Part 3 (to be continued.)
(previous)
(AU Masterpost)
This comic is co-written by myself and @hollowavarice !
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Part 3 (to be continued.)
(previous)
(AU Masterpost)
This comic is co-written by myself and @hollowavarice !
Expedition 33 meets the paintress and catches fire - requested by anon
I made .png dividers to represent all the Fear Entities from The Magnus Archives. Yes, I am five years late to this fandom. I didn't do one for Extinction, but the rest are there!
All text was clipped from out-of-copyright digitized sources by me and is unaltered except for minor resizing.
Credit appreciated but not required.
raises hand politely. my girl blorbo sets herself on fire for fun
isnt she cute,,,,,
Sweet 🤘
We like to think that the Spectre would be insanely cruel to the X’s.
Because in our AU, the Spectre has minimal influence over other worlds, given that the X’s, which were from the human world where Roblox is simply a game, have been Forsakened.
We feel bad about writing this death for them, but the Spectre was able to do something that caused a fire. In the chaos, the X siblings died together.
They have a shared skin called “Burn”.
sword of damocles (aka sigurd's no good very bad day)
@nagamas gift for @dt75artblog !!! fullview please
How about D1 for diluc please??
“This hurts me more than it hurts you.”
cw: yandere behaviour, physical abuse, burning, diluc being mean but thinking he’s being kind, reader wears a nightgown but no pronouns or gendered terms are used.
Diluc's grip on your wrist is bruising. You can feel heat sizzling beneath his gloves, his palms searing - and you have to be grateful, then, for the little barrier the fabric provides, for if it were not in place . . . you're certain your wrists would be burning as well.
Your legs are covered all over with thorn pinpricks and cuts from brambles and vines; your nightwear (there had not been time for any dressing more appropriate) charred through in places from the convention of electro and pyro slimes you had accidentally stumbled across. The same slimes that Diluc had slew without a second thought; without having to exert more than a few beads of sweat upon his proud forehead.
You keep your mouth pressed in a tight line, mulish; after everything else, you will not give Diluc the satisfaction of tears, or begging. No doubt he would only wipe those tears from your eyes with his thumb and a look of terrible guilt on his face. No doubt he would only coo at you softly and murmur quiet hushings and reassure you that this is all for your own good - all the while locking another door, breaking down another escape route.
You're pulled through the house; your bare feet (this particular escape attempt had not left you enough time to put on shoes, though the luxurious soft slippers that Diluc allows you to wear in the house would have afforded little protection anyway) sinking into the soft pile of the carpet. You must be smearing mud everywhere, and Adelinde will not thank you for that - but you had not intended to be caught.
He pauses at the entrance to the guest room he has been keeping you in at Dawn Winery.
"Aren't you going to lock me in again?" You ask him, tasting bitterness on your tongue - but Diluc merely shoots you a look like a wounded animal.
"I can't trust you," he says, so softly you barely hear him, his voice low and soft. "I . . . I wanted to. I wanted to be a good man for you. I wanted you to feel safe. But every time you stumble into trouble_ on purpose_."
He does not let go of your wrist. Your heart skips a beat as he stands there, his jaw set, as he mulls over whatever decision he is about to make. You do not stumble into trouble on purpose, of course - any more than you'd stumbled into Diluc on purpose, that first time that had set course for so much of the rest of your life. You'd stumbled out of Dawn Winery on purpose, but only so you could be rid of the Winery owner and his burning crimson eyes and his hot whispers of how much he loved you and how safe he was going to keep you against your ear.
"Diluc?" You ask, hating how your voice pitches on the second syllable. He nods to himself, and then drags your wrist roughly down the hallway.
Towards his own bedroom.
"I'll have Adelinde move your things," he says, without looking back. "You can't be trusted alone. You'll bathe with me from now on. I'll bring you into my study when I work and Adelinde will be with you whenever I'm not, I'll have to take on another maid but it's worth it for your safety--"
"My safety?" Your voice rises in panic. You're not strong enough to shake him off, but you try and dig your heels in even so. "With _you _sleeping next to me, Master Diluc? With you by my side constantly, when you can barely stop yourself undressing me with your eyes when you come into my room to say goodnight already?"
A flush rises to his cheeks, but he pulls you along even so, until his oaken door is before you and he's pulling you inside into his inner sanctum. The blush does nothing to assuage the white-hot fear and anger roiling in your stomach - in fact, it just makes it worse. How dare he act so flippant? Like he is a man with a crush, and not a kidnapper, not a monster?
"I won't," you tell him, tearful (when did tears spring to your eyes? You suppose they must have started around the same time the hot burn of fear made a home in your throat). "I won't, Diluc!" The fingers of your other hand fasten helplessly around the door frame.
Diluc heaves a soft sigh, and turns. Slowly and deliberately, he raises the hand not currently ringed about your wrist to his mouth, tugging on the fabric with his teeth.
"This hurts me more than it will hurt you," he says, very softly and regretfully - and you realise with a whimper what he's going to do, as he grabs your other wrist and his bare palm collides with the soft, tender skin. A scalding heat rises where flesh meets flesh, a sickening sizzle and pop - and you are dragged bodily into the room and allowed to stumble away from him, hiccuping out pained noises, until you collapse by his bedframe on your knees in your poor stained nightgown.
Diluc closes the door silently. He turns the key in its lock and removes it with a click, dropping it into his pocket - but he remains silent. He removes his other glove and places it on his dressing table, and still he says not a word.
And then, he drops to his knees in front of you.
"Y-you're disgusting," you whimper out, cradling your poor burnt wrist in your other hand. Diluc won't allow it to get too bad, but right now you do not want to give him the satisfaction of asking for aftercare either. "Y-you know I won't stop trying to get away from you, don't you?"
Diluc's gaze is so, so sad as he looks at you - a man who has had too much put upon his shoulders. In another lifetime, in another world, perhaps you would feel sorry for him.
But not in this one.
"Darling," he says to you. "Angel. Beloved. You know I can't let that happen. You know I would go to the ends of Teyvat to keep you safe, don't you?" You swallow back more bubbling sobs, your chest heaving. "But . . . Ah. I didn't want to have to do it. It hurts me to hurt you, angel. But if it is to keep you safe . . ." A small, sad smile pulls at his lovely mouth.
And as he reaches down towards your bare feet and ankles - his vision at his hip pulsing to life and his palms bared - all you can do is scream.
Shiny Leaves and Apple Cider
Dabihawks au//Single Dad Hawks//Cw: fire, being burned alive, depression, chronic pain, mentioned death
Thursday night. A living room full of tall, cream-colored candles on every free surface they have. Two half-empty mason jars full of spiked apple cider precariously sitting toward the edge of the coffee table, long forgotten in favor of slow dancing to a beaten-up record Keigo found at the thrift store one day after work.
Touya's hands wrapped firmly around Keigo's waist, chin resting atop his head. Keigo's ear pressed closely to the center of his broad chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.
They sway slowly together, gently swinging back and forth, back and forth, soaking each other in. Keigo keeps a firm grip on Touya's shirt as they waltz around the living room. Keigo sighs dreamily and nuzzles his face further into Touya's chest. Touya chuckles.
"What's that for, Birdie?" He asks, running a hand up Keigo's back.
Keigo shrugs, "Nothing. Just love you is all."
"Oh, really now?"
"Yup," Keigo replies, popping the p. He turns his head up to meet his shiny, turquoise eyes, "you love me?"
Touya smirks, his eyes going up to the ceiling, "I dunno. I'll have to think about that."
Keigo pinches his side, "Touya!"
Touya snickers, "Kidding! Kidding!"
He turns his head down and pecks a kiss on Keigo's forehead. "I love you, Baby Bird."
Keigo closes his eyes and hums, "Damn right you do."
"Damn right, I do," Touya parrots.
Keigo chuckles, focusing back on Touya's heartbeat. It's the first thing he wakes up to and the last thing he hears when he falls asleep. It's the only way he can fall asleep. He can't remember the last time he slept without feeling the drum of his heart against his face, or without Touya in general. He can’t think of a time when he didn’t have Touya right beside him, right in his arms and molded together.
But something's… off
It’s hot.
No, it’s not just hot. It’s boiling. Scalding. It burns.
Everything about Touya burns Keigo’s skin. He has difficulty prying himself away from his chest because it feels like he’s melted into him.
“Touya, you’re hot–”
“I know,” Touya replies, voice warbling like radio static.
Keigo shakes his head. He finally manages to rip his face away from
Touya’s scalding chest and stumbles back. “No, Touya. You’re actually hot, what–?”
The question dies in his throat as he watches Touya’s entire body erupt into blue flames. They rip away his flesh and bone until he disappears into ash without a second thought.
“Touya!” Keigo screams.
The flames crawl across the floor and up Keigo’s legs. It isn’t long before the entire house is saturated in blue flames. Keigo rips off his denim jacket and smacks it at the fire but it refuses to go out. It runs further up his body, scorching his midsection, and ripping apart his chest until it finally crawls up his throat, and suffocates him.
*•.🍁.•*
Keigo’s drenched in sweat, which isn’t surprising once he realizes that he’s fallen asleep on his heating pad – which is currently at the highest setting. His heart thunders in his ears, but once the blurriness fades and his brain stops swimming, he manages to take a breath. He sighs, peeling himself from the bed. The clock on the opposite wall reads 3:30 in the afternoon – shit – and the room is already starting to develop an orange tint.
“Fuck,” he hisses through gritted teeth.
He peels back the heavy blankets. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and he…sits there for a few seconds. He scans the room. It’s cleaner than it usually is this time of day, so he’s at least done something today. He closes his eyes, draws a slow breath through his nose to asses how much pain he’s in today, and once he’s decided that he could give less of a fuck, he stands.
He switches off the heating pad and starts out the room to the hallway.
Suzume’s probably in her room, most likely surviving off either leftovers in the fridge or snacks she can reach on the bottom shelf – if she’s remembered to eat at all that is, an unfortunate trait she inherited from him.
He’ll just make instant ramen or pasta or something easy and if she hasn’t eaten herself sick on sweets, they’ll have the Neapolitan ice cream they’ve had stuck in the freezer for the past two months.
He comes up to her door and knocks, “Su! I’m up. You hungry?”
No response. Keigo raises a brow.
‘Maybe she’s asleep?’ He thinks, then knocks again.
“Suzume! You okay in there?”
Still no response.
He goes to open it. “Suzume?”
The 7-year-old’s room is completely empty. He looks around the door to see if she’s hiding behind it. He walks inside and looks under her bed and in her closet.
Still no Suzume.
Keigo’s heart rate kicks back up. He starts out of her room and down the hallway, opening every door on the second floor while urgently calling her name.
“Suzume? Suzume! Where are you?”
He opens every cabinet, checks every nook and cranny that Suzume can possibly fit in, but he comes up empty. He starts running when he heads downstairs. From there, he starts yelling.
“Suzume!” he shouts as he turns over the cushions on the couch and races into the laundry room and kitchen, “Suzume!”
He throws open the backdoor. He spots a head of blonde hair past the treeline of their backyard. He races across the grass, blood gushing in his ears. He finds her crouched under a massive tree, rooting through the pile of fallen leaves with dirt-covered hands.
He’s finally able to breathe, “Suzume!”
She whips her head around and greets him with an unassuming grin, “Hi papa!”
He falls to his knees and scoops her into a hug, “Thank god you’re safe! What are you doing out here by yourself?”
“I was getting pretty leaves for Daddy!” she exclaims, holding the pile up to him.
Keigo frowns, “Suzume, I told you not to go outside by yourself – especially when I’m asleep and when it’s past the trees. It’s not safe.”
Suzume’s smile falls along with her eyes, “ ‘m sorry…”
Keigo sighs through his nose, “Just…let’s go inside and get you cleaned up, okay?”
She nods, bottom lip trembling.
He picks her up, watching as her hands start letting go of the pile in her palms. He cups her hands and brings them back toward her. “Keep ‘em. We’ll wash those too.”
She doesn’t reply to that. He walks them back inside, immediately setting Suzume down by the sink. He grabs a salad bowl from the top shelf and motions for Suzume to dump the leaves inside. She does. He sets the bowl aside, gently takes her hands in his, and moves them toward the sink.
She keeps her eyes down and stays quiet as he washes her hands. He works his hand under her fingernails. His eyes occasionally flicker from her hands to her face, her eyes darting away each time he does. He finishes up, shuts off the water, and cups her face in his hands.
“Hey, can you look at me for a sec?”
Her eyes flicker up at him.
“I’m not angry, okay? I was just scared because I couldn’t find you. I thought something bad happened to you.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles.
“I know, Chickadee. Just please don’t do it again. If you wanna go outside, just wait or wake me up and ask me, yeah?”
She nods.
He smiles, pecking a kiss to the top of her head. “We’re okay, Su. We’re okay.”
“We’re okay,” Suzume parrots in a much happier tone of voice.
Keigo nods, “So, you wanna tell me about the leaves?”
Her beaming grin is back, “Ochaco and Tsu-chan said they can make a pretty flower bow… bow–”
“Bouquet?”
“Yeah, that thing! They said they could make one of those with pretty leaves so I wanted to find some that Daddy would like so I could make one with them!”
He tips the bowl toward him, looking at the collection. Leaves in different shades and gradients ranging from spring green to honey orange fill up the bottom alongside a collection of twigs and dirt, like the stuff Keigo and Touya used to play with when they made forts at school.
He smiles warmly, “Your dad’ll love these. He always liked fall.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. But that’s only because fall meant we were closer to winter break.”
Suzume giggles. Keigo’s eyes travel back down to the bowl, settling on a bright red leaf peaking through some of the brown ones.
“Hey, Su. Have you ever tried apple cider?”
Suzume searches the ceiling for an answer, shaking her head when she can’t find it, “I don’t think so.”
“You want me to teach you how to make it?”
Suzume’s smile shines as she hops down from the kitchen counter.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Grab me a pot, yeah? The biggest one you can find!”
She nods, running to the opposite side of the kitchen to grab one of the pots in the lower cabinets while he grabs the ingredients that are surprisingly unspoiled (and there. He really needs to go shopping).
Suzume drags the pot and her step stool toward the stove, “Got it!”
“Good,” he reaches down and sets it down on the stove, “I’ll take care of this. Can you wash those apples for me?”
“Okay!”
Suzume happily takes her task while he boils the water. He lets her dump in all the spices and carefully teaches her how to cut up the apples with her dull, plastic knives and dump them in as well. She does it all with a shining smile.
With his shining smile.
When it’s done, he grabs the mason jars from the top shelf and fills them with cider. He doesn’t give Suzume too much since he isn’t too sure she’ll like it despite her excitement about making it. He gives her his glass while he drinks from Touya’s.
“Careful,” he says as he carefully hands it to her.
She looks down at the dark liquid with wide eyes, “Ooh.”
“Cheers,” he says, clinking their glasses together. He holds it up to his lips, watching as Suzume grabs the jar with both of her little hands and drinks from it, “Careful.”
She starts to take a sip, brows raising in surprise before she chugs it down in one go.
Keigo laughs, “You like it, huh?”
She nods happily.
“You want a little more?”
“I want a lot more!”
“Okay, okay. But I’m not gonna give you too much. Don’t want you spoiling your…?”
“Dinner!”
“Dinner. Right,” So she did eat. Good, “What do you want for dinner?”
“Chicken!”
Keigo smiles, “That’s my girl.”
He reaches across the table and grabs her jar. He goes back to the pot, starts to fill her glass with cider while humming.
“Papa?”
“Yeah, Suzu?”
“Did Daddy like cider too?”
“Yeah. He loved the stuff.”
“Should we bring him some the next time we go to see him?”
Keigo stops, a small but fond smile playing across his lips. He pours the glass and turns back to her, “Sure, baby. We can see him after you make your little flower bouquet. This stuff lasts a while.”
*•.🍁.•*
“Hey, Dabi – woah, are you cooking?”
Dabi rolls his eyes as he slowly stirs the pot of apples and allspice. “No, I’m fucking fishing. Haven’t caught a bite all day.”
Toga skips over to him, looking over his shoulder as he continues to stir, “Is that…cider?”
“Is this ask me stupid questions day or somethin’?”
“Geez, don’t get so hotheaded,” she replies with a grin, “I just didn’t peg you as the kind of guy who’d be into this kind of stuff. Always pictured you more as a hard liquor only guy.”
Dabi stops for a second, staring down at his scarred reflection in the amber liquid. He clicks his tongue and continues on. “Yeah, well –’tis the season, I guess. You gonna want some of this?”
Toga pouts, “Dang. I wanna but the Boss wants me on a job right now.”
“That’s fine. You can have some when you get back,” he pauses, catching another glimpse of himself in the cider, “This stuff lasts awhile anyways.”