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arabellavernierwrites · 10 months

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hiiii i love your work so far and you have such an easy to read and chill writing style i love itttt

idk how to do requests lol but ok:

would you do a super fluffy spencer reid x reader during season 5 when he’d been shot in the knee (or maybe he’s injured in another way i don’t mind) but he’s having trouble showering bc it hurts and it’s difficult and the reader basically washes his hair for him? and idk if you want to extend it maybe they could cuddle up and watch a movie or something? idk i thought it was cute hehe

nothing nsfw just a lil angst and mostly fluff

thank you so much !! :)

wash day. s.r.

summary : after being shot in the knee , spencer had been struggling to take a shower. in a moment of desperation , he lets you help him.

word count : 1669

warnings : mentions of injury , mentions of pain , mentions of fighting unconsciousness , descriptions of self-loathing , suggestions to nudity (bath)

a/n : hi guys ! thank you so much for sending in another request , it really brightens my day knowing you guys want to read my writing , and like it enough to want to send requests ! so thank you for being so good to me and offering so much kindness. i want to thank @c-m-stuff for being supportive of literally everything i post , so go celebrate maya’s 100 followers for mood boards , promoting your own fics , and headcannons (ends july 10) ! and thank you so much to @kaitlynpcallmebeepme for sending me such sweet and encouraging words the other day , she has so much amazing works that you have to check out. i cannot thank you all enough for being so wonderful to me. my requests are still open , so please send more ! and thank you to all that send requests in ! hope you have an amazing incredible wonderful day. love you guys !

you returned from work to a fairly quiet household. not much of your usual setting was disrupted, aside from a few of spencer’s things lying around.

a few weeks ago, he had been shot in the knee, causing him to hang around at home a lot more than he typically would. partially because hotch told him off every time he spent even 5 minutes exerting more energy than he needed, and partially because he loved spending every second with you. even though it was something you were sure he wouldn’t ever admit, his heart swelled every time you looked after him.

aside from a few misplaced items, spencer was nowhere to be found. a cause for concern, you decided to check the bedroom to see if he had hit the hay early that day, only to be met with an empty bed.

you jumped as a loud clatter of metal rang out in the bathroom behind you, “spencer? are you alright, sweetheart?”

the shower timidly turned on, the water pattering off the tile below, muffling the sound of his voice, “i’m alright”.

spencer didn’t often lie, he didn’t have to. he knew that whatever fib he told wouldn’t stand a chance against his truthful tone. which is why you knew he wasn’t alright.

“can i come in?” you asked sweetly, placing your hand on the door knob.

“of course,” he muttered quietly, defeat evident in his voice.

you opened the bathroom door to spencer seated on the edge of the tub, his crutches fallen to the ground, his shirt drenched, and his hair partially wet. he looked up at you through his lashes, a hint of sadness and a plea for help swirled within his gaze.

“what happened?” you asked, sincerely, taking a seat next to him.

his lower lip threatened to quiver as his head turned to the floor, embarrassment not allowing him to meet your eyes, “i feel gross”.

you rubbed a hand up and down his back, the wet fabric clinging to his skin, “what do you mean?”

“my hair feels gross, my body feels gross,” he shook his head softly, “i just wanted to shower. but i can’t”.

“it’s difficult with the leg, isn’t it?” you questioned, he nodded his head.

“i tried earlier when you were at work, but this happened,” he pushed his hair off of his forehead, showing a small, red welt near his temple, “the movement is painful too”.

“my sweet thing,” you tutted, “did you clean it?”

he shook his head, the shame and frustration of not being able to care for himself returning. insecurity building with each day of failed attempts at getting clean. feeling uncomfortable, gross, and unattractive made his mind hazy with self-repulsion.

“it just hurts,” he whispered, “it’s too painful to do by myself”.

he thought back to the first time he tried to shower on his own. he bumped his knee while trying to take his clothes off. the pain was so excruciating he spent several minutes fighting unconsciousness, gripping the bathroom countertop to keep himself from collapsing on the floor, hot tears streaming down his cheeks as he breathed deeply. he spent the rest of the day in bed, his head buried into the pillow, desperate to dull the ache that seemed to consume his entire body.

“well, i’ll help,” you stood, turning to face spencer, “let’s get you a nice bath”.

you reached out, assisting him in getting up from the bathtub to sit on the lid of the toilet seat.

“is it alright if i undress you?” you asked, holding onto the bottom of his sopping shirt. he nodded, allowing you to take full control.

you gently peeled his shirt over his head, tossing it into the laundry basket next to you. his shoulders were hunched over, clearly experiencing some discomfort with being shirtless when he felt so self-conscious about his current, un-showered state.

you knelt down in front of him, helping unclip and remove the mechanical brace that had been keeping his leg at a slight angle. it was placed on the bathroom counter as you took your time removing all of his remaining clothing, needing to maneuver a few times to rid him of his pants and undergarments.

despite being as careful as possible, he was full of whines, groans, and pained whimpers.

“i need a second,” he quietly panted, discomfort firing off throughout his body.

when he was ready, you braced each other’s arms, taking your time as he struggled with his balance getting into the bath. wobbling, nervous, and gripping you tightly, spencer had finally been able to get in there for the first time in days.

“look at you,” you cheered, celebrating his victory as he failed to hide a smile, “i’m gonna have your back face the faucet”.

he grimaced as you helped lower him to sit in the tub, his pain evident in the white-knuckled grip he had on your hands.

“i’ll be back in just a second, okay?” you hurried into the kitchen, grabbing a cup from the cabinet, and a small towel from the hall closet.

you placed the cloth over his bandaged knee, being as cautious as you could to not touch it, “i don’t want this to get wet”.

spencer looked up at you with appreciation for your kind heart. his sweet brown eyes with his long lashes, you couldn’t help yourself from leaning in for a kiss.

“i love your hair,” you smiled, filling the cup with water from the running faucet behind spencer, “you have the softest boy hair ever”.

spencer chuckled, “what does that mean?”

you leaned him back slightly, pouring the contents of cup on his head, angling it to not get any water in his eyes, “i feel like guys always have really coarse hair. sure, it might be healthy, but it isn’t soft like girl hair”.

“you have much experience with guy hair?” he asked, humor evident in his tone.

“not necessarily,” you squeezed yourself a handful of shampoo, “girl hair on the other hand”.

spencer laughed, for the first time in days it wasn’t feigned or forced, “i know. you can’t keep your hands off penelope, emily, or jj when they visit”.

“part of girlhood, i guess,” you shrugged, “we spend our recesses in elementary school braiding each other’s hair, help each other curl our hair for middle school dances, and eventually completely fry it together in high school”.

“the only two people that touched my hair before you were my mom and that one guy at supercuts,” spencer closed his eyes as you emulsified the shampoo at his roots, massaging in the frothy suds.

“i kinda miss the elevated bowl cut,” you teased.

spencer groaned, trying hard not to roll his eyes, “i don’t”.

you rinsed his head clean of the soap.

“when you used to gel it back for work? super hot,” you reached for your pricey conditioner, an expense you liked treating yourself to every once in a while.

“when we watched all of those black and white films together,” he reminisced, “that was my homage to gregory peck. or at least my attempt at it”.

“it was cute,” you nodded, “i really liked the glasses with it too”.

you rubbed the conditioner together in your hands, fingering through his long locks to free them from any knots that may have tangled themselves together from the shampoo.

his body relaxed itself, no longer so tense from the awkwardness of trying to get into the bathtub.

you appreciated this moment of silence. just you and the man you love more than anything. something as simple as washing his hair being the highlight of your day, solely because it’s time spent with him. a simple conversation between the two of you enough to make your heart swell the way it did when you first met.

“we’re almost done,” you rinsed the remaining conditioner from his ends.

as the last cup of water rid his hair of any product, you prepared yourself to help him up.

“we did it!” you cheered squeezing out any excess water from his dripping hair.

the thought of getting him back on the floor safely was daunting. it was difficult before, but now everything was sopping too.

you were slow and careful, assisting him in getting back on his feet. you gripped him harder than necessary, worried he was gonna come crashing to the ground and split his knee back open. your brows furrowed in concentration, both of his feet coming to rest on the bath mat.

you grabbed a towel from the rack as he caught his breath, unable to hide the pain from his face.

gently, you dried him off, wrapping the cloth around his waist as you ordered him to sit back down on the lid of the toilet seat. he panted in victory, his first shower in nearly a week had been completed successfully, all thanks to you.

“you did a great job,” you grabbed the other towel, draping it over his head.

placing both hands down, you rubbed in circles. drying his hair fairly quickly, you tossed the towel off to this side, landing in a crumpled bunch at the bottom of the laundry basket.

spencer smiled up at you through the hair that hung in front of his face, “thank you”.

“of course,” you swept it out of his eyes, “let’s get you into some comfy clothes”.

as spencer sat on the edge of the bed in his plaid pants, you were planted cross-legged behind him, hair brush in hand. you took your time, tender strokes through his nearly shoulder-length hair. brushing and brushing again, he progressively slumped over, tiredness trying to take over.

“how about we call it a night?” you asked, turning him to lay down next to you.

“okay,” he answered quietly, pulling you into his arms as you turned off the bedside lamp, “thank you for your help today”.

you grinned, giving him a quick kiss, “anything for you”.

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lovejosephquinn · 1 year

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hii! can i request a joe quinn x reader? something super angsty, maybe where the reader wants to break up and he refuses to accept it and is like begging her to stay?

I want to make this sting, I apologise in advance

Oh and by the way, I'm sorry if my angst isn't great, I'm not used to writing it lmao

Read Part 2 Here. ◀◀◀

This had been a long awaited battle, Joe had finished filming a week early somewhere in the states and you'd been so excited to have him back by your side, you'd not seen your boyfriend for a couple of months, arranging a date night as soon as he'd got back as a surprise, planning everything, making it special. Then came the excuses. Another couple of weeks went by and there was still no sign of him returning home.

'I've got to stay a little longer, love. I'm sorry.'

'I won't be coming home this week. I'll call you soon.'

'I'm sorry I've not called, I've been so busy.'

'Sorry I forgot to text you today.'

And chances were when he did text you on the rare occasion, you were fast asleep due to the time difference. This was unlike Joe, he'd usually be blowing up your phone and that's how you knew something clearly wasn't right. The list became endless, the calls and the messages became less, every reply became more blunt and it had really gotten to you, it was like he didn't care anymore, the pushing away took you to the edge.

This was a solid relationship of two years falling into a dark abyss, then came the day when you hit the roof. Scrolling through twitter, you came across a post on Joe's hashtag. It pictured him stood with a girl in a familiar pub in London looking rather cosy, not fan cosy, personally cosy. "What the fuck?" your raised voice echoed across the walls of your flat as you sat up from where you laid on the sofa, screaming internally at the picture. You knew it was recent because Joe was wearing the leather jacket you'd bought him for his birthday, had he been back in London without telling you? How, what, when?

You tried to call him instantly, no answer. Shock.

You threw your phone onto the coffee table, sat twisting your silver promise ring that Joe got you which had remained on your middle finger for almost a year, tears strained your eyes and a million thoughts rapidly shot through your mind, your heart beating twice it's normal rate. So you decided to go to his flat to check, you could've had this all wrong, for the thin ice that the relationship was wobbling on at this moment, you'd seriously hoped you had.

You sat at your steering wheel, staring up to the window of Joe's flat. The light was on, not much sign of life from what you could see from the high up view but needless to say, there was definitely someone there. As you took the hasty steps up to his front door, you knocked and within 10 seconds the door answered. There he was.

"Y/N, I didn't expect you."

"Could say the same." you folded your arms, tapping your fingers against it.

"I wanted to surprise you but I-"

"How long have you been back?" you flat out interrupted.

"Not long, love. I was going to call you." That's not the answer you were looking for.

"Are you going to let me in?" You moved yourself closer to the front door and Joe instantly moved it fully open, gesturing you inside.

Joe tried to envelope you in a hug, simply like nothing had happened but before you reciprocated you wanted the full truth to be out in the open. "Can I ask you something?" The words shot out of your mouth before you could even think.

"Sure love, what's on your mind?"

"Can you explain this?" You pulled out your phone with a print screen of the picture you'd witnessed earlier on.

Joe sighed, he could've lied but was quickly realising you knew the honest truth.

"I've been back a couple of days, I was catching up with an old friend who was on the same flight back as me."

"Are you for real? So you didn't think to call me, text me let me know you'd landed home safely, instead you decide to go have some drinks with this 'old friend'? Do you expect me to believe this crap?"

You pushed Joe out of arms reach, he tried to step back forward but you moved back when he did.

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Is that all you have to say?!" You shouted back at him, your blood was boiling and your tears were filling under your eyelids, staining your eyes making them glisten. Joe said nothing.

"Weeks Joseph. Weeks I've gone without barely hearing a thing. Weeks I've gone without hearing that you miss me or that you love me, weeks I've gone without clearly not being thought about. That's not my Joey, that's a fucking stranger." You scoffed at his inability to make a sentence. "I'm done."

"So that's it, you're letting go?" Joe protested, halting you and standing in your way from letting you walking out the front door.

"There's nothing left to let go of, I've been trying to hold on to hope for weeks."

"So what did you come for?" Joe's voice hitched.

"The truth and I got it with pretty much no explanation, but there's none needed now." Your tears streamed down your face, you wiped them away attempting to stay strong, also striving to get Joe out of the way so you could leave, but he'd become like he was made of iron, he wasn't letting you go now.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for what I've done. Nothing happened with her if that's what you're thinking, I'd never hurt you like that."

"Well I'm glad you didn't and honestly? I believe it. But what's not okay is the ignorance, the waste of two years of my life spent with someone who I believed thought the world of me but instead as I said proved to be more of a stranger this last month."

"I have a job to do Y/N."

"You'd done your fucking job, god knows what you were doing or where you were swanning off too, but it surely was enough to keep your attention to not be able to take 5 minutes out of your day to let me, your girlfriend know you were busy. I was the last to know everything and that's extremely shit of you." Joe attempted one last time, lunging forward to kiss you, as if that'd make it all better. That was when you slapped him square in the jaw. His hand caught the sting, looking down to the floor, his eyes returning sorrowfully to yours.

"Fuck you." you grimaced.

"Y/N, I love you, please can we work this out?"

"Correction Joseph, you loved me, there's a difference."

You could almost pinpoint the moment you saw Joe's heart break, mirroring your own shattered organ.

"That's not fair, I still love you as much as I did before I left. I'm begging you. I can't lose you." Joe fell to his knees, gripping onto your hands as he began to sob, the noises he mustered were just low whimpers, his brown eyes burned through yours, his bottom lip trembling.

"Then why did you let yourself push me away?" You tried to ignore his regret, keeping to your guns and not letting him win this.

"Because I'm a fucking fool that's why."

"You can say that again." You knew you shouldn't have, but the sarcastic bark of laughter that erupted from your lips was something you couldn't help per his last reply.

"Actions have consequences, you broke my heart and now I'm breaking yours right back. If that makes me a bad person, so be it. You want me? Fight for me."

"What do you think I'm doing right now? I'm on my knees for you Y/N, please don't leave me. I'll make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much."

"Then why did you lie to me, why did you ignore me?"

"I just got caught up in being offered to see the city I was in by one of the cast members I worked with, he kindly did it and then I had to do a couple of interviews and press. I should've been more clear."

"And then lying to me, you've been back here at least a few days Joe, why didn't you let me know?"

"I was going too."

"But you didn't."

Joe shook his head, it hung lowly to the ground now like a child being told off by a grown up.

"No I didn't."

You managed to rip your hands from his grip, taking off your promise ring and throwing it down onto his lap.

"Y/N, your ring, no! Don't!"

"Step one is admittance Joe, step two is acceptance. I need to sleep on this shit. I love you but you've seriously hurt me, something I never expected of you."

"Baby, please." He tried to reach for you again.

"Don't. You know where I'll be. If you seriously want to save this relationship, if you're really sorry. You'll be at my flat tomorrow with a full apology, a full reasoning and full knowledge that you'll never do this to me again then I might slowly start to forgive you. As for the ring, it was a promise you'd love me forever and that's a direct quote from the man I thought I knew."

"I won't do this again."

"Actions speak louder than words, Quinn. Prove it."

You had no more to say, at least for tonight. You waltzed past him, leaving him flat on his knees, he didn't fight back to keep you in his presence this time; truly defeated. Bellowing into his hands, the last thing you hear was him call out your name before walking out the door. For good? Who knew. Even though he'd done wrong. You still loved him.

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sirowsky-stories · 3 months

Text

The Old Prince

Part 10

Author's Note: I had hoped to post this on Friday, but a pesky work-weekend got in the way. Also, this was one of those chapters that never wanted to end! Which is why it's easily the biggest one yet.

Description: Your confrontation with Simon reveals some very big obstacles. (Sorry, it's a bit short, I don't wanna spoil anything.)

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Monster Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, AU fic, obviously Halloween themed, reader cusses. Smut. And a kinda weird situation occurring in relation to the smut. Word Count: 9862 Author's Masterlist

He reacts to the name as if he too remembers it, and somewhere deep within him, a rumbling which could rival even the toughest thunder starts to build. It’s so immense that the very air vibrates with it, and when he opens his jaws to release it, you can hardly believe what you’re seeing when actual lightning accompanies the flame of magmatic intensity, destroying trees and unnatural creatures alike everywhere it goes.

Then, just as your hope rekindles with the apparent shift of odds into your favor, the dying flames reveal that the spirits have finally arrived. But the reason for their tardiness becomes painfully obvious when you realize they’ve all been corrupted. No longer the lightly glowing figures of mystical energies, they now appear to be solid, straining under their own weight, looking as though something’s tried to rip them apart, leaving strangely thick black smoke pluming out of their open wounds.

Positioning themselves in a circle around the two of you, their new master commands them to destroy, and as if they’ve become puppets on strings, they obey without hesitation. The polar bear, Ursa, is supposed to be able to freeze things at will, but her powers have also been mutated, so when she tries to create frozen spikes, like spears out of the ground, what happens instead is that she cleaves the ground, creating massive crevasses from which more roots and evil beings spring.

Lupus normally channels the power of the earth to make things grow, and she still does, except there’s only darkness to feed. Only the destructive and malicious beings brought to life by the Darkling are aided by her efforts, doubling in size in mere seconds. Meanwhile, Caelum is generating multiple twisters where she would ordinarily only manage to spark sudden microbursts for a few minutes at a time. The butterfly is somehow creating toxic spores where she would usually just be able to pollinate anything that grows.

How Octopus is managing on land you have no idea, but she’s covering everything she touches with some kind of corrosive grey slime, which is especially bad considering the area she can affect with her size and the reach of her tentacles. The bat’s normal power is giving sight to those who wander in the dark, but she’s now creating clouds made of soot, removing all visibility wherever she flies. Although she’s struggling so badly against the forces of gravity, usually not able to affect her much at all, that she’s barely able to get off the ground.

Scarabaeus is supposed to be able to move through any solid structures, but her corrupted form is instead incapable of remaining solid at all, changing from liquid to gaseous form at random, which also has the very disturbing effect of leaving anything she passes through, completely disemboweled. As for the deer, Cervus, who’s original power is the absorption of both energy and matter, she seems to be in a state of continuous implosion, like a star perpetually about to collapse, sucking everything into its core to be crushed.

In your human form, you’ve never met the spirit of summer before, although you do know her from your other life. She’s easily the largest of the land-living spirits, rivalling Oberyn’s green dragon, although her current mass is much more concentrated than his was. Also, she wouldn’t normally have much mass at all. But tonight, her might has been transformed from a benign gigantic horse, capable of bringing warmth even to the coldest of places, into a burning demon, seemingly made of oil.

They attack without any coordination, or pre-determined plan of any kind, it seems, coming at Tyrannus from all angles at once. His size puts them at a disadvantage since only the flying ones can reach further up his body than his legs, but they’re unfortunately also highly tolerant to his flame, even with the lightning. His scales are thick, though, shielding him from their mutated powers, leaving him mostly concerned with keeping you out of their reach.

You know that even Lux has never witnessed all the spirits succumb to the dark one’s power before, because it’s never been allowed to get this far. But Simon’s clever deceit must’ve blinded them until it was already too late. Which begs the question: Why are you not turning dark as well? If the Darkling can have such a crippling effect on all the others, how is it you’re not feeling so much as a tingle in your fingertips?

It could be your connection to Oberyn, since love is still more powerful than anything, but the more you think about it, the more it seems like it’s your human form which shields you from his influence. Strangely, it makes a lot of sense. Because ordinary humans can’t see or be directly harmed by spirits, so logically, your alter ego should be impervious to his manipulation.

However, your body might not be safe from his powers or the spirits’ ability to cause you serious physical harm. You have demonstrated that you’re capable of incredible healing, but you don’t know how far that reaches. Even Oberyn isn’t completely immortal, so it stands to reason you might have a few limitations as well.

He moves incredibly fast despite his size, having lost none of his usual agility since his body is still the same snakelike shape. So, even though his enemies are repeatedly attacking him from all sides, he manages to evade them while striking both punches and flames at them, slowing them down if not seriously damaging them. Until Caelum manages to slip past his limbs and teeth, using one of her twisters as camouflage.

Staying in your blind spot, she sinks her claws into your back before you’ve had a chance to notice her, and aside from the fact that having your skin ripped open is always terribly painful, it seems that the black oily stuff which covers them all is also either poisonous or acidic when it enters your blood. Because holy fuck, does it sting. You’re already laying down as flat over the base of the dragon’s neck as you can manage, but the sharp, lasting pain makes you lose your grip just as Oberyn turns sharply to the left.

“Kaivalya!” you hear a thunderous roar exclaim while you’re falling through the air, which confuses you.

He can’t speak. Not as himself or as Tyrannus, his mouth and throat are incapable of forming words, so how did that just happen?

It doesn’t matter much anymore when you realize you’re falling much further than what should be ground level, which must mean you’re careering into one of the many crevasses Ursa’s made in her attempts to unbalance the dragon. Your front is facing up, so you can see the darkened sky as you continue to fall, until you drop far enough that the edges of the abyss come into view, crawling with roots and other malicious things, feeding off the conflict and the violence above.

Then suddenly, a bright white tail is breaking through the increasing darkness around you. It effortlessly breaks through the meager defenses put up by the wormlike appendages of this evil Earth, reaching you with such speed and forcefulness that it sends you hurtling upwards instead, as though you were a tennis ball and his tail the racket. And once you’re back above ground, easily reaching a thousand feet height at the crescent before you begin to fall back down, all three of the flying spirits are converging on you.

A twister forms right beside you, sucking you in and then spitting you out even higher up, before Vespertilio sends a cloud of absolute darkness around you. You know you’re far enough up that Oberyn has to fly to reach you, and if he was, his wings would create a thunderous sound as they beat against the air and the atmosphere, and you can’t hear anything like that. But you can hear the rapid, strained flaps of the bat’s wings as it struggles to get to you.

The darkness is so thick you can’t see your hands in front of your face, but you can feel that you’re once again falling and without seeing, you have no way of knowing how long it’ll take before you hit the ground. Can you survive a broken neck? You don’t know. Just like you don’t know what happens if you get torn to pieces by the spirits. You might simply revert to your spirit form, but then that would likely make you corruptible again. And maybe that’s exactly what Simon is after. Maybe all this is just about darkening you, because if he can do that, then there won’t be any more hope for the world.

A sound reaches you from somewhere below, and then a strong huff of warm air disperses the cloud underneath you, letting you see that you’re still hundreds of feet from the ground. But you also see a pair of bright blue eyes, which then quickly disappear from your view when the largest jaws ever to exist on this planet are opened wide, right beneath you.

“Trust me,” the same rumbling voice as before sounds, even though his mouth hasn’t moved.

But it’s him. Either inside your head or somehow speaking to you through the ether, but you know without a doubt it’s your Oberyn. And you do trust him. Which is why you let yourself fall forwards, straightening your arms out in front of you, turning your body into a spear so you’ll fall quicker. It’s not without fear you pass his rows of giant teeth, falling paralleled to his tongue and heading right for his throat, held perfectly straight to facilitate your journey into his stomach, but he must have a plan.

He closes his jaws in the same moment you reach the bottom of his mouth, and everything becomes pitch black. You can feel your body continue to fall, even as the walls of his throat begin to close around you, slowing your descent surprisingly gently. And before you know it, you’re at the bottom. Although, it’s not how you might’ve imagined a dragon’s stomach might look, if you’d ever had the crazy idea to imagine being swallowed by one.

There’s no fluid in there at all, to help break down your components and extract the nutrients from your body. And it’s anything but dark. Just like with humans, his stomach sits adjacent to his lungs, so when the fire is sparked, his entire torso is lit up internally. You can only see the shine, nothing of what else is actually inside of him, but it’s kinda beautiful.

There’s an intricate and very symmetrical network of veins within the lining of the stomach, and when the fire illuminates them, the heat within his blood makes them glow. And yet, the temperature inside remains unchanged. Probably around forty degrees Celsius, feverishly warm for a human, which is how Oberyn has always seemed to you. However, the sounds he makes are even louder in here, so when he suddenly roars, you’re instantly on your knees and doing your best to cover your ears, hoping your eardrums haven’t already burst.

“Stop!” you try to yell when it never seems to end, but you can’t even hear yourself over the deafening vibrations.

Apparently though, he can, because he immediately goes quiet, and then that deep voice finds you again.

“Are you alright, my lady?”

You must be hearing him inside your mind somehow, because even if you haven’t already gone deaf, your ears can’t possibly have recovered enough for you to hear normally yet.

“No!” you half-shriek, confirming at least partial damage to your auditory system because you can hardly hear your own voice. “Keep it down, you just blew my ears out!”

“Oh… My apologies. In my defense, I have never done this before.”

“No shit…”

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

He knows you will be safe within him as this much older dragon ate only stone and magma to support his being when there was no other life on this world yet. It has no means of digesting human tissues and bones, nor the need for it. From the beginning of this battle, the spirits have aimed almost exclusively at you, leading him to the conclusion that Simon has no interest in him, merely in acquiring the last free spirit and completing the Darkling curse.

If this happens, the entire planet will become as the North American continent in a matter of minutes. All of it consumed by death, darkness and despair, with no hope or end in sight. And without Lux to bring back the sun, it will likely remain so for thousands of years. Tyrannus is too powerful even for all of them combined to vanquish, but Oberyn is equally unable to annihilate Simon while the spirits fight for him, so until the two of you can discover how to liberate The Decem from the dark one’s sickening grasp, the best he can do is keep you safe.

Gambling on the notion that these debased beings all seem unwilling to stray too far away from the group, he remains airborne after swallowing you, intent on leaving the scene as quickly as he can. Of course, Caelum, Vespertilio and Papilio do not approve of this plan, and follow as he departs due east, back towards the coast.

Their perverted powers are thrown recklessly in his path, the desperation to not disappoint their master now the single goal of their altered reality. But their quarry is not only much larger than before. He is also armored with scales so thick not even the pressure and heat of the planet’s core could undo him, leaving their mediocre displays of strength little more than an irritation to his ascent.

His theory about their tendency to remain with the group prove accurate when the three flying spirits veer off and return to the blackened landscape before he’s even left the American continent. This thought, however, offers him no peace. For they are stronger as a group, and the longer they remain so, they will fuel and feed the growing energies of hate and depravity until it eventually transforms them completely.

They are still only darkened versions of their original selves, but if Simon has his claws embedded within them for long enough, he will turn their hearts to stone, and then they shall truly become the monstrosities of men’s most feared nightmares. If this comes to pass, they will never again be returned to their former glory, no matter how much light you might shine upon them. And without them, the world will never truly recover.

He heads northeast across the Atlantic, flying fast and very high now that you are travelling safely hidden from the extreme temperatures and lack of oxygen. The sky is remarkably clear once he leaves the ashes and unnatural darkness of America behind, and he wishes that you could see the beauty of the world from the thermosphere, nine kilometers above the surface. As Lux, you probably have, but as a human, you never could.

And there is something truly beautiful within such fragility.

It doesn’t take long once he returns to the more familiar troposphere, before he is joined by yet more man-made flying machines, although this time, they wisely keep their distance and merely follow his journey, rather than attempt another confrontation. Oberyn is glad for this, because aside from the fact that he does not wish to harm them, they may also become most important to the survival of the world, as even their relatively small firepower could prove crucial within the larger picture of this war.

So, he makes no attempt to frighten them, flying calmly even as they dare a closer look. Despite their oxygen masks, he can see their eyes quite clearly, and when one of the pilots pulls up alongside him, he can see how she tries to measure him from nose-tip to tail-end, raising her eyebrows in disbelief at whatever number she settles on. He estimates roughly five hundred yards himself.

These are British RAF fighters, which must mean that word of his existence has spread since his latest encounter with such crafts. Although, they all probably think there are two dragons at this point, as there is little resemblance between Tyrannus and his comparably puny longtime green alter ego.

Whatever they believe is irrelevant. So long as he must not fight both humans and dark souls the world’s armies may create their own explanations for his presence. He requires only that they act to protect their lands, as even a small grenade lobbed at the spreading weeds of death will slow their advancement somewhat. For now, the darkness is contained on the North American continent, unable to spread further until the air and the oceans have also been sufficiently infected. But it is only a matter of time.

As he crosses over the British Isles, a warm updraft fills his wings, allowing him to soar effortlessly. Which is good since just one flap of his enormous wings will displace enough air to potentially create massive wind-shifts on the ground below. The warm air sits lower in the atmosphere, however, leaving him quite visible to anyone who happens to look high enough, and given the sudden changes in the sounds he can hear from down there, at least some people do spot him.

To that end, the fighter planes are no help, as their noisy engines easily draw people’s eyes upwards, but again, this is largely irrelevant. Unless the two of you can discover how to defeat Simon, these people will know of worse things than dragons soon enough. Dodging numerous commercial jets at various altitudes as he crosses directly above Manchester, Oberyn then leaves Great Britain behind, heading for the quieter skies of the Nordic countries.

The RAF apparently are not cleared to continue following him into Norwegian airspace, veering off well before he crosses over land again. For a moment, he amuses himself by imagining the communication between these pilots and Norwegian air traffic control, because he could picture how it must have sounded if they requested permission to continue following a dragon into Norway’s domain.

Once certain he is alone, he finds a nice large mountaintop with a solid flat surface and sets down as gently as he can to avoid kicking off a rockslide. You have been quiet since he accidentally broke your eardrums, and he hopes you will have healed already, but he worries that the injury might have nothing to do with your lack of interaction.

“Valya?” he prods, keeping his volume low, and he can feel how you begin to move inside of him.

“Yeah?” you reply, and you sound mostly tired.

“We are safe for now. Would you like to come out?”

“That depends… Would I be going back up, or continuing further down?”

“Up, of course, my dear.”

“Okay, just tell me what to do,” you sigh, but it is clear from your tone that you were only asking about the direction as a way of relieving tension.

“I would prefer not to regurgitate you, but if I lay my head down and keep my body standing, you should be able to crawl out on your own.”

“Alright, give it a try.”

He does as he has suggested, and then experience the peculiar sensation of what a human might compare to an ant trying to crawl out of their throat. It tickles, but not enough to cause him discomfort, and before long he can feel your footsteps pattering over his tongue and then climbing past the row of teeth on his lower jaw, before a muted thud lets him know you have hit the ground. Closing his mouth and raising his head enough that he can see the ground directly before him, he finds you brushing snow off your pants, and you appear unharmed.

“How are your ears?” he asks, and you stop moving to meet his eyes.

“Better. But how am I hearing you? Is this some kind of telepathy?”

“No, not quite. As I understand it, this is only possible between the two of us, and only because of the unique bond we now share.”

“Right. Which bond, though? I can think of at least two.”

“Love and Tyrannus?” he guesses, to which you nod, so he elaborates. “All these years, you’ve carried the white dragon within you, unknowingly becoming one with it, so familiar with its energy that you didn’t even realize it when you began to feed it to me. Because to your heart, there is no distinction. We are the beings you love, and we love you equally.”

“Do you feel different? I mean, like there’s two of you in there?”

“Tyrannus has not been alive for eons. He is only energy now. But I do feel some things so deeply engraved into his soul they cannot be erased. His anger… and his hope. Mere echoes now, and yet, so undeniably clear. He was truly mighty.”

“So are you, Oberyn,” you say softly, smiling slightly as you admire his new form, before you seem to will yourself to return to darker matters. “Unfortunately, we have less pleasant things to talk about, starting with where we are.”

“I believe it’s called the Scandes. The mountain range between Norway and Sweden.”

“Okay. And why are we here?”

“Because we need to think, and this place is quiet. This far north there’s hardly any air traffic and aside from the occasional hiker, not a lot of people. This time of year, it is a bit cold, but nothing I cannot shield you from. I have wandered these hills and mountains many times in my life, and they have always helped to soothe my worries.”

“I believe you. I feel calmer already. And it does seem prudent to steer clear of the States until we at least have a plan.”

You cross your arms over your waist but then remember that you are still wearing the same torn clothes as before, and this seems to deflate your energy somehow.

“So, can you still change back, or will all that,” you gesture to his general enormity, “not fit within the human form anymore?”

“It will. Although I am hesitant to leave us so vulnerable. My human form is still the weakest part of me.”

“And who’s gonna come after us here?”

“It is the threats one doesn’t see coming that are the most dangerous. But I see your point.”

Strangely, it feels exactly the same to return to this shape despite the extreme change he has undergone. The dragon folds away as fluently and easily as it always has. But it does throw him for a moment, to suddenly lose the higher perspective, and he hadn’t considered just how much better Tyrannus’ senses are. He feels almost blind at first, even though his own senses are still far superior to ordinary humans.

“Are you alright?” you ask, noticing his disorientation.

“Yes. Just slightly jarred. The difference in size is a bit befuddling at first.”

“I’m sure it is, but at least I can hug you now,” you say while closing the distance between you and wrapping your arms around him in a firm embrace.

“Oh, I have missed this,” he admits while he mirrors you, breathing in your scent once more and relishing in the feeling of your body pressed against his.

In that regard, there is no comparison. Nothing ever feels as good as your skin against his own, no matter how incredible the dragon’s senses are.

“It’s hard to believe it was still just this morning that we woke up together in your bed. I mean, we’ve been jumping between time zones, so the actual hours might be more, but it’s still the same date.”

“Indeed. How strange that everything seemed so simple then,” he observes, recalling the hours he spent watching you sleep, thinking of nothing but you and how you make him feel.

His entire world had fit into that bed in those precious, serene hours.

“Fucking Simon…” you growl after a minute, pulling away from him as your stress once again increases. “I can’t believe he manipulated all the spirits. I mean, I know they’re emotionally driven, but aren’t they supposed to have better instincts than to be fooled by a Darkling?”

“Well, no, actually,” he replies simply, to which you seem quite perplexed, so he continues. “The only way for any spirit to discern the presence of a Darkling is by the effect it has on the world. To find the being itself, only its capacity to see and interact with them is what provides them a definitive answer. They can immediately sense if darkness is tainting the world, and where, but they rely on evil to reveal itself, as it always does.”

“Wait… that would mean Simon must’ve understood more about them from the start than any other dark one before him, to let him use their blind spots against them like that. But I don’t get it. He said he’d been practicing, using his powers, honing them for a long time. How could he do that without them reacting to it, at some point?”

“How he knew about his powers I cannot fathom. No Darkling is born with this understanding. However, if he discovered a way to use them without allowing them to infect anything, then it is possible The Decem were unable to detect it.”

“Not even Caelum? She can’t just sense darkness in the air somehow?” you wonder, getting frustrated enough to start pacing around him, but remaining close since his warmth is all that shields you from the Nordic winter chill.

“No. Only if that power manages to dilute the air, as it now has over the American continent,” he answers, and you throw your arms out to the sides in a gesture which he interprets to be burgeoning anger at Simon’s apparent advantages.

He understands your feelings, especially since you cannot recall any of the details surrounding the spirits and their capabilities, but unfortunately, your foe is the very worst this world has to offer. As much as he wishes to shield you, he must also make sure you realize exactly what it is you are up against.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but the clouds there are no longer clouds, just dead spores and ashes, remnants of nature now reduced to particles of death. And once he gathers enough of them, he can send those clouds across the seas to infect other parts of the world. In time, his evil will turn all oceans into vast fields of mud and oil, impossible to travel over or through, filled with the same mutated monstrosities we saw over there. And eventually, the air will be so thick with these ashes that no sunlight will reach us anymore, at which point… salvation will no longer be possible.”

You stop pacing then, once more wrapping your arms around yourself as if the winds have sent a chill through you, despite the heat he radiates towards you. There is fear in your eyes as you are probably imagining the world his words are painting for you, but you bite it back, determined to find a solution.

“So, what can we do? How do we stop him? Because I doubt we can save the spirits without first freeing them from his darkness.”

“You are correct. Only the destruction of the Darkling will end his reign. Unfortunately, aside from the spirits, I know of nothing which can kill him,” he admits, but you are undeterred by this.

“You were there when they killed the last one, right?” you recall, to which he merely nods since he can guess where you are going with this. “So, how did they do it?”

Oberyn has avoided visiting the details of this memory for a very long time, but you are right to ask this question, as even though the spirits are not going to be able to help you this time, their methods might reveal some useful information.

“It happened nearly four millennia ago. He was a simple farmer, a good man by all accounts. Until a conflict in their settlement broke out and his wife and two children became the victims of circumstance.”

“The Darkling had a family?” you skeptically question.

“Unlike Simon, they are usually unaware of the evil within until something happens to them which is so painful that their souls are torn apart. This unleashes the darkness and forever destroys the person they once were. This man went from a loving husband and father to a vicious beast, holding nothing back and sparing no one from his rage. He turned the lands upon which he had lived from a jungle teeming with life, into a pit of death into which countless thousands of people and animals were pulled and tortured to death. He had no wish to corrupt them or turn them into evil beings, he merely wished for all things to die as painfully as anything can. Today, the place is known as the Lonar crater of southern India, but it was neither made by a meteor strike, nor as long ago as science estimates.”

“His evil created a crater?”

“When living things rooted to the ground are tainted with darkness, they spread it through the bedrock in search of other things to infect, which can lead to the collapse of entire mountains, given enough time.”

“How much time?” you ask, and he can see in your eyes that you are worried about how long it might take before Simon’s evil will create eternal scars upon the Earth.

“This Darkling reigned for three centuries before The Decem was able to stop him. And at that point, the entire European, Asian and African continents were covered in darkness.”

He gives you a minute with that, because it seems to affect you most severely, but the story is not yet over.

“I had no intention of joining the fight, as I could simply fly away from it, not wanting to realize that as it continued to spread, there would eventually be nowhere left to go. But in the end, it was not the understanding that the world was ending which convinced me to go back, but simply the thought that I would not be the worst monster among such things. That in their midst, I might actually appear… beautiful.”

You step closer to him then, unfolding your arms to place a gentle hand over his cheek. A silent reminder of how you see him, regardless of his form, and he takes a moment to lean into your touch.

“I was late to the party, however,” he continues then. “For a mere fortnight I battled the darkened vegetation at the heart of its outbreak, trying to carve a path to the man responsible, unaware that I was closely monitored by the spirits. At this point, only four of them had avoided getting caught by the darkness. Ursa, Papilio, Cervus and Equus.”

“The elements,” you observe. “Are they somehow stronger than the others?”

“Not stronger, but perhaps more resilient against corruption. Although, I don’t know why. In any case, my efforts eventually led them to the Darkling, and once they had access to him, he never stood a chance. He couldn’t see them coming, so when they all charged him together, he was immediately overpowered. Ursa impaled him with her icicles, and then each of them took one limb and one direction, pulling him apart, not at the joints, but at the weakened area at the center of his chest where the spears of ice had already broken his spine and sternum.”

“And that was it?”

“No, he was still alive afterwards, bleeding black goop into the soil which seemed to superpower the mutated vegetation. Roots the size of redwoods erupted from the ground, all aiming for the spirits, because so long as he was still alive, the Darkling could reassemble himself. But the elementals knew better. They had already abandoned the severed pieces, locating his heart instead. Not a lump of red flesh, but rather a small grey stone covered in coiled up vines.”

“So, his heart has to be destroyed before he’ll ever really be dead? How predictable.”

“Indeed. Had Scarabaeus been able to, she would’ve been the one to do it by simply passing through the stone, turning solid in the middle of it. But as she was already dead, Equus was the one who delivered the final blow,” Oberyn finishes, recalling the quaking bedrock in the aftermath of the horse’s powerful stomp.

He closes his eyes for a few seconds then, hoping you have not detected the sorrow which plagues him at the memory, for he knows not how to explain it. As much as he wishes to ensure you will be well informed of all aspects of your foe, he is leaving out one detail of this gruesome story. Which is that the man, the grieving human, had reemerged once his body had been broken and the darkness within him begun to pour out. In those final moments before his life had truly been ended, he was just a devastated father, as tortured and tormented as those whom he had killed.

Simon might be different, but he was not born with malicious intent. At some point, something must have happened to him to make him aware of his own darkness, and rather than fear it, he chose to embrace it. But before this, he was likely a normal human boy, with normal human feelings. Which means if you succeed in stopping him, he might revert to that being in the moments before his end, and if this should happen, you will be forced to watch that boy die in agony.

“Okay, dumb question maybe, but it still needs to be asked,” you sigh, while attempting to massage your own neck. “Can’t we just drop a small mountain on top of him, then? I mean, if all we need to do is crack his dead heart to pieces.”

“Unfortunately, that won’t work, because even if his body is damaged, he can heal it so long as his heart is intact.”

“And, let me guess: because it’s made of stone, the vines around it are enough to make it nearly indestructible from the outside?”

You read the answer in his eyes without him even changing his expression, and you let your head hang low for a minute while you try to think.

“You said that the other Darkling couldn’t detect the spirits. Is the same true for Simon?”

“Yes. But since you’re human, he will be able to detect you.”

“God damned it. Can’t we just catch one fucking break!” you end on a scream, turned away from him, sending your voice out over the mountain range where it echoes around for much longer than your ears can hear.

He steps closer and wraps his arms around your waist from behind, feeling you relax into his chest almost as if unaware of it yourself.

“How do we stand a chance without the spirits?” you ask, and in your voice, he can hear such pain.

Not for fear that you will suffer, if he knows you as well as he believes to, but for fear of how much the world will suffer in each moment you stand idle, unable to act because of the staggering lack of options.

“As Oberyn, I was able to carve a path for them through the death-lands. As Tyrannus, I am certain I can do the same for you, however powerful our foe might be. The question we face is not how to reach him, but how to get close enough to rip his heart out when he is protected by the mighty nine.”

For a long while, you stand silent within his embrace, although he feels certain he might be able to hear how hard you are thinking if he should focus well enough. Then, something moves through you. He can feel it, not because you actually move, but through a sudden and very distinct shift in your energy. No longer somber and despondent, you whirl around and take his hands, abruptly confident, as you appear to have uncovered something workable.

“I might be human, but I’m also light itself. And if there’s any reason I can think of to keep me separate from the other spirits, it must be because I’m their protector. My place in all this isn’t to fight the Darkling, it’s just to save them. That’s my purpose,” you animatedly explain, your eyes alight with understanding, while he remains uncertain.

“But… how can you? They are no longer spirits at all; their very essences have been destroyed.”

“No, I don’t believe that. Because if it was true, their mystical powers would’ve disappeared completely, but they haven’t, they’re just corrupted. I can bring them back, Oberyn. Don’t you see? My light heals me because that’s what it was always meant to do: heal spirits.”

Suddenly your confidence becomes infectious, as he realizes how much this all sounds true and right. There must be a reason for your detachment to the others, a reason behind the fact that not even the protectors of this world can recognize you, and this might well be it. But his hope is still stunted by one stubbornly persistent problem.

“Alright. Then I suppose all you need to do is figure out how to use it,” he says, and sees the optimism disappear from your frame as if an arctic wind has swept by and stolen it.

He takes a deep breath to re-center himself, reaching the conclusion that none of this is going to be solved right here and now. The world suffers while solutions evade you, but there is nothing to be done about that. If you rush in without a plan, one that actually has a fighting chance, you may well doom the earth to eternal darkness.

“Come, my love. You need new clothes, food and a night’s rest. There’s a village close by; we will go there to recover for now.”

You are not happy with this suggestion. He can see protests wanting to escape your mouth in the way you repeatedly search for the right words to voice your complaints. But in the end, you find none, allowing his reasoning to stand unchallenged. Backing away, he brings forth the ancient beast, once again slightly offset by the extreme shifts in perspectives and sensory input. You look so small as he offers you his front paw and then lifts you up to his shoulder.

Not wanting to scare people with a dramatic entrance, he decides to walk down the mountain, surprisingly well camouflaged against the snow and protruding rocks in the dark. But this does not prevent him from being spotted by a couple apparently living on the damned mountainside, where no one should have been able to build anything. Slightly shocked to suddenly hear voices beneath him, he stops, finding their house perched on an outcrop, seemingly without any road or lift leading up to it. How do they even get to the village for supplies?

They are understandably equally shocked to see him, merely standing paralyzed as he observes them for a few moments.

“Norwegians are unusual people,” he says to you in his mind, to which you chuckle.

“The Vikings wouldn’t have been nearly as successful in their conquests if they’d allowed terrain to stand in their way.”

He does not argue this point, as he has seen Vikings for himself and knows firsthand just how hardy and resilient they were. You are still several miles from the village at this point, so the couple will likely not cause any widespread panic. He leaves their home untouched, walking carefully past it so as not to trigger any avalanches, and when he reaches the little town down by the fjord, it looks perfectly calm and still.

Creeping as close as he dares, he doesn’t change back until he is just a few hundred yards from the closest houses, to keep the distance you will have to walk as short as possible since it takes so much more time. But no one seems to notice. It’s late, but the tourist center should still be open, and they often have emergency supplies for unfortunate travelers, such as clothes, in the event someone’s luggage is lost, and stores are closed. It is easy to find, sporting large flags on top of the single-story building, and it is still open.

“Hei, vhordan kan jeg hjelpe deg?” a tall blonde woman behind the reception greets when you approach her desk.

“Hi, we’re American,” you start, and the woman immediately repeats her greeting in English, which you politely thank her for before continuing. “As you can see, I’m in dire need of some new clothes. You wouldn’t happen to have some sweaters and jackets for sale, would you?”

“Certainly, follow me and I’ll show you where,” the receptionist smiles while getting up to assist you. “May I ask what happened?”

“Oh, that’s a long story and I’m very tired. Do you know if any hotel in town might have a room available?”

“There’s only one hotel here, but last I heard they weren’t fully booked for this week. It’s easy to find, just head down to the water and follow the road, you’ll see the signs.”

“Thank you,” you reply as you arrive in the gift shop area of the center, where there is an entire section devoted to equipping both humans and common pets to survive arctic weather.

You know your size and pick a thinner sweater along with a thicker jacket, to give you more options based on where in the world you and Oberyn might end up next. But as you are beginning to move back towards the receptionist’s desk, where the items must be paid, you lean closer to him and whisper.

“Uh, I’m assuming you have some way of paying for this, because I don’t.”

“Not to worry, darling. I never go anywhere without this,” he says, while pulling out a blank card from a concealed pocket in the side of his coat.

It connects to a bank account in the name of one Christopher Wilkins, who does not exist except on paper, but has a few million dollars all the same. Oberyn has twenty of these identities, all of which have similar accounts at dozens of different banks around the world, which all together adds up to over one billion dollars. He offers the card for payment and the purchase goes through without difficulty. You get changed in the bathroom before you leave the tourist center, walking towards the hotel hand in hand, when northern lights suddenly appear above you.

“Are you doing this, Valya?” he asks with a smile, knowing he is probably wrong but wanting to believe it could be true.

“If I am, it’s not by choice,” you sigh, looking up at the dancing green spectacle with awe. “I wish it were, though.”

The hotel is as easy to locate as the receptionist suggested, and you arrive to find the doors open despite the clock on the wall next to it reading nearly 11 pm. Only half of the thirty rooms are occupied, so he pays for a night in a larger suite even though the two of you do not require so much space. He just wants you to be comfortable, and the suite has a bathtub, which he feels might be needed to get you to relax.

The hotel uses old-fashioned keys for the rooms, so once inside, he drops them into a plastic bowl on a sideboard in the hall, and then immediately begins to work on the buttons of his coat. You hang up your new jacket, kick off your snowy wet boots, and head straight for the double bed to lay down.

“I feel like I could sleep for a week. But you’re probably not even tired.”

“Not like you, but I could do with a few hours. Adjusting to Tyrannus has taken a bit more effort than my usual transformation. Plus, we don’t know when we might get the chance to rest again.”

Shrugging off the coat, he hangs it up in the hallway closet and sits down on a stool helpfully placed beside the closet, to unlace his shoes.

“And what about food?” you inquire, turning your head towards him as you have undoubtedly not forgotten the green dragon’s appetite and likely draw the conclusion that the much larger white one must require much more.

“Strange though it may seem, aside from a rather unusual craving for pistachios, both my alter ego and I are perfectly fine,” he explains, momentarily wondering if the hotel restaurant might be open, and if he should go in search of some nuts.

However, once the moment passes, he feels only confused by his own hankering.

“But you haven’t eaten anything all day, and you’ve been fighting a lot.”

“Actually, I did eat some unfortunate bystanders in Detroit,” he recalls, which prompts you to sit up on the edge of the bed.

“Detroit was horrible. In every way. All those emergency responders… they died horrifically, and I just stood there,” you remember, and tears form in your eyes at the images which must be burning the insides of them. “I couldn’t do anything.”

“No, you could not have helped them. Those creatures may have been alone, untethered to the greater darkness, but that is also what made them so erratic and unpredictable, though still just as deadly.”

“Yeah…” you agree, turning your gaze down to your own hands, but then something seems to occur to you, as a crease bothers your brows. “But I made one of them stop.”

This surprises Oberyn, who is just about to stand having finished with his shoes, and instead remain still as he waits for you to elaborate.

“I yelled at it to stop, and it did. Just for a moment, and right before you came barreling onto the same street, but it stopped. And it looked angry about it.”

“As if it had been halted against its will?”

“That’s what it felt like, but I can’t be sure. Do you think I could’ve managed to command it somehow? Is that something Lux could do?”

“Possibly. The true power of Day is her ability to spread hope. If you were desperate enough, it is conceivable that you could have forced this creature to stop by using the sunlight as a physical barrier.”

“I can do that?”

“I should think so. You created an entire human being with it, I’d say you could definitely stop one little monster if you set your mind to it,” he winks at you, before getting up and moving towards the bathroom.

“If only I knew how the hell I do these things,” you say as he disappears into the tiled space and turns on the tap for the tub.

“You’ll figure it out, I have no doubts about that,” he replies while checking the temperature of the water, returning to the bedroom before he continues. “On a more positive note, the innocents I killed in Detroit will be the last innocents ever to fall victim to my beast. Nothing like that will ever happen again, because this dragon doesn’t need food of any kind.”

You have your head resting in your hands when he emerges from the bathroom, but you straighten out as you hear his words, and quietly trace his path over to the bed where he takes a seat beside you.

“Really? How can you be certain? You’ve only had it in you for a few hours.”

“Did you not notice the complete lack of stomach acid in there.”

“I did, but I figured maybe you had another stomach somewhere and I just wasn’t far enough through the system to be at any risk of digestion.”

“No there’s only one stomach, but this dragon stopped eating long before Lux changed him. And even when he did eat, it was at a time before organic life had evolved into actual creatures, so he fed only on magma and rocks. It’s what made him grow to such a size and develop those incredibly thick scales.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Who needs protein when you’ve got minerals.”

He smiles at you then, even though you are not trying to be amusing, delivering the phrase with sarcasm rather than joviality. You are too tired to enjoy yourself now, so instead of contesting your mildly snarky attitude, he sweeps you off the bed and into his arms in a swift and soft movement, returning to the bathroom where he puts you down in front of the just filled up tub.

“Are you trying to tell me I’m dirty without using any words?” you ask, still presenting the same general irritation, which is why he merely continues to smile warmly while he undresses you.

It takes only minutes for the hot water to begin relaxing you, while Oberyn gently helps you wash your back and shoulders, then your feet, before leaving you to just soak and warm your battered muscles while he steps over to the shower and rinses himself off. He is surprised to find that he has neglected to notice you leaving the tub, when your hands are suddenly returning the favor, rubbing liquid soap into his back. But he loves the feeling, having never experienced such care from a partner before, and remains still to let you work.

Before long, you are both clean from head to toe, which is when the caring touches change character, becoming craving instead. He brings you back to the bed without bothering to grab a towel on the way, abruptly needing you so badly he cannot wait long enough even for you to squeeze the bulk of the water from your hair.

Last night had been soft and tender, but when he enters you tonight, it is with fervency, perhaps even a streak of frenzy, giving you hardly any time to adjust before he is already working up a strong rhythm with firm snaps of his hips, making you jolt with each one. He feels strangely uncontrolled. Fully aware that such treatment could hurt you, but utterly unable to stop himself. Something drives his body which is not so simple a thing as lust. There is a deeper purpose at work, one he cannot discern, but remains a slave to for now.

You seem only pleased with him, though, showing no indication of distress or discomfort, meeting his forceful movements with an equally firm resistance, as if under the same spell he is. The need drives him so relentlessly that he reaches his peak in mere minutes, coming hard within the depths of your being, where he is so warmly received. But you do not follow.

As he stills above you, your body remains unsatisfied, which gives him a sickly feeling to his stomach, because however much he seeks his own pleasure, yours is the real price. But this entire copulation has felt off, which intensifies his disappointment with himself, so when he pulls back, seeking your eyes so that he might beg your forgiveness, he is more than ashamed of himself. He feels rotten.

The feeling leaps away, however, when shock takes its place as he sees your face. Your eyes are frozen, staring at nothing, and the tension in your body has given way to complete relaxation. Too complete.

“Valya?” he whispers, unable to bring any strength to his voice because what he sees within your eyes now is not life.

“Lux?” he tries, even weaker now, hoping merely your human form is lost to him, while the spirit remains.

Your own alter ego taking over, much as the dragon has done to him in the past. But there is no response from you. No breath. No pulse.

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

You feel wonderful. Even when he pounds into you, all you experience is pleasure, wanting more no matter how good he makes you feel. The pressure builds and shifts, flowing through you at different intensities depending on your breaths, which muscles are tense and which nerves are most directly affected. It feels like flying through clouds of pure pleasure, devoid of thoughts or intentions.

And then it just… stops. You feel how he comes, and you’re just one moment away from following up with the best orgasm of your life when everything suddenly goes quiet and still. Not just around you, but in you. No more pleasure, no more heat or sweat or even the cold sensation of the sticky fabric underneath your head, drenched by the water from your hair.

Opening your eyes, you find yourself elsewhere. There’s no Oberyn, no bed, no hotel room. You’re not even sure there’s an Earth. But there is a presence. Nothing around you is identifiable, the best you can come up with is that it looks like something Jackson Pollock might’ve painted if someone had asked him what life on a gas-giant might look like. And yet, something here is familiar.

It’s neither light nor dark, and at the same time it’s both, but it’s almost like your eyes and brain aren’t designed to interpret what they’re seeing, so all you get is a colorful mess with the appearance of a flashlight slowly spinning around in the middle of it. Then you seem to blink, and suddenly you’re staring at yourself, as if there was a mirror in front of you. Only your reflection doesn’t move with you.

“Hello?” you try to say, but no sound comes out, leaving you wondering if you even have a mouth here.

That’s when you realize you aren’t breathing either, so wherever you are, this is a place outside of normal space. You wonder if it could be some form of heaven, although you don’t believe in that, but it also doesn’t seem like it would be. No, in your heart you know this is something else. Important to you, specifically.

Your reflection doesn’t move, but you feel certain it holds answers for you, so you try walking towards it. Your legs don’t seem to move at all, but you still glide closer to the other you, so perhaps all you need to do is think of the movement. When you get closer, her chest starts to glow, as if there’s a shining gem halfway between her throat and her breasts. Then she raises her hands to show you how they’ve started shining as well, right in the centers of the palms, getting brighter with each passing moment.

Eventually, the light becomes so bright you can’t see anything anymore, but your eyes remain open, unbothered by the complete whiteness. And that’s when you suddenly understand what this is. Why it happened in the middle of a moment of passion, you have no fucking clue, but given how important it is, you don’t linger on the inexplicable, taking the win instead.

Because you’ve finally found Lux. Somewhere within yourself, she connects you to this other place. Her world. Outside all other aspects of reality, by the looks of it, but clearly also able to interact with everything, everywhere. She made you, but at the same time, she is you, and here in her world, you’re able to see things the way she does. You understand the power of light and the ways in which you can bend it to your will, as if you’d done nothing else your whole life.

And once everything is clear to you, once you’ve unlocked all this knowledge she put in you from the start, the whiteness turns to dark, gravity returns, your lungs expand on reflex as oxygen once again exists, and you open your eyes to find that the darkness was just the insides of your own eyelids.

Surprisingly, though, it isn’t Oberyn’s face you look up at, but rather two very shocked paramedics, who despite their training, freeze when you come to. Apparently, you’ve been “dead” for a while.

“Oh… Well, this is awkward,” you say to try and relieve the tension, and then there’s a loud racket before Oberyn appears beside you, having risen so quickly his chair fell over.

He doesn’t speak, but his eyes scream of the pain he’s suffered in however long a time you’ve been unresponsive, so to ease his worries, you ignore the urgings of the medical staff for you to remain still, and sit up to hug him. He trembles like a leaf in your arms, holding you very tightly, before he reaches down behind you to pull the covers up over your bare shoulders. You hadn’t even reflected on the fact that you’re naked.

“What happened?” he finally asks, his voice sore with how hard he must’ve cried.

But you smile in return, so filled with hope now that not even his sorrow can dampen your spirits.

“You brought me to the light, honey,” you tell him, and his sadness gives way to confusion.

There’s no quick or easy way to explain what you’ve just experienced, so you settle for the most important part, which can’t be seen, only felt. You reach out and place one hand on the shoulder of the paramedic closest to you, locating the darkness in her heart without effort.

“Don’t worry about your father, Nora. He’s not going to hurt himself, he just needs you to stop and listen to his pain,” you say, feeling her father’s agony through the bond of love between them. “You always want to fix everything that hurts, but sometimes pain has a purpose. Let him tell you about it, and I promise you, he will be alright.”

The middle-aged woman looks at you as if you’ve just reached into her heart and given it a good twist, which in truth, you sort of have.

“H-… How do you kn-…?” she tries, but then sorrow rocks through her, stealing her voice.

To answer her, you let the hand at her shoulder channel the light from your own heart, and it glows for just a second as you pour hope into her being. Her sorrow immediately lessens, brightening her eyes and smoothing the tense lines around her mouth. You smile softly at her, and she nods in gratitude, even though she doesn’t understand what’s just happened, before starting to pack up their gear. Her colleague looks like one giant question mark, but apparently decides not to argue.

They leave a minute later, and Oberyn places a hand at your jaw, drawing your gaze back to him.

“I do not pretend to understand anything of what has just transpired here, but… you are ready now. Aren’t you? To fight.”

“I am,” you confirm. “I know what we need to do.”

“Does that mean we’re going back to America?”

“No,” you firmly state, finally without a shred of doubt within you. “It means we’re going everywhere else.”

Part 11

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 #prince oberyn #au fic #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones au #modern au #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #halloween writing #halloween fic #spooky season fic #sirowsky stories

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 1 year

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It’s The Little Things

A/N: I know it’s been a hot second since I’ve posted anything, but I had this little idea after seeing a video of a girl do this for her boyfriend and just wrote this quick little, fluffy story. So I hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Word count: 1,690 words Warnings: Lots of fluff :)

Gerard was practically living with you at this point.

Yes, technically speaking, he did have his own place. And no, technically he didn’t pay for rent (though that was a recent conversation between the two of you where he attempted to insist he needed to and you promptly said no). But he was here at least six out of seven days a week, if not all seven.

You didn’t mind by any means, having your boyfriend to help out around the place a bit or cuddle with when he was consistently home was nice. But his long days now working on the upcoming album on top of his already long commute from his place and LA traffic to the studio space was what had him staying here so often. Your apartment was roughly 10 minutes from the studio, his 45. Yours was in an area he liked better anyways, more parks and things to do and much less hectic than his area of town.

While spending time together, however, you had noticed his growing feeling of disconnect. You didn’t need him to outright say that he was losing some connection with people back home, the things he would say, even the slightest hints in conversation gave you all you need. This was because of the primary problem that you didn’t have a gaming set up, at all.

It was the way he communicated best with friends back home who lived on the other coast of the country, was through gaming. You had no problem with him doing it, and it wasn’t like he was addicted or anything. He knew how to time manage well, and if you needed help on anything he would be there within a minute of your request. But now, with not being at his place where all his set up was, he didn’t have the opportunity to use that as a stress reliever or to be able to actually communicate with some of his best friends.  And this is where the combination of your master plan (sponsored by your recent bonus check) came to mind.

He already had been keeping a list of new equipment he wanted, and thanks to your inside source (AKA Mikey) you had gotten ahold of just that list. Sure, most of this stuff wasn’t cheap, but it wasn’t overly expensive either. So as soon as your additional check processed you went on a shopping spree for your boyfriend, without him knowing.

It had taken a full day, or the entire Thursday out of this week for you. It started as soon as he left at 8:45 to get to the studio. As soon as his car was about 10 minutes down the road, you took your own first to Best Buy to get the simple things, then across to some more specialty stores around town to find just what he needed (suddenly thankful for just how big LA was and therefore it’s variety). Shipping stuff was not an option, it would’ve made it far too obvious and ruined the surprise.

It didn’t take all that long to get everything, it was just setting it up that was a bit of a pain in the ass. First, the IKEA desk was a handful, which you had to get one of the guy’s you knew down the hall to assist you with. Then it was figuring out power cords and confusing directions with lists of terminology you had never seen before. And finally, turning it on to make sure nothing was broken, either by the manufacturer or you.

Everything was set up and ready to go by 5, which was going to be early anyways. Gerard usually didn’t get back until 6 or 6:30 at the earliest, his average being around 8, and some nights going until 10. You pondered what to do in the meantime, all the productiveness of the day powering you on to continue. You might’ve been going a bit over the top with the niceness today, but you figured the world needed more kindness over everything, so you decided to make his favorite food, which happened to be a combination of your mom’s spaghetti recipe and his. You weren’t sure how, but over the last year and a half or so of dating, you had managed to combine a bit of both their recipe’s to make your own hybrid sauce, which he practically melted over when you made it.

It took the sauce a while to boil down, as in a good three-ish hours, and you figured or at least hoped he would be home by then and could wait just a bit for the food to finish. In the meantime, you decided to finish a few minor work things, and move on to a TV show you watched on your own knowing damn well he would not enjoy it (but you also knew he would sit through it and pretend he liked it even if he didn’t).

Just as you were a good couple episodes in, you heard the lock on the front door jingle a bit. You turned off the TV, hopping up and making it just in time to greet him at the door. “Hey Gee!” You smiled at him, his tired face forcing a small but genuine smile.

“Hey, baby.” He replied, shrugging hit coat and shoes off before giving you a light kiss.

“How was your day?” You asked next, he sighed a bit in response.

“Exhausting, frustrating, the usual.” He replied, “Glad to be home.” You loved it when he called this place “home”, and nuzzled into his side a bit with your head on his shoulder in appreciation. “Yours?”  

“Good, I have a surprise for you actually.” He smiled a bit more with a chuckle.

“Is it what I think it is? Because I think I smell your spaghetti sauce but I didn’t wanna get my hopes up.”  

“Well there’s that, yes, and then one other thing.” He wrapped his arms around you, giving you a little squeeze before you pulled away to lead him into the back part of the living room. “You gotta close your eyes, babe.” You said, which he chuckled at a bit closing his eyes. “I don’t fully believe you. Hands over them too.” He took a huff and followed your instructions as you lightly took his arms and gently led him right next to the new desk with all his equipment. “Okay, ready? Open.” You said and he followed.

At first his face looked a bit confused, but it soon turned to amazement, and then back to confusion as he looked at you for clarification. “It’s a new gaming set up.” You said simply.

He looked back at it in amazement before responding, “F-for me?”  

“Yes, for you silly.” You smiled up at him, “I figured you practically live here now, you might as well have one here too. And that way you can still talk to the guys back home and have fun.”

“Babe,” He said simply, before turning to you and giving you one of the biggest hugs you had ever received, and most likely would ever receive in your life. “I- I mean, how did you know what to get? And did you buy this? I can reimburse you and-“  

“No baby, none of that.” You replied back, “I paid for all of it, no worries. And not to snitch, but Mikey may or may not have sent me the list of new stuff you wanted for your gaming set up so I just went ahead and bought it.”

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He asked, cupping your face with his hands and leaning in to give you a slow kiss that he clearly meant with all his heart.

“I’m glad it makes you happy.”

  “Very happy, actually. Like ecstatic.” He smiled.

“Anyways, you can set it up with all your stuff if you want. I gotta finish dinner.”

“No, I’ll help you,” He replied, promptly following you into the kitchen. “I can’t believe I’m getting your spaghetti and a gaming set up in a day. How will I ever repay you?” He asked to which you laughed.

“Just come to bed at night and don’t stay up forever, I like having you next to me.”  

“That’s not really repaying you, hon,” He explained, “I like that too, I wouldn’t worry about that being a problem.”

After dinner and clean up, which he insisted on doing, you let him set up all of his stuff and play for a bit before hopping in the shower. You were glad to see him this genuinely, truly happy for the first time in a while, and hoped that maybe he would feel even more at home here than he already did. “I’m going to bed, love.” You said, walking up behind him as he removed his headset off of one ear. You gave him a kiss on the head and gentle rub on the shoulder.

“Okay, do you want me to come with?” He asked genuinely with big eyes of slight disappointment but not seeming to mind much. You softly smiled.

“Gee, I’m not your mom.” You chuckled, “But come to bed eventually tonight, I sleep better with you there.”  

“Of course, hon, just like 15, maybe 20 more minutes I promise.”  

“Alrighty baby, love you.” You replied with a soft smile, watching him go back to his screen.

“Love you too.”

You climbed into your bed on your side, taking your nightly vitamins before tucking yourself in and slowly trying to drift off. You loved making him happy, and seeing him act almost like a kid again brought some joy soaring deep through your veins. It wasn’t but 30 minutes later that you felt the bed next to you sink, and his body quickly engulfing yours, his head nuzzling onto your shoulder as he planted a soft kiss on your cheek. “Love you, sweet girl.” He whispered just loud enough so you could hear it. You smiled to yourself contently, interlocking his fingers placed lightly on your stomach with your own.

#gerard way #gerard way fanfiction #gerard way x reader #gerard way x you #gerard way x y/n #mcr gerard #my chemical gerard #mcr #mcr fanfiction #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader

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brickcentral · 2 months

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🤩 ARTIST SPOTLIGHT: zekezachzoom Hello everyone! It's time to direct the spotlight toward our community members, and today we will get to know better zekezachzoom!

"My name is Sunny but you might know me better as zekezachzoom on social media. I am a freelance graphic designer and have been a toy photographer for 10 years.

I came up with this profile name after my sons’. Zeke is my second son and Zach my first. I imagined them running away after calling their names, hence Zoom. I live in Singapore where we have two seasons, Rain and Shine. It’s a tiny island and getting around is pretty fast and easy. I have a few favourite spots around the island for toy photography. I will be more than happy to explore these places with any of my overseas friends if they pop by this part of the world! Though sometimes I wish we have mountains, rivers and maybe desert for more outdoor choices. On the plus side, being a small island makes organizing an outing with fellow toy photographers very easy, even if it is a last minute thing.

I started toy photography after posting an image of Spiderman squatting on the window ledge overlooking the neighborhood on Instagram…and then discovering the community. Everyone was and still is very encouraging and I think this helped in me trying to better myself with each photograph. Though Instagram is not what is used to be, but that is a discussion for another day.

 Talking about process, if there is a brief for the photo (commissioned work, photo contest), I will usually follow up with some research work on the topic. At the same time, I will park the topic for the photo at the back on my mind and let it simmer unconsciously.

However, for personal work, I usually do not actively chase for ideas, forcing them out. I find that most ideas come to me randomly. This usually happens in a variety of ways, like watching videos on any subject, going about my daily life, observing and listening to things around me. I think being curious about everything and anything certainly helps in generating ideas.

Once I have a photo idea, I then let it sit and simmer further in my mind’s eye. This can help take the concept to more interesting directions in terms of story, setup, composition, lighting, etc. More ideas can be built upon this initial concept base on even more things you see and observe. It also allows time to think about how to setup the shot.

I will always sketch my ideas on my notebook, which is always by my side. At present time, I have more ideas than time to shoot!

When it comes to the shoot itself, I usually start with the mobile phone, quickly checking the angles and then locking my camera to a tripod. I always use a tripod to gather multiple shots of the same angle with different lighting, atmospheric effect so that I can then composite them in post if need be. Then I will shoot couple of shots for final composition without the lighting and atmospheric effect. I enjoy the post production work, especially the color grading part. Sometimes, the word PHOTOSHOP give rise to arguments within the photographic community. To me, it’s just a tool to bring the picture to its maximum potential.

I think people I know in the community know me for my punny, silly and light-hearted stuff. So much so that friends recommend me toys they think that might fit this style. However, recently I find myself going all over the place in terms of themes. I just enjoy the process of experimenting different approaches, be it the storytelling or the technical bits of photography. When I am shooting indoor, I usually set up for low key images. It gives me a chance to experiment with indoor lighting. If there is one thing I would tell my younger self when I started, it’s to pay attention to lighting. It can elevate a nice photo to a great photo. Also, I like to build simple sets with everyday object that end up looking like something else when viewed through the camera. I do this mostly because I am lazy and don’t have the patience to build dioramas. I am usually with a group of friends when I shoot outdoors, because we have a monthly gathering among us. During these outings, I am constantly looking out for areas with awesome lighting. I try to reserve my action shots (ie scenes with flying debris) outdoors, mostly because there is no need to clean up after the mess! Also, outdoor light is beautiful…but fast changing lighting condition is another story all together.

When I first started, it was all about the Star Wars figures. I had stopped collecting figures since the 1980s , but it was the Star Wars Black Series that got me collecting again with all its glorious articulation. Once I discovered the community, I realized that there were other characters to be bought! I sometimes wonder if that is a good thing, from my wallet’s point of view.  I find myself gravitating towards nostalgia when it comes to the figures I buy. So, my collection and images usually reflect that, with movie/TV characters from the 80s. Stuff like Aliens, Indiana Jones, Predator and Back to the Future, etc. However, whether they are LEGO minifigures, statues, 6 inch figures, I will shoot any figures as long as they serve the stories. Each type of figures has its own pros and cons and challenges. But I would not have it any other way.

This is my basic equipment list: • Nikon Zfc with kit lens (16mm to 50mm) • Lensbaby Sweet 35 lens • Helios 44-2 58mm lens • Extension tubes for close ups • 2 speed lights • Couple of LED cube lights • Manfrotto tripod

Why toy photography? I love pop culture and telling quirky weird stories with characters I love. I can never produce awesome looking illustration of these images I have in mind and photography seems like the next best thing. Hence toy photography! When I first started, I was always coming up with ideas in the middle of the night and sketching them down and made it my mission to spread this hobby. I recall vividly telling a friend how much I enjoy this hobby and was going to just keep throwing out toy photos into the internet and see what comes back. And a lot has indeed happen since then: • I started a local Facebook group to organize more toy photography outings and share photos. • Managed to get featured on national newspaper and television, because they came across my work online. • Made friends on social media and participated in podcast by some of these friends. • Conducted workshops. • Shot for some toy companies. • Collaboration with toy designers and model/diorama makers. • Nikon Ambassador.

I have enjoyed the journey so far and look forward to improving myself. Something I always remind myself: your best photo is the one you have not taken yet."

Thank you for accepting our invitation and let the community knows you better!

If you want some insights on the exclusive picture and for a better view of the others, head to our blog at https://brickentral.net/.

- @theaphol, Community Outreach Manager

#lego #lego photography #brickcentral #toy photography #afol #legophotography #toyphotography #minifigures #brickcentral member #brickcentral artist spotlight #lego art #artist spotlight #interview #artist profile

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scary-grace · 5 months

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Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 18) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside-down world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21

Chapter 18

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. This morning, the thing that’s wrong with it is the potted plant that’s heaved over the fence into the front yard just past three am. The sound of a terracotta pot shattering wakes you up, and when you fumble for your phone to check the time, you see that you’ve got a text from Dabi. Your dumb horny idiot wouldn’t leave me alone until I gave him a plant. Whatever the hell he wants, I hope it’s worth it.

As far as Dabi goes, it could be worse. You send him a thumbs-up and a thank-you and wonder idly if Tomura really thinks one potted plant is going to get the two of you through a second round of sex. But when Tomura materializes in your room seconds later, he doesn’t try to start something. Instead he crawls under the blankets on your bed and wedges himself in beside you. Phantom’s excited to see him. She walks all over you to plop down between the two of you, her wagging tail thumping against your cheek.

You shift her to one side to avoid the onslaught and peer at Tomura through blurry eyes. “What?”

“Go back to bed.” Tomura sets Phantom down on your stomach and presses close against your side, wrapping one arm around you to hold you even closer. “I mean it. Go.”

You don’t like being told what to do, but you have work in the morning, and you’re still worn out from last night. You close your eyes again.

It’s a busy morning, so busy that your plan to get the morning-after pill before work is derailed within two minutes of your alarm going off. You were so tired last night that it was all you could do to make dinner, feed Phantom, and go back to sleep, which means you now have to shower and pack a lunch in addition to all your usual morning chores. And somewhere in the middle of that, you have to explain the plan for killing Tomura’s conjurer to Tomura himself.

Tomura, as predicted, is not pleased. His first protest is that he can do it himself, at which point you text Hizashi to come over later and explain – from outside the fence – what happens to ghosts who kill their own conjurers. Tomura follows up by pointing out that the others weren’t very helpful handling Garaki, and you counter with Tomura’s own statement about being his conjurer’s only remaining ghost. Finally, Tomura gets around to what seems to be the main point of contention. “I don’t trust them. Not with you. Not from him.”

Tomura doesn’t talk about his conjurer very much. From what he’s said, he barely remembers him. But you knew he’d say something like this, and you have a response ready. “If you’re materialized, he’s cut off from the world between. He’ll just be a human. And humans die.”

“Don’t copy me,” Tomura says. He knows you’re quoting what he said to Garaki. “Who’s supposed to kill him, anyway? If they try this stupid plan.”

“The rest of the adult humans,” you say. Then you think about it. “Probably Keigo or Aizawa. And probably Aizawa. He’s got a gun.”

“Spinner would. And Jin.” Tomura speaks with a lot more certainty than you’d expect. He sees the way you’re looking at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” The electric teakettle hisses and you pour hot water into your travel mug before dropping in a tea bag. “Usually you aren’t nice about them.”

“They came over while you were gone. For games.” Tomura crouches down to pet Phantom, who’s come over with her favorite toy. “Himiko, too. It wasn’t bad.”

You didn’t expect that. You didn’t think he’d do anything but hang out with Phantom while you were gone, and you suddenly feel guilty for not asking. But you’ll ask more when you get home from work, or text him about it on your lunch break. Right now you have to get moving. “So, the plan?”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“We’re not doing it today,” you say. “Just think about it. If you’ve got ideas, we could use them. Your last plan was pretty good.”

Tomura looks pleased with himself. You gather up your work backpack, plus all the research you’re bringing to Mr. Yagi in exchange for his and Izuku’s notes on his master’s journal, and head for the door. Phantom follows you. So does Tomura. “Get more plants on the way home.”

You say goodbye to Phantom and feed her a treat. “Plants are expensive.”

“They’re everywhere outside. Those don’t cost anything.”

He wants you to go out, dig up random plants, put them in pots, and bring them home so the two of you can have more sex. “I’m not stealing plants in my work clothes,” you say. “Maybe after dinner.”

Tomura grins. He dematerializes from behind you and reappears in front of you, leaning against the front door and blocking your path. “I want a kiss first.”

“I was going to kiss you anyway.” Your hands are full, but you step forward anyway and press your lips against his.

You haven’t kissed him since last night. The two of you don’t usually kiss unless someone’s trying to start something, and kissing him goodbye on your way out the door to work has always felt a little too intimate, a little too serious for whatever the two of you are. Except now the two of you have said you love each other. You defined the relationship. You went all the way, to the degree that you’re having to make an effort not to walk funny. You can be serious, because it is serious. A goodbye kiss is something you’re allowed to have.

You’re five minutes late by the time you stagger out the door, and as you push the speed limit to get to work on time, you find yourself wishing you had someone you could tell about all of this. Maybe not the sex part. Probably not about that. Definitely not about that – but the rest of it. The part where you’ve got a boyfriend who loves you in whatever way ghosts love humans. It’s the kind of thing you’d talk to your old friends about, but they’ve found their own lives and pulled away, just like you did. There’s got to be somebody else. As you cruise the courthouse parking lot looking for a parking place, your usual spot long since snagged by somebody who got here early, you’re horrified to find yourself considering telling Nakayama.

The spot you find is way back in the corner of the lot, almost out of sight of the doors. If it was dark there’s no way you’d think about parking here, but it’s broad daylight, and you’ve got pepper spray somewhere in your backpack for the walk back after work. You take a second to get yourself organized, then grab your backpack and get out of the car, walking around to the passenger side to lift your research folder off the seat.

You don’t see a shadow fall across you. You don’t hear footsteps. The first thing you notice is something touching your shoulder, and the last thing you see is an enormous hand swathed in a wet, stinking handkerchief coming down over your nose and mouth. You have time to identify the smell – not alcohol, something stronger, chloroform? – before the world starts to blur at the edges. Somewhere in your head, alarm bells are ringing. You’re in danger. You’re being kidnapped. Something’s gone really wrong.

By the time the realization settles over you fully, it’s too late. All you can do is throw your elbow backwards, connecting weakly with something solid, before everything goes black.

You come to with a splitting headache and all the adrenaline and terror you didn’t have time to feel before flooding through your veins. As soon as your eyes are open, you’re fighting, but there’s no point – your arms and legs have been shackled down at the wrists and ankles, and there’s a restraint pinning you to the table at the waist. You’re trapped. It’s not even funny how trapped you are.

When you look up, all you can see is the bright glare of a fluorescent light, the kind that gets shined on your face at the dentist’s office. When you turn your head to the right, there’s nothing. When you look left, you see a rolling cart with a tray on top of it. The tray is covered in sharp, shiny metal implements. Surgical implements.

This can’t be happening. You thrash, trying to find any give in your restraints, but there’s nothing. It’s around then that you realize you’ve been stripped of your shoes, socks, shirt, pants – you’re down to your bra and underwear, like some parody of a kidnapping in a movie. But this isn’t a parody or a movie. It’s real. Whoever brought you here is planning to hurt you badly. Maybe kill you. Probably kill you.

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to kill you.” The voice issues from somewhere behind you, and it rings a distant bell in your head. Too distant, when the rest of you is worried about whether your kidnapper can read your mind. “In fact, my plan hinges on your survival. I have great things in mind for Tomura, and the death of his human at my hands will not improve his listening skills.”

“Shigaraki Akira,” you say, and Tomura’s conjurer laughs. “I know who you are. We all do.”

“Yes, you made it quite far in your investigation! Tomura certainly chose his human well,” the conjurer says. He sounds delighted by it, which is the opposite of how you expected him to sound. “It’s quite unusual to see a human so bent on protecting a ghost – and terribly unfortunate that Tomura wasn’t quite so careful when it came to you. So full of ghostly power – you were all too easy to spot.”

You have the incredibly stupid thought that this wouldn’t be happening if the condom hadn’t broken, then push it aside. The conjurer’s voice is familiar. You’ve met him before. When? Where? “Where did you find me?”

“You don’t remember?” The conjurer sounds surprised. Then he laughs at himself. “Of course. You can’t see me. My apologies.”

Footsteps behind you. A shadow falls over you, and although it’s hard to see the conjurer’s face, you know exactly who you’re looking at. “My fellow gardener,” the man who gave you his handkerchief the day Garaki died says. His smile sends a bolt of pure terror down your spine. “We meet again.”

All this time you’ve been plotting against Tomura’s conjurer, and he’s known where you are. He’s known where you are for more than a month. You thrash against the restraints harder than before, watching as Shigaraki picks his way around the table you’re strapped to and reaches the cart with the instruments. He pulls on a pair of gloves, and somewhere behind you, a door opens. More footsteps. Shadowy figures come to stand along the walls, and Shigaraki continues to talk.

“It’s quite a strange existence your neighborhood has carved out,” he remarks, lifting one tool after another to the light and studying them. “So many beings who once held immense power, leading such quiet, mundane lives. I must say, I’ve never understood the appeal of humanity, of mortality. Why should we settle for one life, one world, when we could have so much more?”

Silence falls, and stretches. Tomura’s conjurer glances at you. “This isn’t a rhetorical question. I’m interested in your answer. What is so wonderful about mortality?”

“It’s not wonderful,” you say. Shigaraki Akira arches an eyebrow. “The world between is worse.”

“Ah, I understand. You’ve stared into the abyss, and you don’t like what you saw.” Shigaraki raises one hand and beckons, and eight shadowy figures converge on the table, holding down your arms and legs even tighter. If you couldn’t get out before, you’ve got no hope of it now. “Perhaps you simply need to look a little longer. You will get the chance.”

When he speaks again, he’s not speaking to you. “Hold her down tightly. We must remove all traces, or our plan will be spoiled before it can begin.”

“What plan?” you ask desperately. “What are you going to do to me?”

“For all your impressive qualities, you’re only human,” Shigaraki Akira says, almost indulgently. “In order for you to properly partner Tomura, I must make you into something more.”

There’s something about that you should understand. Something you should know. But then the blade of a knife meets your skin, carving deep through its layers and down to the fat beneath it, and your ability to understand anything at all vanishes into a helpless howl of pain.

It’s terrible enough to drive you into unconsciousness, but Tomura’s conjurer doesn’t let you stay there. When you pass out, the knife lifts, and the process doesn’t begin again until you wake. You don’t know why you have to be awake for this, unless he’s trying to torture you, but he sets the knife down every so often to assure you it isn’t personal. How could it not be personal? He’s carving into your skin, peeling back long strips of it with agonizing slowness, stopping only when you fall unconscious or when his hands grow too slick with your blood to hold the blade. There’s no rhyme or reason to where he’s cutting you. Your left shoulder. Your right forearm. A spot on the side of your torso that feels like it takes hours upon hours to peel back. Every time you black out, you pray that you won’t wake up, that the conjurer won’t be able to rouse you. And every time, your eyes open again.

It's been quiet in the room, save for the conjurer’s voice and your unheeded screams, but after some endless amount of time, you hear another voice. “Too much blood loss,” it says, low and rumbling. “We’re running out of excisions.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. I expected her to be strong-willed, and we have plenty of excisions left for my purposes,” Shigaraki Akira says. “When we exhaust our options on the anterior, we’ll turn her to expose the rest. The one on her back is quite fresh.”

What’s on your back? You know Tomura left scratches there last night – and then you understand what the conjurer’s doing, what he’s spent the last interminable hours carving out of your skin. He’s removing the marks Tomura left on you. All of them, one by one.

You don’t know why he thinks Tomura will be happy with this. Seeing what’s been done to you will enrage him. You wonder what time it is, whether anyone’s noticed you’re missing, whether anyone’s asked where you are. How long will it take Tomura to realize you aren’t coming home? How long is he going to be angry at you before he realizes that something’s gone wrong? You think of him pacing inside the house, Phantom following him, anxious because he is. You wish you were anywhere but here, but more than anything, you wish you were home with them. You’re never going to see them again. Your throat, raw from screaming, closes off. Tears begin to drip down your cheeks, and the next time the knife cuts into your skin, you endure it in sobs instead of screams.

Your other arm. Your opposite shoulder. The other side of your waist. At some point the conjurer inserts an IV, and fresh blood begins to flow drop by drop into your veins. He wants you alive. Why? You try to make yourself listen to what he’s saying, to learn anything that might help you survive, but there’s nothing. Just the friendly exterior, the friendly voice, and the hands cutting you apart piece by piece.

“I can’t call this failure Tomura’s,” he muses as he carves a piece of flesh out of your upper arm. “He doesn’t know any better. Toshinori, on the other hand – the fact that I snatched you from under his nose will haunt him for the rest of his pathetic human life.”

You want to defend Mr. Yagi, but there’s nothing left of your voice. It’s almost as raspy as Tomura’s, and you’ve barely used it for anything but sobs and weak whimpers of pain. The conjurer’s voice takes on a dangerous note. “Nothing to say? Your stubbornness was charming at first. Now it’s getting excessive.” He jabs the knife into your skin, peels a strip back, and you wail like a wounded animal. “There’s no point in resisting. No one is coming for you. No one knows where you are. No one even knows you’re gone. The longer you resist, the worse it will be.”

No one knows you’re gone. That means it’s still the same day, because if he’s been watching you, he knows what time you’d be expected home. How is it the same day? It feels like it’s been forever. “That’s right,” the conjurer continues. “The longer you hold out, the more painful this will be. When it ends is entirely up to you.”

When it ends? Your mind is too hazy with blood loss and pain to come up with an answer, and before you can even come close, the knife bites into your skin again. You pass out almost instantly. He revives you just as quickly. It begins all over again.

You can tell the conjurer is growing frustrated with your unwillingness to do whatever it is he wants you to do. You also have a feeling he’s running out of marks to carve away, and sure enough, he orders for you to be uncuffed and rolled over, so he can reach the marks on your back. They uncuff your legs first. Nobody’s trying too hard to prevent you from running, which makes sense. You can’t run. You don’t even know that you could stand.

When your right hand’s uncuffed, the conjurer takes one look and bursts out laughing. “How did I miss this?” he asks, pulling the bracelet from your wrist. “Shimura’s work. Of course she’d continue to plague me from beyond the grave.”

Conjurers can’t touch the souls of the dead. If you die, you’ll be free of this. Free from him. The thought comes to you, settles around you, comforting and cold. You don’t have to survive this. It can end. You can go.

Shigaraki Akira laughs. “So this token was the underpinning of your resolve. Moonfish, retrieve the ghost. We’re ready.”

His voice is benevolent again, almost cooing, with a sickly undertone that makes you want to tear off the rest of your skin. He uncuffs your other wrist without looking, without spotting the bracelet there, covered in blood and practically glued to your skin. “I imagine Tomura will be very fond of my gift. Once your binding is complete, he’ll have no need to embody himself again.”

A ghost. He called for a ghost, and he’s talking about binding – a Nomu. Tomura’s conjurer is planning to turn you into a Nomu. He tortured you until you lost your will to go on, and as if you needed proof that he succeeded, you’re lying completely unrestrained on the table without even the faintest urge to run. “As for this,” Shigaraki continues, “it’s only fitting that I break Shimura’s last trinket on the day I break her ghost’s will.”

He raises the bracelet and slams it down on the table. You hear it crack. A sheet of white light blasts through the room.

You don’t understand what’s happening. It feels like it happens too fast, and at the same time, you see it in slow motion. Shigaraki’s blown backwards, clawing at his face and howling. The table you were tied to tips and overturns. There’s a sharp sting as the IV comes out of your arm, and pain explodes through your body as you hit the ground and sprawl out. Your mind’s a second or two behind the times. You’re sprawled out on the ground. Your arms and legs are free. You could get up, if you wanted to. You could run.

You struggle to your knees, try to stand, and realize that crawling’s your best bet. In the wreckage of the laboratory, nobody’s paying attention to you – they’re all trying to aid Tomura’s conjurer, who’s still howling in pain. You gather your strength and what’s left of your resolve and crawl for the door.

The operating room was clean and pitilessly bright, but the hallway outside is dingy, and crawling through it feels like it’s going to give you twenty kinds of diseases. It’s that thought that forces you to your feet, and not a second too soon. One of the conjurer’s minions is hurrying down the hallway towards you, carrying a matte-black box that’s rattling in his grip. You don’t even think before you act. You reach out and swat it from his hands, and the instant it strikes the floor, the ghost inside it bursts free.

The ghost could kill you. You see her thinking about it, but then the conjurer’s servant lunges through her, towards you, and she materializes all at once. You’ve never seen a ghost trap someone else with its own body before, and it’s hideous. So is what’s happening to the minion – massive dents are appearing in his body, like the way a car looks after a few rounds in a demolition derby. His eyes are blank as his body deforms, but the ghost looks at you. She has dark skin and pale hair and a look of unrestrained fury in her red eyes. “Run.”

You don’t need to be told more than once. You set off down the hall as fast as you can go, stumbling on almost every step. If anyone catches you, you’re doomed, but if you can get out of the building, maybe – you think about your home, Phantom. Tomura. But even if you make it out of here, you don’t know where you are. You don’t have money or your phone or your ID. You don’t even have clothes. When you hit the street, you’ll be doing it bloodstained and in your underwear, and there’s no guarantee that you’ll make it that far. You remind yourself again. Phantom. Tomura. You have to.

Something seizes you from behind, and your destroyed vocal cords shudder around a scream – but it’s only the ghost from the box. She begins to drag you down the hall, much faster than you were able to move on your own. “I’ll get you out, but that’s it,” she says through clenched teeth. “Whatever you did in there, do it again as soon as we’re outside.”

You still have the other bracelet. You nod and struggle to pick up speed, but the ghost makes an irritated sound and yanks you completely off your feet. It’s faster this way. Still, you’d give almost anything not to see the long smear of blood your body is leaving on the ground, and of course being dragged around like this hurts. Everything hurts. You’ve never felt pain like this before. All you want is for it to stop.

No, that’s not all you want. You want to go home. You think of Phantom, think of Tomura, and hold on tight as the ghost kicks down a door and drags you through onto the street.

It’s almost full dark. The air smells sooty and metallic, which tells you that you’re in the old manufacturing district, a long way from anybody who could have heard you scream. The ghost drops you next to the building and gestures impatiently. “Do it. You’ll need every second of a head start.”

You raise your left hand and bang your wrist against the wall of the building. Not hard enough. You throw yourself against the wall, hoping your body weight will do the trick, but there’s no luck there, either. “We’re too close,” the ghost says suddenly. “Give me that.”

She pries the bracelet off your wrist, drags you five feet, ten feet, twenty feet away, then hurls the bracelet against the wall from a distance. The blast of light takes a chunk out of the side of the building, and the entire thing begins to collapse – but that’s all you see of it. The ghost drags you away from the damaged building, towards the more populated downtown. As bad as being dragged across the floor in the warehouse was, being dragged across concrete is worse. You black out after about three seconds, and this time, there’s no conjurer trying to wake you up.

The next time you come to, you’re huddled in an alleyway, limbs flopping uselessly as the ghost tries to stuff you into a set of clothes that smell freshly stolen. “Go out there,” she snaps at you once she sees you’re awake. “Someone will see this and help you. This is as far as I go.”

“Thank you,” you mumble. “You got me out –”

“We got each other out. He dropped my box because of you.” The ghost straightens your shirt, then hauls you upright by the front of it. “Good luck, human.”

“Wait,” you say, and the ghost glances at you again. “What’s your name?”

“Rumi.” The ghost dematerializes and vanishes completely.

Rumi’s saved your life, and now she’s saving her own. The rest is up to you. You lean against the wall for a moment, fighting off the urge to lay down and give up, then start down the alleyway and into the street.

It’s a street you recognize. You lived near here, in the last apartment you had before you bought your house. It’s been almost two years. You don’t know anyone here you can ask for help, so you struggle down the sidewalk, pausing at one of the city’s few remaining payphones before realizing that you don’t have anyone’s number memorized. You could look through the phone book – Mr. Yagi’s almost certainly listed – but that would take money and time, and you’re getting unsteadier on your feet by the second. You spot the sign for the train station up ahead and aim for it. The train will take you out of the city, and maybe you can sit down.

Hopping the turnstiles is something you’re familiar with, but your muscles are desperately weak. You get one leg over, then get stuck, and sprawl out hard on the tiles on the far side. You know you leave smears of blood when you get to your feet, but the clothes Rumi stole for you don’t show it except in slick, dark spots, and there are so many of them that it probably looks like a pattern in the fabric. You leave the bloody outline of your body on the floor and pick yourself up again, dragging yourself onto the first train that pulls into the station. You hope it’s the right one.

On board, you huddle in your seat, shivering. You’ve always liked the cold, but you’re used to being cold on the outside – from air or water or wind or from Tomura wrapping himself around you, visible or not. This cold is crawling up from inside you, cold like the world between, hollowing you out one cell at a time. No matter how tightly you curl up, you can’t shake it. It hurts so badly. Everything hurts, and there’s no one to help you, and you’re so far from home. And even if you make it, you’re a mess. You’ll have scars, horrible ones, and enough nightmares to keep you awake for the rest of your life. Imagining going back to work, back to your life, feels impossible. What’s the point?

The point is Phantom, who loves you. The point is Tomura, who loves you too, who will never forgive you if you leave him like this, or at all. You have to keep it together for them. At least long enough to see them one more time.

By some miracle you got on the right train, the one that runs all the way out of the city proper to reach your stop. When you hear your stop called, you haul yourself upright and stagger off the train, leaving another bloodstain on the seat you were in. You almost make it down the stairs from the platform, but you miss a step and fall down three more, sprawling out headfirst on the concrete. You barely bring your arms up in time to shield your face. And then you’re stuck. You don’t have the energy to pick yourself back up again, and even if you could, it’s still miles between you and home. Instead of trying to rise again, you curl up, whimpering when the movement breaks the few scabs that have managed to form over your wounds. You have a hard time imagining you have any blood left to lose.

This is it. This is how you die, then – in a bloody heap on the sidewalk, because you could escape but you couldn’t make it home. You’re going to leave him. It’s the last thing you want, but you can’t help it. Maybe you can find some way to stick around, just like Yoichi did, but deep in your heart you know you’re not that strong. You’ll leave Tomura, go where humans go, and you’ll never see each other again.

The thought makes you cry, but crying hurts your throat, and the horrible raspy sounds you’re making do a great job of covering up the sound of a car pulling over. Then the sound of footsteps. But there’s no way you can miss the sound of your own name, shouted in a familiar voice. “Hey, where have you been?” Spinner demands. “If you don’t get back soon, Tomura’s going to – wait, are you okay? Did you fall?”

“I knew I smelled blood!” Himiko’s here, too. You hear a car door slam shut, and more footsteps darting towards you. “A lot of blood. Not all of it’s hers.”

“Did she kill somebody?” A hand reaches out and shakes your shoulder, then recoils – just like you’re doing, because their hand came down over one of your wounds. “Fuck, look at this. She didn’t try to kill somebody, they tried to kill her. Get her up.”

Hands seize you – at least three sets of hands, three people pulling you upright. “Careful,” Spinner is pleading. “Don’t touch the blood –”

“I can’t do shit about that. It’s everywhere.” Now you can place the third voice – it’s Dabi. What is Dabi doing out here? “Something fucked her up bad.”

You force your eyes open and see that you’re being carried towards the dark shape of the Buibaigawara family’s minivan. Jin is in the driver’s seat, and you see him grinning at you. “Hey, there you are! We gotta get – Himiko, shit, is that blood? Did you do that?”

“I wouldn’t,” Himiko snaps at him, sounding more than a little hurt. “Somebody cut Tomura’s human. We have to take her to the hospital.”

“No.” The voice from the passenger seat sounds more like Kurogiri than Shirakumo right now. “We must return to the neighborhood.”

“You’re not the one with her blood all over your hands. She could be dying!” Spinner protests. “If we get her to the hospital –”

“She’s vulnerable to the conjurer,” Kurogiri says. Dabi, Spinner, and Himiko dump you into the middle row of seats in the van and he twists around to look at you. “He’s the one who did this.”

“I got away.” You cringe from the sound of your own voice. “He got hurt. Maybe dead.”

“Did you see the body?” Dabi asks. You shake your head. “If you didn’t see it, he’s not dead.”

“He’s right. If Tomura wasn’t materialized when it happened, the conduit was still open, and he could have used Tomura’s power to survive.” Spinner looks miserable. “We can’t know for sure.”

“We have to go back,” Kurogiri repeats. “Jin, drive.”

The minivan lurches into motion. Himiko and Spinner are trying to figure out what to do about your injuries, while Dabi gets on the phone. “We’ve got her. Pull everybody back,” he says. You can’t hear the other person’s response, but you hear Dabi’s answer. “She looks like something mauled her.”

“It’s not that bad,” Spinner says hastily, trying to reassure you. It’s – sweet. “You’re going to be fine. I bet they’re not as bad as they – holy shit –”

Himiko’s just pulled up your shirt. Spinner rolls down the window in a hurry and sticks his head out, gagging, while Himiko stares for a moment with her jaw dropped. Then her pupils narrow to slits, sheer rage settling over her face. “He cut out Tomura’s marks,” she says. Dabi swears into the phone, then swears again as the person on the other end of the line barks at him in response. “I’ll cut him.”

You always thought Tomura’s thing about not touching other ghosts’ humans was just a weird Tomura thing, given how much time Dabi and Hizashi spend lowkey threatening you, but apparently it’s not. The idea of someone removing a ghost’s marks on their human is enough to seriously piss off Dabi, Himiko, and Kurogiri at once, until the car is crackling with their fury. “Can you guys cool it?” Jin asks anxiously. “I’m a nervous driver.”

“You sped the whole way here!”

“I was nervous about finding her. Now I’m nervous about you guys blowing up my mom’s car,” Jin says. “What’s going on is fucked. I want to kill something! But if even I can pick up on what all of you are doing, Tomura will, too.”

“We can’t let that happen,” Spinner says at once. “If he finds out about this he’ll go ballistic. There’s no way he’ll stick to the plan.”

“You can’t just hide it. I could smell her blood from down the street.” Himiko peers at you, her pupils dilating again. “And her soul’s not right. It’s unstuck, kind of. It’s wrong. He’ll know. He’ll know his marks are gone, too.”

Dabi hangs up the phone, then dials another number. He speaks while it’s ringing. “I’m letting the humans know. He can’t read them like he reads us. When we get back, you all get on her and stay there. You too, Kurogiri. As long as she smells like the neighborhood he might not notice.”

“She’s still bleeding,” Spinner says loudly. “If we bring her back and she dies –”

“Keigo knows doctor shit. He can help her.” Whoever Dabi’s calling picks up the phone, and Dabi starts talking. “Yeah, we’ve got her. She’s fucked up. Here’s what we’ll do –”

You’re among friends now. People who will help you, whether it’s out of obligation or because they care, and now that you know you’re not going to die alone, it’s somehow harder to hang on. The drive back to the neighborhood goes by in a long, slow blink, punctuated by Himiko and Spinner repeatedly shaking you awake. “Come on,” Spinner says, still sounding sort of like he wants to throw up. “You have to make it through this. Tomura’s naming his Pokémon all kinds of stupid shit and you’re the only one who can talk him out of it.”

“Stay awake,” Himiko tells you. She’s been patting your cheek lightly, which you don’t mind. Your face and neck are the only parts of you that the conjuror left untouched. “You’re my only human girl neighbor. I’ll be sad if you die. Tomura will be so sad if you die. You don’t want him to be sad, do you? You love him. Humans don’t want the people they love to be sad.”

“Ghosts don’t, either,” Dabi mutters. Then, to Jin: “Park at the top of the street, across the street. Everybody’s falling back to my house and the idiot’s. We could use the extra barricade.”

Jin skids to a stop at the top of the street, and Spinner opens the door. You see people hurrying up the street towards you and identify them distantly – Keigo, Hizashi. They reach you just as everyone else is hauling you out of the car. Hizashi takes one look at you and swears, his pupils narrowing to slits just like Himiko’s did. The embodied ghosts never look more inhuman than when they’re angry. “When he gets here, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Calm down,” Spinner begs. “If he figures it out –”

“He knows she’s back. If you’re any good at lying, Spinner, get down there and tell him we’re hiding her in my house so the conjurer won’t find her when he comes looking for him.” Hizashi’s a good liar, and it’s a logical plan, but you absolutely don’t want to be left alone with Hizashi right now. “Keigo, Dabi, with us. Everybody else, battle stations. Shigaraki’s on his way here, and he’s not happy.”

The group splits, Himiko bolting down the street while the others follow at a slower pace. You’ve had enough of a rest that you think you can maybe walk a few feet, past Atsuhiro’s house and up Aizawa’s front steps, if only so Tomura doesn’t spot you being carried and catch on to what’s really happening. Keigo hovers next to you, ready to catch you if you stumble, while Dabi and Hizashi trail behind you. “What are you doing up here?” Dabi asks Hizashi. “He trusts you about as far as he could throw your rotting corpse.”

“So, pretty far, then.” Hizashi ignores the disgusted noise Dabi makes. “He trusts my human more than me, and my human can lie to him better than I can. And since he’s got my human right now, he’s got all the leverage on me he needs to make sure I’m right here to take the hit against his asshole conjurer.”

“Fucking asshole. And I thought ours was bad.”

“Ours didn’t need us like his needs him.” Hizashi snarls low under his breath. “Cutting out the marks is a new low. It would have been better if he’d just killed her.”

“Don’t say that,” Keigo snaps at him. You push open the front door, then stumble over the threshold into the house. Keigo catches you, guiding you towards the kitchen, and – “Hey, calm down! I just need to get a look at your injuries!”

You can’t look at the kitchen table without feeling sick. “I’m not laying there.”

“Fine. The living room. Get on the floor.”

The floor is fine. It has a carpet, and Keigo yanks a pillow off the couch for you to prop your head on before he pulls out a pair of scissors and starts cutting away your bloody clothes. He studies you and sucks in a breath. “Okay, cleaning these out and bandaging them is the best I can do, but it’s not going to be enough. The skin’s the biggest organ in the body and right now it’s got a bunch of holes in it. You need antibiotics and some of that fake skin as soon as we can get it, or sepsis will set in and kill you.”

“You can’t just stitch it up?” Dabi asks. “That’s what you did for me.”

You wonder what the story was there. “These are too wide for me to do it with what I’ve got here,” Keigo says. He looks down at you. “The cleaning part is going to suck. Can you keep quiet?”

You nod. He doesn’t look convinced, so you clear your throat and try to talk. “I can take it. It won’t be as bad as when it happened.”

“What happened, exactly?” Hizashi asks. He’s at the front window, while Dabi leans with his back to the door. “We’ve been careful. You had those bracelets. When did we get made?”

“Same day –” The cleaning process starts in earnest, and you hiss in pain. “Same day we killed Garaki. I left to get the plants. I met him at the nursery.”

Dabi makes a skeptical noise. “You had the bracelets. Those things work. He shouldn’t have been able to tell.”

“He could.” You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to howl. What was it that Shigaraki said? “He said I had ghostly energy. That I was full of it.”

“Ugh. Don’t tell me shit like that. I don’t want to know.”

“That’s not what he meant,” Hizashi says suddenly. He turns to look at you, and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he looks like he’d seen a ghost. “When did you meet him? Before Tomura’s lesson or after?”

The fact that Keigo’s helping you instead of hurting you on purpose doesn’t make what he’s doing hurt even less. You squeeze your eyes shut. “After.”

“Fuck,” Hizashi mumbles. “It’s my fault.”

“Huh?” Keigo sounds puzzled. “It sounds like bad luck.”

“It’s not. I made Tomura practice discharging power before the fight, and I made him practice on her.” Hizashi’s voice is full of venom. “He’s got the self-control of an elephant on an acid trip, so of course he overdid it. The bracelets wouldn’t have done shit to hide her after that. Anybody who was looking could have seen her from space.”

You remember something he said that day: She’ll glow in the dark until it wears off. Hizashi was trying to make you leave, but all he did was turn you into a walking signpost pointed directly at the neighborhood. Is it his fault? Blaming him would feel good, maybe, if none of the rest of this had happened. You don’t want to think about it. All you want is not to hurt anymore.

It’s cold, and getting colder. You think some of that could be the blood loss, and the fact that your clothes are partially in tatters once again, but when you exhale, you can see your breath. Keigo notices, too, and you watch the blood drain from his face. “Guys –”

Hizashi and Dabi are huddled by the window. “These can’t all be his,” Hizashi is hissing.

“They’re not. I’ve seen some of them before,” Dabi hisses. “They’re like you. They came here on purpose, and now they’re free.”

“And they’re following him?” Keigo says, incredulous. “Why?”

“For kicks? I don’t know.” Hizashi shrugs uselessly. “I’m a little out of touch these days.”

You can hear low whispering from outside the house, and the air is getting colder by the second. If everybody else is down at the other end of the street – “Call them. Warn them –”

“They know already,” Hizashi says grimly. “Trust me.”

Just like Garaki before him, Tomura’s conjurer speaks first. The mirror sound of his voice makes you cringe and curl in on yourself. “Good evening, Tomura,” Shigaraki Akira says. “What a quiet life you’ve led since we last saw each other.”

Dabi and Hizashi rose to the bait instantly when Garaki called out to them. Tomura stays silent. “Not even a greeting?” Shigaraki asks, and clucks his tongue. “I suppose I never taught you manners.”

“You’re trespassing.” Tomura’s voice rings out, vibrating with power. “This is my neighborhood. Get out.”

Shigaraki clucks his tongue again. “Poor thing. I see now that I’ve been neglectful. I should never have left you with the impression that this was your home.”

“How many are out there?” Keigo asks, keeping his voice low.

“Hundreds,” Dabi says, and the floor feels as though it’s fallen out beneath you. “Nomus. Embodied ghosts. Live ones.”

“None of them are his,” Hizashi says. There’s a savage note in his voice. “He’s only got one.”

Tomura hasn’t responded to his conjurer’s latest taunt. His conjurer speaks again. “You’ve built quite a comfortable existence for yourself, haven’t you? A secluded kingdom. Servants who bend to your whims. Even a human of your own.”

“What human?” Tomura scoffs. “I don’t have a human.”

Even knowing he’s trying to protect you, even knowing that he’s lying, your heart sinks. “You know better than to lie to me,” the conjurer says. That almost-indulgent note is back in his voice. You roll to one side and dry-heave onto Aizawa’s carpets. “Where is the human girl? Has she failed to return home?”

“She’s home,” Tomura snaps. “Safe from you.”

“Have you seen her?” Shigaraki inquires. He sounds honestly concerned. “Who told you that she’s home? The others? The ones who fear your wrath so deeply that they have every reason to lie?”

“She’s here.” This time, it’s Shirakumo who answers – Shirakumo, not Kurogiri. “You know I’m telling the truth, Tomura. So is Himiko.”

“Yes, your human is home,” the conjurer agrees. “But safe? I think not. Dabi, Hizashi, Keigo – come out. Bring Tomura’s human to him.”

“No,” Tomura says, but there’s an uncertain note in his voice. “Stay where you are.”

“Come out,” the conjurer repeats. “No one will harm you on your way. Tomura’s human is in a delicate condition. I won’t risk anyone dropping her.”

He’s pretending like he’s not the one who did this to you. Like he really cares about making sure you get back to Tomura safely. “Stay where you are,” Tomura orders again. “You can’t trust him.”

“I’m the only one here who’s telling you the truth,” Shigaraki says. “Hizashi, Dabi, Keigo. Bring the human out. If you won’t, I’ll be forced to send my friends to retrieve her – and unlike me, they don’t much care about preserving your lives.”

You lift your head with an effort and see Dabi and Hizashi trade a glance. Then they turn from the window and come towards you. “It’s strategy,” Hizashi insists as he drops a coat over you, as Dabi hoists you upright. “If they come get us here, we’re all dead. Your house is a lot easier to defend.”

But he wouldn’t let you go back unless he thought it wouldn’t matter. He’s playing all of you, and you’re too weak and exhausted to see what his endgame is. You’re semiconscious as Keigo, Dabi, and Hizashi carry you down the front steps, but you keep your eyes open with an effort, and you see the conjurer’s army parting the way to make a path, one that runs straight as an arrow down the street until it reaches your house. Hizashi sets a brisk pace, just below a jog, and you jostle along between he and the others. You don’t see where the conjurer is, but you hear his voice. “Very good,” he says, encouraging. “A wise choice. I’m sure Tomura will be merciful in turn.”

You hear the others’ voices as you get closer to the house, all of them trying for damage control. You start agitating to be set down. You can’t risk Tomura losing his temper on the others, and the worse off he thinks you are, the angrier he’ll be. He needs to see that you’re fine. You’ll be fine. Keigo sets you down carefully, then steps in close, arm around you to hold you upright. You survive the step up onto the sidewalk and shuffle along until you’re walking parallel to your own fenced yard. You have to keep walking. You have to keep walking long enough for Tomura to let Hizashi and Dabi in, or he’ll strand them outside.

The gate swings open as you reach it, and Tomura’s voice drifts in from nowhere. “She wasn’t wearing that when she left,” he says. Dabi steps through, then Hizashi, and he shuts the gate behind him. You have time to register that every last one of your neighbors is inside the property line before your vision begins to blur. It’s not blurry enough to block out Tomura as he materializes at the top of the front steps. His next question is for you. “Why were you late?”

You can’t talk. Talking will give it away. You climb the first step, then the next, and it’s not until you’re just outside the warm glow of the porch light that your legs give out.

#lovhalloweenhorror #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #reader insert #x reader #shigaraki tomura #ghost story #loser nerd ghost boyfriend

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cinnapuppymilk · 1 year

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Rose Thorn in His Side(Chpt 2)

A/N: Thank you to everyone who put up with my account switch!! Yall are the real ones.

This part is long, I hope that isn't a problem :v I promise after this it's gonna be SOO much more interaction with Death..fluffy interactions..cute interactions..spicy interactions..hehe.

Also I put my own spin on how Death collects souls, I hope yall like it! Mwah mwah mwah, please enjoy!

TW: Alcoholism, death(like, someone dying.)

Chapter one 🔽

Chapter Two: Deadly Reveal

That next morning, you enjoyed the peaceful bliss that was an empty mind in the first few seconds of waking up. No thoughts or worries, just the calmness of the usual first morning stretch.

. . .

Though your calves hurt more than usual.

Suddenly, within a split second, you remembered why, ruining the morning calm.

Mateo's morning interruption. The bar. Gabriella being the most freaked out you ever saw her. Death. His eyes. His voice. His poncho. The rain. The walk. His fur against your cheek as he carried you. His goodbye. It all came back like a movie being played 10 times the normal speed.

You rubbed your face with your hands, hoping to wipe away the tired feeling.

You felt a bit stupid, you would normally never let a stranger walk you home after only an hour of meeting. Let alone let them be close enough to carry you. You didn't even feel entirely comfortable with Mateo giving you a friendly pat and you've known him for five years.

You decided you'd blame it all on being tired from a double shift, not wanting any more overthinking to happen this morning. Though, in the back of your mind flashes of Death kept appearing while you got up and ready for the day.

You sat down at the dining table for what you thought was morning tea, however glancing at the clock revealed it was 1pm already. So you had to have slept in. You frowned, upset that your normal schedule was messed up for the second day in a row.

Deciding that you needed fresh air to soothe your mood, you took your tea to the front porch of your cottage and sat in the rocking chair placed neatly in front of a window.

The air smelled damp and earthy. Like him.

'. . . . I don't want to see you too soon.' His words replayed in your mind.

You wondered what that could've meant, worried that it means he won't be back anytime soon.

You then racked your brain on why you cared so much. You don't know him, there isn't a meaningful connection. There isn't any connection at all, he's a customer who was kind enough to lend you his poncho on your walk home. Nothing more.

Though even with all of that being true, you couldn't shake the want to see him again. You couldn't shake the memory of his eyes and smile, his voice, his smell. You couldn't shake him.

"Buenas tardes Y/N!" Diego's voice shattered your thought bubble...to your appreciation.

You saw his lanky figure try to approach your front yard, attempting not to slip in the mud.

"I would help you, but I think you might deserve to have a sore ass today." You laughed while getting up to help him anyways.

Thankfully, he was able to manage before you got to him. You really didn't want to get covered in mud.

"Sí, sí. Tienes razón (you're right.), I am an absolute lowlife," he chuckled while finally approaching you.

"But that's why I'm here now! I want to make it up to you. We can go out to town, everything you get is on me, promise." He gave you a wide smile.

Normally, you would rather spend your off time at home, learning a new hobby and tending to your small vegetable garden. You enjoyed living away from all the noise and movement of the town, you felt like you could breathe easy in your little cottage.

Simultaneously, however, today was different. You didn't want to be left alone with your thoughts, going back and forth on how you felt about Death. Thinking about if you'd see him again, or if you should even want to. A distraction from all that mental conflict would be nice.

"Ahh, well. I guess you can convince me to let you buy me breakfast at a café. Let me grab a jacket."

_________________________________________

The inner most section of town was only about a 20 minute walk from your home. To avoid any more shameful thoughts about your night with Death, you decided to interrogate Diego on the walk over.

You knew he had a drinking problem, it was evident when he showed up for work a bit woozy every now and then. He was also a lightweight, you felt bad that he was burdened with such a terrible combo.

"Soo, I thought you said you were gonna say no next time Mateo offered a shot or two..or five." you said carefully, not wanting to offend him.

Diego gave a deep sigh before responding.

"No is a hard word to find when drinks get mixed in...but I'm trying, that night will be my last relapse. Wouldn't want you covering for my sorry tail all the time otherwise you'd get sick of me." He laughed, trying to keep the mood light.

You nodded and asked him the normal run around questions. How have you been, done anything new, blah blah blah.

You focused hard on his rambling answers, not wanting to let your mind wander.

When you finally arrived to the café, Diego sped ahead of you, rushing to pull out a seat for you. You shook your head playfully at his over the top gesture.

You both looked over the menus, ordered and chatted about the mundane.

Completely unaware you were being watched from the moment you left your door.

Across the street, hidden in a shadowed alleyway stood Death, with an annoyed expression resting on his face.

He spent the night thinking about how to handle this situation and his irritating feelings on you.

He's already wasted too much time playing with you and even more time thinking about you. He's death. He has an eternal duty, and nowhere in his job description did it say he had time for...playthings.

But he was also honest with himself. He couldn't get you out of the sacred space that was his head.

His solution was to reveal to you that he really was death, the grim reaper, la muerte etc..then he could watch you flee in terror and be done with it all.

However, his plans were soiled by Diego whisking you away.

Something about Diego pissed Death off.

"¿Por qué estoy perdiendo el tiempo aquí?(Why am I wasting my time here?)" Death growled to himself before vanishing to go back to work. He figured he will settle this where it started, at the bar.

. . .

"Oooh, that looks good." Diego commented on the torrijas that arrived at your table.

Diego ordered just eggs and bacon, which he hardly took notice in as he kept his eyes trained on you.

"So, Gabi told me there was some creep at the bar last night? She said she left you with him and she feels bad about it, what's that all about?" he asked nonchalantly.

This was the last topic you wanted to talk about, however, he asked you so directly, there was no way to avoid it.

"I wouldn't say creep, I mean his looks were intimidating I guess? Well anyway, there wasn't any problems with him and I'm not upset with Gabi over it, I mean she takes customers I don't wanna deal with for me all the time so, we're even." you stared down at your food, feeling a bit guilty. Somehow, you felt like you were lying by not mentioning the full details.

"Well hopefully he won't show up to the party tonight cause I'd beat his a-"

"What party?" you interrupted Diego before he inflated his ego too much.

"Y/N, no seas estúpido (don't be stupid), it's the first of October. Maria always throws a party, it's her birthday month. We do this every year, how do you not remember by now."

"Ah damn, you're right...she's crazy, celebrating for a whole month sounds so tiring." you said while finishing up the last bit of your food.

"So hey, you skip the party every year..why not change it up and go this time? I'll be your party buddy and you can keep my drinking in check" he laughed, placing the money for the meal on the table.

Truthfully you normally weren't a party person. You had been to a handful of them and they usually end up with you sweating and hyperventilating in a bathroom stall, suffering from a panic attack.

But your encounter with Death did make you realize you must be seriously socially starved if a brisk walk with a stranger could make you feel so...flustered. You also came to the conclusion that maybe jumping back into the dating pool could be good for you. You hadn't had a romantic relationship since high school after all.

Finishing the last of your orange juice you answered Diego.

"Yeah alright, but promise not to ditch me during okay?"

"That's what I like to hear! Now it is a costume party so, we'll have to find you something to go in. But hey no worries, we're in town now so we can find something here." Diego said while standing up to leave.

You hadn't realized you'd have to dress up, and the thought of it made you kinda want to back out, but reluctantly you let Diego take you to a clothing shop anyway. You wanted to give your all into enjoying this experience.

. . .

Entering the shop you were greeted by a young woman who encouraged you to check out their extensive Halloween costume section.

"Hmm, I think we should find you something cute to wear, not too flashy, easy on the eyes..like you." Diego said as he bumped his elbow into your arm.

You decided to ignore the flirting and instead started to scan the racks of clothing, hoping to find something you'd be comfortable in.

Diego started to rummage through clothing, apparently eager to help you find a costume.

"Soo, what are you going as?" you asked plainly while scanning a skeleton body suit.

"Ah you know me, I gotta go big or go home so I'm going as a pirate all decked out in everything gold I could get my hands on." He said ruffling through more costumes.

You were about to give up your search and just go as a sheet ghost before Diego called out to you in joy.

"I found the perfect costume! Come here, come try it on!!" he said a little too loudly, causing the cashier to glare at him breifly.

He held out to you a red hood accompanied by an old-timey looking blouse and black corset attached to a silky red skirt for the bottom.

"It's Red Riding Hood! You'd look so cute in this!" Diego was beaming proudly at his find.

Not really wanting to go as a sheet ghost, you took the costume and headed for the dressing room.

Putting the costume on, you were pleased with how it fitted your body. Hugging the right places, while being flowy where it needed to be. Diego wasn't wrong, you did look cute.

When you exited the dressing room you saw Diego's disappointed expression.

"Aww what you're not gonna show me?" he whined.

"You'll see at the party anyways." you shrugged.

Diego paid for the costume and you both left the shop.

"Well, the party is at 10, so you should go home and get ready. Can't wait to see you there!" Diego chimed as you parted ways.

. . .

That night you had gotten dressed and admittedly were having to convince yourself time and time again to just go. You tried hard to silence the nagging voice in your head telling you to stay home and feign sickness the next day.

You took a deep breath in before opening the bar doors and stepping inside.

The bar was filled to the brim with people, some you recognized others you don't. All of them laughing, drinking and dancing in their costumes.

You looked around to try and spot any of your coworkers. Suddenly, an arm wrapped itself around your shoulders, startling you.

"You actually came!! That's good cause I didn't buy that costume for nothing..speaking of, you look adorable Y/N!"

It was Diego and you could instantly smell the liquor on his breath.

"Yeah I came, I didn't wanna leave you hanging..plus I'm supposed to keep you in check, have you had any drinks?" you asked, slipping out from under Diego's arm.

"Ah yeah, just two shots though, no more, I promise!" He laughed and whisked you away to a table before you could scold him.

At the table sat a group of people you didn't recognize but were supposedly Diego's friends. They were loud, slamming drinks on the table, screaming in each other's faces, pushing and pulling on one another. Deigo joined in the fun but you sat quietly, giving small smiles to the group whenever one of them accidentally bumped into you.

For the first half hour you did fine, even made a few light jokes and took a few shots to loosen up, however when the alcohol hit your head, you started becoming more and more sensitive to the lights and sounds around you. It started to become a bit much to handle.

You felt your face getting warm and you started to notice how much your clothes rubbed against your fur, making you uncomfortable. You attempted to take a calming breath in but it felt like the heavy scent of liquor and sweat absorbed all the oxygen. Your breaths became shallow and your mouth dry. You tugged on Diego's arm, wanting to ask him to move to a quieter spot for just a few seconds.

"Diego I think I need a break-" you started only to have Diego lightly shove you off of him. You looked up at him with confusion.

"It's a party, you want a break? You go home." he slurred his words a bit before taking another shot.

You decided to shake the hurt you felt from his comment and push.

"Hey, I think you've had too much to drink, let's go get water and-" you tried to pull Diego away from the table only to be shoved harder this time, almost causing you to fall backwards.

"Go get your water then." Diego said before returning his attention to his drinks and friends.

You felt the sting of tears in your eyes but blinked them away before heading towards the bar to get water. To your relief, you saw Gabi in an angel costume at the bar, making herself a drink.

When you got there, Gabi immediately saw the tired hurt in your eyes.

"Oh honey, you tried. You can't change him. Trust me, I also attempted to keep him sober. It's like stopping a fish from getting water" She guided your head to rest on her shoulder and gave you a few back pats.

She then pulled away and poured you a glass of water. You gladly accepted, grateful to have a 'mom' friend like Gabriella.

"You can hang with me for the rest of the night, I'm way more fun anyway" she winked at you.

You smile and nodded. She gently led you to a cleared spot in the bar, meant to be a makeshift dancefloor. She grabbed your hands and swayed to the music, singing along terribly. You couldn't help but laugh and sway with her. You felt a weight evaporate off of your chest and felt like you could breathe again.

After a bit of dancing, Gabi slowly came to a stop, staring off at a certain direction.

"No way that stalker-looking dog came back, who even invited him?" she scowled.

You immediately whipped your head in the direction she was looking. Your chest felt tight again..but this time in anticipation.

In a table all the way in the corner of the bar, sat Death. Looking straight at you with a grin on his face.

'Why is he here? He doesn't know Maria, so he wasn't invited. He only knows me...sort of. Did he come to see me?'

The thought of that made your heart flutter. Suddenly you and Death were locked in a staring contest, neither of you wanting to look away.

"I can get some guys to throw him out, hold on-" Gabi interrupted your stare down with Death.

"No no!..ah I mean, he's fine. I invited him." you lied.

"Oh, well then.. maybe you should talk to him. He's all by himself. Not that I care though, I'm gonna make another drink." Gabi said in shock. She gave you a quick hug before leaving for the bar.

You turned your attention back to Death who never stopped looking at you. He motioned his head towards the seat across from him at table.

Your heart did flips as you approached his table and sat down.

"No drink conejita?" he said tilting his head.

"I'm off the clock..and I've personally had enough to drink.." you said trying to keep your composure. You felt so confused yet happy in this moment.

Death nodded before shifting his gaze to look at something behind you.

"I think your friend has also had enough to drink." he laughed lightly.

You turned your head to see Diego drunkenly picking a fight with a stranger twice his size.

"Aye Diego..." you said putting your face in your hands. You were embarrassed Death saw you and him together while he acted like a fool.

Death gave a deep laugh that made you feel something you couldn't explain.

You looked up at him, you weren't sure if your cheeks were burning from the alcohol or your shyness. Even so, the alcohol gave you some courage and you were feeling ecstatic now that you're with Death again.

"So, you crashed the party and if Maria sees you she's gonna lose it..how come you're here?" you asked trying to not stare at his eyes.

"I needed to see you again." he stated plainly.

That sentence made something in you snap.

"Well I'm here." you breathed shallowly, your voice low, unable to hide the way you were feeling.

"Indeed you are, conejita." Death said in a similar tone, leaning forward.

You swore the entire world started moving in slow motion. Death was close enough to you that you could feel his breath on your fur. It took everything in you to not lean forward and rest your head in the crook of his neck.

'I really did have too much to drink' you thought helplessly.

You wanted to ask him a million questions about himself, you opened your mouth to speak only for his voice to ring out first.

"It's warm in here, no? Why not take another walk." He said standing up. You frowned at the sudden space he put between you and him.

Looking behind you, you saw Gabriella and Maria dancing together sloppily with huge smiles on their face. You also spotted Mateo for the first time tonight, flirting with a girl by the bar. Finally, you saw Diego, cursing while holding a cold glass of beer to his now blackened eye while his friends assure him it wasn't his fault.

'I feel kinda bad just leaving them without saying anything..' you thought before turning back to Death who now stood against the entrance doors in his dark poncho. He smiled at you before speaking, just barely audible to your ears in a smooth but teasing tone,

"You coming little bunny?"

'Nope, I don't feel bad at all.'

You followed Death out the door, into the cool dark night.

________________________________________

The alcohol was definitely affecting you more than you accounted for as you followed Death blindly in a random direction, no clue as to where you're going.

Again, normally something you wouldn't do.

Death was moving quicker than you remember him moving last time, it took a bit of effort to keep in step with him.

Happy to be alone with him again, you took this time to ask him everything that was on your tipsy mind.

"Why did you need to see me?" you asked.

"I want to show you something." he stated with amusement in his voice.

"Like what?"

"I want you to see my work."

"Oh you're job...but it's so late, what jobs still runs this late?"

"I don't get breaks." he said plainly.

"Well that's kinda dumb..and maybe even illegal? What's your job?" you furrowed your brows, trying to understand what he was saying.

"I'm Death." he said deadpanned.

"Yeah I know." you said matter of factly.

He laughed that deep laugh that made your heart flutter in your chest.

He then stopped to crouch down and face you so that he was just above eye level to you.

He raised his paw to your cheek and gently brushed his thumb across it.

Your breath hitched and suddenly your chest felt tight.

"I take the souls of the dead..." he whispered in a way that had you completely frozen in place.

He moved his paw to cup your chin and gently lifted your head so that your eyes met head on.

"and bring them to the afterlife." he was dangerously close to your face. Your heart skipped beats in anticipation for his next move.

"and there's no one.." he gently skimmed his claw from your jawline all the way down your neck.

"Who has ever escaped me." he finished in a deep hushed voice. He gently pinched your cheek before standing back up.

You let go of a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Oh, I see.." you said quietly, your body still reeling from his touch. You didn't even really pay attention to what he had said.

"We're here conejita." Death said looking into the distance at something.

You moved to the side slightly to try and see what Death was looking at. A little bit away from where you both stood, a man sat slumped against a well, clearly intoxicated. He swished his beer bottle around, mumbling a song that sounded like something a sailor would sing.

Not understanding if that's what you were supposed to be looking at, you looked up at Death who now had an almost disappointed expression on his face.

Shifting your gaze back to the man, you could see his movements slow, as he started to slump to the side more and more, eventually laying on his side completely. His bottle spilling out onto the street.

"Did he just-"

"Die. Yes, yes he did." Death cut you off.

Your heart began to race and your mind filled suddenly with a million thoughts.

'What should I do. Do we get help? Do we call someone?? Can we revive him?? Did I actually just watch someone die??'

"No..wait I'm sure we can-" you began to take steps towards the man, but Death put a paw on your chest to stop you in your tracks.

"There's nothing anyone can do for him now." He said emotionless. He then approached the man, crouching down next to him.

"Then what are you doing??" you asked, following him, absolutely confused by what's going on.

"I told you..." Death started. He took out a sickle you didn't know he had and swiped it at the man. You gasped, but before you could say anything you were once again in awe of what you saw. On the point of the sickle there was a glowing ball of light. Death grabbed it and held the soft glowing ball of light in his paw. It looked ethereal, both tangible but also as if it could disappear at any moment.

Death brought the ball to his mouth, and said something inaudible. Then suddenly, the ball of light blew away, as if it were merely made of sand.

"I'm Death." he said coldly.

A few short seconds of confusion followed before finally your brain put all the pieces together.

You stared at him, unable to find the right words to say.

He once again crouched down to your level.

"And I don't mean it in any other way than literal. When your grandfather died, I was there. When your friends die, I'll be there, when you die, I'll. Be. Right. There. So whatever infatuation you have with me can end now. Go on. Run away like all little bunnies do." he said in a cold and harsh tone.

You admit, you had natural instincts that were screaming at you to run. But you also were...annoyed?

What did him being Death have to do with you? He wasn't soul reaping when he teased and taunted you at the bar that first night. He wasn't the grim reaper when he carried you home. He didn't have to be some terrifying entity that no one can get close to.

You felt frustration build in your chest and decided not to hold it back.

"What does that have to do with me liking you?! You don't get to decide if I like you or not, I do! You don't get to make me feel things and then think I'm gonna just run away over something like that! You started this with me, so finish it and walk me home!"

You yelled at him, using the last of your energy you had for the night. You sighed as you laid yourself down onto the ground, staring up at the night sky, much clearer than it was last time you saw it.

Suddenly you felt your body being lifted off the ground, once again being carried bridal style.

You looked at Death who had a grin on his face, looking ahead of him. He then looked down at you and leaned in close to your ear.

You breathed in the familiar after-rain scent he had. Something about that was so calming. You were slightly upset that his poncho stopped you from feeling his fur, but you also couldn't ask for anything more than to be in his arms right now.

"If I promise to stay do you promise not to run?" he said quietly.

You gently tightened your arms around his neck, taking in more of his scent.

"Of course." you hummed into his neck.

Truthfully, Death's entire day went wrong.

He spent the night thinking of you instead of carrying on his work.

He meant to scare you off way earlier in the day, only for your friend to ruin that.

He never meant to crash a party at the bar.

He didn't mean to caress your face.

He meant to scare you off after taking that mans soul.

Truly, he did the opposite of everything he wanted to happen today.

And with a grin on his face while carrying his sleepy little bunny home, he couldn't be happier.

End of Chapter Two.

#pib death #death puss in boots #puss in boots death #puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots #death #death x reader #wolf x reader #lobo x reader #pibtlw #pib the last wish

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where-i-overanalyze · 1 year

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conquering the Soul Eater manga timeline

this can be an open discussion because i haven't read Not and i unfortunately cannot get my hands on any officially translated volumes, so if there's anything that proves my alignments wrong, feel free to tell me and i'll update this!!! i break the timeline up by month and what year of the story we are in. i'm not doing math and not considering the exact days and alignments for what day of the week the dates are lining up on, that is something i am not willing to put myself through. this is post is long af, so if you don't care about all of my explanation, i'll put a summary of the timeline at the end for easy reading.

admittedly, the beginning half of the manga is easier to label because this is when we get some distinct timeframes, but it is still a horror. because of this, i'm going to use this as a reference to how time passes with the other events in the manga. i'll be referencing the Soul Eater wiki as a basic guide as much as i can and scouring the manga for any hints about how time is passing for everything else. honestly, if the second half of the manga was speed run, the entirety of Soul Eater could take place less than a year. i don't think that is the case purely because of the pace at the beginning of the manga, so let us begin.

November (1)

this is where everything starts: the prologue chapters, the remedial lesson with Sid and Stein, Kid enrolling in the DWMA. there is no specific day in which this all starts, the wiki says it's just "after October 31st," so i'm going to start us off on exactly November 1st for the beginning of all of this. every one of these events could easily be happening within the first two weeks of November.

following this, realistically it would be a day or two before Maka and Soul take on the extra lesson where they meet Crona. Soul gets slashed and, according to my google search, wounds that are large or "surgery incisions" usually take about 1 week to stop being super inflamed. total healing times vary, but i'll say that since weapons are kinda human kinda not, that Soul would be able to be up and walking around somewhat normally in about a week, maybe less. last week of November can be when Masamune and Tsubaki's fight takes place, so this is our entire first November stacked up.

December (1)

strong start! and from here on out, the timeline gets confusing. wiki says chapters 10-15 take place from December-February. this includes the Free jailbreak, the super exam, and the whole Nidhogg and Black Dragon mission for Kid. in the next chapter (15), we're at the DWMA Foundation Eve ceremony which is supposed to take place . . . on April 1st.

this is one of the very few times we're given an exact date (Chapter 32), so i'm using it as an anchor for everything else. i'm also going to assume that these students sometimes have days off and breaks and have "normal" school life to a certain extent. i'm also going to assume that they have some sort of winter holiday off, whether it's some sort of Christmas or Yule or just the New Year doesn't matter; what actually matters is that they would get probably 2 or more weeks off of school because of it. they're in Nevada, which means that it is (maybe? probably?) the New years that is on January 1st.

let's say December starts with Chapter 9. it opens with the Witch's Mass where Medusa puts the snakes in Eruka. then it cuts to Soul having a general check-up on his wound. Stein gives Black☆Star the jar of funky water that will strengthen his soul for the phantom sword mode. for the sake of stretching this out to something reasonable, i'm going to say that this check-up takes place at least one week after the Witch's Mass, because Eruka trying to confront Medusa takes place the same day as the check-up and i doubt Eruka would have shown up to confront her like the day after the mass. after this, i want to say that the Free jail and bridge plot takes a while to set up, but . . .

tomorrow. god, i have never hated a word more. this speeds up the entire chain of events with fighting Free on the bridge. i'd say that it takes 2-3 days to break Free out, for Maka and Soul's wavelength to get messed up, and then they fight on the bridge. this puts us at week 2 of December. Maka's hands are fucked up after the fight and Soul makes a comment about how he'll have to make dinner for a while by the looks of her hands, so i'm exploiting that and saying that is when DWMA has their "winter holiday break." while all of that is happening, Crona is harvesting souls and stuff w/ Ragnarok (shown at the end of Chapter 11). i'll say that this is all in preparation for the Nidhogg in a bit.

January & February (1)

and now, we do a little time exploitation. let's say they come back to school the 2nd week of January. Maka's healed, everyone's back, wahoo!! Chapter 12 is the super written exam, and this is where my exploitation comes in.

test in one week, Maka's already been studying for a whole month. i'm imagining the first day back from winter break goes something like this: Stein walks into the room, writes "Super Written Exam" on the chalkboard, slaps it and yells "THIRD WEEK OF FEBRUARY," and Maka goes home that day and immediately starts studying. i know Maka's a nerd and reasonably was studying the whole year and between missions and whatever, but this is for my sanity. scores probably took a whole day to come out and be posted. anyone below Soul (Kid, Liz, Patty, and Black☆Star) had to take extra lessons, so those probably took up the remaining week of February.

March (1)

i am deeming March as the month of nothing but the Nidhogg mission. after the Nidhogg mission and Ragnarok eating all the souls on that boat, it's Kishin revival time at the party, which means the Nidhogg mission needs to be right at the end of March b/c then Kid knows about the Kishin being under the school and i doubt he sat on that information for a super long time or else he would've gone to investigate.

April (1)

April fools, it's Kishin awake time!! this covers Chapter 16-22 and it's got all the fun stuff: the first Crona redemption, the first Medusa death, and Lord Death calling together all of the Death Scythes. this is also supposedly the time when Maka checks out the Book of Eibon from the library, so i'm making the call that she did it after she connected with Crona and before the Death Scythes arrived b/c her purpose for taking it was because she wanted to know more about black blood and Medusa's research and somehow ended up there.

i really can't put a guess on how long it takes the Death Scythes to get to Death City because the speed at which people travel across entire countries in Soul Eater is insane. Kid flew from Egypt to Nevada and back within a day on his skateboard, there is no explanation i can come up with. for the sake of my sanity, let's say that it takes at least a week or two for the Death Scythes to get here b/c they have to find arrangements to take over whatever positions they had at their previous stations. the students are also recovering from various injuries and the city is rebuilding from the fight between Lord Death and Asura

these panels make it seem like at least the DWMA has gone on a break for a bit because of all the Kishin junk and that the Death Scythes arrived the day before school was resuming. let's say that the "tomorrow" is going to start the Monday of the third week of April.

this puts Crona's trial day of school as the Monday of the last week of April since Maka's day with her dad already happened (presumably the day before). Crona's been in the dungeon ever since April 1st, and their trial day is the same day that Arachne makes her first appearance (which is pretty rough smh, first day out of prison and you meet your evil aunt?? damn). this is all happening in Chapters 23-26.

from this point on, Maka's completely paralyzed for . . . an undisclosed amount of time. we've got Black☆Star's second run-in with Mifune maybe a day or two after Maka is set up in the infirmary at the DWMA. i used to think that the candy Black☆Star got from Mifune somehow cured her, but i have now realized that's not the case because,

May (1)

the party Kid hosts that is interrupted by the runaway train happens on the same day Maka comes back to class for the first time. Azusa says that the runaway train mission happened on May 21st (in Chapter 38), which ultimately means that, according to the timeline we've got going, Maka was in the infirmary for almost the entirety of May. this truly does make sense since, in that time, Medusa took over Rachel and Rachel's family had enough time to put up missing posters for her. May 21st is also when Medusa makes her appearance to Crona and everything starts going bad for them, which means Medusa had enough time to get in contact with Eruka again. Kid then seems to spend the rest of May after the runaway train looking for information about Eibon.

June (1)

this is the point of no return, this is the last specific date the wiki has. after June 1st, we are absolutely in the dark as to when tf anything happens (according to the wiki), so i'm probably going to get even more picky about the details. June 1st is when Kid is in the library and realizes that the Book of Eibon has been checked out. a day or two after that, Crona gets the snake and puts it in Marie's drink. all of that happens in Chapter 32, and in Chapter 33 we've got the group soul resonance lesson.

time exploitation time, Stein says "in the near future," so i will take that to mean "in a week" because that is the near future. a week after the group lesson, it's Lost Island Brew Tempest mission time. i'll say that the Brew mission happens on like in the middle of the second week of June (this also makes me realize that they don't have summer break! smh! i guess evil never rests, but whatever). this covers Chapters 34-37, Lord Death immediately calls for BJ after the Brew missions. i'll say that it takes BJ a few days to get to DWMA and his investigation takes place sometime in the third week of June. this happens on a day during the school week because Kid and Black☆Star have their fight where Kid absolutely demolishes Black☆Star, and Maka leaves her "Maka notes" at school and ends up overhearing a conversation between Crona and Eruka.

Maka Notes. anyways, Black☆Star gets suspended and goes to Japan with Tsubaki, BJ gets murdered, Stein is set up to be the murderer and he leaves with Marie to find the really culprit, and Crona leaves the DWMA all on the same day. a lot happens that day, RIP BJ, lived for two chapters. Crona was only at school for about two months, and one of those months was full of being worried about Medusa being alive!! makes me sad

July (1)

after that specific day, i feel like Chapters 41-43 have to take place in the tail end of June, if not the beginning of July. everyone has extracurricular lessons, Medusa surrenders herself, and Kim and Jackie run away from DWMA within a day or two after Chapter 43 now that everyone's extracurricular lessons are done. three days after Medusa surrenders herself, operation Capture Baba Yaga happens, which covers . . . Chapters 46-60. this is where things get even more uncertain for when things happen. there is an "unknown time skip" after Baba Yaga finishes up. i will be basing this time skip off of Black☆Star's insane amount of wounds that he has to recover from after killing Mifune (rip Mifune, wish he had lived tbh).

Black☆Star's fingers are MANGLED. he has other injuries from this fight, but i think it's those fingers that are gonna give us the best bet as to how long the time skip actually is. we see some stuff right after the battle with Justin and Giriko, then probably 2-3 days after that (putting us at the end of the first week of July), Kim and Angela are granted permission to stay with the DWMA, and Stein and Marie confront Justin, providing me with my absolute favorite panels of the manga.

anyways.

we see Black☆Star's fucked up in Chapter 61, he's got his finger cast on, again this is probably 2-3 days after Baba Yaga, still at the end of that first week of July. with Black☆Star's broken fingers, we continue on.

August & September (1)

my google search says that "fractured fingers typically take 6-8 weeks to heal, but can take up to 3-4 months to fully regain strength." i won't say that it takes 3-4 months for Black☆Star's hand to heal, mainly b/c he wouldn't be able to stay inactive for that long, but i think the 6-8 weeks is reasonable considering those fingers were obliterated. people in Soul Eater heal pretty fast and Black☆Star is super strong, so we can settle on a solid 8-10 weeks before Black☆Star is healed enough and had some physical therapy to be sort of back in action in Chapter 62. all of the other students seem to be full healed and adjusted to this schedule they've got (Ox has also grown out his bald ass head, so that's another time indication). enough time needs to have passed for Maka and Soul to have acquired 99 souls for Soul to become a death scythe. they probably had gotten some souls in the gaps between actual events and whatnot, so it's not like they're going 0-99 in a matter of 10 weeks. so, we come into Chapter 62 at around the end of the third week of September with Stein and Marie returning after beating tf outta Justin, Black☆Star is well and healed, Soul becomes a Death Scythe, and the Spartoi is officially formed.

from here, we get Maka and Soul practicing flying and abilities now that Soul is a Death Scythe and we have Gopher and Noah's forces showing up. this is definitely the next day, maybe two days, so i'm gonna say that this is that start of a new week. it seems that everyone is kind of just spending time to train and get stronger in preparations for whenever the next move from the opposing side happens.

this both emphasizes the fact that everyone is spending time getting stronger, and it also makes it clear that the other members of the Spartoi aren't on the Witch's Research mission while Maka is training and fighting in Chapters 63-65. Chapter 65 ends with a glimpse of Medusa telling Crona that they're going to start moving forward with her plan, and i will say that this ends September.

October (1)

full honesty, i can't tell how long it's been between Chapter 65 and Chapter 66. it obviously is after the run in with Gopher, but how long? i don't know!! for some reason, Maka was not assigned the Witch's Research mission even though they were looking for Medusa and her lab, which probably could be good for her high ability soul perception.

i get it, she wasn't assigned, but this whole mission consists of the rest of Maka's resonance team (minus Kid b/c he's stuck in the book) and team B, minus Ox and Harvard. maybe it was purely to play around with different team dynamics since Kilik wields Liz and Patty in Kid's absence (i'm also pretty sure they say that Kilik has the same type of ability as Stein when it comes to matching with weapons' wavelengths and whatnot). anyways, i think this whole mission probably happens over halfway into October for a few reasons.

firstly, Black☆Star being healed earlier doesn't mean he was Fully ready for missions yet. his appearance in Chapter 62 was probably his test to see if he was physically ready to take something on again. this seems to be his first mission after being recovered, so i'd say that the new Spartoi group had to do some adjusting now that everyone is ready to go by then. secondly, Gopher attempted to assassinate Maka, which probably put the DWMA more on alert since it's an enemy they haven't even seen before this point. this also might be why Maka isn't on this mission. they wanted to make sure that this mission went off without a hitch, they didn't want to rush into it so they super planned it, and it worked for the most part. lastly, Medusa said "It's time, Crona" at the end of Chapter 65. she probably already had preparations for all of this stuff, but i feel like since this is also her "reappearance" with Crona and her clown experiments, it works as a "time to get things moving" rather than "we're starting this right now." we also have no indication as to when tf she even says that, so it could be right after Maka's attempted assassination, or it could actually be right before the mission!!! with all of that, i am dubbing the Witch's Research (Chapters 66-68) mission to have happened at the end of the third week of October.

after all of this happens, Chapter 69 (nice) gives us some random school life where Soul is getting "Partner Requests" from other students, which also supports my idea that this happens late October rather than right after Maka's run-in with Gopher, because now Soul's been a Death Scythe long enough for the younger students to start trying to fuck around with Maka and Soul's partnership (unrelated but there's also some insane foreshadowing about Medusa's fuckin death in this chapter?? i might have to make my own short post about that b/c it's crazy to me). this picks up right after the Witch's Research mission (i think) because Black☆Star brings in Eruka in to Lord Death to help retrieve Kid from the Book of Eibon. there's a bunch of "one day earlier" and "the appointed day" when they're talking about performing the magic to send the Spartoi into the Book of Eibon, so for my mental health, i'm going to say that the Witch's Research team takes a day to get back, brings in Eruka the next day and Maka confesses to checking out the Book of Eibon, and then they perform the ritual to get the Spartoi in the book, which puts Chapters 69-72 in the third week of October (Kid's in the book for over two months!).

as for the entire Salvage arc, Chapters 72-81, once again there is little-to-no time indication as to how long it takes the Spartoi to get through the Book of Eibon. the DWMA teachers show up at Noah's hideout by the time the Spartoi are able to get Kid out, it's night time, but who knows!! i'm assuming that it's a mission that takes only one day based off of the fact that the witches and other Spartoi members that didn't go in the book are still hanging around the site of the ritual where the Spartoi entered even after the teachers have left to confront Justin and Noah.

good news tho, Maka was pretty injured, which means that i can use her wound healing as a basis for time passing!! we get a lot of exposition from Lord Death, Kid, and Stein in Chapter 82, then we find out Tezca didn't die, and then we see Crona in Moscow fighting the Death Scythe stationed there. and no time indication. i'm assuming that since Kid apologizes to Lord Death for being missing and he's still wearing his little white coat, that all of their conversation must be right after they get back from that mission, which i think is probably the morning after their fight with Noah since they fought at night. this keeps all of their convo in the third week of October. as for Moscow . . . we must now return to Maka's wounds from Chapter 76.

Maka gets kinda fucked up here by Giriko. even if it is a soul wavelength thing and meister's are super fit b/c of training and whatnot, Giriko is literally a chainsaw. she fights when they get out of the Book of Eibon, but i'm going to chalk that up the definite adrenaline she's feeling because she collapses as soon as that fight is over. google says that minor lacerations take less than 2 weeks to heal and major ones take 6-8 weeks to heal. i am realizing now as i type this that Kim's witch abilities could probably heal a lot of people faster (including Black☆Star earlier which i will choose to IGNORE b/c there still had to be enough time for Maka and Soul to get 99 souls) but i think i will choose to ignore that because i don't think the DWMA wants to use her like a school nurse.

November (2)

i want to say that it's been at least 3 weeks, if not a whole month. even if the timeline is fucked, if someone was really injured in the manga, there always seems to be enough time given to them to heal between big acts of the story. it's always kind of obvious when things happen back to back and Medusa probably makes adjustments to the black blood between missions, so i think that it's reasonable to give Maka the time to properly heal from those wounds. she and Soul look pretty casual in those panels, meaning they're able to have some down time.

also, that puts us at officially a whole year since the beginning; we're at the third week of November with Maka's healing time. we won't be over two years for the whole timeline since we're near the end, which kind of surprises me, but whatever. anyways, by the time Crona does their blood thing in Moscow, it seems that Maka has fully recovered from the Giriko fight. Maka, Soul, Kim, Jackie, and Stein go to Moscow after Crona does their blood orb thing, which is probably the day after it happens by the time they get there. it's also snowing in Moscow, and my google search says that it usually starts snowing in Russia around October-November, so that tracks. everyone finds out that the Ukraine blood orb happens while they're in Moscow. Justin shows up at the Ukraine blood orb during the day and Tezca gets decapitated, so some time has passed since the orb appeared b/c there is a significant lack of security and helicopters shown when it first appeared.

full disclaimer: things get very confusing after this point and i'm going to take some liberties to make things make sense. Kid confronts Lord Death about some raids that the DWMA have been doing in order to get people to find the Kishin, and then we see him go to the Lost Island to talk to Eibon, but then we also see Kid on the Lost Island while Crona kills Medusa, and then after Crona kills Medusa . . . Maka, Soul, Black☆Star, and Tsubaki are in some random village helping them hunt down a sky whale??? then, after they return and it's revealed that Crona has been added to Lord Death's list, Kid comes back from the Lost Island???? and then there is, presumably, some sort of a time skip because we see everyone preparing for the missions AND there has been enough time to build an entire air ship.

i'll tackle the air ship last. first, i'm going to put a definite order for the events i just listed b/c they don't make sense. Kid's trip to the Lost Island is shown across multiple chapters (Justin killing Tezca, Crona killing Medusa, and the sky whale mission, which is Chapter 86-88) that talk about things that do not seem to be happening at the same time, so i'm taking advantage of this. Kid's mission being interspersed means that Tezca's and Medusa's death happen before Kid is actually in the Lost Island. i think it all goes something like this: Justin goes to the Ukraine blood orb, kills Tezca, skip a day or so and Crona returns to Medusa and kills her, the raid Kid asks about happens and the news comes out (via newspaper Kid is holding in Chapter 86), then he says he's going to the Lost Island. that probably takes at least a single day to prep. going to say that by the time Kid is actually on his way to the Lost Island, it is the 1st of December.

December (2)

Kid can only be in the magnetic field for 20 minutes, so he is on the Lost Island the same day Maka and the gang deal with the sky whale, because that's the day they find out Crona's been added to Lord Death's list and Maka senses the Kishin on the moon, and then they have to plan how to get to the moon. from there, we have the preparation time skip and, according to my google search, it takes usually over a year to build an air ship/blimp.

there's no way it took the entire DWMA that long to build the air ship purely b/c 1) if it had taken a whole year, i'm pretty sure it would've been mentioned, 2) fantasy type world, DWMA has magic tools in the air ship, so there were probably some magic tools involved in the actual making of the ship, 3) the Spartoi search for Crona and train while the whole time the DWMA was preparing and planning, and i really doubt it took Maka a whole year to think about the church and, honestly, that Crona could survive on their own for a year without being noticed again (both because they're crazy and probably can't take care of themself very effectively, and that people were probably on the look out for another "black blood" event and nothing ever surfaced).

Crona hasn't been seen "since the incident in Russia," which means the DWMA has been looking, but they've gone radio silent in regards to causing any problems. Maka has been trying to see the whole world at once this entire time, so she's getting sensory soul overload, and probably can't do a search like that super often, maybe once every other day or so to try and actually get results that make any sense.

considering all of this, i turn back to the construction of the air ship. this is a mission that is extremely important, so the DWMA is putting a lot of power and planning into it. there is no previous mention (that i know of) of an airship owned by DWMA, so i'm assuming they're starting from the ground up with the help of any magic tools that speed up the process. with that, i and going to say that the air ship took AT LEAST a month to build, probably more than that.

January (2)

magic tools or not, you can't prevent all general workplace construction errors with better tools. maybe the DWMA did already have an air ship, maybe it didn't actually take that long, but it makes the most sense to me with the evidence given. there's the point to be made that "oh, why would the Kishin not come attack them if they're all just spending the time building a blimp?" Stein makes a point of saying that it would be "disadvantageous" for the Kishin to leave the moon because he still gets to spread madness from there whether they fight or not. i really doubt they'd be able to cut down an entire construction process that usually takes upwards of a year to anything less than a month. it can't be too quick because then the plans to go to the moon and find Crona would be too hasty and ill-prepared. the negotiations with the witches also began before the DWMA attacked the moon (Chapter 97). plus, i'm going to use this panel as a way to confirm to myself that things did take a bit of time to prepare.

"finally" meaning that those moon bitches had to wait a while before DWMA got to the moon. from here, we're basically at the end. even if the air ship took less or more than a month, the entire manga finishes up with the battle on the moon, which takes, at most, two days of straight fighting.

what i have decided on puts us at the very beginning of January, and that's where it ends!! Chapters 91-112 all happen within that two-ish day battle and that's where it ends. there is no 113th chapter of Soul Eater. hypothetically, if there was a 113th chapter where a funeral for Lord Death and a coronation ceremony for Kid took place, those events would probably take place within the second and third week of January.

here is the summary of the entire timeline:

November (1): very beginning of the manga, Crona and Medusa's introduction, Masamune is defeated

December (1): Medusa puts the snakes in Eruka, Free is released from witch prison and he fights Maka and gang on the bridge, winter break for the students?

January (1): essentially nothing, come back from an assumed winter break

February (1): super written exam

March (1): Nidhogg mission

April (1): Kishin revives on the eve of DWMA's anniversary, Maka befriends Crona, the Death Scythes (Maria, Azusa, and Justin) arrive, Crona trial day at school, Arachne wakes up and Maka is paralyzed, Black☆Star fights Mifune for the second time and gets the candy

May (1): Maka gets better from being paralyzed, Medusa possesses Rachel, runaway train, Medusa approaches Crona again

June (1): Kid realizes the copy of the Book of Eibon is missing, Crona puts the snake in Marie's drink, Lost Island Brew Tempest mission, BJ shows up and instantly is murdered, Crona runs away from DWMA

July (1): Maka meets the Clown in the factory, Medusa surrenders herself, Kim and Jackie run away and join Arachnophobia for a minute, Baba Yaga mission, Kid gets sucked into the Book of Eibon, Kim and Angela are allowed to stay at DWMA

August (1): everyone recovers and gets strong after Baba Yaga

September (1): Soul becomes a Death Scythe, Maka and Soul learn how to fly, Gopher tries to kill Maka

October (1): Witch's Research mission, Spartoi goes into the Book of Eibon to rescue Kid

November (2): Crona kills the Death Scythe in Moscow, Crona destroys a city in the Ukraine, Justin kills Tezca, Crona kills Medusa

December (2): Kid goes to the Lost Island to talk to Eibon, Crona is put on Lord Death's list, Maka senses the Kishin on the moon, construction of the air ship is started

January (2): Maka finds Crona in the church in Italy, the moon battle begins and ends, Lord Death dies and Kid is named the new Shinigami.

and that is the end!! if you've made it to the end of my madman rambling, please converse with me if you have any thoughts on this. DM, reblog, reply, whatever, let me know what you think. it took me multiple days to write all this up and actually look through the manga thoroughly enough to kinda figure out how and where everything happens. i did it out of pure frustration that it's hard to tell the order of things and i'm glad i found a way to make it make a bit more sense

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sixthwater · 1 year

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The Twelve Signs: Behind The Shadow

So many times people are warned about the negative qualities concerning certain signs, like how manipulative a cancer can be or how two-faced a libra is. Rarely do we dig underneath all of the ugliness and figure out where it's coming from. So if you'd like to dive into the darker side with me to figure out how the signs tick, buckle up.

**Feel free to use for Sun/Moon/Rising, everything was viewed from a general perspective

First Sector: These signs are getting used to the world around them. They are looking at the building blocks of their immediate environment to help figure out who they are. Focused on sorting out who they are — on a superficial level for right now, but it’ll give them a good base to always come back to later. They’re more worried about their ethics, family, neighborhood, communication — every small thing that builds up their identity. This is the personal, ego driven group.

Aries: Impulsive, Impatient, Selfish

Aries is known to be a lot. The first thing people usually feel when someone reveals that they’re an Aries is either exhaustion or a sense of dread, because they’re preparing themselves for the extreme qualities that an Aries can hold within them. We should, however, always remember that Aries starts off the zodiac. They have the title of ‘The Leader’ for a reason. Many exciting ideas run through their head, and they don’t want to miss them. They struggle to sit still because that rush of a new adventure is a great feeling. They are a very loving sign, they will take all of their friends with them to share the experience, but if you don’t want to go they’re not going to pass up on it because it doesn’t make sense to them. It’s very simple: you want to go sit down and they want to run into chaos, so that’s what’s going to happen. It doesn’t seem selfish to them. If you wanted something for yourself that they didn’t care for, they wouldn’t stop you and would usually push you to do it. It doesn’t always mean they’re going to bend over backwards and put their own feelings aside though, and they’ll usually express that. It’s basic math in their head. Just as short and straight-forward as this passage is, that's how most Aries are. If you ask them a question, 9/10 they will be able to give you their honest feelings on it without problem and there won't be a need to second guess or dig for hidden truths. They already told you everything.

Taurus: Materialistic, Stubborn, Jealous, Lazy

I think out of all the signs here, Taurus is the most fought for. Benefits of being a Venusian? Who knows. When it comes to Taurus, it’s simple: they know what they want. Some people will see that as being too much to deal with, but it’s very helpful for the native. It helps them to not lower their standards, which is exactly how they get all those labels up there. You will not see a Taurus chasing after something or someone that they do not care for. If they think something is worth their time or love, then they will go after it and cherish it with all of their heart (they are Scorpio’s sister sign, remember). Which I do touch on a bit here in this mega post. The thing with Taurus is that they’re either in or they’re out. So when they’re out, they aren’t lifting a finger let alone looking in that direction. There’s not much you can do to get them to care for it, unless you’re someone that they care about. Even then, there will be a bit of a struggle, but they’ll eventually cave with some bargaining and if they have a soft spot for you. Considering how much Taurus gives, they don’t want things that aren’t worth it to affect their internal balance.

Gemini: Superficial, Fickle, Inconsistent

Gemini! One of the good ol’ most hated signs. I spoke a little on them here, specifically the moon, but we’ll get a bit more general (albeit, repetitive). The usual concern with Gemini is that they either lack concentration, or they tell little white lies for fun. The mind of a Gemini moves quickly. It can annoy the natives sometimes, especially if they are trying to get projects done. It’s not that they can’t or choose to not focus on you or a topic, but if something pops up in their head and it’s interesting, then they want to talk about it. It circles back to Aries slightly; they want to discuss the topic while it’s fresh in their head and yes they promise they will get back to what you guys were talking about. They get interested in so many things, and they feel no need to restrict themselves to just one bubble – especially if they just want to figure out what’s going on with the subject and then go back to minding their business. Gemini’s are definitely aware of when they get themselves wrapped up in sticky situations for the most part, by the way. Once again, it’s not something that they enjoy. It’s part of the mind racing, something fun pops up, and they believe that this is something neat and fun and that they truly, honestly, want to do it. It will die out within a few hours to maybe some weeks, and then it sinks in. They’re a mutable air sign; they don’t like heavy drama. Little white lies that go nowhere? Yeah sure. Actual trouble? You are not finding them there that’s not their game, so if you do, trust them, they didn’t want to be there either.

Cancer: Insecure, Moody, Smothering

People will interestingly see Cancers as either: Innocent and harmless or Manipulative and cannot be trusted. Cancer is a water sign that's ruled by the moon, which controls the tides of our ever changing and extremely powerful ocean. One last thing, it’s also associated with the fourth house, which ties back into early upbringing and what brings us comfort. All of this to say: yeah, Cancers can be sensitive. They will pick up on the mood of others, even if they’re trying to hide it. If the overall energy in the room is not good, it will get to them as well. They want to make sure the person who is upset can be soothed because once they feel better, it dispels the uncomfortable feeling that they’re picking up on. A Cancer can try to ignore it but they will either exhaust themselves in doing so, or flip back and forth between how they’re genuinely feeling and absorbing what the room is going through. They do genuinely want to help those around them, but it’s another way to get rid of them feeling bad — two birds one stone. They’re also not as insecure as they present themselves. It’s usually their ego that gets broken down over the years that makes them need reassurance from their loved ones, or makes them act out in overconfidence, because they’ve been told that they’re too sensitive or needy from a young age too many times. Cancers are still a cardinal sign, but they worry about the emotional and inner world.

Second Sector: Now that the ego has been formed somewhat, it has to make sure it can go out into the world and mingle with others right? The signs here are the middle-men between what’s mine and what belongs to others. Through others we can help cut away pieces of ourselves that we don’t need anymore, or find pieces of us that we didn't even know existed. It can also help polish elements of our personality that might be too explosive. These signs deal all with balancing our ego and relations with others, and sometimes learning how to share with others.

Leo: Conceited, Dramatic, Needs Attention

Our Bright Sun! Yet another sign that I don’t believe gets much hate in comparison. Leos tend to be very charming, lovely, and friendly. They are also a lot more calm than people realize, or they’re not always at level 100, I should say. If a Leo is being dramatic, it’s just for expressive purposes and to get a few laughs out of people. It brings them a bit of joy to see that people are laughing due to something that they did or said. It’s also like a stress reliever in a way, they don’t want to hold their emotions in and they don’t necessarily want to rant or bring the energy down…so let’s make it a little funny while expressing ourselves. They also aren’t usually needy for attention unless they’re proud of what they’ve done or created. I’ve noticed a pattern with a lot of Leo influenced natives and it’s that they’ll quietly work or mind their business, and once they’re done they’ll beam as they show off the finished project. If there’s a piece of their work that they’re excited about: they’ll show it off. If they really like their nails or new piece of clothing, they’ll ask for your opinion as they gush about it. Personality wise, a lot of other things can get them down but not many things can make them doubt that one quality. Even when someone is able to, they’ll seek out someone they trust to help them get back on their feet. It’s not that Leo’s are begging for attention or can’t live without it, but they’re proud of their stuff and themselves, as they should be.

Virgo: Critical, Perfectionist, Petty

We’re already familiar with Virgo’s infamous negative traits. They can be very particular about…well nearly everything. They can be petty, high-strung, and seem like they know what’s best for everyone. With Virgo, everything sources back to them having a bit of control or preparation for what’s around them. They can feel uncomfortable or seriously anxious when thrown into situations without any prior knowledge on how to navigate it. They don’t need a complete manual or guide, but being given some kind of bone would be nice. This leads them to seem very anal about a lot of things in their life because they’re clutching onto that small guide as if it’s a lifeline. If it gets them through a tough time, they’ll most likely continue to follow that advice as if it’s the gospel. Over time they will become more comfortable with tweaking things so it’s more personable — they are a mutable sign after all. It’s not that they’re incapable of change, but there’s a worry that they’ll fail and let someone down or they won’t live up the expectations they set up in their head (which is to be perfect; they saw someone who is already great at it do it so they should immediately be at that level). Most things with Virgo circle back to how their actions will impact those around them and how they can help make things easier or more efficient. They don’t want to risk making a mess because if they do, someone else’s day will be affected by it. If they know a quicker and easier way to do something, they will share that knowledge because they want to help those around them. They get sensitive about being rejected in those fields because it’s a slight attack on their capability and as if the ones they love don’t need them. Virgo’s end up attacking themselves before anyone else does. It’s usually not a case of believing people are incompetent, but they want to help things flow more easily and it’s foolish to not speak up or help if they know how to do it.

Libra: Indecisive, Vain, Flirtatious

This sign is actually very easy to decipher. Once again, they are a cardinal sign, but they’re also an air sign, so this energy is put towards socializing with other people and initiating conversations. This is a great quality for Libra to utilize, and they do so on a daily basis. In my eyes, Libra can masquerade as a Mutable sign…by simply not speaking, honestly. They are a bit like Cancer, in the sense that they can be more docile and they navigate situations by how others are feeling. Or they just avoid them depending on if they have the energy to deal with it. If there’s an argument or conflict going on, and they happen to be stuck in the middle, they’ll use their knowledge of how each person feels regarding certain issues (or even the exact problem) to help mitigate the situation. You won’t hear their own personal opinion, because their focus is to just put the fire out. Unless it’s a casual conversation and everyone is goofing around, you really won’t get insight into their own personal landscape (and the rest of their placements will absolutely influence how quickly this happens, and how loud they will be). All you have to do is either give them space or time and it’ll come pouring out if they feel comfortable around you (ie; you won’t put words in their mouth). Libras are not indecisive, they very much have a strong mind of their own, but they understand that will not help put out a situation that’s already on fire. As for the flirtation, they just like talking to people. It’s their way of making people feel good, and if you throw them a compliment back it’ll probably make them feel good too. They’ll put a little notch next to your name to remember that you don’t take every single little thing they say to heart. They like to socialize, so if that becomes a chore they probably will avoid doing so if they associate it with you.

Scorpio: Vengeful, Paranoid, Possessive

If you’re a local, you know I love to laugh at you guys, it’s out of love. Welcome to the second rare serious post for you! All of these qualities rise from self-defense and regret (with a few other fun emotions mixed in). I wrote in an observation post a bit back that Scorpio placements go through many transformations and ‘ego’ deaths depending on what planet it’s in. Before this starts, the native is very raw and willing to give their all for whatever they cherish. Once they get burnt a few times and they’re in the middle of these lessons, this is when they become a bit closed off and struggle to balance themselves. They get stuck in their head and worry if the people around them will treat them like the last (ex; will this person cheat on me, will they truly understand me, do they like me for me or my image, etc). The infamous ignoring or mean attitude brought out at this stage is a mix of a native who is hiding themselves from getting hurt and a native who is hurt. Once they have worked through their inner struggles and the right people come into their lives, they get a bit defensive and possessive like just a bit. It’s something that must be worked through, but it’s not about control, it’s more about the fear of losing someone and the idea that those people didn’t ever care. Toss in some ‘I know what’s best for you because I’ve been scarred before’ as well. It’s only when a loved one or they have been hurt that they become ‘vengeful’. All these emotions are sourced from their pain and it’s usually a bit of them upset that they became vulnerable in the first place or that they couldn’t protect the ones they love, at least at this stage. As they grow into themselves, these tendencies become less noticeable and they’re more okay with letting people go and more of the stereotypical ‘mysterious’ Scorpio that, contrary to popular belief, doesn’t like to settle down so easily because they’ve become more comfortable with themselves over time.

Third Sector: These signs also focus on relations and closeness, but it’s on a wide scale. They want to connect with as many people as possible and understand the world in a general sense. It brings them a sense of comfort, like a security blanket. They want to see how others are viewing the world and to understand them. What they are doing to impact the world and how they can help their community. These signs, whether they fully realize it or not, are always sensitive to how the world is operating and how those within it are doing. They end up being somewhat spiritual and it can display itself in different ways.

Sagittarius: Tactless, Irresponsible, Opinionated

Hot, Annoying, Wanderlusting Saggitarius! Many people usually don’t have an issue with them because they’re the wattpad love interest from our teen years. Charming and fun from a distance, probably not all that perfect in execution. The thing with Sagittarius is that they don’t hide their faults. At all, though some will think that it’s still charming. That initial friendly impression people get from them comes from their ability to communicate with nearly anyone and keeping the energy up, but they don’t shy away from conflict or deeper debates — even with strangers. You’re probably very familiar with the side of them that actively challenges people or picks at people’s brains, coming off as somewhat combative even though they genuinely just want to understand how this person is thinking. The interesting thing with them is that they nearly always try to balance the fun with the deep, which is how they come off as tactless. They will instantly challenge someone’s view on something, or just want to investigate for themselves how this person thinks, but they’ll still try to keep the easygoing vibe of it all to make sure everyone else feels comfortable. It’s not for the same reason the water signs do it, but they are not looking to create immediate lifelong bonds with people. They don’t see these conversations as intense as others would. They take all these exchanges as eye-opening interactions and they appreciate them, but that’s it. If they make a friend, cool. If they don’t, that’s fine. Nothing is going to inherently ruin their mood just because someone got offended by how they feel, because they don’t want someone else to be tied down in the same way. That’s not the way to live. They can come off as people who never take anything seriously but aren’t they associated with things such as higher learning, philosophy, traveling, and other things that usually take decent planning and dedication? It’s not that Sagittarius isn’t capable of being serious, but if they’re going to be serious, it’s going to be for a good reason. Besides that, let’s have fun.

Capricorn: Pessimistic, Cold, Status Oriented

The CEO of the zodiac. Since this is my sister sign, I need to defend them a little here. When you think of Cancer, your brain immediately goes to emotions, the mother, home, water, etc. Thinking of Capricorn brings you to stoic, the father, work, saturn, etc. One is closed off while the other is open. The issue here is that Capricorn often gets stuck in these boxes of not being able to express emotion, and then it feels like it can never do it — that’s why Cancer is there. Capricorns are capable of being pretty emotive, and they will show their care and love for you in acts of service, physical touch — something to show you that they’re present and they got you. This quality can get into natives with these placements and it can cause inner conflict because it might conflict with the natural need to express their emotion, but Capricorn doesn’t do that so effortlessly. So if the native does that, they’ll dogpile on themselves or feel embarrassed for it later. Everything about Capricorn is about investments and if it’s realistic or practical. Not in a money sense, but if they’re going to get a new computer within a week they’d just put up with whatever annoyances their computer gives them because it wouldn’t make sense to spend money on a computer that’s on the way out anyway. A lot of people treat their view of the world as pessimistic, and sometimes it can be, but most times it’s how they prepare and get their ducks in a row to keep their engine working properly. They’re also not as cold as described by others. If they care about you, they’re going to make sure you’re taken care of. They may not be soft and mushy, or constantly express it in the most romantic way like in the movies, but you most likely won’t doubt a Capricorn cares for you. There might be contention in the beginning if your love languages differ, but the easiest way to solve that with them is to just be open and honest, and they’ll do their best to modify what they can to make sure you know they care for you.

Aquarius: Impersonal, Deviant, Inconsistent

Despite this being my rising sign, I don’t really talk about them a lot. I touched on them slightly here, but not really in depth honestly. People usually take issue with the fact that Aquarius will seem more invested with those that they aren’t close to as opposed to their actual friends or family. Their focus is usually on trying to make sure everyone is equal and that justice is always being served faithfully, in a way. Aquarians will always worry for those that might not have anyone to protect them, so they want to be there just in case. Their loved ones tend to fall to the wayside because the native is unchanging — they know they’ll always come back to them once everything is said and done, so it’s not something that they necessarily worry about. Their air qualities aren’t pushed towards their inner circles as much as it is the outer world, because they are within the group that focuses on the world at large the most. They could do a bit better with expressing themselves more clearly, but they tend to get wrapped up in movements and public concerns a lot. When pushed by others or provoked over ‘not caring for someone’ as much as they claim, they might act up and be a bit petty about it out of hurt. Their rebellious quality is not only saved for corporations or the status quo; if they are pushed consistently by close ones or nagged enough to do something, they will have a small streak of doing the exact opposite out of spite just to get the annoyance out of their system (because they don’t actually feel the same amount of anger for their loved ones that they do ~big pharma~).

Pisces: Hypersensitive, Escapist, Gullible

Last but not least, a phrase you’re sick of hearing, Pisces! Now, they are a sensitive sign, but they are not fragile by any means. Out of the last four, this is the sign that will most likely believe in the best out of the world. However, because of this quality, I’ve noticed that a lot of them are quite cynical and jaded — but they definitely carry an aura that makes them seem wise beyond their years. Not all of them have to be spiritual, but even more than the other water signs, they can get easily upset by the energy around them. They don’t like being in places that make them feel bad for long periods of time because it can legitimately exhaust them. This leads to that quality of them seeming like they avoid others, because you’ll most likely find them holed up in their room: because it’s familiar and comfortable. Growing up, the Piscean native might’ve been fooled a great number of times, causing them to become quite defensive of who they reveal their true selves to (who is someone quite sweet). Once you crack that shell, you will befriend the stereotypical Pisces who will let you in on all of their drifting thoughts and will always try to get you whatever you need out of love. However they do their best to balance themselves out as they’ve learned that the world is not as pristine and pretty as they came in thinking it was.

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