#'When the light is running low And the shadows start to grow'

[shinydiversity]

Does anybody else ever wonder what the lyrics for "Don't Forget" from Deltarune refer to? I like to think that it is actually frisk or chara singing to the player and not to kris or any other character. "And the places that you know seem like fantasy" could very much be referring to Undertale, as the dark world reminds the player of the underground. Also- "don't forget, I'm with you in the dark" could also be referring to frisk or chara, which are still a part of Kris's soul, staying with the player in this new dark world, full of new people who he never got to meet in Undertale. Tell me your theories in the replies if you want to 😊. Have a wonderful day! 😄

#when the light is running low and the shadows start to grow and the places that you know seem like fantasy there's a light inside your soul #when the light is running low #Undertale #Deltarune #deltarune chapter one #theory #don't forget #kris dreemurr #chara dreemurr #frisk undertale #Kris #Frisk #Chara

[imshymorph]

So, new story! Death!Ghost x Life!reader. It’s a longer one, there’s much more to their story if everyone likes it an wants to see more. Update: Here's Part 2 and Part 3

You’re sitting by the edge of the water, fingers lightly dipping in the creek and moving around. The ripples that form from your movement making tadpoles, small fish and spurts of water plants come to be.

It felt natural, with the longer hours of sunlight and the rising of temperature, to start using your abilities once again. To take your side of the mantle once Death had taken the grunt of the work in the colder months. Spring was only nearing closer, and that meant you’d have to start adding spirits back to the Earth, it was your time to keep balance.

- - - - -

You looked up from the stream, from the trail of tiny creatures that gladly followed the movement of their creator’s hand, when you felt the breeze cool a little. It could only mean one thing.

Your lips pull up into a soft smile, your lively eyes crinkling lightly at the edges as you see him stand on the other side of the creek. His own eyes shift under the skull mask, and you know he’s smiling back even if his eyes are covered by the shadow of the bone. It doesn’t surprise you that within barely a few seconds he’s instead sitting beside you, the wavy reflection of the water in front of you confirming his presence.

It always felt like that, peaceful and comfortable in each other's presence. You had gotten used to Death long ago, or Ghost, a name that had come from a joke once made aeons ago. You couldn’t help yourself, lightly teasing him when you had seen how pale his skin really was the one time he had taken a glove off. And somehow, it just stuck.

The both of you stay in silence for a bit, admiring the landscape around you, how slowly your power took over the terrain to give him some rest. You worked in harmony, the switching in seasons never feeling like a competition or betrayal, but like an acknowledgment of the other’s importance and significance.

“Haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?” He’s the first one to talk, giving you a short look before his attention was pulled to the birds that filled the sky. Most of them nesting, feeling in some way that your power would welcome them soon before giving them tiny ones to look after.

“Good, busy with the new blooms that come with spring.” you reply with a small smile, your hands running through the grass below, making new blades appear, greener and more luscious. “You must’ve been busy.” You tack on, your eyes following the trail of growing plants until your eyes find him.

“Hmm, you have some work ahead of you.” he concedes, tilting his head back, feeling what sunrays managed to filter through the holes in his mask. He let out a soft sigh before giving a light nod, “Been taking care of my duties, but it’s been good.”

“You’ll be able to rest a bit more. Now that the warm months are coming in.” You say, that smile still on your face. It definitely was what fascinated him most about you. He knew the amount of power you beheld, all the things you could make appear out of thin air. Yet there was something about that smile, that soft and kind smile that you always seemed to gift him with.

Or at least that’s how he wanted to see it, like your sweet smile was specially directed at him, for him. If there was one thing that he pictured on his mind whenever he thought about you, it was the upturn of your lips. Not even your mightier creations could ever compare to the one of your smile.

“I suppose I did, yes.” He says with a light nod, his tone low and gravely but really calm as well, like deep calm water. His head then turned, your view of his mask turning from the profile to a full fronted one. His cold and cloudy almost-grey eyes finding yours. “Are you enjoying your creations?”

The corner of your eyes crinkled a bit more as they landed on his, your smile brightening, reminding him of the golden hues the sun gets when it starts to set behind the horizon. Your hand moves, fingers trailing through the dirt beneath you. Tips passing just enough power to the small buds that were starting to grow to make them fully bloom. “Always do.” Your tone sounding sweet and golden like honey.

A smile took over his lips and he mentally thanked the skull covering them, although the amused glint your eyes got told him that you had definitely noticed. “I’m glad to hear it.” He says, tone as cordial and gravely as ever, hiding the small embarrassment of the knowing tilt your smile gets.

The both of you seeped into comfortable silence once again, you looking at the vast forest around you, the light hints of it filling with your creations again after a cold winter. Meanwhile he busied himself as he looked over his scythe, his gloved finger lightly trailing the sharp edge.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” He murmurs, almost making you wonder if he had actually spoken as his eyes stay trained on his tool.

“You know I never do.” You reassure, your eyes only staying on him for a moment before going back to the light ripples on the water source in front of you.

“I was wondering…” he starts before cutting himself off. You don’t say anything, don’t pressure him as he leaves the scythe back on the floor beside him. Nor as he tilts his head back to look up at the sky once more. And he doesn’t think he could ever find the words to express how thankful he is about it.

He clears his throat, daring to give it another chance. His head tilts a bit to the side, only enough to see you from the corner of his eye. “I was just wondering, we’ve worked together for so long…” he fully turns his head now, his eyes meeting yours. “And yet… you’ve never asked to see me? See what’s under my mask.”

For someone who was the personification of Death, Ghost couldn’t understand how his heart could beat so fast. How it felt like it could leap out of his chest at any moment, how fast his blood pumped through him.

And it feels like it instantly stops when he sees you lightly shaking your head, “It’s not my place to ask, I'm sure it’s there for a reason.” your soft voice explains. And he lets out a shaky breath that he didn’t know he was holding, his heartbeat slowing a bit but the tension still in his body as he gives a light nod back.

The both of you go back to the silence, but this time your eyes stay on each other's. His hand slowly reaches up, his fingers feeling the edge of the worn out bone. His voice is barely perceptible when he talks next, “What if I wanted to show you?”

#cod x reader #x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x oc #x oc #cod x you #ghost x you #death!ghost #oc: Life #death x reader #death x life

[bi-writes]

hello 🐝!! hope ur doing well, luv!

was thinking about bff!roommate!simon loving readers food. the reader starts baking and cooking for fun and uses simon as a test subject to rate the food LOL. reader's food slowly becoming one of his comfort things and maybe him risking cooking for/with them

just pureeee fluff!!

had this idea while looking at my burnt brownies LMFAO

wish ya the best ⚡

this is so sweet. this came out much angst-ier than i intended lol.

more bff!roommate!simon (part 7/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, simon is big 👁️👁️, the mask doesn't come off, aNgSt and LoNgInG

it's one of the first dinners that simon spends with you in your new apartment. he has never lived in a home that he didn't hate coming back to.

when he was a child, he feared his father. when he was an adult, he feared the loneliness and the quiet; it left room for the thoughts in his head to manifest and grow claws. but now, he found himself in the back of a car after deployment without dread in his chest.

when he steps into the foyer, the apartment is warm. there is no dust on the forgotten, bare counters. there is no screaming, no crying, no hushed voices and angry eyes. there is a warm yellow glow throughout the apartment; the lights you have put up since he left cast such a comforting shadow across the inviting furniture, the pictures you've hung on the wall are happy, the books you've put away and the candles you've lit are familiar.

and there's a smell. something smells so good. he closes the door behind him and locks it, setting his bag down. he follows the sounds coming from the kitchen. there's the sound of something simmering, cutlery hitting a wooden cutting board.

when he emerges into the kitchen, something in his chest constricts. you've got your bottom lip between your teeth as you concentrate on peeling some potatoes, trying to be careful not to nick the tip of your finger. there's a pot on the stove, a low fire lit as something cooks. there's more candles, a glass of wine there, a neat mess of vegetable scraps and ingredients.

he doesn't know what to call it; the taste of the word in his mouth sounds something like home.

"simon!"

and there's your smile. a bright, shimmering thing that comes over your face, relief in those gorgeous eyes and glossiness in your gaze as you hold back the excited tears you're overwhelmed with. you drop the knife you were using, hurrying around the counter to greet him, and simon grunts as your arms fling around his neck, bringing him down to your level as you hug him tight. there it is again--something tight and mean in his chest, something that feels good but something he can't say out loud.

"y-you're home--" you pull back gently. "you're back."

you smile, and simon catches the tear that escapes before it can run down your cheek.

"w-welcome home," you whisper, and you mean it, and his breath is stuck in his throat because something was waiting for him here, and it is you, and you are perfect.

"'ello, luv," he murmurs. "somethin' smells nice."

"yeah, i--" you sniffle, taking his arm and bringing him into the kitchen. simon is still fully dressed in his gear, sturdy jeans with holsters fastened around his thighs, a thick belt, a tactical vest tight around his broad torso. you pick up a tasting spoon, dipping it into the stew and holding it up to him. "tell me how it tastes. i'm...trying something new."

simon meets your eyes from under the mask before he lifts up the fabric slightly. you don't pay attention to the corrugated skin you see, the discoloration; you just smile and feed him the spoon.

he closes his eyes gently. he has been living on ready-made meals in the field and the food prepared in the mess halls. the food isn't bad--but it isn't made like this. it doesn't come with an angel feeding it, it doesn't come with an apartment filled with peace, it wasn't made with that unspoken thing that is shared between the walls of this place.

it tastes wonderful. it's warm, and it sits so nice in his stomach, and simon wants more immediately.

"still needs some time, got to get the potatoes done," you say, as if reading his mind. "it'll give you some time to wash up."

and when he comes back, you're still there. he blinks; this isn't a dream. you're still in the kitchen, asking him how he's feeling, your hair in front of your eyes as you pick up plates and bowls and more things you must have picked up when he was gone--what the fuck is going on?

who's house am i in?

what kind of fucking dream is this?

when do i wake up--when does this all get taken away from me? because i don't fuckin' deserve this--ghosts don't eat--ghosts don't get to live, and they don't get to share these memories, and they don't get to fall in lo--

"simon," you say softly, putting a small bowl into his gloved hands. his dark eyes fall, focusing on the curve of your lips and the softness of your skin and the way you feel in front of him. "ready to eat?"

yes. yes, yes, yes--

simon has been waiting all his for this feeling. the domesticity of home, the familiarity of not being alone, the serenity in something not unknown. and this would not last--he knows this deep in his bones. dead men do not get to savor these moments; he knows his demon will come to collect the time he's stolen, but for now, he will sit at the table he shares with you, drink in the warmth that you bring. he will listen to the gentleness of your voice, and he will fight tears one day in the field trying to remember exactly how you sound at this exact moment in time.

and he will try again to keep this feeling. he will pick a day that you work, a day when you are gone, and he will try and recreate the homecoming you gave him. he will fuck it up--of course he will, because simon was never taught how to love someone else like this. but somehow, he knows you won't care.

you will look at him the way you're looking at him now--simon puts the stars in the sky, the moon into orbit, gravity in motion, he brings the heat of the sun and the snow in the winter, and maybe he doesn't do this with the world you live in, but he does it with whatever lives inside of you, and it's enough for you to know that this is all that matters.

his hand along your thigh, his eyes on yours, the thing that is stuck between his teeth that he won't say but that you can feel in the air.

the thing between you that follows you, even when you go to bed that night in separate rooms. the thing that keeps you up at night knowing he is just across the hall, that he's right there, he's right fucking there--

he's right there.

so why can't i just have him?

#ask #ask b #cinerxria #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty

[christinarowie332]

stupid horny fucks .

chris sturniolo x reader (smut)

warnings: accidental dick pic lmao . smut ovs ? quick fuck . possible angst if u squint . possible series . not proof read

in which : chris accidentally sends his bestfriend a none PG photo …….. resulting in tears of tension being released…. but was it a mistake?

ps : don’t send unsolicited nudes , it’s weird as fuck . this is heavily fiction . don’t be a weirdo .

————

the room was a calm environment, me , nick, matt and chris all sat in dim lighting from the tv , my legs sprawled over nicks lap on the couch as we all relax in our shared space. this was a normal night for us all , a movie in the background, snacks and drinks arrayed out as we all engage in absent minded easy conversations. chris was quieter tonight. i notice as i allways do , subconsciously focussed on him , it’s hard not to be when your surrounded by things that remind you of him , and of course himself . i’ve always felt wierd with chris . it’s not all the time . 70% of the time he’s just an annoying, loud , funny , sweet friend . same with nick and matt . but that 30% , that’s something even chris himself couldn’t get out of me . god he’s attractive. the way his legs are spread , his sweatpants pressing against his dick , the shadow of his bulge basically begging to be touched. his fluffy hair , swept against his features , the loose curls lightly lay on his forehead. his sharp facial features being illuminated by his phone screen as he looks down to it , his pink lips puckered as he concentrates. god everything about him just makes my skin crawl , goosebumps literally growing on the skin of my arms at the thoughts that run through my head. the way his veiny hands would look around my neck. the low tank top he’s wearing , and how his sleek collarbones would feel on my lips . fuck .

i cross my legs on nicks lap , squeezing them together to relieve the growing tension between them . nicks head turns towards me , his confused expression catching my attention. “you good?” he asks , shifting himself on the sofa , his voice making matt and chris glance over at us .

“i’m fine , just getting comfortable” i send him a reassuring smile after speaking , all three of the brothers attention going back to the tv or phones . thank god . i try to distract myself from my thoughts (chris), pulling my phone from beneath my body on the cushioned seat . i open snapchat and start scrolling through my recent snaps , random guys , my friends , team snapchat (wow i have no life) . i start snapping them back , ceilings , selfies . chris . i open his snap and it’s just a normal photo of him , sexy as fuck ,but just a normal face snap , i send him one back and carry on with the rest of them .

after a while , i’m watching a instagram reel and get a chat notification from chris . i look up at him with furrowed eyebrows. “chris i’m literally in the same room as you why are u snapping me ?” i ask , waving my hand around with my phone in its grasp . he doesn’t look at me as he responds, his thumb still lazily scrolling on his phone. i roll my eyes beofre opening the chat . said eyes basically fall out of my head when i open it . i audibly gasp and my head shoots towards chris , making literally everyone look at me .

“sorry.” i replies to their stares , i watch all three of their attentions go back to their original places , before chris’s head snaps towards me , his eyes wide and jaw muscles clenched . the photo he sent me , was probably the last thing i ever thought i would see . his dick . in all it’s glory , veins decorated up the shaft , towards his tip , pre cum dripping down the side . it was fucking huge . i look down at my now vibrating phone in my hand , chris frantically texting me .

chris | I DIDNDTTT MENBA TO SEND THET

: DONT FUCKIJG SAY ANYTHING.

: Y/N

: OLESSE

: THAT WAS NOT MEANT FOR YOU

: bro i’m so sorry

: please just forget u saw that

: nah im actually sorry

it takes me a few seconds to contain myself . before i decide to text him back .

me | chris bro it’s literally fine .

chris | i’m so sorry

: i’m acc so sorry

me | chris .

: i said it’s fine .

chris | are u sure ? i’m so fucking sorry .

me | why are u sorry ???? that’s a nice ass dick .

why the fuck would i say that . chris’s bitmoji stops typing . and just stays still for a while before i see a new message.

chris | my room . five mins .

me | i’m going now . follow me idfc

i immediately get up from my seat , throwing to phone to the sofa and twlling the boys i’m going to bed . i make it to chris’s room in seconds , leaving the door open and waiting for him there . it’s a minute until i watch him speed into the room and slam the door behind him , walking towards me and grabbing my neck to slam his lips onto mine .

the kiss is fast and needy , clothes being torn off as our lips collide and tongues explore each others mouths . he leads me to the bed in just his boxers , and unclips my bra before dropping me onto his mattress . he watches the recoil from the springs in his bed make my tits bounce , a small smirk playing on his lips beofre climbing on top of me and attaching his mouth onto my neck .

he pries out small wimpers as he bites and sucks on my skin , leaving bruises up to my ear and over my chest , my hips thrusting forwards to reach his bulge , aiming for any friction as the tingling between my thighs intensifies .

“are you sure ?” he breathes into my neck , it’s like all i’ve been relying on is pure instinct, his words barley make it into my head and i’m drunk in his touch . “yes fuck , just hurry up and fuck me” i reply, lurching my hands to his face and bringing him up from my chest, reattaching our lips . his fingers make his way to my clothed pussy , his middle finger drawing circles over my swollen clit . his muscles contort as he moves , curved shadows against his pale skin . the veins running up his forearm from his slender fingers .perfectly smooth and sharp at the same time . “so needy……” he says moving his fingers upwards before putting them under my underwear, running his cold finger between my folds . “and so fucking wet” he continues, making his way to my clit with his fingers , making me lift into his touch and moaning at the sensation. he continues his movements placing his knee forward towards my heat , slowly prying my legs open so he has better access , slowly increasing the speed making me a whimpering mess underneath him .

he pulls his fingers away and swiftly takes off his boxers , pumping his dick a couple of times before placing the tip at my entrance and running it through my folds . “are u one hundred perfect sure?” he asks , i nod frantically, readjusting my self underneath him making myself comfortable. “words baby , you know i would love to fuck you sensless but right now i need your words”

“YES CHRIS JUST FUCK ME”. i raise my voice , i see his eyes flicker and an eyebrow raise before he slams into me , a smirk growing on his face as he watches me sink into the bed , all confidence gone as he pounds into me. “JESUS FUCK , fuck” i allmost scream as he thrusts into me, my hands slapping his back , nails digging into his back at the feeling .

his hair flops against his forehead at each thrust , groans and heavy breathing falling from his lips. his hands hold his up as he towers over me , silencing my own cries of pleasure with his mouth on mine still sloppily placing kisses on my lips before moving down my neck. “your doing so well , i’m so close baby i’ve wanted this for so- fuck” he breathes out as he keeps thrusting , each minute pulling energy and sweat from our body’s as we both edge closer to our release . my hands hold his shoulders pulling myself into him to deepen his reach into me , feeling his ruthless abuse of my g spot , not allowing any thoughts to come from my brain . quite literally fucking me senseless .

“FUCK , chris i’m so close , CHRIS don’t stop please” i plead to him , making his speed pick up . “me too mama me too , come baby please” he says as his finger moves towards my clit , the circles matching his thrusts as he eggs my release on . i feel his dick twitch inside of me , at this i feel myself completely release around him , loud moans being silence as his hand rests on my throat as he kisses me through my orgasm . moments later i feel him also topple over the edge fulling out and feeling warm strings of cum coat my stomach and chest .

he flops down next to , his chest heaving and loose curls wet slightly around his neck with sweat .

“what the fuck just happened” i say looking over to him

he just stares at the ceiling .

what the fuck just happened .

————

i’m so drunk rn this is such a mess .

————

taglist :

@mangosrar @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @kvtie444 @kenzieiskoolaid @cabincorematt @urmyslxt @chrisenthusiast @mattsd0ll @iheart2021chris @recklesssturniolo @lovingsturniolo @loveesiren @paper-crab @daddyslilchickenfingers @strniohoeee @ermdontmindthisaccount @sturnphilia @bluesturniolo333 @lea0518 @chrisolivia4l @its-jennarose @kitaysworld @liz-stxr @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @mattslolita

———

side note : i love u all sm , like acc . sorry for the delay in the fics but i hate posting shit that’s half assed or rushed , and i like to make sure that my shits realistic to the boys . you know ? hope y’all still love me LMAO !!!

-🍼

#chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #milkietalks #chris sturniolo x reader #milkie is down bad #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo imagines #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut

[frannyzooey]

Silence

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Joel makes a silent promise.

—

This is something quiet, something needed, something necessary.

Your lives ruled by survival these days, this is no different. It’s as needed as air, the sustenance you find in each other’s mouths.

There is a fire: a small one, the light unable to reach the far corners of the room and so your moving shadows pool there instead; a rhythmic, repetitive joining of figures on the wall.

There is little sound — only harsh panting, scrapes of boots against the worn wooden floor and softened whimpers swallowed by low groans. Just two bodies attempting to sate an ache they’ve had all day — all week — but never feeling safe enough to give in.

It’s safe now, and so you do.

Your knees dig into the unforgiving hard floor in your straddle on his lap, his own thighs cushioning your ass with every roll of your hips downward and his roughened hands grasp your skin, one sliding under your shirt to splay over your lower back, the other cradling the nape of your neck in a fierce hold.

Your fists twist and clench the soft, faded fabric of his denim shirt, seeking to anchor yourself to him as he strokes something deep inside that threatens to overcome your senses, and when you grind down on the stiff weight of his cock, the guttural groan he lets out is muffled by your hungry mouth.

The strands of his grey tinged beard slide under your palms when you cradle his cheeks, your fingers slipping up into the untidy swirl of his curls and he can feel your thighs start to tremble around his hips, your cunt clutching him wet and tight. So fucking tight still, for as many times as he’s taken you like this.

You would murmur his name brokenly into his mouth if you could form words right now, but instead your eyes shut tight in their focus on the way he feels so full inside you.

As a man of few words himself, it’s okay because he doesn’t need to hear you say it. He can feel it in the way you seek him out with a desperate need. Can feel it with every press of your mouth, with every clutch of your grip, with the way you wind your limbs around him and he takes it all, his hands reassuring in their greedy touch.

He’s got you. He always does.

–

The want had been a simmering thing that you tried to ignore for as long as you could remember.

He had taken you in and given you shelter, and on that very first night, while you should have been occupied with thoughts of trusting him, you couldn’t stop watching his hands.

The competent way he moved them: handling his supplies, packing his bag, loading a gun, fixing you food.

He didn’t ask too many questions and that was okay, because you had been too tired to give him any answers. After you ate, he let you curl up in his worn couch and sleep.

The first time you gave in was a night similar to this one: in a used, musty house, in a nondescript room that used to belong to someone but now belonged to no one. You had been agitated, frustrated, your need for him seeping into your every pore and coming out in harsh replies to his low drawl and so, on an instinct, he kissed you.

His mouth caught yours, his lips dry, but soft. Plush, and warm, and molding against yours with his own hidden hunger that had been growing inside him, he had backed you into the wall and his hands — marred with the marks of a recent fight — spanned your cheeks, holding in you place.

Starting with a brutal, rough kiss and ending with a slick warmth running down between your thighs as he spent himself on your skin, you laid still as he wiped it off with a dusty rag he kept tucked in his back pocket.

You had looked at each other then, unsure of what was next. This new facet of your relationship, too big for words, the weighted silence of the pressed in — and so you said nothing, and neither did he.

—

His breath is a humid, rapid pant into your mouth, bursts of warmth skimming between your lips and over your tongue and you’re breathing him in, your lips catching his between thrusts.

His groans are strained, taut with arousal and the need to be quiet and when he can’t, he buries his face and lets them loose into the plane of your chest, your heart thrumming right underneath the low rumble. Absorbing your stress and your adrenaline and your need, he pulls it from your body with every touch of his fingers, sliding his hand down the dip of your spine until it splays over the swell of your ass and he makes you fuck yourself on him until you’re so full that he pushes everything else out.

His muscles shake with effort, his arms squeezing you as tightly as possible to bury himself as deep as he can and you let out a sob, your face twisting with a pleading, desperate need in the dark.

“Shhhh,” he scolds tenderly, the sound a long, drawn out shaky thing as he watches where you’re joined with hooded eyes.

His knuckles are white in their grip, just like on his gun earlier today and his hands skate roughly over every inch bare skin he can find. Pushing up under your dirty clothes, you’re sweat slick under his palm as he rests it over the meat of your hip with a harsh grip.

Harder, he presses and guides. He wants it harder.

There will be a bruise there tomorrow, you can already feel it forming in the shape of his hand. It will join the rest of the battered marks on your skin; some from existing, most from him.

“Joel,” you inhale sharply, a keening whine slipping out from your chapped lips that are pressed together in an attempt to stay quiet and when you come, he knows he should pull out before he comes too, but that ship has sailed long ago.

“Fuck,” he groans, a strained, broken, husky whisper into the dark room and the two of you are momentarily locked tightly together as he swells and spills inside you; the two shadows on the wall merging as one.

–

The fire crackles, the fading light getting dimmer. It’s just enough to keep some of the shadows at bay, just enough to find each other in the dark.

“What’s gonna happen to us?” Your clothes buttoned back into place, you whisper the words into the crook of his shoulder and when he doesn’t reply, you aren’t sure if he heard them.

You stay silent instead of pressing him, unsure if you’re ready to think about his answer anyway.

He has heard you though. He rolls onto his side, draping his arm over you and you tuck yourself into the reassurance of his embrace, the solidness of his body one of your only comforts.

“I don’t know,” he says after a deep sigh. His thumb follows the line of your spine and you close your eyes, sleep weighing your lids.

As you sleep, he looks at you. The ache in his chest at the sight of your face is something he stopped trying to fight long ago, but it doesn’t make it less harder to live with.

His jaw sets, a tick of muscle rolling under the skin.

He can’t say the words he’s thinking. He’s felt them and failed before, the weight of those failures taking root in his very being and pulling him deeper into the darkness every day.

The flickering light dancing across your face shines through only just to the heart of it and he can’t stop himself from making a promise — a silent one.

“But if it’s bad, I won’t let it.”

#joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller/you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us fanfiction

[moonbeamwritings]

♡ the post that started it all ♡

When you open the front door to your apartment and move to hang your coat up on the rack, you find Atsumu's MSBY jacket already draped on it, his gym sneakers left right below it.

You expect to hear the shower running or to find your boyfriend snuggled up on the couch, feet up on the coffee table and relaxing after practice. You even brace yourself to be pulled into a bone-crushing, feet-off-the-ground hug or to be attacked with a barrage of kisses. Instead, your apartment is quiet, eerily quiet. Atsumu's nowhere to be found.

"Baby?" you call, dropping your work bag on the floor and waiting for a response.

Nothing.

You try again. "'Tsumu?"

Toeing off your shoes, you wait again, movements stilling as you strain to listen for any signs of life. Your apartment isn't big, not large enough for your voice could get lost down the hall, anyhow. It's weird, you think. Maybe he's got headphones in or something.

The bathroom door is open when you pass it, the room dark. Not there, just as you expected. A light is on in the bedroom, casting a long shadow in the hallway, and the start of Atsumu's name dies on your lips just as you grip the door handle and gently push it the rest of the way open.

You find Atsumu flexing in front of your full length mirror, his shirt off and black gym shorts hiked up his legs, dangerously close to the crook of his thighs. And it's nothing you haven't seen before, of course not, but it's like you've stumbled upon a fine jewel, a shimmering crystal. You have no choice but to ogle him.

As if under some sort of spell, your eyes travel across the broad expanse of his shoulders, studying the intricate build of his back muscles. They follow the slim line of his waist, and you resist the desire to surge forward and grab it. Each part of him is distractingly well built, handsome in a way that reminds you of Grecian sculptures. He'd be one hell of a muse if you had any talent with a hammer and chisel.

What really steals your attention are the silken pink bows straining around the thickness of his thighs. It's obscene, the way he flexes and relaxes the muscles there, all wrapped up in pretty ribbons. You wonder if you need to start wiping drool from the corner of your mouth.

The first thing out of your mouth is a long, low whistle. "'S all this for me?"

Atsumu jumps, whipping around just as his phone drops to his side. "You-" His face burns, a blush scorching a rosy path along his cheeks and down his neck, up to the tips of his ears. Cute. "Yer home early!"

"Is that bad?" You creep over to him like a predator stalks its prey, taking slow, calculated steps. A coy smile plays on your lips.

"No!" His tone is an octave higher, more evidence of his embarrassment at being caught red-handed. He clears his throat. "No, of course not." A kiss lands on your lips the moment you're close enough.

"And what exactly were you doing with these?" Fingers travel down to brush across the ends of the bows. "They're so pretty."

"Well ya mentioned that trend, 'nd I thought it might be a nice surprise, since you've been workin' so hard and all." He shrugs. "Wasn't really expectin' ya to catch me takin' the pictures, though."

What a blessing Atsumu Miya is.

"Oh, baby," you coo, squishing his warm cheek in your palm, "aren't you the sweetest?" You eye him for a moment before kissing the corner of his mouth. "You look hot."

Any embarrassment morphs into pride in a blink at the praise. Atsumu's chest puffs, closing the space between you as a smirk starts to grow. "Oh yeah?"

"Mhm."

An arm curls around your waist just as his grin grows more mischievous. "And it's all for you." Atsumu's tone deepens, dropping an octave as he tells you, "Now ya get to enjoy the show live-" He kisses you then. "and in-person."

Your expression matches his, gaze flickering from his eyes to his lips. "Lucky me."

#thick thighs my beloved #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagine #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #hq x reader #hq imagine #atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff

[therealdogsinmymind]

✩ My Rival (All Mine) ✩

18+ MDNI

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

AO3 Link | Word Count: 2,394 | Chapters 1/1

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Synopsis: Sung Jinwoo pisses you off but maybe you've you've finally found a way to ruffle his feathers a little bit.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo/Reader, Sung Jinwoo/You

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Tags: Reader POV, Gender Neutral Reader, Virgin Sung Jinwoo, Jealous Jinwoo, Rivals to Lovers, Bickering, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Tenderness, Light Angst, Miscommunication, Conflict Resolution, Happy Ending

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Picture from @oo0mika0oo ‘s icon edits

“You piss me off,” you say under your breath, fully intending for him to hear it. He always fucking does. 

You don’t like Jinwoo, you never have. Not before you awakened as an S-Rank hunter and you saw him on TV and certainly not now that you know him personally. He’s got shitty vibes and an even worse personality. He’s closed off, and you can smell his fucking god complex from a mile away. 

“Good to know,” Jinwoo says coolly, taking a sip of his water. You don’t know why he needs it, he hasn’t even broken a sweat, despite the fact that he’s been running circles around everyone in the training arena for hours. Just to show off, you suppose. He’s kicked almost everyone’s ass so far, sans for yours. You really don’t feel like going up against him though, you’d like your ass to remain un-kicked, thank you. There’s also some cards you’d rather keep close to your chest; but god you wish you could rub his face in the dirt just once. 

As Jinwoo lingers against the wall next to you, head turned just barely so you’re in his line of sight, you grow increasingly agitated. Why the fuck did he come over here? Why is he looking at you? What’s his deal? He’s always doing this, he’ll follow you around just to piss you off. You swear he started going to the only coffee shop you like just to torment you with his extremely pretty, extremely punchable face. As your irritation reaches max cap you decide it’d be better to just take a deep breath and walk away, you don’t need to get into a pissing contest with this guy, you’re better than that. You’ll be taking your leave now.

You spring up, intent on heading for the door when Jinwoo calls after you, ”You don’t want a round?” Yeah, no. 

You turn around briefly, still walking backwards towards the door. ”With you? No. I can think of better things to do with my time.” You take a little pleasure in the way Jinwoo looks slightly shocked at your rebuff. You turn around and pick up the pace, hoping to get the hell out of dodge. 

Suddenly Jinwoo’s in front of you, blocking the door, having somehow appeared out of the shadows. ”Fuck!” You startle, you didn’t know he could do that, is there anything he can’t do? 

“The better things, what are they?” Jinwoo asks, staring at you intently as if your face will reveal the answer.

”What?”

”What are the better things?” He repeats.

”I don’t know, dude? Get laid? Not that you would know anything about that.” It doesn’t even occur to you until his face twists, all sorts of emotions that you’ve never seen on him. They mar his usually such impassive features; he’s jealous. You said it as a joke, really more than anything wanting to call him a virgin, but this is too good.  You have to hold in a laugh, it’s almost unthinkable, you have an antagonistic relationship with him at best. It intrigues you though, you wonder if you could push his buttons like this, he’s usually so unconcerned with others.

When Jinwoo doesn’t reply right away you take that as your cue, needling him, “Anyway- I do actually want to get fucked sometime today, so if you’ll excuse me…” You have no such plans but you wave your hand at him dismissively anyway, just to be a bitch. 

His face stays twisted but he doesn’t otherwise react so you push harder. Leaning in close to him and speaking low so as to not be overheard, “Unless you want to see to that.” It’s just to throw him off his game, you just want to see him gape like a fish, or maybe sputter, curse you out, anything. You’ve thought about what Jinwoo might be like in bed before of course, who hasn’t, a simple curiosity if you will. That’s neither here nor there, you’re truly just aiming to rile him up at this point; surely any second now he’ll reel back and run away.

 Instead Jinwoo grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the training arena. All that comes out of your mouth is a grunt, too worried about making a scene. Although maybe you should, where the hell is he taking you and why? He says nothing, simply dragging you down the hallway until he seems to sense an empty room where he promptly tosses you in; and for all your agility and grace you still land right on your ass. Great.

He shuts the door behind him just as you’re springing up, ready for a fight. That’s the only reason you can think he dragged you out here, to kick your ass away from prying eyes, the room is kind of small though, maybe he’s just that overconfident. You decide you won’t let him throw the first punch but it’s too late, Jinwoo’s fast, faster than you. You’ve barely had any real combat training as a new hunter and he’s the real deal. He’s in your space before you can even blink and you’re sure he’s about to beat you to a pulp. However no pain comes, there’s only a horrible sense of too-quick motion and then you’re seated firmly, feeling a bit dizzy. It takes you all but a moment to realize you’re sitting on Jinwoo’s lap, he seems to have scooped you up and sat down on a couch; you must be in someone’s office. 

“I’ll be seeing to that now,” Jinwoo says in a low voice, giving a healthy pause before he moves at all, perhaps to let your brain catch up with his words. 

It sure tries its best, running at a million miles a minute. You think about the fact that you hate Jinwoo, he’s fucking annoying, he’s stupid as shit. Your mind screams at you that he’s too powerful, it's dangerous, you shouldn’t get close. He’s too confident even if he can back it up, it’s kind of hot. You ignore that last part, you don’t who said that. However you also have eyes, he’s really fucking good looking and maybe if Jinwoo wants to fuck you so bad you can make him work for it a little.

You slip out of his arms and off of his lap. You don’t even dream of laughing at the poorly concealed heartbroken look on his face; it’s actually kind of sad to see. You click your tongue before sliding back onto his lap but this time straddling him.

“Come now, don’t make that face, I'm just getting comfortable,” you coo at him, stroking your thumb across Jinwoo’s cheek, it’s oddly tender for what the two of you have. He just looked so sad. He leans into it and it makes you want to be nice to him again, disgustingly enough. You lean in and give Jinwoo a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, deciding to kiss him more when he sigh softly, happily. You’ve never heard him make that noise, it’s entirely new to you, you wonder what kinds of other new sounds you can drag from him. More kisses, one on each of his cheeks, and again on the corners of his lips, missing the true mark purposefully. Jinwoo audibly swallows and his arms wrap loosely and hesitantly around your back. It appears all of his earlier confidence has sapped right out of him. You wonder if you were right on the money when you said he doesn’t know anything about getting laid.

You press a kiss to his jaw and linger there. “Jinwoo,” you whisper softly against his skin and he shudders. That’s cute, but you must stay focused, you have to ask, “Have you done this before?”

Jinwoo stiffens, “Define…’this’...”

“Fuck someone, baby.” He whines a little at the pet name and you make mental note of that. “Have you ever fucked someone before? Been with anyone? Made out? Kissed? What are we working with here?” 

He clears his throat and turns his head away from you as his cheeks go red. You groan and drop your forehead onto his shoulder. You were just going to mess with him a little, kiss him a bit and leave him wanting more; but there’s no shot in hell you’re going to fuck up his first time. He deserves someone better than you for that, someone he actually likes. You have to ignore the way that thought stabs you in the heart so badly you can barely breathe. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” you say, your forehead still resting against his shoulder, “We can’t do this.” 

“Oh,” Jinwoo says, voice flat, devoid of any emotion, truly reminiscent of the closed-off man that you so often see. His hands fall away from your back and you wince at the way he shuts down. 

“Hey,” you pour as much emotion into your voice as possible, “I promise it’s not you.” You tuck your head into Jinwoo’s neck and squeeze him tightly. You wonder if he can still breathe like this, you feel like you can’t despite nothing restricting you. “When you find someone you like you’ll be glad we didn’t do this.” He says nothing so you pull back to take a hesitant look at his face. Jinwoo looks angrier than you’ve ever personally seen him. 

“Already did.”

He grabs you by the face with both hands and before you can figure out if you heard him right, Jinwoo crushes your lips together too hard and too fast. However once your lips are touching he hesitates for a second, unsure of what to do next. Well, apparently you heard him right, and his hasty kiss answers all of your follow up questions about what he said, go figure. 

You can’t just leave him hanging, so you kiss him back like your life depends on it. All in all it’s a crappy kiss. Your teeth clack together painfully, he can’t seem to find a rhythm with you, and you bump noses incessantly too. Despite all this you can’t fucking stop kissing him; you don’t think you could even if the world was ending. Jinwoo pulls back after a bit, gasping, apparently no one ever taught him how to breathe.

You grab Jinwoo by his hair, “Breathe through your nose, dipshit.” Using your hold on his hair you pull him back into another kiss, delighting in his shocked moan. This kiss is slightly better, he seems to be learning quickly. Jinwoo wraps his arms around you again and grasps at the back of your shirt, you worry if he pulls any harder he might tear it. That could be hot though, an idea for later. 

This time you pull back first and Jinwoo emits an uncharacteristically pathetic whine in response. “Shh.”

 You press kisses up his jaw, before sucking a mark directly below his ear. You’ve never known anyone to leave a scratch on Jinwoo, maybe you’ll be the first. The thought fuels something new and feral in you. You begin covering his throat in as many marks as you possibly can, something delightful burning inside of you when you see each new bruise forming. You want him covered, you want everyone to know that this stupid man, this dangerous, closed off man is yours. Nobody else is allowed to see Jinwoo a mess like this, this is for your eyes only. That’s all you’ve ever really wanted, isn’t it?

“Jinwoo…” you whisper, your breath fanning across the spit-slick marks you’ve just made on his throat. 

Jinwoo shudders beneath you, “Yeah?”

“We are not fucking in a stranger’s office.” Just on so many levels that is not happening.

He sags into the couch like a puppet that just had all of its strings cut. “I truly hate you sometimes…” he says with absolutely no malice, in fact it sounds kind of whiny and you have to hold in a giggle. 

“Until about ten minutes ago, I was under the impression that you hated me all the time.”

Jinwoo scoffs and runs his hand up your side gently, “I don’t hate you ever, you’re just really annoying.”

You rub a thumb over one of his blossoming bruises, admiring your hard work. “Awww thanks, you’re also a real fuckin’ peach.”

“I do try.”

You roll your eyes, patting him on the head now that you know he won’t kill you for doing that, “Come on, you can fuck me in my bed later. I’m dying to know if I can fit your dick in my throat.” The last bit is tacked on with a pointed wiggle of your hips, just so you can feel Jinwoo’s cock straining against his pants. God, he’s such a virgin, it’s painfully cute. You absolutely would give him a quick hand job here just to help him out but it’s so much funnier not to. 

Jinwoo’s hips twitch and he groans deeply, the sound reverberating in his chest, “Fuck you-” 

“Happy to help!” Being a hindrance is your favorite activity, especially when it’s Jinwoo you’re hindering. You can’t believe you’ve finally found his weak spot. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you are…”

“Aww, I’m sorry baby,” you say, voice thick with condescension, “I promise I’ll make it up to you later, just be patient.” You press a quick kiss to his lips before you slip off his lap. He sighs, folding over and dropping his head into his hands.

“You’re a nightmare…”

“Yeah but I think you might like that about me… Just a hunch.” You’re not actually sure if that’s true or not. You’re not sure of anything anymore. Really where the two of you stand now is a total mystery, but the soft laugh Jinwoo warms your chest, and that’s something isn’t it?

With a soft tone Jinwoo says, “Get out of here, menace.”

“Yeah, yeah… Hey- see you later?” Your words come out as a question, quiet and hopeful.

He sits up and looks at you, the corners of his lips quirked up. “See you later,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Of course, you almost forgot, ever since you came here it’s been that way hasn’t it? Where you go he follows and vice versa, he’s your rival after all, what would you do without him?

#solo leveling #sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #only i level up #solo leveling x reader #sung jin woo #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung headcanons #jinwoo sung x you #jinwoo x reader #solo leveling fanfic #solo leveling headcanons #solo leveling jinwoo #Zephyrs Stories

[writinghotchner]

fandom: criminal minds pairing: hotch x fem!reader (could be read as hotch x oc, i guess) rating: M (nsfw) words: 1,224

read below, or on ao3.

insomnia has once again webbed its way through her brain and shattered through her eyelids. it's nothing new, she's dealt with it most of her life. with an annoyed, tired sigh, she turns fully onto her side to face her boyfriend letting her eyes scan his sleeping face as puffs of his breath fans across her nose. she sighs again, frustrated that she can't sleep and that he can. just as she's about to fling the blanket off of herself and stomp to the living room to be grumpy on the couch, he cracks an eye to look at her. she immediately huffs out a laugh.

"did i wake you?"

he clears his throat and rolls onto his back, stretching his body a little. "i felt you staring at me." he turns to look at the clock on his nightstand. two a.m.

she laughs at that, reaching over to palm his cheek, it hits him with a soft unpainful smack. "i'm sorry. i was admiring your ability to sleep."

he rolls back onto his side, wiggling a little closer to her. "can't sleep?"

she sighs. "no, my brain won't shut up long enough."

he hums his response, his eyes slipping closed again.

"aaron..."

his eyes open slowly to look at her. "hm?"

"help me fall asleep...?" she studies his face as well as she can in the dimly lit room, but she sees him crack a grin, his eyes coming to life.

"how do you suppose i do that?" his voice is still rough with sleep sending shivers down her spine, igniting the fire already growing deep in her belly.

without saying anything, she reaches for his left hand and guides it slowly towards her already throbbing center. she lifts her right leg up a little to give him room and he automatically palms the entirety of her, the warmth of his large hand making the heat already boiling between her legs unbearable.

"god, baby, please.." she chokes out in a whisper, but he keeps slowly, lightly, running his hand over her.

"please what?"

she throws him a pointed look and he grins. "i want your fingers inside m-"

before she can even finish that sentence, he skims his fingers up over her mound, and then wiggles them under her panties, brushing through her trimmed pubes. he doesn't pull her lips apart like she's dying for him to, instead he rests his entire palm on her pubic bone and lets his fingers play softly at her opening, feeling how hot and wet she already was. she squirms under him, clenching helplessly at nothing. he chuckles. "already so wet, hm? were you planning on waking me up or were you going to take care of this yourself?"

she huffs out something between a breathy laugh and a moan as she reaches under the blankets to grip at his wrist. "you're killing me here, babe."

"oh, we can't have that, can we?" he says and then quickly presses his two middle fingers down and then up, pulling her lips open and then stopping to press the tips of them against her clit. she squirms against his hand even more, her bottom lip caged between her teeth.

"aaron hotchner, i swear to god," she pants, the grip on his wrist tightening.

he props his head up on his right hand so he can look down at her, the street light from outside barely shining into the room so he can see the shadows of her face. she looks up at him right when he starts moving his fingers in small circles. she licks her lips and lets them fall apart to suck in a breath.

he speeds up his movements, watching as her face as it contorts with pleasure, her chest rises and stutters, an annoyed yet pleasurable groan leaving her throat.

"baby, please," she nearly chokes out. he chuckles to himself, loving that he can do this to her - make her beg and moan.

a few more deep pressure circles to her clit and he slides his fingers down to her opening and presses inside of her slowly. "is this what you want?" his voice is low and teasing and she can practically hear the grin on his face through her now closed eyes. he uses the heel of his hand to press back into her clit and her leg twitches.

the grip on his wrist moves down to grab the back of his hand, her fingers over his, and she makes him push himself deeper into her. her fingers brushing against her own entrance with the movement.

"jesus, fuck, god," she cries out, squeezing her eyes closed. his fingers are thick and always fill her up the way she needs, especially when he uses two. he sets a slow steady pace, pressing them as deep as they can go and then drags them slowly almost all the way out of her before quickly sliding them back in to his knuckles. she squeezes her legs together, trapping their hands in place. she can feel the tendons in his hand every time he moves his fingers, and she grips his knuckles as he picks up the pace.

strangled moans fall from her lips as she moves her hips against him. he curls his fingers and holds it momentarily against the spongey tissue that makes her feral which causes her to immediately arch her back and release a guttural moan. when he starts to move his fingers again, picking up the pace even faster, she slides her right leg back so he can have more room to move his hand. he moves faster now, the wet slapping sound of his hand ramming into her and her strangled breaths filling the room.

it only takes a few more pumps and curls of his fingers before she's squeezing his knuckles tight. she presses her her own middle fingers into his, trying to push his fingers in farther as her orgasm sparks through her, her own two middle fingers slip in with his for a moment and she thrashes against him, her eyes still squeezed shut. he can feel her lower stomach spasming and it makes him bite his lip to stop his own pleasured sounds. her breath catches in her chest as her orgasm continues to static its way through her. he leans in closer to her, "breathe, honey."

a final strangled, broken moan leaves her throat and she sucks in a harsh breath, her body goes limp, and her hand falls away from his as she continues to breathe heavily. he doesn't remove his fingers right away, he leaves them buried inside of her, unmoving. she slowly opens her eyes and looks at him. "fuck," is all she can manage to croak get out.

"tired?" he asks, his voice strangled with his own wants now, but willing to go on if that's what she needs.

before she can answer he's pulling his fingers out of her and sliding them right back up to her clit. she can feel the gush of warmth follow his fingers out and it makes her moan again.

"are you?" she husks.

"wide awake." and with that he leans over and catches her mouth in a heated kiss as he moves his body on top of hers and settles between her parted, shaking legs.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x oc #hotch x you #hotch x reader #hotch x oc #*nsfw #*mine #*reader #*oc #listen - i havent written smut in so long lmao #hopefully someone out there enjoys it?? #*roadrunner sounds as i book it out of here*

[naffeclipse]

Have you seen anything about Lethal Company? The idea of your cryptid lads watching over and protecting y/n while y/n looks for scrap in their territory makes me smile. They always make sure Y/n meets their quota to avoid any repercussions with The Company

I have seen so much about Lethal Company and this ask makes me go crazy because AUGH I've been chewing on a sort of AU with the DCA in a Bracken-esque role but, perhaps, a bit more interested in Y/N than a monster otherwise would be.

You're just a measly intern. That's all too clear with how the company sends you the utmost dangerous moons searching for loot and scrap. The hauntingly empty facilities and lifeless manors hold the keys to fulfilling your quota for the week, but you're not alone.

On the occasions when you get separated from your crew or find yourself left behind, you feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, aware of something—someone watching you. You carry a piece of scrap that most likely isn't worth the effort (but how could you return empty-handed?) The sinking feeling that, as much as you dread isolation, it would be safer than the near-silent footsteps following just behind you.

Your mouth grows dry. The pulse in your ears begins drowning the metallic echo of your picked-up pace, and then panic takes hold. You burst into a run, racing for the door, and when you frantically grab the handle, a cold, long-fingered touch seizes the cloth at the back of your neck before you throw yourself outside.

In the dusty air of the moon, you turn back to the door, now slammed shut. You drop the scrap to touch the back of your neck—the orange jumpsuit is torn into ribbons just below your helmet. Claws, you think. Claws so close to grabbing your neck and never letting go.

The next day, with only your flashlight and a walkie-talkie, one of your fellow interns abruptly cuts off mid-sentence (was that a scream or just the static crackling?) Left without even a voice for the company, your skin prickles with full-body goosebumps under the eerie weight of eyes watching you.

You turn slowly to look up the stairway you had just descended. The air in your lungs freezes. You clutch the flashlight tighter. Your helmet system blinks across your vision.

New creature data sent to terminal!

In the darkness engulfing the upper platform stands a dark figure with two piercing, white eyes. You whip up your flashlight and beam it on the terrifying being, catching strange frond-like petals of yellow surrounding a flat, disk-like face. Rooted to the floor in terror, you stare. It tilts its head, petals ruffled, in a snap of agitation. It grumbles low in warning.

You drop the walkie-walkie and run deeper into the darkness, your flashlight beam swinging over the walls with the pounding of your steps echoing horrendously through the deep belly of the facility. The primal instincts of your mind take hold, impulses firing to stay alive.

You come to a dead end. A lone light flickers along the ceiling. Cornered, your palms slamming against the bricked wall as if you could push it down, you start to tremble. You turn back, back pressed against the wall, your helmet softly clanking against the stone.

The beam of your flashlight cuts off. You drop that, too. A whimper of fear escapes you when a shadow moves at the end of the long hallway. Though darkly swathed, pale eyes pinning you in place, the figure crouches, creeping forward on hands and knees. The petals about its face have shifted, dropping to the back of the head and swinging down like a tapered tail. You can't look away. The creature tips its head to one side, the appendage trailing over its shoulder like a nightcap. It grumbles low, displeased.

You turn your head away, pressing deeper against the wall. Your every heartbeat is a swing of a sledgehammer chipping away at your ribcage. Bile rises in the back of your throat.

Then silence.

You clench your hands. Slowly, you carefully lift your eyes and gaze at the end of the hallway.

It's gone. The sunflower face and now nightcap head creature vanish like a bad dream in the morning.

You don't move for several seconds, and when you finally straighten and hug your shaking self, you carefully make your way through the darkness. The sinister awareness of being watched doesn't leave. It never does. You find an emergency exit. A chance to live yet. You feel something cold and heavy standing at your back.

You reach for the door when a large hand grabs the back of your neck. A scream jams itself in your throat. Breathless, frozen, you stand very still. It squeezes lightly as if testing the bones of your spine. Its shadow falls over you. Its other hand enters the corner of your vision, reaching for your face as if to smother you through the helmet. It begins tugging on your throat, pulling you away from the door.

"Stay... friend..." it rasps near-silently.

The flashlight in your grip is heavy. Before the creature captures your head, you throw it back at the beast. Light flares when the plastic hits, sparking with one drop of juice still left, and then you rip yourself free. A quiet grunt of pain echoed under the flash. You throw yourself outside, only turning back to slam the door and unwittingly catch a glimpse of the creature clutching its face. Petals twist and writhe around and behind its head in a clash of its early appearances. Between its long fingers, a face, half yellow and half dark with a static grin peeking out at the corners, twists in shock.

The resounding shut of the door reverberates in your head. You escaped. You gasp and clutch your chest. Somehow, your heart is still within you, fluttering like an injured bird in front of a cat. Your system sent new information to the bestiary catalog.

You keep breathing and unsteadily make your way back to the ship, carrying the searing imprint of the monster's hand on the back of your neck.

#bracken!sun #bracken!moon #bracken!eclipse #lethal company au #definitely wasn't tempted to break your neck the first time no siree #he wasn't going to drag you into the darkness never to be seen again ha ha ha! #ha... #lethal company y/n at any given point: bruh how am i an essential worker

[astrologylunadream]

How This Connection Feels You vs Them👥🔗♡ (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hii beautiful souls, it's Lunadream. In this reading we will discover how this connection feels for you vs your person. hope you find your message♡🌠

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~🖤

Pile 1👥

Pile 2👟

Pile 3🛹

Pile 4🔊

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 💤

Pile 1👥

Sign energy: Mirror, Crave, Bottom, Cope, Turn on, Capricorn, Uranus, 6th house, North node, 9th house, 🤎🙏🦁🤷‍♀️

💭How this connection feels to you: Alright I'm getting some earthy vibes for you guys~ Capricorn, Aquarius, Virgo, and Sagittarius energies, Leo is present aswell and some of you could have Leo in 6th house so Pisces rising possibly. You are focused on the future of this connection, and you want to ensure a solid foundation to keep it growing and continuing. You need freedom this connection in order for your love to expand within it, but you may often feel low priority due to being less involved with your person. Some of my pile 1's are holding on to this connection despite the lack of care from their person.🥺 For most of my pile 1's I'm sensing your person appears more like the dominant one in the connection to you. I feel that you crave knowledge on this connection and want to know everything you can on where it's headed.🔮 I think you have a very carefree approach to this relationship but after a while you started to worry if you aren't engaging enough, and you may feel very insignificant in your person's life. Some of you are praying that you won't be forgotten in this connection, but you are uncertain of what's to come of it. To you, this person seems like a reflection of yourself in some ways especially when it comes to ambitions and goals for the future. I feel you want to experience many things in this connection but you may feel unable to do so.😔

🗨How this connection feels to them: Reflect, Price, Swim, Beauty & the beast, Adorable, Virgo, 5th house, 3rd house, Vertex, Water, 😁💡🏃‍♂️🍎 Okay so for your person's side of this connection, things are going much smoother in their eyes. I'm hearing "things are going swimmingly" Hahah I think they feel positive about where things are going with you guys😂😂 Omg they see you as a reflection of themselves too!!😊 They think you project yourself in a very cute way in the relationship, you could act in a way thay pleases them and they find that very adorable💗 They see beauty in your creativity and hobbies, especially your ideas. From their perspective, communicating with you is the hardest part in this connection, they may feel like they don't know enough about you. For some of you this person's mind is running in circles just trying to wrap their head around this connection with you😂🤣 I think they see things as fun and light energy with you, like a stream of water following it's current. They feel thay everything will just flow as they need to with you.🏞🖤

✉Messages from your person: You went too far, I want your lips on mine, It's immature, You need time, I wish I could read your mind, I can't stop looking at you, Imagine us together, I'll make it up to you (Aww so sweet🥺😔🙏) Extra cards: Greed, Facial expression, Distance, Practical, Self sabotage, Virgo, 12th house, Moon, Gemini, Pluto (Omg they know there's physical distance between you two rn but they can't stop thinking of you day after day😫💙🖤)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🌠

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the shadow couple emoji~👥 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🖤

Pile 2👟

Sign energy: Unheard, Careless, Explosion, Short, Audience, Juno, Virgo, 10th house, Jupiter, 9th house, 🍷🧊💄👿

💭How this connection feels to you: Ohh you guys have a very mature vibe in this connection, I'm getting hot vibes for sure🙈🖤 You may be short in height or your person makes you feel short LOL, you may not take much care of yourself or indulge in things that aren't necessarily good for you (binges, drinking, partying, ect.😈) You like the wild side of life, and this connection feels carefree and fun at the time and it's exactly the type of connection you seek for a long term commitment aswell (but I don't see most of my pile 2's wanting a committed relationship all that much💍🚫). Virgo, Capricorn and Sagittarius placements, Pisces energy too. You feel a little overlooked in this connection... you may feel left out by your person and it makes you angry if you aren't thought of or considered often. You enjoy the passionate and exciting side of this connection but sometimes you aren't getting that exactly the way you want.😥 You hate being put on the side of this relationship for other things, you may feel your person has to much power over you especially over your mind. You also feel like your person doesn't know you well enough, and sometimes you feel insecure and unheard.💬💔 I feel some of my pile 2's have many options and don't need this connection as badly as others do. Also I think one of the biggest reasons you want this connection with your person is to satisfy your deeper needs and have a good time🖤

🗨How this connection feels to them: Truth, 9th house, Dive, Era, Salty, Sagittarius, Libra, Juno, 5th house, North node, 🧬🙅‍♀️🧸🛩 Ooh okay we have some Sagittarius energy for your person too!! You guys have similarities, Libra and Leo energy too. This connection feels nice and pleasant to them, but they may feel like they aren't being told the truth about things between you. My pile 2's may not be honest about things they know, I'm hearing withdrawing knowledge. Omg pile 2 might know this person is the one but they haven't let them know they felt this way yet!!💞 I think they have a desire to go places with you, they also wanna have fun and let loose around you. The future of this connection feels very spontaneous for your person, they don't know what to expect but they like it that way.🚀🔥 I think romantically speaking your person doesn't know much about your wants and needs in a relationship, and they have no clue what you wanna do with this one😂 As far as your person is concerned, you just wanna keep things casual and not take it too seriously tbh. They feel like taking a leap of in this connection with you and just seeing where it goes, and where this journey takes you both. I don't think they are scared of rejection from my pile 2's, they would probably be very understanding of it. They are chill with whatever you decide to do with this connection and they just wanna explore all the possibilities with you <3

✉Messages from your person: If I had you, We can try, What's wrong? Give me more, I know all of your secrets, You aren't on my level, Meet me in secret, I think you're a great person (You guys are such a ray of sunshine together☀️) Extra cards: Online, Close, Social media, Beloved, Ex lover, 9th house, South node, Leo, Fire, Venus (They wanna keep you close and stay in touch, omg🥺💕)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🌠

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the grey emoji~👟 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🖤

Pile 3🛹

Sign energy: Hips, Secret admirer, Sidetracked, Restaurant, Change, Pluto, Scorpio, Lilith, Pisces, 10th house, ♉🌏🗡💛

💭How this connection feels to you: Omg you guys have such a trendy vibe so dark and mysterious😎🖤 I'm sensing shadow energy within this pile, Scorpio, Pisces, Capricorn, Taurus placements. You view this connection as something deep and emotional, but also beautiful even in all it's darkest parts. To you this connection is always changing and growing to an depths hard to describe, the relationship between you and your person is so powerful and spiritually awakening.🦋🕯 It focuses on your darkest fantasies and aspects about yourself you keep hidden/unknown. You take this connection very seriously, and this could be a secret connection or one you don't let others see. Patience may be killing you in this connection, as you expect change and transformation with your person but you can't keep the waters from crashing onto shore.🌊⛈ You are so used to this connection being a bit chaotic and unpredictable but there is a need for this to be a more still and stable connection. You fantasize about your person a lot and their hips are very attractive to you, also this connection tends to be a distraction from more important matters in your life. This is an all consuming emotional experience for you in this connection.🖤

🗨How this connection feels to them: Eros, Rose, 5th house, College, Admiration, 1st house, 6th house, Aries, Water, 10th house, 🤙🕷🧤☸ So for my pile 3's person, they are seeing things through rose colored lenses I'm hearing, I don't think they tend to fantasize often but rather assume things are better than they are first thing. Your person may have Leo, Aries, Virgo or Capricorn Capricorn placements, They have a very strong energy. I think they jump into things very quickly including this connection, perhaps they didn't think too much of it when they wanted a relationship of some kind with you. This person does admire this connection and it inspires them, could be in creative pursuits or how they present themselves that this connection improves or effects in some way. My pile 3's have a very charismatic person☺💫 They don't get tense or stressed out often, usually laid back and enjoying themselves. At the beginning of this connection, there could have been a love at first sight kind of thing😍 Pretty sure they thought you were hot the second they saw you🔥❤🙈 They may have been overly ambitious with you in the beginning, and tried everything they could to win you over especially by impressing you like by getting a degree fast or showing off their talents/knowledge💪 Lol this person is so tryhard when it comes to this connection, and I'm hearing "your body is like a rose" maybe they think that of you🌹💗💕

✉Messages from your person: You deserve me, You don't have a choice, Ugh, I get lost in your eyes, You better know, I tell my friends about you, We could totally make it, Just listen to me (Ahhh my pile 3's your person really feels this connection with you🥰😍💋) Extra cards: Know, Lean, Sugar, Tears, Frozen, Aquarius, Taurus, Libra, 9th house, Fire

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🌠

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the skateboard emoji~🛹 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🖤

Pile 4🔊

Sign energy: Big, Marriage, Distance, Wedding, Surface, 3rd house, Mercury, Sagittarius, 2nd house, 11th house, 🦚🌏💢♌

💭How this connection feels to you: So for my pile 4's signs are Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Taurus, Aquarius, and Leo <3 Yoy may have Sagittarius in 2nd house or Mercury in 3rd.😇 You have a very loving and devoted outlook on this connection with your person, many of you wish to marry them.💍💝 Your person could be a Leo or you desire those traits in them. But there is distance for you in this connection my pile 4's :< I think you feel your person isn't on the same page as you, and they are more focused on themselves. My pile 4's are so in love and devoted to this person but there is a sense of rejection, there could be physical distance between you two or possibly on different sides of the planet.✈ This could be someone from a foreign country, I feel you communicate mostly through social media/online contact. You personally see a solid foundation for a long term partner in this connection but you aren't sure they see from your perspective.💔😓 You have a big investment in this relationship and my pile 4's your dedication is just so sweet!!😭

🗨How this connection feels to them: Foreign, Secret, Mad, Romance, Cold, Leo, Sagittarius, Pisces, Capricorn, Aquarius, 🌻🎪😈🌡 Ahh this is definitely someone foreign to you in some way, they could be living in a different country rn. But currently they have some hidden fantasies in this connection, omg like dark ones too🤯🙊 This is a bit of a hot romantic connection for them it makes them crazy with desire and passion😣🥵 But all that aside they feel you are a little distant from them, they low key want more attention and contact from you. They feel as if things have gone cold recently and the flame has burnt out.😞🌬🕯It's as if you don't feel as much as you used to at least to them, this could be because of how far apart you guys are in this connection. This does feel a little like something to hide for them, it could be because of their hidden fantasies and motives. I'm hearing it drives them mad omg they really have so much intense desire for this pile🔥 They want to be your sun and shine brightly for you, It's like the passion is there but then it isn't. They do feel strongly that the romance between you two has become more mundane or not expressive enough. They wish to feel your true passion and devotion, they wanna see the spark in your eyes and the excitement for a mysterious and unpredictable love affair🌹💐💋

✉Messages from your person: I only listen to you, Think highly of yourself, I try harder for you, We finally meet, It's not your fault, We're in trouble, I want to be your ex, You need to know (Omg they want the passion and romance to rise until it crashes and burns for you my pile 4's🥰) Extra cards: Up, Sagittarius, Cinderella, Boundaries, Rumor, Jupiter, Air, Sun, Taurus, 4th house (Wait patiently my pile 4's because your person wants to explore all the possibilities in this connection, you very well may be the one for them♡)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🌠

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the speaker emoji~🔊 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🖤

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

#tarot pick a card #love reading #daily tarot #pick a pile #free tarot #pac reading #pick a photo #love tarot reading #astrology reading #tarot #tarot pac #pac tarot #love pac #relationship reading #tarot readings #astrology readings #tarot reading #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pick a card #tarot love #tarotcommunity #tarotblr #divination #pac

[saekkas]

𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄

summary: rin's becoming more human the longer he's with you. he doesn't mind at all.

tags: f!reader, merfolk au, shark mermaid hybrid rin, human reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, falling in love, cultural differences, kissing.

wc: 2k

notes: i'm honestly very proud of this. i hope i did rinnie justice!

rin normally doesn't care about anything else but hunting, it's a given with how quickly he's growing. only months before his eleventh birthday, rin's already outgrown the other merchildren in his pod.

his tail is getting bigger, stronger, and he's starting to catch up to the wild orcas roaming the big blue seas which he calls home. it's a pretty thing, sleek and smooth but scaly.

black as the hair on his head with coralline blue and teal swirling up the limb, he looks like the fearsome predator he is. not only that, but his skin is also becoming thicker even his sharp nails can't scratch through them like they used to.

what he most prides in himself though, are his teeth. shark teeth are unique in the way they shred, falling out every year to signify their age. rin collects his, keeping every single one on his neck, wrapped around a long piece of netting he found near the shore.

he has ten wrapped around his neck, proudly showing off their sharpness and glimmer to anyone who passes.

the coral reefs are beautiful this time of year, they're teeming with life and growing into their colors. rin's laying among one, absentmindedly running his finger through an anemone, watching as the clown fish scatter at his motions.

the sun is bright ahead, casting a light that shines directly on him. he loves the feeling. basking under the sun yet not burning because of his skin.

minutes or even hours go by. rin can never seem to tell the time, not when the current flows through his gills. he almost falls asleep right where he is when a shadow passes up head. rin's eyes flutter open and it only takes him a moment to propel himself to the surface, his hands tightly gripping at what he assumes to be a seal.

he flinches when your scream pierces his ears. even though the sound is cloudy under water, rin moves back, letting his hands fall to his sides. his dorsal fin breaches the water as he circles you, keeping his distance before swimming closer.

only to receive a kick to the face.

rin grunts, feeling the telltale signs of a tooth shredding. he keeps it in one hand, letting his tail push him out of the water. his head pops out, bright teal eyes and messy flock of dark hair surrounding his visage. he's surprised you don't react as dramatically as you did.

rin isn't as interested with humans as the rest of his pod but he's followed enough fishing boats around to understand and speak their language.

he eyes you, stiff as a plank on your surfing board. you're a small thing, weak looking, and pruned. he wonders what you're doing out in the middle of the ocean all alone.

at first, all that comes out of his mouth are hums and growls. he's trying to communicate the best he can but when you start to lift a leg again, which rin thinks is meant to be a threat, he stops.

"are you a merman?" your voice is shaky at best, as is your entire body. your hands clench around the shells you've been collecting, ready to throw it at the unfamiliar creature. "my grandparents used to tell me about you. i didn't think you were real."

fascination replaces the fear in your eyes, and rin feels himself stiffen. you look to be the same age he is, and you have nothing to protect yourself with. he sighs internally, letting out a low chirp that you seem to perk at.

"can you talk?" you use your legs, kicking against the calm waters to bring yourself closer to him. rin leans back, cautiously flicking water at your face with his tail. you giggle at his action. "i won't hurt you. in fact, you're the one who could hurt me if you wanted to."

he calms a little at that. rin has always been the cautious one, especially with the way humans use their machines to trap his kind for amusement. he nods, pointing at you and then at himself, speaking lowly, "i thought you were a seal. please don't swim alone like this."

he dives back into the depths, only looking back at your form one last time when he hears you yell something at him. your name. rin smiles, clenching the tooth wrapped around his palm, and swims back home.

the seasons pass, the necklace around rin's neck becoming heavier as he grows. he's recently turned twenty-one yet there are only twenty pieces of his teeth dangling around his neck.

he doesn't wear the eleventh one because of you.

through the years, rin's become verily acquainted with your presence. friendship, you had called it. at first it was another accidental meeting between the two of you when he was out hunting near the shore. one thing led to another and rin finds himself too used to your laughter, the little quirks that you possess, and the differences between your worlds.

he's a full-grown shark now. his shoulders have broadened, his tail a sight to behold. he has the ability to roam the oceans, swim across the world, yet the waters feel empty without you beside him. rin has to shake the thought out of his head when he hears your voice calling out.

the waters of the open ocean ripple when you kick and slam your feet, and it has rin shaking his head. he launches himself at your board, hearing your maniacal laughter when he breaches the surface. he tips your surfboard, effectively sending you right into the water.

"that's no fair!" you push the wet hair out of your face, splashing rin when his head pops out of the water. "i never get to surprise you."

rin flicks his tail, sending a wave of water right at your face. he chuckles lowly when you splutter. humans and their need for air never seem to not amuse him.

"my brother can probably hear you at the bottom of the ocean with how loud you were being."

you snort, waving your hand nonchalantly. "i'm sure sae is comfortably unaware of my presence in his secret cave."

rin only chuckles at that, swimming closer to wrap a hand around your waist, pushing you up against his chest.

that's another thing rin has become acquainted with ever since meeting you. skin ship. the act of touching itself is uncommon among shark folk. gentle caresses and acts of service are reserved only for family or mates. with strangers and even friends, aggression is usually what he uses; play fights, hunting, preying.

and here he is, letting you touch him and take away all his time as if it were a normality.

the worst part about it? rin feels as if he wants it, needs it. he can barely spend an entire day without you, your smile and gentle touches soothe him in ways he can't understand. he hates to admit it, but sae was right. he's been too blind all this time, like a guppy threading through murky waters.

he just needs to own up to it.

"hello? earth to rin?"

his eyes come back into focus, solely fixed on you. there's a smile on your face, your feet softly kicking against the water. the sun is setting behind you, and rin feels his heart beat out of his chest at the sight.

he hums, a mere flick of his tail sending you both forward. he wraps his arms around your waist tighter, careful with his nails, and helps you stay afloat against the water.

he wonders if you can feel the thrumming in his chest against yours.

"someone's distracted today," you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck.

moments of intimacy between you are sparce but they're special, especially on days where you both want nothing but to float away in the sea. his nails, pointed and sharp, trail up your waist and settle on your lower back.

he's not sure what's making you shiver. the cold temperature or his touch.

"something special happen?"

rin nuzzles his nose against your neck, right where your gills are supposed to be if you were like him. a low rumble sounds deep in his chest, one you recognize to be a greeting. one he never forgets to gift you.

"i have something for you." his voice by your neck is low, deep as the ocean you swim in. you feel his hands roam down to your thighs, guiding them to wrap around his waist. when they do, you hear him sigh, his dorsal fin slumping in content.

you watch with amusement, lifting a finger to caress the limb. it makes him groan, wrapping his hands around you tighter, before suddenly diving down into the depths, bringing you with him.

his movement are fast, and you try to keep your eyes open, even when the salt stings. rin does this often. most times when he's flustered or something's bothering him. today, you assume, it's a combination of both.

when he breaches the surface, you inhale as much oxygen as you can. looking around, you see that he's brought you onto a small stack of land that's covered in sand, surrounded by miles of water.

"i have something for you," he repeats, his eyes unblinking as he stares at you. "i want you to have it."

you let him open your palm, watch as he drops a necklace decorated with pearls and a single tooth in the middle.

"is this," you gasp, looking at the necklace around his neck and back to, what is now, yours. "rin. you didn't have to."

"i didn't." he nods as he says his words, now shyly avoiding your gaze. his dorsal fin stands rigid against his back, his tail anxiously wrapping around one of your legs. he's so different yet so similar to you, in so many ways. "i wanted to."

"thank you," you whisper softly, leaning over to where he sits by the edge of the water. "i want to give you something too."

"what is it?" his tail flicks against your thigh, the texture smooth and scaly, hefty above the skin. it's a weight you're used to. a weight that grounds you. "i'd like anything you give me."

there's the beginnings of a blush on rin's cheek and you silently giggle, wondering whether shark folk are always so brash and obvious with their words.

"well, i'll hold you to it."

rin hesitates, freezing when you lift a hand to his neck, gently caressing the gills on the area. he blinks, as if in a daze as your hand moves to his face, lingering on his cheek.

he's never let anyone come this close before. you've never come this close before. it feels foreign yet so much like home. he sighs, closing his eyes and slumping most of his weight on you, nuzzling his face into your hold.

he feels you lean down and blinks his eyes open when there's a gentle pressure on his lips. it leaves him tingling and he looks at you with wide eyes. "what did you do? what was that?"

"it's called a kiss." you swipe the hair that's covering his eyes away, still keeping a hand on his cheek. "it's what humans do to express their affection."

rin tilts his head, his tail coiling around your leg tighter. "you have affections for me?"

"i do," you say before laughing when he coos suddenly. he dives into the water right after, hiding his blush as only half of his head pops out.

"i have affections for you too." the sound of his voice is muffled by the water, but his excitement is clear with the way he's shaking. almost like a fish out of sea. a rin out of his element. "i liked that.. kiss too. can we do it again?"

"we can do it as many times as you want," you answer with a grin, tapping your thigh with a hand. "i can't kiss you when you're all the way there, though."

rin waddles closer to you, pulling himself onto the sand. letting his tail curl around your body, he smiles with sharp teeth as you pull him into another kiss. he can definitely get used to this.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin imagines #rin x reader #rin imagines #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #bllk x y/n #bllk x female reader #bllk x you #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x female reader #blue lock headcanons #rin fluff

[phoenix-bleh]

Um, if you don't mind, can I order a Cookie Run Kingdom Self-awareness Au from you if you don't mind y/n the baker will be a child? And the situation is like this: Child y/n was playing his favorite Cookie Run Kingdom game and one day while y/n was sleeping, Pure Vanilla Cookie suddenly pops out of the child's phone. Pure Vanilla Cookie Saw a charming child on the bed, sat down next to them and began stroking this little boy on the head and gently hugging him kissing his forehead and suddenly Shadow Milk Cookie appeared and saw this moment a little jealous as Pure Vanilla Cookie holds this little boy in his arms and he just smiles sweetly at him with a sly expression saying Hey, what happened? Are you jealous of a little baker for me?

❗STRICTLY PLATONIC FOR CHILDREN❗

If you don't mind of course I I thought thought that would be nice! ^^

Pure Vanilla x child! reader x Shadow Milk

!PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP!

After school you walked back home and dropped your backpack on the floor once you entered your house. You sat at your desk and pulled out your phone from your pocket and went on one of your favorite games. Cookie Run Kingdom. It always brought you some sort of joy especially after a very busy day. You would just go on it for hours or even just a few minutes.

However one thing that you noticed is that one of the cookie characters always seemed to notice you almost like he was aware of your presence. It was Pure Vanilla Cookie. You just got him recently during the Beast Yeast update. There was something off about him once he was in your kingdom though. He would make comments to you as if he was trying to speak directly towards you.

It was unsettling but you thought nothing of it since it was just a game, he was probably programmed to do that. 

One day you stayed up really late studying for an upcoming test. You wanted to make sure you passed this test as much as possible, but you slowly started growing tired. You try to keep your eyes open and focus on the words and notes you were reading. Until you passed out from exhaustion and fell asleep right at your desk.

A few minutes passed when all of a sudden your phone turned on and had a soft glowing light on it and then a figure morphed into your room from the phone. Pure Vanilla Cookie appeared and landed on his feet. You were not aware of any of this happening because you were too tired to wake up to see what was happening.

Pure Vanilla walked up to your sleeping form and stared down at you. He then placed a hand on top of your head. “Oh you poor child, how could you work yourself to exhaustion like this?” He said quietly to himself keeping his voice low so as to not wake you. He was always aware of your presence ever since you got him from the gacha. He felt this sense to take care of you, since you were only a child. You never seemed to care for yourself properly which made him worried for your well being, and being a healer it was natural for him to care for someone.

He picked you up and brought you over to your bed. He sat down first and then placed you laying down next to him with your head on his lap. He smiled softly at you, stroking your head gently. You looked so peaceful and he could hear your little snores, he thought it was cute. “If I ever could one day I’d bring you back to my place and take care of you more properly and you wouldn’t have to worry about anything little one.”

Some time passed and he lifted you again to place your head on the pillow and tucked you in under your blankets making sure you were warm and secure. He placed a small kiss on your head and rubbed your shoulders. He didn’t want to leave just yet so he stayed a bit longer.

Pure Vanilla Cookie then realized that your phone turned on by itself again and out came another figure. He looked at them until they finally revealed themselves to be Shadow Milk Cookie. Pure Vanilla calming looked at him and raised a brow “What are you doing here?” he asked. Shadow Milk looked at him with a displeased look on his face as he crossed his arms. “I should be asking you the same question.” 

Pure Vanilla then gave him a sly look.

“What’s with the look? Jealous I got to the child first?”

Shadow Milk Cookie was pissed lmao.

part 2!

#crk x reader #shadow milk cookie x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #pure vanilla cookie x reader

[whynot-tryit]

Angel of Small Death

Chapter 2

Summary: You start working on helping Ghost fix his sleep schedule and make slow but steady progress. The captain takes notice and decides to go to you to help him with the same problem

Word count: 4,627

Warnings: medical inaccuracies, talk of insomnia, talk of nightmares, elusion to masturbation, elusion to sex, touching, ummm I think thats it lmk if theres something I missed.

——————————————————-

It’s been closing on two weeks of you working with 141, the long corridors of the base have become somewhat familiar. You’ve slowly but surely been making your room fit to your standards, some low lighting from some candles and lamps, you hated the overhead lights that came with the room. Some soft blankets and pillows. The candles were strictly against the rules but they were your little secret, not like you were inviting people over to be able to snitch on you about it. 

The boys have made you feel at home, inviting you to eat with them during meal times when you weren’t bound to your office trying to organize all their medical records and setting up a timeline for check ups and routine vaccines and tests. 

Soap was the talker of the group, filling the silence most times and making actual intellectual conversations the other times. Gaz was still not that much of a talker, mostly coming out of his shell to agree with something one of the other boys had said or to call out Soap on his bullshit. Ghost was basically a shadow- he was there physically but not there in any other sense. John didn’t usually come to meal times. He was almost always in his office, you had never even heard any of the boys mention his living quarters which made a knot grow in your stomach when you thought about it. Did he live on base? He had to, most likely. Did he sleep in his office? He was still a stranger- a handsome one at that- but the thought made you unhappy to even think about. 

When you had originally met with Ghost you had made somewhat of a game plan to try to aid him with his insomnia. You had come to learn that he had issues falling asleep, staying asleep, and avoiding nightmares. You were glad they weren’t night terrors, that would’ve been even harder to help him with. Most of the meeting was taken up with a number of questions of things he had previously tried that surprisingly got you a deeper look into who he was. 

He had tried tea, but found the taste of chamomile to be sickening. Lemon balm tea was too strong for his nose, along with peppermint tea. He had liked lavender tea but found it hard to buy it out of the sight of his teammates, finding it embarrassing. He slept with his mask on, regardless of the heat and never under any blankets- no matter how cold. His adamancy about not resorting to drugs held you back quite a bit but you reassured him you’d try your best. 

You started with black out curtains, courtesy of the small fund the medical bay was allowed to use. You had delivered them to Ghost’s room yourself, the look in his eyes when he had first opened the door for you was almost enough to send you running but you stood your ground. He was thankfully handy enough to be able to install them himself. While in his room you had taken notice that he had not moved the furniture in the room at all, the bed located against the middle of the wall you are faced with as soon as you walk in the room. It took a lot of convincing but you got him to move the bed in the corner, he would sleep facing the door- easy to spot an intruder, and safe enough to not have to worry about someone sneaking up behind him. 

That same visit you had brought him another surprise, a kettle and three boxes of lavender tea. Ghost was deeply touched by the action, he hadn’t explicitly told you about the embarrassment of going to the kitchen on base at two or three in the morning to make himself a cup of tea. The smell would waft through the halls on his way back and there had been multiple times he had made the whole walk just to get himself a cup of water instead once he realized how many men were there. 

“I can buy them for you, the boys don’t need to know.” 

He responded the way he usually did, the way he had since you first met him- with silence. You’d have to admit that you would usually have to see someone's whole face to be able to read them but Ghost’s eyes were surprisingly loud. The gratitude, the hesitance, the timidness that he’d stare at you with were enough. You had set up the kettle and boxes on his desk, now he didn’t have to go all the way to the kitchen to make himself a cup. “I know it’s not a proper cup of tea but hopefully it's enough.” 

“It’s enough.” His response was airy, almost like the ending of a chuckle. It ends up being the first night that he only wakes up once in months. 

You can see his shoulders are less tense and the bags under his eyes- when not covered in black face paint- look better after a few weeks. You get him a decent pillow next. It wasn’t a medical diagnosis on your part, men were known to have unbearably flat pillows, like the fluffiness of then had been beaten out of them. So after noticing that Ghost was one of those men, who owned such pillows, you had bought nice fluffy ones- just two. Sturdy enough to where his head would still be above his shoulders when he laid on his side. You made sure to get ones that had that cooling stuff, so that his mask wouldn’t make him overheat while he was asleep. 

The gift was left by his door, you had been in a rush and didn’t have the time to knock and come in but Ghost knew it was you, the next step in your treatment for him. It's the first time he falls asleep in less than an hour in what seemed like years, maybe.

At this point it was nearing over a month that you had been there. Ghost had been going from multiple cups of black coffee to an occasional one with maybe a pack of sugar here and there. This stark difference did not go unnoticed, especially from the captain who often made his next cup of coffee a few feet away from him almost every morning.  

…

John’s eyes watch over the hulking masked figure as he shakes out a sugar packet before ripping off the top and dumping it out into the mug of dark liquid. He sets a hand down onto the counter while the other brings his own mug up to his lips as he takes a sip, brows furrowed. “I didn’t know you liked sugar in your coffee, lieutenant.”

Ghost grunts, “I don’t, but the coffee tastes like shite more than usual.”

That earns him a chuckle from the captain before Ghost makes his way to a seat at the wooden table a few feet away. He takes the seat at the end, keeping a distance away from Soap and Gaz who are slowly but surely picking away at their food. John watches the boys for a second, his eyes finding their way back to Ghost. He seemed chirpier than normal, at least as much as he can get. He hadn’t reached for the bottom of his mask to chug his coffee before pouring himself another one like normal. The mug still sat in his hands, situated in his lap. Almost like he was nursing it, savoring the taste instead of biting the bullet and drinking it for the sole purpose of the energy boost. 

You had made it a habit to join the boys for a cup of coffee, talking about what your plans were for the day before you went to the med bay. You round the corner and make your way to the counter, in the same vicinity of John to make your usual cup. You liked sweet things, always have- although you saved your guilty pleasure until you really needed them but coffee was the one thing you indulged in at least once a day. You put a heaping amount of milk until the liquid was a light brown color before grabbing two sugar packets and shaking them out. 

“You gonna have any coffee with that cup of milk, love?”

You giggle, “Wow, never heard that one before, Cap” You give him a small side eye before ripping off the top of the sugar packets and dumping them into the concoction. You take a finger and swirl the liquid around until you feel like it was mixed together enough for your liking and bring the finger up to your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit- the taste of the sweet coffee hitting your taste buds. You pull your finger out of your mouth with a pop before looking over at John. “Probably tastes better than yours anyway.” 

He watches your retreating figure as you find a seat by the boys, easily slipping into conversation with them. John’s eyes look over the four of you, settling specifically on you- watching you silently sip on your drink.

Thoughts of you had been plaguing him for weeks, going over the interaction between the two of you. You technically didn’t work under him, you worked with him- helped him. You gave him a sense of comfort that went far beyond what was in your job description, that had to mean something. Maybe that's what you're doing- all that you’re doing, being nice. The hesitance of him acting on his feelings have been holding him back. He’s finally had time to look over your file, you’re younger than him by a good amount. Maybe you just saw him as a sweet old man, your captain but nothing more. It’s been keeping him up at night, at least more than his other problems usually do.

Price had been lost in his thoughts for a bit, when his eyes finally focused on the group Soap and Gaz are getting up- nodding a goodbye before walking out. You shift yourself in the chair to whisper something to Ghost with a small smile, the mask seems to shift over the lower part of his face. The exchange of words doesn't reach Price’s ears and his brows furrow. What were you guys talking about?

You seem to end the conversation with a final word and rise up to your feet and throw a small wave over your shoulder to John, making your way to the door with the mug still in your hands. Ghost seems to sit for a few still minutes before pulling up the edge of his mask to take a sip of his coffee. 

“What was that about?” John had made his way over to the table, taking a seat and spreading his thighs. Ghost grunts a questioning sound. 

“What were you and the Doc talking about?” John didn’t want to pressure the man to talk but he was interested. Ghost pulls his mask down after another sip before opening his mouth to speak. “She’s been helping me out.” John’s eyebrows raise. Is that why he’s been drinking less black coffee? He had seen Ghost acting a lot more friendly than usual, chuckling at something Soap had said, less aggressive criticism while training, and overall a lot more awake. He wasn’t bouncing off the wall but his eyes looked better, the bags under them improving as well.

“Are you sleeping?” The question is almost whispered, lower than most of the words they’ve exchanged so far. John had known Ghost for years. He’s seen his face on some occasions and was given the opportunity to know his real name. Brothers, almost- rather than just teammates. There had been multiple times- on missions- when they were a mere few feet away from each other and had woken up in a sweat due to their nightmares. It came with the job.

Ghost fiddles with the mug on the table, “I sleep better than I did before, I’ll say that much.” 

……………………

You had briefly asked Ghost if he had used the pillows you had left for him. He had kindly but quietly said yes, and a small brief thank you. It was actually the first real thank you you’ve seemed to have gotten since first moving to the base. You worked somewhat side by side with the rest of the medical team but they were often rude and rushed. You somewhat had the feeling that they were upset with the fact that Laswell decided to bring someone from outside the base instead of just picking someone on base to work with 141. The feeling hasn't exactly been proven but it was still there, hiding in the shadows of your thoughts.

There was a small office space that had been given to you on the outskirts of the med bay, almost like your own little doctor's office. You loved it, it was small but in a way you were fond of. Most of your time since getting here had been to go over test results, Gaz had tested for anemia and was put on a supplement, Soap’s hearing was only a decimal under average, and well Ghost seemed like he was finally getting sleep. The captain, who had been taking up most of the space in your brain, in a completely unprofessional way- didn’t really have anything to attend to in a medical way.

You place your pen down on the desk and run your hands over your face before placing them under your chin, elbows resting on your desk. You were thinking about it again, about him. There would be moments where you would find yourself smiling to yourself, thinking of him. Or you’d stare off into that small piece of peeling wall paint in the corner, going over the small interaction again and again. Maybe if you could come up with something that would get him into your office, something he could complain about enough to come and talk to you about. You let out a sigh once the thought hits you. This is so unprofessional.

But God, the things you wanted to do to that man, the things you wanted him to do to you, were definitely not professional. You wanted to ram your head straight into the wooden frame under you just to get it out of your head.

 A soft knock bursts you out of your thought bubble and you turn your head to look at the doorway. John still has his hand slightly raised to the door but slowly puts it down before giving you a friendly smile. Fuck me.

“Mind if I come in, love?” 

You splutter out an of course. “Is there something I can help you with, John?”

He takes a couple steps into the room before coming to a halt and crossing his arms across his chest, void of his tactical vest. You try not to stare at the way the ripples in his shirt stretch over the expanse of his shoulders and chest. “I was speaking to Ghost earlier, you’ve been helping him?” 

You’re sitting in a slightly more comfortable stool than last time but still pretty low, you have to crane your neck just a little to meet his eyes. You start to fiddle with your fingers. “Yeah, just some home remedies and stuff, to help him sleep.” 

Since the captain hasn’t been wandering around the base, you take it he’s quite a busy man- you haven’t updated him on any of the treatments you’ve been giving to the rest of 141. A part of you wonders if that's what he’s here about. “I’m sorry if that was something I was supposed to keep you updated on, you seem like a busy man. I didn’t want to interrupt you in your office.”

Your fidgeting becomes even worse, picking at your nail beds with your hands in your lap. John glances a look down at them, he feels a tad bit of guilt for making you nervous. He moves to take a seat in an abandoned chair in the corner, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. “You’re alright, don’t worry.” A calloused hand comes up to scratch at the side of his face, through his beard. “I was actually here about something else.”

It’s like a flip switch in you. Your training kicks in and you use a hand to push yourself away from the desk, slowly coming to a stop a few feet in front of him still seated in your chair. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright, love.” He chuckles. “It’s the same thing as Ghost, not as bad though.” You hum before scooting an extra foot or two back. “Stand up.”

John’s eyebrows raise in a look of surprise but gets up, his arms idly staying by his sides. Should he put them in his pockets? The thought itches his brain and he starts to move them to do so. 

You stand, now crossing your arms. “Do you have nightmares?” The question hangs in the air for a couple seconds while you slowly make your way around John. You circle him, trying to get a good look at all of him- trying to find anything that you can use to help him. “Not usually, especially after a glass or a cigar.” He’s tense, your eyes are tracing him- from his shoulders, to his back, his fitted waist in the cargo pants he’s wearing all the way down to his feet. You let out a light laugh before you come up in front of him again. “Are you having problems falling asleep or staying asleep?” 

You look him directly in his eyes while you ask him the question. “Falling asleep.” He gives you a tight lipped smile. Your feet start moving again, walking in a circle around him once more. John was strong, his stance told you that much. His shoulders were tense, your eyes trail down his back. “Do you have someone at home helping you when you can’t sleep?”

John turns his head, trying to catch a glimpse of you behind him. You take notice of his neck, he doesn’t seem to be able to get a good look behind him, at least not without turning his whole body. He seems surprised by the question, trying to get a coherent thought out of his mouth to answer you. “Don’t have anyone waiting for me if that's what you’re asking me, love.”

You had asked the same question to Ghost when you were doing your initial interrogation, it was quite awkward but it was essential in your treatment. You don’t know if that was gonna be a good thing or a bad thing with John.

“I have to ask you.” You feel a heat run up your neck and into your check and you try to fight a smile while you finally are in front of him again. “What's your sex life like?” 

John's chest shakes with laughter, it's the first time you’ve heard the real thing. It's like it's coming out from deep within him and you have to bite your lip to not let out the same sound. “Don’t have much time for that.” His eyes are still crinkled, those crows feet peeking out at you yet again. “Well are you at least getting it out of your system?” 

“Why would you like to know, love?” 

You have to clear your throat a little because of the look he’s giving you, his eyes are boring right into you- arms now back to being crossed. “It can help you fall asleep, especially if the reason for you not falling asleep stems from anxiety or stress.” It takes almost everything in you to hold his eyes with your own. Your face feels like it's on fire.

“I’m alright in that aspect, love.” John is fighting off another smile, it’s adorable seeing you this way. He wants to see it more.

You lick your lips before resurfacing to the conversation to add another question. “Do you get any headaches?” You slip your hands into the pockets of your scrub top, anxious to do something with your hands while his eyes are still on you. He gives you a hum as a yes. “Are they usually towards the back of your head?” 

“Yeah, does that mean something?” 

You slowly make your way slightly behind him and raise a hand, lightly touching the base of his head, almost the start of his neck. “Right around here?” 

Besides the time John shook your hand and you had touched his neck, there wasn’t any physical touch when it came to the two of you. Did you really have to touch the area to ask him if if hurt there? No. Did you want an excuse to touch him? Yes, a hundred percent yes. Was that probably unprofessional? Most likely yes. 

You add a little pressure with the tips of your finger into the tense spot and John winces. You let out a small sorry but slowly tiptoe your fingers down the back of his neck, follow the trail of muscles until they reach almost to his shoulder blade. You add the same amount of pressure as before but now in a new spot and you hear John let out what almost sounds like a sound of relief. His arms have slowly uncrossed and his shoulders slump a little at the feeling. 

“I thought you said massages were part of the deluxe package?” John says with a chuckle. 

“Let’s call it the captain treatment for now, just until you upgrade.” You move to grab the stool you were previously sitting on and motion for him to take a seat. John does so, his head comes to rest just at eye level with your chest and you try to stop your stomach from doing somersaults at the seemingly innocent occurrence. You move to get behind him and continue the little massage. 

You focus more on the right side of his neck and he cranes his neck to the left to give you enough space. Your other hand comes around to cradle the left side of his face, his facial hair rough against the palm of your hand. John takes a sharp inhale at the feeling of your soft hand caressing his face. “Is this okay?” You don’t mean for your question to come out in the form of a whisper, you’re only a few inches away from his ear, trying to massage the tenseness out of his neck, slowly making your way to his shoulder. “This is perfect, love.” 

John’s voice is breathless, almost gruff and the sound of it makes your stomach flip. You try to swallow down the saliva that's suddenly over powering the space in your mouth. 

You make your way to the left side of his neck, now cradling the right side of his head in your hand while the other one makes work in his tense muscles. John slightly winces and you let out a hushed apology. “I got you.” 

You don’t know why you said it, maybe to provide some sense of reassurance but your small whispered voice hits John’s ears. He fights back a full body shiver from your voice. He gulps and you can feel the action through his skin with your hands. It’s an innocent thing really but the touches seem more intimate than intended, the words adding fuel to the fire. 

The tense muscles finally give away underneath the tips of your fingers and you slowly move them away, already craving the feeling of his skin- his beard underneath your hands again. “That should be good.” You give yourself one more chance and give him a soft squeeze on both of his shoulders, the feeling their broadness almost makes your knees weak. 

John takes a deep breath, rolling his shoulders back to feel the new lightness on his back. “Do I have to pay extra to get that again?” He laughs. You come around his body- back to your desk and lean your back against it. “Maybe come back and say please and I’ll think about it.” 

His eyes are soft, gratitude radiates off of him and you feel it, offering him a kind smile. “Let me know how you sleep for the next two or three days and then we’ll see if there's anything else I can do.”

“Sounds like a plan, love.” John knows he should probably make his way out of the room, say thanks and push the intimate moment to the depths of the folds of his brain but he can’t seem to do it. He wants to be in your presence longer, hear your voice more, anything with you. 

He clears his throat. “How has the base been treating you?” He almost winces at the stupid question. The urge to punch himself is strong but he pushes it down. 

“It’s alright, I think I’ve gotten the hang of things. The rest of the medical staff haven’t gotten used to me yet but I think they’ll warm up to me soon.”

“They haven’t said anything wrong to you, have they?” The kind look on John's face disappears once he hears your words, a stoic look now replacing it. 

“No, they haven’t.” You giggle. “Plus you and the boys are more than welcoming. I’ll be okay.” 

John knows he hasn’t been as present to your new environment as he’d like to be. He’s cramped inside his office for most of the time, in a completely different part of the base. “Well, you know I’m here if anything. Anything you need at all, love.” 

You glance down at your feet- trying to hide the blush you feel rushing up to your cheeks. Fuck, he’s good at that- making you blush.

“We can meet in my office, go over some of the treatments and preventions for the team.” John’s pretty sure Laswell had mentioned that he should meet with you once a week, maybe once every other week to go over your reports and overall the health of the team. It was one of her tactics in persuading him to look into hiring you. It wouldn’t take a lot out of his schedule, or at least it shouldn’t. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you any busier than you already are.” The idea sounds lovely. Time to get to know him, less time in your office and away from the rest of the medical staff. John pushes himself out of the stool, coming to stand in front of you. “Don’t worry your little pretty head about it. How does next week sound?” 

You probably look like a fish out of water, at least that's what you think. First love and now this? He was trying to kill you.”Yeah, that sounds good.” You sound breathless, rightfully so- your heart is beating out of control- in your throat, your chest, maybe even in your stomach. 

John strides to the door, “I’ll see you then, love. Goodnight.” He flashes one more smile before turning past the doorway and down the hall. You barely have time to throw out your own good night. 

You stand there for what feels like an hour, chewing at your bottom lip. It has to be some kind of crime to be that charming. When you finally regain the sturdy feeling of your legs you gather your things and try to head back to your room for a good night's sleep. You’re definitely gonna have to take care of yourself tonight to make sure you can sleep at all after that. 

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A/N: I just wanna say thank you so much for all the notes on the first chapter, you guys are so cute and sweet. I added everyone who asked to be on a taglist, some even messaged me directly and tbh I don't know how to answer those without posting it for everyone to see so I didn't wanna do that incase they didn't want others to see their message. I am also so excited for the next two chapters, I have some good ideas planned that I am so excited to share with y'all. I hope you enjoy! Love you guys!

Taglist: @sharkiestory @midwesternwitchery @lavenderhhze @thriving-n-jiving @rivalriotrenegade @bitchoftoji @wasteland-babe @chloepluto1306 @sagewtff @not-so-innocent-now @scuftryo 

#john price #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod x reader #cod men #cod mwii #x reader

[doublekanble]

Ghost in your home.

Alastor/reader (gnc)

romantic-platonic

word count: 8.5k

or, ever since you came back into his life, you came back wrong. And every attempt to understand or to fix you only ever serves to widen the distance. (have you ever love someone who died and came back so much you try to forced them into the mold of who they used to be without considering the fact they're no longer the same person? instead of learning to love them again? well have i got good news for you.) tw: toxic relationship (what's new). 2-4 have a progression of injuries and gorish talk. semi unreliable narrator alastor

1. His house is always at a pleasant 20 degree Celsius, but it always feels like 0.

“Now, I’m sure this is a bit upsetting, yes. But I assured you it’s for the better— “

Sharp yellow teeth grinded against each other, Alastor do his best to keep his own temper in check when another pillow hit his chest. The sounds of radio dials going haywire blares out for a second before evening itself out and turn to a low frequency hum. He picked these because he knows you would’ve love them, seems your tantrum triumph your love for the colors, after all. Standing a respectable distance away from you, at the door, he simply tries to focus on the positive.

“Shut the fuck up!” you roared, whipping your head around to stare into his eyes from where you’re hunching over, he would try chiding you for your nasty mouth, but that can wait until he’s sure you won’t rip the carpet apart. “What are you even trying to do?! Was killing me before not enough for you? You just have to hunt me down and make me lose my job— “

“—An extremely unnecessary and useless job that you’ll never have to bother with ever again!” when he starts to walk towards you, arms open and still trying to put you above himself, your snarled at him and lowered yourself, as if ready to lung at any minute. It wasn’t until you bring your hands up that he realized what you were doing, your fingers clutching the duvet below you tightly. Almost like a wounded animal retreating into its hiding spot before choosing to fight, you sat on your knee with sharp fingers, and in a single tug, you tear it into two.

“I wanted that job, Alastor! That was my job!” bellowing out at him with a fury he have never seen in you while bunching however much of the useless cotton that can fit in your hand, you tried to throw it at him again. It fell just below his feet and bloom open instead. Alastor doesn’t bother kicking it off to the side, opting to step over it and the other mess you made in your room. “You go and get yourself one that can guarantee you decent rooming and livable wage in this hellhole without selling your soul you dog!”

His shadow covers your figure as he look down at you with what he hoped is a more than amicable smile. That duvet and the torn books, the lamp and the drawers, everything, was picked out just for you. Now it’s all on the floor, even before he got to your room. He laughs.

“That’s absurd, love! Are you really trying to justify working in that pigsty for nickels and dimes? And even so,” Judging from the way you cowered and the interference in his voice, Alastor made a wild guess that he failed, but there’s no need to dwell on the specific. Light escaped to the corners when statics runs through the air before cutting off completely and red stares back at him from the bottom of your irises, you grow just a tad smaller in his eyes. “There is absolutely no need throwing such fits over minor disagreements. We’re both decent folks raised right, aren’t we?” you winced visibly when he cranks his neck to a sharp ninety-degree, he almost feels bad for you.

“It’s not ‘minor’, everything I worked for is gone. You scorched them like they’re nothing…” You grumble out and break the eye contact, tone spiteful but small. There’s a tinge of cautions in it now, like a dog with tail in between it legs, still growling from it belly but caution of the fight.

“I wouldn’t have burn anything that meant something to you, love,” Cooing at you, he can feel his bones shifting back into place as Alastor reaches out a hand to smooth out your hair, finally able to frets over your messy and unkept state from the morning outburst. You keep absolutely still under his hold. “All those frivolous rubbish you kept in that tiny living quarter of yours combine won’t worth half as much as a single item in this room! And look at where they all ended up…”

“They meant something to me, Alastor.” He glances down at his hand, your sudden grip on it was tight, with the nail on your thumb pressing right at his vein as a warning. He can tell when someone’s doing something to scared him, this isn’t that at all. You seem to almost be unaware of it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Alastor finds the notion of you needing to know how to do this —or the fact you’re even doing it out of habit— wholly annoying and unpleasant. “I like them, and I worked to buy them with my own means.”

At that, he smiles, such a messy little thing, you always are. Awfully sentimental and always get caught up on the wrong thing. Alastor gets it, he really does. He gets sentimental over stupid, silly little objects and items too. The rock he picked up somewhere when he was five, placed in the corner of the drawer that he threw out once he found it again as an adult. His first tailored suit that he worked day and night for, collecting dust in his closet by the time he looked back. That letter of acceptance kept in a box, the one he burns the day that lousy owner of the radio station was discovered at a bottom of a creek and got replaced with someone much more pleasant.

Alastor has things he treasured too, and unlike you, he knows when to let something go and when to take a hold of it. That’s why your old place stand as nothing more than ashes blowing in the wind. You always have a knack for frantically holding onto your romanticism and the nonsensical. He honestly would rather be giving you more time to adapt, but not only are you horribly fussy about it, Alastor now has his good grace thrown in his face.

“Well then, if you’re so hung up on them, then you’ll feel more than at home to work for everything you’ve wrecked today, yes? Afterwards, we can get talking about getting you something else.”

You’re a terribly lucky thing, still able to even breathe where Alastor maimed so many for much less. He thinks you know you are, that’s only why you’re so insistent on being so difficult, glaring up at him with hate in your eyes and a such a rotten attitude.

“Get out,” your voice was small, but far from scared. With fingers curling around his wrist uselessly, you all but snarled, “Get. Out.”

“They’re awfully expensive, as you already know. They’ll do good to motivate you too. One stone two bird, as they’d say~” ignoring your silly attempt to provoke him into losing his temper again, Alastor wrapped his free hand around yours, and with what he thought was a gentle tug, pulls it from his wrist. He releases it when you winced, almost caught surprise by the change in the way you sit. Slightly hunching over, you held your hand close to you. His index nicked your wrist, and a bead of red ran from it.

Although it was no more than an accident, he knows you’re more than familiar with the ensembles of screams and cries running from the radio he placed in your room. You don’t need to know he will never let you join in with the harmony, but it’s nice to keep you on your toes sometimes.

“Stay good for me. Will you, darling?”

2. He gives you everything you could’ve ever wanted and more than you could ever need. He remembers your rapidly cooling body underneath him.

“Dearest,” sweetly, he calls out for you, gripping onto your shoulder, “Why are all the books in your bathtub?” he can tell it’s hurting you, but you keep your gaze far beyond the window and into the cityscape.

It wasn’t only the books, all of your lovely stationaries and art supplies and music sheets and what-else swims in that damned bathtub like a bloated corpse. Your room, although not as clean as it was before your little fit, it’s still a substantial improvement. It also gives you little to nothing in terms of fun aside from the lonely cacti sitting silently on a table with scratch marks, you’d refuses to step foot outside unless he needs you at the dinner table. Say whatever you want, Alastor is everything but heartless when it came to you, so he starts coming up with ways to give you some fun in your life.

He thought it’ll be the right thing to do, gifting you something for you to spent your times on and make a home out of your room. Which, in turns, might be the first push he needs for his home to become yours, too. He couldn’t really give himself too much credit, though. If anyone were to pay attention, they would all come to the same conclusion about you. Terribly restless and honest little thing, always on the move, always doing something. That’s what he loves so much about you, you can’t hide a single thought from him with how you can barely keep yourself together at times. Anything you feel always came up to your face. And if you were to dislike someone, he will know.

Even by the end, where you eventually grew quieter and more muted, looking behind your shoulders and fretful over invisible shadows hiding in the dark; your heart still stays so comically beautiful and kind. So lovingly, you still use the same fountain pen he gifted you. You were still you. So when he got you those things, Alastor was somewhat hoping to see just what you can come up with to further antagonized him. He’s not delusional as to hot-blooded and petty you are. You can hate him in this moment, but he knows you well enough to know you’ll never be like him. Always the kinder of the pair; you were never one for outright belligerent.

“I don’t know,” your voice was airy and light, then, “I don’t like any of them.”

But now, without him noticing, your eyes somehow carried the same glint as he does.

Down here in Hell, the day always been just a little bit brighter than the night. Obnoxious red always painted the sky, it’s really the furthest thing from the scenery back on Earth. Even then, the evening shade reflected in your eyes almost reminded him of the lovely days of being alive. With his red thumb practically piercing your collarbone with how hard he’s pressing down on you, sitting on the only chair in the room that’s still intact, by your half clawed-up desk, face sitting all neatly in the palm of one hand; you can almost be considered graceful like this, body lax and a wistful gaze. Alastor can almost be taken by the sight. Almost.

Although Alastor was only trying to turn you towards him for yet another scolding, for a second, he’d forgotten just how easy it is for his claws to tear. One moment, you were on the only chair left in the room, staring out a window and paying no mind to his growing ire. Another, you crumbled on the floor, hand replaced his. Slightly dazed from what just happened, he stands and watches on while you clutch at the bits of tendon and bones showing through skin, trying to squeeze the opening together with shaking hands. Red streams through between your fingers without a care as the familiar smell of metallic fills the room. You now faced towards the floor, frozen stiff like a scared little fawn. Alastor couldn’t bring himself from the sight. Right, you’re made of flesh, too.

He clenched the hand that touched you once to get rid of the ache soaking itself in his bone marrow, opens it, then twice, as if testing out the way your blood settles on his blackened palm. Shaking himself awake, he can almost feel the hunger clawing through his throat and molding itself into the will to bite. You really are lucky, if you were any old Joe, you wouldn’t even have a shoulder to rest that stupidly stubborn head of yours on.

“Darling,” a knee touching the floor, he kneels at his spot and reach a bloody hand out, moving the tip-over chair out of the way with another. An apology on the tip of his tongue, he bites and swallowed it when you inched yourself back just a bit with eyes still glued to the stained carpet. You wouldn’t really deserve one anyway. Long, heavy breath seeps through your bared teeth, your hold on that obnoxious gash tightened while the floor beneath you catches the blood that fell in droves. He sighs. “Come now, I’ll help clean you up.”

He can hear the sound of your heart, still frantically beating as you refused to answer or take his hand. Through the curtains of your bangs, he spots wild eyes darting to the door, before settling on his patiently waiting red claws. The moment you looked as if ready to bolt away, Alastor decides that he have been more than patient with you – seizing you by the elbow and dragging you up, he took you to his room for the day. You made a weak attempt at fighting out of his grip before giving up entirely. When your footstep slowly catches up to him, he thanked Lucifer.

In his well-decorated and tidy bathroom, over your humiliated protest and pitiful whine, Alastor forced a proper apology from your mouth while he scrubbed away the urge to sink his teeth into something and the crusted brown clinging to your flesh with a sponge and a grip too tight. You couldn’t complaint, too focused on what must be one of the worst pain you’ve felt since the day you were reborn. There’s nothing he can do for you, he thought to himself – you can handle a little more pain, you were so insisted about being so unfairly difficult despite his multiple humbling attempts at a peace offering or at least a truce. A brat until the end of time, no matter the length he’d go through for you.

Alastor would’ve wondered over and over to himself about just what was it that makes you so incredibly indispensable to him, but he knows why already. Standing by his window after patching you up and sending you back to your room with a “gentle” warning, leaving the bathtub ordeal to be dealt with tomorrow and having nothing else to do, he let a familiar tune plays from the neglected microphone leaning on his bed.

As a person, Alastor knows not of regrets. Everything he does since the day he buried his bastard of a father below the soil of the earth have been mark and marred with several distinct goals in mind. So that his mother can finally live the life God owed her, so that he can live the life he deserves, Alastor cheated and lied his way through life and climb up the social rank. With bloody hands and a silver tongue, he bought a house in a nice neighborhood and became well known amongst the community for his charm. And somewhere along the way, with dirt caked under his nails, he finds you in his life and you stayed until the day you died.

Life in New Orleans was always colorful, even when he was surfing through the night alone. But with you, it’s like getting to live through the good part twice. The day you died, a part of him died with you on the forest floor. Blooming under rotting leaves and buried below the rocks is the one other person that Alastor dare entrusted with his heart. It rots too, along with you, but he never really minded it all. Alastor knows you; he knows why you’re utterly indispensable to him.

As a person, Alastor knows not of regrets. But as Alastor, he finds that thoughts and daydreams can never talk and laugh like you do. In your absence, his thoroughly decayed heart only grows fonder of the you he remembers. When he came down here, he wasn’t able to bring a single thing of you with him. When he finds his way back up there, everything of yours was burnt and destroyed. So for the longest time, Alastor lives on with the thought of you in his mind and your warmth in his heart.

It's awfully painful, he quietly admitted to himself, it’s awfully painful how, even though you’re just a walk away now, room set right next to his, divided by thick wood; Alastor has never felt so much further away from the life he envisioned. His claws, clean of your blood, dance on the windowsill as he hummed along to a tune from the older days, the better days. He’s willing to wait, however. You surely will come around, you have to, and when you do, you’ll laugh about your stubborn streaks and poke fun at his willingness to let you trampled all over his ego like this. Surely.

For now, for the rest of the night, Alastor sat and stare out the window with nothing in mind. He hopes this feeling of fulfilled emptiness can leave before it takes roots in his heart.

3. The AM radio frequency only read white noise. He can’t hear your voice.

Your miserable sobs don’t get any quieter, even when he slammed the door closed.

Leaning against it with a huff, Alastor brushes off the familiar and unwelcome fatigue settling in his mind and adjusted the collar of his vest with one hand. There’s no use in going in there again for the night. If there’s one thing he can ever be sure of, it’s that you would throw yourself out the window the moment you see him again and made an even bigger mess for him to clean up. It’s shameful to admit he ever lose control over himself like that. In a perfect world, nobody should know the exact buttons to push like you do, no word should ever get to him like yours does. But Alastor long since accepted that if you were to ask for his heart, you’ll have it on a silver platter. You’re very firm on taking the stand of martyrdom before you ever ask him for anything, but he likes to think that he’s working towards that.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alastor started towards the kitchen. He hasn’t cook anything for the day yet, and he’s sure that the first-aid kit was still in there from your last tantrum. All this trouble, and he can’t even make a roast out of this. He knows you’re not too fond of meatloaf – or anything he made for you nowadays – but it’ll have to do, since you’re so keen on wrecking his schedule with your childish attempt at a spat and your nonsensical sentimental for that useless life you kept insisting you want back. Despite all of it, he does feel just a tad bit of pity for you. You, and your right arm, the one sitting silently in his left, bleeding all over his carpet floor. Hopefully this will teach you to stop moving around so much next time, you’re not unfamiliar with a broken wrist, but you just kept writhing and clawing at his hands, and his slipped.

Quite frankly, this is still a much better life than for you to be in the same room and so close to those revolting roughnecks and floors stained with Satan-knows-what. He can’t even fathom just why you’re still clinging onto it so tightly when there’s so much for you here. When he’s here.

He stills remember the sinking feeling in his chest when he makes his way to a figure quickly retreating behind the counter, under the dim lights and the rowdiness of a dingy café that barely qualifies as one. He wasn’t sure at first – Hell has a way of masking one’s appearance with a roulette game, and despite his growing contracts and connections, information might just be wrong. You could’ve been exorcised, or even worse, managed to wrangled your way into Heaven somehow and left him down here alone. But he placed his confident in a good friend, who promised him that if this isn’t you, then nobody else can be.

Bless the Christian God himself for his mercy, the moment he let that familiar name fell from his lips again after so many years of living without it, Alastor find himself staring into the same gaze that haunted his waking days and sleepless night. Holding onto you with a bruising grip, when you finally bring yourself to stare back at him like a deer in front of head light, his rotting heart comes alive with a fervor and he knew you’ll never be separated from him ever again. Back in his arms and under his wings.

Despite the time it took and your less-than-ideal reunion, he was more than thrilled to show you he finally made good of himself down here, just like he said he would. As Alastor lead you back with a smile splitting his face open, he tells you all about what he’s been doing. In his house is a room prepared just for you with everything you’ve ever love that he can get his claws on. It used to sit there and taunt him in the night where the silence stretches on and on and nothing in the underworld can distract him from the idea of your separation lasting until the end of time and the end of his life, that for all his preparations to make sure you two will never parted, he managed to miss the one chance he had with you in life. His halls echoed a voice that he barely able to recalled while he chased a shadow he desperately tries to remembers in whatever he can remember of you. The passage of time and his work might take your lovely voice and visage from him, but it will never let him forget how you feel about dark coffee or your favorite composer.

The time he lost being far away from you, the time you both lost being away from each other, Alastor was ready to make up for all of it. With good food, good wine, a good home and a good life. Finally, nobody will ever be able to turn their nose up at you both. If they do, he has more than enough means to fix it. His broadcast station no longer stays dependent on some white hotshot he needs to keep in a good mood at all time, it now plays only the things Alastor wants it to, forever. And now that you’re back, it’ll plays whatever it is you want too. All of it, just for yours and his sake alone. And then you turn your nose up at him, demanding for your old pathetic life back.

Ever since Alastor found you and took you home, you’ve been nothing but ungrateful, unpredictable, and downright hazardous to yourself and his furniture. Nothing like the darling he cared for from way back then. All bites and no barks, that’s what your silly threats and your mischief used to be in life. It’s nothing here, too, but he can only get so far restraining you to your bed until you learn how to break your own hands and slip it through the cuffs. You were always a lot of things, but this vindictive side of you still are so incredibly off-putting to him.

And yet, even with all of this, Alastor’s eroding heart breaks for you. Recently, he discovered an old book, one he took with him from the burning pile of your apartment and kept in his overcoat for a long time. It was a book that you shared with him when you both were alive, he was more than elated once reminded of the fact. Stained with black on the cover and slightly misshapen, the book must’ve gone through so much, considering your occupation at the time. Alastor remembers just how hard it is to get used to the disrespectful crowd down here, even for someone like him who can simply waved his hand and turn them into red paste on the filthy streets. You must’ve been so confused and scared, having to re-familiarized yourself to a new and much more unwelcoming world, making your way through an utterly horrific landscape without him there to help you with.

Naive, kind hearted and gentle you, even when you’ve killed before, you’re an easy prey in an awful, awful world. Mother always reminded him that wounded animal takes time to trust and they bite and clawed their way out of hands that moves too fast, so he need to make good by her words and keep on giving you just that, time. No matter the fact you barely improve, no matter how much time he gave you, or the fact it was him who clawed off your arm in the first place.

So, with a bright attitude, Alastor strides to your shut door with the sounds of your hysteria long gone. He knocks three times and calls out to you, then leave you alone with the first-aid kit. He’ll give you until midnight to do it yourself.

4. Love and hate are a hair away, he realized he hates loving you at times.

You’ve been improving, day by day. You stop biting back so much and starts to listen more, you sit when he asked you to and learned not to talk so brazenly while you’re at it, too. You don’t ever smile, yes, and his hallways still feel so cold at times. You walked as if you’re on eggshells, and you sleep with your body huddled under the blanket, as if there’s something hiding in the dark that will take you away if you dare peak out from it. You stacked books and boxes underneath your bed, too.

At times, Alastor felt like he’s having a guest staying over, maybe it’s because you’re acting more and more like one. Someone whom he knows well enough to accommodate their every need, but there’s an air of unfamiliarity, of the fact they’re not a close enough friend to stay over for so long, and their every decision needed checking. The thought itself is beyond ridiculous, he knew you for years before you died. He’s the closest friend you have, alive or death. He knows how you like your eggs; he memorized your voice; he knows when you need to sleep and when you like to wake up. But he digressed. Progress is progress, you’re getting better day by day, and he only ever have to threatened you a bit at times.

Which must’ve been why it felt so wrong, holding you like this.

He can only hope you won’t be able to discern his heavy panting over your own growing panic. Alastor could’ve sworn that he’s a better man than this, that he has more patience and more tact, already lived through a childhood with his head down and a smile stitched neatly on his lips. But he rationalized the way his pointer and thumb pinch together with the same compassion he have for a stray dog, separate only by your tongue, slowed and unmoving only by his own desire to give you another chance to explain yourself and take back your word and let him returns to his days of thinking you’re getting better, never minded the fact he’s not hearing anything out of his good ear right now. It’s not that he’s drawn to the way your pupils dilating and turned pinprick as your near incoherent pleading slowly cut itself off, realizing this might not end well. It’s not that he’s intently observing the trickle of blood running into the back of your throat, or the way your hot breath hit his hand, unable to close your jaw from the grip he has on you.

From the first dawn of this day until mere minutes ago, things were just lovely. Alastor managed to hold a ten-minute conversation with you in the morning, and by noon, able to coaxed you out of your hiding spot and onto your seat at the table with the promises of getting you whatever else you requested, as long as you keep your manner in check. You raised an eyebrow at the unusual and grand display of dishes for what you must’ve thought was a normal meal, but you stay silent. The four walls in your room had to be decorated by his own hands, and anything you refuses to keep, you throw into the toilet or buried under your growing number of plants out in the garden he’s not allowed to step foot in; thusly, there’s no longer a calendar in your room for you to keep tracks on dates.

When he pulls out a bottle of wine – full bodied, his favorite from when he was alive, it feels like blood sliding down his throats at times – you look at him, your eyes tells a world of distrust as he smile at you and pour it into two glass and hand you one. Alastor could’ve cried true tears of joy when you accepted it without making a fuss and simply placed it by your left, picking up a fork with your dominant hand. You waited for him to say something, before quietly thank him for the food and starts to eat.

For most of the meal, you work away at your own plate while he talks for the both of you. Alastor doesn’t mind, the fact you bothered to pay attention is good enough, occasionally nodding along or giving him a small huff or two. You’ve been doing a great job at staying in line ever since a year ago, especially once you learned you’re also made of flesh, just like the rest of the voices stuck in his broadcast. Alastor would’ve gladly taken this, if not for how you’re glancing off every now and then, contemplating something.

Particularly, you’ve been holding onto your glass for an awfully long time now, drifting off in the middle of him relaying an encounter he had the day before. Alastor pauses when you take it near your face and cleared your throat.

“…It’s not your birthday today.” You said, nonchalantly staring into the bottom of the glass, spinning it to and fro between the middle of your pointer and thumb.

“I’m glad you still remember my birthday, dear. But yes, it’s not! It’s surprising you can even tell what day it is!” he laughs.

You only glance up, before letting out a deep sigh, “You’re way more eager on your birthday.”

“Well then love, would you care to enlighten me on how I am today?” Alastor leans over the table with a smile, mood light and hoping you stop with the implications. You look angsty, however, gently lifting the glass up to your lips and take a small gulp. When you finally look at him again, Alastor felt his smile strains, he knows what that look means.

“What day is it?” with a clink, the glass landed on the table and stay there, “It’s not my birthday, nor is it yours. It’s not a holiday, too, far as I know. “

The corner of his lips pulls taut, his half-lidded eyes stare straight into yours. The sounds of something sharp pulls through the radio, but you refuse to back down. Alastor caved and took his own glass into his right hand.

“I was going to keep it a secret until we finished with our meal, but if you’re so insistent on spoiling the surprise—“ taking a long sip before continuing, if this goes south, he might need something stronger, “—It’s been a year since the day we reunited, right on the dot. I figured we should do something to celebrate, but you’ve always been such a stick in the mud about your past. So, I was going to have us finishing the meal first— “

The clanking of silverwares being drop onto porcelain plate was the first thing he catch, the ear-grating sound of your chair scrapping harshly against the kitchen floor’s the second. With both hand bracing against the table, you look half ready to launch yourself over it and kill him with your bare hands, but you breathe in, back straight, and simply look at him.

“Your mother would be livid if this is the you she knows.”

You looked as if you still have something else to say, but in a second, he have your face in his hand, grinning down at you while the base of his horns itch and creaks.

“Apologies, dear. I think I’ve heard something wrong,” the lights in the room flickered, in between the burning bright and the cold dark, he can only see red, “Do you want to try and repeat that for me?”

“Your fucking mother would’ve hated you.” Over the radio static bursting his own eardrums and your lovely voice spewing utter putrid, he tucked a thumb in before you can properly close your mouth, you clamped down onto it and grinded your teeth. He laughs.

“Oh~ you think you’re so incredibly brave, aren’t you?” sticking in another thumb, Alastor slowly pried your mouth open, the more he does, the quicker your attitude change, “So strong and so special. You can handle yourself just fine without me, can’t you? nothing I do will ever be enough for you.”

“Al—waih—“ you choked out, desperate. But he’s not having it today.

His pointer and thumb pull on your tongue.

Alastor swore up and down, he was raised a tactful and patient man. He followed his mother‘s word very carefully and tries his best to be charitable with you.

With eyes glued onto the trail of his blood, quickly drying on your chin, then to your tongue, with increasing pressure, he can feel his smile splitting open his own face, but there’s no joy to be found in his woeful, heavy heart.

It feels so wrong, holding you like this. He feels so wrong, looking into your eyes. You almost certainly accepted your fate by now, he feels a bit bad for you. So utterly helpless in his hold, realizing just how little power you truly have without his generous love, giving into you and letting you plays out your fantasy, even after everything you did. He knows you’re still getting used to this, he knows you needed more time. Alastor would almost consider this a lesson learned, but the statics blinds him to your pain, and for a moment, all he knew was that he wanted you to feel the same pain as he does.

So, because he loves you so much, because you want to hate him so badly, he ignored your hysterical cries as he pinches down on your tongue, then in one motion, he rips it from your nasty, bitter mouth.

5. Before he realized it, you weighted 21 grams.

It’s almost like he’s haunted, at times. The thought would’ve been amusing.

Humming a tune and walking up the three steps leading to the front door, Alastor eyed the Ficus sitting on either side of him, a brown leaf fell from the lulling branch while he fetching the keys from his pocket with one hand. They’re wilting faster than he can water them. What a shame it really is, not only have you lost your will for everything, you also lost the mood to take care of tacky house plant decor. Maybe he should try for some Begonia next?

“I’m home, love!”

Alastor is greeted with an empty corridor and a faint melody dancing through the air. He can only sigh and step further into his home, heading for the kitchen. Every day he hoped something would magically change, and every day Lucifer laughed at him from the top of his luxurious throne.

You can hear him, he knows you do. You managed to crawl all the way into the studies just to put on a song the moment he steps foot outside the house, after all. It’s a blessing, how you haven’t bolt right back into your room the moment you hear the door opened, you must’ve been in a good mood. He hopes you can stay that way until tomorrow, but it’s fine if you don’t, as long as you’re willing to eat whatever he puts in front of you. He peaked into the spotless kitchen, and with nothing out of place, he stepped inside.

Setting the groceries down, he pulled out everything he needs for dinner. Already with a dish in mind, Alastor whisked out an iron cast pot and set it on the stove. He shooed his shadows off and away, he can prepare for this recipe himself, and he want to be alone for a while anyway. He prepares all the ingredients before getting to the rice. The music flows from upstairs as he works in silence, mindful of his own microphone and keeping it off.

He doesn’t remember this song, it must’ve been one of the newer ones Rosie gave him to give back to you, assuring him you “just need more fun things in your life, then you’ll get to talking again”. Alastor wasn’t sure if you would’ve like it enough for him to keep it, but he wasn’t going to bother fighting with Rosie.

Turning the fire down, he closed the lid and set the kitchen timer to twenty-two on the dot. It should be enough time for him to make the roux, but he can check the rice early. Pouring oil into a pot to his right, he turned the fire up to max and began whisking the flour into it, when it turned brown, he drops the onion in and lower the heat to medium.

If not for him constantly reminding you, you would’ve ignored the needle-like pain in your stomach. Granted, you ignore it even when he did remind you, so he took to just make things and leave it in your room until you’re in the mood to eat. It’s been going on for two years now, enough time for him to regret playing into your hands and losing his temper. Alastor had hope that if he were to deprived you of everything he’s willing to give you for some times, you would finally get it through your thick skull that he only ever wanted good for you. Only, the you that greeted him after three long month was silent and still, lying on your bed with close eyes. The only sign you’re still alive in the first place was your breathing, almost invisible to the common eye.

He remembers hovering over you, a finger set on your chin and pulls it down. With an odd lump in his throat and a heaviness he rarely knows of, Alastor let out a weak chuckled, watching as a reformed lump of meat pulsates and weakly twitching in place of your tongue. Turns out, without the correct nutrients, the citizen of hell could only pray that whatever injury they obtained will kill them faster than they can heal it. And just as fate would have it, you’ve been holding onto such a thing ever since he locked you in.

Maybe that’s why your eyes haven’t change since, maybe that’s why you refuse to talk, maybe it still hurts, and maybe you afraid of getting used to the comfort he provides you. Or maybe you hated him for it, he wouldn’t know, you never really made yourself clear since that day. It’s the longest you’ve ever gone without anything that he gave you, and he’s trying his best now to make sure it’ll stay the longest you will ever go without anything ever again.

The roux turned a dark, shiny brown. He added almost everything else and stirs it for five minutes sharp. Quickly checking the rice once the timer calls for his attention, Alastor turned off the fire and reaches for the tomatoes and stocks. The music from upstairs come to a halt.

It’s became synonymous with you now, silent and stillness. Somewhere in the middle of an evening, Alastor came to the oddly upsetting realization that you just as well never return to the same you that he was trying so hard to recover.

Throwing in the two ingredients, he raises the heat back to high. When it began to boils, he puts it to medium and let it simmers for six minutes. A shadow came by and whispered winds and chimes into his flickering left ear, you’re back in your room with the gramophone.

When he was alive, every moment spent with you was bright and different. You were a wild spark of fire in the cold city, silently chasing after dreams with a caring and delicate heart. Your shared mirth used to fill the room as you talk over jazz and the constant chattering from loudmouth patrons. Those days became the only thing he held onto in the midst of his busy life down here.

Then one day, within his first few years of working his way up the ladder, still without your shadow haunting the empty room in his house; Alastor looked back on those days, the better days, and realized he can’t remember the exact note of your voice, he can only recall that you were happy. So he hunts down every corner of hell in a rush, afraid that the rest of you will slip away again. He laughs silently to himself; a meaningless thought crosses his mind. Is there even any of you left to fall through his fingers?

Putting the heat to low and adding in butter, he stirs until it blends and throws the shrimps and scallions in and something else hit him. He hasn’t been able to pin down the exact note and tone you tend to laugh in yet, nor have he able to watch any of your painting comes to life. He kept on stirring, after three minutes, he added seasoning. He catches a faraway song, barely making out the notes, he thinks that’s your favorite.

For weeks now, he kept going over everything he could’ve done wrong. Although he tries to ignore it, the animosity you shown since the second you saw him in Hell, maybe even before you’re dead, it might’ve stemmed from before he chased you down in the woods. But you know what he can do even in life, and you should’ve known Alastor would never hunt you down just to lock you inside the cacophonies he broadcasts on the daily. Alastor can at least understand that he struggled between giving into you and maintaining control. Perhaps that’s where your path diverts, perhaps you’re not meant to be by his side after all, ever since the day you die. Maybe you died before he even got to buried you, but Alastor can no longer pinpoint since when you died because he doesn’t know since when you started to play along with him. All he knows is that if he were to stops your breathing today, you’ll wake up tomorrow with no faith lost in him. The thought sits in his stomach and made itself home. But that’s alright.

Alastor rather stomached the idea of breaking you, the alternative was worse. If a life time of chasing your shadow only resulted in endless hate, that’s alright to him. As long as you’re still breathing and by his side, there’s surely a place for him in your heart. Surely.

His microphone sudden sparks up to life and died again. Right, the food, dinner. He gets to setting up your plate.

Having lived for this long, Alastor’s used to playing along and getting along with the oddest of crooks. He’s unsure of how to ever get along with you, though. You have been nothing but nasty and callous before, but at least you talk and react. Now, you walk at a slowed pace, no longer making any sort of distinguishable noise as you do. Less of a guest, and more of a transparent image of someone he barely able to call himself an acquaintance to.

Or more precisely, it’s as if he’s fostering a ghost in his own home, and now he’s going through all the troubles that came with one. At first, the ghost thrashed and trashed everything, confused and in pain and determined to hurt. Then, the ghost calmed and it starts making compromises to try and look for a way out. What he have now, Alastor muses as he plated your meal and ready his heart, is the melancholy of the ghost. When the grieving and the anger and the bargaining and the hurt passes on and left the shell behind, there’s only ever the emptiness lingering.

The stairs creaks under his shoes, shadows hanging around the corner and slowly melts back under Alastor as he walks by. One in particular waits on your door and chirps when he stepped towards it, seemingly in a good mood, its laughter akin to windchime as it reconnects itself to him. He ignores it and knock three times to give you time and hide away whatever it was you’re working on. The music kept on playing, a vulgar but joyous song burst through the door the instant he opens it, Alastor swallowed his disdain and step inside with a smile.

“Lovely tune, dear. Is it one of Rosie’s discs?” facing out the window, you sit at your desk, long void of the marks from your first tantrum. From here, he can see your index finger tapping gently to the beat, you must’ve memorized it. “Certainly interesting taste you both shared…but I’ll make sure to ask her for more.”

Living with the melancholy of the ghost means you know there’s something there, behind the peeling wallpaper and below the hollowed floorboards. You talk to it every day. You tell it about the dreams you abandoned on the sidewalk since you were a child in favor of carving out a path for yourself, you tell it about your day. You whispered words heavy with affection in the morning and practice your apology to it in the night. You do all of it, knowing it doesn’t have the vocal cord to formulate words, knowing even if it does, it won’t talk to you anymore. But you have hope.

Akin to whispering into an empty seashell, he supposed, there’s always the sounds of the waves hiding deep inside, but there’s no voice. He should get you some seashells, maybe that can give you some joy.

“I figured you’d like something a bit more filling, so shrimp étouffée it is! I met sir Vox on the way to the grocer, and we have a rather pleasant chat. He mentioned some talkies I think you’d quite enjoy, too.” he laugh, standing behind you. Alastor catches the charcoal line on white paper, knitting together to create a familiar figure that he just can’t quite put together yet, more taken aback by the fact you haven’t bothered to cover it up at all. He divert his eyes and place the plate down, right by your left hand. “But you wouldn’t ever be in the mood for it, and it sounds far from my taste, so I turn down the offer to go with him.”

Living with a ghost means you see shadows in the corners of your eyes and hear your familiar home echoes a thousand scream at night, but living with its melancholy means plunging deep under the ocean floor and hearing nothing but the silent of the water. Where there’s supposed to be sound, there’s only the slight echoes of one, barely reaching your ears under the blue. You learn to embrace the silence and linger in its weightlessness.

His ears flickered twice when a sigh escaped your lips, barely audible under the belting of a jazz singer. Alastor let his right hand lingered by your shoulder, you shrink a bit under his touch, he doesn’t move.

“The Ficus died. I was hoping they last longer than the roses would, but you were right,” Leaning in just a bit closer, Alastor laugh, “I never really have a talent for cultivating plants, it seems.”

And then one day, you look back, and maybe you’ll finally see that there was no ghost. And you’re all alone in a house that used to be a home, with dirt under your fingernails and blood leaking under your door. And while you drag a corpse to its final resting place, you hear dogs barking and feel rows of sharp teeth bit into your arms, there’s a familiar clicking sound. When you look up, the world embraces you in a white and burning pain for a single tick of a second. And then you came back to life, just as new. In a new house, in a new world, you do it all over again, you go and look for the ghost.

But a ghost is see-through and rigid cold and it held onto regrets it can never fulfill with cold hands and misty eyes. You’re warm and tangible and alive under his hands even after everything but he’s not sure if you still have any regrets you haven’t given up on, other than meeting him. Having a ghost haunts him would’ve bring less heartache, too.

Ever since you came back into his life, you came back wrong. And every attempt to understand you, to bring back the old you, the you he adores, the you he longed for, only ever serves to buried that you six more feet under the ground. He hates to admit defeat, but he thinks you won’t ever be the same anymore.

“I’ll think I’ll get some Gardenia and Begonia tomorrow for the front porch, but you should keep some in here. It must be boring only seeing the same five things a day, love.” With that, he slinks back out the hallway. Taking a final look of you, he closed the door without a goodbye, he never felt well saying such a thing to you anymore. As Alastor walks back down to the kitchen, another song plays out from your room.

Like the rest of the plants Alastor inevitably rots but refusing to stop holding onto, you also rot. His dinner table is set for two, and one of them is for a corpse. For the rest of the night, like every night, he drowned out the sound from your room with a bottle of whiskey and the thought of a you he can barely recalled. Without knowing what he’s holding onto, Alastor came to an oddly hallowing realization that he might've never know you at all.

He hoped you won't know, but maybe that's why you let him see your sketchbook.

(if he’s a ghost, will you let him hold you again)

#alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshot #hazbin hotel oneshots

[anqelically]

hi ava!! congrats on 300!! ♡

i love your event sm, i am a sucker for angst! how abt dazai + dialogue 8 :,)

shizukana wakare | osamu dazai x gn!reader

word count: 0.6k

content: no manga spoilers, angst

navi | bsd masterlist | event (closed)

you never completely understood him.

osamu dazai— an enigma of a man that always kept you on your toes. it was the mysterious air around him that lured you in. his coffee-brown eyes, lacking any semblance of light, guided you through the darkness. and though he led you through it, you knew you’d never escape.

you grew up in the shadows of yokohama. you stole food to get by and manipulated others to get what you needed. being alone starting from such a young age forced you to learn how to fend for yourself, even if the methods weren’t ethical.

no one else was there to teach you otherwise.

and even when you were recruited— no, forced into the port mafia, almost no one tried to change your ways. almost. there was someone. he was older than you by a couple of years and already in his 20s.

sakunosuke oda did not kill no matter the circumstances. he was a low-ranking port mafia member who was handed trifling missions. for someone in the port mafia, he was quite strange. and for an organization brimming with odd individuals, that was saying something.

he did not belong in the organization, that was easy to understand. oda deserved much more than to be in the port mafia.

oda was caring towards you. when he started to take care of a couple of children after the dragon head conflict, you were sure that it was just in his nature to try to take care of people like you, orphans who had no one else to guide them.

you knew he tried, that man. yet your soul, wallowing in despair, could only find solace in another who was in the same state. that person was dazai, the boy you met through oda.

he may bleed red, but the crimes he committed are enough to turn the blood running through his veins black. and maybe because the two of you were so similar, you couldn’t let dazai go. out of all the people you knew, he understood you the best.

and that’s why you couldn’t bear to see him leave.

you knew that growing attached to someone like him was a dangerous game, yet you couldn’t help yourself. loving dazai was a gamble of its own, and you could feel everything you bet on slipping away.

something else happened that day, the day oda died. you were hurt too, yet you knew there was another conflict within dazai’s mind. and whatever it was, you were scared of its effect. because now, a few days later, dazai was going to leave you too. you asked him to stay, but you knew all too well that it wasn’t going to happen.

“you can’t…” you held the fabric of his black jacket tightly. “i can’t live without you. please, please don’t leave me behind too.”

the alleyway was quiet, and you felt like the walls were beginning to close in. the air was slowly suffocating you as you awaited for dazai’s response, hands still tight on his jacket.

“i can’t stay in the port mafia anymore,” dazai said, his words cutting through the tension. his tone was colder than usual, you noticed. “i can’t stay, and you can’t leave. this… whatever this is, it isn’t meant to be.”

his words, short in numbers, were anything but lies. he was right, of course he was. you couldn’t imagine a life outside of the one you have now, and that’s why you couldn’t leave with him. a life of crime is all that you know, so you wouldn’t change even if you did leave with dazai.

“but even a cold-blooded killer can change,” you can hear oda’s voice ring in your ears.

you thought, ‘but not me’

your shoulders slumped in defeat, arms dropping to your sides. there was no point in holding dazai back anymore, not when he was willing to try to change. even if there was something special between the two of you, you weren’t enough for him to stay. the moments you spent in each other’s arms, or the late nights out in the city would never be enough.

you were ready to leave when dazai suddenly wrapped his long coat around your shoulders. you touched the fabric, looking up at him in surprise. although no words were spoken, you knew what he was telling you— a part of him will continue to be with you, even if he does leave.

and in the following moments as dazai walked away, the sky cried with you.

note: the title is supposed to mean silent goodbye, so if it’s wrong then uhh blame the translating website 🙈 but rylie thank you so much for requesting !! <3 i can’t use my laptop anymore sadly :(( so the uploading process is even more annoying compared to before </3

reblogs are appreciated + join my taglist !

@seisitive @enomane @er0ses @spenzitz @wineaddict2904 @aeshiiteiru @chuuyrr @ashthemadwriter @sanjis-fav-w1fe @bejeweledgirl @ma3mae @piichuu @dreamlessimp @4nthonyyliving @ruru-kiss

#୨୧ [ writing ] #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai x you #osamu dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai #dazai #dazai angst #bsd drabbles #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd angst

[donelywell]

My interpretation of how Chaos Energy and Super Powers work in the Sonic Universe.

Enough people asked for it, so here's my ramble! This is all completely headcanon, I just wanted to make Chaos Energy more integrated into the world than it actually is in the games. It's been cooking in my brain ever since I got back into Sonic, and it's only been growing as I've continued. I don't believe this is how it actually works in canon, but this is how it works in my Headcanon Shatterverse Headscape Place (tm).

Chaos Emeralds can be used by anyone once they are properly judged, filling the user with insane amounts of clean Chaos Energy. Since having that much Chaos Energy inside you is a health risk, that's why you lose rings over time when you're Super. When a user runs out of rings, they become exhausted, passing out on the spot. But as a user gets more and more adjusted to the Emeralds, they can drop their super form before losing all of their rings, thus not over exerting themselves.

I haven't fully ironed out how the Chaos Emeralds (or the Master Emerald) work here yet, so I'll have to come back to this some other time.

But being able to use Chaos Energy is different from harnessing the Chaos Emeralds.

Example: Sonic is able to go Super with the Emeralds, but he has a Chaos Ability: His speed.

The way I show if a character has a Chaos Ability is with colored markings on them.

(This is a recent thing I started implementing, so I gotta redesign some characters like Shadow, Sonic, and Knuckles)

Example of characters with Chaos Abilities: Tangle, Blaze, Kit, and Silver.

They have a color wrapped around their ear and iris, and most of their beans have the color too. Plus they got patterns on them with said color.

Characters without Chaos Abilities for example are Whisper, Tails, and Amy.

They all have extraordinary abilities, but those are either because of a weapon, or they're gifted in that skill (like a Guinness book of world records person).

Chaos Abilities are not too common, but not enough Mobians have them to call it a 50/50 split.

A Mobian can have their Chaos Ability appear when they are 5 years old. The child often has a huge celebration to see if they will get an ability or not.

When the user has their Chaos Ability develop, it doesn't take too much for them to get tired, but as they continue to use it, they can use their abilities longer and do more daunting stunts with them. 

In the future, when a user starts out, they normally need to wear Chaos Energy Inhibitor Rings (which looks a lot like Silvers cuffs wink wink nudge nudge) to suppress their inner Chaos Energy until they can get a hold of it. The more powerful the Natural Chaos Energy is, the more Inhibitor Rings you gotta wear. A user can survive without them, it’s just safer for everyone if they do wear them when they get started.

The ability's difficulty is based purely on how much Chaos Energy the user naturally has. It also affects what the ability a user will get by how much energy they have, sort of as their body's way of figuring out how to use it properly. (Mobians without Chaos Abilities have Chaos Energy too, it's just not enough to give them an ability)

If they are a Low-Level Natural Chaos Energy User: it's stupid easy for them to master it. Because their body doesn't need to do as much work. Pyrokinesis and Stretching Limbs are fairly easy to master because of that.

High-Level Natural Chaos Energy Users have a hard time grasping how to use their abilities at first, some even needing training from people with similar abilities to get out of Chaos Energy Ring Inhibitors. Super Speed and Telekinesis are a few difficult abilities to master.

You can tell if someone has too much Chaos Energy or not enough by looking at their markings. Too much will have the already glowy patterns light up BRIGHT, while if the user doesn't have much left, it becomes a dull light.

Like a lightbulb, if there’s a lot of power in it, it’ll shine REALLY BRIGHT, but too much and it’ll pop. If there’s little to no power in it, it’ll flicker and fade into a dim light until it eventually turns off.

Chaos Abilities have 2 branches: a sort of projection ability or a physical one.

Projection is like your stereotypical 'this guy has powers!' ability. Pyrokinesis, Aquakinesis, and Telekinesis are a few examples. The user well... uses the Chaos Energy inside them to bend the Chaos Energy that flows freely around them to do what their Ability is.

The Chaos Energy in the air is different from the Chaos Energy inside the user. It's like water. The energy inside of the user is some sort of food dye and the Chaos Energy in the air is like water, when the 2 mix, the water (chaos energy) outside changes into what your dye (users chaos energy) is and spreads it to wherever you choose.

Projection Chaos Abilities are fairly common.

Projection Chaos Users get drained physically if they use their abilities for too long, since they are technically spewing their Chaos Energy out into the world.

Physical are rarer (I’m talking 1/1,000 chance). Since it physically enhances or changes the user. The ability to stretch your tail to comical lengths, super speed, and changing your size at will are a few examples. The user is like a sponge, they soak up the Chaos Energy around them and the energy inside of them guides it to do what it needs to do.

Physical Chaos Users feel worn out if they over exert themselves because they have to hold so much Chaos Energy inside of them.

There are legitimate health risks if either over exert themselves.

Projection Chaos Users can actually put their life at risk if they lose all of their Chaos Energy, since every living being needs at least some to survive. If a user uses everything, they better have a Chaos rich thing nearby or they'll pass out. At worst, they could be in a coma (well, aside from death, but that's very hard to do) as their body is forcibly trying to recover. The user recovers Chaos Energy naturally by eating or resting, so a good way to replenish the energy used in a fight is to eat a quick snack or take a nap.

Physical Chaos Users can overcharge if they absorb too much, since they're taking in so much Chaos Energy. Too much energy could potentially lead to a person to literally catch on fire as their body is trying to burn the energy away. The user typically runs a higher temperature (and steam if it's a lot) when they naturally release the energy they built up inside them, basically giving them a fever. This is their body trying to safely burn away the excess energy. If the user wants to recover faster, you should give them a heated blanket or something to warm them up.

Shadow is a special case because he literally lives off the Natural Chaos Energy that the Chaos Emeralds and Master Emerald release into the world. Where a normal Chaos User can live perfectly fine if there isn't any Natural Chaos Energy outside because of the stored Chaos Energy inside of them, Shadow will be seriously ill if there isn't any Natural Chaos Energy outside since he doesn't have any inside of him.

And that's all, I hope my ramblings made even an ounce of sense.

#chaos energy theory #chaos energy