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@timetoeatthebread-blog
Hello!
Some people call me Toast or Bread, or LovingCupcake. Anything is fine! I'm currently in my 20s and I usually dip my toes in a big amount of fandoms.
Below under the cut you'll find a list of tags and links to my fanfiction that I've written so far 💜.
Asks and requests are open - I currently have one ask I'm working on.
Heartsteel headcanons with a child [1]
Aphelios x Reader - Dreaming of You. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]
Heartsteel with a missing teen [Kayn]
Milo x F!Reader - Red Tulip. [1]
LADS x F!Reader - Echoes of Stardust [Intro] [1] [2] [3] [4]
i love to see people who are like "you can talk about csa but not around minors that's gross!" like idk how to tell you this but. who do you think is getting csa'd. i'll give you a hint: the first letter in csa does not stand for "adult"
One of my college professors, in a queer lit class actually, spent an entire class on the following argument:
“Push by Sapphire is children's literature. Prove me wrong.”
(Context if you're not familiar with the book and why this was an extremely provocative thing to say)
OP's point was exactly the bulk of my professor's argument. And imho my professor was right. Millions of children have to live through this shit every year. And I just remember my professor posing undergrads (some of them very indignant or offended about this line of argument) the question:
"So they have to live through it, but they're not allowed to read about it?"
Or, as the professor clarified, "So they have to live through it, but don't get to have access to the words and information they need to understand and process what's happening to them? They information they need to know that this is wrong, and telling the right person can (hopefully) save them from more of it?"
A lot of people tried to argue, "Well, okay then, kids who have had to live through that can read those books, but only those kids, it's not appropriate for kids who don't already know or have trauma about it."
But there is no way to reliably or completely separate out those two groups. After all, if there was, cases of csa wouldn't almost all go undetected or unpunished.
If you don't talk about csa to or in front of children, you drastically reduce children's ability to tell you when they're victims of it.
And gotta say, I spent a lot of the time sitting in that lecture (2016) thinking if a lot of tumblr users had to sit through it, they'd probably explode - and that's something to work on, if you relate to that response, because we need to be able to have these conversations - because when I say "think of the children!" I for once mean it unironically.
The Echoes of Stardust
Chapter 4 - Eternaland
When you woke up, Rafayel was still glued to your side, his fingers still loosely wrapped around yours. You detached yourself from him as quietly and carefully as possible. The ambers in the fireplace have long died out, and the room didn’t feel as warm anymore. Something felt wrong, it always did whenever the developers of the game added an update, and you supposed it’s been enough time for another one.
You went to the only place you knew where you could find potential answers - the Eternaland. Your very own pocket of rift space. No-one ever came to visit, the only inhabitant being Mitsuko, really.
A door appeared in front of you and you went through, disappearing without a word. You hoped it didn’t take too long and that Rafayel wouldn’t be too worried.
The door dissolved behind you with a soft chime, and Eternaland welcomed you back into its serenity.
The sky was still impossibly blue. The lake reflected the mountains without distortion. The grass bent gently in a wind that didn’t exist anywhere else. But the longer you stood there, the more the feeling crept in - you summed it up as your anxiety.
Your system window flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then stabilized, as if nothing had happened.
You frowned and started walking toward the lake anyway. Mitsuko was already waiting. You didn’t hesitate to call out to her and she greeted you with a smile. Black hair and a white dress, shackles on her ankles. But most noticeably - two white butterflies on the right side of her face, covering her eye.
“It’s you. I missed you.”
“I… Missed you too. Has it been peaceful?” You asked.
“I felt fluctuations in the riftspace. The law of this world has changed.” Worry laced Mitsuko’s voice.
It did make you more anxious. You pressed her for more information.
“New abominations have entered the riftspace. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”
“It’s okay. You’re doing what you can. I am grateful for your help.” You assured her. Not wanting to press more, you brought up a more cheerful topic - you meeting Rafayel and helping him adjust. She seemed happy about the news.
“Remember, Eternaland and I will always be there with you,” She summoned a door in front of you. “Some worlds flow like dreams, some are locked in ice, and some are governed by strange laws. Please, stay safe.”
You hummed in agreement and looked at her for a second longer, then back to the door. Getting ready to leave, you barely managed to take two steps before the air around the door warped and started glitching, changing color from blue to red.
Then the distortion folded in on itself, space compressing with a low, humming sound that vibrated against your bones. The grass beneath it blackened, curling inward.
“Great. Amazing. Just spectacular,” you muttered under your breath, already reaching for your weapon.
An anomaly. Inside Eternaland. That alone was enough to make your brain go into overdrive.
The rift - or more specifically the door - tore open fully a second later.
Not wide. Not dramatic. Just enough to let something step through.
A man emerged from the distortion like he belonged there.
Tall. Relaxed. Dressed far too neatly for someone who’d just crossed unstable riftspace. His coat settled around him as the door sealed shut behind his back, the air snapping closed with a similar chime sound.
He glanced around, eyes sharp and assessing, then smiled faintly. Almost teasing.
“Well,” he said, voice smooth, low and unhurried. “This is new.”
Your weapon was already raised. “Don’t move,” you ordered.
His gaze slid from your gun to your face, curiosity brightening just a touch. Recognition flashed across his face, soon changing into satisfaction.
“This space is sealed.” You exclaimed.
“Was,” he corrected lightly. “Past tense.”
The system window flickered again.
Red text scrolled across the edge of your vision before vanishing entirely.
The man noticed. Of course he did. But you paid it no attention. You had more pressing matters.
Your grip tightened. “Who are you?”
He considered the question like it amused him.
“Sylus,” he said at last. Like it was supposed to explain everything.
“Well, Mr. Sylus,” You said sarcastically. “You’re not supposed to be here. You’re an intruder.”
“I would have preferred an unexpected variable.”
You let out a humorless breath. “That’s not better.”
Mitsuko had gone completely still behind you. The butterflies on her face fluttered once, twice. Observing. Assessing.
Sylus’s gaze flicked past you, briefly landing on her.
“Ah,” he said, intrigued. “An interesting evol.”
Behind you, Mitsuko finally spoke. Her voice was softer than usual, clearly uneasy. “This one does not belong to the flow of this world.”
Recognition flashed in Sylus’ eyes. “No,” He said. “I don’t.”
His attention returned to you, expression smoothing out again. “But neither do you. Not really.”
Your fingers flexed around the grip of your weapon. Lips flat. Still tense and ready to act. You didn’t answer.
“There’s a layer beneath riftspace,” Sylus said, stopping just out of arm’s reach. “A deeper one. It connects places that were never meant to touch.”
He leaned in slightly. “I followed that layer here.”
“And why?” you asked.
“Curiosity,” he said. Then, after a pause, “And confirmation.”
Your jaw tightened. “Of what.”
Sylus straightened his posture, hands slipping into the pockets of his pants as if the situation had never been hostile to begin with. The ease of the movement irritated you more than outright aggression would have.
Mitsuko inhaled sharply, stopping him before he could say anything else.
“You tamper with forces you do not understand,” she said, warning threaded through every syllable.
Sylus glanced at her again, thoughtful. Smug. “On the contrary. I understand them very well.” His gaze returned to you. “Especially what caused this to happen in the first place.”
“Lucky me,” you muttered. But you understood the weight of his words. The meaning behind it.
A corner of his mouth twitched. “This space…looks like you didn’t build it the way it was intended to. You didn’t even notice you were doing it.” His eyes traced over your face. “You gave it autonomy. Anchors. Memory.”
You said nothing. You refused to give him the satisfaction.
“That’s why it let me in,” Sylus continued. “Not because I forced it.” He tapped his chest lightly. “But because something in here answered back.”
You raised your weapon a fraction higher. “If this is your way of asking for permission to keep coming back, you’re doing a terrible job.”
Sylus laughed softly. Not mocking. Almost genuine. “I’m not asking,” he said. “I already got what I came for.”
Your heart skipped. “Which is?”
“Relax,” he said quietly. “I won’t tear this place apart.” A pause. “I like it too much.”
That didn’t help.
“One piece of advice,” Sylus added, eyes never leaving yours. “It’s only a matter of time before others follow.”
“And when that happens,” he finished, “you’ll want to know who else can walk between the layers.”
Mitsuko shifted beside you, the chains at her ankles chiming softly. “Leave,” she said again, firmer this time. “This world rejects you.”
Sylus exhaled through his nose, almost fond. “It doesn’t,” he corrected. “It’s just not used to being answered.”
Sylus straightened, rolling his shoulders once, as if settling into a decision rather than leaving one behind.
“I should go,” he said.
Your muscles didn’t relax. Neither did Mitsuko’s.
“But not far.”
Your eyes narrowed. “That’s not leaving.”
A faint smile curved his mouth, restrained this time. Measured. “No,” he agreed easily. “It isn’t.”
The door of the riftspace opened, and Sylus took a step towards it. He looked behind his shoulder, straight at you. It was so intense you felt something creep along your neck, spreading all the way to your back.
“I’ll be around,” he said lightly. “Try not to be surprised when we meet again.” He stepped through the door, and it closed softly behind him.
The pressure lifted all at once.
You lowered your weapon slowly, pulse loud in your ears.
Beside you, Mitsuko exhaled, butterflies finally settling. “…He will return.”
You stared at the place Sylus had stood, jaw tight.
“I know,” you said. “I just hope it won’t be here.”
Your tense muscles relaxed and you put your weapon away. “I should go as well. Stay safe, and if anything happens, run. I don’t want you fighting him and getting yourself in danger.”
Now it was your turn to go towards the door. Familiar and wrong all at once, and you stepped through before doubt could catch up to you. Eternaland vanished behind you without a warning.
Warmth hit you first.
Your room.
And Rafayel - he was already awake. Almost angry. And somehow a part of you felt guilty even though you’re not obligated to tell him anything.
He was sitting on the edge of the sofa, just like yesterday. Except this time, he was sitting with his legs crossed and hands - elegant as ever - were gracefully placed on top of his lap.
His eyes snapped to you the instant you reappeared.
“…You disappeared,” he said. Just a statement, threaded with something carefully restrained. “Where were you?” Almost accusatory, as much as he tried to hide it.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” you replied, voice quieter than you intended.
“You were gone for a long time. Do you know what time it is? It’s evening. You’ve been gone the whole day, and you didn’t even say anything.”
You sat down next to him, almost as if you were trying to calm down a child. But silence settled between the two of you. The world outside remained blissfully unaware of the situation at hand.
Rafayel leaned closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “You don’t have to tell me everything,” he said, quietly. “But don’t lie to me. And don’t leave me without a word.”
You turned your head just enough to meet his eyes.
“I won’t,” you promised.
It wasn’t the whole truth.
Rafayel exhaled and rested his forehead briefly against your temple, eyes closing. “Next time,” he murmured, “Wake me.”
Your heart twisted. Heartbeat sped up. You played with his hair.
“Next time,” you echoed softly.
He reached up without looking and caught your wrist gently, grounding the motion of your fingers where they tangled in his hair. The fire had been rebuilt at some point and the room felt warmer. Rafayel’s thumb traced a slow, absent circle against your wrist.
“You feel… off,” he said after a moment. Not accusing. Observant.
“Just tired.” It came out a bit too quickly. You were getting ready to get up before he stopped you, just like the night before.
“Stay,” he murmured. “At least until you stop looking like you’re halfway somewhere else.”
You didn’t argue.
Sylus said the others would follow. It made your anxiety spike. It’s been a while since anything happened. Anything out of the ordinary for this world. The lack of familiarity made everything feel scarier.
You didn’t know who the others were. If they were dangerous. What their intentions were. But you had to stay on your toes and try to prepare the best you can to face them head on.
The Echoes of Stardust
Chapter 3 - The little mermaid
After Rafayel learned how to use the system window, things became surprisingly easy. He soaked up all the information, making his own base and crafting his own supplies. There was one thing that took a bit of time, however, and that was his choice of weapon. You made it clear that some bosses and monsters just have to be killed using guns or crossbows. Not because they won’t take damage, but because otherwise you waste more time and risk getting injured more often than not. There were some flying enemies he didn’t encounter yet and those especially were easier to defeat using guns than any melee weapon.
After trying out some weapons and explaining the different builds to him, he decided on a power surge build. Not something you expected, to be honest. Compared to you creating explosions with your gun, he would shock the enemies with electricity. Nevertheless you approved of his choice of weapon. The crossbow was securely attached on his back, and the ammo was in his inventory.
At that point, it had been a few days since you’d so graciously taken in the stray, and during the past few days you forced yourself to push through and finish your house as well as the setup for the remainder of the future phases. Now, it was way bigger, with space to accommodate both of you. As well as your other essentials, like kitchen, two bathrooms, two bedrooms as well as a production room and a storage room. Including a big garden outside the house, with all the plants and food you could need for both survival and fights.
And now, with all the preparation done, phase two was here. And with it more options opened up before both of you. There were more dangers, but also equally big rewards. The whole map unlocked and you guys could roam freely. Rafayel became quite independent, but he would still follow you around on most of your errands. He would keep a watchful eye on your form whenever you guys fought the enemies, but he quickly realized just how strong you were. Just this once, this version of you - was way stronger than the one he knew back home. That’s not to say the you from his universe was weak by any means - he was simply stronger than you.
That’s precisely what made him feel powerless, even. You - all leveled up and geared up in the highest gear - one-shotting the enemies. No normal deviant could hurt you. As soon as phase two came up, you immediately dragged him with you to level up in one of the monoliths - the Treant. A big, deviated tree fused with a human body. You were not above abusing the game’s mechanics in any way you remembered. In less than two days, both of you were max level and were set until the end of the scenario.
It didn’t help that after the somewhat intimate situation in the room, you’ve seemed to keep your distance. You were still kind and helpful to him, but you made it clear with your actions instead of words that you don’t plan on nurturing the new relationship. You kept it strictly as acquaintances. And it only deepened the ache in his chest whenever he looked at you.
Until one day, in the middle of the night, you came out of your room. For what - he wasn’t sure. But it was like you knew he was wide awake and that his insomnia was kicking his ass all over again. You sat down next to him, pulling your blanket closer to your body as the nightly chill brushed past both of you. Your feet were dangling off the balcony through the gaps between the bars, and you cranked your head to look at him. The moon illuminating your face was enough to keep stealing glances at you and Rafayel could only wish he had a sketchbook on him.
“Can’t sleep?”
A simple question, but he could only hum in agreement and bring his head closer to the fence of the balcony, cooling his cheek against the surface. He closed his eyes. Soaking in the feeling of the cold metal, he took a deep breath and exhaled. “Just my typical insomnia, don’t worry about it.” It came off a bit more tired than he intended.
You were musing and mulling over it like it was the greatest misery you ever had to solve. You joined him in closing your eyes. Enjoying the nightly air and getting accustomed to the temperature already, you shook off your blanket. Instead, you put it over his shoulders.
“You know, I used to read to someone in the past. It was so long ago I can’t remember them anymore, but somehow I remember reading out loud to somebody very, very important to me. I guess I am just rambling, but you can guess where I’m going with this. Do you want me to read to you? I have quite the collection of books in my bedroom. Plus out of the two of us, only my place has a fireplace and a couch next to it.”
Rafayel didn’t answer immediately. The blanket around his shoulders still carried your warmth, and for a moment that alone was enough to make his throat close. He opened his eyes and looked at you, how the moonlight softened the sharpness of your features. Your tone was more factual, as if you were stating a fact about yourself from your past that no longer mattered. But even now, your answer felt careful. Hesitant. But it still carried the care you always somehow showed, even when you seemed cold.
“... Only if you’re sure. I don’t want to take up your time, Cutie.”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I was against it. Follow me.”
It was more of an order than a request. One that he followed as his lower stomach clenched. He was nervous. Still tired, but also a bit happy. Any attention and affection from you the past few days felt like something limited. Like a resource that had to be counted and rationed. But he’ll take any crumbs he’ll get. As long as you don’t completely leave him.
The walk to your room was quiet. The floor doesn’t make any sound, the only audible sound being the sound of your breathing and footsteps. Followed by the sound of you opening the door. Warmth spilled out immediately as you pushed forward, while Rafayel stood by the doorway. You moved to the fireplace, checking on the embers, poking it a little bit and adding some wood. Looking back, you noticed that Rafayel was still waiting by the doorway. Almost like there was a barrier in front of him. Hesitant. Uncertain.
“You can come in, you know. Sit on the couch and make yourself comfortable.” You scolded him gently like a worried mother. And he couldn’t help but listen to your instructions as he sat down on the far end of the sofa. You didn’t miss a beat as you observed him and only when he sat down, did you go to the shelf to pick a book.
“Any preferences?” you asked. “Adventure, history, fiction… something boring enough to knock you out?”
A ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth. “Surprise me.”
You nodded, like that answer mattered more than it probably should have, and began to read.
Your voice was slow and deliberate. No unnecessary dramatic effects. Just calm and steady reading. Somewhere along the line you moved from standing by the shelf to sitting down on the same sofa as him, sitting on the other far end.
Rafayel adjusted as he made himself more comfortable. He brought the blanket even closer, and your scent welcomed him. It was calming, comforting and familiar. Rafayel leaned back and looked at the ceiling, then to the fireplace. It didn’t take long for him to look at you. His favorite view. The familiarity he never wished to lose. The sound of your voice, your presence. It was everything to him.
As ironic as it was, you picked The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen. It didn’t take him long to realize that mermaids were basically Lemurians, although there were some inconsistencies. He racked it up to humans not knowing much about Lemurians, as much as they were obsessed with them. The more he listened the more he grimaced, a deep feeling of disappointment and hatred reigniting in his heart. But he kept himself calm and collected as you read the story until the very end.
“It’s one of the more sad stories I have from my world. It’s a sad story, but I’m happy that the little mermaid got her wish granted to her in the end. She sacrificed a lot and deserved a happy ending, even if it wasn’t with the love of her life.” You pondered for a bit longer, suddenly remembering something about yourself.
“Back when I was young, I really wanted to be a mermaid,” You chuckled a bit at that before continuing, “I was a very gullible child, believing in dragons, fairies, mermaids. I even tried those mermaid rituals on YouTube to turn myself into one. It never worked, obviously. But I liked the idea of freely roaming the sea. Not worrying about anything. Exploring the wonderful wonders of the world.”
Rafayel covered his eyes with his arm as he closed his eyes. That was another clue. Even if your memories were wiped, you surely would have known about Lemurians and other beings in his world. Should he reveal more about his world? He never specified being from a different world from yours. But he was willing to tell a little bit, hoping to make you maybe remember something more. He tried to cover his true expression with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You as a mermaid, Cutie? I wasn’t expecting that. I guess we might have a bit more similarities than I expected,” He said with a teasing voice, already picturing you with a tail, all the seashells and pearls in your hair. “I’m sure you would have been the prettiest of them all.”
You gave him one of your rare chuckles. Not dry or condescending. It was genuine. “Thank you, I’m sure the younger me would have been very happy to hear that.”
There was a pause between the two of you, where both of you looked at each other. But you saw it, the way he held in his breath for a while longer, how his tongue pressed against his teeth. The way he grabbed the blanket closer, playing with the edge.
“And what if mermaids were real, what would you have done?”
“If they existed, I would have hoped they remained hidden. The world is cruel and I don’t think they would have been safe.” Well, at least you were self-aware of human nature, compared to other humans. It did give Rafayel a sense of validation. His shoulders, that he didn’t know were tense, relaxed and he stopped playing with the blanket. Maybe he really could tell you a bit more.
Rafayel lowered his arm from his eyes, blinking slowly as if waking from something deeper than sleep. The fire crackled softly, the book resting forgotten in your hands.
You glanced at him. “The Little Mermaid?”
“Mm.” He shifted on the couch, adjusting the blanket. “Not because it’s sad. Sad stories are honest, at least.” A pause. “It’s the way she had to give everything up just to exist in a world that wasn’t made for her.”
“In my world,” He licked his lips before continuing. “Lemurians exist. Living under the sea. Being hunted by humans.” A dry, almost resentful chuckle left his lips, “So I guess you were correct in saying that it wouldn’t be safe for them.”
Your lips fell into a flat line. Looking into his eyes, dark with unreadable emotion. You could tell it was a mix of negative emotions, like it was at the tip of your tongue. “That’s terrible. I hope that it will get better in the future.” You almost cursed yourself for how you sounded so clinical.
You itched a bit closer to him, at that point both of you were sitting upright. “I’ll pick a different story, okay? Something more boring. Like history books.” You didn’t wait for him to answer before you quickly got up, already on your way to the bookshelf.
But Rafayel grabbed your hand before you could go and grab another book. “You don’t have to. Just… Stay for a bit. Keep me company.” And for once, you were the one who followed his orders. You sat back down, even closer than before. His hand dragged you closer before he put his head on your shoulders and you tensed up and held your breath. The proximity was making your heartbeat speed up.
Rafayel’s elegant fingers moved swiftly from your arm to your wrist, tracing his fingers along the skin as he intertwined his fingers with yours. He didn’t speak after that. And neither did you. The cracking of the fireplace seemed louder than before now that the room was quiet. You stared up at the ceiling and then at the fireplace.
Somewhere along the line, your heart stopped racing and began to match his. Rafayel’s breathing grew heavier and slower. The tension in his body that you didn’t realize he had started to leave his body as well. His fingers slackened slightly around yours, still holding on even as sleep claimed him. His lashes rested against his cheeks, expression unguarded, almost fragile in the light.
You wanted to move. But something in the way he reacted earlier made you feel bad. So you stayed. You adjusted your position and made yourself more comfortable.
You tilted your head just enough for your temple to rest against his hair, eyes closing despite yourself. Just for a moment, you told yourself. Just until he was fully asleep.
Somewhere along the line you didn’t realize that your eyelids were also growing heavy.
The Echoes of Stardust
Chapter 2 - Make sense of the madness
Rafayel gawked at the sight in front of him. The person in front of him reminded him so, so much of the person back home - you were basically a carbon copy of yourself from his world. But your character was completely different. Colder, dominating. Calculating.
The lack of the usual, softer and teasing personality gave him whiplash. It was like somebody threw a bucket of ice-cold water at him. He never imagined your soft voice being so cold towards him. Everything, from the moment he woke up in this place, had felt so incredibly wrong. It wasn’t even funny.
Looking at you for a heartbeat longer before he tried leaning on his elbows, closing the gap between the two of you to some degree. For now he’ll play into your questions, maybe act a bit obvious.
Either you were playing with him that you didn’t know him, as well as the past you guys shared together - or you somehow were a completely different person, with different memories. That somehow looked like the you from his world and memories.
“Well, cutie… You can call me Rafayel,” he said as he lifted his chin just a tad bit more. “Sorry about that. It’s been a bit chaotic, with all the monsters and the whole apocalypse vibes, you know?”
You eyed him sceptically. The poorly lit basement cast uneven shadows across your face as you narrowed your eyes at him, but let him go in the end. Slowly climbing off of his hips, you reached out your hand to him. An unspoken invitation to help him get up from the dirty cement floor. He didn’t resist. His fingers closed around yours, and you pulled him to his feet.
Midway through, you couldn’t help the offhand comment. “I can tell. You don’t look like you belong here.” Your gaze flicked to the wound on his arm. “Crafty. Good job. A lot of new people don’t know what to do in situations like this. Looks like you’ve been handling your first scenario pretty well so far.”
You tilted your head slightly. “Did you figure out how to use your inventory yet?” You didn’t wait for him to answer before adding, “I can show you how to use it, on top of setting up your first base. A lot of new players struggle with the system in the beginning.”
Rafayel could only nod his head as he processed the information you told him. Grabbing his hand, you made sure to lead him out of the basement of the abandoned grocery store. While you were busy leading the way, Rafayel looked at your back some more. He was sure it was you. But at the same time, you acted too differently. Like you’ve never met him before. Like the memories you guys made were all a part of his imagination. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn’t see you summoning a motorbike out of thin air using something akin to an ipad.
“Get on. I’ll bring you with me to my temporary base.” You said as you sat on the motorbike, fully expecting him to sit down behind you, waiting for him. Rafayel stole a glance at your face, quickly scanning it with his gaze, before sitting down on the motorbike behind you and awkwardly putting his hands on your hips.
You looked behind your shoulder, cranking your neck up to look at the guy. “Come on, now. Grab me properly. Sadly, I don’t have any helmets to help protect that pretty face of yours in case you fall off.” He averted his gaze. Pretending to still look at you, he just looked at your forehead as he muttered a quiet “Okay, okay, I’m on it.” You only turned around when you actually felt his arms wrap securely around you.
Without a word, you started driving - manoeuvring between crashed cars and various obstructions as you sped off towards the direction. You were so occupied with driving that you didn’t notice Rafayel angling his body closer to you. He unintentionally breathed in your scent. Even that was somehow very… you coded. It took a lot out of him to hold back. If that was the you he knew, he would have already leaned in even closer - probably even putting his head on top of yours. The lack but also the abundance of familiarity was confusing. He was already theorising - you planning a cruel and elaborate joke, you losing your memories, the person he’s holding onto right now being your doppelgänger. Anything that would make sense within his bounds of reality that were wearing thin by the second.
“What’s your name?” Rafayel said as he squeezed your body. If the name was yours, then at least he could rule out one of the possibilities.
“My name? Oh, right. I didn’t introduce myself earlier. The name’s (Y/N).”
His breath hitched. It was you. There was no other way. But there was. He could try resonating with you. If it’s you, then it would work. There’s no way he could mistake the feeling. It was basically ingrained in his bones.
While he was busy with his thoughts, you pulled up to your base, driving over the grass and pebbles in the way. Stopping your motorbike almost in front of the door, you gestured for him to get off first and then followed suit after him. “It’s not much. Wasn’t expecting guests. If I knew, I would have put a bit more effort into it.”
It really wasn’t much. A singular room. It was basically a wooden box with survival basics, a bed, a fridge and some securement units with deviations inside. He looked at them curiously - they looked like small terrariums, made for whatever was inside them. His gaze moved to you when you spoke up. “Take a seat and take off your bandage, we’re gonna fix you right up.”
He sat on top of the only thing he saw inside the cluttered room. Your bed. Even the bed was reminding him of you. It was cream white, with a kitty-ear headboard and soft, fluffy sheets. As much as he hated cats - more like was scared of them - he had to admit that it was pretty cute.
You grabbed some filtered water from the fridge and some roasted fruit before making your way back to him. You handed him the water and the fruit before sitting down on the bed next to him. While he was drinking the water, you pulled out an activator. “This is an activator. You can think of it as… a shot. Or a vaccine. It’s the equivalent of a medkit. In this world, at least.”
He clearly looked suspicious. You took in a deep breath and continued with your explanation. “Look, you just take off the top and jab yourself with the needle. I know it sounds scary, honestly pretty batshit insane, but that’s how it works. I’ll even show you myself.”
He almost dropped the water, hands instinctively moving to grab yours to stop you from stabbing yourself with the medkit. But he was too slow and his face was already turning pale from shock. The medkit gave off a soft green glow as it spread over your body for a few seconds - any small scratches disappearing before his eyes. All he could do was blink and gape.
“See? It’s not as scary. Now, you should take off that bandage. Whatever wound you have, it will heal. Or you could… die. And then revive. Been there, done that - I don’t recommend it.” You handed him the activator, waiting for him to use it.
Rafayel looked at the activator some more. It was the size of a pen. The nonchalant tone of your voice worked somehow reassuringly, he was almost tempted to use it. “Do you just use it anywhere?” He asked. “Pretty much, arms, legs, stomach, any part works. I would recommend your arms though.” You reassured him, putting a hand on his back, rubbing small circles.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to, but at least keep it for when you need it. Once you learn the basics you’ll be able to make your own.”
Rafayel gave a hum of affirmation before taking off his bandage. The wound was healing nicely, but sadly the bandage was already partially gluing itself to his skin. His face twisted into a grimace. He looked at the activator in his hand. “You take off the top part right here, yeah?” he asked. “Yeah, just like that, you got this.” You encouraged him. With that, Rafayel used the activator, pushing the needle into his arm. A warm feeling spread over his body, along with the same green glow that you were covered in earlier. He observed the wound as it healed right before his eyes. Any potential discomfort he felt earlier because of the pain was also slowly going away.
“Thanks.” He looked at you as you were busy looking at his wound. “Don’t mention it. We all start somewhere.” You finally looked at him. At that point your knees were touching. You angled your head a little bit to the side, some of your hair falling freely to the side. It took a lot of restraint from him not to tuck your hair behind your ear. It only made him even more conscious of the situation at hand.
“Where are we, anyways?”
“We are on an island. Nalcott. In Dayton Wetlands.” Well, that didn’t tell him anything. If anything, it made him more confused.
“What about the year? Why is everything abandoned?” His voice was thick with bafflement. “And what did you mean by dying and reviving?”
The last part came out quieter than he intended. But you still heard it. And all you could do was give him a look of understanding.
“It’s all complicated. But I’ll try to give a short version to make it less confusing.” You took a deep breath. “You’re stuck in the world of the game ‘Once Human’ and to use myself as an example, I’ve been stuck here for a really, really long time.”
“The game takes place in the 2300s, I think? The reason why everything is abandoned, why there are monsters - it’s all because of something called The Starfall. It’s an event that happened over 20 years ago. A… rift space opened. The stardust started turning a lot of objects, animals and humans into monsters.” You observed his expression carefully. Seeing how he was keeping it together and listening to you so far, you continued.
“Only Meta-Humans are somewhat resistant to the stardust. We can use the power of stardust and have abilities of our own - but I never cared enough to see what my power is. Think of Meta-Humans as… Evolved humans. Artificially made. By Rosetta.”
“As for not dying, luckily it’s one of the features of the game. People can’t die and if we do, it’s not permanent. Both a curse and a blessing, if you ask me. I know it’s a lot, but that’s the world you woke up in. I’m sorry.”
Somehow, that hit Rafayel pretty deeply. Your lips were pursed in a flat line. And you were waiting. Expecting him to call you batshit crazy. To call you delusional. But Rafayel accepted it surprisingly well. After all, his world had the deepspace tunnel. So even though he wasn’t sure how he ended up here, it did make some sense, although not much.
Suddenly, he remembered all of the talk about other dimensions and spacetime-travel between the professors at the university he would occasionally give lectures at. They were mostly talking about the theories, and he couldn’t help but overhear. He regrets not listening in closer to their conversation, now. But before he confirmed his theory, he wanted to try something. He had to. Luckily for him, you went back to tracing some circles on his back - probably to try and ground him. He’s been quiet for a while. And your other hand was sitting on your lap.
He grabbed your hand in his and took in the feeling of your hand in his. You didn’t do anything, you concluded that he was still in shock and you wanted to let him process things at his own pace. You tried to ignore the feeling this whole time, but sitting in the dimly lit room and being in such close proximity made you painfully aware that something felt off. Like a hole was being filled with warmth. You told yourself that it had to be because you lacked human contact, you were lonely and not used to that. You were just being touch starved and getting all giddy and almost shy all because you’re not used to such closeness anymore, you tried to rationalize.
Rafayel, noticing you being absent-minded, decided to take his chances. Using his evol, he tried to resonate with you - just a little bit, softly - and he felt it. He knew that you felt it too. It was like electricity shooting through your hand at that moment, and you instinctively moved your hand away. “Sorry, I think we got electrocuted, somehow.”
You felt bad for how aggressively you ripped your hand out of his. Busy looking at your hand, you didn’t notice Rafayel’s reaction - both heartbroken, but also relieved. Looking at you, but looking through you, as if he was looking at somebody else. This, this was evidence he needed. And now he had two conclusions.
One, either you were the (Y/N) he knew, but you lost your memories. Or two, you were still yourself, but from an alternative universe.
And somehow the second option seemed more plausible.
Echoes of Stardust
Chapter 1: Everybody Starts Somewhere
Rafayel slowly blinked himself awake, sand meeting his gaze. The sound of the waves greeted his ears as he continued to breathe heavily. Trying to recall where he was.
He slowly rose up, pushing himself up using the palms of his hands as support. He did not recognize his surroundings. At all. The only thing he could go off of was the sight of an abandoned boat, halfway sunken into the water. The water was shallow enough that the boat would not be able to sink completely. His gaze moved to the north, noticing a hill with a road up ahead. Having nothing better to do, he moved towards the road, soon following it. Moving towards the west.
It didn’t take long before it started to rain, the water soaking his clothes even more. Everything was run down. The sign was covered in dirt, mud and graffiti. The diner - or what was left of it - was abandoned as well. Ivy sprouted and covered the whole roof. The windows were broken. He pushed ahead into the building, if only to protect himself from the rain. What he saw when he went inside shocked him even more. He was about to speak up and call out to the man in the building, when the man turned around, showing his face.
Lifeless eyes stared at him mindlessly, pale and devoid of life. The mouth was wide open, hanging off of temporomandibular joints, partially broken off. One hand reached out towards Rafayel and he couldn’t help but summon his dagger by instinct. No matter how you looked at it, that thing was not a human. And he was not about to get killed.
As soon as the thing charged at him, Rafayel didn’t hesitate to kill. With a swift dash to the side and a confident move of his arm, he slit the monster’s throat. But it was not enough. The monster stopped for a short moment and soon was on him again, and Rafayel could only repeat his action. Except he was aiming at the chest this time. It took approximately four slashes of his dagger to kill the thing. The monster was more fragile than the basic wanderers, luckily. Rafayel continued to push forward, killing more monsters in sight.
What he was not expecting was a wreck of a bus with… hands? It was enormous, walking on six arms instead of legs, and even more arms dangled from under the bus’ belly. It was enough to make him think he must have done drugs by accident at one of the events and that he was still under the effects.
The bus honked the horn before crouching down on all fours, and new enemies appeared, sprouting from the ground. Grasping at the concrete and dragging themselves out of the black pool of goo. Nothing human was about this batch of monsters. All of them were disturbingly skinny, with sharp edges being visible around elbows, hips and shoulders. Pale and purple skin. The biggest problem? There were six of them.
Rafayel acted swiftly and used his evol on two of the enemies. With a flick of his wrist, both enemies were covered in fire from head to toe. He dashed towards the third enemy and killed it with his weapon, blade digging into the enemies chest, slashing. Similar to the previous enemy, it also took about four hits of his dagger before finally dying. The dead body shattering and then turning into dust, moving with the wind.
His attention snapped back to the remaining three enemies, all of them rushing at him, guided by instinct. He scoffed at how disgusting they looked. “Teeth and claws over common sense, huh?” Rafayel wished he had you with him, dealing with those pests would certainly be faster with you around. Instead, he’s forced to dodge to the side. Two of the gnawers tripped over themselves during the charge at him. But the last one - certainly faster than the other two - managed to leave a scratch on Rafayel’s forearm. Rafayel clicked his tongue as the stinging feeling spread all over his arm. He should finish this quickly. Adjusting his posture, Rafayel launched at the enemy in front of him, aiming straight at the monster’s chest. Using his evol, he put the dagger on fire, succeeding in burning the enemy from the inside. It seemed way more effective. The monsters here were certainly more sensitive to his evol than just using a simple weapon. Fixing his posture and his weapon, he wasted no time charging at the remaining two enemies, but this time aiming at the head of the enemies.
Now that the remaining monsters turned to dust, Rafayel could finally take a look at the wound. Luckily it was just a cut, albeit deeper than he would have liked. He applied pressure to his wound, looking at it a bit more closely, but not seeing anything out of the ordinary. He saw an abandoned shop, and decided to try his luck and try to look for any rags he could as a makeshift bandage. Using his fire as a source of light, he was lucky to find an old shirt, still hanging on top of one of the hangers. Other than being a bit dusty, it seemed okay to use as a rag to stop the bleeding. Gritting his teeth, Rafayel used his evol on his arm, disinfecting the cut on his forearm, before bandaging it up as tightly as possible. He needed to collect his thoughts first, but he wasn’t even sure as to where should start. Nothing made sense - the location, enemies. At least he was able to use his evol and summon his dagger.
He moved forward until he saw a sign in the distance - Overlook Town. Considering the things he saw so far, he doubted he would find anybody to help. It was far more likely he would find more enemies. But he had to take the risk and potentially find some more resources he could use for survival. Maybe something more practical than an old rag.
𓆝𓆟༝˚｡⋆𓆉︎⋆｡˚༝𓆞𓆝𓆝𓆟༝˚｡⋆𓆉︎⋆｡˚༝𓆞𓆝𓆝𓆟༝˚｡⋆𓆉︎⋆｡˚༝𓆞𓆝
Meanwhile, you already looted the Rotten Manor and defeated the enemy. You even used the game system to put down your base, the system window appearing effortlessly with a weave of your hand. With the help of the items you brought with you early on, setting up the starting facilities and making a quick base was easy enough.
A cooking stove, some storage crates, weapon workbench as well as supplies workbench. And most importantly - your securement units. All lined up nicely inside your box of a base. It looked a bit more like the typical dirt house you would make in minecraft to survive the night, although yours was a bit more functional. But it was also temporary. You were gonna wait a bit before designing your house. You didn’t have the necessary blueprints yet, since your level was still low, and you had to level up some more to get more memetic points.
But that didn’t stop you from bringing more deviants from your spacetime backpack. Granted, you could take out items from your previous scenario. But all the items came at a cost - you had to be smart about what you wanted to bring. Usually a drill and a chainsaw were the most important. Right after that your main combat deviation - in this case your lovely pyrodino - and then base deviations. To finish it off you could take out some food buffs or whims, but after so many scenarios, you concluded that you could use the points on better things.
By now, you have created a motorbike already. And you were already on the way to loot the next location, Overlook Town. You had all the time in the world, and you liked doing things in a specific way. Quests and worldstones first, along with settlement exploration. And the monolith boss would be the last milestone before proceeding to the next zone.
Arriving at the east side of the town, you hopped off your motorbike and readied your KVD. You made sure to double check the ammo, making sure that you have enough and that it’s fully loaded. You didn’t waste time - you already knew the whole of Nalcott like the back of your hand. Moving to the main square, you hurried up to open up the gear crate located in the middle of the square.
Your ears perked up as you heard the characteristic static and siren sound, as a gigantic deviant emerged from the screen above the stage. Deviant’s hands grabbed the edges of the screen, pulled itself out of it and fell to the ground with a loud thud. The gust of wind made dust and debris fly all over the place, but that didn’t stop you from summoning your pyrodino. Aiming your gun at the enemy, you pressed the trigger as your pyrodino spit at the enemy, applying its passive. Together with your gun, it caused a powerful explosion - damaging the enemy. But it was not enough. It was bigger, tougher and had way more HP than an average enemy. Before you knew it, your magazine was empty. All 90 bullets - gone.
You sucked in a breath as you reloaded your gun with relative ease as your pyrodino ran up to the enemy, before breathing fire over it. You aim the gun at the enemy again and continue your assault with the bullets. Just as it was rising up, it only managed to take one step before falling to the ground again. You walked up to the pyrodino as the enemy started to turn into dust. Pyrodino hovered above you, easily two times your size. It obediently brought its head down, knowing what you were planning on doing - petting it. It gladly welcomed your unspoken praise before returning to the cradle on your back, going back to replenish its energy in case you need him again later.
The next place you moved to was the old abandoned market north of the main square - abandoned, as expected - but the enemies were gone. It wasn’t unusual. You weren’t the only player in this world, and a lot of people did stop by this location - it was one of the starting areas and one of the first looting places for a lot of players. But the lack of gunshots surprised you. You were sure you would hear gunshots other than your own, speaking from experience. Players could also use their default weapon, but you’ve rarely seen players do that. They are more likely to loot the location and run away from the enemies. And all the loot was here so far.
“Well… don’t mind if I do” you say as you grab the supplies, putting them into your inventory. You proceeded into the back of the store and followed the stairs down to the basement, where another gear crate was probably already waiting for you. You pressed the button next to the door - the mechanical door opening before you.
As soon as you took a step inside the room, you were roughly grabbed from behind, before being flipped and pushed towards the wall - the person pressing their body into you to restrain your form. “What the fuck! Let me go!” you thrashed around, before managing to tangle one of your legs between your oppressor’s. You quickly bend your knees and push your back with all the force you could muster into your attacker, freely throwing yourself at them. It seemed to work, as both of you toppled backwards, you on top of your aggressor. You waste no time as you move, wringing your body so you face the person and pin their arms, straddling their hips to lock them down. Vibrant blue-pink eyes stared back into yours, disbelief and surprise. Your hair fell over his face as you leaned in close, speaking to him through gritted teeth “Now.” You take a shallow breath. “Why would you do that?”
You roll your eyes, not even waiting for an answer, as you move your hands away. Of course you had to get caught by somebody that clearly looks like a new player. You ridicule yourself for getting caught off guard. Moving your hair out of your face, you get a better look at the person you’re sitting on top of - purple, wavy hair. Clearly very young, in his 20s. Fair skin. A white shirt and dark pants. You move one of your hands towards his face, cupping it and forcing him to look at you, disbelief still evident in his features as you spoke to him. “What, cat got your tongue? You’re not even gonna introduce yourself?”
The Echoes of Stardust - Intro
Summary:
Being transferred into the world of Once Human was a surprise, but something you could handle with your knowledge of the world. You were even starting to get used to being stuck here - until you encounter five anomalies - each desperate to make you remember.
(It's okay if you didn't play OH! It's not necessary for the enjoyment of the story. I'll add picture links if necessary/if anybody's curious. But it's one of the games that I like and spent a lot of hours on, and I wanted to make something slightly different from typical fanfiction following the LADS' game storyline. Both the reader and the LADS love interests have been summoned to the world of Once Human)
Story below! (Also on AO3)
You carefully prepared what you need for the next scenario. An advanced chainsaw, an advanced drill, some food and drink supplies. Some whim potions. But most importantly - your companion. Your backpack, or rather, your cradle rested on your bed. And your pyrodino in it, looking at you through the glass of the cradle, big black eyes looking straight into yours.
Wordlessly picking up your companion, you fixed the straps of your cradle, securing it in place. Pale white moonlight shone through the window of your room and it felt like the moon itself was staring at you. Carefully observing your moves. Knowing you’ll leave soon.
It always happened sooner or later; you would fight the Manibus, the powerful rift entity, and bring peace to this world, preventing absolute destruction of the world. Obviously you didn’t do it alone - other players were stuck in this game with you. But they would all leave the scenario as soon as it was done, just to repeat everything all over again. Not like you were any different from them. You would stay in the world for a bit longer than the average player, but in the end boredom would catch up to you and you would leave for a new scenario as well. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you would meet the same companions all over again. A lot of them would create hives and warbands. But not you.
You always stayed back. The world always felt hard to leave. But you would get bored of the piece and quiet after a while. Loneliness wasn’t helping either, pushing you into another scenario.
A pop-up window appeared the moment you called out to it. You didn’t waste time signing up for another scenario. But this time… You’ll do Manibus Visional Wheel. You craved a challenge, and the basic scenario was too easy at this point in time. All the weapon and armour mods you’ve collected so far have good stats on them. It took a bit of a grind, but now you’ve had a solid build and you were usually ranking among the highest damage dealers whenever you joined a new scenario. As soon as you pressed yes, a door appeared before you. And you didn’t hesitate going through it.
A bright flash blinded your vision, wind tore through your hair and you forced your eyes to open as gravity seized you. You were falling at a rapid peace.
You observed what you could see of Nalcott. Lush trees and vibrant green grass. That was the Dayton Wetlands you knew and liked, compared to the hot and sandy area of Red Sands. Admiring the sight for a heartbeat longer, you summoned V - a bird deviant - letting him catch your outstretched hands between his talons as you glided through the sky with his help, soon landing some distance away from the Rotten Manor.
The fuck we have ai "art" tutorials now ;((
A new offering. Uhh after shower selfie Milo?
Humble V!Milo offering.
Got a drawing tablet yesterday. Basicall ripped the drawing off of the reference. Got it off of pinterest so I have no link to the oryginal artist to give reference to.
(Prologue) Perfect(?)Milo x F!Reader - Red Tulip
Summary: Takes place after “Secret ending: Give him everything”. Something goes terribly, terribly wrong and Milo gains his memories back all over again. As much as he still has feelings for Eris, he will try his best this time around to live a life without pain. Without Eris. Join Milo on an adventure where he tries to use you as part of his plan, only to slowly fall for you as he heals his heart from Eris.
Reasoning: When it comes to abusive relationships it can be hard to let go. Sadly, the world is not black and white, it's mostly gray, and therefore a lot of emotions can co-exist at the same time. You can realize that you've been in an abusive relationship and still have feelings for your abuser. The first step to healing is to realize the abuse and take appropriate steps, no matter how hard they are in the beginning.
Thank you so much @perfectlovevn for making the game. I really appreciate your hard work you put into it. If you don't like the fanfiction for any reason, or there's anything you don't agree with, feel free to tell me. I respect you a lot and if you don't like my fanfiction I'll delete it.
Fanfiction under cut: ~1.1k words.
It was cold and dark, and yet, as terrifying as the silence was, it was comforting. Everything felt so vivid. Yet, here he was, feeling nothing at the same time. Drifting in and out of consciousness, all he could do was sleep, surrounded by nothingness.
How… Peaceful.
Is this what happens after death?
Milo closed his eyes, contemplating. The more time he spent here, the more memories came flooding back to him. He didn’t know how long he’s been forced to relive everything. At the pinnacle of his memories lay Eris.
Oh, how much he loved them. He would do everything for them. Just like his past selves did - nothing would be spared when it came to his Love. Would he see them soon? How much longer will he be forced to be here?
With each memory, his thoughts became more deranged. Crazed. Obsessed. He couldn’t wait to see them again. His mind drifted to the new nickname they will give him. Excitement was almost overflowing out of his body. Until a new memory appeared.
His emotions shifted. Anger, betrayal. Heartbreak. He desperately wanted to clench and hit something, yet he couldn’t move a thing. His throat refused to make a noise.
Silent tears ran down his cheeks. The poor man could only weep as his mind was being broken down, over and over again. And yet, here he was. Forced to watch how he followed Eris each time. How he blindly trusted them. How they bended him to their will.
As time passed, his emotions seemed to calm down. Anger changed to sadness, and from sadness came the blood thirst for revenge. With how he was stuck, however, it also went away with time. He just wished to be left alone.
If given the chance to fix his mistakes, he would. He would have never looked in their direction. He would have forced himself to be more social. He would have forced himself to be as average as one can be - all to avoid their gaze.
All to avoid their interest. To avoid their love.
It all left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.
Despite the fact that they were the reason for his pain and suffering, he still couldn’t bring it in himself to wish anything bad onto them. Even if given the chance, he wouldn't be able to bring them any harm. Even after everything, a part of him still loved them.
The void continued to surround him for an unspecified amount of time. Until finally, his waiting has been rewarded in the best of ways - woken up in his old bedroom. Boxes were neatly placed along the wall and only essentials could be seen on top of his desk.
It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. More than he could ask for, actually.
He clutched his heart as he took deep breaths in and out. Milo leaned his head against the wall to his right, the cold helping him to calm down. Soon, a smile crept onto his face. A dry chuckle followed soon after. He looked up at the ceiling.
As luck might have it, he went back in time before school started. Before his first year started. Before he met them.
It was too late to move to a different university. But it’s okay. He’ll do it after his first year. For now, he’ll have to think of something. Anything, to blend into the crowd.
For now, however, he needed more rest. Although he didn’t feel physically tired, his mental state was a completely different matter.
It didn’t take him long to make preparations. The easiest way would be to use what Eris taught him in all of his past lives. But it all felt wrong - after all, it brought back unwanted memories and emotions.
Whatever. It needs to be done. Milo pushed his emotions aside.
He would use what he had on hand. Both past memories and experience.
Milo traced the notes he made in his dairy. The notes consisted of people he knew would be useful. He needed someone Eris disliked, but not outright hated. Just someone they preferred not to cross paths with.
As his eyes scanned the list of names, they soon landed on a name he knew quite well.
(Y/N).
Known around the campus, had a very clean slate - when it came to drama, at least. Mostly minded her business. Grades were slightly above average, but nothing too outstanding. A member of the swimming club. Popular for all the good deeds she did. Had no tolerance for bullying of her friends. Isn’t scared to get into a fight for her friends, either.
Back in the days when Milo was jumping from one social circle to the other, no one ever said anything bad about her. Even when he tried to dig up something, it was almost impossible to find anything. All that was found were her good deeds. No one knew her family history or anything too personal. It was suspicious.
Getting into her circle of friends, however, was very easy. Breaking up said circle of friends was a different matter. It took some time and dedication. Some thinly veiled lies and set-ups, and he managed to do it. For Eris.
What a fool he was. How naive. How stupid.
He rubbed his temples before picking up a blue pen and circling around the most important fact about (Y\N).
Somehow, she always managed to avoid a bad end. No matter the scenario, in all his past lives, she was always a step ahead of him. Always able to escape his grip. Eris' plans didn't work on her either. As if she knew what Milo or Eris planned from the very beginning.
She would make for a good cover. A welcoming group of friends that is hard to break up. Somehow always predicted what Eris was up to. Hard to scam. Perfect.
He would use her as his perfect cover. By becoming her friend, he will use her loyalty as a shield.
Now for physical strength…
Milo looked over his body. Arms, chest, stomach, legs.
A shudder runs down his spine as he thinks of the pain he had endured. He won’t be a victim of bullying this time. That’s for certain.
He’ll work both on his social skills and on his physical abilities. There won’t be any pain in this life. Not this time.
Milo pushed himself away from his desk gently and threw his head back, rubbing his eyes and taking his time to collect his thoughts. Memories of past lives still played on repeat whenever he closed his eyes. All he could do was hope that it would become easier to manage over time.
For now, he’ll need to find a way to meet (Y/N). Preferably before university starts, since he can’t sign up for the swimming club yet. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to scout the local swimming pools, to see if he would be able to find her. Maybe going to a party and socializing would help him get some information.
It didn't take him long to come up with a schedule to find (Y/N).
I hate that when there's no fics for a pairing I think should have fics there is only one thing i can do about it.
*cracks knuckles*
I've joined few new fandoms after playing some visual novels I fell in love with. The worst part? There's almost no content to feed my addiction.
So I'll do it myself.
I'm ready for war!
Nine People I'd like to know better
Last Song I listened to: This Charming Man - The Smiths
Currently Watching: rewatching Majin Tantei Nogami Neuro
Sweet/Savoury/Spicy?: sweet
Relationship Status: polyam/married
Current Obsession: Ace Attorney 😂
@faerieyuri @mio-nika @despair-nagito @abnormal-artist
@hopscorched @length-of-edward @tacobellabeanburrito
@timetoeatthebread-blog
Last song I listened to: Agora Hills - Doja Cat
Currently Watching: Sugar Apple Fairy Tale
Sweet/Savoury/Spicy: Spicy. I love Buldak Spicy Noodles!
Relationship Status: Monogamous/In a relationship
Current Obsession: DOL/Heartsteel/Aphelios
Sadly I don't know 9 people on Tumblr :')
@duckchu
Why Do People Like Yanderes?
Hi everyone, my name is Diya, and this was going to be a YT video-essay-type-thing but I'm too poor to afford a mic and too busy with college to learn how to edit videos, so here's my vague exploration of the psychology behind why people like yanderes so much through the lens of my favourite Visual Novels.
TW for uh. yandere content. Mentions of sex, gore, and non-con, particularly in the last topic. This is more like the first draft of an academic paper so while it's not explicit, I do go into some detail.
Introduction
If you’re a fan of anime or visual novels, then you’re probably already aware of what a yandere is, or at the very least you’ve seen that one picture of Yuno Gasai. Still, for the sake of thoroughness, let’s take it from the tippy top. The term ‘yandere’ is a Japanese portmanteau of ‘yanderu’ – the progressive form of ‘yami’ – meaning ‘sick’, and ‘deredere’ which roughly translates to ‘loving’. Together, the word refers to someone who is – in short – extremely lovesick. Obsessive to the extreme, and with little morality to spare, the standard yandere is characterized by a dangerous fixation on a chosen target, often appearing shy and caring at first only to flip the script and become violently aggressive towards perceived threats (Kroon, 2010).
It should be noted that yanderes are not a strictly romantic or sexual trope. The Ancient Greeks classified at least six forms of love, from familial (storge) to guests (xenia). Modern psychologists may distinguish love as either Companionate or Passionate (Kim & Hatfield, 2004) or consisting of three dimensions of Intimacy, Passion, and Commitment (Sternberg & Sternberg, 2018). Realistically, possessiveness shows up in a variety of relationships. However, people are generally primed to view certain dynamics as inherently amorous. Societal norms tend to encourage the idea that romantic bonds ought to rank above all others, and therefore if Person A is bizarrely fixated on Person B, then clearly there must be an element of sexual interest involved regardless of the actual relationship between the individuals in question.
Regardless, yanderes remain quite popular in fiction. Many dismiss it as a fetish, which it can be, but that isn’t the case for everyone. While there is nothing wrong with indulging in kinky fiction, not all of us get horny at the thought of being chained up in someone’s basement, no matter how hot our captor may be. So why is it so pervasive? Why is this trope so appealing that most writers cannot help but include at least a single line of dialogue implying that – if circumstances had been ever so slightly different – my wholesome shoujo romcom might have turned into a psychological horror?
Hybristophilia
‘Hybristophilia’, also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome after the titular criminal couple, is a word is derived from the Greek word ‘hybridzein’ meaning ‘to commit an outrage against someone’ and ‘philo’ which means ‘a strong preference for’. Sexologist John Money reportedly defined it as a paraphilia in which an individual is sexually aroused by a partner who has a predatory history of hurting other people (Money, 1986, as cited in Matuszak, 2017). In his book, Serial Killer Groupies, true crime and crime fiction author RJ Parker distinguished two forms of hybristophilia: passive and aggressive. The former is when an individual contacts a criminal with the intention of striking up a relationship with them, allowing themselves to be seduced and manipulated but having no interest in committing a crime themselves. The latter are far more dangerous, as the individual not only derives sexual pleasure from their partner’s atrocities but are active participants in carrying out or covering up the crime. To quote Griffiths (2013, as cited in Pettigrew, 2019):
“[They] help out their lovers with their criminal agenda by luring victims, hiding bodies, covering crimes, or even committing crimes. They are attracted to their lovers because of their violent actions and want to receive love yet are unable to understand that their lovers are psychopaths who are manipulating them.”
In some ways, hybristophilia is the nearest thing we have to a realistic understanding of why people love yanderes. I mean, much of the fantasy surrounding such characters and their media tend to be filled with posts begging to be spat on or calling the rightfully terrified main character ungrateful for being a teeny bit upset about finding surveillance cameras in their ceiling. However, enjoying fictitious immoral activity does not predict real perpetration, so what does? There exists little consensus amongst psychologists as to what sparks this particular predilection, and that was strange to me. You would think there would be more studies into this topic, in spite of or perhaps because of its controversial nature. Heck, that one dude wouldn’t shut up about white women’s obsession with Bundy and Dahmer, and I assumed he had gotten that information from somewhere, but it turns out that was just him using modifiers to justify sexism.
However, I believe that we can hedge a few guesses, and over the course of my research, I’ve organized the main rationalizations under four umbrellas which I will explore through the lens of my favourite yandere-themed Visual Novels. Please keep in mind that most of these games are rated as mature due to sexual scenes and/or gore. Additionally, in the spirit of transparency, this ramble will be focused exclusively on male or masculine yanderes. So, without further ado:
Call Me Bob the Builder Because I Can Fix Them
If you’re familiar with DC Comic’s Batman, or just happen to have attended any costume event held over the span of the last 20+ years, you may be familiar with the character of Dr. Harleen Quinzel, better known as Harley Quinn. Initially created as the Joker’s one-off sidekick in Batman The Animated Series, she was so well-received by audiences that she became a recurring character in the cartoon and was eventually given a proper origin story in the form of a one-shot titled Mad Love.
Harley’s origin story has seen some alterations over the past decades, but the core aspects remain largely untouched. In the beginning, Harleen Quinzel was a promising young woman who wanted was a degree from the university’s prestigious psychology department, which she gained through…less than scrupulous means.
(Listen, I’m not sure if the authors were leaning on the Dumb Blonde stereotype, or if they simply thought that casting her as a genuinely bad student would make her later actions more believable. Either way, the idea of Harley as someone with a legitimate PhD came later)
After landing an internship at Arkham Asylum – a half-hospital and half-prison straight out of the 1870s that might as well be built out of one-ply tissue-paper soaked with gasoline and left next to a crate of fireworks – Harleen set her sights on the then incarcerated Joker. At the start, her fixation on the criminal wasn’t remotely sympathetic. She didn’t want to help him, she wanted to use him. Harleen Quinzel wanted piggyback off his infamy and write a tell-all tale detailing what sort of messed up childhood resulted in Gotham’s Clown Prince of Crime. Yet the more she interacted with him, the more the Joker took advantage of her empathy. By the end of their sessions, Harley no longer saw him as a violent serial killer with a clown schtick, but as a “lost, injured child looking to make the world laugh at his antics.”
But Diya, you may be asking, what does this have to do with the video? The Joker never loved Harley, and it could even be argued – as Shehadeh did in a 2017 essay – that her obsession with the pasty-faced clown is more akin to Histrionic Personality Disorder. While that may be the case, I believe that Harley’s story provides one of the reasons yanderes are so popular: their backstory.
Whether they were abandoned by their family, bullied by their peers, experimented on by evil scientists, starved on the streets, died under mysterious circumstances and then trapped in a haunted VCR tape for decades, or are simply so impossibly inhuman that they frankly do not understand why it isn’t socially acceptable to imprison their crush in a pocket dimension made of meat and non-Euclidean geometry, yanderes often have fairly sympathetic or at least understandable explanations for why they are Like That. Your mileage may vary significantly depending on how much you sympathize with these motives, but the point is that yanderes always make sense to some degree. Their morality and priorities may be twisted or even completely incomprehensible, but the audience almost always knows the reason, and that can be comforting. In the real world, other people aren’t always straightforward, and we never really know what they’re thinking, but narrative coherence demands a semblance of internal consistency lest the audience end up frustrated and confused. So yanderes are not only easy to sympathize with, but also fairly predictable. In-universe they may be unhinged freaks with a blood fetish, but to you watching from behind the safety of the screen they’re just acting out the script written for them based on a prototype. And if you understand the why behind their loose gears, then you might just be able to put them back together again.
The concept of rescue romances or “I Can Fix Them” has been around in our stories for thousands of years. The Epic of Gilgamesh detailed how Shamhat essentially ‘civilized’ wild man Enkidu through ritual lovemaking, and a concerning number of religions push the idea that women are dutybound to save men from the follies of sin. Yet men are not exempt either, with one notable example being the German fairytale, King Thrushbeard. Call it what you will regardless: Knights in Shining Armour, the Florence Nightingale Effect, or a plain old case of Because You Were Nice to Me, studies have shown that human beings generally like helping [DA2] others, even when the reason doesn’t necessarily stem from pure altruism. I will delve deeper into this later, but care and compassion are deeply ingrained in human nature, and arising from those roots is the appeal of this mentality: You can save them. You can change them. You can make them better. You are special, and the way you treat this person carries a weight that has not and will never be matched by anyone else for the rest of their mortal or immortal existence.
The illusion is a delicious one, especially if the person you’ve helped turns out to be a billionaire CEO with cash to burn, a super powerful ghost king willing to raze continents to dust for you, a demon having fun on a Friday night, or just your average hot creep with a knife. Moreover, different people have different ideas of what ‘fixing’ even means. Maybe you want to single-handedly rehabilitate your yandere into a functional member of society. Maybe you’re cool with the incessant stalking but would like them to stop slaughtering your friends, family, and local service workers. Maybe you want to make them much, much worse.
Not only do yanderes provide immediate proof that your actions have a tangible impact on the lives of others, but the fantasy also includes the desire of being seen as special. Of being admired and adored by someone whose life you inexplicably made better by virtue of simply being yourself, or an idealized version of yourself. In this fictional world, in this imaginary setting, the person you are is so uniquely, impossibly irreplaceable to someone. And if that’s the case then they can’t risk losing you, can they?
The Allure of Obsession, or ‘Til Death Do Us Part (Literally)
It shouldn’t be necessary, but here is my obligatory disclaimer anyway. Ahem: obsession is not a good thing in real life. Fixating on another human to the detriment of your own wellbeing and that of those around you is dangerous, as is encouraging someone else to obsess over you. You might think you are being worshiped, but real life is not a visual novel. The outside world doesn’t come with an age rating, the author’s guiding pen, and a convenient fade to credits sequence once you’ve reached an ending. The consequences will still be there in the morning, so don’t do it. Just don’t.
PSA out of the way, it’s natural to want to be wanted. Maslow’s Hierarchy places it just above physical safety, but I’d argue that it could easily be compared to baser drives. According to many psychological and anthropological studies, much of humanity’s continued survival and environmental dominance is largely attributed to our ability to form groups, cooperate with one another, and maintain complex interpersonal networks. Social support, intimacy, and a sense of belonging are linked to emotional and physical benefits, such as more optimistic health perceptions, higher subjective well-being, increased creativity and innovation, and greater self-efficacy (DeWall & Bushman, 2011; Harandi et al., 2017; Wang & Sha, 2018). Therefore, it’s perfectly understandable that rejection of any sort would be construed as a threat.
But if someone is obsessed with you, then you have no reason to worry about that, right? No more nights spent agonizing over how they feel about you, asking yourself whether your last text made you sound too desperate, or if you’re boring them because you spent the past hour info-dumping about Stardew Valley farm layouts. With a yandere, there will never be any doubt that they care about you. Sure, they might go about it in weird, manipulative, and insidious ways that violate your physical and mental autonomy, but you can’t deny their loyalty. They do love you in their own bizarre way. You are the sun around which they orbit. When you’re in the room, no one else exists. Every single messy flaw is just another bullet point on the mile-long list of why they adore you.
In essence, yanderes are not only attentive, but their love can be virtually unconditional. A yandere might know everything about you, and still revere you. It’s unhealthy as hell and you might genuinely question their taste, but it can be tempting to pretend that all of you, right down to the ugliest parts of yourself – the traits and choices that you would never share with another living soul even at gunpoint – are worthy of understanding, if not open praise and affection.
Attractiveness, or Okay but Have You Considered That They’re Hot Though?
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I mean what am I supposed to say here? They’re hot, what do you want from me?
No, but in all seriousness, fictional media paints an idealized version of the world, and most yanderes are hot because they have the freedom of existing purely behind that screen; artfully arranged and edited to forever appear compelling to anyone who happens to enjoy their particular style. And there are a lot of styles to choose from. Whether you want them pretty faced and disarmingly cute, or scarred up and big enough to pin you like a butterfly, yanderes come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes that are meant to pique your interest and draw you in like a naïve little fish being lured towards the mouth of an angler fish, unwilling to believe that anything bad might happen to us when the bait is this pretty.
This is often referred to as the Halo Effect, a form of cognitive bias referring to the tendency for people to assume that a single obvious positive trait must be associated with other positive traits. The go-to characteristic is typically physical attractiveness, but a nice voice, good humour, and cooking skills are also factors which serve to influence our perceptions.
So, conventional physical attractiveness is one thing, but that’s only skin deep. What about beyond that? After all, the yandere still has to talk to you before they enact their master plan of tying you up in their basement until Stockholm Syndrome kicks in.
When I showed my friend a picture of John Doe from the game John Doe, she told me that he looked like a creepy slob, and she’s far from the only person who’s ever thought so. Look at them. I feel like if I tried to comb that hair it would simply eat me, and some of the CGs really put the scopophobia in Scopophobia Studios. I love Doe, but he is not hot, and he doesn’t behave in a normally appealing way either. If the player chooses not to take a bath, Doe will immediately comment that you “smell good” before following you home, breaking into your house, and leaving a bloody organ on the floor for the player to trip over. Many yanderes can at least fake a veneer of normalcy, but from the get-go Doe doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s anything less than an otherworldly creature stuffed into a vaguely person-shaped meatsuit. In an effort to find out why so many people had latched on to Doe – including me – I shopped around social media and YouTube for answers, and what I found was a widely unanimous sentiment.
While some were drawn to his fun design and goofy personality, most simply thought that he wasn’t inherently malevolent, just very confused. In addition to being a supernatural being with a completely alien axis of morality, Doe’s meta-awareness and unbridled attempts at winning the player’s affection lends him quite a bit of support from the audience, especially if you yourself also happen to struggle with social cues and relate to his pure earnestness. In Ending 7 of the extended version, the player character has the option to tell Doe – who has altered himself to pass as more ‘normal’ – that they prefer who he truly is, at which point he grows visibly flustered and sports an adorable pair of literal heart-shaped pupils.
Whether they’re charismatic, seductive, cute, sweet, funny, nurturing, or generous, the best yanderes have engaging personalities. Even while they’re committing truly heinous crimes against God, man, and your guts, you still kinda want to hang out with them, and you want them to acknowledge you as being just as interesting. And this is all fine in fiction because you’re the one in charge, and if you ever get bored or uncomfortable or busy with something else, then you can simply close the tab or window with zero consequences, which brings us to the final and most important reason.
Power Dynamics and Consent in Fantasy (I Couldn’t Think of a Joke Here Guys, This Is Kinda Serious)
Once again, I feel that I must preface this section just for the sake of my own peace of mind: sexual coercion and assault are vile and disgusting crimes that should never be emulated or tolerated in the real world. We are speaking purely of fictional media, specifically adult-oriented media in this case, so please be mindful.
In 2009, Bivoni and Critelli conducted a study on 355 undergraduate women with the goal of assessing the reasons behind fantasies of non-consent. At the time, there were two leading explanations of this phenomenon. One stated that women with high libidos but repressed views of sex used these imaginary scenarios to alleviate the guilt they had grown to associate with sex. Because the simulation was a purely mental exercise and they themselves were cast as helpless victims in the scenario, they were able to remain blameless while still finding sexual gratification. The second stated that these fantasies were an expression of liberation by women who were adventurous and comfortable enough with their own sexuality to engage with taboo ideas that they weren’t at all interested in performing in real life. Which do you think was more common?
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If you guessed the second option, you’d be right. The study found that of the 220 women who had experienced such fantasies, 45% found theirs erotic, 46% were mixed, and only 9% reported pure aversion. One justification for this outcome relies on psycho-biological theories, for example masochistic preferences or the unintended activation of the sympathetic nervous system and subsequent mis-attribution of arousal. Other reasons have to do with higher order thinking and are tied to the power dynamics within such fantasies. On the surface is the appeal of being so desirable to someone that they simply cannot control themselves, but then there is a deeper impulse, which the researchers referred to as Adversary Transformation. To quote the article: “[fantasies] involve a struggle between an assailant and a potential victim in which it is relevant to consider who is the winner and who is the loser. At one level, it is a struggle over sex, but the woman's non-consent may be feigned or token. At another level, the woman may be seeking a victory that is not about whether sex occurs, but about what happens emotionally between the protagonists.”
Basically, the imaginary perpetrator may have ‘won’, but the self-character need not have ‘lost’.
Media provides an extra layer to the illusion, one that you as the viewer have absolute control over. If you are choosing to engage with a piece of media that explicitly labels itself as including R18+ yandere content, then you clearly have some expectations, and that background awareness goes a long way in reducing long-term discomfort and allowing audiences to make informed decisions. If you don’t like the plot, you can simply turn it off it with the click of a button, and when the screen goes dark it’s not like the yandere is going to punish you for saying no. Strade isn’t going to break into your house with a drill, there are no homicidal clown ghosts hiding in your TV, and no suspicious pink-haired hackers watching your webcam. They aren’t real, and the consequences aren’t real either. You have all the power here.
Conclusion
In summary, Yanderes are appealing for a variety of reasons. Whether you want to save them, think they’re attractive, wish to indulge in a dream of being utterly coveted, or simply enjoy a bit of spice in your me-time, it’s obvious why the trope has persisted for so long and will likely continue to do so. If you enjoy yanderes but are worried that having a taste for the less wholesome side of things might imply something about who you are as a person, don’t be. The notion that fantasies and media preferences directly reflect subconscious desires is not only painfully out of date debunked nonsense but also indicative of restrictive ideologies wherein bad thoughts = sin. This isn’t 1984. You haven’t committed a thought-crime by having a weird kink. You aren't going to superhell for fantasizing. The human mind is hardly ever so mathematically rational, and the point of fiction is to allow us to safely engage with and explore various ideas, provided the everyone involved is mentally, chronologically, and emotionally mature enough to do so.
Thank you all for listening to me. If you learned something or were just a little bit entertained. If you're curious about knowing more, I've listed my sources below
REFERENCES
Bivona, J. M., & Critelli, J. W. (2009). The Nature of Women’s Rape Fantasies: An analysis of prevalence, frequency, and contents. Journal of Sex Research, 46(1), 33–45. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490802624406
Critelli, J. W., & Bivona, J. M. (2008). Women’s Erotic Rape Fantasies: An Evaluation of Theory and research. Journal of Sex Research, 45(1), 57–70. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490701808191
DeWall, C. N., & Bushman, B. J. (2011). Social acceptance and rejection. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 20(4), 256–260. https://doi.org/10.1177/0963721411417545
Flynn, F. J., Reagans, R., Amanatullah, E. T., & Ames, D. R. (2006). Helping one’s way to the top: Self-monitors achieve status by helping others and knowing who helps whom. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 91(6), 1123–1137. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.91.6.1123
Harandi, T. F., Taghinasab, M. M., & Nayeri, T. D. (2017). The correlation of social support with mental health: A meta-analysis. Electronic Physician, 9(9), 5212–5222. https://doi.org/10.19082/5212
Hazen, H. (1983). Endless rapture: rape, romance, and the female imagination. https://openlibrary.org/books/OL3161300M/Endless_rapture
Kroon, R. W. (2010). A/V A to z: An Encyclopedic Dictionary of Media, Entertainment and Other Audiovisual Terms. McFarland.
Matuszak, M. (2017). Hybristophilia White Paper. https://static1.squarespace.com/static/55dfd21ee4b0718764fb34cc/t/5cb7cabee5e5f00ab13be58b/1555548863275/Hybristophilia+White+Paper.pdf
Oarga, C., Stavrova, O., & Fetchenhauer, D. (2015). When and why is helping others good for well-being? The role of belief in reciprocity and conformity to society’s expectations. European Journal of Social Psychology, 45(2), 242–254. https://doi.org/10.1002/ejsp.2092
Parker, R. (2014). Serial killer groupies. RJ PARKER PUBLISHING, INC.
Wang, T., & Sha, H. (2018). The influence of social rejection on cognitive control. Psychology, 09(7), 1707–1719. https://doi.org/10.4236/psych.2018.97101
Beautifully put, especially the lower half of your research! I really appreciate the sources especially, and how you put things into perspective with multiple examples.
Sadly a lot of people don't understand that people write all kinds of fictions for different reasons, and I hope that with your wonderful research more people will be able to understand a little bit more why problematic themes are not inherently bad to write about.
Just because I love yanderes doesn't mean I want to be kidnapped or raped in real life, and I feel like that goes without saying - but apparently not for a lot of people.
Hi! I really liked your headcanons of heartsteel with a missing child. It was so adorable So I was hoping I could send in something similar? A request for headcanons of heartsteel with a missing teenager? The teenager is very silent, a little sarcastic or witty with comebacks but overall very private and maybe likes literature or art? If you can't just ignore this request ofcc!
Thank you so much for the ask - I didn't have any inspiration to write, but I did feel much better today. I'll probably make a seperate post for all 6 members of heartsteel. But for now I hope you'll be happy with the Kayn scenario! 2K words.
Kayn:
Sitting under the bridge, you glanced at the water before you. Remaining rays of sunshine reflected in rippled water - a wonderful display of orange, purple and yellow. Weaves crashed against the edge, creating a calming hum that rang against your ears.
Although the situation was far from ideal, you were still hopeful. You still carried a few items to your name other than your wallet and clothes; your book, which contained various poems; your ipad, that let you do your commissions; and lastly, your headphones, so you could relax and listen to music whenever you desired.
As the sun started to disappear behind the horizon, you finally decided to sit down on the ground. It didn’t take long for you to grab your headphones and your ipad - you had work to do. You worked on your commission diligently. The fresh, cold breeze helped you focus, along with the music that played in the background. You still had some battery left; looks like you won’t have to go to that internet cafe anytime soon.
While you were focused on your task, you didn’t notice the man that was a few feet away from you, a bag in his hand and neck gaiter. He didn’t pay any attention to you whatsoever.
Instead, he was focused on the task at hand. He gingerly rummaged through the bag, retrieving a can of spray paint. With a long stride, he reduced the gap between him and the wall of the bridge. It didn’t take long before he started his work.
He layered the fundations roughly and quickly. Somehow, even with his bold and aggressive motions, all of his moves seemed calculated and pre-planned. Soon, a pale visage could be made out in the darkness that seemed endless, with fire soon following the visage closely behind and spreading throughout the endless void. The image was as morbid and detailed as it was impressive.
Neither of you paid any attention to each other. That is, until the man accidentally threw one of the cans away, and by some miracle - it just had to hit you on the top of your head.
Obviously startled, you looked around for the culprit, that was responsible for your throbbing headache. And there, you saw him. Messy hair fluttered in the wind as he continued to move around recklessly, and somehow, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. Grabbing the can, you made sure to throw it at his back when he was facing away from you.
Before he could even turn around, you went back to what you were doing instantly, pretending to be completely obvious.
He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you. What the hell was a kid doing there, at this hour? Kayn was ready to fight whoever threw the can at him, but it seems like he had more pressing matters to attend to.
“Ay, Kid. Why are here?”
If it wasn’t for his obnoxious voice - that you could hear through your headphones, by the way - you wouldn’t have noticed that he was even there. You continued to pretend to not notice his presence, which only seemed to irritate him.
At this point he pulled his mouth mask all the way down as he repeated his words, this time more demanding than before, with the addition of him weaving his hand in front of your face. Which obstructed your view of your commission that you were working on.
Rolling your eyes at him, you made sure to save your progress before closing down your ipad and putting it into your bag. Only then did you notice how he was hovering over your sitting form. He seemed more scary than before, somehow. His weird pink eye didn’t help. Did he even get it checked? You still wouldn’t show your discomfort, though.
“Huh? Last time I checked, this is not private property. Leave me alone, Mister.”
Kayn didn’t like the tone of your voice. Not even the tiniest bit. He swore he could feel his temple pulsate from how annoyed he was. This was exactly why he hated children and teens alike - he hated disrespect more than anything. He grit his teeth before ushering you to go back home.
“Yeah, no. It’s well over the curfew. Get back home or I’m gonna call the police - now move your ass.”
He hated being responsible for other people. You were in a weird ass remote area, it was late and barely any cars passed through the bridge. Kayn was honestly surprised at the fact that he was the only one around other than you - this area wasn’t exactly the safest, per se. Yone would be out to get his ass if the word got out that not only was he committing vandalism again, but that he also left a teen alone in a dangerous area.
You shook your head at him, muttering a “Nu-uh” under your breath.
Was it possible for him to take you to the nearest police station by force? He examined your silhouette. Yep, he could definitely drag your ass to the nearest police station, no questions asked. He was much stronger than he led on.
“Listen here, you little gremlin. I’m gonna drag your ass to the nearest police station if that’s the last thing I’ll do. You can either follow me willingly or I’m gonna take you there by force.”, he pointed in the direction of where the road was and gave you a harsh glare as he grabbed your hand by force.
The strength with which he pulled you up not only surprised you, but it instantly made you dig your heels in the opposite direction. You absolutely refused to be dragged away by him - there’s no way you’re going back home. Your parents can fuck off into narnia.
You thrashed around and fought, winces and growls escaped your lips as you tried to resist his strength.
“Leave me alone! I’m not going back to them!”
At this point his jaw was tense. Fuck Yone and fuck the responsibility he taught him.
“Unless you got a good reason, I’m draggin’ you to the police station, Kid. Better talk, or else…”
Shit. You really didn’t want anyone to know, but you really didn’t have a choice, did you? You stopped thrashing around and instead stood still in place as you took a few breaths to calm yourself down. Kayn finally let go of your hand, letting you pull up one of your sleeves.
You moved your gaze to the side in shame as you let him gawk at your bruises and scars, before pulling the sleeve back down harshly, and hiding both of your hands behind your sleeves altogether.
The situation was more serious than Kayn anticipated.
He expected you to just be acting rebellious - just like most teens do at this age. Heck, it hasn’t even been that long when he was a teen himself, and he remembered damn well what shit he used to do.
Cursing under his breath, he took out his phone and called the most responsible and knowledgeable person he knew, which was none other than Yone. He saw you visibly freeze up when you heard him talk on the phone. He simply told Yone to move his ass to where he was, cause whatever this was, was more serious than he would ever be able to tackle, if at all.
Did he feel like an asshole? Yes. Would he ever admit it? No. The fact that he saw you shake - probably because of stress of the whole situation - only made him feel more terrible about himself. He hated it.
Rummaging through his bag, he quickly found a pack of hot chips and a monster. He was supposed to enjoy it later, after he finished his masterpiece, but this once, and only this once, he would make an exception. He would share. Kayn shoved the snacks into your hands, muttering something about how you should stop being such a scaredy cat and that you should sit your ass back down for now. There was no apology coming out from him, though.
You really didn’t understand why you listened to him. Because - frankly speaking - he was an asshole that tried to drag you somewhere, where you would be in danger. But for some reason you got the feeling that he didn’t have any ulterior motives. His rough personality and weird eye aside, he didn’t seem like a bad person at all.
As you munched on the snacks, you observed as he finished up his graffiti. It felt… familiar.
After some hard thinking, you opened up your book. Flipping through the pages, you finally found the one you were looking for. It reminded you strangely of one of William Blake’s poems. More specifically, his Urizen series.
Turns out, you were correct. The description fit the painting perfectly. It got you kind of excited, actually. You kind of hoped he knew who William Blake was, since it seemed to be so rare to find people who knew of him. The thought alone got you so giddy that you sprung up from where you were, gingerly making your way towards him. You didn’t even notice when you tugged on his jacket to get his attention, and time seemed to move even faster when you made him look at the poem itself.
He knew instantly which poem it was - the graffiti was supposed to be Urizen himself. More than anything, he was surprised as well that you knew of it. Most people slept through their English classes, and the only reason he knew of William Blake was because of the Devil May Cry series. Thanks to the quotes V was reading in his book, it made Kayn curious and that’s how he discovered William Blake.
Shortly after the shock wore off, he snapped back to his usual personality. “Yeah, it’s supposed to be Urizen. What about it?”
You didn’t really know what to say to that. Instead, you pursed your lips together in a straight line and stared right at him. You really knew how to make him feel like shit, huh? Pushing just the right buttons to make him annoyed and care for you - is this how having a younger sibling is supposed to feel like. Not that he would know how it feels like.
You closed your book and got back to your spot without a word, cautiously eating the chips and sipping on the energy drink occasionally. For the better or the worse, Yone finally came sometime later. Kayn filled in Yone on the most important details and it didn’t take long for him to come up to you, so he can introduce both himself and Kayn to you. It totally slipped Kayn’s mind to introduce himself, he realized.
Yone was much more courteous and well-mannered compared to the brute that was Kayn. He managed to get your name and age out of you, before trying to ask you a few more private questions about your family - all of which you refused to answer.
Finally, he asked you if you wanted to stay the night at their place, since it would be more safe for you that way. To the best of your ability, you did try to discern if Kayn or Yone had any bad intentions. But soon enough, it became obvious that they did not harbor any bad intentions. Collecting your thoughts and counting all the pros and cons, you decided to agree.
From then on everything was a blur. The ride in the car was comfortable. It was warm and cozy and you didn’t even notice when you fell asleep. More importantly, you didn’t even remember falling asleep in a bed. All you remembered was warmth and a subtle smell of wilderness and lemongrass.
After waiting for this moment ever since I was 14, I finally saved up for a proper PC. I can play whatever I want. I can make whatever I want. I feel unstoppable
Actually you do not need to respect the creator or their intentions for the characters when writing fanfiction or shipping.
That's kind of the whole point of fanfiction and shipping-- doing what you want with the material without regard to the original creator's intentions.
