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icyblogs · 6 days

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flesh and bone

Winter represents many things. The start of a new season. The beginnings to an end. Or the beginnings of a new start. Years finally caught up to you, finally knowing enough to summon a creature able to fulfill things beyond your wildest imagination. So why is it that you're now finding out that everything was orchestrated from the very start? Or: A DND au where a human falls into the clutches of a fiend and his guard dog. (chapter 2!) Patron!Ghost x Fem!Reader x Warlock!Soap WC: 7.2K [AO3] First chapter -> Next Chapter Warnings: dark fic!! dubcon touching, noncon kissing, mentions of death, paranoia, gaslighting, reader has a backstory to make sense for plot, reader is a little silly, johnny being an overall menace, ghost doing ghost things.

Time came and passed, but it was nothing discernable. Consciousness not quite ever being fully up and running the times you did briefly wake up. There were voices- you think- but it was hard to tell. And with the sound came the feeling of phantom hands, fingers trailing over your skin. Limbs being moved, the brief moment of pain being settled with hushed whispers of apologies. It was hard to think, hard to function. Darkness spreads. Sand trickles through the hourglass. The sun rises and falls, the hours turning into days.

It wasn’t waking up with a gasp, that would be too theatrical. Too novel of an idea, of waking up so sudden and everything being fine and dandy. That you’d be up and raring to go. It was a slow process, one that made every nerve flare up at once- merely the process of peeling your eyelids open enough to have some sort of idea of what had happened to you. Blearily looking around from your limited vantage point, gaze floating around aimlessly, not able to properly focus on anything. The area was dimly lit for one- almost to the point of making it even more difficult to properly take a look at everything.

An attempt to lift your head from the object below it- soft yet solid- was made before a jolt of lightning seemed to shoot down your spine, curling through your nerve endings and then back again, ending back at the nape of your neck. A choked whimper makes it out through clenched teeth, a grimace painting your features. Your brain feels like mush, surroundings blurring to the point of becoming unrecognizable. Not wanting to move your head, let alone anything above your shoulders in fear of retribution striking down yet again.

The sound of a chair creaking resounds throughout the room, and it was difficult to remember any sense of self preservation, eyes continuing to roll around in a weak attempt to figure out exactly what was going on. It was hard exactly to remember what had happened- you .. were somewhere. The mountains, right? Where were you–

“Took ye long enough.” Too loud though his voice was barely above a normal volume, and your eyes squeeze close as if that would cause the onslaught of noise to dissipate. “Ah ‘m sorry hen, forgot you’d still be a wee bit sensitive.” Hushed this time, and when you mustered the strength- his blue eyes were staring straight back at you. Distant thoughts drift through your subconsciousness. The.. half-elf, right? The blue was darker than you’d remembered: Iolite, sodalite, lapis lazuli in a swirl of an emotion you couldn’t quite catch before his brow furrows in what seemed to be concern. He looked familiar- though.. Different. More rough- more aged; his hair longer in this style, flowing down to the nape of his neck. Scars covered his face, though it was hard to pick which one exactly to focus on: the one by his chin, over his eye, adorning his temple. Your eyes fall half-lidded, struggling to remain in the present.

A frown graces your lips, one he was quick to lean forwards to do something about. Encroaching in your personal space like he owned it, like you were friends, like you anything but strangers. There wasn’t a moment nor opportunity to move as one of his large hands cups the back of your head, careful of the wound near it- his other hand coming up and wiping the crust from your eyes, his fingers almost trembling. His skin was warm, but rough. You could only stare dumbfounded, letting the man move you like a doll as your tongue darts out to wet your chapped lips. He watches the motion unblinkingly, his own lips parting in response, breath catching in his chest.

“Y-You..” A cough, resulting in swallowing a few times to get your bearings. Voice hoarse, like sand coating your tongue. Your mouth opens and then closes, repeating that a few times as you then sniffle. Feeling the familiar burn rise to your eyes, tears further blurring what was already starting to become disconnected from the world, one of his thumbs brushing away the moisture trickling down your skin. Trying to move, but your limbs weren’t necessarily cooperating. Like a puppet with its strings cut off, privy to his hands which seemed to be holding the strings. Everything felt heavy. Lost. Disconnected. “Where..?”

To his credit, his expression didn’t even once waver that you could tell. Eyes fervently bright, betraying his weak attempt at comforting you. His head cocks, leaning forwards and nudging at your face with his nose, a grimace painting your features as he inhales deeply. An elven custom you didn’t know about maybe? “Shh.. Sh.. Yer safe now.” One hand still cupping the back of your head he leans back for a brief moment, procuring a silver chalice. He starts to lift your head and upon seeing the immediate discomfort at the movement, he only coos, hand leaving your cheek. His eyebrows furrow, scanning your face, and then he takes a swig of the liquid.

There was but a brief moment of still air before his lips came crashing against yours. Any thought you might’ve had immediately leaves as sheer panic makes its way through the foggy seams instead. Wiggling like a mouse scrambling to try and not get caught in a trap it hadn’t fully been aware of. And like adhesive, his hand firmly sticks to and cradles the back of your head, his other pressing against your sternum when another attempt to feebly twist away was made. Lukewarm liquid spills down your skin, as he squeezes a bit harder, your lips parting in a garbled gasp as he bullies his way into your mouth, transferring the fluid into your system.

There was a shift in the room as his body hovered over yours. What you now vaguely recognize was actually water going down your throat, similar to his tongue as it seems to ignore your lack of hygiene, trying to steal your breath away, licking your teeth, your gums, trying to consume your essence like a dog getting a bone as a treat- like he was trying desperately to get your soul intertwined with him; to connect you two together. More water spills as the bed shifts slightly against the wall in a rhythmic pattern for but a brief moment, glassy eyes wide as you stare back at his blissful expression as he groans into your mouth.

It was maybe a minute at most but it felt like ages, dizzy and lightheaded as he finally pulled back from you. “See, ‘s all good, isn’t it?” The blue eyed elf cheeks were flushed, the connected string of saliva between the two of you being taken away as his tongue ran from the corner of your lips up to your nose. He then proceeds to rest his forehead against yours, his even breathing combined with your haggard ones in the small space, as if finally recognizing you weren’t responding to what he just did. “Need mor’ water, hen?” You think you were going to be sick, eyes once more rolling to the side to try and peer away from him, feeling weighed down to the bed by more than just his hands.

Disbelief. Panic. Terror. So many emotions washes over your features in an amalgamation of just a whirlwind of ‘what the fuck’. Your head was pounding, the only sound in the room was a consistent pulse, badump badump badump. Unable to stop the steady trickles of teardrops as they fall, and his head tilts slightly against your skin once more, falling forwards as he rubs his temple against yours, his facial hair tickling your cheek. He inhales deeply once more, unabashedly, before letting out what seemed to be a sigh of content.

He speaks your name softly, a hushed whisper. “Why’re ye so quiet?” The tears start to fall faster and you hiccup, facial expression crumpling. He immediately pulls back, eyes scanning your expression, his own filtering into one of confusion and then adjusting itself to an easy going smile. You were definitely going to be sick. “‘S Johnny, remember? None of them tears, ye hear me? There’s nae need for ‘em. You’re safe now, yeah?”

Johnny? John. Ah. Right, that was his name. How could you have forgotten?

Johnny adjusts his hands, one coming up to cup your cheek, squeezing ever so slightly as you start to speak. “I don’ feel so good-”

“Need a bucket?” Another wave of confusion hits you as you squint up at him, watching as he continues to smile, thumb brushing away one of the many tears despite how they just seem replaced by more twofold. It was getting harder and harder to tell what was real and what was not- he.. kissed you, right? Shoved his tongue down your throat so why was he acting like nothing had happened? Was it truly a custom you weren’t aware of? You weren’t friends- hell, you barely remember the guy besides he was the one that gave you that dumb list you’ve spent years of your life on. And along with his stupidly blue eyes. And dumb haircut.

Stomach twisting and churning, gulping hard as your eyebrows pull together. He must’ve known something you didn’t because his hands left you, and in but a brief moment, you were over the side of the bed, emptying nothing but water and stomach acid into the steel of a bucket. Ignoring the searing pain shooting up your spine as you cough out phlegm, gagging as you spill your guts. Your throat felt tight, constrained and small as one of his hands held back your hair the best he could, the other gently rubbing your back- the heat of his palm prominent even through the thick fabric of what you were wearing. “I ken, I ken, it’s hard the first time. Gets better ye know, the more you come into contact with ‘im.”

You only hack up more bile, sniffling as snot and tears run down your face, finding it hard to breathe as you rasp into the bucket. As if purging the waste and exiling it from your body. Eventually the fit dies down, as does the pain in your neck falling to a dull throb. Noticeable, but not enough to make you want to never move again. He begins to slowly lead you out of bed, easily handling your weight as you stumble around like a newly born faun, trying not to trip over your own feet as he leads you to an ornate bathroom. A light fixture buzzes on- gold, blinding.

Nothing was really.. Getting explained. Despite your garbled and weak protests, he helps you use the bathroom, not bothering to look away as he helps you clean up. His broad frame crowding you against the countertop as he brushes your teeth, holding your stare as he does so. Smile widening as he makes you squeak, one hand spread across your jugular, the other making your eyes flutter around as he scrubs at your tongue and teeth, choking on the bristles when he goes back too far.

And when he brings your befuddled form back to what you can now see is a bedroom of sorts- also grand, embellished. Larger than what anything you’ve seen before- than what you felt you deserved: it was easy to think you’re in Castle Waterdeep or Dragonspear Castle. Tucked away and brought to a place far above where a person of your status should be, somewhere that should’ve been inaccessible. During all this you try to talk to the man as he dragged you to one of the wardrobes; the questions you ask never getting a real answer- always something cryptic that you couldn't digest properly. Honestly it felt like riddles, like he was trying to imitate a sphinx- purposefully being cryptic to mess with your head further.

“I- I can dress.. myself.” He only shushes you like you were some sort of fussy child, as if you didn’t know any better yet. Maneuvering you as he pleases, dressing you in a long, drapey gown, embroidered with gold, layers upon layers. Unashamedly pawing at skin, hands lingering far too long to be considered ‘gentlemanly’, squeezing as he pleases. You were dressed and adorned like some sort of lady of high nobility, extravagant jewelry hanging from your neck, from your wrists- loud and noisy, like a bell going off saying ‘here I am!’ every time you moved.

“You wan’ breakfast, hen?” His voice was a low murmur, nose rubbing against your neck absentmindedly, hands trailing down the long sleeves to your hands, interlacing the fingers together. “Of course ye do, you’ve been out cold fer a week.” He moves your hands to your stomach, chin hooking into place on your shoulder, body towering over yours. The bracelets chime in response.

This..must’ve been some sort of fever dream.. Right? What was happening? Why was he here with you- so many ‘whys’, and yet no answer seems to be greeting you. Maybe this was the feywild, and you’ve fallen under a charm; perhaps this is just an odd hallucination. Or maybe.. The afterlife? The fugue plane, somewhere within the City of Judgement, waiting to be taken to the Crystal Spire, my soul to be judged and appraised by Kelemvor.

There was only one reasonable conclusion- one that made sense considering you’d saw him all those years ago after the incident, like a grim reaper ready to claim its prize or like a devil scoping out its next contract- “Are you a Baatezu?” It was a mere mumble, and he huffs out a laugh, tightening his grip on you for a brief moment, before letting go and spinning you towards him.

“Do I look like a devil to ye?” He muses, eyes filled with amusement. As if the thought of him being from the Nine Hells was humorous. He continues to smile despite your clear hesitance- so warm as it carves lines into his cheeks, his eyes crinkling. It felt so genuine; hospitable and welcoming that you almost had a hard time imagining him being a bad guy. This all must’ve been some big miscommunication right? Something got lost in translation; he.. He’s helped you. There’s a roof over your head, he has kept you alive for the past supposed- he hasn’t necessarily harmed you right? Kissed you sure- but he was just.. Giving you water. Johnny.. is just a bit too touchy for your liking, but harmless, you think- like an overzealous dog with too much energy to go around.

“Well, maybe- I..” Your neck throbs as you eye him apprehensively, and then the same gaze drifts down to the bracelets donning your wrists, experimentally flexing your fingers, hearing the metals cling against each-other as your wrists move. “..I just.. I’m not dead?” That sparks a laugh out of him, a full bodied one that makes your ears burn with embarrassment, faltering as you start to backtrack. “I- Well- I only meant-”

“I ken, I ken- I know what ye meant. It’s scary for ye, isn’t tha’ right? A new place. But yer here now, okay?” He interrupts you off gently, reassuring you through your clear apprehension, as he starts to herd your body towards the door. A shepherd leading a lamb, blindly to whatever fate waits them.

A grandiose hallway greets you, one side being doors, the other sprawling windows: the views simply breathtaking. The scenery is enough to momentarily distract you from the situation- offering a brief moment of solace. Endless rolling hills stretch as far as the eye could see, adorned with a vibrant tapestry of flowers in every hue of the rainbow. The sunlight shines brightly over the landscape; casting a sort of glow over it that makes it seem like one of those places straight out of a fairytale- like something only seen in a book. It was enough to make your steps falter and Johnny accounts for the movement, or lack thereof, slowing to a halt as he too peers out the scenery beyond the panes.

“Oh it’s.. Beautiful.. But where exactly is ‘here’?”

“I know it is. What’da see hen?” He asks instead- voice hushed as if afraid he’d break the atmosphere, no longer looking outside but at you instead.

Your mouth opens and then closes, and you gesture outwardly with your arm, one of the bangles glinting in the light. Your eyebrows furrow as a sudden realization hits you, wasn’t it almost Midwinter? “Well.. well there’s flowers I-.. in Midwinter. And the sun.. I- Are we even along the Sword Coast? Or..” You try to pick your brain, thinking, unsure. You were in Faerûn, right? Your stomach twists, swallowing down the bile- forcing a smile on your lips. He saved you, you repeat, unsure if you were just trying to convince yourself at this point or not. Making it easier that way- not wanting to confront the truth. “Maybe up at the Dalelands?”

He makes a sort of noncommittal hum, and as you twist your head to look up at him, he nods. His gaze travels to the window once more, almost melancholic, before his jaw clenches and then he looks back at you with a smile, just a little bit tighter than before. “Yeah. Now how ‘bout a wee bit of breakfast, hm?”

More questions add to the ever expanding stack as you walk alongside him. The marble feels borderline warm beneath your bare feet as he leads you down to a pair of doors, and upon entering it was large, with a sprawling table: fit for a small country it seemed. What must’ve been a hundred chairs lined the grand hall. The ceiling soars high above, reminiscent of a cathedral back in the city, adorned with oversized chandeliers that seem to dwarf any you’ve seen before. The crystals catch the light from the rose window, creating a mesmerizing display of refracted colors that seem to dance along the wooden surfaces. It looked like a place for Gods to dine in- or a king or queen; not you. You used to be of nobility, sure, but that lifestyle had died and the title with it all those years ago. Practically living as a commoner for the past five years rather than someone of high class, and well, you certainly didn’t belong here, despite being dressed in the part to be. Out of touch and way out of your element.

Johnny escorts you to the table, making a point to sit you down next to the chair at the end of the table. The elf sort of hesitates, eyes glancing at the floor next to the chair before making his place known across from you. He makes some sort of gesture- and mute, placid faces approach- seemingly out of the dark recesses of the room as they start to work around the table efficiently. No words were exchanged, solely focused on the singular task at hand- not even stopping when you’d ask what was being served.

“Naw bonnie, you’ll like it- made sure they knew to get all yer favorites.” Johnny starts to eat, devouring the meal with such gusto as if he hadn’t had a morsel in days- his words not fully registering in your mind. But as soon as they do it’s all you hear. They play like a broken record, causing you to stiffen, the room spinning as your gaze travels down to your plate. Lo and behold- there it all was all laid out before you. Your gaze travels from item to item- a sense of unease creeping up on you- everything you loved is there, down to the little honeycakes your mother used to make, decorated with powdered sugar and frosting swirled on top.

Your hands firmly clasp one over the other, biting down on your lip harshly, the wound on the back of your neck beginning to tingle. “I’m not hungry.”

“Of course ye are.” He remarks dismissively, mouth full of food. “Just open yer bonnie mouth and eat. Unless ye need me tae feed you?”

It might have been a joke- but his heavy gaze was anything but funny. Swallowing thickly, you shake your head. Hunger does gnaw at your stomach, but at this point you think you might be sick again. “Are we in the feywild?” His fork drops, and you hold your gaze on the table before raising it to meet his. His eyes seemed darker- the shadows more prominent, but maybe it was just a trick of the light.

“Naw why’re you continuing on and on and on. I told ye-” Johnny’s eyebrows furrow as he scowls, like he was reprimanding an unruly pet, looking annoyed in every sense of the word. “-Ye were safe now, and yet you’re tryin’ tae make it seem like ah’m the bad guy here. Dae ye wan’ to make ‘im mad? Cause’ ye won’ like ‘im for a welcoming party. I’ve been so nice to ye. I’m the one here-” His voice was growing louder, starting to look angry more than sad- looking one moment away from going across the table. Blue eyes wide, nails digging into the wood grooves of the table, scratching little crescent shaped indents into them. “Ah’m the one whose gone through all the trouble cause i’d knew ye’d be perfect and now all ‘m seeing is an ungrateful little-”

He recoils slightly, as if suddenly choked and he coughs, face contorting in dismay. His complexion drains of color, betraying his unease and he gulps hard. You shift uncomfortably, a grimace of your own painting your features- too much happening at once to properly digest what was being said. Only the fact that you needed to get out and leave. He tilts his head, muttering something in a language- Elvish, you think, before he picks up his fork, stabbing a piece of meat with more force than necessary. “Naw, ‘m sorry bonnie, didn’t mean to scare ye.” He apologizes, gaze meeting yours with a pitiful attempt at reassurance, though his smile seems strained. Trying to calm you down, if you were to take a guess. But his teeth were just a bit too sharp- eyes too wild, reminding you that at the end of the day he was a stranger, one that was easily set off at the slightest bit of provocation it seemed. Admitting it to yourself was only inevitable despite how you were trying to make excuses: you could banter back and forth endlessly, but he abducted you. ..You think. The logistics aren’t fully there. Saved you from certain death sure- thinking back to the fuzzy memories on the mountain, the ritual that yielded no results. But if feigning cooperation for now meant finding an opportunity to go back home then so be it.

“It’s alright.” You utter, though the sentiment was far from genuine. Yet his face seemed to light up at the words, seemingly oblivious to your lack of sincerity. Accepting it at face value. You reluctantly pick up the fork, his keen gaze fixed upon you as you force yourself to take a bite of the food. “Oh this is delightful.” You lie, a weak attempt to mend the fractured atmosphere. The falsehood tastes as bitter and lifeless as the food in your mouth.

He beams, looking like the incarnate of the sun- seeming to light up the room. “Ah’m glad you think so. Had the chefs making food every day, till’ you woke up. Took yer sweet time though huh? Like our own precious sleeping beauty you were- a bonnie thing.” He winks when he meets your gaze again, and you gulp hard- cheeks hurting from how hard you were trying to keep your smile afloat. And like a ship in a storm, its hull damaged- filling with water, trying to make it to shore. It’s only a matter of time before it sinks.

This time though- you weren’t stupid; you caught the word. The fork mindlessly pushing around food comes to a pause, poking at the bear. “Hey how’d you find me anyway? There was a blizzard.”

“Donnae matter, does it? Yer here now, safe.” He reaches out with another plate of the honeycakes, and you eye the sickly sweet glaze cascading down onto the plate. And vaguely you’re brought back to the present- feeling a bit like a fly caught in a vat of syrup or amber. Stuck.

“I want a real answer.”

“And I gave ye one- now what’s the problem hen? I haven’t mistreated ye have I?” His tone sharpens, and you unwittingly deepen your own predicament. Digging your grave- shoveling out another foot of dirt every time you open your mouth- maybe he’ll do you the courtesy of taking you to where your family was buried when he kills you. Your throat constricts, watching as his grip around the plate tightens.

“That’s not the point. I- I want to go home.”

In a sudden, jerky movement he rises out of his chair, and you hastily follow suit, stumbling over the hem of your dress, eyes wide. Your jewelry clanking loudly as he maneuvers around the table, looking like bull with far too much energy- “Naw, what did I jus’ say?” He snarls, advancing with two strides forwards for every one step back you make. His words tumble out almost incoherently, hands gesturing erratically as he closes in on you, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. Spittle flying and landing on your cheek in his fervor. “This whole place was designed with ye in mind- and ye want to go home? To where huh? Where is yer home- tell me hen.”

Your mouth opens and then closes, words stammering, taking a hesitant step back and he only follows, encroaching in your space. His hands linger near you, but refrains from grabbing you- instead choosing to grip the chair next to him. “I want you tae tell me where’d ye go.” He finally breathes out, chest falling and rising with huff, nostrils flaring as he stares down at you. A long bang resounds through the room as his fist hits the table- and at your startled reaction his lips stretch into a grin at your silence- swallowing thickly as your eyes dart around like a stuck rabbit. “Tha’s right, ye don’ know do yah bonnie? Las’ five years you’ve been following tha’ little list down right to the last T, getting far far awae from that shithole you called home.”

Your pulse seems to falter, arteries constricting, the flow of blood in your veins slowing to a near standstill, as if coagulating with fear, and ultimately slowing to a halt. Every nerve in your body tingles with dread, every sound feeling amplified. The air feels heavy, suffocating, as if pressing down on your chest, making it hard to draw in a full breath. It only made sense that he knew about it, I mean he was the one that gave the list to you- but the implication of how he’s been watching you– you struggle to steady your trembling limbs and calm the racing thoughts in your mind. The unbridled urge to run arises.

“I- I don’t-”

“You don’t- You don’t what? Ye don’ know what ahm talkin’ about hen? Tha’ what yer trying tae tell me?” He mocks, head tilting- taking advantage of the way you stumble for something to say. He leans further into your personal bubble, leering down at you.

“Stay back.” You manage in a shaky gasp stumbling backwards as you hold your hands out in front of you.

“What’s the problem?” His laugh seems to echo around the room, and he follows you, blue eyes wide and unblinking- “It’s fate. This is where ye were meant to be- Here with us-”

“Stay away from me!” There was another word spoken- one foreign to your lips but not to his- and his eyes widened, unable to do anything in time as embers spark in the air. A rush of something equally foreign and unnerving washes over you as it leaves your tongue, like a sudden wave crashing upon a shore. The feeling was indescribable- the sense of connection thrumming through your very being; as if awakening something long dormant in you- untapped potential. Something hot- embers?- begins to manifest, a sense of otherworldly energy fills the air, crackling with a palpable intensity. A surge of heat wells up inside of you, building up to a crescendo as thin sheets of flame bursts out of your fingertips, and he barely has a second to drop before the torrent of searing heat engulfs everything above him. The heat is intense, blistering hot, and the smell of singed air fills your nostrils. Burnt meat and honey was there- charred, smokey, slightly sweet.

You can only stare dumbfounded- looking down at your hands and then at the aftermath, stumbling back. You throw a hand to your mouth, still warm from the unexpected surge of power- stomach rolling with unease. What? How did you- How was this possible– Johnny looks equally surprised- his face flushed, tilting his head back to look at the burnt wood and then back at your stunned form. His eyes fall half-lidded, making a movement to rise, expression twisting into something you can’t quite put your finger on, lips tugging into a grin. You don’t wait to try and decipher what he was thinking, instinctively turning and fleeing- heart pounding in your chest.

Gathering up your dress to the best of your ability- you turn pivot on your heel and sprint away, the clatter of your jewelry like a warning bell with each frantic step. It felt like the jewelry were more cursed collars and shackles the more you think of it, each jangle announcing your presence to anyone who might be listening. You burst out of the dining room, tearing down the hallway from which you came- desperate for escape, gasping for breath as panic tightens its grip around your throat. Sentences come to mind- each one stirring conflicting feelings.

‘The ritual would give you great power.’

‘It would provide you strength.’

‘Protection for yourself.’

You continue to flee as fast as your unsteady legs can carry you, though your pace hardly qualifies as swift, your wobbly strides barely enough to keep you upright. The hallway seems to warp and narrow before your eyes, blurring with each frantic blink. “Bonnie!” His voice echoes out loudly behind you and you only hobble along faster. Like a faun trying to outrun a predator, each step a scramble for safety.

The sound of his pursuit fades gradually until it suddenly ceases, leaving you to wonder as you steal a glance backwards, only to see Johnny faltering in his step- expression looking almost reverent. Dare you say almost excited- dazed, and then your attention snaps back to the present as you collide with something unexpectedly soft- a wall that shouldn’t have been there. And you don’t remember there being anything necessarily obstructing in the hallway.

The impact leaves you stunned- a buzzing in your head becoming known before swiftly dissipating as if it was never there. Your eyes drift up, up, up- and towering above you is the tallest, broadest man you’ve ever encountered. Crossing eyes with death itself- you find yourself entranced. It was fitting, with a skull over his face- skin pale as a ghost- terrifying. They say eyes are the window to the soul. So what kind of soul would it be when the eyes you were staring at were a deep abyss- as tainted as his seemed to be? Dark pools of tiger’s eye, mali garnet, topaz, amber- dravite tourmaline. Clouded and hardened by something you couldn’t quite understand- and you recoil, all but shoving yourself off of the imposing figure. His hands twitch in response, tilting his head down at you.

“I- ‘m sorry.” You almost instinctively skitter back a few feet, jewelry jingling noisily in the tense silence.

“Johnny causin’ you trouble?” Though sounding much more human compared to before, the gruff familiarity of his voice is not lost on you and you’re brought back to a cold mountain- a warm touch, a promise. Your neck burns, eyes squeezing shut before you hesitantly raise them back to the broad expanse of his chest. You force yourself to give some sort of indication that you heard him, trembling before the being in front of you- shaking your head curtly- hands scrunching up your dress in a tight grip.

His dark eyes look down at you, and not even looking up at him, the weight of his stare was heavy.. you’ve never felt so small in your life, unable to muster the courage nor the willpower to look him in the face again. Not wanting to see death personified glaring back at you. It wasn’t too often you’ve pondered your existence in life but in this monster’s presence you’ve found yourself contemplating it more often than not. And with that, it was painstakingly easy to realize how absolutely inferior you were to him.

Throughout your life, you at least knew of your place in the world you lived. A human, where you wish you could’ve had the chance to be born as a half-orc, at least then you’d be strong. Or an aasimar, maybe then you’d be able to live up properly to others expectations and be worthy of something- take up an oath and be a paladin or a cleric, being able to properly protect those closest to you. No.. you know you are. Though making up a large majority of the population, it was easy to forget that sometimes. You.. were you. Plain. Unordinary. You don’t hear of humans winning in wars or becoming rulers. You don’t hear tales of humans doing all this- no. You hear tales of dragons soaring through the skies. Of a whole life surrounded by beings who were just.. Ascended from bloodlines so much more interesting than yours. Hell, this is why you’ve spent years of your life looking for something to give you that power. To make you special. And now that you had it.. It was weird.

So it honestly wasn’t too hard to describe how you thought he was looking at you; how you thought he viewed you. What you imagined his expression to look like, had you actually looked back at him: Like an executioner with one hand on the lever to drop the floor beneath you, to have the rope tighten around your neck. Like a butcher as their cleaver comes swinging down towards a cow’s neck, ready to provide a merciful death or prolonging its misery. A falcon ready to swoop down for its next meal. Or a boot as it comes down on an ant whether or not to squash it out of existence. Like a wolf ready to shut its maws around you and shake until you’ve gone limp in its grasp. Compliant. Lifeless.

But instead your gaze was planted firmly on the pristine marble, bottom lip quivering as you blink slowly, vision blurring and turning the sharp edges fuzzy. Cotton filling your ears, sounds becoming muffled, save for the steady rapidfire pulse resounding through your head. This was the protection that was promised- this was the life that you wanted right? So what was this overwhelming pressure being in his presence? This was who you summoned- you think. Ultimately, it felt like broken promises, shattered ideals- forced to live in what reality you had conjured up for yourself. No- you could tell now that this is what you had called for- what you had asked for was a fiend- no an eldritch being, maybe a God? God might be too pure of a word for him- the devil was more akin to what you’d imagine him being. There was no mistaking it; there was no wolf in sheep’s clothing. No, he knew what he was. He was confident in it even. A predator.

It felt like the space was closing in, the long hallway forcing the pair of you to be in close proximity- a sort of draw, a leash if you would. Taking another step back was a thought, a good one really- except for the fact that the shadows seemed to slink forwards, grasping at the soles of your feet, rising up your calves and grounding you in place, chaining you down. The mere idea of trying to move away from him was a mistake in itself.

There was a momentary lapse in time as this happened, and then immediately your breath catches in your throat as the back of your neck burns as if ignited. Sending jolts of pure energy into your flesh, dark magic swirling around the air that your untrained eyes couldn’t see, but your body could certainly feel the effects of. The power that exudes off his very being. Knees crumpling to the ground beneath you, not given the right to stand, to even be at some sort of the same level as him. Flesh crawling, skin rippling- that morning’s breakfast threatening to come up, tasting the acidic taste on your tongue- bitter and pungent.

Cold sweat drips down your temple as you rasp for air at his feet, falling to all fours as each breath feels like it might be the last. Tremors run down your spine, shaking as you urge your muscles to move to no avail. Society talks of fight or flight, but always seems to forget the most common one: freeze. “Pl— ease.” Trying to get out the words; trying to beg, trying to get him to understand, not even knowing if he’d even care to give what you had to say a moment of his time. Of his consideration. Asking to be let go, to leave- for mercy- it was difficult to place what you had wanted in that moment. You were just a human and he was something beyond your comprehension.

You didn’t realize he had dropped to a crouch, cold fingers brushing over the raised skin with a deep rumble: a hum, it was hard to decipher. You flinch anyway. His nail traces over the freshly acquired wound, drawing a low whimper out of your throat as he just kept petting and prodding- as if wanting the pain to be a reminder.

A pause.

Maybe two.

“Settle, little bird.” Another choked sob rips out of your throat- wet and sticky with phlegm, eyes squeezing shut as his hand- calloused, large- dips down, cupping your jaw and raising you to meet his eyes, though you refuse to open them. He didn’t sound angry, at least not outright. It somehow felt worse to hear a lilt of disappointment brushes along his tone, and it causes more tears to fall. Upon the realization that you weren’t going to open your eyes, his hand moves to your cheeks, squishing them together and making your mouth into a little ‘o’ shape. “Gave you a chance and you’d rather run than stay ‘ere under my protection.” His grip tightens, and this time you don’t dare to open your eyes, afraid to see the beast mere inches from you. His breath fans across your face- surprisingly warm. “Do I have to provide a reminder that you’re mine, hm? Is that it? Have you already forgotten who was providing you a new life?”

“N-No-” His grip tightens further, cutting you off what you had to say. It’s a familiar sensation, one that’s become far too common lately.

“Wasn’t a question.” His low voice rumbles, and you whimper- footsteps approaching that you now recognize as Johnny’s. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, prodding at the space he had created- and you grit your teeth, a defiant response that causes him to click his tongue at your actions. Your neck sparks with more pain before you unhinge your jaw and the sensation fades. He hums thoughtfully. “It’s alright though, you didn’t know any better, Johnny wasn’t treating you right huh?”

“That’s naw true sir- she’s just upset cause she wants tae go home-”

“I wasn’t asking you.” The pad of his thumb rubs along your teeth, and he removes his fingers, grasping your chin and jerking your head upwards. There was a sort of whine behind you, and you gulp hard. “You were just scared weren’t ya? You wanted the devil you summoned to be the first thing you saw when you woke up?” His words, though blunt, strike a nerve that makes you cringe- nose scrunching up as more tears fall. “It’s all right now- pretty little bird is just confused and lost. Isn’t tha’ right?”

His words cause you to peer open your eyes hesitantly, dark pools staring down at you. Your gaze drops to the hand holding your head, which then trails up to a pale arm, decorated with what seemed to be swirling black ink- symbols and hieroglyphs of things you didn’t quite recognize. You sniffle, shrugging unsurely- and he coos, fingers lifting up one of the many necklaces, looking down at one of the shining jewels with a smile on his scarred lips. He lifts the gem so it is within eyesight; green glittering in the light. Emerald.

He lets it fall back against your skin, a deep sigh leaving his lips- “I should’ve been there when you woke up, ‘s all my fault really.” The warm light from the outside seems to grow even warmer, the colors in the hallway shifting to shades of red- darker and darker. “Wouldn't have let you leave that room if i’d known you be such a fussy girl.”

“No- That’s- that’s not–” Your facial expression crumples, hands jutting out in front of you- repeating the same word from before. Only this time.. No embers shootout- nothing. Not even a hint of well, anything happens. Johnny takes a step closer, hovering. Waiting.

The man- the devil- chuckles- a low rumble. “You think i’d let you use my own magic against me? Don’t be daft- did being up in the cold make you lose all sense?” He breathes in deeply, guiding you up to your feet- and your eyes catch to the outside, choking back a sob at the vastly different change of scenery. The sky was a crimson, an artificial moon casting an eerie glow over the ground below. What seemed like flowers had morphed into some sort of city- a labyrinthine structure sprawling beneath from how high up you were. In the distance seemed to be volcanoes- billowing smoke, threatening to erupt, and you feel your legs start to give beneath you- as you let out a garbled gasp, eyes wide. He only steadies you, wrapping an arm around your back and pulling you to his chest. “You just need a reminder that you’re gonna be loved now, isn’t that right? That this is where you’re gonna be from now on. It’s okay, Johnny and I will give you one, yes?” One of his fingers tugs at the corner of your lip, coaxing a smile, “Smile. You’re home now.”

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #call of duty #dnd!141 #patron!ghost #warlock!soap #flesh and bone #dnd!au #ghoap x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader

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heliosdream · 6 months

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Firbolg!Konig????? I was waiting for the orc/ halforc but Firbolg?

YESSS, Im living for it. Could you even imagine Firbolg!Konig with maybe a Fairy!Reader. THE SIZE DIFFERENCE.

I had to relook this up but Firbolg are of giant-kin and tend to stand at 10'6 to like 11'6 feet and fairies are about 2 feet... Yeaaa that one hell of a difference.

König would never let you down from his shoulders, your job would be to sit there and look pretty while he took care of the quests you two would go on.

Would absolutely think its cute when you would flutter around his head, trying to braid his long hair. Every so often pointing at flowers on your guys path for you to use and put in his long hair.

If you end up being a cleric, he would always call you his little Taschenheiler (pockethealer)

Bonus point Warlock!Horangi is always on the edge of death because König would use all your spellslots to heal himself.

(Size Comparison)

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ma1dmer · 1 month

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hello, you can call me billy, i am a massive nerd and i love to write and i love to read!

my first goal is to slowly get myself back into writing. i decided to do that by writing weird and horny stuff so i can get used to writing something anything at this point and hopefully evolve myself in the future, don't think too much about it...my second goal is to write headcanons for those characters that nobody else writes about, you see a book/movie/show/video game etc character, and you think, hey that character has zero fans, wish i had somebody else to share my thirst about this character with, i want that person to be me, i want us to go through it together, as one...

i will write about video games, books, shows, movies, ttrpgs, my own and my friends' original characters and maybe i will also do oc match ups! who knows, i surely don't.

so take a break and come chat me up or check up my things in the .writing tag! (18+/sometimes problematic media/sometimes trigger warnings)

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buckys-little-belle · 1 year

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Oh my gosh I am OBSESSED with your new cg!Garret series! Can you please write a chapter where Joyce brings by cookies or something for a Hellfire meeting, and runs into little bunny, and El doesn’t understand that reader wants their regression to be a secret, and tells Joyce, and little bunny gets super embarrassed but then Joyce comforts them and tells them it’s okay🥺💛

Hellfire Babysitting Club : The Sequel (Part Three)

Pick-Up Problems

Gareth Emerson x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns used) / The Hellfire Club x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns used)

Notes - THIS IDEA HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR FOREVER, please know that this request really brought a spark back when it comes to writting <3. I really hope that you like it Bub!!!

Warnings - Little Bunny is "Outed" as a little by El, obviously that might be very touchy for some, please keep that in mind going forward. Very very brief mentions of not great home life, as well as possible Jim Hopper intervention. (It's very vague, and will not be talked about in detail. Please know that it isn't meant to be purposefully triggering, and is just a background theme) fluff, lotssssss of fluff

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

The first week of school had gone well, Y/n sticking by Gareth's side as the others learned more about them. Everyone realizing how shy, quiet, and weary their Little Bunny was, and how opposite they were from Little Terror.

The second week of school had been a bit all over the place. Everyone immediately signed up to babysit Little Bunny at school, some choices were easy for Gareth to make. Though El was new to everything she would take Y/n for the first period of the day because they shared an english class. Then Dustin would take over for the second period, his Tech Design class right next to Y/n's math class. Gareth selfishly didn't let anyone take anymore shifts off him, keep Little Bunny to himself for both lunch, and the rest of the day.

He kept telling himself he would give more people the opportunity to take care of Y/n, but he wanted to know Y/n better than everyone else. Hence the obnoxious amount of questions Little Bunny was asked at lunch, during Study Hall, and on the way to science.

"What's your favourite type of juice? Colour? Movie? Class subject? Food? Store? Do you have lot's of toys? Does anyone know you're a little? If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?

And even though he did a good job asking fun questions, plus a few insightful ones, he never asked how they would get home after a DnD meeting. The club met after school and Y/N took the bus.

Little Bunny also never asked, which they regretted as they stood outside the school, their sweater pulled close, backpack sagging, wondering how long it would take to walk.

"Hi there." A sweet voice called, Y/n's eyes meeting the voice's owner as they took a step back. "I'm Joyce, Will and El's mom." She explained after noticing Y/n's confusion.

"Mom!" El called out as she ran over to hug her. "You've met our baby." El beamed.

"Your baby?" Joyce's brow furrowed.

"Yes, Y/n sometimes feels like a baby, so we take care of them." El smiled as she walked to Y/n reaching to hold their hand. "I call them Little Cheese Fingers."

"Oh." Joyce's reaction worried Y/n, the look of confusion feeding into their fear of people finding out. Y/n was about to pull their hand out of El's before Joyce spoke again. "Did Eddie start the Babysitting club again?" She asked with a smile.

"No, but Gareth did." Y/n felt a weight rise of their shoulder as El spoke. "I get to watch Y/n during english." The way she spoke so happily about her duty made Y/n smile, the fear of being a burden dispersing.

"Well Y/n." Joyce began. "Are you waiting for a parent to pick you up?" She asked, as if she just knew Y/n was momentarily stranded.

"No." Little Bunny whispered, Y/n's hand slipping from El's as they suddenly felt alone again. "'m on my own." They held back their tears.

"They take the same bus as us." Will suddenly chimed in, Mike and Dustin following after.

"Okay then it's settled." Joyce wrapped an arm around her son. "You can get a ride home with El and Will." She smiled. "Me or their dad will pick you up, okay?" Y/n nodded their head quickly. "And you two." She pointed to her children. "Better make sure Y/n is safe on the bus." She pulled out her stern voice and it made everyone giggle.

"Yes, Mom." Will rolled his eyes. "They take turns sitting beside me and El." He assured her.

"Y/n likes me more, I give them candy." El accidently gave away her secret weapon, Mike scoffing.

"Really?" He looked at El, then Y/n. "All I have to do is give you candy? Then you'll like me?" His tone was goofy, his eyebrows raised.

"I like choc chips more." Y/n smiled shyly, still uneasy around all the new people, but trying hard to embrace the change.

"Cookies I can do." Mike crossed his arms and smiled, a silent promise to arrive the next day and earn Y/n's friendship.

"You know, Max has a really good cookie recipe." Dustin mumbled. "Maybe Lucas will let us crash his date." Before his sentence was even finished him and Mike began running over to where Lucas and Gareth were chatting.

"Is everyone ready to go?" Joyce laughed.

"Wait!" Gareth yelled out of breath. "I didn't get to say goodbye." He raised a fist for both El and Will to bump, but when he got to Y/n they ran into his arms instead. "Goodbye to you too." He laughed, his arms wrapping around his Little Bunny.

"Do you have everything you need for Y/n?" Joyce's stern tone rung out.

"Yes, Mrs H, we still have lots of stuff left over from Little Terror." Gareth looked down to Y/n who's head was still smushed against his shirt. "Actually does your store have sippy cups?"

"Sippy cups?"

"I know it sounds odd, but ever since Little Terror somehow got juice on the ceiling, handing this one a juice box freaks me out."

"The ceiling?" Will cut in.

"Dude Little Terror once got so much ketchup on Eddie's shirt he had to throw it out. And he wore stained shirts more than he wore clean ones." Gareth added, suddenly very thankful for Y/n's calm demeanor.

"Yes, we have sippy cups, and forks with soft ends, as well as baby wipes." Joyce listed out everything she thought might be useful.

"Great, I'll make sure to stop by." He went to take a step back and walk to his own car, but Y/n clung on. "I've got to go Bunny." He chuckled.

"Me too." The managed to say, their words muffled by Gareth's shirt.

"I have candy." El yelled from the car, Y/n's head suddenly lifted. "Told you it works." She said as Will rolled his eyes and Y/n ran towards them.

"They're very sweet." Joyce smiled as she watched her kids help Y/n get comfortable. "You should come over for dinner more often, and bring Y/n. They look like they could use some more company." she said solemnly.

"Yeah about that." Gareth scratched the back of his neck. "Could you ask Jim to swing by my house after his shift?"

"Sure, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just have a few questions, that's all."

#age regression fic #age regression #little!reader #hellfire club x little reader #hellfire club #gareth stranger things #gareth x reader #gareth emerson #little reader #little fic #stranger things fic #stranger things age regression #stranger things #gareth x little!reader #Gareth x little reader

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almost-correct-quotes · 9 months

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language barrier

reverie audios, cyril x listener, set in the (hopefully near) future once they get their shit together, short, almost entirely dialogue no warnings i think besides cyril's father being a canon-typical prick (offscreen), altair friendly AN: i'm sooo normal about fantasy languages. also i don't even know if elvish is a language in reverie audios but whatever!!! words shamelessly lifted from dnd

“Akhiilor?” they asked, the word strange on their tongue.

“It’s Elvish,” Cyril replied vaguely, looking a bit cornered.

“I guessed as much,” they responded with a grin. “What does it mean?”

“Literally translated,” he sighed, “It’s. Hm. Duty, I think. Place or person of duty. That which you’re devoted to. Something like that.”

They stared at him. “And you- you called me that, in front of your father.”

“Yes.”

“Well, that explains why he got so cross afterwards.”

“As if he’s not always like that.”

“I take it elves don’t commonly call humans they’re courting-"

“Don’t say ‘courting’, it makes me sound like a character out of a fantasy romance,” Cyril groaned.

“-call them their akhiilor?” they said, nearly giddy.

“It- well, it’s more often to refer to something than someone, like an ideal. When it is used to refer to a person, it’s very… affectionate. And devoted. Obviously.”

“...Did you just pick the endearment you thought would piss off your father the most?”

Cyril laughed, “No, I would’ve called you ai-aegis if I did. I picked the second worst one, I’ll have you know.” “What’s that one mean, ai-aegis?” they asked, genuinely curious.

“When referring to a person, it means ‘my shield’. It’s, uh, a bit charged, when referring to a partner,” Cyril had the unearned decency to look a bit embarrassed at that.

“Charged?”

“Well, it implies you’re the one protecting me, that I let that happen. I don’t think my father would take kindly to his son saying his human partner is the one with the reins using an Elvish endearment.”

They laughed, “No, I don’t think so.”

#fanfic #reverie audios fanfic #reverie audios #reverieaudios #reverie audios cyril #cyril lauriet

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orion-lake · 1 year

Photo

Happy New Year! I wanted to shout out “some” posts of 2022 that I really loved. I want to say thank you to all fellow gif makers to put in the time and effort to share their creations.

Please do not feel bad if you’re not on the list. I have a running queue on my blog, so my post number per month is fairly huge. So I may just have missed your post.

Feel free to share, and please, if you like a post, please reblog and share the love.

January 2022

Morgana Pendragon ▶ Season 3, Episode 02: “The Tears of Uther Pendragon: Part Two” - @katieskeep

YENNEFER APPRECIATION WEEK | favorite outfit - @yenvengerberg

— New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift - @antoniosvivaldi

WOLF MOON | S1E1 - @teenwolfgifs

February 2022

‘cause we never go out of style… - @jumpthensfall

HAPPY 32ND BIRTHDAY TAYLOR ALISON SWIFT - @newrcmantlcs

March 2022

the wheel of time gifset - @scinnlaece

allison argent gifset - @bericas

bau ladies + tarot cards - @cabotism (deactivated)

HARRY POTTER film series based on the novels by the same name (2001-2011) - @yourstarfuckerworld (deactivated)

stiles stilinski & lydia martin TEEN WOLF (2011-2017) - @crazysjane (deactivated)

MISTY & NATALIE in Yellowjackets | Season One [insp] - @queencalanthes

April 2022

Charmed | Patty & Prue & Piper | Head Above Water - @littletonpace

NETFLIX ORIGINAL SERIES: The Marauders - @some-people-call-it-tragic

Man the boundaries. Protect us. Do your duty to our school. - @hermoiine

THE DORA MILAJE aka “THE ADORED ONES” - @rachelschu (deactivated)

May 2022

ALL MY GIRLS LIKE TO FIGHT. - @bericas

↳ ingrid, the snow queen - @thewildmother

hogwarts houses common rooms aes - @ostara-goddess

harry potter meme: [1/3] colours. teal - @19-17

laura’s 10k celebration (top 30 ships as voted by my followers) ✵ 21 ➳ buffy summers & spike - @katherineebishop

HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE (2009) dir. David Yates - @mike-mills

June 2022

i got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined - @learned-civility

the big seven + planets symbolism (insp.) - @hermiione

July 2022

doctor who appreciation week day three ☆ favorite season/era - @benoitblanc

Taylor Swift in 2021 - @wishfulthinkinglove

AU SPUFFY - they can be a romcom if they want - - @l0veisntbrains

taylor swift gifset - @treachreous

August 2022

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) - @drsattlers

↳ SCOOBY-DOO (2002) dir. Raja Gosnell - @wakandasforever

— Taylor Swift on 💜 Last Kiss 💜 - @antoniosvivaldi

September 2022

#MetalMonday | ✟ Rest in Peace ✟ (Dorothy) - @x--daughters-of-darkness--x

October 2022

TEEN WOLF APPRECIATION WEEK ☽ day one: female character(s) - @unspokenstydia

MERLINWEEK2022 | DAY 02 Favourite scene or season : season 04 (insp) - @thebookluvrr1816

#the journey - @payidaresque

MERLIN WEEK 2022 day 1: favourite character ➛ arthur pendragon + dnd character sheet (in/sp.) - @arthurpendragonns

DAILYMARVELSTUDIOS 5K CELEBRATION: FAVORITE MARVEL DYNAMIC - @dailymarvelstudios

November 2022

Bridgerton Siblings + Love Interest - @marlenadia

laura’s 11k celebration (top 40 characters as voted by my followers) ✵ 40 ➳ emma swan - @katherineebishop

Grace & Frankie + final scenes - @jakeperalta

Vampire Appreciation Week [2022] October 27th ~ Favourite Vampire/Vampire Dynamic - @sulietsexual

Bridgerton Couples + Tropes - @marlenadia

VAMPIRE APPRECIATION WEEK 2022 - day one: favorite vampire CAROLINE FORBES - The Vampire Diaries (2009-2017) - @naiey

December 2022

EDWINA & KATE SHARMA — The Sun & The Moon - @gifshistorical

WEDNESDAY CHARACTERS as TAYLOR SWIFT ALBUMS - @reputayswift

favorite non-romantic dynamic MISS EDWINA AND QUEEN CHARLOTTE - @edwinadaily

WEDNESDAY (2022) + RAINBOW - @usergif

marvel characters - @annelisters

WELL! THE PLAN HAS SOME FLAWS, ADMITTEDLY. - @phoebehalliwell

Favorite Romantic Pairing — Colin and Penelope Bridgerton - @wandarogers

WEDNESDAY: SEASON 1 (2022) - @vanessacarlysle

#posts of 2022!

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xxcrescent-miragexx · 9 months

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(there used to be an artwork of myself here as part of this introductory post but it is old so I am working on a new one currently)

Introductory post with tags on it so you don't scroll forever to find something by me

#my art - my artwork including sketches and complete pieces

#my reblogs - self-explanatory

#hadalzone - anything else

You'll mostly find artwork about original creations of mine or fanart of my interests on my blog

You can use my art for messaging app icons if you want (WITH CREDIT). Please do not repost my art

Here are my absolutely countless amounts of interests that you will see scattered all throughout my blog. Disney ducks, some gacha games, and Digimon will probably be the most common thing you can expect to see

The interests:

Scrooge McDuck/DuckTales/Disney ducks in general they're all so silly I love them

Disney

Final Fantasy

Kingdom Hearts

PreCure

Digimon

Pokemon

Yu-Gi-Oh

Atelier series/Gust games

Free!

Future Card Buddyfight

Class of Heroes

Etrian Odyssey

Rhythm games

Disgaea/most NIS games

ToonTown

Fashion dolls (mainly Monster High and Shadow High)

Guilty Gear

Tekken

Animal Crossing

FNaF

Dialtown

Mega Man

Animal Crossing

JewelPet

Puyo Puyo

Buddy Thunderstruck

Strawberry Prince/SutoPuri

Mafumafu

Selphie_0716

Youichan

96neko

Uratanuki

Araki

Wolpis Carter

R+...

Sumia

KANKAN_Sava/evie., Dongdang, Chogakusei (favorite singers)

Miyashita Yuu

Durarara

Baldur's Gate 3/DnD in general

Warframe

Arknights

Reverse: 1999

Ramen Wolf & Curry Tiger

Land of the Lustrous

Monotone Blue

Honkai: Star Rail

Zenless Zone Zero

Yowamushi Pedal

Mary Skelter

Call of Duty

Houseki no Kuni

Undertale

Silent Hill

Resident Evil

Dead by Daylight

Friday the 13th

Child's Play

Star Fox

Ratchet and Clank

Transformers Prime

Transformers Robots in Disguise (2015)

Transformers Rescue Bots

Almost everything Suzuhito Yasuda and Takehito Harada has illustrated for

List of characters I LOVE and maybe kin some of them:

Scrooge McDuck

Fethry Duck dt17

Ludwig Von Drake

Aak Arknights

X Reverse 1999

Harry Mason SH1

Regulus Reverse 1999 (kin)

Amane/Shirahime/Kou Arcaea

Amane Arcaea (kin)

Nio Atelier

Rika Pokemon SV

Killia Disgaea

MachGaogamon Digimon

Cure Chocolat

Copen Gunvolt

Xion/Naminé Kingdom Hearts

Stelle/Caelus/Kafka Star Rail

Billy Kid ZZZ

Mizuki Akiyama ProSekai (kin)

Miko TFP (kin)

Starscream/Bumblebee TFP

Midosuji Akira Yowamushi Pedal

Izaya and Mikado Durarara

Barret Wallace FF7

Tatsuya Suou Persona

Ally Puyo Puyo (kin)

Lily WACCA (kin)

A.B.A Guilty Gear (kin)

Thank you for checking out my account <3

#my art #my reblogs #hadalzone

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ode2shay · 1 month

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Cod x Dnd Price

I personally think Price is a Half-orc battle master fighter, synergistically it's a killer combo within Dnd, but I love a good Orc. Dnd has tried to fix their past transgression on how they’ve made orcs almost predisposed to aggression and violence, but truly they need to do more (I blame Tolkien and racism). In my own personal games of Dnd Orcs and Half-orcs are much gentler creatures, their harder nature coming from a more nomadic culture within tougher environments. Orc posting aside, Price as a Half-orc allows for exploration of his character to subvert expectation. Price is not a good man, but he can be a good person. Half-orcs have an innate advantage on intimidation being within a militia or crown’s guard, this would be very handy, but intimidation tactics could very easily lead to a reputation. Price is a top soldier within CoD, his work is good and his reputation precedes him, and most of all, Price will do what he thinks is best to get the job done. Most fantasy settings are not going to have a military system as complex as any modern military, but I imagine they are big enough for men to know of their superiors' work and reputations without knowing them personally. This very easily leads itself to Price being known as this big scary man within the military, a boogeyman if you will. Any of the men that actually serve under him know what he is actually like, a big softie that treats his men like family. I imagine Price prefers being on the road even if he is just by himself, it reminds him of traveling with his own family. During more peaceful times there's less of a need for soldiers to travel and be away from the capital unless diplomatic visits are occurring but investigating reports that could threaten that peace is still very necessary and it's a role Price is more than willing to fill with or without a squad of men by his side. It’s how he finds himself in their largest city on the border when the attacks begin, pressed back to back with a paladin from an order he half remembers working with, defending and protecting civilians. He’ll complain later about being too old for this. ( I love a chance to talk about orcs :)) and I think tusks would look good with his beard)

#john price #call of duty x dnd #captain price #call of duty #CallofDuty #dnd5e #price cod #mw2 #cod mw2 #ramblings #orc posting #i love orcs #reposting from side blog #rebranding lol

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friendlyneighborhoodborg · 2 years

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Julerose AUs

No matter where, in any universe, I'm yours.

These two background gays and their wholesome vibes are almost single-handedly keeping me in the miraculous fandom, I swear to god. You could put these two in anything that isn't Miraculous and it would be all the better for it.

Such is the nature of many conversations I've had with @le-chiggin-nuggie over the years, coming up with AUs that these two could (and rightfully should) be the stars of. I'm posting some of our favorites up here in the hopes it will intrigue and inspire- we've had a lot of fun coming up with them, and writing little bits for them, and I want to share that with you guys here.

Description of each AU under the cut:

Starting on top left and going clockwise...

Carnaval Clandestin. This is an idea of mine that I'm currently writing a full story for. I've seen a few of circus-ey type AUs, and I am absolutely trash for spooky carnival stuff, so I decided I'd throw my hat in the ring. These performers may lean heavily into shock value and creepy stuff, but it's all in good fun. They don't mean any harm, really. Juleka in this AU is the mysterious head clown, nicknamed "Reflekta." She has shapeshifting abilities and can look like anyone else, and takes no small amount of pleasure in using her abilities to scare the living hell out of patrons. Rose, or "Princess Rose," as she likes to be called, is a budding alchemist who sells novelty and remedial potions out of her snake-oil caravan.

Pirate and Fairy. This is what you get from trying to overanalyze Peter Pan, a stupid book which has no cohesion and makes even less sense than Wonderland. Pirates and fairies are a fantastic combo, however, and since Juleka's mom is literally a pirate and Rose acts like she was pulled out of Cinderella, that's what this picture is. I just drew a simple, generic action scene, no actual story behind it. This just seems like the logical conclusion for a high fantasy or DnD AU, but anyone can do what they want with this. Nugg's also suggested Rose as a mermaid, I know Princess!Rose is popular, and all of them work just as well.

Teen Titans Crossover. This is a favorite of Nugg's, putting Rose in the shoes of Starfire and Juleka in the cloak of Raven. Pretty self-explanatory here. Others may have their rosters, our reasoning is such: Kim is Beast Boy and Max is Cyborg, and sometimes they're paired off as well. Nathaniel takes Robin's role, Alix is X, Chloe's Terra and she LIVES, Marinette and Adrien are Jinx and Kid Flash, and everybody else is everybody else.

Death and the Vampyre. This one came about after listening to too much Steam Powered Giraffe. "Delilah Morreo's" throwaway line about the eponymous vampire queen being friends with Death, coupled with familiarity with Discworld's interpretation of Death, led to this idea. Perhaps Juleka is a vampire who's been stuck in her castle for hundreds of years, explaining her dated clothing. Perhaps Rose is the chipper "new" Death, who does the duty with pep and respect. They meet. Sitcom antics.

Angel. Nugg's idea, and a very interesting one. It's forbidden for celestial beings to fraternize with mortals... but that's not stopping Rose from playing favorites. A bit of good luck to brighten Juleka's gloomy day, perhaps, or some divine inspiration on her music. If she were only able to be seen by her... That's the setup, the rest is up to the prospective storyteller.

Different Heroes. Nugg's currently in the process of writing a story involving a full new set of Kwamis. Rose, or "Princess Oz," holds the Lion here whilst Juleka, "Corbeau," holds the Raven. Given how that last season ended, the side characters may need new kwamis anyway. And making Rose's new miraculous a crown and Juleka's a capelet? *chef's kiss* Immaculate.

Wonderful. Here's one we don't see around too often in any fandom- a crossover with Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Gotta love those classic madness vibes, and it's so old that which Wonderland you use is like a sliding scale from Disney Animation to American McGee. That, and I've been on a total Alice kick ever since I found the Royal Ballet production online, which everyone should watch at the earliest convenience.

Well, that's seven AU ideas to inspire art from everyone! Many thanks to @le-chiggin-nuggie for their contributions and for being an incredible fount of creative ideas. All these ideas are free to use or change however you want. And Happy Pride, everyone.

(Image Id: A circle of seven drawings depicting Juleka and Rose in each of the described AUs, surrounding a bubble which reads "In any universe, I am yours.")

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fanart #julerose #juleka couffaine #rose lavillant #juleka x rose #fanfic prompts #ml #ml fanfic #ml fanart #ml au #miraculous au

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 1 year

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Warnings are before you can read the fanfic and smut will have * in the link. I usually write for f!reader

Requesting for MW2 fanfics/HCs

Series

The Roommate Series Masterlist (18+)* Ghost x f!reader (Complete)

Quiet Series (18+) Ghost x f!reader

Your Friendly Neighbor Masterlist (18+) Soap x f!reader

Duty Over Heart (18+)* Price x f!reader

Childhood best friend!soap (18+)* Soap x f!reader

AUs

Witch/Demon AU

Eldritch Horror!reader

Knight/Princess (price x f!reader)

Android!reader

Dnd!141

Gaz’s backstory

Wintersoldier!reader

Ghost

Human Again

Seen

Protector

Protector pt. 2*

Ghost with a curly haired s/o

Thoughts of You*

Price

Love from a Distance

Love From a Distance (part 2)

Dies With You

The Newest Member

Two For Luck

Never Cry Alone Again

It's Still Raining

Soap

Say Burglary

Always You

Gaz

Love Letters

Headcanon Masterlist

Page 1

Page 2

I don’t own these characters, Call of duty, or any of the Modern Warfare titles. You do not have permission to sell any of these works. (2/27/2024)

#john price x reader #price x reader #captain price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #cod gaz #cod soap #cod ghost x reader #cod ghost imagine #cod price #cod ghost #cod mw2

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get-shiggy-with-it · 2 years

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A HAND THAT WILL NOT HARM YOU - TWICE X HERO!READER

✧ pairing: Jin Bubaigawara (Twice) x hero!reader

✧ word count: 5.3k | AO3 Mirror

✧ warnings: angst, like discussions of suicide but not in a specific or detailed way, smut, light smut, afab reader no pronouns, semi-public sex technically, sex outdoors, smoking cigarettes, mentions of blood, canon typical violence

✧ summary: After an encounter with a hero who has no qualms accepting death in the line of duty, Jin comes face to face with the reason for his existence, and the futility behind this constant battle with good he fights, while sharing smoke with his new friend on a rooftop as you partake in one of the few reasons to remain horribly alive.

✧ a/n: For my 1k Don’t Go Breaking My Heart Collab ! Thanks so much to everyone else who participated, I’m working on the masterlist! Also mine is very late to my own collab but eh. It’s been awhile since I wrote anything so hope it turned out! Be warned it is angst and reader is kinda losin the will to live literally in the beginning, but it’s also not ~heavy~ I don’t think. Has more dnd tired warrior vibes than anything else. Still head the warning!

Jin wasn’t sure why exactly he did it.

Or, more appropriately, why he didn’t do it.

Spinner and Dabi were shouting behind him, the sound of their boots pounding against the concrete floor of the parking garage reverberated around in his skull. The jarring clack of panicked footsteps drowning out every other voice except for go, run—

“Get on the ground!”

The hero’s voice rang deep in his chest and stung like a shot as they called after him. Spinner swore somewhere to his left, the metallic rattling of knife blades the only warning Jin got before a pained shriek echoed through the maze of cement pillars.

“Stop where you are!”

He felt the blistering heat of Dabi’s flames burst to life over his shoulder as another unfamiliar voice joined the din. Jin’s eyes watered as the thick, cloying smell of charred flesh stuck to the fabric of his mask and choked any attempt at measured breathing. As the air grew unbearably hotter, every shout began to muddle together—forming a single, discordant cacophony.

Jin’s legs shook as he broke into a sprint, sweat running in waves down his back and stinging his eyes. His vision began to tunnel, growing murky black around the edges, leaving nothing but the slow incline of each new floor. The mass of grating sound mingled with the blood pounding in his ears. He stumbled as the rapidly depleting oxygen—eaten away by Dabi’s attempts to clear a route out—destroyed the last remnant of any coherent thoughts.

He knew nothing more than escape—the slowest of suffocations.

His partners ran across his field of view and Jin was only vaguely aware of the slash adorning Spinner’s back, quickly leaking dark red and the smoke that poured from each of the staples in Dabi’s cheeks.

Jin couldn’t be certain when they’d reached the roof, but the new, uninhibited gust of city wind alleviated some of the shock from his system.

Just enough that his burning eyes could register another figure amongst the fray.

You lept into view, standing firmly on the roof’s ledge and blocking his only means of exit. Behind you were lower buildings, a jump to which meant safety.

Meant success.

Meant freedom.

“Twice,” Spinner shouted, still fighting off one of the remaining pursers. “Get us the fuck out of here!”

He could.

It would be easy for Jin to take care of you. Just a few doubles and a shove and they’d be on their way back to the bar.

“Fucking do it, man!” Dabi called to his left as your eyes locked on him.

Your footing wasn’t solid. Jin honed in easily on the stiffness in your knees from one too many injuries. The set of your shoulders was stooped too low, your balance shifted forward to make up for the wind.

A single shove and you’d be spiraling down to your death six stories below.

It would be easy.

“Twice, let's go!” Spinner commanded from his right, sword currently impaled in the chest of your cohort.

And he would have done it—really truly sent you to die without a second thought, had every intention of doing it. The clones sprang quickly to life, drawing your focus away just long enough for Jin to rush forward and place his hands hard on your shoulder’s, ready to shove with the force of the wind—

But then he happened to glance at your face, and the world seemed to pause around him for just a single moment.

The blood quickly pooling at Spinner’s feet came to a halt and the explosion of gas-stove blue fire at Dabi’s fingertips ceased to flicker as Twice met your eye and made three crucial observations.

The fabric under his hands was flimsy, thin spandex and cotton that offered no protection or leg up in a fight and quite nearly ripped as he gripped at your throat to throw you off kilter.

His eyes traveled up from your chest and found your face once again, registering as he did then that it was bare. No mask to disguise your identity or protect the vital points at your temples or neck. You bore the marks of it as well, the evidence of past battles written on all the bare skin you’d left undefended.

But what truly caused him to falter—what made him pull you in and bury his knee into your ribs instead of casting you down to the pavement below—was the look you gave him.

Your hands that had balled into fists, ready to knock his jaw from its socket, relaxed into open palms, and the snarl that sat in your teeth turned up at the edges.

The strange, phantom smile was soft on you despite the surrounding gore. Soft and barely there, like snow on warm asphalt. Jin would have missed it if it hadn’t been for your eyelids drifting shut and your hands coming to rest on his forearms, pulling him in too. Making certain his grip stayed strong, ensuring you’d not walk away from this particular fight.

But Jin didn’t miss it.

He saw the horrific relief in the crinkles at the corners of your eyes and how smooth your palms were as they held him to you at that single point of deadly contact. How they squeezed gently at the skin, the way Magne often did as she directed him through a crowd—like a friend, with no ill intent, guiding him where he was meant to be.

He saw the many openings you had at your disposal to kill him too, the strength evident in your hold.

And he saw how you took none of them.

It was some combination of all of these things that sucked every ounce of strength from his arms where they held you. As he stared through his mask at your face—relaxed as though in sleep, holding him softly as though you knew him, trusted him—Jin was struck with the realization that he simply couldn’t do it.

Couldn’t land the blow.

Couldn’t send you over the edge.

Couldn’t kill you.

So he didn’t.

Instead of following the shouts of his comrades, Jin kicked up into your chest so hard he could nearly see the wind being knocked straight out of your lungs. Your eyes shot open only for a moment—that awful look of peace distorted in shock. Heavy you fell, slumped into his chest before he had the time to scramble back as his clone rushed forward to land a second blow.

Gasping to the ground, you heaved at the second kick to your head, eyes rolling back and body going still.

But still breathing, he noted in the midst of it all. Cracked ribs still working under the strain of each breath.

His doubles were shouting around him. Spinner was wounded and stumbling away from another hero, now crumpled as well in their own bloody mess. The two identical figures helped to drag his friend to the edge and carry him safely down to the second, lower roof. Jin scrambled away too, only moving forward as Dabi shoved him over the side and brought up the rear.

Your wheezing breaths—the sight of you smiling, holding him, waiting for the final push, shove, then nothing—followed him across each new rooftop and did not fade until he was safely tucked away in the bar Shigaraki had offered them shelter in.

Shigaraki who snapped at him when Dabi snitched on his decision to spare you. Shigaraki who let him keep his bed anyway, who didn’t complain about the blood he’d tracked inside. Shigaraki who still didn’t understand. Still told him not to show any mercy again.

Shigaraki, who hadn’t seen you in that moment. Hadn’t experienced the odd, time stopping silence and felt the weight of your confounding, half smile, the soft weight of your hands.

Jin was certain in the small span of time it took to sulk off to his room that had his boss been there, he’d have done the same.

But the minute his head came to rest on the familiar, bare mattress, he couldn’t help but think that really—had it been Shigaraki in his shoes—had it been Dabi or Spinner or anyone else on his small list of allies—there would be nothing left in that cage of concrete but a small pile of dust and not a single look back.

When he closed his eyes, it was your face he saw again. Staring at him, surprise and fear and betrayal written in the crease of your brow and the turn of your lips as he left you on the ground.

Still breathing.

---

“You’re thinking about it again?”

“No I’m not—yes I am!”

Dabi turned in his seat to give Jin the full experience of his incredulous look, whiskey spilling over the rim of his glass as he waved it.

“Wow, very subtle,” Dabi spoke with a slow drawl which Jin chose to attribute solely to the drink and not to his friend’s general affinity for sarcastic teasing. “You’re really improving.”

He didn’t bother clapping back, he’d only end up proving the point further. So Jin went back to sulking, digging around in his pocket for a smoke, pulling a cigarette from the box with his teeth. Dabi sat, still watching from the corner of his eye, reaching over a hand with two fingers glowing blue at the tips before Jin had a chance to fumble around for a lighter.

He was kind enough to let Jin have the first, calming drag, before snatching the cig for his own. Dabi’s thumb absently brushed against his lips as he pulled back to take the stolen hit of nicotine. Jin couldn’t help but notice how smooth the pads of his fingers were.

Smooth, soft hands. No gloves, bare on his arms, pulling him in—

“I could have.”

Dabi exhaled before speaking, little rings of smoke drifting from his parted lips through the hazy bar lighting. “Could’ve what?”

It wasn’t really a question even though he said it like one. Dabi knew. He was there. He was the one who dragged Jin from the scene of his crime—the evidence left hacking in the dust hundreds of roofs away.

“I could have done it.”

Dabi didn’t believe him, even though it was the only small truth Jin had dared to offer about that night. He was right.

He could have, he just—

“So why didn’t you?”

Jin thought for a moment.

Because your hands were soft, maybe.

Because even through the fabric of his suit, Jin could feel it. Not soft in an easy way either, but soft in the way that a callous gets over time the more you work at it. Like you’d spent years grinding them down until they were smooth and worn as a river stone.

Or maybe because you held him, no matter how split second short it was and he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him kindly.

It might have been any number of reasons, any multitude of maybe’s.

So yes, he could have killed you, but no he didn’t.

And that’s why every penny offered for his thoughts these past few weeks had been wasted. It had been you since the moment you smiled in the face of your doom.

“I don’t know,” he said, after a long pause.

Because it was the truth, no matter what Dabi chose to believe.

A scarred hand placed the cigarette back between Jin’s lips, before it trailed down along the stubble of his exposed jaw and settled for cupping his cheek.

Two fingers inched their way under the fabric of his mask, shoved half up and pinched at the sensitive skin there.

“You’re too good for this world, man,” Dabi murmured before pulling away and sauntering off up the stairs.

Jin could tell by the chill in his stare, that he hadn’t meant it as a compliment.

---

In all his, admittedly short, time alive, Jin had found very few things that truly rendered him speechless. In fact, it was quite a feat for anything to astound him so thoroughly that no stream of thought was bursting forth to spill from between his teeth.

Seeing you—alive of course and leaning casually against the front wall of a convenience store with neon lighting casting shadows on your face—did the job.

The plastic bag of stolen goods tumbled to the sidewalk as the sliding glass doors closed behind him. Jin watched your head snap to the side as cans and bottles rattled against the pavement and he stood, dumbstruck and frozen to the spot.

He ought to run, he thought—give himself a head start in the chase that was sure to come.

But he didn’t.

You seemed to have that effect on him.

Though you stayed rooted to your spot as well, foot kicked back against the siding. Your eyes were clearer now, without the haze of adrenaline and ash. They traveled up from his boots, taking in the casual clothes until they met his face, mask still obscuring any defining features.

He saw the slight widening in your gaze, the moment of recognition, and tensed himself for battle.

But it did not come.

Instead, you nodded to him almost politely, turning your face away from the harsh, blue and pink lights as if to say:

Go on.

I didn’t see anything.

But Jin did not go on, against whatever better judgment he still possessed. No, he stayed where he was, surrounded by cheap, shoplifted food in crinkled plastic packaging, staring into the face of a phantom. Because you definitely saw him and he couldn’t have stopped looking at you if he tried.

For all his shock, you seemed generally unaffected. Even peered at him expectantly from the coroner of your eye, waiting for him to scurry like a rat into the night.

Though, as with all decisions, Jin made the worst possible of all and did exactly the opposite of that.

The wall was cool against his back as he leaned against it. Mirroring your stance with a foot kicked back and his bag of contraband settled on the ground by his feet. Jin’s hand habitually reached for the small box in his pocket, flicking out a cigarette and biting the filter.

“You mind?” he asked as he clicked the lighter to life, lifting his mask and taking a drag before you’d actually had time to respond.

The answer was no anyway, judging by the quiet laugh and somewhat exasperated shake of your head.

You stood with your chin tilted up towards the streetlights, nothing but the sliding door separating your shoulder from his. It was strange how the distance seemed so small and so gaping at once.

“How’ve you been?”

Jin wasn’t sure why exactly he chose that question other than it seemed to be the thing to ask when there wasn’t anything else to say.

That and he wanted to hear the answer.

There was a pause and a sigh and then:

“Tired,” you said the way Jin imagined any salary worker might—all wry smile and eyes cast to the ceiling. “You?”

“Better” he responded in kind. “Terrible.”

The comforting burn of smoke filled his lungs and he held in the drag as long as he could before blowing out a cloud of breath into the glowing, neon air.

You nodded again, like you understood, and he supposed you might. It seems like if anyone would understand the particularly crushing weight of circumstances you never asked for and a life you couldn’t escape, it would be you. A hero, standing in the harsh blue light of the city at night, keeping a criminal company while he steals and tries to smoke out the pain from his bones like bees from their hive—both of you knowing the ache will always return home.

From the corner of his eye, Jin watched you crouch on your heels. The next time he reached up to place the cigarette between his lips, he found your nose only inches from his own.

From this close he could see the texture of your skin, the ridges and dips of life in your cheeks. He felt his own grow warm under the harsh, unforgiving light as you leaned in and snatched the smoldering cig from his hand before placing it between your teeth.

Jin stared with wide eyes through the mesh of his mask, as you leaned in close enough for him to feel the heat emanating from your breath—still breathing. Because of him. Because he couldn’t do it.

He jolted as something heavy and cold was placed in his palm. The metal fit in his grasp and for a moment it seemed as though you’d placed a gun into his hand, soft fingers wrapping over his to tighten his hold on the grip before pulling away.

“I can’t,” Jin tried to whisper to you, pushing the weapon back towards your chest but you were already turning on your heel.

He stood frozen to the spot, cold in the darkness of winter and with none of the heat that followed your stare. In silence he watched as you sauntered off down the sidewalk, disappearing into the maze of buildings.

When he finally glanced down, in his palm sat one of the stolen cans of coffee.

His back hit the brick wall of the convenience store, brows knit together and feeling as though he ought to light up another cigarette. Instead, he cracked open the can and gulped the contents, the cool, acidic burn of it settled on his tongue.

Jin guessed that neither of you would get much sleep tonight.

---

The next time he saw you felt like years later.

Or maybe it was more appropriate to say it looked as though years had passed. Nothing had truly changed and it had only been a month at most since that short evening outside the convenience store.

But you seemed to have aged so much in such a short time. Eyes indescribably tired in a way that made Jin’s chest tight.

His breath caught as he tried to convince himself it was just the dim, flickering street light and alley haze that made you appear so insubstantial. That it was simply the eerie, ghost like manner that your figure had emerged from the low hanging steam that made him feel so unsettled.

Not that same, uncomfortably familiar smile. Not the way you turned to let him go, despite the blood on his hands.

“Wait!” he called, unsure when the word had formed and why he’d said anything at all.

He ought to be relieved it was you running into him after a mission gone wrong, any other hero and Jin would be in deep shit.

And then you did wait. You paused halfway through a step towards the brighter lights of the street, illuminated by the headlights of cars—the people inside a star's length away, lightyears between their world and the microcosm contained in the alley, Jin and you the only inhabitants.

“Hey there,” you said, like an old friend. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” he responded lamely, the hand he hadn’t noticed reaching out to you across the miles of sidewalk hovering awkwardly in the air.

He watched your brows knit together for just a moment, feet hesitating as though you may leave it at that. But that moment passed quickly, like a breath, like a scream. And Jin found he didn’t flinch when you took a step towards him, warm hand grasping his wrist.

“Let’s take a walk.”

You tugged lightly on his arm and Jin nearly toppled forward with a nod, trailing along behind you as you led him through a maze of side streets, away from the bustling traffic and his crime scene.

Your boots clacked against the cement stairs of the parking structure as you climbed them with Jin at your heels. He watched as you disappeared around a corner and when he clambered up onto the roof, you were stood leaning against the concrete ledge, eyes fixed on the street below.

Jin blinked like his eyes burned. When he breathed in, he tasted ash.

When he came to stand beside you there was an unlit cigarette perched between your fingers, filter first as an offering. Jin caught a sliver of your glance as he muttered a quiet ‘thank you,’ and took the little gift.

His lungs welcomed the familiar, sweet burn.

“I didn’t think you smoked,” he offered, not sure what else to say to break the quiet.

You chuckled beside him. “I don’t—it’s not fast enough.”

“Fast enough?”

The only answer you gave was a long stare and a wry smile.

Jin changed the subject.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been following me,” he brushed his shoulder against yours in what he hoped was a playful gesture. “What a stalker!”

It seemed to have the desired effect, you laughed beside him, light and airy.

“I think that's just the nature of the city. It’s impossible to be alone here even if you want to be,” you said and Jin nodded like he understood.

“Do you want to be?”

You turned to face him fully as he took another drag choking on the smoke when you spoke again.

“Why didn’t you kill me?”

Jin stared at that face, so tired. Better. Terrible.

“I don’t—Why didn’t you kill me?”

When you smiled this time, it was all teeth and bone.

“I think that’s a bit of a longer story.”

“I don’t have anything better to do,” he said, far too quickly, but Jin was an old hat when it came to embarrassment and his cheeks only tingled when you smiled at his eager response.

“No, I suppose you don’t,” you muttered, sinking to the ground with your back to the roof and staring up at the light polluted sky.

Jin shuffled down to your level.

“Do you know why people become heroes?” you asked softly, after a moment. Beside you, Jin shook his head, enamored by the timbre your voice had taken on—so much fuller than before. “Because they like to be right—like the success and the praise from always being justified. The desire in and of itself is perfectly human, but once you become a hero, everything you do is the right thing even if it’s wrong.”

“Are you always right?” Jin asked, not unkindly, but because he wanted to know.

You chuckled beside him.

“Whether I’m actually right is pretty inconsequential,” you move closer, hips shifting against the cement to press against his side in the chill. “Nothing will ever change—it’ll be me against you for eternity.”

“You’re doing a pretty piss poor job of it now,” he flinched as the words spilled out unbidden, but it only earned him a friendly elbow to the side.

His face felt warm under the mask when you laughed in your chest and let more of your weight rest on him. Your fingers brushed against his.

“We all are, really,” you sighed. “It’s our job to negate ourselves, and when have you ever known a person willing to fight for the loss of their own purpose?”

Jin didn’t know what to say to that, and so he didn’t say anything at all. Just slowly nudged his fingers against your palm until you let the warmth of it rest against his hand.

“So, to answer your question,” you murmured, tilting your head against the concrete wall and turning to stare at him. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah.”

Jin’s fingers twitched in under your hand and you shifted to twin yours in the gaps in his grip, squeezing in the ensuing silence.

“I owe you an apology, I think,” you whispered beside him, eyes trained back on the sky.

“Man, you really are a bad hero,” Jin quipped, hoping to hear that laugh from your gut but you stayed quiet instead, avoiding his gaze.

“Sometimes I think I must really be worse than the rest of them,” you spoke into the night wind. “I was willing to let you carry all that weight just to be free of it.”

“You’re the best of them I’ve ever met,” he said, thigh warm where you fitted your legs against him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder.

Jin swallowed thickly.

“Why didn’t I kill you? I don’t know, probably because you weren’t going to kill me.”

“And isn’t that the real paradox?” you asked. “We’re all just hurting each other in defense of ourselves. But against what? And how did it start?”

“Where does it all end?” he threw back at you.

“I don’t know,” your answer echoed into the night while the two of you sat in a few more moments of city quiet while he gathered his courage and gripped your hand.

“Like this maybe,” Jin murmured, leaning down to brush his nose to yours, hesitating for a moment.

As always with you, the reasons for his actions were muddled and unclear, but felt like the thing to do. In the half dark parking garage, exposed in the cool air, it felt right to tilt his chin and savor the pull of his stubble on your cheek, the swell of your lips smoothing over his own.

Your cheek was cold in his palm, even through the gloves of his suit. So open, so exposed, Jin couldn’t tell if you no longer required the defense of cloth and metal or if you’d purposefully left your armor behind years ago. Too tired now to dodge the blows. Hoping one day they wouldn’t miss.

He hummed when you slotted your mouth more firmly against his, palm snaking up his forearm and squeezing. When you drew back, a thin string of silvery spit hung between your lips.

“I think I was expecting something a bit bloodier,” you chuckled, resting your forehead on his, pressing against the rough skin of his scar.

“I can do that,” he grunted, feeling the rush of his blood pooling low in his gut as he gripped your waist.

You landed softly in his lap, legs trained to move at a moment's notice easily fitting themselves on either side of him, your ass nestled against his thighs. There were not many words that followed after that. The cool night air had goosebumps erupting over the skin of your chest as Jin tugged at your shirt to bare more skin to him. He groaned when he finally got his mouth around the pebbling skin of your nipple and suckled there. Above him your hands hugged him closer and your hips shifted back and forth against his dick, slowly filling out under your weight.

He nipped at your chest, pulling back with a wet pop as you sighed and dipped down to press sloppy kisses along his jaw and suck his tongue into your mouth. All the while, two sets of clumsy hands pushed and pulled at the fabric between you, creating just enough space for his cock to spring free and slide along the sweet slick leaking from you.

The air caught in your throat as the tip nudged your clit and warmth began to build between your bodies, steam wafting away into the swiftly brightening sky.

This time, when he caught your eye, so close with your foreheads pressed together and sharing your breath, the smile you gave him was just as warm as the feeling of you slowly enveloping his length.

And Jin didn’t hesitate.

In a flurry of movement he rose up on his knees and had your back pressed flush with the cool concrete, ankles locked above the curve of his ass as his hips rolled and you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

You were tight around him, clamping down as he thrust into you at an even pace, the slap of your skin lost to the growing sounds of the city coming alive with the sun. And as he pushed you both towards your highs, Jin thought that right there, right then, he was right.

This is where it would end, whatever battle was being fought would start and end with two strangers on the roof of this desolate parking garage—shouldering a weight unimaginable, and choosing to live anyway.

And then you moaned in his ear, tugging him impossibly closer and rocking your hips up to meet each slam of his, any coherent thought concerning the grander morality of this years long conflict drowned in your gasps and praise and the softness of your skin on his own.

---

There was a small pile of ash growing at his feet when you finally rejoined him at the edge of the roof, clothed again though not nearly enough to ward off the early morning chill.

Jin slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close as he took another drag. He held the smoke deep in his lungs as he offered you the cigarette.

You shook your head again, but leaned in to press another kiss to his lips, smoke curling around your teeth.

“I told you I don’t smoke,” you mumbled between licks behind his teeth. “I’d rather go out with a bang, ya know?”

Jin nudged your cheek with his and turned his face back out towards the city skyline where the sun was gently rising over the sea of buildings.

“I love the sunrises here,” he said, casually, as though this was nothing more than a meeting between friends.

And really wasn’t that true? Jin smiled at the thought.

The two of you were quiet again as the morning grew brighter until you softly slipped out from his grasp.

“My shift’ll be ending soon,” you huffed by way of explanation and gathered the rest of your gear from the ground. “I gotta report back.”

“Hey,” Jin called after, panicked by the thought of suddenly being left with the sun and the ignorant crowds soon to be pouring onto the streets.

Never alone, even if you want to be.

“You have to make it back now,” he continued, catching your eye and for the second time, feeling unwavering resolve. “I want to see you again when it’s all over.”

You smiled again, that same one from before but with life behind it. And he thought that maybe that was what you’d looked like at the start. New and young and full of heroic will to fight.

He found he couldn’t wait to know what you’d look like when everything was said and done.

“I guess I’ll have to watch my back then,” you chuckled, turning your wrist to grip his forearm and nodding. “Watch yours too, okay?”

“I will,” he grinned and nodded, slipping his grip to your hand and shaking on the pact.

You tugged then with a strength he hadn’t expected, throwing him off balance and stumbling behind as you lept to the cement ledge.

“See then, Jin.”

He didn’t have the time to shout before you’d disappeared over the side. He scrambled forward, nearly throwing himself off after you, but the ground below was clear as he stared wide eyed. There was no sign to say you’d been here at all except for the burn in his thighs and the indents of your nails on his hand.

He took a deep breath, calming the rattle in his chest and fighting the urge to light another cigarette. As the sidewalks began to fill with commuters, Jin decided it was time that he slipped away as well. And as he walked he thought again that you really must be the best hero he’d ever met.

As much as he’d spent obsessing over for what unknowable reason he had spared your life, he hadn’t thought at all about the implications of you sparing him too.

Worse than the rest of them.

The words echoed in Jin’s head and he scoffed as he shuffled down the stairs to the street.

He shielded his eyes against the sun as he emerged into the crowd and made his way back towards the League’s hideout, confident in the knowledge that you were the best of them all.

And he would see you again, sometime on the other side.

#jin bubaigawara x reader #jin x reader #twice x reader #tw smoking #tw blood #bee.writes #dgbmh collab #bee.talks

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killugonficlibrary · 3 years

Text

Killugon: College AU

"There’s no way these lovestruck cantaloupes are passing their classes.” ~worm in theory

2 Series. 21 Works. 1 Tumblr.

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Oh My God, They Were Roommates by korns ( T | 125,170 | 27/27 )

After a terrible first semester, Gon transfers to a university in San Francisco where he gets a stellar deal on a one-bedroom apartment.

At least, it was a stellar deal until he moves in and realizes that he inadvertently signed a lease with a complete stranger as a roommate. Not only that, but his accidental roommate is the single hottest guy in his major, Killua Zoldyck, and everyone and their mother is trying to get with him.

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Critical Hit by korns ( T | 55,847 | 11/11 )

After a medical crisis, Gon's confined to bedrest and he needs to do something—anything— to keep his mind occupied, even if that thing is the latest game on the market: Hunter Vs Hunter. Gon becomes consumed by the world of gaming and streaming where he finds a famous, furious, and devilishly handsome streamer by the name Kill.

When Gon's dorm friend introduces them in a match, Kill's fanbase goes crazy because of one simple fact: That Gon is an absolute newbie who can kick Kill's ass any day, any time.

Kill won't stop until he ends Gon's winning streak—even if that means flying Gon out to a nation-wide HvsH tournament to face off, kick ass, and meet for the first time.

Series Part 1 of Trending: Kill’s Lifestyle Vlogs

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No Filter x Serial Dating by korns ( M | 71,287 | 14/14 )

Gon is a serial romantic with an addiction to online dating. Killua is the barista stuck taking the orders of every date Gon Freecss reels in. It wouldn't be an issue if Gon wasn't such a hot topic—star running back for the Yorknew University football team as a freshmen, member of the most iconic fraternity at Yorknew, and general campus heartthrob.

When Gon convinces Killua to be his gym buddy, it sounds and feels like the friend zone. But who knew the #GymLife was so gay anyway? Certainly not Killua.

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[Series] college is a scam, here’s why: by callmebyyourmango ( T | 4,228+ | 2 Works | WIP )

college is a scam. these fics will tell you why.

CURRENTLY PUBLISHED:

1. group projects require comfort [ 1/1 chapters ] 2. core requirements are unnecessary and expensive [ 1/1 chapters ]

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[Series] Warning Signs by vitrifica ( E | 14,671+ | 2 Works | WIP )

Wet dreams are making Killua's life hard- especially when he realizes his best friend is starring in them. When a storm traps Gon and Killua together for the night, can he keep his fantasies in check?

CURRENTLY PUBLISHED:

1. Caution: Wet [ 2/2 chapters ] 2. Tripping Hazard [5/? chapters ]

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Tease by kornspiracy ( E | 132,115 | 22/22 )

No fucking way, Killua thought. There’s no way Gon is a porn star.

He clicked onto the account’s profile page. There, in perfect clarity, was a picture of Gon Freecss’ face.

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The Only Exception by yahlreh ( M | 124,844+ | 28/? )

Sex. That's all Killua wants. Afterall, love doesn't exist in his mind, but that all comes to a close as soon as he meets his new roommate - Gon Freecss. Upon meeting the happy, go-lucky boy, Killua can't help but want to indulge on him, but it never seems to be enough as he allows his heart to constantly get in the way.

Warning: This story is heavily laced with mature themes and sexual content. Read at your own pace.

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7g4EuDtd1xAvvu7mXnzz9H?si=78f0fb13b62c4d5d

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phantom pains by sunsetters (sanitized) ( T | 43,957 | 11/11 )

Killua moves into his new apartment.

He's not alone.

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The Bells Are Ringing by DecemberCamie ( T | 4,432 | 1/1 )

“Gon,” Killua interrupted. He was clenching his jaw so hard it hurt. “Why don’t you have any pants on?!”

“Hmm? Oh, but I do! I have my-”

“That’s your underwear!” Killua’s voice jumped an octave. “That doesn’t count!”

“Yes it does! All the important bits are covered, so it definitely counts!”

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Dragons vs Foxbears by DecemberCamie ( T | 4,972 | 1/1 )

When Gon first meets Killua, he’s drunk and stumbling through some party Zushi dragged him to after losing the match. He doesn’t know what bar he’s in, what time it is, or how he got there. He doesn’t even know Killua’s name when he challenges him to a fight. All he knows is the white haired guy is wearing the opposing team’s colors—

And then Gon is on the ground.

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To Break Pose by DecemberCamie ( T | 4,695 | 1/1 )

Gon asks Killua to be his model for his full-body art portrait project. It takes some begging, and bribing with chocolate, but eventually Killua agrees to help.

The thing is, though, Gon never expected for Killua to model nude.

The other thing? Gon finds he really doesn't mind this new development.

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College AU [Tumblr] - DecemberCamie ( T | 739 | 1/1 )

“How about a challenge to speed this up?” Killua started, lifting his gaze to lock on Gon. “I quiz you, you answer. If you answer right, you get a reward.”

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Socially Unacceptable Pickup Lines by korns ( T | 7,948 | 1/1 )

Gon Freecss is the new lone wolf on a campus founded on cliques, frats, and sororities for paranormal species. With everyone and their grandmother trying to recruit Gon, the co-op where Killua and his rag-tag team of mixed-species seems to be the last place on Gon's list.

Until Gon agrees to visit under the pretense of meeting a ghost and maybe, possibly hitting on Killua while he's there.

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Thinking In Circles by korns ( T | 10,362 | 1/1 )

After signing a lease together, Gon takes Killua out to celebrate and their innocent night turns into a kiss on the front lawn of a frat house. As a flaming asexual, Killua is mortified and pitched into a downward spiral. To top it off, they're both bound for a two-day road trip to their shared internship in the middle-of-nowhere Utah.

Stuck together and on the cusp of an existential crisis, Killua has to decide just how, exactly, to broach the nature of their relationship.

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Don’t Hold Back by Anon_Co_op ( E | 12,761 | 2/2 )

Gon cussed, thinking of all the different ways to call himself an idiot.

They all sounded like something Killua would say.

Would Killua still call him that if Gon said he was in love with him? . Or, Gon and Killua's 'friends with benefits' arrangement takes the 'un'-expected turn for the worse(?)

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there’s glitter on the floor after the party by reeyachan ( T | 1,195 | 1/1 )

Gon never drinks.

And Killua wonders why in the world he would decide to try it now, of all days, of all nights. Why now, when it's less than 12 hours before graduation?

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freudian slip by slowlange ( E | 15,171 | 1/1 )

“Our entertainment for the night. Or at least, I hope it is.”

Leorio throws a confident gaze to his audience before pulling something much, much smaller than a blunt.

Or, Killua and Gon trip on molly together. The events that ensue may or may not change Killua for the better, and show him that there's more out there that life has to offer.

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Cracked Lens by bluphacelia ( T | 7,949 | 1/1 )

A soft peel of classical music assaulted his senses as a soft yellow light spilled into the hallway—a night class? He continued forward, trying to keep his footsteps quiet. He felt the tug of curiosity and he glanced through the door, eyes flittering past easels and canvases and he stopped—paralyzed. There in the midst of art students was the perfect portrait.

-- Gon finds something he didn't know he was looking for.

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Art & Honey by wtfquitplayin ( M | 4,402 | 1/1 )

Killua is forced to go to a party, forgets his lighter, and meets Gon.

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Stellar Date by losing_sanity_fast ( T | 3,627 | 1/1 )

Canary wins a date with Gon in a lottery, but she's a) a lesbian, b) in a relationship so she doesn't want to go. As a joke Killua decides to go instead of her. Gon already has tickets and a reservation so he just rolls with it.

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Dungeon x Hunter by sub_divided ( G | 13,683 | 4/4 )

Every Sunday Killua, Gon, Leorio and Kurapika meet up to play "Dungeon x Hunter" (loosely based on DnD 5e) with Leorio as Dungeon Master. Why is Leorio the DM, you ask? Well, these nerds all met at the college roleplaying club two years ago, but recently, with Kurapika in law school and Leorio in med school, and Killua and Gon taking harder undergrad classes, no one has time to meet up anymore. Therefore, Leorio has taken it upon himself to DM their sessions, just as an excuse to get everyone together once a week.

Alluka, also a college student, is staying with Killua during the Christmas Break. Having heard about these Sunday roleplaying sessions from Killua, and especially about the antics of a chaotic multiclass druid/barbarian who keeps adopting all the animals (Gon duh), she asks if she can come along. The crew welcome Alluka into the nerd fold as romance gradually blossoms between Gon and Killua, and Leorio fights to keep Kurapika from ghosting them all as a stress response to lawschool deadlines.

Basically a heartwarming slice of life story about nerds playing Dungeons and Dragons. I'll be updating Wednesdays and Sundays until all the chapters are posted.

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First x or x Hundredth by gomicchi ( M | 1,837 | 1/1 )

Killua pays very little attention to his philosophy lecture. Gon tends to his duties as a part time groundskeeper. The first case may or may not be related somehow to the second.

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Wait, We Had a Test Today?! by itiaskia ( M | 21,096+ | 4/? )

College is certainly an experience, to say the least.

It's a time for self exploration, learning lessons, making terrible decisions, and meeting people you either never want to leave or never want to see again.

Gon didn't really know what to expect, but it wasn't what he got. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The one where everyone meddles in Killua’s and Gon’s relationship by tulip05 ( M | 6,327+ | 4/? )

Killua thinks Gon likes girls, more specifically Retz, and that they're the perfect couple. Gon thinks Killua is way too cool for him. They're both wrong. Good thing they have friends to meddle.

#KilluGon #hxh #killugon masterlist #long post #au: uni #curator gabs

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