metal plates scattered the ground. The familiar workstation that sat vacant in the corner caught your eye. It had been your workstation, at least back when your family owned the yard. Now, it was in the possession of Kesi Jissard, one of the most feared spice traders in the galaxy. The same man that forced you into the trading world, baiting you to sell and trade on the promise of freedom. But freedom never came. Not until you found a way to buy it. 

The slow rhythm of hands clapping echoed around the empty ship hanger. Your head was on a  swivel, eyes wildly searching for the origin of the sound. Emerging from the shadows, Kesi continued to clap, an evil smirk creasing his yellow-tinted skin. 

Kesi spoke your name, his thick accent cutting the silence. “I’ve missed you.”

You bit your tongue, suppressing the urge to talk back, knowing it would only lead to more suffering. Kesi had a short temper, usually satiated by bruising skin and smoking blasters. But when you didn’t respond, he stepped forward, reaching for your jaw. His grip was bruising as he wagged your head back and forth. 

“You’ve caused me a lot of damage,” he spoke slowly as if every syllable was a drop of poison on your skin. “I’m in debt for thousands of credits, and because you decided to run, I had to spend even more just to hunt you down.”

“You could have let me keep running,” you said, words muffled from his hold on your chin.

Kesi’s dark eyes widened, glistening with premeditated thoughts of harm. He squeezed your chin and pulled away with such force that it left your head falling backward. 

“You’ve missed out on a lot of work,” he mused, pacing between you and the workstation aside from you. “There will be a lot of clients happy to see your return.”

“I’d rather die,” you spat, stepping forward. Where you found the courage, you don’t know. 

“Trust me,” Kesi chuckled, “I would love to kill you. But you’re far more valuable alive than dead. You’re of more use to me when you’re breathing and working.”

Kesi turned away from you, searching through the remnants of the workstation. With his large body blocking the view of what he found, your heart lurched with uncertainty. He clicked his tongue in satisfaction, holding a black bag up to the dim light of the station lamp. Your heart plummeted into your stomach, nausea coursing up through your esophagus. Turning to you, Kesi donned a broad grin, evil basking in the stretch of his lips against his cheeks. 

“We’ve got a new product on the market now,” he began, walking towards you again. 

You stumbled as you took a step back, knowing you wouldn’t be able to go much further without someone snatching you and dragging you right back. 

Kesi continued, “Since you’re going to sell it for me, you might as well try it.”

You watched as he unraveled the string of the bag, a smaller wrapped bag falling into his hands. The spice was an unusual color compared to the rest; its pigment was closer to black than the usual beige-brown you had been used to selling. Your pulse was rising alarmingly, and you wondered if Kesi could see the fear seeping from your eyes. The fear fell in waves of quiet tears, your lips wavering but never making a noise. 

“Why don’t you sit?” he insisted, yanking you by the elbow to the workman's chair by the desk. 

All you could do was comply, regardless of the nagging that pricked your brain in sharp pinpoints. You wished you had the strength to fight him. You wished you had the words to beg for a different outcome. 

You wished the Mandalorian had listened to your pleas. 

But the Mandalorian was gone and a richer man now, too. And here you were, helpless once more and three steps back from freedom. 

The second your ass hit the seat of the chair, Kesi was wrapping a hand around your wrists, pinning you against the wooden material. With the free hand he had, Kesi dipped a finger into the powdered substance, lifting it to your lips. 

“C’mon princess,” he hissed, “Open that pretty mouth of yours.”

You made no effort to open your mouth, your jaw locked and refusing to fall slack. Kesi’s mood changed into a slow-burning anger, his fingers bruising your skin. You squirmed against the seat, looking around the workstation for anything capable of substantial harm. The desk was nearly clean, sans a few miscellaneous tokens and scrap spice containers. 

“Open. Your. Mouth.” 

Kesi’s removed his hand from your wrists, only to deliver the most jarring slap across your cheek. It sent your head reeling, leaving you little time to recover. Your mouth fell open, groaning at the severity of the hit, and the surmounting pain replaced every emotion stirring within you. He took your vulnerability as an opportunity, his spice-covered finger slipping onto your tongue. 

You hadn’t tasted spice in years. It was not something you enjoyed recreationally, nor did you enjoy selling. In a professional setting, spice was seen as a delicacy for some of the richer citizens in the lower rim. Spice was well sought out, and if you had access to the right employers, spice production would be endless. 

But as the product dissolved on your tongue, it didn’t take long for the effects to begin to form. Words from Kesi’s lips grew into jumbles, falling on deaf ears. Your vision began blurring, too, and soon enough, all of your senses were paralyzed. It was as if you were watching from the furthest part of your brain, floating away from the controls inside your body. Becoming all too aware of the heaviness of your body, you slowly felt your shoulders slump over, your body weight no longer supported in the chair. Eyes fluttering shut, you wondered if another side effect of the spice was hallucinations. 

Because you could have sworn you saw a glimpse of shiny metal walking into the junkyard.

#mando #mando x reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #star wars fanfiction

[kittenintheden]

ok but what if Astarion comes upon Tav very focused on sketching, and he flirts up a storm offering to model nude, but the serious artist Tav immediately agrees, and sets up an elaborate stage with candles for him before Astarion even knows what’s happening

Astarion receives a giant ass paining of him reclining like the girl from Titanic, and he can barely fit it inside his tent but dammit he’s never not going to hang it up, so every time Gale comes to pick up a book Astarion stole borrowed Gale gets an eyeful of gloriously naked Astarion

"Where in the Outer Planes is that damn book?" Gale shifts through his towering piles of tomes, each threatening to topple at any given moment. Yet they never do. Strange.

The great wizard of Waterdeep makes an exasperated noise, scanning the floor of his tent once more with his hands on his hips. When he comes up empty once again, he throws up his hands.

"Not like I needed this mana, anyway," he snipes, raising his hand in front of him to gently pass it through the material plane and into the Weave, pulling a comforting thread close and using it to draw a familiar rune in the air. He speaks an incantation, focuses on the book he desires, and releases the spell.

Gale's eyes glow with violet pinpoints in the center, granting him mystical vision to follow a winding trail that leads... directly to the vampire's tent.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I was Mystra's Chosen. I really should be able to deduce that the thief is the most likely candidate. No matter."

His robes brush across the dusty ground as he makes his way over. He doesn't bother announcing himself, seeing as Astarion never gives him such a courtesy. Or any courtesy at all, really.

"What have you done with my-" Gale cuts himself off as he enters the man's tent, jerking his head to one side as if he's been slapped and raising a hand in front of his face.

"Do you like it?" Astarion says from where he reclines on his bedroll, the book in question open on the ground in front of him. "Aren't I majestic? Tav's quite the artist, I must say. Very disciplined."

"Tav seems to have exaggerated certain proportions, if I'm honest," Gale says back testily, his eyes still averted from the massive painting that takes up the entire rear wall of Astarion's tent.

"Yes, the ears are a bit too long," Astarion agrees, looking upon his own oil-painted visage, reclined much in the same way he is now, surrounded by draping red silks and candles, and very much in the nude.

Gale heaves a mighty sigh and holds out his hand. "My book, if you would."

"Oh, fine. I'd think someone from Waterdeep would have better appreciation for the arts, honestly."

Gale feels the heavy weight of his copy of "Mystical Familiars and Where to Find Them" sink into his waiting palm. He waves it at his campmate.

"Good evening, Astarion. You seem to be in your favorite company, so I'll be on my way. Wouldn't want to interrupt."

"Ta," Astarion says with a wave of his fingers. After the tent flap swings shut once again, he admires his portrait once more. Tilts his head just a bit. Clicks his tongue.

"I suppose it is a touch asymmetrical. Pity."

He blows it a kiss nonetheless.

#astarion bg3 #astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #ask box #these two are absolute clown shoes #I love them

[ryo-apologist]

Shiggy's Slutty Lil' Waist

Shigaraki Tomura x Reader

CW: Smut, Minors DNI, I will block your ass, talk about crop tops on men and gray sweatpants. Don't like? Bully me it'll be foreplay <3 /j

AN: I saw a picture of Johnny Depp in a crop top. We all know the one. And yk what? Shiggy has the same slutty lil waist. And so far all three of my posts have been about Shiggy. Will that change? Idk ask me next week. It's my comfort character and I can seek toxic comfort WHEN I WANT-

~Darling XOXO

☾ Shigaraki Tomura has the sluttiest fucking waist.

☾ That's it. That's the post.

☾ No, I'm kidding. I'll elaborate for thirsty whores like me. And Barbie. Shout out to them.

☾ Shigaraki obviously has the fits going for him. Name one outfit he wore that didn't slap. Exactly. You can't. So contrary to what people think, I think Shigaraki takes a bit (Not a lot, do not get me wrong) of care in how he looks. He has an image to maintain after all. How can he be expected to be the big, bad leader of the LOV if he doesn't look like it.

☾ That being said, I think at some point it just comes naturally to him to dress in ways that suit his body.

☾ And we all know he has the body to do so. After he left that big ol' test tube? Did y'all SEE his arch? Fuck man I couldn't arch better if I TRIED. Like,-

☾ Okay before this post turns into a tiktok comment section on the thirstiest of Gojo Edits, let me continue.

☾ My point here, is he probably doesn't dress like we see in the anime all the time. That would get tiring. Drain his mana level if you would. And he needs time to recharge.

☾ So, In this essay post, I'm here to argue that Shigaraki Tomura wears crop tops that barely brush past his nipples to show off his slutty little waist.

☾ You know, the shirts that had a hole in the front? Instead of sewing them like a reasonable man, he rips them from that hole all the way around. Which means his crop tops vary in length. Every single one of them.

☾ And that leaves perfect access for you to wrap your hands around his waist and just hold him like that. He hates it. No, he doesn't.

☾ In all truth, Shigaraki loves the feelings of your hands on his midsection because it's such an intimate place to him. He loves feeling you touch him with no fear, even though he knows the second he's done with you, he's taking those hands and dusting you.

☾ Y'all didn't think I was about to turn my greatest number one villain into a *gasp* nice person, did you? /lh

☾ Sorry, not here. Shigaraki does not do love. Only with me, dw guys I'll treat him right :). He's a man with needs that get in the way of his bigger plans. Sorry, not sorry.

☾ Anyway, trail your hands up his ribs and play with his nipples. Pinch them and roll them between your thumb and forefinger. It buys you another day. Additionally, you get to play with his fat tits.

☾ He has one shirt that he outgrew after his transformation that absolutely hugs his double dee, mommy milking, calcium cannon, honga-bazongas, dippin dots, whatyoudoingouthere withallthattiddies, boinga boinga, bouncing bangers.

☾ This one magically turned into a crop top. It was crazy. Shoutout to whoever put it in the wash to shrink it. They a real one.

☾ It was me.

☾ And it's like that one meme of the guy looking at something with his pecs right there and the lady is just O-O at them. Which...Yeah me too.

☾ Anyway, he wears it all the time because he's convinced it still fits.

☾ Play with his...pecs... through the shirt. He has the most sensitive nipples and it just brushes against them just right and...He likes it is all I'm gonna say.

☾ Now, I know what we're all thinking, 'Darling, what about the pants?' And Darling's got you, baby cakes.

☾ I only tease in the bedroom :)

☾ Grey sweatpants season is EVERY season for this man. He's got like three pairs he cycles through. Kurogiri HATES them. He tries to throw them out and replace them with sensible jeans or slacks.

☾ Never works. He's like a raccoon with stocks of them EVERYWHERE.

☾ Anyway, so he's got his gray sweats and his slutty little crop tops. Let me paint this picture for Y'all.

☾ Shigaraki Tomura wearing a tight white t-shirt that's shrunk into a crop top, clinging to his chest as he stretches his arms above his head, biceps straining against the fabric. His toned abdomen is constricting with his every breath of his, on full display along with the angles of his slutty lil' waist. Your eyes follow down to his belly button and following the trail of white hairs that lead to his v-line, the waistband of his pants just barely clinging to his hips but hugging the delicious outline of his cock, which, while even flaccid, is enough to make anyone drool.

☾ Y'all seeing the vision now? Because I do.

☾ I'm seeing the vision. I'm salivating over the vision. I'm ready to turn into a Gojo fan girl at this point. Like I'm drooling. No lube. No protection. No-

☾ And if you start playing with his tits like this? In this outfit?

☾ He's trying to swat you away, you're getting in the way of his game, but your hands are feeling too good. He's only half paying attention to the pixels anyway, but it's about the principle of letting you get your way.

☾ But you can see you're winning with the way his cock twitches in his pants, throbbing in plain sight.

☾ Your lips trace along his neck and suddenly the pause screen pops up. There's a dark patch already soaking through his pants and they're lose enough your fingers can dip right past the band and trace along his shaft.

☾ He's already groaning, debating if this is worth his time. Worth the distraction.

☾ When your pretty little fingers wrap around his cock and give it a firm tug, he decides it is.

☾ Do not think he rolls over and let's you do as you please however.

☾ No, no, no. He's pulling you over the couch and pinning you as he gets rid of the bigger distractions stopping from doing exactly what he wants.

☾ If he leaves you a dripping, drooling mess on the couch, that's your own fault really.

☾ But who really cares at that point, because in the end, you won anyway <3

☾ But FUCK does Shiggy have a slutty lil' waist.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero acedamia #boku no hero academia x reader #darling writes #mha #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader smut #tomura x reader smut #tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader smut

[pospoets]

The Iron blooded knight's young master

Javier never asked for this kind of fate.

Javier never did anything to deserve anything like this, the grave of the Frontiers, the tyrant queen, the death of Siluria, and everything.

What kind of God decided his fate was to walk on this path? The fate of the iron blooded knight, at this point he'd do anything to come back to that life of serving the bastard son of Baron.

He laughed to himself at that thought, which he realized sounded crazy soon enough by the fact that he's laughing all alone.

Who would've thought he would miss that bastard Lloyd Frontera? But when you've seen worse than what this man had done then it would make sense, at least he didn't try to kill him, he just hated him.

How ironic

His movements staggered, almost letting himself fall to the dry ground.

But that wasn't just some random coincidence, because he doesn't falter for no reason.

His feet moved at the speed where it would startle his ambusher as he pulled his sword out of its hold, ready to decapitate the ambushe-

And his swinging stopped mid-way, as he realizes whose neck he almost cut off, a familiar face he missed yet despised so much.

And horror settles in as a small trail of blood trickled down the knight's sword, he stares at the person before him who had looked shocked yet not frightened.

Lloyd frontera.

The man whistled, "You look like a mess, Javier." A hint of pity and sadness laced in his voice despite the sarcastic tone,

"Lloyd…" Javier breathed out, his hands trembling as he slowly moved his sword away from the young master's neck, "Master Lloyd." And now even his voice cracked as years of torment catched up to him, he didn't expect to be this emotional after seeing a face he had hated so much in the past.

Lloyd stood for a second before stepping forward to the knight, hesitantly, he said; "...it's okay Javier, I'm here." Breathing and Standing Javier wanted to continue his words, he didn't even realize tears were falling down his cheeks as his legs gave out, grabbing his supposed to be dead young master's coat, dragging Lloyd to the ground with him too.

"Master Lloyd."His voice trembled.He was sure this wasn't an illusion, this wasn't- this was real. There was no lingering mana or anything there was no signs of any mages near that was messing with him, Lloyd was alive and here with him.

He looked back up to Lloyd, eyes red from the tears that had been spilling down like waterfall, and Lloyd opened his mouth as his brows furrows upwards as if to show worry, and the young master whispered something akin to the words that had made him fall asleep Multiple times.

And Javier's eyes closed.

If this was how he was going to die then he was glad it was this way, at least someone had made an effort to make his death not so agonizing and sad.

Lloyd grabbed Javier before he could face-plant to the ground, "I'm here, my dear Javier." Kim Suho whispered as he kissed the hair of his beloved knight.

"I'm here."

Poss on their way to write the most gut wrenching angsty reunation of two characters that would probably never meet:

#the greatest estate designer #the greatest estate developer #lloyd frontera #Javier Asrahan #Tged #No Beta we die like Lloyd #Why did i do this #I cried #TAKE MY EMOTIONS AWAY

[secretagentsociety]

Huge yandere X extremely concerningly chill reader pt2

We all know the drill eng isn't my first language,I didn't proof read yada yada and this is again just self indugent

more about huge yandere!

•first thing first the world you're in Because no!people no no this fic is not taking place in our normal modern world that would be boring.to write,anyway this world is a fantasy world called gaia,it have worrior,villains,heroes,fairy,god goddesses,elf,goblins and even the legendary m.i.l.f. and d.i.l.f so there's that.

In my defense who doesn't know a fantasy magic based world amirite? Alr we done? We cool with this? Moving on!!

• so whats like his deal?,like what's his backstory?Well you're in luck!bcuz I have just the thing!firstly he hails from a humble beginning-

Nah he's the hero of this world,yes you heard it right the righteous hero,summoned isekaid typical op mc but he's just built naturally tall and naturally scary so ppl thought of him as a devil and basically discredit his hero Status, The mages then proceed to summon another hero a more traditional looking one yk?suave,cool,has way with words and prolly have a whole harem?yes that replaced our beloved yandere

oh but it's fine!he doesn't rlly see the point of a harem,in his eyes there can only be one person he shall devote his life into And that is you!:D his beautiful dearest darling (yes even if you're a dude you'd still be beautiful to him)(no exceptions)

• now that his backstory is over let's get to know him really His name is Tresh (real name unknown)(goes by Tresh cuz yes)

his height?that depends how tall are you?now take that and add about...hmmm....alot more than that and bam!you have his height!(How many is alot more is unspecified,go ham make him a giant for all we care :P)

His appearance typical scary mobster but still kinda cute kinda hot ya feel me?,like wouldn't be the first guy you laid your eyes on but wouldn't be the dude you forget instantly

his hair is basically just black with little white strand to it His eye colour plain brown just normal brown that looked like black nothin special but it's cute yk?I love brown eyes,they cool,they vibing

•his job? well he's basically a hero?villain?who knows not even me the author knows,but I could tell you this,since he is the original hero the world favours him GREATLY!

so don't even try to run cuz some of the most ridiculous sht will happen to you like for example tripping on a stick and bam! Right into his arm how you get there?idk.

and since he basically got the world's favor he's strong as fk remember? he's mc,typical op and yada yada all that jazzy plot armor,yes he had those even if he's 'replaced' the only thing the new hero can obtain is just the thing he never pursue After

which he felt lucky that he pursue you (he say pursue I say kidnapping,but yk what tomato potato) Before the new hero,cuz just the thought of you being eyed by that sleezy womaniser!perverted!douchebag! new hero made him angry to the point his mana spills out causing a not so good natural disaster

Oh well he's sure the new hero will fix it :D

• how jealous CAN he get Now I mentioned previously he's jealous as fk,now his jealousy doesn't show Infront of you,although if it did you prolly wouldn't even gaf,but behind you oh boy...

honestly had you not been aware of you surroundings?!

basically everyone avoided gazing at you for more than 5 seco-i mean 3-no?ok 2 seconds???- okay he gotta stop or everyone gonna have to use a blindfold just to keep the empire peaceful and away from his wrath

may or may not have had his loyal subordinates to trail after you,not to stalk you or anything (yes it's to stalk you) it's just to take records of what you're doing everyday (which is stalking) but it's not rlly stalking if it's for your safety (nope still stalking) he just loves you so much what if you got injured?!and he wasn't there?! Oh god the horror of paper cuts you could be in pain!!(cool motif still stalking)

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Have to stop here bcuz it'll be too long,I shall continue later.

Pt1

#yandere male #yandere oc x reader #yandere hero #yandere x darling #Tw yandere

[animeyanderelover]

I’m so glad requests are open again! 😄 I was wondering if I could request more members of the akatsuki (of your choosing) as vampires. I really enjoyed the last one did

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, stalking, clinginess, sadism, manipulation, threats, isolation, violence, death

Vampire AU

Obito Uchiha

🔥Years, decades, centuries. Obito has stopped counting the passage of time. It has become meaningless to him ever since he was turned into a vampire. Yet the hole in his heart still feels as fresh as ever. The images still haunt him today. The lifeless look in his love’s face, the feeling of her cold skin and the sticky blood on her body. Brutally murdered and then sucked dry by a vampire hidden among the villagers. Yet no one in his old village had ever dared to go after the vampire, too afraid of angering them. So Rin had just become another victim to appease the vampire for a while, the same who had also murdered his parents. Cowards. All of them. The death of Rin has shattered Obito and the consequences of this incident have influenced him until this age. With her death, his heart has died too. That’s why he didn’t feel anything when burning down the village he had learned to despite ever since that day nor did he feel any less horrified when confronting the vampire who had killed his parents and Rin despite having only been human that time. Obito left victorious yet scarred and as a vampire.

🔥You are a naïve young thing. Don’t you know better than to approach a stranger in the rain and offer him cover under your umbrella? A silly sickness you may worry he could catch if he would continue sitting beneath the pouring rain is the least thing you should have to concern yourself about. He could kill you within the blink of an eye yet Obito doesn’t do anything. He just sits there quietly, eyes hazy as he is with his thoughts far away. He’s thinking about Rin again and ignores you in favor of drowning in memories. You aren’t distracting him after all as you are considerate enough to notice the unspoken sorrow draped around his heart. You spend your time with him, even though he is barely acknowledging you yet clearly it doesn’t bother you. A considerable amount of time passes by until rays of sunshine fight their way through the rain clouds. That’s when you finally take your leave, say your goodbye to the strange man and apologize if your presence should have annoyed him in any way. You don’t notice the black eye trailing after you for the first time that day. What a funny human you are…

🔥There is a certain appeal, an attraction, a thrill whenever you spot the mysterious man. No one in your village seems to know of his existence. You are the only one and you can’t deny the feeling of specialness that accompanies this knowledge. The town you live in consists of a small community where everyone knows everyone and everything. But this man is your secret and selfishly you hope that you’ll be the only one who he ever shows himself to. Obito has grown to tolerate your presence at worst and enjoy it somewhat at best. Perhaps that is just because he appreciates that you aren’t annoying him with any persistent questions. You seem to be happy just to silently spend time with him and even if he knows that it’s because visitors are so rare in your town and that he’s only shown himself to you, he doesn’t bother to think too much about it. Maybe, just maybe your presence and personality is something refreshing to him and the hollow pain he has been calling his companion for so long now. It is comforting and even soothing to just spend time with you, although he has never exchanged a word with you.

🔥Curious and kind eyes that stare so intently at him and study his scarred visage without a hint of fear melt his cold and dead heart. A feeling is stirring awake inside of him. A feeling Obito thought had died on that day together with Rin. It manages to fill a hole in his heart that has been empty for too long. With the feeling of fulfillment soon comes a paranoia though that will soon burn everything in its path. With the gradual feeling of warmth and love that pulses through his body comes the immense fear to lose the source of his love once again. Obito fears the loss of you, fears the hollowness that would befall him again if that were to happen, worse than ever before. His body starts reacting whenever you get too close to him, itching to feel your warm skin against his cold skin and feel your heartbeat against his dead one. He despises your absence that tears open the gaping wounds on his heart that you just managed to soothe with your mere existence. He hates the loneliness he now has to endure because of your absence and so he starts stalking you. A silent shadow that watches every step you take and admires your sleeping form at night.

🔥Even through all of his paranoia, everything is still somewhat stable. Because you’re still there with him. He can never let go of the image of your face when he finally reveals his name to you. The look of astonishment and wonder in your eyes as you hear his voice for the first time before it turns into giddiness and joy before you excitedly tell him your own name. He’s known your name already as he has heard other people call you by it whenever he has been watching you without your knowledge. As long as he has you, Obito feels somewhat alright. But then those people try to take you away from him. In such a small village rumors and gossip get around quickly. An arranged marriage between you and the child of a farmer. The mere whisper of those words shatters something within him but it’s your tears that give him the final blow to his sanity when you come running to him the very next day. Your eyes are red and puffy as you sob as you have just gotten the news from your parents and feel utterly powerless as you can’t defy them. The feeling of muscular arms pressing you against his cold body surprises you. He’s never touched you before.

🔥His tight grip on you doesn’t loosen for a while as Obito clings onto you, promises you that everything will be alright. That he’ll take care of it.There is something that unsettles you about his voice and so you look up at his face. When your teary eyes meet his own, a look of lovesick infatuation crosses his face, one of his hands wiping away your tears as he starts cooing over you. You remember his black eye turning red before you lose consciousness. When you wake up again, the sky above you is dark… So why is it still so bright? You slowly stand up, sleepy and confused, as you start walking into the direction of the light. Fire. Your whole town swallowed up by the flames. You want to let out a scream but the horror silences you, only the cackling of the flames filling the air. There is a tightness in your chest, your hands trembling and your vision blurring with a new set of tears. The feeling of familiar arms wrapping themselves around you from behind nearly stops your heart, his sickening sweet voice telling you that he’s got rid of all of them. Icy lips trail across your neck, murmuring promises of eternal protection and love.

Konan

🤍Konan’s childhood has been filled with suffering and hardships that some adults will never reach within their lives. She has grown up in a time of civil war where the community fell apart and groups with different beliefs emerged and fought against each other. Her own family who tried to stay out of the conflict unfortunately became a victim of the raging war as Konan was only a young girl when she witnessed both of her parents being killed right in front of her. From that day on, she was forced to learn how to survive on her own. Whilst other children spent their time dreaming and playing around, Konan had to survive on the streets. With no money available to buy anything, she had to learn how to steal food, clothes and everything else that she might need. She can’t even count all of the times she was caught and beaten when caught in the act of stealing, only spared because she was a young child. Forced to run, hide, steal and kill for survival. Perhaps that is why she shows courage in front of a vampire when even whilst mortally wounded. She does not fear death as she has never truly lived anyways. What courage.

🤍Up until this day she doesn’t truly know why the vampire chose to save her life. Was it admiration or pity that moved them to turn her into an immortal being? She will never find the answer to that as she hasn’t seen her creator in nearly 300 years. Time has passed within the blink of an eye and the war is long over. What used to be a destroyed graveyard of a town is now a modern city and the brutal civil war is now part of history books. It is strange, to see all those smiling faces who have never experienced anything even remotely close to what she has gone through. Drawn to the place that used to be her home though, Konan still visits this place every few years to see how much it has changed once again. Truly nothing seems to be eternal except her kind as even empires crumble eventually. She enjoys visiting libraries and reading books in a quiet and peaceful environment. It is during one of her visits that she meets you for the first time. You’re a student majoring in history with your nose literally stuck in loads of books as you nearly walk against her, unable to see behind the pile of books.

🤍As you are aiming to major in history by the end of university, the library is one of your sacred places. Konan spots you quite often there, borrowing books and giving them back or just sitting on one of the tables and scribbling quickly down everything you can write down. You’re diligent and quick but she can sense that your studies stress you out. You smell constantly of coffee, the caffeine keeping you late at night alive to finish your paperwork and the lack of good sleep has led you to be more clumsy and accident-prone. It’s such a pity that you stress yourself out to such an extent because Konan genuinely likes you. You’re adorable, scatter-brained and somewhat shy as you are in an awkward phase in your life. Most admirable is your genuine interest in history though as you find it fascinating to research the past and compare ideas and ideologies from back then with current developments today. Sometimes you get so excited that you dump a short history lesson on her but she just listens intently, sometimes correcting you when you got something wrong.

🤍Konan has remained detached from humans ever since she was turned. She knows the bad reputation vampires have, even if most people nowadays only view them as a legend. Her eternal lifespan is only additional weight she has to carry as she knows that a human’s life is but a mere blink for her. She knows that she shouldn’t spend so much time with you, knows that she shouldn’t start catching feelings. Yet feelings remain the same, no matter whether she is a human or a vampire. Maybe it is also the loneliness of 300 years talking out of her that makes her enjoy your presence so much. Your curiosity is refreshing and your willingness to accept the wrongdoings of the country you grew up in and the conviction that it’s important to learn from the mistakes of the past impress her and your excited rambling whenever she shows interest in your studies only adds to everything. Those growing feelings make her all the more worried for you though. She senses how much you start stressing yourself out as exams come around. She watches you without your knowledge skipping sleep in favor of not missing the deadline.

🤍Just like that you suddenly get a secretive caretaker. Someone who somehow manages to slip notes in your apartment , especially in your own bedroom, to remind you to go to sleep in time. Someone who buys you food and drinks and places them in front of your door. Someone who always seems to know what you are doing and where you are. In modern terms you would call that a stalker so despite the kind intent behind those actions, you start freaking out. Whilst Konan understands your increase in paranoia, she can’t deny the tinge of sadness when she sees how negatively you react to her gifts. She decides to stop though in order to not add to your increasing stress. The damage seems to be already done though as she doesn’t see you anymore in the library. You have decided to stay inside your apartment out of anxiety to be followed again. Instead you start working like a maniac to finish your essays and to study for your exams. When she finally breaks into your house after a few days of not having seen you, she finds your unconscious form hunched over your desk. You’ve fainted from overwork.

🤍No one can tell you who it was that contacted the hospital. You can’t remember anything either. It is a mystery that haunts. It must be the same person who wrote you notes and bought you stuff. With a high fever due to malnourishment, you don’t have enough time to worry as much as you could. You decide to take the time in the hospital to just rest properly. It’s night already when you stir awake from your ill slumber, a gust of wind caressing your hot face. Has someone opened the window? You recognize a silhouette standing in your room, highlighted by the silver light from the moon reaching through the window. Cold fingers reach out to touch your heated skin, the contrast almost pleasant if it wouldn’t be for your fear. Who is that? You can recognize golden eyes glowing in the dark, the voice of a woman soothingly talking to you. She seems familiar… From where do you know her? Your mind in your ill state works too slow to process everything properly as the cold touches lure you back into your sleep. When a nurse enters your room to check on you, there’s only the chilly wind and the empty bed greeting her.

Deidara

💥Deidara has grown up in a family known for being passionate artists yet unfortunately no one around him seemed to value the art that his family created. Everyone was only focused on money, riches and food as the service of his family was rarely requested. There was only little money that his parents were able to earn and it was barely enough to get by. Going to bed hungry without any food in his stomach became a common experience for Deidara yet he knew better than to complain and whine for something he knew his parents couldn’t give him. As he grew older, he eventually parted ways with his parents when they decided to finally give up their dreams. Even if they had down it to earn enough money for the family, Deidara has never been able to forgive them for throwing away their passion for such a crude thing such as money. He set out to find his own special art and it was on one of those journeys that he had his deadly encounter with the very vampire who ended up turning him. Yet strangely enough Deidara never mourned the loss of his humanity. After all with his time limit now removed, he could truly perfect his art.

💥Deidara hasn’t been a vampire for that long. It has only been a few years. His level of self-control still isn’t nowhere near as good as it could be. That is why his throat feels dry and thirst suddenly overcomes him when he picks up the scent of blood on one evening. His pupils widen and he bares his sharp fangs ever so slightly as he follows that irresistible aroma. He’s sure that he would have killed you on that night if it wouldn’t have been for you lighting up those fireworks despite accidentally cutting yourself. The colorful explosions and the sounds of the fireworks going off is what forces his senses to focus on something besides the smell of your blood. And just like that he is in awe of what he sees as explosions are something Deidara has discovered for himself too in those past few years where he has become a vampire. He’s just standing behind you and watching the fireworks in silent admiration before a startled shout from you disturbs his admiration when you suddenly spot him in the darkness. He apologizes for his unannounced appearance before he quickly walks away to quench his thirst elsewhere.

💥Yet Deidara isn’t going to leave you just like that. Not after what he has seen you lighting up fireworks, something that is still a new invention in the human world and for that rare. He hunts down someone from a village close to where he is, the village where you most likely live, before he approaches you again. He’s quite excited when he spots you again after searching for you, eager to talk with you about what you have done yesterday. You on the other hand look mildly mortified when you recognize him, your eyes nervously darting around when he mentions that he is the person who saw you yesterday in the forest. Before he can say anything more though, you usher him quickly somewhere else. It isn’t until you are sure that no one is around anymore, something that he can confirm with his enhanced senses, that you’re willing to engage in a conversation with him. You make it very clear that Deidara should never tell anyone about in the village what he has seen you do yesterday. The blonde man is confused but just agrees out of curiosity for you to continue explaining to him and because you look cute when you’re nervous.

💥You confess to him that the creation of fireworks within your village is strictly forbidden. It is not only because in the rural area you live in such an invention is still foreign and largely unknown but also because everyone, especially the elder people who still make a lot of the rules within the town, fear the dangers of accidents that might happen. That’s why you have to make everything your own in a secret place you created within the forest and have to keep it a secret that you create something the villagers have forbidden anyone living here to make. As a fellow artist with the same fascination and love for explosions, Deidara’s heart goes out for you. Why must the ignorance of others hold back an artist’s passion? He quickly offers to help you, to help you to perfect your dream of creating the most beautiful and perfect firework. Even if you would try to tell him that he doesn’t have to lend you a hand, he doesn’t listen to you. He’s far too stubborn to listen to anybody as he volunteers to get you every tool you need to build fireworks in secret. As a fellow artist, it is his duty to help you to perfect your creation.

💥Far too quickly you seem to recognize that he has caught feelings for you. How could you not when he constantly looks at you either that stupidly infatuated smile on his face? Deidara feels like he has found his soulmate, his princess to protect in you. Both of you are after all stuck in the same dilemma as artists under-appreciated and misunderstood by the public. He’s set on showering you all the more in praise and love in return for every little thing you do. He’s going to help you to fulfill your passion as he assists you in making everything and even happily shows you his own art he has been working on. As an artist you approve of it but in his already delusional mind he takes every compliment as another confession of love from your side. He despises it whenever you have to leave him, cold arms thrown around your body as he whines and begs for you to spend some more time with him. You remain firm in your decisions to leave him though, giving him no other choice besides stalking you. He can’t help but develop a passionate hatred against your town though as he views them as oppressors who hinder your art.

💥Soon that hatred turns into a twisted idea. Why doesn’t he free you from your shackles? Both of you could create wonderful art together. Enraptured by this idea and his sick delusion convincing him that you’ll show him only gratitude for it, he starts scattering his clay bombs everywhere within the village. He even gifts some of them to people in the village under the disguise of them being only sculptures. That same night he excitedly drags you up a hill further away from the village with a huge grin on his face. He has something amazing to show you. As soon as both of you have climbed the hill, he uses the abilities he had gained since becoming a vampire to activate all the bombs. You can only watch in horror, Deidara only in ecstasy as every bomb goes off. The sight of your tears confuses Deidara, a frown on his face as his palms try to wipe them away yet new ones keep on flowing down your face. What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Through your tears you catch a glimpse of his sharp fangs and suddenly freeze in shock. What now? Oh, that’s right… He totally forgot to tell you that he is a vampire.

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere obito #yandere obito uchiha #yandere konan #yandere deidara

[idontknowmyownmind]

Inspired by this

OgCale x ocDragon / *character* as dragon

OgCale has been getting 'stalked' by a dragon who found him fancinating

As long as Cale remember, he is always there, in the corner of his eyes

Silently watching and observes

Cale feels weird the first time but he got used to it

Beside that person always 'protect' him

Everytime someone had bad intention or malice, they will suddenly look around frantically as if sensing something

Or sometimes he found those who 'hurt' him dead or missing the next day

Cale never know how his 'stalker' looks

But sometimes, since he turned 15, he will stay in the corner of dark alley

He will be pressed on the wall while he hug his waist and nuzzle his neck, trailing a soft and light kisses on his neck, troath, ears, and face. It's like he is scenting him, marking him

But no matter how long they stay hidden, how his eyes adjust at the darkness, he can't make out how he look

What he know is, he is at least two head taller than him with lean build, but Cale still can felt the mucle on his body, and he has long hair

He never talk directly at him but using a telepathy, making Cale seemingly talk to no one if someoner heard him

As time goes by, tight hug became soft and gentle caresses. Feather-like kisses became a stroke of teeth and little lick. And Cale doesn't know since when his lips became his favorite kissing spot

The kisses started out sweet and slow and gentle but became more intents, involving open mouths and tongue

His touch became more intimate without Cale realized it and he doesn't hate it, he actually loving it

Cale has a guess to what he is of course, his first thought was a dragon but dropped it almost immediately because why would a dragon take an interest at him for so long? But it never really leave his mind

On his 18th birthday, Cale awakened by a feeling of slow and sweet caresses over his body that make him shudders and someone's hand over his eyes

Feeling familiar with the touch, he let himself relax and accept it

He wished him a happy birthday, the first one, and gave him kisses to every part of his face

Cale doesn't know why he need to cover his eyes but he demand a birthday gift he want

Cale has a feeling that he will not touch him more than he already is before he is in legal age and Cale want him

So now that he already 18, he will get him

Even though Cale has to cover his eyes during their time rolling on the bed, Cale can still feels the loves and care in every touch and trust

(Oh, right, the timeline is 4 months before canon event!)

Since that night, he frequently visit him in his chamber at night

With a certain way of manipulating mana, and enough fucking, dragon can even make a man pregnant

So, yes. Yes. That's what he's been doing and Cale has no idea about that until much later when he found out that he is pregnant after experiencing a morning sickness for the first time

The first time Cale see his appearance was when after he took two blows from Choi Han

Before Han can beat him more, a potent killing intent surrounding him, make him freeze

Even the Molans who watch also step out, unconsciously, while looking around in alert

The only one who act normal is Cale who spat at Han to get off of him

He scowl and look at the dark and empty alley, saying "I'm fine. Stop it."

Of course the other three look at him briefly before focus back to the alley, where the killing intent from

Cale shift his attention to the Molans and told them to fuck off and they are no longer welcome at Henituse

When his focus is on something else, he feels a familiar heat and arms around him

Cale is shocked because he never shown himself before

He try to look but at his face but he keep him hidden in his arms, Cale can feels a strong healing magic surrounding himself and found himself relax

There is only silent but Cale shiver because, although he can't feels it, of the killing intent he emit

And the next thing he know afte blinking once is he is in a place full of unique plants and his face cupped gently by a big and warm hands of someone he finally see the face of

#og!cale henituse #cale henituse #trash of the counts family #au #the dragon can be anyone beside Han #sorry han-ie #you are needed for the plot :(