#this is me trying to revive this blog once again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cryoculus · 1 year

Text

— imagine being loved by me! ⟢

pairing: xiao | alatus x reader

summary: the one where your best friend gives you ten tattoos over the next ten years. the problem? you fall deeper in love each time the ink stains your skin.

word count: 7.1k words

tags: modern au, tattoo artist!xiao, childhood friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, relationship study, non-explicit smut

warnings: emotionally stunted xiao but i fink everyone knows that already, mentions of needles, there's smut but it isn't detailed

notes: this blog's been dead for Months but i thought i'd revive it with this fic that my beloved @delvalentine commissioned me to make! i love u to DEATH, v, i hope i did your requests justice :')

header art cr: yuca7302 on twt

01.

“Ow, fuck! Can you be more careful?!”

“I am careful. You just have a shitty pain tolerance.”

“Wow, that’s not something you should say to your first willing client,” you huff, trying not to pull away as Xiao repeatedly punctures the skin of your forearm with pen ink and a not-so-sterile sewing needle. “My family could sue you if I die from a blood infection, you know.”

Xiao rolls his eyes. “Something this small won’t kill anyone. Plus, you came here on your own volition, so stop complaining.”

“Are you saying you’re just going to let me die of sepsis if everything goes to shit?”

“Pretty much.”

You didn’t know what to expect when your best friend of several years asked if you wanted a tattoo of your favorite constellation. It’s been a running joke between the both of you that the two moles on your forearm looked a lot like two-thirds of Orion’s belt, and that maybe, in another life, you would’ve been born with all three of its stars on your skin.

You should’ve known that Xiao likes to blow your expectations out of the water—whether he intends to do so or not.

It’s sundown when he finishes embedding black pen ink beneath your slightly inflamed skin. Xiao doesn’t comment when you repeatedly complain about how much that fucking hurt, and that you’re never agreeing to do it again, but you don’t miss the way his eyes occasionally flit up to the starry sky before shifting to your new ‘tattoo’ as he walks you home.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget that night. How you admired the amateur handiwork in the soft glow of your nightlight while thinking about the boy who gave you a star fashioned with his own fingers where others would’ve given flowers instead.

But then you remember Xiao is nothing but your best friend, and it’s a little…weird to be thinking about him like that.

Must be the sepsis fucking with my head, you muse before flicking off your nightlight, and the room is plunged into pitch black darkness.

02.

You’re eighteen when you realize Xiao is completely serious about this tattooing business.

It comes as a not-so-pleasant surprise to you one day when your high school’s guidance counselor approaches you while you’re hurrying over to your next class—asking if you’ve seen Xiao around these days because apparently, your best friend hasn’t been attending his classes for a better part of the semester.

Of course, you receive the news with a scowl. While you don’t exactly see him all that much at school because of how different your schedules are, you never expected to find out he’s been playing hooky all this time.

You don’t particularly like sticking your nose into other people’s business—especially not Xiao’s, since you know how he likes to keep to himself better than most. But for some reason, you aren’t able to resist, and end up calling him after excusing yourself from your two-hour Biology lecture.

Once your classes are done, you head over to a nearby tattoo parlor whose address Xiao texted to you right after you squeezed his whereabouts out of him during that phone call. It’s located in one of the more run-down parts of town that your parents would’ve detested Xiao for inviting you to. But whatever prejudice you might’ve had about the denizens of this district all go up in smoke once you meet the owner herself.

“You should’a seen Xiao practicing with our machines a few months ago!” Beidou, as Xiao had sheepishly introduced earlier, barks out a laugh before slinging an arm around your best friend’s shoulders. “Said there’s someone he wanted to give permanent tatts to. I’m guessing you’re the guest of honor?”

“Beidou,” Xiao groans. “It’s not a big deal. I already practiced on her before.”

You don’t completely catch it when Beidou makes an inappropriate joke as a response to what Xiao just said—eyes trained on the fading dot on your forearm. It’s been two years since Xiao gave you your first ‘tattoo’, and even if the receding ink makes it look like one of Orion’s stars are starting to die out, it’s still there.

“Okay,” you say in the middle of their bickering, startling both Xiao and Beidou in the process. “I’ll let him ink me if he wants to.”

Xiao stares at you with brows furrowed. “You sure?”

No, you’re not sure because as much as you want to support Xiao in what seems to be a budding passion of his, you’re certain that your father is going to kill you when he sees a full-blown tattoo on any part of your body. You barely got away with the artificial mole that Xiao did for you a few years back.

“Positive.” You back your words up with an indignant huff before sifting through the pre-made designs on Beidou’s catalog. “You just have to put it somewhere not everyone can see, I guess.”

Beidou snorts out another jarring laugh when Xiao clicks his tongue to alleviate the embarrassment that’s painting his face just a touch of red.

Earlier in the day, you intended to scold your best friend for not taking his studies seriously, but ended up going home that day with a new piece inked onto the skin of your left hip: a little spruce twig that you last remember seeing in your old hometown—years before you even met Xiao.

There’s no particular meaning behind it, apart from a hint of sentimentality and rebelliousness. It’s your first actual tattoo, and one of your best friends gave it to you, free of charge. Even if it hurts ten times more than Xiao’s novice needle method from two years ago, you end up loving it more than you thought. One time, you stare at Xiao’s intricate handiwork in the mirror for so long that you nearly run late for your first class of the day.

(Another thing that makes this particular piece memorable is the process itself.

Xiao is a person who’s always been startlingly precise in everything he decides to put his head into. When you learned that he wanted to become a tattoo artist, you instantly felt like there’s no other path more perfect for him than this.

Yet you couldn’t help but notice how his fingers sometimes trembled as he gave you your first piece—with you lying chest-down on Beidou’s tattoo chair in nothing but your shirt and underwear. It shouldn’t have been strange. Xiao has seen you dressed down like this dozens of times before.

But when all’s said and done, he refused to meet your eyes, and you don’t have the slightest clue why.)

03.

You just can’t stop staring when you see Xiao’s half-sleeve for the first time.

It’s meant to be a phoenix, he said, but you can’t really see it because the patterns are too abstract to make sense of. Still, the azure ink sits nicely on top of his built bicep, and you have to tell yourself that you’re just trying to find the stupid phoenix as an excuse to keep ogling him.

Thankfully, your weird fascination lasts for only about a week until you’re back to shitting on him like you always do.

By some miracle, Xiao manages to graduate high school despite being on probation from his excessive absences. He’s actually smart if he makes the effort to hit the books, but you’re not sure if he’s planning on going to college with how comfortable he is with being one of Beidou’s most in-demand tattoo artists.

You ask him about his future plans at a party being thrown by the previous captain of the football team in his parents’ lavish penthouse somewhere uptown. It took a great deal to force Xiao into tagging along with you as your plus one, and you’re going to make good on his acquiescence by interrogating him about things he normally skirts around.

“I told you, I didn’t take any entrance exams,” he grumbles against the rim of his red cup. “I’m managing just fine working for Beidou, so I don’t see any reason to go to college.”

You’re about to argue that Beidou’s tattoo parlor won’t be open forever, and that he needs to think about broadening his career options until a bunch of girls with linked arms shuffle closer to where you and Xiao were lounging on the couch. You don’t talk to them a lot, but everyone in your grade knows the infamous Pyro Trio.

“Hey, Xiaooo,” Hu Tao drawls with a smirk, pushing up her sleeve to reveal the branches of a cherry blossom tattooed on the delicate skin of her arm. Behind her, Xiangling and Xinyan snicker like it’s some sort of inside joke.

You intend to shift your gaze elsewhere. Clearly, you’re not the person these girls want to speak with. But the sight of the ink on Hu Tao’s skin makes the back of your neck prickle with misplaced irritation. Xiao must’ve been the one who did her piece, which shouldn’t be a surprise. Though he’s this year’s most notable absentee, rumors about Xiao’s handiwork haven’t gone unnoticed among the students in your (now) alma mater.

That doesn’t mean you have to like the idea of your best friend inking other people that aren't you, though.

You decide to excuse yourself from Xiao’s company—given that Hu Tao is giving him plenty of attention already as is. Your best friend utters something you don’t quite catch as you walk away, and you don’t bother turning around to ask him to repeat himself.

(As you stuff your face with shot after shot, you force yourself to just keep dancing to the rhythm of whatever song is blaring to the speakers. You didn’t give two shits about the fact that Hu Tao keeps feeling up the stupid phoenix tattoo on Xiao’s arm. Nor did you care about the fact that your best friend—who’s normally evasive when it comes to casual contact—seems like he doesn’t mind at all.)

The night ends with Xiao begrudgingly getting behind the wheel of your car, since you’re obviously in no state to be driving anyone home. When he announces that he’ll bring you back to your apartment, you slur out a drunken protest—asking if he can take you to the tattoo parlor instead.

“What?” he asks incredulously. “Why?”

You huff, curling in on yourself on the passenger seat. “The cherry blossoms you gave Hu Tao were ugly as shit. You can do a better piece on me. Y’know, as practice.”

Both of you know that you’re bluffing. Xiao’s pieces are one of the most intricate you’ve ever seen, even if he is a rookie tattoo artist, and that you don’t have a lot of points of reference to compare to. But instead of taking offense at your mindless jab at his work, Xiao slots the keys into the ignition with a defeated sigh.

“Fine. You mentioned wanting spider lilies a while back,” he says before propping his arm against the car seat as he backed up on the street. It’s the perfect angle to moon over his not-so-phoenix tattoo, and if you were any more intoxicated, you would’ve reached out and squeezed his arm.

“Where do you want it?”

You know he meant to ask where you wanted him to put your prospective tattoo, but the question sends your mind straight into the gutter. Thankfully, you still have some semblance of coherence lingering in your drunk thoughts, and you answer with:

“Right hip. Opposite end of the spruce twig.”

When Xiao heaves another sigh and steps on the gas pedal, you don’t think much of it—still convinced it’s completely normal to expose such intimate parts of yourself to your best friend so he can tattoo a fucking flower just above the swell of your thigh.

04.

“You have been watching way too much anime.”

“Come on! At least I’m not having you tattoo the names of my shitty ex-boyfriends on my ass, right? Just give me my modified Tanjiro hanafuda and Fullmetal Alchemist flamel!”

“...Is this your way of coping with taking up a nursing course? Is it that stressful?”

You whine as you hold your phone closer to your ear, already picturing the look of disbelief in Xiao’s face when you asked when he’s free to give you your next tattoos. You still go to college in the same city, but it’s been weeks since you last saw him.

“You have no idea,” you groan. “It’s like my first year, and I’m already burned out! How is that even possible?”

Your best friend grunts on the other line. “Maybe if you stopped being such a perfectionist, then maybe you’ll learn to be more content. Less stress on your part, too.”

“Ah, no can do. I never do anything that isn’t perfect,” you chuckle. “

“Yeah, I saw you score at the top of your class during your, uh… what was it again? Biochem exam?”

For someone who doesn’t exactly give a damn about anything outside tattooing and other similar forms of artistry, you find it endearing to know Xiao actually remembers all the things you rant about in the wee hours of the morning. You don’t hate biochem, but if you have to draw another chemical configuration, you might just pop a vein.

“Okay, let’s say I agree to tattoo those weird doodles you sent,” Xiao propositions, “do you even have any free days? You usually study on weekends, right? I don’t think you’re free to drop by the shop even if you wanted to.”

Fuck. He’s right. You still have a few major exams coming up in the next two weeks. If you wait that long until you get your silly weeaboo tattoos from Xiao, you would’ve already gotten over your momentary hyperfixation on the TV shows that were salvaging your sanity in the middle of the semester. It wouldn’t feel as thrilling to get them anymore.

“I’m free…” You trail off, eyes darting to the digital clock by your desk then to the course notes you have opened on your laptop. You haven’t studied as much as you wanted to for your upcoming anatomy test, but…

“Right now, actually. Can you pick me up?”

You can hear him frowning. “Don’t you have a car?”

“I do, but I don’t wanna drive when I have plastic wrap all over my body.”

“You’re exaggerating. It’s not all over your—”

“Jesus, get the hint, Xiao. I miss my best friend, and I want to have a quiet evening cruise on his motorcycle before he gets me inked again!”

Xiao falls silent, and this time, you’re having some difficulty picturing what expression he’s wearing on his face. You like to think you’ve startled your un-startle-able best friend, but that’s pushing your influence too much.

“Okay,” he says, more agreeable than you thought he’d be. “I’ll be there in thirty. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.”

05.

When you introduce your first serious boyfriend in a while to Xiao, you’re a bit annoyed with how prickly he’s being.

Sure, it’s wired into his system to be the snarky asshole everyone knows and loves, but if there’s anyone else who knows about the tragedy that is your love life better than yourself, it’s Xiao. When you finally land a decent guy to settle down with, you at least expect him to be a bit more supportive.

“Actually, we came here ‘cause we planned on getting matching tattoos,” your boyfriend, Yin, explains with a dimpled smile. “Isn’t that right?”

You stifle a soft laugh, a bit embarrassed to agree, but too in love with your boyfriend to protest.

A few years ago, you distinctly remember drunkenly rambling to Xiao about how stupid it is to get couple tattoos especially when relationships these days are built on flimsy foundations.

If you break up, what then? You have a physical reminder of that person on your body for eternity? No fucking thanks!

“Sorry, we’re closed right now, as you can see,” Xiao grunts before jabbing his thumb at the sign he just turned at the door. “You can try some other time, though.”

At the time, you were pissed at Xiao for denying your little request. He always agreed to ink you during ungodly hours of the day, but now he’s playing the ‘shop’s closed’ card just because he doesn’t like your boyfriend?

But then, you end up grateful for his attitude exactly a month later.

“Fucking cheated on me with some bitch from his Physics lecture,” you sniffle on Xiao’s ratty sofa as he makes you some tea in his kitchen. “I can’t believe I nearly tattooed our anniversary on my wrist! I would’ve had to fucking amputate it in the end.”

Xiao sighs before placing a piping hot cup of honey lemon in front of you on his coffee table—crossing his legs together. He doesn’t tell you I told you so, like others probably would if they were in his shoes. Your best friend just stares at you with withering understanding, no matter how stupid the choice that got you here in the first place turned out to be.

That’s one of the many things you loved about him.

“You were supposed to have ‘XV’ inked together, right?” he asks.

You huff before tossing some of the soiled tissues you used into the bin. “Yeah. We made it official on September 15th.”

“Well, if you still want the tattoo, you could just give it a different meaning.”

Scowling, you stare at Xiao as if he just grew a second head. “What the hell are you talking about?” Is he really suggesting for you to get the same tattoo that he denied you and your ex a month ago?

Xiao shrugs noncommittally before taking a sip from the tea he prepared for you. “It’s been fifteen years since we became best friends. That’s worth commemorating, at least. Unless you suddenly don’t give a shit about that, too?”

Your jaw hangs agape at the sudden reminder. October 15th. When you were four, you accidentally spilled orange juice all over Xiao’s teletubbies backpack, and when he forgave you on the spot, you crowned him as your first bestie.

That was fifteen years ago. Holy shit.

He startles when you abruptly shoot back to your feet, earning yourself a perplexed stare from Xiao who just wants you to sit down and drink your damn tea—

“Is Beidou’s shop open?” you ask. “I want her to do our matching tatts.”

Xiao grimaces. “Our?”

You nod brusquely, tugging at his arm. “Yeah, I’m allowed to have matching tattoos with you, ‘cause you’ll never walk out of my life, right, Xiao?”

He’s always been a stubborn little shit, so you don’t really expect Xiao to relent as quickly as he does. You nearly stumble to the carpeted floor when he lets you pull him up—faces hovering so close to each other, you nearly choke on your own breath.

It doesn’t help that Xiao has definitely…put in a few inches of height. Back then, you used to tease him a lot for being taller than him, but now?

“Never,” he whispers so softly, you wouldn’t have heard it if you weren't as close to him as you are. “Now drink your stupid honey lemon tea so we can head to the shop.”

About two and a half hours later, you’re sitting on the vacant seats in the shop’s waiting lounge—a familiar sting still sizzling beneath your ribcage from where you had your first matching piece with Xiao permanently inked. You made him swear to have his own ‘XV’ tattoo made on the same place, and he makes good on his promise when he emerges from the workroom, wearing nothing but his dark-washed jeans.

Unlike yourself, you rarely see Xiao in various states of undress. The most skin you could get out of him on most days is the lean muscle of his tattooed biceps, and sometimes those are enough to have you staring dumbly at him for several minutes.

Now, though?

You learn that he has several tattoos on his torso—spread across his skin like patchwork. It makes you wonder if he did some of them himself, or if he had Beidou work on them for him. Still, despite the plethora of new ink stains to gawk at, his weird phoenix tattoo remains as your personal favorite.

Along with the newest piece he got not five minutes earlier—the tattoo he shares with you.

“Are you happy now?” he grumbles, letting you marvel at the perfect roman numerals just below the jut of his ribs. “It’s a good thing Beidou gave it to us free of charge, you know.”

You giggle. “All of my tatts so far have been free of charge.”

“That’s only because you’re special to me,” Xiao sighs before freezing up in the next moment—like he didn’t mean to let that slip aloud.

You smirk. “Mm? What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Fuck off.”

06.

Much to Xiao’s disappointment, your shitty taste in men doesn’t exactly end with Yin.

About three months after getting the tattoo to commemorate your fifteen years of best friendship, you meet Kaeya. He’s an exchange student, and you know better than to form any sort of attachment to someone who isn’t going to be in the same continent as you by next year.

But you let him in anyway.

You allow Kaeya to get to know you in ways that not even Xiao is familiar with. The smooth-talking foreigner likes to kiss every single one of your tattoos—lamenting the fact that they’re all inked in spots hidden from view. You laugh every time he brings it up, saying your parents are going to kill you and Xiao if they saw any of the pieces your best friend did for you over the last six years.

“That best friend of yours…” Kaeya muses once he’s done bringing you to paradise and back, smoking a cigarette that makes you wrinkle your nose with distaste. He would’ve been perfect, if only he wasn’t such a chronic chainsmoker. “He’s in love with you, isn’t he?”

You nearly fall off the bed at his bold declaration.

“W-What the fuck are you talking about?” you stammer. Xiao? In love? With you?

Kaeya shrugs. “I dunno, sweetheart. If I was a tattoo artist, I wouldn’t let anyone freeload my craft as many times as you did—even if you are my best friend. Unless I was down fucking bad for you, of course.”

Xiao doesn’t like Kaeya, but the reasoning behind it is a bit different from why he doesn’t like your ex. He knew Yin wasn’t a good match for you. Kaeya, though? The two of you had inarguable chemistry. The only problem was he was a free spirit that didn’t like to be tied down by commitments—something you clearly struggle with.

When you reassured Xiao that Kaeya is nothing but a way to scratch a passing itch, he merely scoffed and told you to do whatever you wanted.

Could his dismissiveness be because…he’s in love with you?

That can’t be right. You’re the one who knows Xiao best. If he hypothetically does catch feelings for someone—much less, you—you’ll surely be the first to notice, right?

Right?

Kaeya chuckles before tracing the XV tattoo along your ribcage with a cold finger—almost like he’s teasing. You roll your eyes before crawling back on top of your midnight lover, kissing him just to shut him up.

When you drop by Beidou's the next day, Xiao is nowhere to be found.

“Didn’t he tell you?” She gapes. “Our boy’s starting his own shop downtown! He had the soft launch and everything a week ago. I was wondering where you were.”

“Uh…”

You’re not sure how to break the news that Xiao has been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you got together with Kaeya. But finding out that he put up his own tattoo parlor without even telling you?

If Kaeya turns out to be right, and your best friend really was in love with you, he sure as hell wasn’t acting like it.

Deciding to play along with whatever game he’s playing, you make an appointment to get a new piece inked under a fake name. Xiao accepts it right away and schedules you for an early evening slot. You make it a point to arrive twenty minutes late just to get a rise out of him.

When he sees you at the entrance to his shop, you almost let yourself feel smug about the unadulterated surprise on his face. Almost. You’re still pissed off that he didn’t invite you to one of the most important milestones of his life.

He fulfills your request in silence—the French word for green inked unassumingly on the underside of your shoulder blades. Xiao doesn’t say a word about his evasiveness, nor does he address the fact that you, his literal best friend, are standing in the shop he’s kept a secret for god knows how long.

When he still refuses to talk, you slam your payment on top of a nearby table—intent on storming out of the building even if he hasn’t wrapped your newest piece in a protective layer of plastic yet. Xiao barks that he doesn’t want your fucking money, and you end up throwing your hands in the air, asking:

“Then what the hell do you want?”

You expected him to blow up in a fitful of rage. He’s never been good at anger management, you knew this well. But instead, he crosses the distance separating the two of you and crushes your mouths together.

“You,” he whispers hoarsely, desperately against your lips. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

Kaeya calls you multiple times that night—even leaves a text message asking where you are and if you’re free. You aren’t able to answer any of them though. Not when you’re busy being railed into the next life by your best friend of fifteen—going sixteen—years in the same bed that Kaeya just had his way with you a week ago.

When Xiao’s lips graze each and every tattoo he personally inked onto your pliant body, it’s leagues different from when Kaeya does it. It’s like your best friend is leaving a trail of fire sizzling beneath your skin everywhere his mouth trails along your hypersensitive flesh.

Even the way he makes you fall apart from a blistering orgasm is ten times more intense than every session you had with Kaeya and Yin combined.

There’s no affection nor is there adoration in Xiao’s gaze as he fucks into you—golden eyes fueled by something carnal and zealous, but you knew better than to call that love.

When morning comes, Xiao isn’t here with you, and you don’t know which emotion to feel.

Kaeya, at least, has the decency to leave a note whenever he has to depart early. But all that your best friend leaves you with is a sinking feeling in your stomach, and a glaring realization that you did not want to make when you’re crying all alone in your apartment at the crack of dawn.

Kaeya was wrong. Xiao isn’t in love with you.

You’re in love with Xiao, and you immediately know you’re in deep fucking shit because of it.

07.

It’s two weeks into your mission of complete radio silence when Xiao finally breaks.

You’re in the middle of a pharmacology lecture when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You knew it wasn’t Kaeya because he’d already packed his things last week and headed back to his home country. The bastard even asked you for a quick farewell fuck, but you turned him down right away and gave him a kiss goodbye instead.

When you find out it’s a text message from the same person you’ve been trying to avoid all this time, you’re all too quick to parse through its contents.

Xiao: I'm sorry. Can we talk?

That’s how you wind up standing right outside of his new tattoo parlor.

You haven’t been able to take a good look at it the last time you were here—too frustrated with your best friend to really make sense of your surroundings. But he’s put up his new shop in a pretty good part of town. You wonder how Xiao managed to afford it all.

Then again, he’s been working at Beidou’s shop for years. You knew he had a decent number of regulars, as well as potential clients that are highly interested in his work.

For once, you let yourself be proud of him. Even if he didn’t put your name on the guest list for his soft launch.

Xiao looks a little sheepish when he lets you inside and flips the sign on the front door to give the two of you some privacy. You aren’t faring any better. The last time you saw him, he was balls-deep inside of you—fucking you like you’re the most despicable woman in the world.

“So there’s this…collage piece I wanted to try,” he starts, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

Of course when Xiao invites you over to talk, you shouldn’t have expected any actual talking to take place. That’s just not his style. He’d rather make up for whatever mistakes he made by inking another stupid tattoo on your body, but honestly? You’ll take whatever you can get.

When you saw his sketch of a Statue of David peppered with four-leaf clovers, you couldn’t even dream of parsing the meaning behind the piece. The only thing that makes you relent is an old memory of you and Xiao hunting for four-leaf clovers in your mother’s garden—even putting the effort to plant whatever you could find in a pot in hopes that they would grow bigger.

It takes him hours to complete the entire thing. This one is probably the most realistic piece he’s done for you, and you can’t help but watch the intense concentration on his face through the mirror on the wall as he inks it a few inches above the last tattoo he did for you.

You’ve never really realized how…breathtaking he looks like this.

His fringe falling across his pretty gold eyes, the comfortable set of his jaw as he focuses on his work, and the soft slope of his cupid’s bow despite how harsh the words that come out of his mouth can be.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You really are in love with this guy.

When he’s finally satisfied with his work, Xiao puts down his machine before wiping a sheen of sweat off his brow. He already looks so fucking good while he’s working. How is it fair for him to look even more gorgeous right after the entire process?

“Come on, let’s wrap it up,” he says before stretching his limbs. The action makes the cropped shirt he’s wearing ride up his torso a little, and you’re teased with a glimpse of the tattoo he matches with you.

Your heart nearly leaps to your throat, and if it weren’t for the dull sting of your newest tattoo, you would’ve been entranced by the sight of him entirely.

“Sure,” you say, even if your heart is begging for you to just be honest with him. To let him know how you’ve felt all this time because frankly, you can’t keep carrying the weight of your own feelings for much longer.

But then you remember how…apathetic Xiao looked like the night he dared to tell you he wanted you. There was no love to be found in his animalistic gaze, and you fear that he’ll turn you even further away at the slightest hint of more-than-friendly affection from your end.

You can live with this. His fleeting yet heated touches. His deep, piercing stares.

You’ll do anything to preserve what you have with him now—even if that means sacrificing everything else you could still dream of.

08.

Sometimes, you think Xiao is making you hope on purpose.

Sure, your friendship was more or less salvaged after offering your Statue of David tattoo as a quiet apology. You’re back to teasing him for all the most minuscule things, and Xiao is back to being your voice of reason in no time.

These days, though, you don’t really have much time to hang out with him like you usually do. You’re in the last year of your nursing degree, and your shifts at the hospital on top of your regular academic workload render you much too exhausted to catch up with any of your friends. Xiao included.

But there comes a night when he visits you in your apartment when you’re busy studying for a tricky surgery exam—a bucket full of fried chicken, and a bottle of sparkling water in hand. What kind of fiend would turn away an unannounced blessing like that ?

You munch through the midnight snack Xiao brought for you all while forcing him to do your flashcards with you. He knows the drill, anyways. Though he’s been out of school for years, Xiao is still familiar enough with your study habits to be of substantial help during these trying times.

While you’re in the middle of differentiating the different types of sutures, though, he proposes an idea.

“It’s been a while since I inked you with a sewing needle and pen ink, isn’t it?”

You narrow your eyes, taking a swig of your carbonated drink as your gaze flickers to the pseudo-Orion’s belt on your right forearm. The third star has all but faded from view over the years.

“Yeah, why are you asking?”

Xiao rummages through his knapsack for a few seconds before bringing out what seems to be a small sewing kit, and a jar labeled ‘Indian ink’. You gulp in equal parts dread and anticipation.

“I figured out how to make the tatts stay longer,” he says, a gentle smile settling over his face. “You want me to give you a new one? I can even revive good old Orion, too.”

You sigh. Who are you to turn the love of your life down anyway?

Xiao gets to work while you’re lying sideways on your bed, flinching every now and again because he decided to outline the spitting image of the flower vase sitting on top of your nightstand along the curve of your waist.

Unlike your first experience with manual needling, your pain tolerance is much better. The only reason you’re squirming every time Xiao embeds the ink into your skin is because you’re fucking ticklish. All those years of being intimately acquainted with Beidou’s tattoo machine were all the sensory training you needed, it seems.

When Xiao is done with this piece, he pulls you into an upright position, making you hold out your arm so he could resurrect the first tattoo he ever gave you. You roll your eyes, but let him do as he pleases anyway.

At this point, you’ll let him do anything with you.

It’s nearly three in the morning when you’re putting away the dishes and glasses you and Xiao used for the night. He’s kind enough to throw out the trash while you clean up in the kitchen, and when he meets you back in the living room to exchange farewells, you don’t really want him to go.

“You have morning classes tomorrow, right?” he murmurs as he pulls you into a firm embrace, careful not to press down too hard on your new tattoo. “Take care. Don’t burn yourself out too much. All your hard work will be for nothing if you end up keeling over before graduation.”

You can’t help it. The soft timbre of his voice coupled with the fond look in his eyes tears all your defenses asunder. As you look up to meet Xiao’s uncharacteristically doting gaze, your chest twists more and more as you keep yourself from lunging in for a kiss.

“You’re such a pessimist, it’s almost funny how caring you sound,” you chuckle. “Go on, now. Shoo. It’s late.”

Before you can push him out of the door, however, Xiao catches you by surprise when he leans down to peck your lips. You stay frozen in place even as he pulls away—smiling so prettily, you can hardly believe this guy is your perpetually pissed off best friend.

“Good night.”

Unlike the last time he left you all alone in your apartment, you’re filled to the brim with an emotion you can’t quite name. It’s far from the emptiness that made a home in your heart when you thought you were in love with someone who didn’t love you back. But you’re not about to call it happiness either.

Whatever this strange feeling is, you let it sit in your chest for a while longer, and it lingers even when the memory of Xiao’s lips stops prickling against the skin of your own.

09.

On the day of your graduation, Xiao asks you to drop by his shop after the rites have concluded. You tell him that he’s self-centered as fuck, and that this is your day, so if he wants to use your body as a practice canvas again, he’s going to have to wait tomorrow.

You don’t tell him that you’re sulking because he didn’t even show up to congratulate you for surviving four gruesome years of nursing. But you suppose that someone who never went to college in the first place wouldn’t be the best at sympathizing with this particular milestone in your life.

He shows you his latest sketch when you make it to his shop the next morning—and you can’t contain the look of disbelief that colors your features when you realize what it is.

“A bouquet that’ll never wilt,” he chuckles, one finger expertly pointing out the flowers he’s drawn on the neat page. “Orchids and hydrangeas: your favorite. Violets: you press a bunch of these in books every summertime. Pink baby’s breath ‘cause you wouldn’t stop gushing about them at your sister’s wedding.”

You aren’t able to stifle the flattered giggle that spills from your lips. “Can’t believe you actually remember all that. What’s the lily of the valley doing there though?”

“Oh, this?” Xiao hums with one brow raised. “Your mom had lots of them in her old garden. Those are my favorite.”

“And, pray tell, why is your favorite flower going to be permanently tattooed on my body?”

Xiao doesn’t humor you with a verbal answer right away. Instead, he wheels his revolving seat closer to you so that he’s close enough to press your foreheads together. Your breath hitches when his mouth curves into a loving smile you’re starting to get used to seeing.

“Because you’re mine,” he says simply. “Now, are you going to tell me where you want me to ink your eternal bouquet or not?”

10.

You’re a complete sap when it comes to weddings. Everyone knows this.

It’s for that reason that none of your guests are surprised when you end up crying in the middle of exchanging vows with your fiancé. Xiao sighs before taking out a handkerchief from his front pocket, dabbing at the tears streaming down your face. For someone who comes on so tough to other people, you’re awfully sentimental.

“Sorry, sorry—” you sniffle, thanking every single god out there for the invention of waterproof mascara. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

The rest of the session proceeds swiftly. You get to kiss your best friend of more than two decades and call him your husband in front of some friends and family. The matrimonial rites were held in a private resort at the base of a mountain. Both you and Xiao wanted to preserve the intimacy of your wedding as much as you could. After all, you didn’t need all that flashy and grandiose wedding prep to prove to the world just how much you want to spend the rest of your life with Xiao.

Your thoughts stay the same even as he lays you down in the king-sized bed of the cabin you had to yourselves. He sighs in between kisses as he strips you off your wedding garbs. You’re surprised he’s taking his time with you. Xiao has been eye-fucking you since you started walking down the aisle. It was so bad that even Beidou made a few off-hand remarks about the sexual tension during the reception.

“I was thinking,” you breathe as he grinds his hips against yours, “of getting another tattoo. My last one.”

Xiao lifts his head for a moment, one brow arched. “You’re married to a tattoo artist, and you think the tattoo you’re getting after the wedding is your last one? You’re dreaming, princess.”

“Fine. Point taken.” You roll your eyes. “But anyway, I want a dragon tattoo riiiight…here.”

Your husband watches with rapt attention as you guide his hand to the spot you’re talking about—just below the collection of your favorite flowers inked above your waist is a blank stretch of skin. Xiao’s lips twitch into a fond smile as his calloused fingers graze your flesh.

“Still against having showy tatts?” he asks before pressing a soft kiss on the spot you pointed at.

“Mhmm. You see, my dad doesn’t care if I’m married and have my own life. If he sees that I have tattoos, he’s still going to murder me,” you chuckle. “So yeah, tatts are staying under my clothes until he grows old enough and forgets that he hates seeing ink on other people’s skin.”

“I’ll keep that in mind then.”

When Xiao ravishes you for the first time as your husband, your chest overflows with love for him. Not everyone is lucky enough to have their best friends by their sides for as long as you did, yet you ended up tying the knot with yours. Although the entire process was more than twenty years in the making, you suppose there’s no point in rushing anything.

After all, Xiao is as permanent in your life just as much as the ink stains on your body.

“Look,” you chuckle once Xiao is done cleaning up in the bathroom and settles down right next to you on the bed, “Kaeya sent us a postcard. He says congrats on overcoming the emotional constipation.”

“Throw that thing away,” your husband grumbles, pulling you away from the pile of postcards on the nightstand. “Why are you even keeping touch with him still?”

“So I can use him as an excuse to get you jealous, and have you fuck me rough?”

“Oh, princess. If you wanted it rough…” he starts with a sigh, rolling his neck with a smirk. You gulp, wondering if you’ve bitten off more than you can chew this time around.

“All you had to do was ask.”

⟢ end notes: it's been a while since i wrote for genshin, so i hope you liked it! thank you sm for reading ^^

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin xiao #xiao fanfic #xiao smut #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #cryoculus

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galactiquest · 9 months

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I just adore your blog! Something about it and your imagines are just so sweet and homey 🥺 Could I please request some headcanons for Vash, Woowoo and Knives with a reader who loves to draw and is really passionate about it? I mostly have general sketching/figure studies in mind but you can do whatever is easiest for you! I hope that you have a good day and your blog continues to prosper <3

Thank you for the compliment 🥺!!! I'm so glad it feels homey. I try to make things like a home here... after all I LIVE HERE... thank you I hope to keep this blog going for a while after trying to revive it like twice before!

I think this request is so cute, I'm an artist too (have been for like, over a decade ^_^) so I've got lots of ideas in that aspect. I tried to keep to general sketching/traditional stylings of art but I think a lot of these can be applied to other art areas too!!

Vash, Wolfwood, and Knives x Reader: Artistry

Content Warnings: None! Reader doesn't have a specified gender, and some parts of the imagines are a little romance-oriented but this could also be interpreted as a strong friendship. Also this is my first mutli x reader so I hope the formatting's alright. No version was in mind for any of these so take them as you will!

Vash

Oh, he is definitely excited about this.

Vash is a bit of an artist, himself. He can do those super-complex technical drawings, and he really likes making art of machinery and stuff like that. There's a lot of diagrams of his arm lost in a notebook somewhere.

He loves to see your style and interpretation of the things around you. Seeing the world through your eyes, even for just a moment, is like heaven to him.

If you ever give him some of your art as a gift, he keeps it hung up on a wall or wherever he can stay for a while. (If he's in a more permanent place, his walls are covered in your art. He just loves it that much.)

The ones that are most special to him, he likes to keep in his pockets, so he can look at them whenever he needs a morale boost. Like, this is what he's fighting for: a world full of love and peace, a world that's able to keep creating beautiful art like this for years to come.

One day, the two of you get to draw each other as a sort of practice. Seeing each other through the others' eyes... again, it feels like a dream. Vash draws all the parts of you that you weren't always confident about with such care that you feel truly loved by him in that moment.

Wolfwood

"Oh, yer an artist? ... Can ya draw me?"

Yes he will absolutely pull that stunt at least once or twice, if only to get a hilarious dirty glare out of you. If you do actually take him up on this, he might let out a nervous "Haha... I mean, ya didn't have ta' do it, but..." He'll be really charmed.

Though his hands are strong and nimble from doing all those flippant tricks with the Punisher, he's entranced with the way you're able to use yours to create, to draw.

He's always sneaking you extra supplies, like pens, pencils, and paper, whenever you least expect it. You never have to ask for any of those things anymore, or even shop for them--they just happen upon your desk whenever you think you're running low.

One day, he takes a piece of your paper and a pen and doesn't let you see what he's doing until he's all done. He's a little dodgy about showing you, eventually he does. It's a crude scribble of the two of you, though you can tell he really put his all into it.

It's your most prized possession, and you give him a big hug for it.

Knives

Much like Vash, he's actually an artist himself--but doesn't really call himself one, rather saying that he's... capable of copying something he's seen part-for-part. So, his drawings are more like pictures or prints. They're exact. Eerily so.

The art that you make gets a half-hearted snort of approval from Knives, which is basically one of the highest praises he can offer in his own sort of language.

Though normally he'd want to give some sort of unwarranted criticism for a drawing looking wonky or off, he saves you from it. He doesn't want to break your passion--but he's not going to admit that outright.

If you do ask for criticism, though, he's very thorough while keeping you on the road to improvement. If you're studying a specific style, he's reading up on it. If you're trying new materials, he's making sure you have all the tools necessary for it.

And speaking of materials, he's able to secure uncommon colors and rare tools for you to use for art. He's making sure that everything you create is of the highest quality.

One day, you drew a portrait of him and presented it to him as a gift. He gave out that little snort of approval and maybe even a a tiny "Thanks..." as he wandered off. He secretly keeps it close to look at it in his private time, tracing his fingers over the ink marks and recalling your movements.

#vash x reader #wolfwood x reader #knives x reader #vash the stampede x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood x reader #millions knives x reader #trigun x reader #galactifics #love mail #Anonymous

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askcometcare · 3 months

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question, was there ever a scrapped cometcare kid?

OOC: FUN FACT TIME! From 2019-2021 Soob was kind of in existence-limbo where she had a theoretical design but I just couldn't think of a personality that would make her fit in with the other kids. Originally her interests when I designed her were more like Marcos, but I couldn't get a personality down. When I made Marco in 2020 I kinda just took Soob's original planned interests and threw them onto my vague personality concept for Marco (which was to be the "tired" eldest one, based around his allotpun). Soob didn't have that to her, and I basically didn't really use her at all from late 2019 through early 2021. In the second half of 2021 I attempted to revive her with the name Miles, but once again I ran into the issue of having no idea what I wanted her personality to be or how to even make her fit in. I was gonna make her have interests in writing but personality wise I was just clueless. Therefore I barely used her or developed her at all once again.

That's why in her old art section there's so little, despite her actually being one of the oldest legacy Cometcare cast designed in 2019 like Sly and Cream and Frosty. It wasn't until I started the blog in 2023 that I decided to try a new take on her, and I loved the magician idea a lot. A lot of the other nearsiblings didn't actually exist until I decided to make the ask blog. I had a really really vague concept for Chloe back in 2022 but never actually actualized it until I decided I was gonna actually do something with these characters after an ask blog got suggested to me by someone on here.

I think I've said before that despite having lore and personality and relationships and everything for these guys, I didn't actually have a real story or anything planned because I wasn't really making a comic with them. I just drew stuff of them and would rp with them and stuff. I treated them very differently than I did the main comic. Even now, I still treat them very differently because I feel a lot more creative freedom when it's a nonserious ask blog for-fun AU I'm working with as opposed to my serious dedicated webcomic.

#ooc

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zozo-01 · 13 days

Text

"but it burns me up when i let you down."

Google Docs said I started this fic back in August of 2022 and now two years and an accent change later, I'm finally done!! David and Darlin' unfortunately hold a part of my brain that refuses to leave me, despite my adoration for their canon counterparts. So its only fair if I gave them the same treatment that I do for the others!! :D

Thanking the lovely @thesunandmoons-blog, @lostinanothersmemories and @friendlyfaded for probably forgetting this fic existed, but it's here!! And thanking my beloved @taelonsamada and @nortyourself for reviving it again. Finally, a huge shoutout to @androgynouspenguinexpert for being the amazing beta they are and @floofdeloop for making the playlist where I got the title from!!

CW: No Angel or Sam AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Kidnapping, Torture, Blood, Broken Bones, Vomit, Character Death, it's off screen, Allusions to a Toxic Relationship and Sexual Assault, not explicitly mentioned but very much implied, Non-Consensual Trancing, vampires obvi, Quinn is a Bad Man, Canon Divergent, an alternative take on how the quinn storyline could have gone, Divine Intervention, it's me im the intervention, Love Confessions, in the most convoluted way possible, David is Bad at Feelings, And so is Darlin', Quinn is not British, apologies my bad for that, i started writing this two years ago and how so much has changed, shoutout to the Leafs once again except they're doing alright, for now

click here for the ao3 link!!

“Here.”

“Why the fuck are you giving me a necklace?”

“Thought it was pretty and you’d like it. So take it.”

“Alright, no need to be pushy baby Alpha.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me ‘baby Alpha?”

“And I won’t stop… I- um… thank you for the necklace… David.”

“...Of course Darlin'.”

David was chained up to the wall of what he thought was a basement. There was blood seeping into the hardwood floors, some of it was his and some of it was dried up from long ago. The style of the room was similar to a bar that Darlin' frequented during their lone wolf days. How he knew that wasn't important. Was the dried blood theirs? He shook that thought from his head. He had more important things to focus on. But they're important too.

It looked like he was trapped in a bar storage room, judging by the varying bottles of alcohol along the shelves. He couldn’t tell. His eyes were too damn blurry to see his hands when he held them close to his face.

He tried to lift his head from the floor, but it was throbbing with pain. The pounding registered as its own sound, but that couldn't stop him. He needed to lift his head, move his body, so he could see what the hell was going on.

His first thought was to shift through the chains, hoping that they would break with his larger wolf form. But one look at the handcuffs made him realize why that was a terrible idea. They were magic dampening cuffs, the kind the Department would use to contain 'dangerous shifters'. If he decided to try and shift through these cuffs, his wrists and ankles would have shattered. With no healer nearby, this would have been a death sentence.

David pressed his palms on the floor, attempting to get up. This time, he was able to lift himself onto his knees, ignoring the aches that seemed to be everywhere. After a deep breath, he straightened his back, leaning onto the wall behind him. As he shifted to sit in a more comfortable position, his eyes began to clear up. He was able to see properly again. He saw what—who was in front of him and sat there, body trembling at the sight of the man in front of him.

“So tell me, Alpha, how long do you think it will take for my little wolf to show up?”

He may not remember how he got here. What he did know is that the vampire Darlin' has been hunting for the last two years was in front of him.

Quinn sat on a chair, legs crossed and hands placed in his lap. He cocked his eyebrow. “Well, I’m waiting for my answer,” he said impatiently. Quinn wanted an answer now.

David took a deep breath. “They won’t be coming for me,” he said, lying through his teeth. Darlin' was the type to lay down their life for a stranger. They always cared more for others than they did themselves. If they had heard anyone was alone with Quinn, they’d haul ass to save them. Only God knows how fast Darlin' would be running if they knew it was David in Quinn’s clutches. Part of him was desperately hoping that they wouldn’t come. That they would have faith in him to save himself.

His more selfish side wanted them to be there. To see for himself that they were okay. To end Quinn’s life in front of them. To end their living nightmare.

It was his duty as their Alpha and it was his duty to his heart.

Quinn found David’s lie so amusing that he let out a laugh of disbelief, wiping the tears falling from his eyes. “Now that— that was a good joke Shaw,” he choked through his laughter. Letting out his final chuckles and calming himself, he got up from his chair and stalked towards the wolf. David tried to get up, but the chains locked onto his wrist were too short to let him stand. The most he could do was kneel before the vampire.

Quinn stood in front of David, eying the defiant Alpha. He crouched down to meet the wolf’s eyes. He glanced down to David’s bloody, snarling mouth.

“I forget how sharp shifter teeth are.” Before David could move away from the vampire, Quinn grabbed his chin and opened his mouth, admiring the shifter’s canines. “Reminds me how much they loved my teeth.”

David’s eyes went wide. ‘Makes me remember how much they loved my teeth?’ What the hell did he mean by that? He didn’t know what Quinn was saying and he hated not knowing. But he had an idea.

A deep snarl came from the wolf within him. The images of his— no, not his. As much as he wishes they were, Darlin' was not his to claim. The image of the wolf he knew laying on a bed - fuck, they’d look gorgeous on their back - with Quinn on top of them was enough to make his skin crawl. Picturing the vampire sinking his teeth into Darlin'’s neck makes him want to throw up.

“Oh? You don’t like that?” Quinn smirked, showing off his fangs. Fangs that had the luxury of marking their skin. “You don’t like the idea that they used to beg for my teeth? That my fangs had the pleasure of tasting them?”

David had to remove himself from this situation, at least mentally. He couldn't just sit there and let Quinn talk about Darlin' in such a demeaning manner. For a moment, David could forget about his predicament and just think about Darlin'. Their beautiful body and somehow more gorgeous heart. No one could have captured his heart the way they did, he'd keep

A sharp pain bloomed across David’s face, knocking him out of his thoughts, and his mouth filled with the iron taste of blood. It took him a second to realize that Quinn had punched him square in the jaw.

He looked up at the vampire, who was wiping the Alpha’s blood from his knuckles.

“Apologies for the drastic measures, but I can’t have you think of them like that.” Quinn paced around the room and his hands were clasped together as he spoke. “Believe me, I know they are incredibly attractive, but that doesn’t give you permission to think of my wolf like that.”

David took a deep breath. The chained up Alpha was in no position to make threats against the Old Blood in front of him, but he needed to say something to relieve the pent-up anger. He was going to explode from the rage at the thought of Darlin' ‘belonging’ to a man like Quinn.

In all honesty, David was fuming at the thought of Darlin' not being his.

“They’re not yours.”

“Oh really?” Quinn said in a low growl, daring David to finish his thought.

“They don’t belong to anyone.” David wolf howled right under the skin, and had it not been for the magic dampening cuffs, he would have made sure his body would be unrecognizable.

He cackled like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. “Is that sentiment supposed to make you feel better about the fact that my mark is on them?”

David’s jaw clenched as a smirk arose on Quinn’s face. “Am I wrong in saying that? My teeth were in their skin. My mark is on their body.” He let out a manic laugh, pacing around the room in a frantic glee, the total opposite of the calm villain role he was playing earlier. Darlin' probably just had that effect on him, unfortunately.

He knelt down, cupping David’s jaw in his hand. "Whether you like it or not, they’re mine. And I never let go of what rightfully belongs to me,” he sneered.

David snarled, trying to bite off the vampire's hand. The thought of him laying his filthy hands on Darlin' was enough to make him hurl, so why not do something to prevent that from happening, or at least try to? “You fucking touch a single goddamn strand of hair on their head, and I swear to God I will rip you to shreds.”

Quinn clicked his tongue, dropping David’s limp head, and continued to slowly pace around in the glorified dungeon. “It’ll be easier if you just—” he paused, placing his foot on David's back and crushing him under his heel, grinning at the grunt of pain the Alpha let out. “Give them to me. You could never love them the way I do, it's clear with the way you call them trouble."

David knew it. It was something he told himself every single night for years. He wasn’t good enough when it came to welcoming them to the pack. He wasn’t good enough to keep them away from trouble, and they had the scars on their body was proof of his failure. He wasn’t good enough to keep their heart from breaking, watching and doing nothing as they fell in love with the monster in front of him.

He wasn’t good enough back then and not much has changed since.

But he was better than the sorry excuse of a person sneering at him.

David gathered the spit and blood and bile in his mouth. He refused to lay down and let Quinn say another word about Darlin’.

But as Quinn's ears perked up, David's heart sank. There were footsteps coming down the steps, rushed and desperate to reach the basement of the bar. One sniff of the air confirmed who it was sprinting towards him, the last person he wished it was. And the person he was desperately hoping for.

Darlin' had found him. They were racing straight for the belly of the beast.

"They always hated to be late," he mused, soft and sweet like he had the right to think of them like that. Quinn turned back around to David, a crazed and wicked smile on his face. "Shall we give them a warm welcome, Alpha?"

David didn't want Darlin' to see him like this; his stomach curled at the thought. As Alpha, he tried to maintain that aura of invincibility that was expected of him. Any comment that compared himself to his late father made him beam with pride, all efforts made to replicate his presence rather than replace his father with his own leadership. But it had taken some time to find his stride with his new title, and Darlin' was instrumental to that. It was them who continued to stand by his side, even when his displaced anger should have scared them off. Yet Darlin' knew what pain hid under his anger, and he's incredibly thankful for them being patient with him.

From then on, he made an extra effort to control and compose himself around them. Apologies through acts of love weren't uncommon, and for a man who's as bad with his words as he was, actions spoke volumes. It wasn't fair that Darlin' had to constantly deal with his outbursts without any respite, so he opted to give them an extended break.

Covered with blood from various sources and broken beyond repair, David was far from the usual picture of poise. He pulled against his shackles in a vain attempt to be free, if not to save himself than at least to provide them enough time to run away. The chances of both of them escaping were improbable, but he can make sure that at least one of them will be free.

"What the fuck did you do, Quinn!?" they screamed with desperation, their voice entering the room before they did. He couldn't help but smile, at least he would see them one last time before he died.

Quinn's arm wrapped around David's neck like he was giving him a noogie, squeezing it and causing another choking fit. "Oh you know, precious, just two buddies hanging out, ain't that right, Davey?" His smile darkened, or maybe it was the blood around his mouth. If you take away all the gore and move this scene to a picnic field, this could have been cute. David chuckled in his head, morbid thoughts like those were exactly what he needed to keep sane.

With no fear for their safety, Darlin made a move to step forward, only to stop when Quinn clutched his neck, nails breaking skin and dragging down his back. "If you take a step forward, I will hurt him."

Hesitation flashed in Darlin' eyes, and he hoped that it would be enough for them to turn their back and run. (It wasn't, and it never will be.)

Stomping towards the two and their claws peeking, David could feel their core become a ferocious snowstorm, cold and vicious, making sure that there would be no survivors. "I swear to God, if you don't let him go, I will—"

Familiar pain burst across David's neck, teeth and claws becoming too familiar to differentiate at this point. He wanted to throw up at the lewd moans that Quinn let out, disgusted that this man- monster was finding pleasure in his pain. He shivered at Darlin' being in his spot, the one who Quinn's fangs dug into. Quinn had passionately spoken about their blood, to an obsessive and slightly creepy extent.

Biting David had the effect that Quinn wanted on Darlin', with Darlin' stopping dead in their tracks. Their fearful eyes locked with his, retaliations dying in their throat. Despite being frozen in place, David could see them go backwards, going back to the person they were when they were with Quinn. All the healing they had achieved was undone at sight of the monster in front of them.

He tried to speak, willing to beg in front of them to leave, but any attempts to speak were crushed like his windpipes. Quinn's doing, of course.

"Quinn, please…" Darlin's voice quivered as the anger within them died down, while David's rage continued to fester. How dare Quinn bring fear to their voice after going on about how much he cared for them. If Quinn really loved them as much as he claimed to, then he wouldn't be doing all of this. But it wasn't love that he felt for Darlin', it was the desire to control them.

"There's my precious little wolf," Quinn cooed, letting David's limp body slump onto the ground. He was glad that Quinn finally let him go, but David was too concerned with the way Quinn was stalking towards his wolf. He tried, Lord knows he tried, to crawl towards Darlin' and save them, but with all the injuries, he was lucky to move a finger.

To their credit, Darlin' didn't take a step back as Quinn got closer. Davidd knew it was because they refused to let him scare them. Defiant in the face of death, dying as a martyr with conviction of steel was an honourable way to die.

Their cold expression faltered a little bit when Quinn started to play with their hair. Growls died in David's throat, the only noise he was letting out was blood choking him to stay quiet. His inner wolf was begging to let himself out, but try as he might, he couldn't tackle Quinn where he stood. David didn't know if this hurt him more as their Alpha or as the man that loved them.

"What do you want, Quinn?" they asked, careful to not look him in the eyes, presumably to stop them from being tranced tonight. Darlin' took a moment to compose themselves, giving their signature killer look that would turn Quinn to ash. But they weren't Superman, and this wasn't a fairy tale.

(It could be if you wanted it, no? You have the power to turn this around and make sure everyone leaves tonight alive. They would be broken and bruised and would never forget this night, but they'll be able to remember. So please, help us, save them.)

(Darlin's hand slipped into their back pocket unbeknownst to the two men. They were lucky that their silencer was on.)

"Oh precious, that's no way to greet your man," he purred, eyes trailing their body in a way that made Darlin's skin crawl. He held the side of their face, nails digging into their cheek and making them look into his eyes. They ignored the pain, keeping their eyes shut to stop any trancing. Drawing blood from their face, Quinn growled, "open your damn eyes, mutt."

"Oh please, you never needed to trance me to force me to do whatever the fuck you want," they said with a cold fury. David's mind conjured up the worst of what they meant by that. He threw up at the thought of it, more blood leaving his body.

Sick bastard that he was, Quinn laughed. "It really is so much fun to make you, I love seeing your fighting spirit." His smile dropped, voice going cold, making another switch from his frantic personal to someone more composed. "But I need you to open your eyes, pretty thing. You wouldn't want me to bite your Alpha—"

Quinn didn't need to finish his sentence before Darlin' shot their eyes open, pleading with him to not hurt David even more. He didn't know why they were so set to defend him, he could take care of himself. What the fuck was the point of being Alpha if he couldn't protect the people he cared about?

"Quinn please…" David wanted to cry at how quiet Darlin's voice became, an effort to not set off the vampire in front of them. It was too rehearsed, a tone they practiced many times in the reflections of shattered mirrors. "Why are you doing all of this? I don't understand why you can't just leave me alone."

"Well it's quite obvious, precious," he started, his hands trailing from their face to their waist. "I want you back, sweetie. I've missed you, your love, your care, your intoxicating aroma," he sniffed the air around them, moaning at their scent. "It's nice to know that after all this time spent with these wolves, you still are my ferocious little thing."

"They're not yours!" David yelled out as best as he could, even though his voice was still muffled by the blood in his throat. It wasn't a lot, but it was better than sitting on his broken bones and doing nothing.

Quinn glared at the Alpha behind him, finally acknowledging his presence. Finally, David was getting bored back here. "Which brings me to this mutt," he said with so much disdain, it filled David up with pride that he was able to make Quinn hate him as much as David loathed him.

Darlin's eyes went wide and their mouth moved before they could think. "He didn't do anything wrong—"

"Oh yes he did precious, don't you dare try to protect him," he sneered at them.

Finally letting go of Darlin', Quinn stalked around the room, eyeing the two wolves with accusations ready at his lips. "You never really loved me, not the way I loved you." He stopped a few paces behind them, staring David in his eyes. Good, as long as that fucker looked at him and not Darlin', then it would be a good thing in his book.

“So that got me thinking, why could you never commit fully to me? Why wouldn’t you compromise your ‘moral compass’ for me? Why didn’t you love me the same way that I love you? It hit me." Frantic voice and manic eyes had David wondering how on Earth Darlin' was able to love a monster like him. They were the only person he knew that would treat this vile creature with love and respect that he didn't deserve.

"But I did love you," they said with hurt and guilt in their voice.

"But you didn't!" he finally yelled out. "You couldn’t because of how you felt for him.” Quinn pointed at David.

…Darlin' loved him? Darlin' loved him.

This was a dream come true in the most nightmarish way possible.

He had no time to ponder on this new revelation, already light-headed with the way his heartbeat pounded. A selfish part of him was happy that his feelings were reciprocated, that they long for him the way he did for them. But like this? Against their own will and him bolted to the wall, there was no way this was their ideal way to confess. Knowing them, they'd probably have a meticulous plan to make sure that everything went perfectly. They'll never have the chance to confess the way they wanted to. Neither would he.

His rationale came back to him after the initial high. He may have not known Quinn the same way Darlin' did, but from what he'd heard and seen from him tonight, he was a delusional and jealous asshole. Never trusting anyone to have pure intentions. He couldn't fathom that he was the issue, so he might have created this reality to remove himself from any accountability from what he did to Darlin'. Yeah, that must have been it. It broke his heart, but he'd rather a lie than Darlin' having their feelings ripped out of them to be on display.

(David remembered how casually their parents would talk about their biggest failures, as if it was gossip to them. How Darlin' would laugh along with their parents' friends, in a vain attempt to stop themselves from crying. Dance little wolf, dance for us, they would yell out, finding joy in every fumble and misstep. Yet they never stopped, always getting back up and entertaining the crowd. Ripping their heart on a silver platter to feed the wolves around them, but it was never enough. So they would break and build themselves to entertain and if they could get a good laugh, then their job would be complete.)

Again Darlin's shining eyes stood in stark contrast with their stern face. "Congratulations, you spilled my darkest secret," they said coldly. Their darkest secret? David could see their magic coursing through their veins, ready to shift at a moment's notice.

"The fuck are you going to do now?" they asked while cracking the bones in their hands, a sign that they were itching to fight but desperately needed to calm down.

"No need to bring out the claws, pretty thing. Unless you're going to dig them into me," he cackled, but the sick desire to be mauled by them was painted in bright colours on his face. Quinn took a couple steps towards them, standing between himself and Darlin'. "I just want one thing from you, precious," he started with a composed tone. "Come back with me, and I let your pathetic Alpha leave tonight alive."

The only thing that was stopping David tearing Quinn apart limb from limb were the stupid fucking magic dampening cuffs that were still on his wrist. So instead he pleaded to anyone above who was listening to force Darlin' to turn away and run. He might not have been able to save them back then, but he could at least stop them from reliving the same tragedy.

David could feel Quinn's fingers dig into his hair, pulling him up to look into his rotten eyes. "Don't speak while they make their decision, mutt," he ordered and with a flash of red, he felt the trance take over his body. Throat constricted and choking on a silent scream, he couldn't do anything while Darlin' was mulling over their options.

There was no point in trying to guess what choice they would make, it being as obvious as they were beautiful. David tried to memorize every inch of them before they were gone forever.

Darlin' had always been too selfless for their own good, always putting others over themselves. It was what made David so obsessed with them, finding beauty and good in even the most despicable people. They had a gentle heart, one that was beaten and hardened with life but at the very core still remained one of the best people he's known. If given the option to save themselves or another person, they would choose the other no matter the circumstances.

They looked up with determined eyes and a final answer. David tried to scream and yell to get them to stop, but both their resolve and the trance were too strong for him to overcome.

Walking up to Quinn, Darlin' put their hand in his. A sheep walking straight into the jaws of a wolf.

"I'll go with you, only if you promise to leave the pack alone," they demanded, making sure their sacrifice would not go in vain. Not that it would stop him, but empty promises were always better than none.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll make sure that your silly little pack will be ok," he sighed with great effort and rolled his eyes. David couldn't help but be disgusted, not understanding how anyone could act like they needed to inflict pain to survive. "Besides, why need anyone else when I have you for the rest of our eternity?" he asked in glee, knowing his answer already.

(There were wolf howls in the distance, not far, but not close enough to make it there in time. They needed to find a way to stall him a little longer.)

Before Quinn could drag Darlin' off to their doom, they resisted, pulling back their arm to make one last request. "I want to say goodbye to him," they requested while looking at David. If they were scared, then they were doing a good job of hiding it. Something told him that he was the more terrified one between the two.

Quinn tried to argue against it, saying that if they stayed a second longer then he would go back on his promise. But with enough pleading and ass-kissing, he relented. "You can have your last goodbye. Make it count though because you'll never see them again," he sneered, spitting in Darlin's face in a show of dominance.

They didn't respond, not wanting to test him even further. Not when David was here and in immediate danger.

They shuffled over to David, kneeling to be on eye level with him. Holding his broken and bruised face in their hands, he could see the amount of unsaid words running through their head. David tried to speak again, cursing the trance for forcing his silence. He wanted to reassure them that no matter what, he would always love them. That he was sorry for not telling them sooner. Maybe if he had they wouldn't have to turn to Quinn in the first place.

But most importantly, he wanted to tell them that he would hunt Quinn down, that through hell and high water that he was going to bring them back home. This wasn't a promise, this was a declaration that David would follow through with.

Finally finding the words to condense the years of love that they buried within themselves, Darlin' opened their mouth to speak. “I love you David," they whispered, tears already dropping onto their cheeks. "And I’m so sorry it has to end this tragically before it can even begin, but I would do the same thing. A hundred times over. In every damn universe where I have the honour and privilege of being able to love you.”

Darlin' did love him. And he repaid that love with nothing but pain.

Quinn clearly had enough with not being the center of attention, deciding to take matters into his own hands to take Darlin' away. "Let's go, precious," he growled while dragging them up to his feet and pulling them away from David. "And before we go," he said, grinning while grabbing the necklace around their neck and ripping it off into a broken chain. "We don't need any extra baggage with us, right?" he snarked, glaring right at David. Quinn knew exactly where the necklace came from.

It was the necklace David gave Darlin' the night he realized how he felt for them.

As he tried to scream after them, his vision began to blur. Fuck, he couldn't have been passing out now! Not when they were still too close for him to save. But he lost too much blood, it being a miracle that he was still able to move, even if it was to hold his head still to look back at him. The further Quinn walked away from them, the looser the trance became. It didn't matter though, his voice was raw from earlier, and his body couldn't move with how beaten he was.

Darlin' managed one last look behind them, with one last apologetic look. He couldn't do much, but he could at least let them know the answer to their forced confession.

'I love you', he mouthed over to them. Tears were already welling in his eyes, knowing he would never get the chance to say to them properly, with confidence and love.

But it seemed like that was all they needed. Vision fading, his last image of them was a content smile and the thought that they were loved was all they had asked for. Darlin' deserved so much more.

His eyes closed, hoping that maybe this would be the end of this nightmare. Maybe when he wakes up, Darlin' would be beside him, or even in his arms. Wouldn't that be lovely.

(The other wolves were close enough to help, leaving nothing but carnage and an unrecognizable corpse in their wake.)

–

"Oh God, is he gonna wake up?"

"It's gonna take time for him to wake up. Quinn left did a shit ton of damage, so the healing magic's need to take his time to work properly."

"Thank you, Marie. I don't know what we would have done without you."

"No problem, Asher. How bout you and Milo go grab us some food to eat? It's been a hell of a week for all of us."

"No problem ma."

"Hey kid, you alright?"

"Hm? Oh. Yeah I'm good. It's just… weird seeing David so… vulnerable."

"But he's alive and that's all thanks to you, Darlin'."

"He wouldn't have been hurt if it wasn't for me!"

"We both know this ain't your fault, that was Quinn's. So don't be out here blamin' yourself for shit you didn't do."

"…Ok, I won't shit on myself."

–

David never was a deep sleeper, always waking up at the slightest sound in the area. So why didn't he wake up to the sound of another person's breathing in the room?

He opened his eyes, immediately wanting to go back to sleep. Exhaustion was so embedded in his bones and his throat was as dry as sandpaper. Looking to his bedside table on the left, he saw a water bottle and silently cheered. He uncapped it and chugged it down, getting some feeling back into his mouth.

He was so focused on his thirst that he didn't realize Darlin' was sleeping in a chair to the right of him.

His breath hitched. How on Earth were they still so pretty while they slept? So serene and peaceful, David would do anything to keep them in this state. The detail that stood out most to him were the tear tracks on their face. Who the fuck made them cry? Where were they so that he could give them a piece of his mind and a bite with his teeth.

His head throbbed in pain with memories from what he felt was last night. Quinn torturing him to lure in Darlin'. How fucking creepy he was when they showed up. The way he was about to drag Darlin' away from him and the pack permanently. The confession that seared itself into his brain.

Oh my God. They confessed their feelings to each other.

In his pondering about the confession, he didn't realize that Darlin' had woken up. It was only when they jumped into his arms to give him the biggest hug they could have given anyone.

"Thank God you're alive," they said softly, voice muffled with their face in his chest. Frozen and unsure of what to do next, he followed his instincts and wrapped his arms around them. One arm snaked his way to their back and he put the other on their head, giving them a little massage. (Their gentle hands were nothing like Quinn's harsh ones.)

Reluctantly, they both let each other go, letting their hands linger on the other's body. Silence filled the room as the two wolves stared at each other, his green eyes meeting their tear filled ones. David brought his hand up slowly, giving Darlin enough time to move away if they needed to. But they didn't. He wiped the tears falling down on their face, watching as that simple action was enough for them to break.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," they sobbed and apologized profusely, pretty eyes not looking at him anymore. He was scared that they were going to pull away from his hand, but instead they went back to burying their face in his chest.

David was confused. He didn't know why they were apologizing. If anything, he should have been the one saying sorry. Had he been not stupid enough to get kidnapped by Quinn, then they wouldn't have felt the need to play the martyr. Not that either of them were to blame, the reason was hopefully left to burn in the sun.

"Shhh, this wasn't your fault," he said to comfort them, rubbing a hand up and down their back. They pulled their head back and he could imagine all the arguments that they were willing to bring up as a rebuttal. He wasn't going to let them get the chance to atone for the sins of a dead man, especially one as cruel as him.

Before they could open their mouth, David held them by the shoulders. "Hey, nothing was your fault," he said sternly. He needed to be clear with them, lest they carry this unwarranted guilt with them for the rest of their life. "You don't need to apologize for what that asshole did to the both of us. Look at me when I tell you this," he emphasized while tilting their head up. "Everything, all of this, that was Quinn's shit, not yours. Don't let the leech tell you otherwise."

A shaky sigh and nod indicated that they heard him loud and clear. But he knew that Darlin' hearing his words and understanding them were two different things. It was ok though, he was going to stand by their side and help them through this.

Another period of silence settled in the room, this time with stiff and uncomfortable air. David didn't know how he was going to address the fucking confession. There was no denying their feelings for each other, no way to downplay their words to just a heightened adrenaline rush. So close to their hearts coming together, only to let circumstances from putting their hearts on their sleeves.

He was tired of letting circumstances dictate when or how he got what he wanted.

"I have tickets to the Dires game if you want to come with me." He absolutely didn't have tickets for the game, given how hard they were to come by. But he was sure that he could use his connections to get some. Anything for Darlin'.

Confusion grew on their face. "…You don't like hockey," they said with a questioning tone, and they weren't wrong. He was never a fan of any sports, not finding the intense stress he's seen his friends go through worth the struggle. But he could learn to like hockey for them. He could learn to like anything for them.

He shrugged to hide the fact that his heart was beating erratically. Acting in the most nonchalant way was his only answer to not making a fool of himself.

Ever observant as they were, Darlin' asked him, "is this your way of asking me out on a date?" They nailed the coffin that buried David's confidence.

"Well yeah, only if you want to of course." He stopped himself from rambling, it would have been unbecoming of him as an Alpha. But David couldn't help but let his nerves and anxious thoughts run rampant until they gave him an answer. The butterflies in his stomach were at their beck and call, and there wasn't any other way he would want it.

"Well, I guess I can't say no to free tickets," they giggled. It was a heavenly sound, worth all the pain and strife he'd had to go through in his life. If he had a purpose in this world, it was to keep them smiling, and he was going to take that job seriously.

He told them the details about the date, when to get ready and when he was going to pick him up. While he was talking, he was trying to find a way to get tickets, going through all of the contacts that he knew. If all else fails, maybe he can beg Milo for his tickets. Dreams can come true and David was going to get those tickets somehow.

Mustering up the confidence, he leaned in closer to their face. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, making sure he had their full consent before kissing them. (He couldn't help but remember what they said about Quinn forcing them to love him.)

"Mm, I don't know," they teased with that perfect smirk of theirs. "I only kiss after the first date, Davey." Their sultry tone did nothing to hamper the desire to bite their lips.

Instead of rejection, he laughed at their joke. "You're such an asshole," he said, in awe of the beautiful wolf in front of him.

"Yeah, but you love me."

He did. He loved them the way water rises to kiss the moon.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fanfic #redacted david #redacted darlin #redacted quinn #david/darlin #i promise ill write for sam/darlin and angel/david to make up for this #but the parasites arent leaving me alone #zo writes tingz #this is zo speaking

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hikari-drkspc · 1 year

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❅ “In The Name Of Love” ❅

character: yandere! shishio tsukasa [dr. stone]

warning: yandere, implication of m0rder, c0nfin3m3nt, poss3ssiv3 tendencies ; MINOR/AGELESS BLOGS DNI, PUT YOUR AGE IN BIO/PINNED POST TO INTERACT

words: 1.2k

a/n: this is a repost from my main blog (@/hikari-writes) so yes this writing is old + bad, i just moved them here w/o editing bc im lazy and wants to keep reminding myself how bad my writing used to be <3 also this was a request from my main blog!!

“Tsukasa, remember what I told you before?”

You ask in a monotone voice, looking up at your boyfriend who was hugging you from behind.

“I remember every word you say, love, but you have to specify for me to know which one you’re referring to.”

He holds you closer to him and you could feel his warmth seeping in through you. If this were you from 3000 years ago, you would’ve enjoyed his warmth and think of how lucky you were to have someone like him as your lover.

But now, it all just seems so…suffocating.

Ever since he’s been revived back by Senku and joining the Kingdom of Science, he has become more protective and possessive of you.

No, that’s not it.

He’s already shown that kind of behaviour long ago. Maybe you didn’t realize it 3000 years ago because you two just started going out but even before when Tsukasa still was in charge of his own empire, you could’ve at least noticed the red flags he was giving.

He constantly asked you to stay with him and won’t let go of you almost until the end of the day. Even when you were about to try to do something else, he would grab you and force you to sit on his laps.

His grip on you was gentle, but it was enough to make you stay and not move around too much.

You haven’t told this to anyone yet, not even Mirai, but you were actually…dreading the time when Senku will petrify him and revive him back.

All those times when Tsukasa was still in his cryogenic state, everyone kept encouraging you to stay strong and reassuring you that Senku will revive him back soon.

And you would always just reply to them with a wry smile and a “I’m fine,” so as to not worry them.

You originally had thought you were going to feel depressed about this whole ordeal too. But you never did.

In fact, you felt so…free. Almost as if a big burden had just been lifted from your shoulders. You were happy with that.

You actually even wished Senku never found the Petrification Weapon. You truly enjoyed the freedom that you felt. You wished it would stay.

But in the end, nothing ever stays.

Tsukasa was revived and you are back in his grip once again.

You hated every moment of it.

“About being too protective of me! I was just going to help Gen with some of his work. I know you’re protective of me because you’re worried, but can you please just let me do something to help others?”

You finally break free from his hug and turn to him. Your eyebrows are crossed, showing how displeased you are with the whole situation.

“But if I let go of you, you’ll definitely run away from me.”

Your eyes widened at what he said. You didn’t expect him to feel that way. All this time, you had thought that the reason Tsukasa was so overprotective of you might’ve been because he was worried…or maybe even because he wanted to have control of you.

You went quiet for a moment. In a sense, he’s not wrong. But to actually know he felt that way…it’s actually making you feel guilty.

“Tsukasa….I won’t run away from you, so don’t worry, alright?”

You wrap your arms around his large frame, successfully convincing him that you won’t do something like that. He returns the hug and pulls you closer.

“…Y/N, if you truly mean what you said, will you forgive me for what I’m about to do?”

You pull away and look up at him, confused.

“Sure?”

Not even a second after that, you felt your consciousness slowly slipping away from you. You could hear the loud throbbing from your neck after Tsukasa just striked it.

“W-wh…”

You mustered up what little strength you have left to let out a “What?” but even that has proven to be difficult. All you managed to hear was Tsukasa’s last words before you completely lost your consciousness.

“Do forgive me for doing this, love. You’re too pure to be tainted by this dirty world.”

~~**~~

You slowly open your eyes to see the darkness greeting you. You tried to get up but your whole body felt so weak and your limbs refused to work for you. You cursed under your breath and tried to adjust your eyes to the darkness. The place sure seemed familiar.

Then it hit you.

It’s the prison.

You tried to scream out loud but your voice only echoed throughout the prison without anyone responding. You could feel your heart beating rapidly like never before as soon as you heard a series of footsteps nearing you.

It’s not as if you recognized the footsteps or anything, but the way the pace is so calm and unrushed even after your scream of help convinced you that the owner of the footsteps knew you’re trapped in there. And they’re not willing to let you out anytime soon.

And who else would want to do such things other than your former beloved,

“Tsukasa…”

You hissed out his name while glaring at his broad figure towering over you over the cell wooden bars.

“I’m sorry you had to go in here, my love. Trust me, I don’t want you to be placed here either, but I have no choice.”

He tried to cup your cheeks in his hands but you quickly moved your face away from him.

“Tsukasa, whatever this madness is, STOP it. Do you think the others won’t know what you’re doing? Soon enough, you will—”

“They won’t. After all, you are considered dead in their hearts.”

He cut you off with those words and your eyes widened in horror at him. Your lips tremble and you try to hide your unease by glaring at him.

Before you could ask him what he meant, he spoke up as if he had just read your mind.

“I told them that you died. An animal attack, precisely. It’s completed with evidence and all. I did also get some helping hand from some people though. Couldn’t have done it without them.”

He stops for a moment to look at you who were frozen in your place and finally cups both your cheeks to bring it closer to him.

“This cell was built especially for you, back when I still ruled over my own empire. It’s located very deep into this cave, and no one would dare to come here.”

“You mean to say you’ve been planning to put me in confinement for a long time now?! What— I-”

Tsukasa looks at you, his eyes turning soft and he looks so melancholic. You almost snapped at him when you saw that expression. If anyone here is supposed to cry, it’s YOU, not him.

“I didn’t think it was necessary…until recently. When other people started looking at you as if you’re some kind of walking meat that they’re about to devour. It disgusts me so much, and I couldn’t handle it anymore…so I made the decision to keep you safe here….and wipe those people out.”

Your blood runs cold at that statement.

Wipe those people out?

He couldn’t have meant that literally….right?

“W-why–”

You didn’t even realize your tears were running down your cheeks until you felt Tsukasa gently wiped them away. He gives you his soft smile that you used to know so very well, yet it felt so foreign now.

“Because I love you, Y/N. I always have and will continue to forever be in love with you.”

#dr stone #dr stone shishio tsukasa #dr stone tsukasa #shishio tsukasa #tsukasa x reader #dr stone x reader #dr stone tsukasa x reader #tw: yandere #tw: confinement #yandere dr stone #yandere dr stone x reader

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ask-danganronpa-after-death · 8 months

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Hello there!

I bet you didn't expect to see something from this very dead blog today, huh? Anyways, It's been... a really long time... like over a year and half worth of time. So we're well overdue for an update!

(tl;dr at the end)

I'll just start with some honesty on my part, when Mod Prom asked me to help them revive this blog the first time, I had just played V3. A lot of the plot points and minor details were still pretty fresh in my mind, and writing what amounted to a full retelling from a different perspective, felt more doable. Now it's been a few years, a lot of life, and I'd be hard pressed to remember V3 clearly. I've tried to start a second playthrough, and I've tried to watch let's plays for chapter 2 to write more for the blog, but none of it has been successful.

and BELIEVE ME I've been wanting to start this blog up again for MONTHS. In fact, I've had 4 posts READY to release since March of this year, and at least 8 posts drafted and thumbnailed. I just... didn't want to bring this project back until I knew I could actually commit to it. I thought maybe if I had enough of a backlog I could simply start posting once a week and try to keep pace, but that was a lot harder than it sounded.

I don't want to abandon this blog, this story and these characters, and I don't think I can properly put into words how strongly I feel about that.

This is update could have happened at any time, but is coming out now because well... me and Prom are working on some bigger original projects. Ones that we're SO excited to share. This blog in it's limited run has taught me a lot and I want to learn more. I want to be able to bring this project to a more natural conclusion, put it to rest with pride, and to be able to enter a bit of a new creative era.

I've been talking with Mod Prom and we think it's best to take a step back from this actually being an ask blog. Handling the inbox was a bit of a nightmare, and I've got a LOT more respect for the ask blogs of yore that managed to keep up. We still want to keep engagement, but we're going to change just how that works. We're just not sure how yet.

The first step to getting started again is posting the drafts I already have completed as a way to enter the second chapter, and from there things are going to play out a bit more loosely. Posts are gonna focus more on key story beats and occasional goofy tangents as opposed to moment to moment storytelling.

TL;DR - This blog is getting revived, but things are going to be a bit different. We want to give a proper telling and conclusion to the story we started, but keeping up the format isn't something Mod Prom or I can really tackle, we'll still try to accept and post asks when we can.

Thank you to everyone that has been patient with us, and to everyone who might join us in the future

~ Mod Noodle 🌱

#ooc post #mod doodles🎨#Third times the charm right?

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inkabelledesigns · 3 months

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I know I'm posting a day late here, but Happy Birthday Bendy! February 10th, 2024 marks the 7 year anniversary of when Bendy and the Ink Machine came out. And boy, has it been a wild ride. Normally I would reserve this for my Bendy sideblog, @angelofthepage , but I'm posting it here because this is where I started years ago, and I want some of those people who don't see that blog to have a chance to see this. Because you guys are a part of this story.

In about three months, seven years ago, I was in finals hell, working through my process book for my packaging design class in one of the dorm lounges while my roommate had taken the room for herself again. And the only thing keeping me sane was putting Can't Be Erased and Build Our Machine on loop as I worked. BATIM only had two chapters out, and I didn't know everything about it, but I was so intrigued by what its deal was. I took one look at Sammy Lawrence and I wanted to know everything about him. Something about this barely started game, the idea of your characters coming to life to kill you, it thrilled me, intrigued me. It was something I was really afraid of, being so attached to my characters and putting so much of my identity in my art. And while the story isn't really all that much about cartoons themselves being alive, it gave me something else that ended up changing my life.

Over that summer, I would become obsessed, and for the first time in years, I let myself be a fangirl again. And maybe one day I'll pull up the timeline and tell you how it all went down. But right now, after all the celebrating of yesterday, I just wanna take a moment to appreciate the last seven years. All the people I've met, all the friends I've made. All the experiences we've had together, big and small. Some have been incredibly close, and others have been people I still smile about whenever I see them on my feed, even if we're not all doing stuff in the same fandom anymore. There's some people I've fallen out of touch with that I likely won't ever see again that I miss. There's some I'll be lucky if I never see again. There's the official voice actors for Dark Revival, which I've had the pleasure of working with on community things here in the fandom. I regularly moderate their livestreams (or Lovestreams as we call them) where they sign prints and interact with us fans (and sometimes I'm tech support, once an ink machine technician, always an ink machine technician xD). I'm honored to call a lot of them my friends, we've had some truly wonderful conversations. I've spent a lot of time in a variety of servers, trying to uplift people and make for a positive fandom experience for everyone, fans old and new. Sometimes it lands me in interesting places, like helping out over on the Inky News channel. The host, Brandon, invited me over to guest star on his anniversary stream yesterday, and in the past I've been fortunate enough to showcase my art on two of his interviews, one with Dave Rivas and one with Adrienne Kress. Sometimes it lands me on fun projects, like working on a fan game, and for the first time it's not as a voice actor! I'm a writer. I've had my work uplifted in turn too, meeting people who value me for me and also cheer me on when I try new things (sometimes entirely new mediums like doll customizing). I got my first helpful constructive critique in this fandom, and it was something I ASKED for. That is a huge personal milestone! I have a really complex and twisty set of feelings about critique, and finally, I feel better, because someone helped me start to unravel that just by being themselves and being thoughtful. It's inspired me to want to be better in how I handle critique and problem solving with others.

I spent so much of my life putting my self worth in other people's hands. I thought I would never be good enough to have friends who didn't treat me like garbage. I thought I'd never be a good artist in any sense of the word either. But I was wrong. I've grown. I'm valued, I'm wanted. I don't have to hide parts of myself to be desirable. Sometimes being the silly, goofy, fangirl that is Kat is enough. My art is enough, my ideas are enough, my flavor is tasty, and I am a goddamn treat. And after so many years of not knowing that, I'm glad I finally do. And it's all because of the people. It wasn't ever that my flavor was bad, it's that I hadn't found people with a taste for it yet. Bendy's greatest gift was giving me a fresh start, a chance to meet new people, good people, and for that, I'm forever grateful. Even though things have changed, I'm glad I met each and every one of you, you all taught me something valuable along the way, and I think about those experiences we shared often.

I won't lie to you, I've been rather frustrated with Bendy lately. And I think a lot of it has to do with the games not truly having grown with me. At some point our paths deviated, and there are elements of what's come and what's coming that are getting away from what really enticed me about the very first entry, the things I valued most in it. But in some ways, analyzing that has led me to figure out what made that first game so special. It was human. It was a character focused game, and each of the characters, while vague, gave us just enough about themselves that we could feel for them, get invested, imagine, maybe even sympathize. Everyone is a tragedy, but they're all different flavors of tragedy. And it was seeing people explore that, seeing people write these characters in ways that were so human, that really built a connection. For some people, Bendy is another indie horror experience. For others, it's something to indulge in that hits hard on a personal level. In many ways, it attracts a lot of us who feel like misfits. It's many things. But to me, the magic was in the people. The people in this universe, and the people in its real world community.

It has solidified my belief that people should play with fiction however they want, no matter how far it deviates from the canon, no matter how weird it is. Go be interpretive, go tell your story, go be free to make what speaks to you! (All I ask is that you're thoughtful about tagging it so people can make smart choices about engaging with it.) All stories are worth telling. Even if no one gets into it, having told it makes a difference.

Whether you're someone who's been there from the beginning, or someone that's new to Bendy, I hope you're all having fun. Whether you've finished exploring the world or you've just begun, I hope you've found something valuable. Thank you, for coming along for the ride. Here's to many more fun experiences and stories, be they official or be they in the fandom. Happy Bendyversary!

#long post #bendy and the ink machine #batim #bendyversary #personal thoughts #bendy

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islandofsages · 5 months

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return to ... wonderland?

hello everyone!!

i won't lie to you, i didn't think i'd ever revive this account. i even thought of deleting it sometimes but i know that some may still want to take comfort in my writing and the thing is, i do get notes from time to time despite the state of this account.

but recently i found myself in the x reader trenches once again ... just not for genshin unfortunately. i'm no longer part of the fandom. rather, now i'm rebranding this blog to become a twisted wonderland x reader blog instead!

but aside from that, nothing much has changed. i will still only write non-romantic requests, despite me now being unlabeled and definitely experiencing some romantic attraction here and there ahaha. crazy what time does to you.

i did want to try writing for multiple fandoms but i don't think i have the passion for writing x readers for them so i'm still sticking to one central fandom for this blog. if that changes, well, i'll cross that bridge when i come to it.

i've decided to loosen up the boundaries here a bit and now fem/fem-aligned readers are allowed to interact with my work but you can't follow nor request for fem!readers bc i'll just be blunt with you - most x readers are still fem reader-dominated. i've even seen some anons default to she/her pronouns for allegedly gn readers. so no, fem readers are not a thing here. mutuals are an exception to this rule, you can follow, but you guys still can't request for fem!readers. that is one thing i will absolutely refuse to write.

also, since this is focused on twisted wonderland now, requests should specify if reader is yuu or not. i know it's a normal to assume reader would be yuu since yuu is supposed to be us but some of us just can't really insert ourselves into yuu regardless (like me, my self-insert is not my yuusona. they are different characters).

oh and i also write for character x character now !! i absolutely love exploring dynamics in this game bc it feels like any pairing is possible. still no romance but you can request them :D

those are the main changes. you can find smaller changes + more details in my rules (which is in my pinned!). and don't worry, the old genshin stuff will still be there for you, i won't remove them. just keep in mind that i won't be writing for genshin anymore.

and that is all for now!! feel free to send in requests + spread this around :] and don't be shy to ask me anything or even just chat through asks <3

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if-lost-please-return-to-maliksi · 5 months

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"...and I wonder if gods cry too-"

Act 1 - Bleed for him or Make him bleed

Disclaimer: I do not own Maliksi, or Makisig (the Tamawo bros). Full Credit goes to HC - @ask-emilz-de-philz. Please check out their blog for amazing art and the wonderful world of Planet Puto.. All involved characters are adults.

A/N: Pouring my heart and soul in this multi chapter fic. CHAR LANGGG. HAHAHAHA. If you see a she + she ship at the first part, that's intended. i didn't mess up the pronouns.

Genre: Angst pero may kissies po for us kasi galing po kami ni Maliksi sa date, opo.

Best paired with: Tiny Vessels by Death Cab for Cutie

"...smart move. Keeping true to your words is a smart move, tamawo."

Maliksi let out a sharp exhale through gritted teeth as he clenches his fists while looking at the ground, not lifting his head up to stare at the imposing dalakitnon in front of him. "Make it quick before my brother notices that I'm gone and god forbid starts looking for me."

"Impatient as ever. Do you remember that little story I told you before?"

The dalakitnons weren't always hailed as dangerously powerful before, as beings not to be dealt with...

Yes, their magic has always been far more superior than the other engkantos and that led to them toying with lives of weaker beings and mortals, not expecting them to retaliate.

There was that dark age when their kind was almost exterminated by the very humans they looked down upon and tormented.

Who would've known that humans, when working together can be an unexpected threat- especially since gods were known to favor some of them.

Humans can be strong, oh so strong- But they cannot get rid of the things that makes them human. They are too emotional, too attached to one another, too....soft.

It didn't took long for the dalakitnons to study them, discovering that they were lead by a babaylan- she was smart not to have blood related family present at that war. But not smart enough to conceal her budding feelings for one of the hunter's sister who often visited them. The way her hands brushed against hers, the way her eyes glimmered with more hope even after being beyond exhaustion, and the way she looks at her...

The remaining dalakitnons can still remember the babaylan's scream the night that they were able to lay hands on her lover- they didn't kill her right away... They poisoned her mind and heart slowly, corrupting her to the core until she was just an empty vessel, a puppet for their amusement as she grabbed her brother's blade and used it against her beloved babaylan.

Oh, the horror in that babaylan's eyes as she realized she was too weak to even think of hurting her lover just to save herself, the way her tears fell as she embraced her tight one last time and whispered how much she loves her before falling off a cliff to their deaths, not even mentioning a single one of her fault for being a victim of the dalakitnons.

Before the war ended shortly, the dalakitnons gathered to put a curse on that babaylan's bloodline- she is not to have any female descendants for 6 generations- making sure that that wretched bloodline will not live on, or at least be thinned enough to not produce someone who will be of threat to them.

The dalakitnon has always seen almost unrivaled potential from Maliksi, that's the very reason that they answered for his call when he was trying to revive his brother Makisig. And how convenient it is to make use of him right now, afterall, a debt is a debt.

"The curse we've put on that bloodline has been lifted 30 years ago, and as expected...And a female descendant has been born around that time... Remember our little deal, Maliksi?"

"Yes, but why don't I just kill her to make it easier and faster for both of us?"

The dalakitnon softly chuckled before answering,

"And keep killing every single female born out of that family for centuries until we engkantos raise suspicion once again?

We would've just curse that damned bloodline again if it was possible, but it's not!

Those damned gods favoring that wretch even after centuries!

It will only take time before some human stands up to us if we kill them, so we won't.

And don't act like it's much of a bother, all you have to do is to keep her and use her to make tamawo babies. Isn't that just your normal job? That's a win/win for both of us."

Maliksi looked at his reflection in the small pond under the moonlight, steeling his resolve before taking the path that you walk at night according to the dalakitnon. It didn't take long before he spotted you walking alone. You were young, probably in your mid twenties with a small stature. He wonders if he'll be sinning against the same gods that favored your predecessor for doing what he must do.

"Binibini~" He softly called out to you with that sweet tone his Kuya Makisig uses to get any lady swoon over him.

You turned around to be met with Maliksi's golden eyes and a smile no one could ever resist.

"...yes?"

You softly answered as you get lost in those eyes and before you knew it, he was already leaning in to kiss you. The tamawo's saliva instantly kicking in like a drug and quickly putting you in a trance.

Makisig was too impatient for all that sweet talk and such that his kuya usually does. As long as a tamawo kisses a human, or any other way to get them ingest their saliva, then everything is all set up for them to take the human back to Biringan City.

The moment you woke up from what seems to be days of slumber, you were already part of Maliksi and Makisig's household. You were informed of your set up, and what your agreed upon duties are.

Makisig was sweet but he never touched you nor interacted too much with you so it gave you an idea that you must've belonged to his younger brother, Maliksi.

It was weird since you were the only one who follows him around like a puppy while his brother has multiple ladies on his harem- you didn't question him though since he seems to not like it when the other ladies bother him with questions. To your surprise, he doesn't act that harsh around you. He often listened to your requests and treats you nicely and properly which often leads to the other ladies' jaws on the floor, eyes wide as plates as they question their own sanity upon seeing how calm he is around you.

Maliksi felt guilt out of anything else whenever he sees your face endearingly staring at him with those eyes. The night he found you, he made sure to put you into twilight sleep and tamper with your memories- something he will always beat himself over.

You were just an innocent human after all. A civilian caught in the crossfire. As much as he hated your kind for hurting his family, you didn't exactly do anything to harm him and his Kuya, hell if it weren't for his deal with the dalakitnon, you'll probably live a normal life until you're old...and die a normal death. Yet here you are following him around without any thoughts but to be at his side. It made him sick to his stomach how he practically erased all of your entirety- the memories of your friends, family, and even your own personality. It's as if you didn't exist before being with him.

He can never be mean to you- as much as the others may think how out of character it was to be seen holding you in his arms and making you smile, he knew that it's the least he can do for you after what he put you through-

"Maliksi?" You softly called out for him while sitting on his lap, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Yes, Y/n?" He smiled as he gently brushed your hair away from your face, tucking gently behind your ear.

"One of Maki's girls was talking about her life back at the human realm...why can't I remember mine?"

There it is- that dreaded question leaving your lips once again. And once again, he has to lie to your face.

Maliksi held your cheeks tenderly before pressing his lips against yours, "What do you mean, beautiful? Maybe it's because I give you too much kisses. You know how dangerous our kisses are, right?" he softly said in between kisses which made you giggle and just let the question slide like you always do as you wrap your arms around him while kissing him back.

"Hmm. Maybe. It's okay, though. I love your kisses, and I love you."

"I know, Y/n. I know, sweet girl."

There it is, out in the open- how you were falling for him. Completely and without any inhibitions. Not that you would know better since all you knew was him. Your world revolves around him.

Yet all he sees in you is a kind and gentle person that he's badly wronged. What he feels for you is pity above anything else.

Love? He is not someone who knows of love other than his love for his brother. That same love that brought this fate down to you. He doesn't love you or does he plan to. But he is not a monster, he will not say that to your face. What's a little lie to prevent him from hurting you more than he already has?

Art by: @ask-emilz-de-philz, that's their OC, Maliksi the Tamawo. Please visit their blog and support theem <3

((I LOV THIS FIC SO MUCH- LIEK... HNGGGG. PART 2 WILL BE POSTED TOMORROW HAHAHA. MY INTERNET IS JUZZ ACTING UP RN KAYA DI KO MATAPOS))

#planet puto #philmytcrea #planetputo #rp tamawo #maliksithetamawo #rp maliksi #writers on tumblr #ianewrites

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labsticks-au · 6 months

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Is this blog still up?

maybe?? im not entirely sure. i got burnt out after i found 30 asks in my inbox and I’m not entirely sure what to do?? it’s been sitting in limbo space for a while.. i might revive it once i get the free time though!! christmas break is starting up again for me so i’ll try to at least continue the story, even by a little bit lol

#lab sticks au

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opinated-user · 7 months

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*ejem*

you claim you got treated for stage 1 skin cancer with chemotherapy. the treatment for stage 1 skin cancer is a minor surgery. for you to require chemotherapy it would have been a more advanced cancer, it's medically impossible otherwise because chemotherapy is super aggressive for your body and not to mention expensive, even if you live in Canada. people get in debt trying to pay for their treatment in Nova Scotia where LO lives and, yet, her immediate family doesn't even know that she has cancer so where did she get the money to afford that treatment? for us to believe that she had chemotherapy for months to treat stage 1 skin cancer, we have to believe that LO's doctors lied to her about how severe the cancer was or that she's lying. which one is more likely?

LO has talked about finding mouse on her apartment and being so startled that she kicked them out against the wall, which adds up to her "joking" about throwing rocks to cats during a stream, for the horror of MO's, or the claims that she severely tortured a little hamster when she was a kid. plus, she never made a claim about capturing the mice. she made many posts about the mice prefering to be trapped in glue, which would give them a slow and painful death, rather than any humanitarian option.

i don't know about you, but making so many posts about this sounds to me like desperately trying to convince people that you didn't want to kill the mice slow and painfully, that they did it all by themselves. which is... concerning. and wait, while looking for this i found you calling what you went through as an infestation.

3. no, you lied about giving drugs to your classmates, alongside lying about giving tampons for free, as some sort of tale about how badass you want people to believe you were during highschool. even though your classmates very easily could get all of them themselves, so why would they need you? but either the tumblr search function is acting up again (possible) or you finally realized how much of ridiculous story that was that you deleted it from your blog. i'm sure someone out there has the archives version of it, i'll reblog with them once i find them. point is, you were the one starting that story. we all know already you're extremely weird about pot, that's not news.

4. "a few"... that's a funny way to call a bunch of them. how convenient that LO also skips the part in which many of her friends start talking about how utterly horrible they felt while being around her and how much better they were once they were away from her. how all of them keep telling the same story: i felt like i was walking on eggshells, i felt pressured to tolerate behaviour i wouldn't otherwise, i was lovebombed, etc. 5. LO is the one who said that "money is tight" right now, not us. and now i also can't find the post where she said that, how convenient. plus, we can actually see how your "business" (making videos) is doing. we can see that your numbers are not good, LO. everyone can. it has been pretty bad for months. your big pokemon project i'm sure will help you out for a bit, but it's nowhere close to the SU video and you know it, that's why you try to revive with another SU video that i can only imagine right now will not succeed either because everyone is done with your dragging this corpse of a horse around.

#lily orchard

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dreadnotau · 8 months

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Its been a decent couple of months of productive work, so it's sadly time for a schedule change. I'll be posting pages two weeks apart again. Details provided below if you're curious as to why.

In all honesty there's no big dramatic reason this time around. I've just slowly lost drive to work on Dread Not as often and as thoroughly as I used to be able to. As I said in one of my previous posts (that sounded suspiciously like this one), I want to focus on other projects as well. One of those is my personal art blog, which I've neglected even though I've had art on the backburner that I've been meaning to post for AGES. Kingdomrune is another one of those, where I have shit I could post that I just... never did. Dread Not takes a lot of time and I miss being able to dedicate that time to consuming media instead of just grinding and trying to produce my own. One of the most important things to do as an artist is to broaden your horizons and take in as much art as you can, to diversify and expand what you know and what you can make. But, when all day every day I'm just sitting and drawing my own thing, it's like I have tunnel vision and my creative resources run dry. It's starting to feel weirdly soulless on my end, because I don't feel nearly half the inspiration to make the pages as I did when the big hiatus ended. It's all dependent on time and exposure, and I can only crunch for so long before it starts to feel damaging to me instead of fun and creatively fulfilling.

So what does this mean, practically speaking? Well, for one, I'm spacing out the page upload for the rest of Act 1, as previously mentioned. I'm well aware this will kill the pacing and it'll drag out longer than it theoretically needs to, but I'd even rather that than trying to rush out a page in the Two Days I have free this week (yeah, ONLY two days free out of the ENTIRE week. Don't ask me why it's not even my fuckin' fault this time). If pages become even more scarce than 1 page per 2 weeks, blame it on college. I'm getting new subjects and I don't even know the class schedule yet. Concerning Act 2 though, I'll be changing the structure of the pages from their core. I'll be switching to a different drawing software (probably Krita, suck my dick Photoshop) so it'll take some getting used to. I can't even promise bonus content or anything during the necessary break between acts because of that shift in software happening, I've never done a massive technical move like this. However, it'll allow me to, not only work on Dread Not better, but expand my art overall, so it's definitely worth it. I've wanted to get into animation for YEARS and Krita seems like an okay place to start (the gif on this post WAS made with Photoshop, but shitty gifs are about all I can make as animations in Photoshop). Act 2's style will, predictably, differ heavily from Act 1 and (with how long writing the dialogue alone for it is taking), it might end up being Longer than Act 1, too. Visually, it'll probably be something like cleaned up and coloured sketches, with simpler colour palettes and simpler (big airquotes) visuals overall, and it'll speed up the process and possibly allow me to post more than one page at a time. Possibly. That's not a promise.

I'm sorry if that's disappointing to anyone, but I physically can't make myself continue the current artstyle across all acts. It's just not feasible.

For those curious about the FARTHER future of Dread Not, I have plans to turn Act 3 into a series of fics rather than full comic pages, and something maybe a bit more insane for Act 4. I don't have everything figured out yet, and I don't want to make any false promises or give any grand ideas I won't be able to commit to, since only time will tell how my creativity will flow years from now. If you all want more content from me specifically, again I'm planning on reviving my art tumblr like a half buried zombie, and you'll probably see more there than you bargained for once I actually get into the habit of posting things. If you're mayhaps interested in my original stuff, keep your eyes peeled for a guy called Duro, I might start posting about him some time soon.

As always, thank you for your patience, and apologies again if this news was disappointing to anyone. I'm just one guy and this comic is a titan of biblical proportions. I'll keep you all posted on any further developments and plans for the future! Stay tuned!

#dread not #dreadnot #dread not au #dreadnotau #not comic #kris #schedule update #i was supposed to post this yesterday but then i got fucking sick #spent all day in bed hardly awake #so those two free days i mentioned in the post?#gone. just like that.#fuckin pray for me

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gentrychild · 2 years

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Hi! I'm not exactly a fan of BNHA and most of my knowledge about it came from fics and your blog. Curiosity about Bakugo's "death" led me to read the last 3 chapters, and the newest one confused me. I'm hoping you could shed some light on it?

Why is it important to the heroes that Bakugo lives? To the point an older, more experienced hero is prepared to sacrifice himself to revive Bakugo? Does he have some kind of secret weapon the heroes can use? What makes him /that/ important and vital to the current crisis?

Thanks for the help. I hope you have a fabulous day! (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

I think you already know the answer to your question.

More seriously, I have waited quite a while before answering this ask because I wanted to see what the next chapters would deliver and also so I was sure not to be instantly proven wrong after unleashing a vast quantity of salt. But I don't want to wait longer so here are the usual warnings: this is going to be a salt post, this is my opinion and not some absolute truth, and I accept the risk of being disproved.

Bakugou's death and everything that happened afterwards was pointless and cheap.

I personally found Bakugou's "death" very underwhelming because, especially for such a popular character, there are far better ways to bring one incredible death scene. The manga tried to show us that he went Plus Ultra and how much he had changed but the way it was brought made it underwhelming. His death could have brought more damage to Shigaraki. Or, one could have gone in the opposite direction and shown that yes, he didn't stand a chance against ShigarAFO but put more emotion into it to show that he fought for every additional second. Or he could have "died" protecting someone, which would nicely tie-in with his character arc of learning to be a hero who saves people.

Instead, the result was lukewarm. And the fact that pretty much everyone knows he isn't really dead doesn't bother me. But the last chapters did, especially when Bakugou already got seemingly killed by ShigarAFO during the war arc (and got away with only a couple of cool scars).

But what was a "Ah! That happened! Pretty cool quirk application moment and I like the change we see in Bakugou once he is waiting in purgatory with Flame Might!" moment because a clusterfuck of epic proportion with what is done to try to bring Bakugou back.

The asspulls of all asspulls. The most "WTF" moment of the entire manga and I am saying that while fully aware that Mirio twerked in front of Shigaraki one chapter later.

Edgeshot decides to kill himself on the off chance of bringing Bakugou back to life. He intends to fold himself à la Plus Ultra to become Bakugou's new heart, performing one of the most WTF open-heart surgeries ever on the middle of the battlefield while ShigarAFO is stomping on the remaining members of the Dream team.

How does he know how to do that? Is that how one of his parents die? Why is he doing that? Because his generation failed Bakugou's so he must atone and as an adult, he must save the kid.

The sheer troll logic one must attain to decide something like that is beyond my comprehension.

Edgeshot isn't dying at the time. It's not a "At least, my death might save him" moment. No, this is a top hero, who decided that he had to die to save one kid while the Big Three are fighting for their lives. In the time it took him to pull that not-so-life-saving procedure, Miruko has now lost all of her limbs, now channeling the Dark Knight of Monthy Python but hey, at least, she is certainly doing a better job than Edgeshot at trying to stop Shigaraki from killing them all and destroying UA, which is, in case I need to remind someone, FULL OF PEOPLE WORKING TO KEEP THAT THING IN THE AIR.

To answer your question, not only was "saving" (because, again, Edgeshot doesn't even know if it will work) Bakugou detrimental to the whole operation because they sacrificed a top hero during a situation where all hands on deck were required but it might have been for absolutely nothing.

Even if Bakugou, now part jeans and part ninja, starts breathing again, no one sane of mind would expect to get back to his feet and to fight again.

Now, I will hazard a guess as to why this so-called death was necessary. I could be wrong. But I feel that this was a desperate attempt for Bakugou’s character to have an excuse not to do anything while Izuku is fighting Shigaraki.

Because there has been kind of an elephant in the room for several arcs now.

The manga doesn’t want to outright say that by now, Izuku is stronger than Bakugou. Not just stronger, as in “in a fight, Deku would win”. I am talking about Izuku being in a league on his own by now.

Because here is the thing: you have Bakugou who is a really popular character, who rose to the rank of deuteragonist, and who is defined by two things: he never stops fighting and he never loses. And now that he is fighting the big bad (well, one of them), it’s a problem because if Bakugou wins, that means the entire hero society is incompetent, so is the villain (since he got beaten by a first year) and the MC and OFA is useless. But if he loses or just shown not to be able to keep up with ShigarAFO and Deku and has to stay on the sideline, it’s almost out of character for him because one of the things he keeps repeating to Izuku is “Don’t try to do things alone.” (The Jakku battle and the solo arc, in case you’re wondering.)

I disgress but that’s another thing the solo arc could have been useful for. Really setting up the fact that Izuku can fight with Shigaraki on his own and that he was now in a different power category than his classmates. Instead, we got the “This is the story of how we all become heroes” and the plot must now bend over backwards to justify it.

Also, there is a 75% chance that Bakugou wakes up at some point, with Edgeshot’s quirk, and helps finish ShigarAFO.

So, to answer your question, no, there was no reason for Edgeshot to kill himself over the possibility of reviving Bakugou. Bakugou and Edgeshot had no prior interaction that could justify this. And if Izuku arrived ten seconds later, this sacrifice would have been for nothing.

#Sorry for unleashing the salt on you but you caught me in a moment of weakness #bnha salt #bnha manga spoilers

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randomfoggytiger · 1 year

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Inbox being weird again, had to repost (sorry, anon!)

What are your thoughts on IWTB? It’s now on hulu and I am like 15 minutes in to a rewatch (I’ve watched FtF a truly offensive number of times but have only seen this once, when it first came out) and am absolutely incensed already. I’m having trouble making sense of their characters, they seem so OOC to me — even with the understanding that they are (possibly both) depressed and life on the run has really jaded and hardened them. Also its so weird to me that Amanda Peet reaches out to touch Mulders cheek bc he cut himself shaving? Just bizarre behavior all around!

It is a truly bizarre movie. I've not seen it; but I have done extensive research on it, if that makes sense. I think it can be summed up by this one Tumblr post I saw (and lost, someone help me find it!) that noted Mulder requested a helicopter for himself and Scully to, essentially, walk a few street blocks to the next location. Because CC wanted a helicopter in his movie and he was going to get it, somehow, someway.

Below is a tragically long post filled with article links for more enjoyment~.

(**Note**: Will edit this post later, brb.)

TLDR: A movie/tv series worth its salt is well-written, end of story. It doesn't matter how excellent or in-character the themes or motifs or etc. are if the characters are badly written or act out-of-turn. You cannot have a god-tier theme about fighting back the Darkness and seeking for the Truth if at every opportunity the characters themselves reject the message continually in ways that make no sense, especially when they have a history of stellar characterization and well-thought-out opinions and actions. This movie is a prime example of that.

There are numerous blogs here that have already (rightfully) griped about IWTB, so I won't go into plot nonsense or whatnot. But I DO have interviews that show how roughshod the movie making process was before it even hit theatres, so....

I first heard about IWTB's flaws peripherally through this article (that trashes the Revival, highly recommend. Written by a CC fan, too, so it's not a bash-sesh against the Creator.) It spoke endearingly-ish about IWTB, believing it to be more in-character than the Revival (yup.... unfortunately.) Then I started perusing fan opinions... and everyone pretty much agreed it was awful in most parts and shippy in others.

TBH, shippy doesn't mean squat to me. Maybe it's how I'm wired, but I was drawn to The X-Files because the romance is so unspoken with very light kisses. I 100% get Chris Carter's restraint perspective; but I also get the fans' perspective, that it's gone too far to ignore or take back. An example: the movie sets up a "gasp, really??" mystery that Scully is a doctor with a life separate from Mulder, driving over to him to try to get him involved in the FBI manhunt. It's taken back almost immediately when Mulder later springs up beside her in bed, but it's those little touches that start to confuse the message. And then throw in Scully insisting Mulder join the chase while Gillian Anderson acted her completely opposite to what she was saying and you start to see the mess unravel. Then Mulder tosses aside his loyalty to Scully-- something that is KEY to his character, having formerly left his life's work for her and even left his newborn son when she told him to-- to chase the very monsters she begged him to chase but is now begging him not to. There is no reason given other than "It's who I am", which is NOT who Mulder is: he is a man willing to sacrifice who he is and what makes him tick over and over for Scully's sake. This not only breaks his character in-movie, it nullifies all his actions and choices in the original series, stripping them of their consequences and weight.

The movie, I believe, was supposed to be about Mulder and Scully scrabbling against the Darkness while also lost in confusion: they're together but Scully feels threatened by Agent Whitney, Mulder no's the case before getting wrapped up into it, Scully supports then withdraws her support (and LEAVES??), both rely on the word of a pedophile priest (a similar alliance to Luthor Lee Boggs but creepier and less redeemable... and even Boggs wasn't redeemed), and finally Scully casts aside her doubts to get back in the saddle and save Mulder. It seems a compelling story, no? ...No.

An example of the "confusion" theme of the plot: When Mulder meets up with the other agents to discuss terms (I suppose), the camera briefly pans to random people walking past him in the hallway-- one of them is the actress who played his little sister in the OG series; and the camera makes it a point for Mulder to notice that fact... but so briefly and quickly it never made an impression on him permanently, a.k.a. a seeming callback. BUT when Scully yells at him (before? after? I dunno) about always looking for his sister, this is the scene that was supposed to back her up? In which case: dude, we all saw the Samantha Agent. She did, indeed, look like Samantha; and she had NOTHING to do with this case. The only explanation Scully had for her tasteless remark was that she thought Mulder was full-on delusional or so stubborn he was projecting his own demons onto this case. Y'know... the case he didn't want and only got more involved in to SAVE LIVES. In which case, it doesn't fit with the themes of the movie at all: Mulder was right here, Scully was wrong; but the movie stated that SCULLY was right, or at least half-right, and Mulder was at least half-wrong. It's all nonsense.

The dialogue is atrocious. Absolutely appalling. Which makes sense to an extent: CC and Spotnitz had this movie written out right after the series ended as an attempt to gain back the studio's attention. No such luck; and when FOX was finally interested to make more money, the script notes were accidentally lost; so CC and Frank blitzkrieged up a final draft in just a few weeks (very not good.) This and this article breaks down how Spotnitz (in his own words) watched CC battle FOX from the sidelines for the movie, then scramble with him to complete a draft in time for filming; and it explains (but doesn't justify) the stilted dialogue, horrendous pacing issues, and disjointed theme. To summarize:

""Frank Spotnitz: ...The pressure in television is incredible because you’ve got to keep coming up with another script, another script, another script. The movie was completely different. We started work on the story in 2003, and then got derailed for four years by deal-making and the threat of a lawsuit. Then when we returned to it in 2007, we’d lost our notes.

Lost your notes?

Frank Spotnitz: We’d put them on note cards to pitch the studio, and we couldn’t locate them. At first, we were very unhappy, but it ended up being a blessing in disguise. We remembered what the case was about, but the emotional beats, the personal beats between Mulder and Scully, we had to start from scratch, and we had changed.""

Frank Spotnitz claims it was effortless to get back in their characters' heads; and, while that may be true, it was certainly not effortless to put them down on paper.

The messaging of the movie was so confusing that Mark Snow, the composer, didn't read all of it correctly (which is important for the person composing the score for each scene):

""Now the plot of I Want To Believe has characteristically remained a secret – I don’t suppose you can tell us anything about what we can expect from this film?

Well the interesting part was, when I read the script the first thing I got out of it was deep, dark complexity and I spoke to Chris Carter afterwards and he said ‘what do you think?’, I said ‘man, it’s so complex and dark and mysterious’, and he said ‘and it’s a love story with religious overtones…’ Okay! He said ‘just keep that in mind’ and you know I re-read it and I got what he meant, and then seeing the movie I certainly got what he meant. Besides the Mulder and Scully relationship there are some other very very emotional, intimate if you would, moments there that do add spiritual and religious weight to it....""

This article does well at picking apart the claims (some ludicrous) for and against the movie But, for time's sake, let's skip to the summary of the very sloppy (and downright goofy) climax of the movie:

""The biggest shortcoming may be that the case is solved by both Mulder and Scully independently and simultaneously, and thanks to coincidences on both their behalf. Mulder’s investigative skills lead him to the villain thanks to a simple visit to a local store; stem cell research for organ transplants and for curing Christian allow the two storylines to cross, but Scully having a revelation by finding the villain’s research on the internet through a non-related search draws the odds extremely. There is little actual investigation and the case is wrapped up too quickly. All those are little things — but they pile up to too much.""

Both the actors had "notes" and "questions" (read here) about their characters when they first got the script, with Gillian Anderson admitting how hard it was to find her character (post here)--

""Gillian Anderson: I had a similar experience. This feels so weird. Summertime. I didn’t have all the running around that David had to do, but I did have my own unfortunate beginning which was starting with one of the most difficult scenes for Scully in the film where it’s later on in the script and she goes through a range of emotions in confronting Billy Connolly’s character. I just had a really time for those first couple of days that that scene was. I had a really hard time just finding her, finding her voice. I think I must’ve gone through ten other characters in the process of trying to get to her when I had assumed that I would be able to show up on the first day and it would just be there. It wasn’t until I think day three when we got to work together, not just necessarily in a familiar environment which it really wasn’t, but in the environment of each other and the relationship and that it kind of felt natural and familiar and I felt like I’d landed this time."" --

but it was David Duchovny who was surprisingly the most honest to the press about his (measured) thoughts, as he's usually the most reticent. He always wanted to do a movie series, liking the scope and freedom it would give him with acting and scheduling; but he mentioned, once or twice, that he wished IWTB had been a bigger action film in the vein of FTF. Further, he admits to an interviewer about his thoughts and his (slight) dissatisfaction with Mulder's out-of-character element here:

""Since The X-Files: I Want to Believe may not have been the huge blockbuster that everyone was hoping for, we’d like to know: What is your own measure of success for the movie?

Duchovny: I guess it’s always the first time I see the movie. What’s my feeling when I come out? I always felt like the subject matter of this particular movie was limiting. It was dark, and it wasn’t going....

I’ve only seen it one time, and I was sitting in Chris’ editing room. I watched it on a little screen. I guess I missed the chance to see it on the big screen, and that’s too bad, but when I left that initial screening at Chris’ house, the film was pretty much almost done except for some special effects. I just felt like it was really strong and kind of a strangely moving piece of work. Still dark, and still, I thought, limited, but the way that the movie performed did not surprise me so much, and I think that if we do get a chance to do another one … what I always really liked about the show was that it had a dark vision, but at the heart of it being driven by Mulder was this real optimism or wonder or sense of belief, and then it would kind of open out. Most of the best shows that we did would open out into real wonder at the end, if only because you didn’t have an answer, which was the mystery of it, but the wonder.

Mulder’s quest, to me, is a very positive one. If we get a chance to do another one, I think because in this movie Mulder kept getting reinvigorated, Mulder was in a down place for much of this film; he wasn’t driving the way he drives, the way he drove everything before that. In a way, the nature of how we had to get back into the show, which was to take the guy out of his job, also deprived the movie of some optimism and wonder and enlightenment that occurs when you’ve got this unhinged guy trying to prove wonderful crazy things.""

And while DD defended IWTB's box office failings as having to compete against Batman, one of the previous articles I linked had the savvy to tackle that reason and debunk it:

""The defenders of IWTB will endlessly complain about the budget (but look at what a feast Darren Aronofsky did with $35 million: “The Fountain” (2006)), the fact that it’s low-key ‘intellectual’ and not blockbuster-like (so is “There Will Be Blood” (2007), $25 million, and countless other generally agreed upon masterpieces), the lousy promotion (but look at what good word of mouth can do with a movie few believed in in the beginning: “The Matrix” (1999), $65 million), the unforseen success of “The Dark Knight” as competition (hardly an argument) or trends in selfish cinema critics (as if a bad reception is the sole result of a conspiracy).

However what will remain in history is not the whys and hows but the what: the final product itself. And the truth is that if IWTB featured characters other than Mulder and Scully, this would be a not very memorable movie.""

Needless to say: the entire movie's a mess, and it's down to the roots. While beautiful visually and musically-- all the reviews and cast and crew had nothing to say against that-- the characters and the script and the plot were a horrible mishmash that highlighted its weaknesses and smashed down its strengths.

Thanks for giving me the opportunity to ramble; and sorry if this didn't do what you needed! But you did inspire me to find all the old angry IWTB discussions/posts on Tumblr (archive hopping, heheheh) and put them all in one place. So, look forward to that sometime in the future, I suppose~!

Disclaimers: I do not like canon after S8; and that's only because they get a happy ending and, even though it has garbage canon decisions, the characters were able to save most of it and forget the rest. But I will treat IWTB as its own thing devoid of my personal opinion.

#asks #txf #IWTB #thoughts #thank you for sending an ask!#I wanted to take the time to provide scope and scale #I despiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiise IWTB #because it's beautiful and pretty #and so so broken #it's really only “nice” in the shippy moments #because it's just Mulder and Scully banter #but when the plot kicks in they become weird aliens #analysis #mine #meta

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