#me. who died at least a million times doing that: Listen

[starry-bi-sky]

i've mentioned in a few past posts about an au where Danny is a variant of Jason Todd. I haven't made a post about it yet because I need a good rhythm flowing however i've been listening to Gladiator by Jann and I have been having thoughts.

but first, let me set the au:

Danny Fenton is Jason Todd, or at least, a variant of him. A him from a universe separate to the major Batman timeline - but still Jason Todd, down to the structure of his face and his name itself. The only thing that changes, is who picks him up - and, that he follows old Batman canon, and was an orphan. Jason Todd steals the tires off the batmobile and wallops Batman with his tirejack, and then runs off. Shortly after, he gets picked up by the Fentons.

(Customary line break,,,, word count check: 5k)

And his name changes from Jason Todd to Danny Fenton. He doesn't care much for the new name change, it stems from his mute refusal to share his name to the people that picked him up; an attempt to make him untraceable should he get away from them, and to keep something of his to himself. So they name him something new. He grows to like it enough as he acclimates to his new family.

(He hangs onto the name Jason Todd like a secret - he may be 'Danny Fenton' now, but he'll never forget his time on Gotham's streets. He'll always be Jason Todd.)

(Jazz is the only one who he tells his name to in the family - she affectionately calls him Jay whenever she wants.)

He becomes friends with Sam and Tucker and deals with Dash and his bullying. And when Danny steps in during a fight between Dash and another student, Dash gives him a bleeding nose and mockingly says, "Do you think you're Robin just because you're from Gotham, Fenton?"

Jason looks him in the eyes and he bares his teeth, "Why not?" he asks, spitting blood, "being Robin gives me magic."

The nickname sticks. It's supposed to be an insult; Daniel Fenton is not Robin, he'll never be Robin. Not now, not in a million years. Jason Todd has always wanted to be Robin, so he takes the insult and wears it proudly. He buys a school varsity jacket and painstakingly undos the stitching of all the school's motif on it. On the breast of it, he embroiders in a black circle with the Boy Wonder "R" on it instead. It's not good stitching, but the next day Danny wears it down to breakfast and into school.

In normal au canon, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton (its a mouthful, just call him Danny) only meets the Waynes after he becomes Phantom - an event that leans more towards Daniel Fenton's accident than Jason Todd's death, but traumatizes him all the same. (Is it too much to want to be mourned? His best friends like to deny that he died - and Danny - Jason? - wishes they wouldn't, even if he did come back.)

(The accident embitters him, even more when his parents don't seem to pick up on it. He stops calling himself Danny Fenton - he's always been Jason Todd. It shows itself in his ghostly form. He doesn't want to wear the thing he died in, not in something that belongs to the Fentons, and his suit reflects that.)

In this timeline, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton, aged 13, meets Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne after a mishap with magic on the other end of the reality sends the three of them careening through time and space, and spat back out on the other end, in a world not their own. And together.

Danny is paired with a very confused Bruce Wayne and Richard Grayson. Luckily, there's a few heroes there to help them. Danny can hardly comprehend the idea that he's in another universe - he doesn't know why Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne are seemingly handling it well.

On their way to a secondary base with the heroes, Danny turns to Bruce Wayne and asks, "So, is it part of rich-person training that you're just totally chill with being sent into another universe, or are you just weird?"

Bruce Wayne huffs at him, rather than get offended, and he smiles that dumb lopsided billionaire smile that Danny's seen on every vogue magazine he's been in. "I'm not so worried with these skilled heroes here to help us get home."

Danny silently concludes that he's just weird. At least Dick Grayson is biting back a smile behind him. "Riiiight..." He says, dragging the vowel out dryly.

When they get to that secondary location -- a safehouse that one of the heroes had set up -- the three of them are sat in a living room-like room while one hero, Zatanna, goes and calls someone from the Justice League. The other two heroes stay with the three of them.

Within a few hours, Danny is face to face with Batman - someone who he hasn't seen since he whacked him in the stomach with a tire iron - and Nightwing. For a moment, Danny swears that the both of them look almost spooked by him.

Batman stares at him for a moment when he enters, and then he goes to speak with Bruce Wayne. Danny doesn't care enough to hear what they're talking about, he pulls out his phone as Nightwing goes to speak with Dick Grayson.

"Are you a fan of Robin, little man?" Someone says, and when Danny looks up he locks eyes with Dick Grayson -- who is leaning around Nightwing to talk to him, the both of them are smiling. And considering who Nightwing was, Danny finds himself turning pink to the ears.

But he will not hide his jacket. He forces a grin through his embarrassment, "Hell yeah, man, Robin's cool." He says, and pushes his arms down to pull out the hem of his letterman, showing off the emblem. "I made it m'self out of a school varsity after the A-Listers started callin' me Robin."

"A-Listers?"

"Popular kids," Danny corrects, loosing his hold on the hem and brushing invisible wrinkles out of the embroidery. "They didn't like that I kept stepping in when they were bullying. Dash asked me if i thought I was Robin because I was from Gotham."

Dick Grayson looks intrigued -- and concerned, and he leans forward onto his knees and raises an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

And Danny grins a shark-like thing, straightening back his shoulders with a burning sort of smug pride and all the sharpness of broken glass left in Crime Alley. "I told him being Robin gave me magic, and then I punched him."

Dick Grayson's smile widens, splitting into showing teeth as he leans back into his seat. Danny isn't sure why he's so delighted - but Nightwing looks incredibly amused, and he suddenly remembers that the Robin himself was there in front of him.

Danny's face burns anew and his arms fold themselves in front of him once again.

"I don't think I ever caught your name, Robin." Dick Grayson goes, his voice thick with laughter, and Nightwing steps off to the side as Batman and Bruce Wayne walk over to join them both. They're just close enough that Danny can see Bruce Wayne raise an eyebrow at them both.

"It's Jason." Danny says before he can think about it, and barely stops himself from frowning at himself for the slip. He amends himself, glancing over at Batman and Bruce as they get closer. "But everyone calls me Danny."

Dick Grayson's head recoils slightly, and he looks a little surprised. "Why Danny?" He asks.

"Why Dick?" He shoots back, and Bruce and Dick both smile at him, with Dick Grayson shrugging with an expression that looks like 'you've got a point.'

In the end, the three of them - yes, three - get sent to this world's Wayne Manor, and Danny is bewildered by that decision to include himself -- he's not a Wayne. Why not just send him to the Fentons?

Batman tells him that the Fentons don't exist in this world, and Danny falls silent. "Oh." He says quietly, a pit growing in his stomach with an ill-kind of dread. He can't keep Batman's gaze, looking away with unease.

No Fentons in this world. No Fentons. Where was he then, in the grand scheme of things? Where was he in this world? What happened to Jason Todd? Was he even alive? He can't keep the worry off his face, and he jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder. When he looks up, Dick Grayson squeezes him gently.

Dick Grayson is steadily beginning to remind him of his sister.

-

They end up driving back in the Batmobile. It's such a shock to Danny that he momentarily forgets the lack of Fentons. He makes a laugh sound, actually, and immediately he covers his hand with his mouth and stares at the car -- tank? with his teeth sunk into his lower lip.

"Jason?" Dick says, and hearing his name being spoken feels like someone touched him with a livewire. It's weird, it's foreign - he hates, in some way, that it's foreign - and it's so nice. Yes, that's me.

He drops his hand immediately. "Sorry." He says, realizing he'd stopped in his tracks, "I -uh, was just surprised."

"It's not every day someone sees the Batmobile." Dick agrees. Nightwing has his back to them but Danny swears he sees his shoulders shaking a little.

"Yeah," Danny nods slowly, dragging his eyes over the batmobile as Batman opens the driver's side and gets in. He thinks for a moment, of what he should say next - whether to admit that he's seen it before, or to pretend that he's seeing it for the first time. Snd as Nightwing opens the door for him, Bruce, and Dick, he chooses the funnier option; "The last time I saw it, I was stealing its tires."

To his surprise and unsurprise, Danny only gets two pairs of eyes on him. Nightwing gets into the passenger seat as both Bruce and Dick turn their gaze onto him; Dick's eyes big like they were going to bulge out of his head.

"You what!?"

So Danny tells an amazed Dick Grayson that he hit Batman with a tire iron after he stole his tires - something he is very proud about and also incredibly embarrassed about when he retells what happened in the backseat of the batmobile, with Batman and Nightwing listening in from the front seat.

(Bruce Wayne doesn't ever tell Dick shit, he's going to lord this over Bruce's head the moment they are alone.)

"Please tell me this didn't happen in this world." Danny groans behind his palms as he sinks into his seat. Dick Grayson is killing himself laughing on his left, and he saw Bruce Wayne stifling a smile before he obscured his vision with his hands.

Much to his luck, its Batman himself who speaks next, (Danny was being mostly rhetorical). "It did." He says, and his voice sounds like the rumble of the earth before a stampede. It will never not throw Danny off every time he hears it. "It takes quite a lot of spunk to steal the tires off the batmobile."

He can't believe it. Batman is making fun of him. Fucking, Batman.

He wants to die with embarrassment. He groans even louder as Dick Grayson's laughter crescendoes. Danny risks a peak through his fingers, he doesn't know whether to regret it or not because he can just barely see Batman smirk very faintly from his position in the middle.

(His world axis tilts five degree leftways seeing it; like someone dunked a bucket of ice water on him.)

"He ended up being adopted by the Bruce Wayne of this world."

Danny's hands drop with his jaw into his lap. Dick Grayson on his left chokes on his laughter and careens into a coughing fit. Bruce Wayne on his right chokes on air, and quickly recovers himself with a cough behind a closed fist.

"What?" Danny croaks.

-

Apparently, Bruce Wayne's family is much larger in this world than it is in his. Danny can barely wrap his head around the idea that he ends up adopted by the man, but now he has to learn that Wayne had several children in this world?

He's still not wrapped his head around it when the three of them wind up at Wayne Manor, finally, or even when he's standing in front of him himself. For his effort, Bruce Wayne does a good job at looking unruffled by it.

God, he's weird. Danny's starting to quite like it, actually. How human of him.

He still can't wrap his head around it when he meets the rest of Bruce Wayne's children, all of whom are already aware of the three of them. Danny thinks that someone from the Justice League might've alerted them before they got here.

It makes sense, he supposes.

It helps that they are just as weirded out as he is. A boy named Tim Drake sees him for the first time and blurts out; "Oh wow, you're tiny." In a tone like he's just seen a two-headed snake burst out of the ground.

Danny is still offended. He's still growing. It's not his fault he spent twelve years of his life malnourished. "I'm gonna be taller than you," he tells him seriously, "and when I do I'm gonna kick your ass."

Tim snorts at him.

The other Bruce Wayne -- Mr. Wayne's -- youngest looks at him up and down with a face of carefully controlled judgement. His name is Damian, he's Bruce Wayne's only biological son. Danny can't believe that there's only one.

If anything, Bruce Wayne himself looks surprised too.

"Todd, yes?" Damian says, his green eyes narrowed at him.

Danny feels like the specimen under his parents' microscope, he feels like he's standing on a platform that's being slowly spun by scientists. He looks over at Bruce Wayne in confusion, and then back at Damian. "I- yes?"

Damian Wayne nods, and then leaves.

Danny does not once see himself. That is unsettling in and of itself - surely Jason Todd would have been told about another version of himself in this world, wouldn't he? How old is he here? An adult, probably. Danny doesn't know if he wants to see him. What does he look like when he's grown up? He pulls his Robin jacket around him a little tighter, like a cocoon, like a shield.

"It's weird to hear them call me Jason Todd." He says aloud to himself, and it leaves a weight behind in his chest that shouldn't hurt the way it does. It shouldn't be weird to be called your name. It shouldn't cobweb up your throat to hear your name being said. It was his name. It was his.

-

Danny acclimates to the manor slowly. The house is big, massive. He's never been in a house so large before, he feels like a stray cat being taken in for the first time, again. He and Bruce and Dick Grayson are all given their own separate rooms - one of many inside this mansion - and the sheer size of his bedroom is bigger than his living room and kitchen combined.

it's daunting. Danny sits outside on the balcony and stares at the stars he can see - Wayne Manor is far enough away from Gotham that its light pollution doesn't obscure the sky here like it did in the heart of it.

Danny finds the constellations he can find and wishes he had his books with him. He finds the library the next day and buries himself in the back, curling up into a comfy armchair next and inhaling each book he can get his hands on.

Tim Drake wanders past him at some point, Danny would have missed him if it weren't for the fact that Drake stared at him strangely when he saw him. He walks away when he realizes Danny was staring back.

It's a rinse and repeat for the next few days. Danny doesn't go to meals, he sneaks food from the kitchen afterwards, and then buries himself in hundreds of books in the library.

Dick Grayson, the one from his world, goes and finds him three days later. Danny's eyes hurt with strain by then, but he is furiously halfway through a Jane Austen novel when Dick sits down across from him.

"Have you been here all day?" Dick asks, he drapes himself across the side of his chair, contorting himself into a position that Danny doesn't think is comfortable when he looks up at him.

Not that he looks up at him long - he hums absently and goes back to reading. Frowning when he realizes he lost his place on the page.

Dick Grayson raises an eyebrow, "Have you at least eaten anything?"

Danny hums. No, he hasn't, and he hadn't thought about eating all day. Until now that is, his frown ever deepening as his stomach pangs with a deep hunger.

"That's not healthy."

"Mhm."

"Are you going to eat something?"

"Mhhh."

And this gets Dick to frown. He straightens himself up, propping onto his elbows to stare at Danny. "Jason." He says strongly. And it's that that gets Danny to finally look up from his page, jumping like he'd again been poked with a live wire as he stares at Dick with wide eyes.

"Yes?"

"Put the book down." Dick orders, gesturing towards the side table next to Danny with a nod. "And come eat something." There's very little room for argument in his voice, he sounds like Jazz when she's trying to parent him, but instead he actually sounds authoritative. Not bossy.

Danny still frowns at him. "You're not the boss of me." He says, sinking back into his chair with a thumb bookmarking his page.

Dick gives him a look and makes a decisive noise, swaggling his head side to side while he does. "I'm pretty sure that for as long as we're here, me and B actually are the boss of you."

He's never really liked authority figures, not ones that tried to boss him around, that is. Danny doubles down, his lips curling into a shadow of a scowl. "Just because you're my brother in another world doesn't mean you can act like it."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"I don't want to go eat."

"It's not good for you to skip meals."

"Quit talking like Jazz."

"Danny."

Danny sinks his teeth into his lip and scowls darkly at him, shrinking into the back of his armchair in hopes that it'll swallow him whole. The idea of going into that large fucking dining room fills him with a dread that makes him completely forget his appetite.

"Your fucking- dining room is- it's too big." He grits out, finally closing his book and hugging it tightly to his chest.

Dick blinks at him. "What?"

"You heard me! It's too big. This whole place is too big. It's- what do you even do with this much space? I don't know how this- other me ever lived here."

Dick Grayson surprises him, and his expression softens. "Oh," he says, "I get it."

"You do?" The tension bleeds slowly out of Danny's shoulders

"Yeah, I felt the same way when I first moved in with Bruce. I lived with the circus for most of my life, but I slept in a trailer." He says. And he talks more.

The end result of their conversation ends with Dick Grayson offering to let Danny sit across or next to him during mealtimes, and that he can talk to him if he starts getting uneasy. But he can't keep skipping meals - it was making them all worried.

Danny agrees, and Dick takes him down to the kitchens for food.

"They look at me weirdly too." He grumbles as they leave the library, Danny's book returned to the shelf where it belonged. When Dick looks at him curiously, he scrunches his nose up. "The - your other siblings. They look at me like I'm- I'm someone else. S'weird."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Dick asks, "You are someone else."

Dany shrugs, staring at the ground with a heavy frown. "I don't know."

-

Danny seeks out Dick more after that. And vice versa. Dick reminds Danny of Jazz, and he latches onto the familiarity like a leech. If Dick is bothered by it, he doesn't show it, whether he's talking to his other world's self, to the Bruce's, or to one of the other Wayne kids.

Damian Wayne seems particularly keen to seek him out, Danny finds. He thinks it means that they're close in this world, and that Damian wants to see more of what a young Dick is like. That's what he would do, at least.

He takes up on Dick's offer of seating near him during dinner, and finds an open spot across from him. Unless he has something to show him, then he sits next to him.

("You can call me Jason." He tells him one day when they're in the Wayne's massive, fuck-off gym and they're both climbing over the jungle gym. Dick's showing him how to be more flexible. It's the most Danny's worked out ever, he likes the burn it gives him.

Dick looks at him in surprise, "Really?" he's doing a handstand on the bars and Danny's more than a little jealous at his balance.

"Yeah, dipshit," he says, rolling his eyes, "I'll even let you call me Jay, it's my nickname."

Dick happily takes him up on that offer, and much to Danny's embarrassment, starts calling him Jaybird. All because of his stupid Robin jacket.)

Danny has yet to meet his other self still, it's scaring him a little. Where was he? And matter of fact, how long until he could go back to his home dimension? The three of them hadn't gotten any updates since they arrived.

Speaking of, he was starting to talk to Bruce more, it was just... strange. Even stranger than talking to Dick. Bruce Wayne in another life would have been his adoptive father, Danny can't wrap his head around it for the life of him.

Whatever did Bruce Wayne see in Jason Todd that made him worth adopting? He's too afraid of the answer to ask. They start talking more after they run into each other late at night. Danny had been hit with a bout of insomnia and was going to the library.

He ran into Bruce on the way. He was just.. staring, out the window, with a faraway look in his eye. He didn't even look startled to see Danny standing there.

Danny asks him if he wants to go to the library with him. It was out of panic. He isn't expecting Bruce Wayne to agree, and they walk there in suffocating silence. Danny keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye.

("You're staring?" Bruce doesn't sound upset, Danny jumps anyway.

"Yeah, sorry." his voice sounds stilted, "it's just..." his jaw wires itself shut for a spell, "...you looked like you were about to disappear."

"Ah.")

When they reach the library, Danny leads Bruce Wayne into the science section and takes out books upon books about stars. He leads him over to the armchair and fire and they both sit down on the ground.

"When I lived in Gotham I would stargaze." Danny says, it's the first thing he can think of. Bruce Wayne looks at him quizzically. "Well, I would try to. The sky's too polluted for that. Mostly I would just watch the skyline and try and spot Batman and Robin, was the same thing."

That cracks a smile out of Bruce. It's a small one, barely there. "I hardly think the two are comparable."

Danny is still serious. "Not to me."

He goes on, talking about how after he was adopted he got his hands on every star book he could find. He loves english and he loves to read, but something about the stars drew him in like a song. He rambles about every star fact he knows with Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne surprises him by telling him facts he didn't know. Danny soaks it up like a sponge, listening intently to him speak. And when they run out of star books to talk about, Danny tells Bruce that it was his turn to find something for them to talk about.

Bruce Wayne smiles again at him, a sly little thing like Danny's challenged him, and gets up. He comes back with a stack of film books, and they spend the next few hours going through them. Bruce Wayne rattles off every single movie fun fact he knows, and there is so much that he knows.

Danny is in awe, and moves to press against Bruce's side to see the stuff he points at in his books.

"You're smarter than people give you credit for." He says at some point, when his eyes hurt from being open for too long and his head leans against Bruce's arm for support. It follows with a jaw-cracking yawn that he tries and fails to stifle.

"Thank you, Danny." Bruce says, his voice soft and soothing and not helping with Danny's weighing exhaustion. His eyes drift, and then jerk open. "Do you want to go back to your room? You look tired, chum."

He bites back a smile at the nickname, and fails to keep it bitten. "No, no, I'm awake." He mumbles, shaking his head slowly. "I wanna hear-" he yawns again, "-hear you talking."

Danny swears he can hear the smile in Bruce's voice as he speaks; "Alright. Now, where was I?"

In the end, Danny falls asleep on the floor of the library next to Bruce Wayne. He doesn't even realize it until he wakes up the next morning. But it's not to worry, Bruce Wayne fell asleep too, an arm thrown around Danny protectively like he was his own kid.

This becomes a thing for them soon enough. When neither of them can sleep, they go to the library and talk and talk about whatever comes to mind.

There comes the dreaded night after they've finished whatever book they were looking at when Bruce, the little shit, turns to Danny and goes; "You never mentioned what happened after you hit Batman with a tire iron."

Danny groans, big and dramatic, burying his head in his arms, and ignores the low chuckle. "I thought he was gonna chase me down for sure." He complains, his voice muffled by his arms.

"Why did you hit him with a tire iron?"

The look Bruce gets is one of pure disbelief. "If Mothman suddenly showed up behind you while you were taking the wheels off his ride, you'd hit him too!"

"Last time I checked, Mothman isn't real." Bruce told him amusedly, and Danny flops over onto his back to stare him down. His arms sprawl out like a starfish, intentionally hitting Bruce in the shoulder.

"You don't know that, Batman's a cryptid and he's real."

Bruce roars with laughter, and Danny preens like a bird.

That next morning when Bruce passes by him for breakfast, he reaches over and ruffles his hair. It's the same thing he does for Dick every morning. It's the first of many, and it gets many stares from the surrounding family.

Bruce has a newspaper tucked under his arm, and when he sits down Danny stands up and skedaddles over to him, leaning over the side of his chair to peer at the paper.

"Any cryptids spotted, Buzz?" He asks, getting a startled laugh out of Bruce, who looks up at him.

"Buzz?"

"Well, yeah," and Danny states it as matter-of-fact. He gestures his head at Dick Grayson. "Dick calls you 'B', and B is for bees, and I can't just call you Bees, that's dumb. So; Buzz."

He grins triumphantly when Bruce laughs quietly, his shoulders shaking imperceptibly. "I know," he tilts his head up proudly, "I'm a genius."

Now he's actually laughing, dropping his head into one of his hands and trying to quiet himself as much as possible. Danny is positively beaming, ignoring the stares of the other Waynes as he flounces back to his seat just as the other Mister Wayne enters the room.

-

When Jason Daniel Fenton Todd meets Jason Todd for the first time, they both just stare at each other.

Danny recognizes himself immediately in the library, and he freezes up. His tongue ties to the roof of his mouth, and he's unsure of what to say.

He doesn't need to say anything at all, because when Jason Todd looks up and they lock eyes, they both just stare. And stare. Jason Todd is a large, hulk of a man, built like a brick shithouse, with a tired, traumatized look in his eyes and a white streak in his black curls. The same black curls that Danny himself has.

He has no idea what to say. Or if he should turn back around and leave.

Jason Todd sighs at him, "I know they told me you and another world's Bruce and Dickie were here," he says, but it sounds like he's talking to himself. Even moreso when he mutters half-heartedly, "-but I was hoping I wouldn't run into you."

Danny feels small next to him. He doesn't know why. "Sorry." He says lamely, his one foot skips back, "I can leave if you want." It's unlike him to be meek, he thinks. Not after years of Gotham living and dealing with the likes of Dash and his Jerk Jocks.

But this also isn't the streets, and this isn't other kids being dicks. Jason Todd shakes his head, and gestures with one large arm for Danny to come over. "You don't need to do that, you were coming to read, right?"

He nods, and tentatively makes his way over. When Jason looks at him, he sees him cast his eyes over his Robin jacket - he wears it everyday. Danny sees him narrow his eyes, just slightly. But he says nothing.

It's... a strange conversation. Interaction. Jason Todd doesn't talk to him much, and if he does it's stilted and awkward, like he doesn't know how to treat him. Like he's holding him at arm's length.

Jason's getting tired of being treated like a ghost.

They talk about their books. They compare lives. Jason Todd was picked up a few days after he stole the wheels of the batmobile. He wasn't an orphan, he lived with his mom and his stepdad before he lived with Bruce. They both like to read, only Danny has an interest in the stars.

("What do your adoptive parents do?" Jason Todd asks him, one arm slung over the back of the armchair, he looks relaxed. He looks tense. Danny feels like he's back in Crime Alley again.

"They're 'ectologists'." He says, making air quotes over the word. He rolls his eyes, "Ghost hunters. They study the dead and all things afterlife."

Jason Todd makes a dry laugh huff, a sarcastic half-smile on his face. He doesn't explain why he does, Danny doesn't ask why. It doesn't seem like his business.)

Danny wants to ask him where he got that white streak in his hair. It doesn't feel right. It feels like his parents' lab, and that isn't right. Nothing ever feels like his parents' lab.

Jason Todd leaves first after giving him a few book recommendations. Danny isn't sure how to rate the experience. Being in Jason Todd's presence was like standing in a liminal space. An empty parking lot at night. When he leaves it feels like much the same thing.

He struggles to read his books afterwards, unable to shake the feeling of being haunted.

#THERE WILL BE A PART 2 #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny is jason todd au #daniel jason fenton todd #daniel jason fenton todd? #man i love these variant aus huh #somehing about exploring identity man #I DIDNT EVEN GET TO THE PART THAT WAS THE WHOLE REASON I MADE THE WHOLE POST #that will be in part 2 onfg #but its so late i've been writing for literally hours #you know its late bc these tags aren't half as long as they normally are #its not a starry au unless it needs a read more #there's so much fluff here folks #so much fluff #it was supposed to be rlly only between dick and danny but bruce the sneaky bastard snuck in there #bc i needed him to also??? be on Good Terms with danny #parental ambiguity with the fenton parents. are they good? are they bad? who knows! #claps loudly IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT DANNY DOES NOT FIGURE OUT THEIR IDENTITY AT ALL DURING THIS #starry coming in hot with another unnecessarily long au #none of my friends are in DPDC so tumblr gets it instead

[anundyingfidelity]

FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS – Loki x female reader

Summary: Loki escapes the TVA for a moment. Desperate and brokenhearted, he looks for you, his wife, in the Sacred Timeline. Even if you saw him die ten years ago.

Word count: 3.9k.

Warnings: LOTS of angst, some fluff, spoilers of Loki series in general. Language. Maybe I'm not getting how the branches work oops. This is right after the end of 2x02 and before 2x03. My English is also a warning, just in case.

Notes: while looking on the tags I checked a post of someone asking for a TVA Loki fic where he finds the reader but her Loki died in IW (not canon in my head btw). So I wrote it because is such a great idea, but I can't find the original post... ;-; anyway hope you like this!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

It's harder to stay...

Wasn't this situation hard enough? Sylvie was right. She had a point. But Loki wanted to do the right thing. Maybe he would find a chance... Again, right? Probably he would make the proper decisions this time.

The TVA was already fucked up, and with it, the thousands of timelines and lives in danger within them. Sometimes, it looked like it didn't matter. In the end, they were trying to fix something that was already broken.

Loki let out a deep breath he didn't realise was holding and walked to talk directly to his partner, Mobius.

"I need a favor," Loki mumbled, so the grey-haired man would be the only person to hear his voice.

Mobius met his eyes. He knew that gaze, it meant he was up to something. "What kind of favor?"

The god motioned Mobius to step away from the newly acknowledged variants and far away from what B-15 was witnessing. The branches were pruned from the whole existence; thousands and millions of lifes lost to the void in just the blink of an eye. Loki knew he had to do something before it got worst. Something for himself.

"I need to go the Sacred Timeline," Loki announced.

"Are you nuts?" Mobius scolded, in the same low voice tone Loki had used.

"Is just- listen, it's something I have to do. I really need to go back there. Need to see someone, make sure everything is okay," Loki insisted.

During all the times Loki showed he was desperate, Mobius was sure this was the peak of all of them. He wasn't explaning more than necessary, he looked serious, and his voice was crisp. Loki knew what he wanted at that moment. Mobius sighed, his hands finding the pockets of his pants, unsure of Loki's request.

"So it's personal..."

"A little, yeah," Loki nodded.

"Promise it'll be quick," Mobius said, taking off the TemPad from his pocket and his hand stopped in the air before the object could lay in the god's grip. "Don't make me regret this."

"I won't."

2029, Sacred Timeline

When Loki arrived to his destination, the nerves got the best from him. New York looked no different from the last time he was there. Shifting his usual clothes he wore at the TVA, he chose a plain suit to go undercover, or at least decided he would try to, considering he was a criminal once in Midgard.

But as he walked through the halls of the familiar building he met decades ago, he didn't really care. He longed for something else. Better say, someone. And it was you.

You, who met him in the past right after Thor's banishment, and even helped him to find the Teseract, only to give up to SHIELD and those idiots that people called 'The Avengers'. Of course his heart hurted for a long time, but Loki tried to deny the feelings blooming inside and instead, he just decided to walk away from you, even if that meant hurting you. It was the best.

At least that was what he believed until he checked further his file; the file that Mobius had prepared for him. His life. Even after what he did to your people and planet, you still held no grudges. And Thor was good enough to seek for yours and the sorcerer's, Stephen Strange, help once Hela appeared in their lives.

Loki would never forget the loving look in your beautiful eyes when you saw him again, after years of parting ways. He really paid attention to you while watching his file, and he found there was only love, protection, and care in you. All for him. Someone who didn't deserve it, he thought.

He felt grateful at least he had the pleasure to enjoy happiness for a moment. Even if that meant Asgard was destroyed. Loki already lost his mother, his father, and he almost lost his brother. He couldn't stand losing you either. The simple idea of living without you - even if he didn't know you further than your Loki did - was unbearable pain.

So while in the ship on the way to Midgard with the asgardians and survivors of the Ragnarok, you held a cozy, small wedding when he asked you to marry him. This was one of the parts Loki would replay again and again from his file, with disbelief that he was actually happy and joyful, enjoying a good time with you, his brother, and all the asgardians who survived. Loki felt full of hope after your wedding, thinking fate had better things to come with you as an oficial part of his life.

Unfortunately, it didn't last long, thanks to the Mad Titan. As his steps got near your door, the memory of his brother and your figure mourning on his lifeless body appeared on his mind. It was an image he couldn't erase that easily. Probably, he would never forget that was his original destiny all the way. That was meant to be. And for now, he could not change it.

Loki stopped outside your apartment. He took a deep breath and raised his shaking hand to reach the doorbell. He waited for a moment, not knowing if seconds or minutes went by, it felt eternal. Until the door opened and he saw you.

The bright smile you had on your lips faded away. Your eyes flooded with tears, your forehead was furrowed, and still, Loki thought you were the most beautiful creature in all the Nine Realms.

"Hi..." Loki barely whispered, his eyes were glossy and a single tear also ran down his pale cheek.

You were clearly in shock. You wanted to get closer and finally touch him, to feel him physically. But even if you wanted to move to take his hand to confirm it wasn't a trick of your ruined mind, your body was stiff and your feet were glued to the ground.

"Is this an illusion?" you trembled.

All Loki could do was shaking his head, before muttering. "No..."

"Loki, I saw you die..."

Tears ran down your face, denying to yourself that this was real. That this was really happening to you. And your mind started to wonder all the possible scenarios and reasons on why him, the god of mischief, the only person you loved dearly with all your mind, body and soul, was standing right in front of your door even if he was gone for you... Long gone now. And that couldn't be undone.

"I know you did, my love."

You tried to smile, even a little bit, as he pronounced those words so dearly. Loki came closer to your figure, carefully placing a trembling hand on your cheek, feeling the tears flowing on your skin. You leaned into his touch, with a simpering smile. Such was the effect you had on him, that a silly smile he also had on his lips.

And you realized Loki was so real... His touch, his heat, his smile, his scent, the way he would hold you... Everything about him was exactly as you remembered. You felt his lips brushing softly against yours, gentle and hesitant, and instantly, you melted into a slow kiss, sure knowing that Loki would taste the salt of your tears running down your face. Leaning in closer as the space between would allow you, you savoured each second your breaths allowed, longing to remain right there for eternity. For all time. Always.

"But now I am here... and I can explain," he whispered once you separated your lips from his in the sweetest way.

You let out a soft chuckle. "Mind to enlighten me, oh, god of mischief?"

Finally you guided him inside your apartment. That old apartment Loki saw his other self visiting a couple of times before you were something. It still had your vibe around it and he loved it. He felt like he was at home after a very long time. Once you closed the door, his arms wrapped around your figure, and you let yourself cry, pressing against his chest and with a tight grip of your hands on his coat.

"You don't have any idea of how much I have missed you all these years," you sobbed and his heart shrank on his chest. "I kept wishing every night and every day to be me instead of you."

"My love," he said softly, separating a little and cupping your cheeks with his warm hands. His eyes were red now because of the tears he was holding back again. "Don't say that... It was supposed to happen."

"What?" you mumbled.

Your hands found his wrists and you pulled his palms away from your cheeks. However you kept the contact with him, you just needed to touch him, to feel he was in the flesh. He was alive right now, wasn't he?

"Look, I am not your Loki. I know what you did, what the Avengers did after Thanos-" his voice broke just a bit but he continued. "I know everything. I just couldn't resist knowing there was someone for me, out there in the Nine Realms, capable to love me for who I am," Loki explained as he watched your face. Was it disappointment? Confusion? He didn't know, but he had to tell you the truth.

Your voice came out as a barely audible whisper. "So... you are saying... you're another Loki? Another him?"

He nodded softly. "I am." Loki thought for a moment on how to explain everything, but he just went for what his heart felt it was right. "It's a little complicated. I did something that wasn't supposed to be, and perhaps will sound like I'm insane, but thanks to that I am kind of trapped in time. With an organization that is not what everyone thought it was, hence a multiverse was created. Sponsored by another me, by the way. You are in what is called the Sacred Timeline, where things flow as how they were supposed to since forever. And I just needed to see you after I found out you were the love of my life."

You took a moment to understand everything he said, wishing that his fate would have been different from what originally happened. Loki gave his best, even in the last worst moments, he was changing for good. For you. For Thor... It wasn't fair.

"Your death was supposed to be then?"

"Yes, it was."

"Oh, Loki," you cried. "You know what, I don't care what's happened. I'm just- I feel happy seeing you here... Please tell me everything you've been through. I want to hear your voice again, to know you're with me right now, to feel you near... I'm not crazy, am I?" you chuckled between tears and Loki curved his lips in a smile, wiping your tears from your face with his thumbs.

Loki granted your wish and explained everything, answering every question you had about the lies of the TVA; the files he found out were his whole life; about Sylvie, Mobius and his variants. He spilled all you wanted to hear, asking like a child, until you understood what was happening. You noticed he truly had changed, just like your Loki did when he reunited with Thor before the Ragnarok took over Asgard. It was a bittersweet feeling however, thinking how much they they seemed to each other. They were the same person after all, but this Loki didn't had the chance to continue his path as it was supposed to.

Taking his hand into yours, you leaned towards him and laid down your head on his shoulder while you both sat comfortable in the couch, just enjoying each others company. Your eyes were dry at this point after crying for what it felt were hours, but his voice helped to soothe you enough.

"I'm glad knowing you have someone like Mobius by your side," you said after a quiet moment. "He sounds like a very good friend," you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Because that's what he is to you, right?"

"He is a great friend, I'm not alone if that is what is troubling you," Loki affirmed.

You let out a sigh. "That is totally a relief to me."

Loki chuckled softly, leaning to leave a kiss on your hair. "Now you've heard everything about me, would I hear something from you?"

"I'm just a mortal, Loki," you smiled. "Doing the normal shit, not the superhero stuff anymore. I am hating my pretty much normal office job every day; I feed the birds when I go outside at the park, also thinking about adopting a cat or a dog... Maybe a dog."

"Or you could do both."

"Yeah, I might. But my place isn't that big for pets. Sometimes I feel like I'm too alone, very much alone... I would love to have a big farm, or a cabin in the mountains with lots of plants, pets and animals to take care of." The idea did sound good for Loki. Hopefuly you could find peace that way. "Do you remember Pepper?" you said, straighting up on the couch to look at him. He nodded. "Well, after Tony died I still visit her and their daughter, Morgan. She is ten years old, could you believe it?" Loki noticed the sorrow and pain you still carried after all those years of losing your friends, your people... "And I've been missing you and mourning you for ten years as well."

"It's not your fault."

"I know, Loki."

"Do whatever is the best for you, my dear... I would have loved to be here with you now, as the Loki from the Sacred Timeline."

You smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Well, either way, you're here now. It's all that matters to me."

Once again, you shared a loving kiss and took his hand to walk to the kitchen, asking him to take a seat in your breakfast bar, glad he decided to search for you in one of your free days. Otherwise, you would have surely missed his visit. But he was looking for you. Probably Loki would have found you anywhere at this point.

You talked some more while you had some tea and ate some cookies that you saved for special days on the shelfs. The afternoon was pleasant, and this was your turn to speak. Loki, coat long gone, was catching up with you and he asked every single thing about your life now. He smiled more than ever, laughed more than you have ever seen, and it was certainly something you could get used to from now on. Knowing you never continued your life with another person made his heart ache though. However, Loki was no one to blame. He would have done the same thing. No other was like you, no one would have replaced you.

"It's my decision," you finally said, reading his face like an open book. "I have loved you, I love you now and I will love you forever."

He took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. "I know..."

"The day we married you gave me a ring. I always have it with me, today I'm not working, but I use this necklace with your ring," you searched for the necklace hiding inside your shirt and taking it off, you showed him the precious jewel hanging on a fine golden chain. The ring he recognized once was from his mother. "I want you to have it."

"No,I can't-"

"But this is what I want. I know I would have to forget, because you will make me forget about this. About you, coming here, risking everything just to see me. So please, take it."

Loki knew you had made a decision, but then if he left, taking your memories away about this day, what was left for you? He had nothing, and it was okay. He would still know he came to the Sacred Timeline; that he kissed you, that you shared a moment together, that you still loved him. But you will have none of that. And you, as human as you were, would die without the memories and without the ring. You would have nothing and he was sure couldn't bear it.

"Perhaps I can have something else to remember you, I want you to keep this ring as a promise," he closed your hand around the necklace. "My promise that I still love you and I will do it. Forever."

And you sighed, taking the necklace back with a smile. Always so stubborn. "Give me a moment."

Loki saw you leave the kitchen for some minutes. While he was alone, he noticed the sunset through the windows, as it was almost ending to welcome the dark sky around the city. He knew he had to go soon. As much as he didn't want to and the simple thought of runing away was starting to hurt him deep inside.

When you arrived, you stood by his seat on the breakfast bar, putting a small photograph, perfect for a passport, on the surface. It was all in black and white, and you looked what you thought it was nice. Loki took it between his hands, lovingly and with a proud smile on his face.

"I used that when I was taking my Master's degree. Looks pretty decent," you joked.

Loki laughed, tears right at the corner of his eyes. "It's more than that. It's perfect."

His smile faded, knowing this meant he had to leave you again. Loki wasn't supposed to have a happy ending, was he? How he wished to stay there by your side.

You kissed his cheek as a sort of goodbye and comfort at the same time, noticing the sudden change on his face and whispered softly. "So you don't search for me on those files."

"Thank you, love."

Loki got on his feet to put his coat on, like some sort of mental preparation before leaving your apartment and the Sacred Timeline. He saved your photograph on his pocket securely along with Mobius' TemPad, pretending to be strong and swallowing all the pain he was feeling right at that moment. You took his hand, lacing your fingers together one last time and walked until you stood there, in the middle of your living room. He looked at you with loving eyes, trying to save your face and your figure before returning to where he was supposed to be now. And it seemed like time had stopped, as everything Loki could see and feel was you and only you.

"I guess is time now," you began, interrupting his mind.

"I guess it is," Loki nodded, expecting an answer from you. Anything. But it never came. You were also trying to save the moment as much as you could.

So he cupped your cheeks, feeling for the last time your warm, soft skin against his palms. He didn't want to talk, because if he would have said something, it meant you were really saying goodbye forever. What Loki didn't know is that you felt the same thing.

Was there something good to say to your lover, whose destiny was just to bring the best from other people with his cruelty and chaos? To the man who had learn to make things better and, in the end, died trying to protect his people and his wife? Was there anything out there that would bring the god of mischief the happiness and love you always knew he deserved? With these branches and multiverse thing, you hoped deep in your heart there was a universe where he found what he longed for so long. This was just one of many of them. Probably he was happy and living in peace in some others.

"I love you, Loki," you mumbled. He caressed your skin with his thumbs and wiped the small tears that were running on your cheeks.

"I love you too."

Loki leaned to kiss you one last time. You welcomed the kiss with shut eyes, savouring his lips and the taste of your tears, mixing now with his own.

The pain started to bloom; every heartbeat felt like a sledgehammer pounding against his chest. He was not ready to let you go, so this was all he could do. The seidr flowed from his fingers, the green lights covering your body with the help of the spell he casted for you was made to protect you from anything that could get out of hand in the Sacred Timeline, particularly from his own hands, the hands of the TVA, or any other danger that could chase you. Because if something would happen to you due to his stubborn decision, Loki knew he wouldn't forgive himself. What he was sure about though, was that he would still look for you until the end of time.

So when the kiss ended, you fell asleep in seconds. He had to take your sleeping figure with his arms to your bedroom, where he carefully laid you down on the bed. Making sure you were comfortable in your sleep, fixing the pillows and the blankets, Loki remained there, just to take in the serenity emanating from you. It was something you had, the ease and calm your aura projected to everyone in the room. This was the last thing Loki wanted to save from you.

He kissed your forehead and dried the tears on your face before standing up. Once you were to wake up in some hours, you would not be able to know everything was real. Loki made sure you thought it was a dream. So that is what you would have in your head. Something you wished for so long that will only be nothing but thoughts, scenes and emotions that felt absolutely true. As real as life could be.

Loki took the TemPad and opened the timedoor to go back to the TVA, where he knew Mobius would be waiting already since he left for hours. Without looking back to your room, he stepped in and forced to compose himself just in case he would bump into someone else. He sighed, observing through the halls of the headquaters as he made his way back to the room that was assigned to him.

At his door, a worried Mobius was already waiting for him, walking in circles.

"God, Loki I thought you were gone for a second," the analyst breathed out. Loki just handed the TemPad and Mobius took it back. He noticed his weary demeanor and teary eyes. "Thank you. Sorry I doubted you for a second."

"It's fine," Loki shrugged it off, looking for something on his pocket. The photograph slipped from his fingers and fell down to the floor. Mobius was quick enough to pick it up for him, but as he gave it back to his owner he observed it thoroughly.

"So this was the personal thing you did," Mobius said, looking the photograph resting on Loki's hand. He remembered that face from his files.

"Yeah... I guess all set now," Loki sighed.

"Good, I hope you're ready for another trip to the Sacred Timeline." Mobius turned to walk away, deciding it was better to give him some time, but he turned back to Loki before doing so. "And if you're feeling like talking about this any day, only between us, just let me know."

And with that, he walked away. Loki smiled, standing alone outside his door.

You were right. Mobius was a good friend.

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #tva loki x reader #tva loki x female reader #tva!loki x reader #loki imagines #loki angst #loki laufesyon x reader #loki series fanfiction #loki season 2 #mcu loki x reader #mcu loki #loki series

[pinkaditty]

WHB Sitri Thirst

teehee guess who's back (at long last!!!!!)

summary: sitri needs to give you devil energy in Satan's absence. you are tired of him calling you Solomon. a/n: you would not BELIEVE how many days this took like what if i keeled over and died fr. ANYWAYS ANYWAYS part 3 of the pervert obey me thing is still in the works as well as a few other writing projects im working on. please be patient with me i swear i will deliver what the crowd wants!!!!!!!!!!!!

also any anons that have sent asks: I SEE THEM! I PROMISE! I WILL RESPOND!

cw: cardiophilia, smut, creampie, begging, sub!sitri, dom!reader, gn!reader (none of the reader's physical attributes are mentioned with a specific description), some fang action, mentions of blood, NOT PROOFREAD, and i think that's all! let me know if i missed anything in the comments, please!

Word count: ~3k

ONCE AGAIN AS USUAL MINORS DNI! I DO NOT WANT YOU INTERACTING WITH MY CONTENT THANKS!

By the time you'd returned to your lodging, Sitri was riddled with want and desire. Your face betrayed nothing, but you knew he could hear your heartbeat, beating a million times per minute as you attempted to unlock the door. The temptation to slow your pace to tease him was hard to resist, but you knew it would be useless when your heart gave away your every thought. Sitri is not a demon of many words, but you can hear his silent urging in his heavy breathing and twitching fingers against the leather of his harness. 

Thump, thump, thump.

You can feel your heart beating in your neck as you carefully turn the knob to the door, pushing it open and stepping inside, holding it open for Sitri to follow. He wastes no time in stepping through the threshold, the click of his heels stopping short before he turns to watch you as you close the door. You take your time doing it, the thumping of your heart harmonizing with the creak of the door. Sitri only watches, but you can feel his gaze boring into the back of your neck as you prolong the creaking of the door until it finally reaches the end. You shut the door in tune with your heartbeat. Thump.

The newfound silence of the room is almost deafening. You only realize how dark it is when you notice nothing but moonlight pouring across your skin. It is cool and glowing, illuminating the room in white light. You turn to look at Sitri, and the moment your eyes meet his, he approaches you. His light blue hair flows as he moves, shining white in the light. His skin is ever so pale, only dotted by a blue pentagram on his neck and the soft pink of his lips, pointed downwards in a soft pout. His eyes shine with what you can only assume is lust. He reaches for you, sharp blue nails curling into your clothing and holding you in place before he swiftly buries his face in your chest, listening intently to your heartbeat.

Thump, thump, thump.

He presses his ear to your chest and sighs comfortably, gripping your body like a lifeline.

Thump, thump, thump.

"Solomon…" He whispers quietly into your chest, relaxing against you. "How I missed this sound." His lips brush lightly against your chest as he speaks, making you shiver. 

You part your lips to correct him, remind him that you're not Solomon, but you don't bother after observing how peaceful he seemed, pressed against your chest. Despite him being so close, you could tell he was still antsy, his fingers tightening and loosening their grip on you, his thighs squeezing together and releasing, his breathing still heavy on your chest… 

Careful to avoid his horn, you gather some of his hair and tug on it twice, gently pulling him away. He hesitantly, and rather reluctantly, moves away from your chest, his lips still in a soft pout. He looks at you questioningly, and you simply shake your head. "Come on, let's get comfortable at least." You tug him along to your bed, sitting on it, and motioning for him to sit next to you. Instead of doing that, however, he situates himself on your lap, facing you. He curls his arms around your waist and once again presses his ear to your chest, as though desperate to hear your heart again. He pulled you closer with his arms and pressed into you further with his ear, so much so that you ended up on your back with him pressed against you at every inch, listening to your heartbeat.

Thump, thump, thump.

You hear him whispering Solomon's name multiple times, like a prayer, savoring the way it sounded on his tongue. You were not Solomon. But you could tolerate it… for now.

He just couldn't seem to get enough. He continued to press his ear into your chest, as though he needed to hear every single contraction, like he needed to hear the blood as it rushed to and from your heart. He started breathing heavier, his face turning red as he did. He began to press his body against yours a little rougher, breathy whines coming from his lips as he did. 

"Solomon, Solomon, Solomon…"

He begins to nuzzle his face into your chest, needing to feel more, more, and more. You hear him click his teeth in annoyance at your shirt, and he rather brazenly tears it away, as well as anything underneath, with his sharp nails. He tosses the ripped clothing to the side, ignoring your shocked noise, and presses his lips to your chest, right where your heart would be. He pulls away, his heavy breathing turning to panting, and he continues pressing kisses to your chest. You sigh in pleasure and let him continue, not that stopping him would result in anything fruitful.

The kisses become more and more desperate, and eventually, his lips make room for his tongue and teeth, licking and scraping his fangs against your chest. Occasionally he pauses, panting out of sheer excitement, and presses his ear against your chest again to listen to your rapid heartbeat. Each time he does, you feel him shift his hips and squeeze his thighs together, a shudder running down his spine. His hands grip anything within reach - your waist, your chest, your shoulders, your hair, the sheets - his hands rotate indiscriminately like he can’t decide what should ground him. You reach around him and tug on his hair, taming him. He hums into your chest and pulls back, lips swollen slightly from working at your chest, and eyes teary from stimulation. His face is bright red, barely visible in the pale moonlight. His chest heaves from his panting. You behold this sight for a while, gazing at him.

“I’ll need more than this to receive your devil energy, Sitri.” You gently remind him of the purpose of this endeavor, and his blush deepens. You reach out to cradle his cheek in your palm, and he leans into it, pressing his fingers against your wrist to feel your pulse. 

“I apologize, Solomon. I… I’ll make you feel good.” The words drip from his lips like saliva, thick and heavy with meaning, hunger laced in every syllable. He licks from your wrist to your palm, as though he could taste your pulse, before releasing your wrist and shifting his focus to your lower body. He grabs the hem of your clothing and gently tugs it away, removing your intimates as well. He seems to savor the way more of your skin is revealed, more skin through which blood flows, all for him to hear through a pulse. 

He moves further away to allow him access to you, kneeling just off of the bed and facing your core directly. He leans his head against your right thigh, pressing his ear to it to listen for a pulse, holding your left thigh away from his horn. You can tell immediately when he finds your pulse, as his grip on you tightens quickly, and he sighs in satisfaction. He starts almost immediately, licking a long stroke from the bottom to the top. You stiffen, trembling. You carefully prop yourself up on your elbows as he continues, sighing in pleasure. He maneuvers his tongue in long, careful strokes, exploring you as he pressed your thigh closer to his ear. All he needed was your heartbeat to know how well he was doing.

Thump, thump, thump.

You roll your hips against Sitri, reaching down for him and gripping his hair, encouraging him. He whimpers when you pull his hair, and you feel him shudder against your thigh. He peers up at you as he continues, his long tongue strokes turning into shorter, more focused ones at more sensitive points. He swirls his tongue in small circular strokes and the steady pattern of stimulation makes you see stars. You tugged harder on his hair, pulling him in closer to you, and he follows, malleable to your touch. It wasn’t much longer until you reached your peak, gripping his hair like a vice and trembling, pleased moans falling from your lips. He grips your thighs harder as you ride out the last of it, thumbs pressing painfully hard into the skin of them, feeling the blood pulse through your veins under his fingers. When you release his hair, he finally pulls away, his lips dripping with the remnants of your release. His hair is mussed, his skin is flushed red, his pupils are blown wide, and his lips are swollen and pink. He is beautiful.

His thumbs are still pressed painfully hard into your thighs and his ear is still pressed against your skin. He’s the picture of ecstasy, enjoying each and every thump of your heart, savoring the sound as though it’s the last he’ll hear of it. 

“Solomon…” He pants, licking his lips to clear them of your release. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he shivers again, and you watch as he bites his lip from the sheer thrill of listening to your heartbeat. “Thank you… Thank you for letting me indulge…” He pants between his words, rubbing his cheek against your thigh, still listening to your heartbeat. 

You decide you have had enough.

You sit up a bit more, adjusting your posture, and he watches you with adoring, lustful eyes. You roughly grab the front of his shirt, slightly damp with saliva, and pull him towards you. He obediently follows, watching with wide eyes as you lead him over you, pressing his knees into the bed. You take this opportunity to hook your legs behind his knees and flip him over on his back, pressed into the bed as you hover over him.

“I am not Solomon.” You stare down at him, adoring his shocked expression and red cheeks. You reach low for his pants, pressing a palm into his strained erection, gently pulling at his pants button before it pops open, revealing his zipper.

He squirms from your movements, excitement lighting up every nerve of his body. He looks away from you nervously, mumbling an apology. His words are breathless and desperate. “I apologize, Descendant of-”

“No.” You interrupt him quickly, reaching for his jaw and holding it in place. He stops talking purely out of shock, his lips snapping shut. He watches you with wide eyes, breathing heavily. “I do not care about being his descendant. I only want you to say my name. Say my name. It is me you are in bed with, not Solomon.”

He exhales, whimpering slightly. “Yes, yes… MC. MC.” He pants out your name, pupils blown wide with lust once again. “Please… please let me indulge myself, MC.” He begins to beg, squirming more. You knew perfectly well he could hear your heartbeat from where he was, but perhaps it was not enough. Ignoring his pleas, you instead reach down for his zipper, this time pulling it down agonizingly slowly. You watch as he twitches beneath you, his eyes rolling again in ecstasy, waiting for his dick to be free. He starts panting impatiently as you finally unzip them all the way. He whines, his fingers curling into the sheets. “Please… please please please, let me indulge myself. Please, MC.” He begs more, blinking away pitiful tears as you hook your fingers over the band of his boxers, pulling them down. He whimpers more, and you finally indulge him, moving your other hand closer to his head, turning so that your wrist was right against his ear. He sighs happily, and presses his ear to your wrist, sighing again when you finally free his length. He gently rolls his hips upwards, not high enough to touch you, but enough to send a message. He pleads with his eyes, wide and wanting for you. He awaits your movement, biting his lip and curling a hand around your wrist to feel for your pulse again.

Thump, thump, thump.

You simply smile at him as he pleads, and position yourself above him, at last. He visibly gulps, his eyes flickering from your core to your face. Various pleas and whines and broken phrases fall from his lips as you gently position his erection to align with you, and you begin to slowly lower yourself to where his tip meets your entrance. He starts to squirm, the pleas getting more and more insistent. You make direct eye contact with him and hold his gaze and you lower yourself onto him entirely, taking his length in full. He moans pitifully, never breaking eye contact. You bite your lip, gripping his side with one hand to steel yourself. You breathe deeply to calm yourself, still holding Sitri’s gaze. 

“Are you ready for me to start moving?” You ask, smiling and biting your lip.

He nods vigorously, too impatient to wait any longer. “Yes, yes!”

You waste no time in going slow. The want that burns within the two of you is far too great for that. Using your knees as leverage, you begin to move, lifting yourself off of him and immediately lowering back down to take him in. The sound of skin slapping on skin and the bed creaking begin to fill the room. Sitri rolls his eyes back and moves his hips to thrust upwards into you, though he can barely keep it up as the pleasure gets to his head. He keeps whimpering and moaning, writhing in pleasure and pressing his fingers to your wrists, savoring the feeling of your pulse. His light blue hair is spread out below him, his bangs sticking to his forehead. His eyes are wide and unfocused, switching between rolling back, staring at yours, or looking at your chest, listening to your thumping heart. His lips are parted and red, breathing heavily. 

You can feel him filling you up to the brim, his tip barely kissing a sweet spot deep within you as you continued riding him. You were panting, using up all your energy but unable to stop, purely from how good it felt. You suppressed your moans by biting your lip, but they would escape, betraying how quickly you were falling apart form the pleasure. Every time he managed to thrust upwards, he’d hit the sweet spot directly, and you would curl your back, moaning loudly. The pleasure began to build up within you, and you knew the same was true of him. 

You paused your quick movements to instead grind yourself on him, savoring the feeling of him inside and giving your legs a break. Sitri whines and curls his face towards your wrist, gently dragging his tongue across the spot where your pulse was strongest. He presses his lips to your pulse as you continue to grind, muffling his whines and savoring the feeling of your pulse on his lips. 

When you finally recover, you lift yourself up again, slowly dragging your walls across the entirety of his length. He pulls away from your wrist and moans, tightening his grip on your wrists and looking up at you pitifully. You lower yourself again, speeding up this time, and he sighs with pleasure, relishing the feeling of you riding him. The break was not enough, however, and you can still feel the pleasure building up. You speed up your movements, not bothering to hide your moans any longer. He simply writhes underneath you, his eyes rolling and his tongue lolling out of his mouth, tightening and releasing his grip on your wrists. He couldn’t ground himself anymore. 

You reach for his horn at last and grab it roughly, pulling his head towards your chest. He yelps in surprise, but that very quickly melts into a loud moan, muffled into your chest. He turns his head to press his ear to your chest, and wraps his arms around your back, listening for your heartbeat once more. 

Thump, thump, thump. 

You stroke his horn as you continue to ride him, and he’s practically yelling at this point, his moans so loud you were sure they could be heard down the hall. Your riding pattern becomes erratic as you reach your peak, and you can feel he is, too, as he desperately attempts to thrust upwards and scrapes his nails into your back, moans barely muffled by your chest. 

“MC… MC!” He calls your name and babbles pleas and broken words incoherently before you feel him thrust roughly upwards and still against you. His nails dig into your back and his ear presses harder against your chest than before. You feel him release inside you, warm and sedating. A similar liquid melts across your fingers from his horn, and it drips onto the bed. You are in a similar state, having reached your peak as well. You stiffen as you feel his release within you, panting and moaning, clenching your thighs together as tight as you could. 

He shivers against you before he collapses, releasing his grip on you and falling back onto the bed. His eyes are rolled far back into his skull, his lips parted wide and panting, and his cheeks are flushed a beautiful red. You relax and lean over him, not wanting to lift yourself off of him just yet. He whimpers softly at the feeling of still being inside you, twitching slightly. You press a gentle kiss to his lips, which he excitedly reciprocates, reaching weakly to cradle your chin in his hands. As the kiss deepens and becomes sloppy, your tongues searching each other’s mouths, he lazily wraps his arms around your neck, gently pulling you closer. You relax your body against him entirely, pressing your chest to his. Your heartbeats sync, slowing as you both come down from your highs. 

You break the kiss, licking your lips, and you look down at him. He looks up at you with hooded, satisfied eyes. His lips are parted, and his panting is slowly slowing down. 

“What’s my name?” You ask him, leaning towards him and pressing your forehead to his.

“MC.” He answers, smiling as he does. He curls his arms around you tighter, pulling you closer again and pressing your noses together.

Thump, thump, thump.

“You are not Solomon after all.”

------------------------------------------

a/n: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE SITRIIIIIIIIIII!! i admit i don't think this was my best writing ever but i hope it's good, genuinely, because i spent lots of time on it. reminder that i really appreciate likes, reblogs, comments, and asks!! please let me know what you all think!!

this was self-indulgent but also a gift for @jessamine-rose !!!!

#minors dni #whb satan #what in hell is bad #whb sitri #whb mc #whb sitri x reader #sitri #what in hell is bad game #what in hell is bad satan #what in hell is bad sitri #what in hell is bad x reader #whb #what in hell is bad smut #whb smut #sitri x reader #what in “hell” is bad? #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad? #whb sitri x mc

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sukuna coming for Megumi's sister at Shibuya but Yuji fights back pt. 4

Part l: here Part ll: here Part lll: here

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader; Yuji x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,6k

Synopsis: Sukuna enjoys every second with you by his side. But when Yuji slowly but surely begins to fight back, Sukuna has to act quickly. A sweet innocent kiss before he has to go, before Yuji Itadori gains back his body...

Warnings: this broke me into a million tiny pieces, listened to david kushner's daylight while writing this do not recommend , so much hurt and angst, slight comfort in the end if you're a sucker for my boy Yuji, still enough spice for all Sukuna lovers out there, read at own risk

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @wifenanami

Your eyes are widen in pure horror, letting Sukuna drag you behind him without resistance. You feel so numb, completely shattered from the inside. All the things you saw today, all the things that he did.

Sukuna.

You stare at the back of his head while he hums in satisfaction, casually stepping over corpses, blood and debris. That man, that one man army who holds your hand with the fingers of the boy you love more than anything else. Silent tears escape your eyes. None of this should have happened, Sukuna should have never been able to take control of Yuji.

But oh he did. And it seems like nothing is able to stop him.

“Huh, why are you crying now? I thought you enjoyed the show. Just wait until we arrive where I take you.”

Get a hold of yourself, don’t show him your weakness. But damn, you are so fucking exhausted from all the disaster you’ve witnessed today. No, you can’t take it anymore.

“Let go of me”, you hiss through gritted teeth, ripping your arm away from him just in time before he’s able to touch you again.

“Why so mad? Aren’t you at least a little thankful that I saved your puny life countless times, that I spared your little friends?” he questions, eyes staring at you so intensely that you want to break down in front of him.

“I would rather die than being your puppet”, you bite back.

“Just like your brother?”

His words. His cursed words make no sense in your head, wide eyes staring at him emotionless. What the hell is he talking about? What has all of this to do with your brother?

“Maybe you should turn around, (y/n).”

All colour drains from your face, it feels as if the ground underneath your feet gets pulled away. You want to puke, eyes laying on your beloved brother.

His numb body leaned against a wall.

A wall that’s covered in blood.

Just like him.

“Megumi.”

You don’t know how you do it. Like in trance, your feet carry you towards his body, knees collapsing onto the wet ground next to him.

“Megumi!” you cry out, your desperate voice echoing through the buildings around.

Fuck. This is so much blood. His head, his limbs, his chest. You swallow hard, urgently trying to stop yourself from puking all over him. Pictures flood your mind. Pictures of him giving you a clap on the back of your head, him holding you in his arms when you woke up from a nightmare, him helping you out with your homework. Your lip trembles, whole body shaking in nothing but thick fear.

“You can’t die here, you simply can’t”, you breathe out.

“He won’t. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that.”

Sukuna positions himself in front of you.

What?

You hold your breath, eyes scanning that enormous creature standing in front of Sukuna and you. What the hell is that? Is it responsible for Megumi’s injuries?

“If this thing dies, your brother will live. What do you think, (y/n)? Sounds fair?”

“Just do it, Sukuna”, you bark at him.

“Only if you kiss me.”

You can’t believe your ears, shivers running down your spine so violently that it’s hard to keep your composure.

“Are you fucking serious? My brother is on the brink of death and all you care about is…a kiss?”

That voice of yours, it sounds so dangerous that Sukuna can’t help but smirk. The worn out look on your lovely face, the tears of despair glistening in your doe eyes. Oh, this is absolutely perfect, this is just what he wanted. You went from being a sweet innocent girl to a complete mess, even using language despite you never did that. How cute, how pathetic. Sukuna will break you along with that other brat, that’s for sure.

“You should know by now that there’s no service without anything in return. I have plenty of time, think about your priorities, sweet (y/n)-“

“Is all of this just a game to you?” you yell into his face.

With a swift motion you are back on your feet, standing up against him in a way you never did before. Your furious eyes lock with his, time seems to stand still.

“Partially, yes”, he remarks dryly, hand wrapping itself around your waist before you are even able to react.

“But you’re the price.”

You snort, shaking your head in disbelief. This can’t be real, it has to be a cruel joke. His red eyes are fixated on you, almost swallowing you whole. Does he really want you to…kiss him? God, you hate the way your desperate heart screams in agony, how your head wants to tell you that those are in fact Yuji’s lips.

No. The man standing in front of you is far away from being Yuji.

“Time’s ticking, lovely (y/n).”

For a brief moment, you close your eyes. Maybe, just maybe you can pretend that it’s him for a split second. Yuji would understand, right? Yuji, who always brought your favourite candy with him. Yuji, who always stayed with you in bed until you fell asleep. Yuji, who promised you to love you till the very end. He would get that you have to do this in order to save Megumi, he would maybe even encourage you.

Fuck it.

You let your lips sink against his, feeling how he draws you even closer to his body. Oh, how bittersweet this kiss feels, how much you missed the softness of Yuji’s lips pressed against yours. But the harshness in which he digs his fingers into your tender flesh, how he deepens the kiss without hesitation tells you that this isn’t the boy you love.

“Enough”, you press out before ripping away.

Tame your pounding heart and sharp breathing, focus on your mission. This isn’t about what feels good or bad, this is about saving your brother’s goddamn life.

“Your body betrays you, my dear”, he purrs, aiming to cup your cheek with his hand.

You yank away from him, dumping down next to your brother again.

“Do what you’ve promised, Sukuna”, you hiss.

“Wait.”

You want to scream into his face, want to slap him as hard as you can. But before you’re even able to raise your voice, a sharp pain runs through your guts and turns your world upside down. What? How?

Slowly, your eyes look down at your body. A piercing hole in your stomach, a hole that Sukuna himself must have inflicted on you within the split of a second.

“Just to make sure you’re not running away until I’m back, you know?”

And with that, he’s gone. Leaving you with a gaping hole in your body, breaking down next to your unconscious brother.

What made you stupid enough to think that Sukuna wouldn’t kill you, that you hold any value to him? How reckless it was to even think about this. But even worse, you made a contract with the king of curses himself. Suits you right, pooling in your very own blood, head resting on your brother’s chest.

He’s still breathing, heart beating barely against his ribs. Good. Maybe Sukuna will at least keep up with his words. Maybe…You let your breath out, pain radiating through your whole body.

Maybe Megumi and Yuji will get out of this mess.

You stare at your blood-covered hand, pressing against your stomach in a poor attempt to stop the bleeding. Did he hit something important? You can’t tell, maybe you’d be dead if that’s the chase.

Why are you just laying here, then? Why are you resting your head when countless people around you lose their lives? It is your job to get up on your trembling feet, to lift yourself out of your blood, to stay strong. If not for yourself, then for your brother and Yuji. They deserve it that you at least try, that you go after Sukuna.

“I’ve got this from here on, ‘Gumi.”

Everything hurts, every little step you take feels like a knife piercing through your tight muscles. But you just keep going, hissing through the pain, eyes focused towards the chaos that lays itself out in front of you.

Keep going, push forwards, just a little more, just a little closer.

“Don’t. Give. Up”, you mutter to yourself, holding your stomach as you limp forward.

“You here?”

His vibrant voice sends shivers down your spine, the instinct to run away almost taking over.

“You’ve made a promise, Sukuna”, you press out, eyes darting around the destroyed area in order to catch a glimpse of him.

“Are you not trusting me, dear (y/n)? I’m already on my way to bring Megumi Fushiguro to your people. That woman wearing the white coat, she uses the reversed technique, right?”

Your heart drops to the floor, just the thought of him visiting Shoko…

“Stay. Away. From. Her.”

You turn around so fast that your head begins to spin, already shaky legs giving in.

“Careful, watch your step.”

The bloodlust written on his face, the way his red eyes are widen in nothing but amusement while holding you in his arms. This man…he really is the king of curses, no one to mess with. How reckless to think you could tame him.

“I thought you’d keep up longer, maybe long enough for him to see you. Well, this will be an exciting race against time. Give me a second.”

He places you on the floor, leaving you in the ruins of what once was Shibuya city. One person. Only this one person was all it takes for these buildings to go down, the sheer power of Ryomen Sukuna was enough to tear everything down to the ground.

Your eyes grow heavier and heavier. You’re so damn tired. Tired of trying to save the world, tired of losing countless lives in front of your own eyes, tired of being so useless.

Tired of this hopeless battle. Who is going to save you without Gojo, without Megumi, without Yuji? You stretch your heavy hand out to the sky, the only light being the moon that shines upon you.

“Lovely”, you hush to yourself, thinking about the countless nights you stared up in the sky with Yuji by your side.

Oh, how much you wished it wouldn’t end like this, how hard you fought for a better ending. But as it seems, not every love story deserves a happy one. Some seem to be cursed to infinity.

“Are you dead yet?”

“Maybe wish I was”, you remark so huffed that Sukuna almost doesn’t get it.

“You made it, (y/n). Your brother is receiving medical care at this very moment, I killed that monster and that other fucker for you and oh, that special curse is gone as well. Aren’t you happy? You kept me going, I kept my promise.”

He kneels down next to you, eyes roaming around your blood-soaked uniform. Never did he expect it would bug him this much to let you go again.

“What a waste to let you run into his open arms again. But don’t cry too much, we’ll meet again very soon.”

His hand caresses your cheek gently, smiling at you one last time before standing up and stretching himself.

“Hey brat, be sure so savor this.”

Your veiled gaze drifts to his hands. Hands that slowly begin to tremble, hands that form into fists. Is it really possible, could it really be?

“Yuji?”

He falls to the ground next to you. Sobs, cries, screams escaping his trembling lips.

“Die!”

He digs his nails into the ground so harshly that blood spills.

“Only me!”

“Yuji…”

“How could you take her from me?”

Your body screams at you to rest your eyes, begs you to stop moving. But despite every fiber of your being fights against it, you crawl closer to him, bloody hand coming to rest on his.

“Yuji…”

 And then his eyes dart towards your puny figure.

His lovely brown eyes. The eyes of the boy you love, the eyes that laughed at you countless times before. Filled with tears, filled to the brim with pure horror when the memories of Sukuna slowly start to flood his mind. In his memory, the last thing he witnessed was you getting stabbed in your guts by Sukuna, barely alive body resting against Megumi’s chest.

But this is you. This is…

You.

“(y/n).”

You can’t stop the swell of tears that overflows your heavy orbs, a silent scream of relief leaving your lips. He’s back. The love of your life is back.

For brief moments, for very few seconds, you thought he might never return, that Sukuna took over his body. But those eyes, those oh so gorgeous eyes that look at you with so much grief and agony chiselled into them, they belong exclusively to him.

“Thank god. Thank god you’re still here. I thought I lost you.”

His bloody hands lift your upper body off the ground, pressing you against his chest like the greatest treasure he ever found, keeping you safe and sound while all you can do is cry your whole heart out against the warmth of his body.

“I’m so sorry”, you breathe out.

“I’m so sorry for betraying you, I’m sorry making a contract with him, I’m sorry for kiss-“

“You can’t imagine how proud I am. You did so well, (y/n). I’m so glad you are alive.”

He presses a kiss against your forehead. Just like he does every morning before you wake up, like he does every time you go to sleep. But this time it’s different. From all the kisses you shared until this fateful day, this is the one you longed for the most.

“Let’s get you to Shoko…You need to get fixed…”

Yuji lifts your body off the ground, holding your aching frame securely against his own while walking down the streets of Shibuya with horror in his eyes.

“Stay with me, don’t go out there again. Please, I can’t afford to lose you again, I can’t live with this thought.”

“That’s not possible, (y/n). I have to go. I have to fight. Otherwise, I’ll just be a murderer. But you did enough, you acted so selfless and brave today. I couldn’t be more grateful for having such a wonderful girl by my side.”

“Yuji…”, you breathe out, tears swelling up your eyes all over.

He stops in his tracks, watery eyes staring down at you. Those eyes that saw everything Sukuna did, the countless lives he took tonight, the things he did to you with his very own hands. No, before earning the privilege to let himself fall into your arms, he has to end this fight. Without thinking twice, he presses his lips against yours longingly. You feel as good as ever, sending shivers down his spine by the way you moan so innocently against his mouth. God, how much he loves you. And how much he hates himself for letting Sukuna take advantage of you.

“I’ll make it all up to you, I swear. Rest for now, (y/n). Look after Megumi. I will return as soon as I can.”

You cling onto him for dear life, weak arms refusing to let the love of your life go all over again. You just got him back, out of the tight grip of Sukuna’s powers.

“Promise me something”, you urge.

“(y/n), Yuji, is that you?” you hear Megumi’s voice shout from afar.

“Anything, love”, Yuji replies.

“Come back to me. Promise that you’ll come back to me.”

Another long kiss on your forehead before he lets you down gently, holding you tight against his chest.

“I will never let you go again, (y/n). I promise”, he whispers against your ear.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk hurt/comfort #jjk hurt #jjk shibuya arc #shibuya #shibuya incident #jjk season 2 #jjk season two #itadori yuji #yuji itadori #yujin #itadori #megumi #yuji x reader #itadori x reader #yuji my beloved #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi

[mawofthemagnetar]

TFC’s Completely Normal Afternoon Where Nothing Goes Wrong And Nobody Dies Horribly

(shoutout to @lindentree for inspiring this silly fic!)

TFC sat in his little bachelor pad, coffee in hand, watching the steam rise out of his mug. 

It was a nice mug, all things considered. A gift from the other Hermits. A handmade blue thing, turned on a potter’s wheel, with an extra-large handle to give his old hands a break sometimes. Full of coffee from his ancient coffee machine, that gurgled and growled like a jackhammer being waterboarded.

TFC took a sip, and winced. Okay, so maybe it was time to leave the mine and get more coffee. He’d re-used the grounds for the fourth time, and now it was really starting to get properly bitter. 

He drummed his fingers on his glass-top table, listening to the echo against the cold stone walls of his little antechamber. Maybe he’d decorate the walls at some point soon. 

TFC shrugged, and opened his comm. Hopefully one of the other Hermits had some coffee beans. He wiped the stone dust off his screen, and held down the three buttons to switch it on. Yes, he kept his comm strapped to his arm like almost every other player with some semblance of sense. No, he refused to let the damn thing be awake for any longer than it needed to be. The Hermits were chatty folks, and when TFC was deep in his mines and deep in thought, the last thing he needed interrupting his musings was a million buzzing noises as Cleo and Jevin got into a slapfight in the general chat. 

TFC’s personal logo flashed across the screen (the three letters of his name in red, natch) and he took another slurp of his bitter coffee, wrinkling his nose. The comm beeped, and TFC opened the group chat and tapped out a quick message. 

<Tinfoilchef> anyone got any more coffee? I’m clean out. 

He put his comm down, and took another swig. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

TFC frowned. He was a patient man by nature. The same could not be said of the other Hermits, who were usually falling over themselves to help each other out. 

And he hadn’t gotten a reply yet. 

It had been a whole ninety seconds.

TFC scrolled up in chat, and he sighed, rubbing his face. He sank back in his chair in annoyance. 

Of course. 

He tabbed upwards, watching things spiral out of control… in reverse. 

<Renthedog was blanched to death> 

<Renthedog> THE PAIN! THE PAIN IS INDESCRIBABLE

<Vintagebeef was portaged to death> 

<Vintagebeef> RUN! THE BOATS! THE BOATS ARE COMING!

TFC rubbed his temples with his free hand, sighing in exasperation. ‘

“Guys, I dug up five stacks of diamonds, don’t make me do this…I don’t want to re-dig those tunnels…” TFC groaned. 

And of course the nonsense kept coming as he scrolled farther and farther back. Gee, that last message from Ren was about four hours ago, now...

<Iskall85 became part of the weft> 

<Iskall85> HELP GOD THE LOOM’S GROWN LEGS

“Does anyone on this server besides me even know HOW to weave?!” TFC growled, averting his gaze from his pile of unfinished weaving in the corner of the room. It didn’t exist. He couldn’t see it. His WIP’s couldn’t hurt him.

And on and on it went.

<Xisumavoid was hooked to death>

<Grian was torqued to death>

<Tango was unraveled to death> 

<Zombiecleo was racqueted to death>

“Right, I’ve seen enough.” TFC sighed, “On the bright side, at least I’ll have all the coffee I had a week ago, so there’s that…” 

He carefully tabbed through his various screens and menus until he arrived at the one bit of his comm that was set aside for admin functions. Now, TFC wasn’t a server admin. That much was true. But he had slight admin privileges, for one thing and one thing only: server rollbacks. 

While, say, Hypno would have had an extensive wall of options, showing his permissions and all sorts of bells and whistles, TFC’s admin console had a text box to input a date and a big red “GO” button. 

He looked mournfully at his ender chest, and, with a sigh, keyed in a date one week prior. 

And TFC jabbed his thumb on the big red button. 

The world flashed white, utterly blinding him, and a second later TFC was deep in the branch mine in a half-finished tunnel, the same spot he’d been exactly a week prior. 

Unfortunately, he was still in a comfortable sitting position, resting all his weight on a chair that suddenly wasn’t there, so he immediately toppled to the ground, landing on his ass in an undignified heap. 

“Ow.” TFC muttered, sitting up slowly and tapping through his messages. 

<Xisuma> oh, we rolled back. Is everyone alright!?

<Tango> Mumbo you are BANNED FROM TIME TRAVEL

<MumboJumbo> It wasn’t me this time! I mean it was. But blame Zedaph! 

<Zedaph> ME?! No! Blame Cub! Cub gave me the doodad! 

TFC rolled his eyes and typed out a message. 

<Tinfoilchef> Does anyone have any fresh coffee beans?

Silence. 

No messages. No new complaining. As all the hermits re-read TFC’s words and soaked them in. 

Finally, Cleo broke the silence. 

<Zombiecleo> TFC. How many times did you re-use your last filter of grounds. 

<TinfoilChef> eh, six? Seven?

<Zombiecleo> are you telling me we’d all still be in shuttlecock hell if you hadn’t gotten sick of the taste of reused coffee grinds?!

<TinfoilChef> Pretty much, yeah 

<TinfoilChef> anyway 

<TinfoilChef> does anyone have some fresh coffee? 

#magnetar writes #Hermitcraft fic #TFC fic

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐍𝐨 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

rick sanchez x reader

anon request: please i can request literally anything with rick sanchez acting jealous. Thanks and if you don't accept requests just ignore this tags: sexually suggestive, possessive & obsessive rick, daddy kink notes: minors dni wc: 2.2k

Rick doesn’t get attached.

He is Rick Sanchez. The smartest man, scratch that, creature alive. He isn’t a mere human, he is a God. Whatever Rick wants, he gets. He invented interdimensional travel. He fucked a planet.

Rick doesn’t get attached.

He knows that everything and everyone is replaceable. If someone dies he can just switch universes. Does he lose something? Same thing. Nothing is unique. There are millions of versions of everything. 

Rick doesn’t get attached.

That’s why when you confessed your feelings in a drunken haze Rick yelled at you. Rick thought you were at least smarter than Morty. You should have known that Rick doesn’t do feelings. That you’re nothing special. That you’re just a quick fuck when his cock gets hard and needs some easy pussy wrapped around it.

Rick doesn’t get attached.

He didn’t understand why he felt pressure in his heart when you started crying, endless tears streaming down your cheeks as you apologized after he rejected your feelings. He didn’t understand why he suddenly felt the need to reach his arms out and pull you into a tight embrace. Instead he insulted you as a whiny dumb bitch before disappearing through a green portal.

Rick doesn’t get attached.

So why was he fuming with rage as he saw you cuddled up on the couch with some other man weeks after he told you to fuck off?

A relentless fire, burning away any semblance of rational thought consumed Rick. His eyes smoldered with suspicion at the slightest hint of the man's attention toward you. Rick’s gestures became tense and guarded, his clenched fists betraying the turmoil within. Every smile directed at you from that dude sent a surge of insecurity coursing through Rick’s veins, twisting his features into a mask of possessiveness. Each innocent interaction fueled his rage until it consumed him entirely.

“Wh–Who the fuck is that–that lame fratboy on my couch?!”, Rick didn’t even bother to step closer, his voice dripping with anger. Your eyes shot wide open as you saw the tall scientists near the door. After your confession you avoided him as best as you could – after all you did live with the Smith family ever since your parents (their old neighbors) abandoned you. You never joined an adventure again. You never went into his garage to simply chat with him. You didn’t even ask if you could smoke space-weed. Nothing. That pissed Rick off even more because he caught himself missing you one time too many.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I’m Michael”, Michael was a polite, handsome young man, who attended the same college you did. Smiling, he reached his hand out towards Rick to shake his hand, “Are you y/n’s grandfather?”

If looks could kill every version of Michael would be dead by now. “You’re fuck–fucking stupid.” Rick would’ve loved to just kill that boy or at least cut off Michael’s hand, which was dangerously close to your thigh. You two were way too close for Rick in general. “y/n, who is that? Your new–new lover, huh? You little– Spreading your legs a–already?”

Rick knew he was overstepping it. He should have never said that but he couldn’t help it. You didn’t talk to him for weeks after you said that you love him with all your heart and now you’re with some lame, boring dumbass? Is that what undying love looks like? 

“…You’re a fucking asshole, Rick”, Rick could hear you holding back your tears, the way your eyes started to water, your cheeks painted red. He hurt you – again. Meanwhile Michael had already stood up and made his way over to Rick.

„Listen to m–„ Michael didn‘t stand a chance, Rick immediately interrupted him. 

„Li–Listen to me, shitface. I know– You fratboys are all the fucking–fucking same. You wanna tell me y–you‘re serious about y/n?“, he stepped closer, „You– Could you give her your phone and promise–promise she wouldn‘t find nudes or chats from other pussies?“

Absolute silence. This was all it took for Rick to confirm his suspicions. „Now you‘re si–silent? Jesus. How predictable. Jesus fucking christ. You think just because you’re d–defending her right now she’ll let you have– get a piece of her? You– Do you really think y/n would do that?” More silence though now Michael’s expression almost matched Rick’s. Both were fuming with rage. Rick simply shook his head, pulled out his portal gun and ended up in his garage again. If he would have stayed any longer he would have ended up beating that fratboy to a pulp.

In the dimly lit confines of his garage, the air thick with the pungent scent of portal fluid and vodka, Rick's rage simmered beneath a haze of alcohol fumes. His knuckles whitened around his flask as he gulped down the fiery liquid, each swig fueling the inferno of jealousy and resentment burning within him. The echoes of a heated argument still reverberated in his mind, igniting a storm of emotions that threatened to consume him whole. His bloodshot eyes fixated on nothingness, yet his thoughts were consumed by visions of betrayal and deceit, twisting his features into a contorted mask of fury.

Rick's movements grew increasingly erratic, his drunken stupor amplifying the intensity of his emotions. Each swill from the bottle became a desperate attempt to drown out the insecurities gnawing at his soul. Yet, with every passing moment, the flames of anger raged higher, feeding off his intoxication like a relentless blaze devouring dry timber. Alone in the darkness, he surrendered to the tumultuous tempest raging within, consumed by a toxic cocktail of alcohol, jealousy, and resentment. Resentment towards Michael, you and most importantly – himself.

“Fuck it.”

His plan was to be teleported in the middle of your room, right in front of your bed. Instead he landed right on top of you on your bed. Maybe he really did have too much to drink. But fuck, did he miss this. Your silky hair, your soft skin, your body pressed against his, your eyes staring into his. The faint glow of moonlight filtering through the window accentuated the contours of Rick’s silhouette, casting a seductive allure over the scene. His gaze, intense and unwavering, bore into yours, a silent invitation laden with unspoken desires.

As you laid on the bed, a mixture of melancholia and yearning coursed through your veins, your heart quickening in response to his proximity. The air crackled with tension, charged with the palpable electricity of unspoken words and unfulfilled longing. Despite the intimacy of their proximity, there lingered a delicate balance between attraction and apprehension, a dance of emotions teetering on the edge of possibility. In that fleeting moment, suspended in the hazy embrace of moonlight, you found yourselves ensnared in a silent exchange of desire, your hearts entwined in the delicate threads of possibility.

“What…what are you doing, Rick? Please leave”, your voice was shaking, filled with sadness. Just like a few weeks ago when Rick rejected you. Honestly as the days unfolded, the weight of his decision settled upon him like a heavy shroud, suffocating him with the burden of regret. What once seemed like a reasoned choice now gnawed at his conscience incessantly, tormenting him with the realization of what he had forsaken. In the quiet moments of reflection, your presence lingered in the recesses of Rick’s mind, a constant reminder of the warmth and companionship he had callously turned away. He yearned for a chance to rewind time, to recant his words and embrace the opportunity he had foolishly cast aside. But as the echoes of his rejection reverberated through his thoughts, he grappled with the harsh truth that some wounds inflicted by one's own hand can never fully heal, leaving behind scars of remorse that serve as a painful testament to lost love.

In a moment of raw vulnerability, Rick found himself enveloped by a surge of longing and regret as he reached out to embrace you. His arms wrapped around your trembling form, pulling you close with a tenderness born from the depths of his remorse. With each beat of his heart, Rick felt the weight of missed opportunities and unspoken apologies pressing down upon him, a heavy burden he could no longer bear. As your bodies pressed together, he savored the warmth of your presence, a fleeting glimpse of the connection he had foolishly forsaken. In that embrace, Rick sought solace in the familiarity of your touch, yearning to erase the distance he had allowed to grow between you. But even as he held you close, Rick knew that some wounds run too deep to mend with a simple embrace, and the ache of regret would linger long after your arms had untangled and they parted ways once more. So, he didn’t let go.

“Why– Why did you b-bring that boy over?”, Rick whispered into your ear.

“…Why do you even care?”

With a heavy heart and a tangled web of emotions, Rick mustered the courage to lean back and face you, intent on conveying the depth of his regret for his earlier rejection. His words caught in his throat, a silent plea for forgiveness lingering on Rick’s lips. Yet, beneath the facade of contrition, a different truth simmered—a truth he dared not confess. Deep down, Rick knew that admitting his regret would unravel the carefully constructed walls he had built around his heart, exposing the vulnerability he had long sought to conceal. So, with practiced deceit, Rick masked his true intentions behind a facade of remorse, weaving a tangled web of half-truths and feigned contrition in a desperate attempt to suppress the stirring of emotions he dared not acknowledge. In the shadow of his deception, the echoes of his regret remained unspoken, a silent testament to the complexities of love and the fear of baring one's soul to the object of Rick’s desire.

“Did you– Did you fuck him?”

“Why do you care?”

“y/n, st–stop with this shit. Are you dating him?”

“Why do you care?”

As you persisted, your insistence slicing through the fragile veneer of Rick’s composure, a simmering rage ignited within him, fueling the flames of his resentment. With each passing moment, your few simple words bore deeper into Rick’s wounded pride, stoking the embers of his anger into a blazing inferno. The weight of your expectations pressed down upon him like a suffocating weight, a constant reminder of the vulnerability he sought to shield from your penetrating gaze. Fueled by a toxic cocktail of jealousy and insecurity, his temper flared, unleashing a torrent of pent-up frustration and bitterness.

“What the fuck– What d–do you want to hear, huh?!”, Rick leaned on his hands, which were lying next to your head.

“Rick, listen, you rejected me. You didn’t want me, remember? I can fuck and date however I fucking want! ”

“No! You fucking can’t!”, he screamed into your face, “You said– You said loved me! Talking about– about undying love and now?! Now you get with s–some young bastard from co–college who only wanted to– to fuck you anyway!”

“That’s exactly what you wanted, too! You only wanted to fuck me!”

“That’s not fucking true! I– The last fucking weeks were pure torture. I fucking m–miss you! I can’t fuck–fucking stop thinking about you, y/n. I miss your fucking smell, your h–hair, your voice. Fucking e–everything! I miss your face, the–the way you nag me to drink more water. Jesus fucking christ! I miss you. Why– Why the fuck are crying even more now?!”

With tears of joy streaming down your cheeks, you listened intently as Rick finally mustered the courage to confess the truth hidden behind his guarded facade. As his words washed over you, each syllable laden with the weight of unspoken longing and regret, a floodgate of emotions burst forth within you. Your heart soared with a bittersweet symphony of relief and elation, the echoes of Rick’s confession resonating deep within your soul. The tears that spilled from your eyes were not born of sorrow, but of an overwhelming sense of gratitude and validation, as you realized that the love you had held in your heart had not been in vain.

In a tender moment suffused with the weight of unspoken truths and undeniable desire, Rick leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours in the hazy embrace of the moonlit room. With a gentle touch, Rick cradled your face in his hands, his fingers tracing the contours of your skin. As your lips met in a fervent kiss, time seemed to stand still, the world falling away to leave only the two of you entwined in the delicate dance of passion and longing. With each caress, the walls he had built around his heart crumbled, leaving him vulnerable and exposed in the embrace of her warmth. In that moment of intimacy, you surrendered to the magnetic pull of your shared desire, bodies entangled in a silent symphony of love and redemption.

“You know– You know I’m not good with…emotions and shit. But– But you’re important to me and–and I’m not letting another man touch what’s mine.”

“You were jealous?”

“I wasn’t– Fuck it. Yes, yes, I was. Wanted to k–kill that motherfucker. The way he–he had his arm around–”, in the middle of his rant you wrapped your legs around Rick’s waist, pulling him closer. His crotch pressing against yours.

“Just so you know, I have been very, very lonely the last few weeks.”

“Oh? S–So you’ve been a good–good girl for daddy, huh?”, it didn’t take long for Rick to get hard, his bulge pressing against you, his hand now choking you slightly, “F–fuck, princess, daddy’s going to–to reward you for being so patient.”

#𓂃⊹ ִֶָ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 #rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez x self insert #rick sanchez x y/n #rick sanchez x you #r & m #r&m #rick sanchez x oc

[tranquil-ivy]

𝔹𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕒 𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 ℝ𝕦𝕟 [ℙ𝕋𝟚.]

DI!Leon Kennedy x (Fem)Reader

Summary: You sit in the hospital and contemplate the aftermath of yours and Leons near death experience. All while waiting on him...

Words: 3.2k

Content Warning: Talks of injury, Leons in a coma, crying, this part actually made me sad..., cliffhanger (: (yes I'll make more if this does well!)

[Previous Part] | [Next Part]

Masterlist

It's been hours.

Hours since you were put in this hospital room in Miami.

Hours since, you were carried off screaming and flailing by a fellow agent.

Hours since you last saw him "alive".

You've asked different hospital staff at least 20 times for updates. Hearing the same things over and over again.

'He's in critical condition.'

'He suffered severe blood loss and a possible brain injury so comas are fairly common.'

'He'll need surgery once he's able to undergo anesthetic.'

Aside from whatever Rebecca came to share, you were completely in the dark...

And all you can do is lie in your hospital bed and wait.

The only company you have is your thoughts and the woman in the room that you've refused to speak to since she came in a few hours after they allowed you visitors.

"You can't stay mad at me forever."

That's the 6th time Jill's said that... But you're still going to talk. At least not to her.

She sighs heavily at your continued refusal to talk.

"So do your eyes not work either or are you just so pissed you don't want to even look at me?" Deeply inhaling through your nose, you look at her, crossing your arms.

"Oh wow, your ears work too? So full of surprises."

"Fuck. Off." You grumble, voice cracking from lack of use and your deteriorating emotional state.

There's a knock at the door, gaining both your attention. Jill stands up, walks over and opens it, Rebecca stepping into the room, glancing around quickly before her eyes land on you. She looks almost happy to be there, even during this mess of a situation.

"Hey, I just came to check in and share some news." Rebecca sounded chipper. Jill shuts the door, walking back over and pulling a seat up for her, a fold-up chair next to your bedside.

You sit up, excited and about to start asking millions of questions.

"Is it-" Rebecca puts her hand up, stopping you from talking. You sit back in bed, trying not to jump down her throat about anything.

"Yes." Rebecca starts as she sits down. "He's stable enough for surgery. The doctor told Chris that it looked like part of his large intestines was clipped. He'll need a hell of a lot of stitches but he'll be okay. And he's incredibly lucky it wasn't anything vital." You sigh, feeling your body relax finally after hours of being tense.

"Thank God..." Jill rubs her forehead as she starts pacing the room, finally feeling some sliver of relief.

"But..." Rebecca starts again, looking between Jill and you. "He didn't wake up before surgery... It's up to him now."

What if he doesn't wake up for a while?

What if he's stuck in the hospital for months?

What if he never wakes up?

"Hey, hey, he's gonna be okay." Jill walks over noticing your lack of response. You sniff, starting to feel the tears fighting their way out. The past few hours are the most stressful ones of your life.

Sure you've dealt with loss before. Even the loss of a coworker, but not Leon...

Leon is different. He means too much to you.

Jill pulls you into a hug as Rebecca stands to rub softly up and down your back.

"You know he's gonna pull through. He's Leon." You laugh softly into Jill's shoulder as she makes her statement, she's not wrong though.

"It would take an atomic bomb to stop that man." Rebecca adds, leaning into your other side.

"It's just... It's different this time." Jill pulls away listening to you, wiping a few of your tears away with her thumb.

"What?" She looks at Rebecca who just shrugs in response, unsure of what exactly you meant.

"Is Chris okay?" You look up at Rebecca, changing the subject because you're not quite ready to discuss what happened yet.

"He's not still woozy from the emergency transfusion is he?" You ask, looking at Rebecca. She nods.

"He's still recovering a bit. But Claire is with him in the waiting room, shoving whatever vending machine food she can find into his mouth. Like some kind of... weird... mother bird or something."

"Of course she is." Jill, chuckled, looking back at Rebecca, smiling and happy to hear some good news.

"So, what's going on with you?" Jill turns back in your direction as Rebecca asks, gesturing towards your cast.

"Leg fracture, ankle fracture and spinal fracture... I'm gonna need some physical therapy in a few weeks but I should be perfectly fine. Other than a bit of nerve damage that still needs to be accessed fully after the spinal fracture heals..." Rebecca's brows drop, frowning.

"Permanent?" Nodding slowly, you saw her face change, she looked so disappointed and guilty. "You can't go back to the D.S.O. can you? No field work at least."

"Most likely no... Where the damage is... It's gonna make my legs numb randomly. And we all know once we get a permanent injury... we're done."

"Oh God." She took your hand in hers, clutching it tight. "I'm gonna miss the hell out of working together when we did."

"It's not like she's going away forever, Rebecca. You'll still be doing desk work, right?" Jill looks optimistic for once, you stay quiet for the time being.

This could be your chance to finally get out of that cesspool of a career. Something you've thought about for years now.

"I think... I should retire." They both stare at you, mouth a gap. Out of all of you in the group, they never expected you to retire first. Especially with how much of a workaholic you were.

"That's... probably for the best." Rebecca squeezes your hand, trying to be supportive, but you can tell this choice is killing her.

"This won't hurt our friendships, right?" You look at Jill, she honestly just looks annoyed yet sad at the same time.

"Of course not."

You all know you will, in some way, hardly get to see each other, as is from everyone's busy schedule. But now you can make time for each other at least.

Hopefully.

"I think I should be getting back to Tweedledee and Tweedledum." Rebecca gives you a tight squeeze of the side looking over at Jill. "I'll be in the waiting room. If I find out anything I'll comeback."

She gives you one last rub of the back, leaving the hospital room with a quick goodbye. Once the door closes, Jill pulls the chair up next to your bed, closer, having a seat.

"Are we on speaking terms now? Or was it a truce for Rebecca's sake?"

"I'll talk." You sigh, earning a smug look from Jill.

"How is this time different?"

Of course, she asks that first. Jill's never one to beat around the bush.

What's the big deal? Just say it, she's gonna know eventually...

"I told him I love him." You say it, looking into her eyes as they blow wide.

Her jaw drops. A broken string of words came out. Unable to make a complete sentence, she shuts her mouth. Looking so lost and worried. She blinks, slumping back against the chair.

"No wonder you fought me so hard..."

Thinking back to her unlatching you from the doorway, the stairwell railing and even trying to grab a standing desk at one point. She got so annoyed with your actions when she was just trying to help.

Screaming, beating on her back weakly as she carried you all the way back to the radio room they set up where you eventually passed out due to exhaustion and woke up as the evac helicopter was landing at the hospital.

Looking back now, you feel like a child throwing a tantrum, but could you really blame yourself?

But it all made sense to her now as the guilt seeped in.

"God, if I had known-"

"Don't." She looks up at you, your eyes starting to fill with tears as you let out a broken whine, sniffling against your hospital gown collar as you wipe your eyes.

"But, I could have-"

"You did the right thing," You assert, cutting her off again. Her eyes still looking at the floor with guilt. "If he would have died on that table we both know I wouldn't have been leaving."

Jill just glances up at you, nodding and rubbing her temples.

"He said it back too."

"Oh- Oh my God." She smiles, looking almost relieved and excited. "He did? Leon Kennedy? The man known for being emotionally constipated?"

You laugh, continuing to wipe your eyes and nod with a shaky breath.

"And uhh..." You breathe out, taking a moment to gather your words. Jill leans forward, putting a hand on yours.

"Take your time."

"Thank you." You sniff again, looking back at her, the heat in your body rising as you remember the conversation again.

"He asked me if we could have had a family together. So I told him if he held on I'd give one to him. And he wanted that... With me. Me, Jill!" You smile. The tears starting to overflow again. "He wants me... I never thought he actually would."

"I know. Everyone thought one of you would die before saying something to each other." She jokes, getting you to chuckle somewhat.

"But I guess we were wrong. It was a near death."

"I don't want to lose him... I wanna give him what he wants, what we both want." Starting to cry harder, Jill gets out of the chair.

"He's gonna pull through. He has to. I'll kick his ass if he doesn't."

"What're you gonna beat up a man in a coma?" Your body jiggles as you laugh, smiling finally after what feels like an eternity.

"Maybe, maybe not."

Laying back against your pillows, you stare at the ceiling and wonder, what's going to happen in the next few days?

"I know I'm probably gonna be here for a little while," you started, lifting your head from the uncomfortable hospital pillow, "but do you think they'll let me see him?"

"Why wouldn't they?" She looks almost confused? What could stop you from seeing him?

"He's in a private room. Which means only people on his contact list can visit... His only person is our boss."

"Hun, don't worry, I'll fix it. Okay?" Your brows wrinkle looking at her.

How the hell are you gonna fix this?

"Okay..." You can't help but feel lost but you take Jill for her word when a knock comes at the door.

"Sorry to interrupt." A nurse steps in through the door. "But it's 7:45... Visiting hours are over in 15 minutes."

Jill nods to the nurse as she walks back out, closing the door.

"Listen." Jill speaks before you can say anything at all. "I'll fix it. So don't worry your pretty little head about anything, okay?"

You take a shaky breath, nodding as she leans in hugging you tightly.

"I'll try to come see you once you're back in DC. I can't promise anything but I can try." You nod again, just not feeling the need to say anything.

"I love you, remember that."

"Love you too." You wave as Jill exits the room, leaving you alone again.

Alone...

You'll be here alone. He'll be in his room alone.

Everyone's gonna go back to work tomorrow like normal, act like nothing happened whatsoever, and I'm stuck here... He's stuck here without anyone else.

He has no blood family.

We're his family...

The D.S.O. is his "family", if he can even bother to call them that...

You lay in your bed staring at the ceiling, closing your eyes, trying to let sleep consume you and your exhausted body.

....

"Miss?" Your eyes shoot open, gasping, you jump, looking around the dimly lit hospital room. The nurse from before next to your bedside jumps as you startled her as well.

I'm so out of it, I didn't even hear her come in...

"Yes?" Your voice sounds oddly normal again, minus the grogginess.

"Mr. Kennedy is out of surgery and recovering. He should be in his room again in about 10 minutes." You claw at the rail of your bed, eyes widen in surprise.

Already!?

"Is he okay?" The nurse nodded with a kind smile.

"The surgery went well. He's gonna recover just fine." The pure bliss that fills you is nothing compared to almost anything you've felt before.

"Is he awake?" The nurse's face falls with a shake of her head.

"I'm sorry, no..."

Of course not...

"Would you like me to get you a wheelchair to go see him once he's back in his room?"

They're offering...?

"Yes, yes, I would love that. Thank you."

The nurse nods, leaving your room. You look at the ceiling, smiling and feel a little bit better than you did before. Turning your head, you look at your bedside table, seeing your phone, the familiar green light of a message blinking from the black screen.

Picking it up, you turn the screen on by swiping your code through and look at the time.

12:35am. You fell asleep.

Swiping down, you see a series of texts from Jill.

'I swear this hospital is run by jackasses.' 7:57pm

'I'm talking to someone finally.' 8:13pm

'You know I hate doing it but I'm about to wave my badge around for you.' 8:42pm

'It's fixed. You're welcome <3' 9:07pm

"Jill Valentine, you're a God damn miracle worker." You squeeze your phone in excitement as you start replying.

'I owe you my life, call me later <3' 12:37am

You sit back in bed shutting your phone off and setting it back down on the table. You feel so nervous.

The 10 minutes drag by right as a nurse comes in with a wheelchair for you. Putting the railing down, she helps you out of bed and into the chair, putting your cast-covered leg up on the footrest.

Moving backwards out of the room, the bright florescent lights of the hallway blind you, a pained hiss slipping from your lips. The nurse pushing you chuckles as she wheels you to the elevator.

"Oh, I should inform you." You look up at her as she pushes the call button with a smile.

"We're gonna be moving you upstairs next to your fiance in the morning. Just thought you should know."

Fiance... Don't question Jill's methods.

Knowing what Jill did now, you just nod going along with it.

"Thank you, that is very helpful. I don't want to leave his side as much as possible..."

"Oh, understandable. You must be going through so much with him right now. I can only imagine."

You don't know half of it.

The elevator opens, you're pushed inside and the nurse pushes the floor button.

"So, how did you two meet?" The nurse asks. You look over your shoulder at her.

"Work. I was placed with him because I was experienced in our line of work. Apparently, every other person he was paired with couldn't handle him."

"And I'm guessing you could?" She chuckles, making you smile.

"Well, we've been together since November of 2013, so I'd assume yes." She laughs again.

"Who asked who out?" You froze, thinking of something quickly.

"Well, we kind of just told each other how we felt and it just happened." She nods slowly, the elevator dinging.

You're pulled back out of the elevator and start down a dim hallway. This floor looks a lot quieter and well kept.

The nurse pushes you past rooms, stopping in front of a corner room with the number 10 on it. Opening the door, she pushes you inside, seeing the curtain drawn around the bed in the room.

The nurse stops you at the bedside looking at you again.

"I'm just going to warn you. He looks like he's asleep, it's gonna be odd with everything he's hooked up to right now, but if he stays stable for a day most of it will come off."

You nod as she pulls the curtain back, revealing Leon.

Tubes... And wires. So many tubes and wires.

Your jaw drops and brows knit. His hands lay at his side and he looked like he was asleep.

You've seen what he looks like, knocked out, asleep, passed out. But this time it doesn't feel right...

Looking over him you see the bags under his eyes look lighter at least.

Feeding tube through the nose, heart monitor, IV, a ventilator and a stomach compression band across his abdomen.

He looks so vulnerable... Not at all like Leon, you know.

Taking his hand in yours, you just stare at him, letting the sight of him sink in.

At least he's alive.

"So, the ventilator should come off once the anesthetic is out of his system. It's just a precaution." The nurse comments, walking over to his bedside table, picking up a small stack of pamphlets and handing them to you.

"Thank you..." You look at them reading the titles quickly.

How to help wake up a coma patient.

My partner is in a coma.

Coma Recovery and what to expect.

"I know it's a lot right now." The nurse started, putting a hand on your shoulder. "But with his health and how well it was before hand, I'm sure he'll be up and be a pain in no time."

You smile at her, feeling thankful for such a wonderful angel of a woman at nearly 2am.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"Of course, I'll leave you to it. Feel free to talk to him, every little bit helps. And when you're ready to rock and roll out of here, just hit the call button and I'll come get you."

The nurse leaves with her final words, shutting the door as you turn looking at Leon.

Leaning towards him, you take a deep breath in.

"Hey Dumbass..." You stare at him, interlocking your fingers with his limp ones.

"This is the part where you're supposed to say 'Hey Shithead' back to me... Like normal, y'know?" Patting the back of his hand, you nod.

"Yeah I know, this hospital room..." You look around whistling softly as you look back at his face. "You'd be bitching about how over the top it is for a hospital room... I just know you would."

Sitting back in the wheelchair, you hold his hand tighter, leaning into it.

"You... I hope you can hear me. Cause I just..."

You look up at his face, feeling too uncomfortable. It's hard to almost look at him.

So many tubes and wires! What would he do to break the tension right now?

"Wanna hear a joke about paper?"

He doesn't respond.

"Never mind. It's tearable..."

Fighting the urge to look away, you lean closer again. Just needing to get what you need to say out.

"Look, I know I'm not mushy or soft usually but..."

You swallow your fears by gripping his hand for dear life.

"I need you."

He doesn't respond.

This starts to feel hopeless, but you remember.

At least he's still alive...

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #resident evil x reader

[mondaymelon]

— 𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗮𝘂: 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗰𝗼𝗹𝘆𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆? ♥

:feat~ diluc, childe, kaeya, zhongli x gn!reader:

(warnings~ obsessive behavior, cult au!)

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside

DILUC is just about as dedicated as they come.

And while his schedule is tightly packed, he spends every free minute he has by your side… Just listening to your voice energizes him more than any amount of rest will! No matter what has happened in the hours prior, everything, all worries, just seem to wash away when he faces your holy presence!

You are a pure, perfect being in his eyes.

Every breath, every step you take, should be heralded as a gift.

The only thing stopping him from abandoning all of his duties and staying with you for every waking second is… well, you, who insists that he has to do his work too. And if he disobeyed that order, you’d be upset at him, and he certainly can’t have the creator like that! If you glared at him… told him that you despised him… well, Diluc might as well just die.

Because he lived for you, and if you found him useless, then that was just what he was. He was what you determined he was.

And that fact almost reassured him.

“Diluc… you have to make sure not to overwork yourself.” His head is in your lap, eyes blissfully closed as you comb your fingers through his fluffy red hair.

“Right now, I feel better than I ever have, my savior.” ♥

Blissfully loyal CHILDE.

Who trails after you all day, every day, wanting to help you in any way he can! It was your voice that spoke to him, comforted him in his darkest times, it was you, the miracle who saved his existence. He doesn’t even want to imagine what’d he be like if you weren’t there for him… Most likely still, cold… with noone to bury his sorry corpse.

So now, he has to repay you, no matter what. He can’t just take your kindness for granted!!

After all, without you, he wouldn’t even be here. So, he’s dedicated himself to you, his life, his love, to do something, anything to benefit you.

It doesn’t matter if the other fatui members and cultists think ill of him - because they don’t matter. All that matters is you, you who is always on his mind.

“Childe?”

“Yes, my majesty?”

“I don’t know what’d I do without you.”

His eyes widen, just by a fraction, and his steady breathing hitches.

Has his heart stopped? Was this the afterlife? How come he couldn’t hear anything anymore?

“...I…” He can barely utter a word, and it’s less than a whisper.

“Is it so selfish that I want you all to myself?” ♥

Overprotective KAEYA, who can’t stand it when other cultists try to take his place.

And why should he stay silent? He has to make sure his position by your side will never change, otherwise, you might tired of him!

His flirtatious side hides his more desperate one - desperate for your attention. Your affection - your shy touches. He wants you, all of you.

But he can’t be so selfish and hasty. After all, the Savior has blessed millions and earned countless devout followers, and he’s just one of many.

Still, a small part of him has hope.

Hope that maybe, just maybe, he’s special to you.

He could be that greedy, at least, right?

The greed that fuels his racing, aching, heart whenever he’s by your side, listening to your beautiful voice with a love-sick smile.

“Kaeya, don’t you ever get tired of following me around? You should have some time for yourself… am I being a bother…?” You sheepishly glance at the blue-haired man whose walking next to you, shoulder brushing against yours. 

“Never, for as long as I live, will that ever happen.” ♥

Unwavering ZHONGLI, who will follow you to the grave and beyond if you will it.

For you, he’d do anything.

And that’s no understatement.

Ever since the death of his past lover, he had grieved, conspired against the heavens, let hatred run amok in his heart. He had directed his sorrows toward you, set his sharp gaze to you, and sought to seek revenge. Sought to seek answers. 

Why had she died?

What had she done wrong?

Why did you have to take her away from me?

But all of his troubles seemed to dissolve when you descended. It was as soon as he saw you in person, eyes glittering with unspeakable knowledge and the air of absolute fragility - as if one misspoken word could fracture you, forever.

And since that day, he had sworn to repent. Sworn to be by your side until the end of time.

“Zhongli, why do you always act so indebted to me? You’re free to act more comfortably, if you like.” You glanced at his form as he poured you a cup of tea. The man only smiled in return, before staring up at you with his seemingly golden eyes.

“You are my savior, and you deserve to be treated as such.” ♥

(a/n) inspiration is back along with a bailu theme yippeeeee yeah so im not sick anymore hehehasfadgdg

#★ ˎˊ˗ mondaymelon #astronetwrk #favoniuslibrary #sagau zhongli #yandere sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #x reader #sagau cult au #self aware genshin #genshin cult au #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli #x gender neutral reader #genshin impact diluc #diluc imagines #kaeya x gender neutral reader #kaeya #yandere childe #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact #genshin oneshots #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines

[wereallydobevibing]

Oh, the Privilege of Growing Old | Simon Riley x Reader

I used to post my stories on tiktok under the username @codlover but I figured since tiktok might get banned I should delete that account and post it here. Here’s one of the stories.

Feel free to use my work as a prompt/inspiration. Better yet, feel free to write you’re ideal part 2 just MAKE SURE YOU CREDIT AND TAG ME.

WARNINGS: None that I can think of, let me know if I missed any, though.

His eyes peel open under the beam of sunlight, which peaked menacingly through the window – Simon’s neck hurts, a crippling pain that came back every few days just to remind him that his youth was long behind him. He didn’t mind the reminder much, it was pesky and painful, but it was a humbling reminder that he’d made it much further than he ever believed he would.

Despite the pain, he cranes his neck to the opposite side of the bed. These days, you often awoke long after him. Simon had always been an awful sleeper, that part of him never left even after retirement; but when you were younger, you often stressed being awake before him; a competition you never won.

With a tilt of his head, there you were – you in all your glory, sleeping soundlessly right beside him. He reckoned it was all the beauty sleep you got that kept you aging well. At the rippling age of seventy-three you had few wrinkles, excluding the smile lines around your eyes that would especially be exaggerated when you beamed up at him, even if you no longer recognized him.

At least, you didn’t recognize him as who he was now.

“[Y/N],” He later called out to you from the kitchen, “Breakfast is ready.”

“I can’t eat right now,” you cried, running around the bedroom with a million things craddled in your hands; hairsprays, makeup. “My husband will be home soon, I need to do my hair!”

Over the many years of you being together, Simon never considered that your day to day activities revolved around him even while he was on deployment. Alzheimer’s would quickly reveal your hidden truth for him, though. At first, he found it endearing how you would unknowingly reenact your younger days, bustling about the house and stressing over decorations and “I need to go buy a new dress for when I get Simon from the airport!”.

No matter what day you thought it was, Simon would relive that day with you, watching you fret over the smallest details; “Oh, this is so cute, but Simon doesn’t like orange!”

He would spend everyday listening to you talk about himself – your smart, strong, loving husband who’d done so many incredible things while serving his country. Your Simon who’d given you three sons and everything else you ever wanted. Simon Riley, who you were so proud of even if he thought lowly of himself. You were just so in love with him.

Overtime, he began to feel his heart ache. He never thought before that maybe you’d spent every minute of every day trying to decipher something as little as whether Simon preferred you in a pale, light shade of purple or a blush, baby pink. He never cared as long as you were still here when he came home. But it seemed that making sure the house was comfortable and that you were dolled up and pretty for him was essential to life for you.

It made him regret back in your twenties, when he’d left you for six months in fear that if he died, you’d be left with the responsibility of cutting all his strings for him. It had broken your heart, and for a time you believed he’d left you for another woman and covered it up with such an excuse, the easiest excuse. He hadn’t ever known another woman after you – he just didn’t want you to live out the rest of your life kneeling over his grave if he died.

He finally gave in and brought you back home when he ran into you in the city, still wearing the wedding ring. When he asked why you would still wear the damn thing, you said, “I took my vows, Simon. I’ll keep them.”

The thought of leaving you never crossed his mind again, even if it was to save you your heartache. Clearly, it would ache whether he was dead or alive when he left you. It took time to fully regain your trust and restore your broken heart, and he didn’t blame you.

You became his motivator, then – the reason to always make it home, if only to protect your mental well-being. The idea of you writhing in pain, sleeping in a cold, empty bed, is what kept him alive all these years, and he swore by it. He would never want that for you.

“[Y/N],” Simon says, now entering the bedroom, watching you lay out all your cosmetics and self-care products.

“Not now,” you huff impatiently, “Simon’s gonna be waiting for me at the airport.”

Simon’s gazing down on you warmly, “Simon will want you to eat, love.”

“Do you even know him enough to say that?” You scowl, “Don’t touch me, he’ll kill you.”

He wants to laugh, but there’s in itch in his brain that reminds him not to. It seemed you were quite . . . fanatical when it came to him. After almost forty years of marriage, you gave him reason every day to love you more, and more, and mor–

“Believe me, love, I know him well,” Simon sets the plate down on your vanity, the one he built for you many years ago. “Eat. You get restless when you’re hungry.”

Simon leans over to kiss the top of your head, and he laughs when you swat him away, angry, saying, “Watch! Just watch when he gets home, you’re done!”

With the empty threat of total destruction hanging over his head, he collapses himself back on the bed and flickers on the TV, a small smile playing at his lips as he watches you out the corner of his eyes.

This lifetime had not been enough time with you. But deep down in his soul, Simon knew he’d find you again in the next.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod #call of duty #modern warfare #john price #john mactavish #kyle garrick

[icouldntfinditsoiwroteit]

Made something?

I've been really obssesing over poppy playime lately, the game is so damn good, I genuinly love it, so this is mostly just work in progress and a small "lab test" if you may when it come to my writting since I want to experiment with stuff.

"You....Your Poppy's angel" Those where the first words you heard from to the giant mangled creature that resembled the critter Dogday.

"Come to save us" His voice was hoarse, his lower body completely gone, all the while his hand where held unto metal hooks to keep his body...or what remained of it suspended in the air.

"Nothing left to save...not here" How right he was, you had come here to try and get answers, at least to try and understand what had happened, what had gone wrong and yet you had only found death and failure...but this was new.

"You're in Catnaps home, angel" For the first time since entering this forgotten place you had found...suffering...fresh real suffering, of course you could guess Mommy longlegs had died painfully but that ws nothing compare to this...thing...

"Their home, a million pairs of eyes are on you now," This was never meant to happen, you had come here with a clear goal and yet now...you could only feel bad...not pitty but genuinely sad, there was nothing you could do for those old coworkers who were long dead, or for the children who you were pretty sure had shared the same fate as your coworkers did.

"Watching, waiting, hungry..." Hungry...that had always bothered you, it was such a huge design flaw, you had tried to tell them, how there needed to be some change so they wouldn't need to eat, you had even given them the absolute best reason, it would cost less to mantain, and yet they hadn't listened...

"They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by litte bit," You really wish those higher up brainless sad excuses of human beings would still be alive so you could laugh at them...although they did get eaten, so that will have to do at least.

"And feel what is empty inside themselves" The little failures would be dissapointed with what they found...little to fill their empty husks.

"Listen to me, you need to get out of this place," Tempting...

"You need to live," It's not like you're interested in doing otherwise, to many loose ends to leave behind by selfishly dying.

"You and Poppy can fix this, end this madness, the torment, the-oh no," Those small critters had started inching closer to the mangled body of Dogday, they were so fucking ugly, such failures about to twist even more one of the few succesful ones, one you had spent so much work nd time on, he looked utterly helpless, pathetic and...terrified

"OH NO!" He was absolutely terrified, of course anyone would be if small creatures were about to eat their insides bit by bit, it is only natural to fear such  painfull death and yet...

"Leave me, please, just go, RUN!!" He was still trying to get you to leave, more worried about you than himself...

You really don't realize what you've done until after you've done it that the screams of the small critters fill the room as you shoot them with the bengal gun hand as you pull Dogday with all your strength much to his shock as he basically falls on top of you, causing you to almost fall over from the unexpected weight, yet you manage not to fall back as you regain your bearing, holding Dogday tightly, the plushfur of his body was all matted and smelled putried almost making you drop him and recoil.

But you didn't...

"Angel what are you doing?" His voice sounded absolutely shocked yet terrified at the same time.

"You shouldn't have done that, Catnap won't let this pass!" He was now panicking as you manuvered him so he would be on you back.

"Hold my shoulders, don't let go," You order and he does as told, holding unto your shoulders, almost reminding you of a plushie backpack, except the plushie was giant, missing half of it's body and absolutely dirty...

Oh well, you'd fix that later, now you needed to get out of this damned laberynth of a place before those disgusting small critters got to you.

#poppy playtime 3 #poppy playtime #dogday #catnap #poppy playtime chapter 3 #gender neutral reader #reader insert

[no-m4gic]

Hi! I'm the anom who asked for the autistic reader and I loved your writing! So may I request the same THH characters but with a reader who's try to be the sunshine in their lives (example: help Chihiro to be himself), but is secretly depressed and hide It from them cause reader doesn't want to seem fragile?

Sorry If Is complex XD thx!

i have limited free time so i know im probably never gonna complete (another) request(s) today. also i discovered i have no idea how to write for hifumi and yasuhiro, so i'm gonna blacklist them and replace them with mukuro. felt like this request seemed like a good prompt for nagito and also i feel like i could replace ishimaru's one with komaeda's as an apology.

sorry if you wanted the girls too, i'll get on them as soon as i finish my work- i didn't have enough time to write for them. i'll write for ishimaru, too. sorry for missing a lot of characters!

p.s thanks guys for your support !! i appreciate it sm <33

that's a long title 😨

the tags are such a PAIN

~ mod sitaya

THH CHARACTERS W/ AN S/O WHO IS THEIR SUNSHINE BUT IS SECRETLY DEPRESSED

BYAKUYA TOGAMI

"damnit s/o, why didn't you tell me earlier? you know i wouldn't judge you."

money = happiness to him, so he wouldn't fully understand your pain. he'll still support you though, if you need anything he'll send one of his workers to get it for you.

i mean if you were gone, yeah, he'd definitely be upset, so whenever he couldn't understand, he'll just imagine how he'll be like if you died or something.

he'll hire a personal therapist for you, unless you want him to be your therapist... which trust me, he is not good at.

bro can't even comfort anyone without making them cry more.

since he can't comfort someone psychologically, he'll comfort them physically, though he'll only show displays of affection at home or when you guys are alone, n e v e r in public.

honestly at this point, he won't give a shit if you stain his rich people clothes with your tears, he can buy the same new clothes again.

he's not that desperate, but can you imagine byakuya singing his s/o a lullaby?

not really, but he'll tuck you into bed himself personally if you fall asleep while sobbing your eyes out.

if you don't, he'll ask if you wanna fly out of japan for awhile, on his rich people private jet.

it's the least he could do to repay you for helping him during his dark times.

MAKOTO NAEGI

"s/o. how could you hide this from me? did you think i was going to criticize you...?"

he wouldn't ask the million questions running through his head first, he'd hold you first.

you come before anything.

he'll hold you for as long as you'd like, letting you cry in his shoulder while he rubs your back and pats your head.

since you helped him show the others he isn't an 'omega male' and also chased everyone who bullied him away, he'll return the favor.

he'll tell the teacher that you weren't feeling well and needed some time to rest in your room.

also he'll bring you your homework so you don't have to get it yourself and do tons of paperwork at once after coming back.

you don't need a therapist, you have naegi tell them as your therapist.

he'll listen to you go on for the entire day, and if you need to break down, you can jump into his arms and break down, using his shirt as a handkerchief.

MONDO OOWADA

"damnit... who did this s/o?!"

honestly he might just break down too.

but then he'll tell himself he's gotta be a man, with balls in front of his s/o.

he'll put his coat around you and hug you, telling you that it's alright and you can let everything out.

you can take that in any way.

he feels really guilty whenever he has to leave you for training or a competition.

but he'll always come back with a gift and your favorite takeout.

if you ever wanna cuddle, go find him. he'll be more than happy to have a reason to hold you.

daily compliments whenever you two meet up.

CHIHIRO FUJISAKI

"s/o, it's okay. you're not hopeless, you're filled with hope, you still have so much more potential,"

he'll offer to accompany you to do some activities to keep your mind distracted and also to cheer you up.

something maybe like styling your hair and making it look ridiculous by putting tons of bright, glittery accessories on your hair.

he'd ask if sharing his own insecurities would help, maybe just so you know he has other countless insecurities than just him fearing showing the others he's a guy.

if making your hair look worse than junko's didn't cheer you up, chihiro would make up some stupid games like hop like a bunny into mondo's room or sing one of sayaka's songs outside makoto's room while he's showering.

speaking of sayaka's songs, he'll blast all her upbeat pop songs in the room and you two can dance your heart out.

LEON KUWATA

"i figured. now come here i'm gonna cuddle your sadness away!"

leon would definitely try to remain positive

the only good side would be that he could skip his daily weekday baseball training, since y'know he likes hates baseball.

but no, really, he'd have NO idea on how to comfort someone properly.

he'd ask what he could do to make you feel better.

as well as bring you out to get ice cream.

while you guys are out you may or may not encounter celestia's cat wandering around aimlessly... and bring it back to leon's room.

obviously you guys return her, maybe style her a little, watch leon get scratched by her and so on.

overall at least you recovered quickly and now everyone can see you smile again <3

BONUS ;; NAGITO KOMAEDA

NAGITO KOMAEDA

"oh s/o. you didn't have to hide it from me, hopeless trash like me don't have the right to judge hopeful people like you,"

well now it was his turn to have his clothes stained with tears.

countless outfits of yours have been stained with his tears, because whenever you'd return late (which was always) he'd think you left him or something, and the closest thing he has to you are your clothes.

he's clingy.

and he'll become clingier.

everywhere you go he'll follow you like a lost puppy.

lost puppy literally. he won't just follow you, he'll beg for your attention.

anyway... back to you, once you even mention you were upset he'd pull you into a tight hug.

imagine how long that tight hug would be with depressed.

verrrrrry verrry long.

he'd wish he didn't have to let go of you.

and he wouldn't. you'd have to literally wait for him to fall asleep just to work your way out his arms.

he'll shower you in compliments and bless you with encouragements.

if you wanted he could ask gundham for a cat or dog or something, or he'd blackmail gundham just to "borrow" the four dark devas of destruction for like 10 minutes before giving them back even though nagito would lie and say they'd forever be gone.

you want, he buy. literally, you just have to say "i want this" and you'll have it.

no more despair only hope.

IM SORRY ITS MISSING SO MANY CHARACTERS ANON 😭

#byakuya togami x reader #byakuya x reader #togami x reader #makoto naegi x reader #makoto x reader #ishimaru x reader #mondo owada x reader #mondo x reader #chihiro fujisaki x reader #chihiro x reader #leon kuwata x reader #kuwata x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda x reader

[mockerycrow]

I SEE YOU EVERYWHERE (Soap x GN!Reader)

soap masterlist

a/n: i wrote this after listening to this song. not proofread LOL enjoy. 984 words! also i’m sorry about how i’m basically non existent. i’m trying, y’all </3

[WARNINGS: MWIII spoilers, major character death, grief, mentions of catholicism. pure angst, hurt/little comfort.]

Sixty-seven days ago. Two months it’s been, approximately nine whole weeks. Estimating around ninety-five thousand minutes and over five million seconds. 

It’s been sixty-seven days since.. You know. You always wake up feeling like it happened sixty-seven seconds ago instead. Your eyes flutter open and you take a breath, inhaling a certain kind of heavy and thick into your lungs. Your chest expands uncomfortably in the morning, your ribs squeezing your lungs a bit tighter than before. Accompanied with the tightness of your chest is this tingling feeling, so slight it’s almost like background noise, just like how the past few weeks have felt. They’ve flown by in a flash, but at the same time, are oh so slow. 

Sometimes, you wake up expecting to see him standing over your sleeping form to wake you up after staying up a tad bit too late because he insisted you do so. So he wasn’t lonely because ‘The LT denied me’, in his words. Sometimes, your eyes are sick and twisted towards you. Your eyes are faster than your brain and you see him. You see his shadow so thick you’re convinced until you reach upwards, your fingers pushing through the dark smoke that enters your lungs after you’ve blinked. 

You’re sure the others have noticed the toll it’s taken, despite your efforts to hide. You know they’re hurting in their ways, too. Being in a tightly packed task force like this, you’re bound to know each other's tells. Part of you wonders who is hurting the most. Is it Gaz? The man who’s been the most logical out of all five four of you. Is it Ghost? The enigma of your group? He’s always been quiet, hard to read. Harder since.. Everything. Maybe it’s Price. He’s the one who actually saw, really. The one who watched him…

…

You feel something in your throat bubble, so you push the thought away. 

Then you come back to it. Maybe it’s you who’s hurting most, being his lover. The person he insisted that was his other half he had been looking for. Maybe that’s you being hopeful and cheesy; maybe it’s you being selfish. You aren’t sure. Honestly, you aren’t sure what you should be feeling, nor are you sure how your teammates should be reacting. There’s five stages of grief and everyone’s path looks different. 

Denial – you aren’t sure who you think denial is at first. Symptoms are fear, avoidance. What happened, you can’t avoid it. Not really when he was so integral to the team. Is. He never stopped being. After a few days of people watching, you’ve decided it’s you. You wanted to put it onto someone else at first, maybe Gaz—perhaps Ghost. They’re still.. Living. Going through the motions, at least. But you had to look at yourself late at night, around two forty-five am to ask, “are they the one’s waking up thinking he’s standing over them?”

No. They are not. It’s you. Of course it’s you.

Next—anger. You debated this one, of course it was tied between Ghost and Price but after Shepherd died, of course the Captain took that title with no question. There is a major difference between peaking into the gym, watching Ghost gasp for air after a night full of boxing and then hearing through Laswell the General has been killed. Major difference, indeed. It’s not often your Captain loses his cool and when he does, it’s for good reason. He deserved it, you only wish Price was more cruel.

Bargaining? It’s a no brainer, you decided as soon as you thought of it. Gaz. None of the men cry much, but it wasn’t a surprise when you found Gaz sitting on the steps outside of the temporary base, smoking a cigarette with misty eyes paired with a lost look. A look where he wasn’t completely there; lost somewhere, maybe in thought, maybe back in that moment. In the moment where he had to ignore his mutilated body to focus on the bomb. On the fact that Makarov was getting away. He lit a second cigarette.

Maybe it doesn’t quite fit him, but Ghost was the last one to decide for. Depression is what you ended up assigning him. There’s not many words for how you could describe him. Ghost’s been flighty, quiet yet hostile. He never means to snap at any of you of course, you all know it. You can tell from the heavy, long look he gives you after snarling at you like a cornered dog. He’s just sad and scared, something you can understand on a deeper level. With him, it feels like beckoning a wolf with bits of meat—a wolf who isn’t afraid to bare his teeth. You’re willing to get bit.

Then… what’s left?

Oh, yeah. 

Acceptance. Left for the one who is forever missing.

In a way, it feels wrong. You know he’ll never be able to move on like the rest of the world can. It feels even worse when you realize only a select amount of people will know about his death—the world won’t know who he is. Work in the dark to serve the light, hm? What a fucked world. After spreading his ashes across the hills, it feels like he’s become one with the Earth. Maybe that’s his form of acceptance; going back to what housed him. The green roots and blue skies. The rain that pours down over the ruined cities you’re crawling through, the beautiful stars and planets above you during a late night in God knows where. You see him everywhere.

You hope God is taking care of him, as you rub your fingers over his cross necklace. The last thing you have left of him; his dog tags sitting in a memorial on base. You may or may not believe, but Johnny sure did. And you know, somewhere deep down, he’s alright.

🏷️; @kivino @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @narcolepticduck @ch3rrykoolaid @kimdiedlater @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @indefenseofkara @mushr00mf00d @lieutenantlashfaz @fiveshotsofjager @queen-leviathan @specter319 @theunplannedvariable @spacelia @1117sblog @snoowply @dumb-fawkin-bitch @abigatorchomp

not tagged? you’re either not on my taglist, your submission confused me or your settings to tag are off. click here to add yourself to my tag list.

tagged when you don’t want to be? let me know! no hard feelings <3

#call of duty #cod #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #modern warfare ii #mw2022 #mw2 2022 #mwiii #modern warfare #modern warfare iii #cod mwiii #call of duty mwiii #soap mwiii #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x gn!reader #john mactavish x gn!reader #john soap mactavish x gn!reader #soap modern warfare #modern warfare soap #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap #soap call of duty #soap mw2 #john soap mctavish x reader #cod mw #cod soap

[farahtissaiamyloves]

Are your requests on? If so could I request something with Andromache? I love her and there’s not enough fanfiction out there with her

-Ara

Capture

Andromache of Scythia x reader

Note: I know that I've been gone for months. However, I've been preparing for the most important examinations of my life, and it's been really stressful for me. I hope you enjoy this and thanks again to Ara for the amazing request.

You were looking out of the only window of your room - more like a cell, but you had come to accept that long ago.

You considered yourself lucky - what they did to Quynh was by far worse from what was happening to you.

At least that's what you had convinced yourself.

Dying again and again, only to be brought back to life to die once again deep down the sea, was horrible.

However, being captured for (you had lost count) something more than 4 centuries was even more horrific.

You missed your best friend, of course you did, but the emptiness that washed over you at your wife's absence was something else.

You and Andy were the first immortal warriors. She had found you pretty quickly. You hadn't even understood when you died or what the weird dreams were before she sat you down and explained.

You hadn't been apart ever since. Spending every single day next to her was a privilege and a gift.

You learned so many things from her. After all, Andromache had already been alive for 300 years.

After spending a s couple of decades traveling around the world with her as your only company, it came to no surprise for neither of you when you ended up sleeping together one night.

And that night proved to be the beginning of the most wonderful thing that ever happened to both of your lives.

You loved every second of it.

You being wrapped in her arms while she was kissing the top of your head or you caressing her naked, extremely soft skin as she was wrapping a blanket around the two of you; Andy couldn't have her beloved baby catch a cold.

You teared up recalling your wife. Your beloved wife.

You wrapped your hands around your legs and pushed them against your chest.

You missed her.

You missed her so much.

After 5000 years and a couple of centuries, you were finally divided.

You looked up as you saw the door opening.

A paramedic came in with a huge needle.

Here we go again.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

Andy looked at the only building standing in the area. The only building among a plethora of trees and all kinds of plants.

" Alright, Joe, remind us one last time what we are her for. " Andy spoke.

" We are here to save all the girls/women those people experiment on. We don't know more, including the number of either the victims or the security agents, which means that caution is strongly recommended. " The man pointed out.

The rest of the team nodded, listening carefully.

Little did they know about who the real guinea pig was.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

They killed, killed, and killed once again.

They found countless of the latest laboratory equipment, yet no girl or woman asking for their help.

The team knew that it wasn't a trap.

No trap would have been equipped with so many tools costing millions.

Andy was growing more and more frustrated.

For a human with that much of an experience, she should have caught on by now.

" Guys, I think I found it. " Nicky whispered, pointing with his gun at the only door of the corridor at their right.

They as silently as they could run to it. The door did look like a cell. A bulletproof door with a password was always placed to hide something important, and the group came to this very same building for something important.

If they weren't able to free any innocents, they could at least learn what the fuck was happening there to put a stop to it.

Joe placed some light explosives on the door, telling everybody to buck off, which they were more than eager to do.

He pushed the button and a loud sound was heard, shortly followed by the sound of the door falling on the floor.

The team immediately raised their weapons and entered the room, shouting that they were armed.

Nile, who was the first to get in, quickly scanned the whole room and announced to everybody what they could already see with their bare eyes. " It's empty. "

Realizing that it was just a simple bedroom, the team was to turn away until Nicky pointed at the bed. " I think someone's sleeping there. "

" Don't be ridiculous. Wouldn't have they heard the explosives ? " Nile jumped in.

" Not if they were dragged. Guys, I think we found our victim. " Andy spoke slowly, walking to the bed.

She noticed that the person was fully covered by the blanket, so she slowly pulled it off only to freeze midway.

Andy knew that sleeping face.

Truth be told, she knew it better than her own face.

She had traced it countless of times with her fingertips.

She had seen all kinds of emotions on that face.

" A-Andy ? Is something wrong ? " Nile inquired, feeling beyond confused with the leader's teared up face.

" Shhhhh. "

Nile turned to look at both Joe and Nicky, giving her stern glances.

" What ? " She asked again, unable to understand where her wrongdoing was.

" Oh my love. I thought you were dead. " Andy whispered, kissing the top of your head.

She, then, turned to the couple. " Me and Nile are going to get her to the safe house. You make sure to clear everybody out and destroy this place. Nobody should know anything concerning our immortality. Was I clear ? "

" Yes, boss. "

" Good. "

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

You slowly opened your eyes.

Sleeping under the influence of whatever drugs they were giving you had the luck and the curse of having no dreams.

You blinked, taking in your surroundings.

No.

Not again.

You hated when they were changing your room because that meant that they had given you strong enough medication to sleep for days.

Suddenly feeling unwell, you instinctively placed a hand on top of your head, and with the other, you pulled the blanket to cover you completely.

" You've already slept for at least 10 hours, I recommend waking up, eating something, and walking around for a while. " Suddenly, a voice interrupted your thoughts.

Your blood froze for a whole second, thinking that your wife just talked to you.

However, you knew better. Drugs have side effects. They made sure you knew each and every single one.

You didn't move - not even to look, still remembering how heartbroken you had been the last time you did - and closed your eyes to sleep.

" Darling, did you hear me ? " Andy made her voice sweeter, waiting for you to move and see her sitting on the armchair near the bed.

Andromache waited a couple of minutes to watch the lack of reaction. Maybe your hearing had been impacted, or maybe you were still hazy due to being drugged the day prior.

The woman sighed, sitting up.

" Sleep well, sweating. " She wished kissing the top of the blanket - where your forehead was.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

You were frozen on the spot. Your mind running a million miles per second.

In the back of your mind you registered her steps and the door opening and closing.

You felt it. You felt her lips through the blanket.

Your wife was here.

She rescued you.

You teared up, unable to resist.

Your wife came for you.

She hadn't forgotten about you.

She still loved you.

Your hand reached the other pillow of the bed. Slowly, as you were still slightly hazy from your sleep, you moved your head on top of it.

It was her.

Her smell.

She had you sleep on her bed.

How long had it been since you shared one.

You immediately wrapped your hands around it and pulled Andy's pillow onto your chest.

You loved her so, so much.

However, still being under the influence of the drug, you quickly fell asleep once again.

This time with your beautiful wife on your mind.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

Andromache came back into the room after a couple of hours.

She had to make sure that everything was taken care of as well as cook you some food.

Andy quietly set the tray down at the bedside table and looked at you.

A smile formed on her face as she noticed your figure wrapped around her pillow.

" Darling, you have to wake up. " She whispered with her sweetest voice next yo your ear.

You whined and turned your face away from her, burying your face in her pillow.

Andromache gently shook your shoulder while leaving small kisses wherever she could reach, mainly your shoulder.

You opened your eyes, slowly turning to face your one and true love, the very person to whom you have devoted yourself for a couple of thousand years.

Still feeling dizzy, you sleepily smiled at her as you reached to caress her cheek. " Morning. " Your voice was way too harsh than your normal one, as you realized you had probably spent a day without a single drop of water.

Andy kissed your forehead lovingly. She brought a cup of water to your lips and propelled you to drink some.

You happily did as Andy wanted you to, too dizzy to oppose her (not that you would have, you were quite thirsty).

As Andromache placed the cup of water back to its place, you took the chance to wrap your hands around her waist and bury your head in her neck.

Your wife chuckled at your adorable reaction and embraced you back, pulling your body closer to her.

" God, I thought you were dead. " She whispered, continuing washing your body with kisses.

" I... " You stopped midsentence, not sure about how what you intended to say would sound to her.

Andy gently messaged your sculp, silently propelling you to talk to her.

You took a deep breath as you turned to look at her with teary eyes. " I wish I was... "

Andy took your face in her arms. " No. No. Don't you dare ever say that. "

You shook your head, casting your gaze downward. " But, it's true. "

" If you had died, my love, we would have never reunited, would we ? " Andromache countered.

You hesitantly looked upward, at her beautiful striking eyes. " It was torture. "

Your wife gave you a sad smile. " I know. I know... But the important thing is that you are here, in my arms, safe and sound. "

You nodded reciprocating the gesture. " Indeed. "

" And just like back then.... We have all the time in the world to do whatever we please. " Andy's smile widened as her eyes narrowed meaningfully.

You laughed a little, wondering how could a single person delete 400 years of torture, but then again.

That person was your beloved wife.

Your Andy.

#andy the scythian x reader #charlize theron #andy the scythian #andy andromache of scythia #andromache x reader #andromache x you #the old guard

[veayrss]

One snake, One Griffindore.

Summary:new year, horrible headmaster, besties left you, and your lover is ignoring you?

Warning:Cursing, angst, kissing.

You can feel it, in every your fiber of your being. The war is coming quicker then everyone knows. Harry Hermione, and Ron are missing. Gone without a trace, other then the fact they were at the ministry of magic.

You were mad at them, of course you were. You four were inseparable. Every time you were with someone it was on or the other or just all of you.

The two Weaseley’s, The chosen one, and The human encyclopedia. You’d think they’d let you know that they are going on the hunt for the last hotcruxs and bring you with them.

Guess you thought wrong. Now your suffering in school, being under snaps and mainly the Carrows rath and watch every second of the day. Now your boyfriend Theodore Nott is a fucking bitch, he never looks your way, talk to you, speaks about you, and every time you try to talk to him he ignores you.

He looks at you and walks away, you gave up trying. At this point all you wanna do is not die, and pass school. After that your leaving, either with or without Nott. You don’t care about him anymore, that’s what you tell your self every time you see him and he looks so drained.

All you want to do is hug him, run your fingers through his hair, rub his back, hold him, and just be there for him. But you know you can’t, and he doesn’t want it, that’s what you think at least. But little do you know he’s craving it. He misses you. He need you.

He’s going through living hell and all he wants is the only person who grounds him and cares for him. But he want you safe, he wants to make sure you live through this war. Even if that means he’s going to die doing so.

༻✦༺

Right now your helping some first year who had to endure some hex’s in class. “Hey love look at me.” You lift her chin up wiping her tears with your thumbs, hearing her sniffles breaks your heart into a million pieces. “Your ok darling, you were so strong! I’m so proud. If that was me I would have never been able to deal with that.” She smiles softly, now asking.

“when will it be over?” You furrow your eyebrows, you don’t want to lie to her. “To be honest, I don’t know. But let’s hope soon right?” You give your best comforting smile you have. She nods hugging you.

You hug her back, now pulling away. “Ok now go change into some comfortable clothes ok sweetie?” You tell the first year Griffindore. She nods and leaves.

You sigh holding back tears rubbing your temple. ‘Where the fuck are you three.’ You thought, getting up to where all your friends is at grabbing a mirror and cleaning your self up, then Ariana walks over pointing to Neville and walking away. Everyone is quite.

So Neville gets up and follows her through the secret path way, after some time he comes back opening the painting, “hey, listen up you lot. Brought you a surprise.” Everyone is now fully paying attention.

You look at Seamus and Cormac is all having confused expressions on, then Seamus speaks up, “Not more of aberforths cooking cooking I hope. Be a surprise if we can digest it.” You chuckled and looked up at Neville and he smirks at you.

You furrow your eyesbrows and then he moves out the way, Harry, Ron, and Mione are now in vision. “Blimey..” Seamus says getting up along with everyone else clapping and running over at the surprise of them three.

They walk down hugging everyone, you stand there staring at your twin brother Ron, a furious look on your face and a nervous one on his. Then you break down into tears hugging him tight.

He lets out a sigh of relief and hugs you back tighter, “I thought you died you lot!” Your yell being muffled by his shoulder, “I’m sorry n/n.” You pull away and punch his chest hard, He lets out a groan holding his chest.

“I forgot how hard you can hit.” He whines rubbing his left peck, “your so lucky I’m glad your a live right now and the fact we need your help other I would be yelling ALL three of you.” You say now acknowledging your two other best friends, now hugging them both.

“Okay, okay! Let’s not kill him before you-know-who gets and chance to tell.” Everyone quotes down and looks over at the united four core, “what’s the plan Harry?” Neville asks.” Everyone now starring.

༻✦༺

After Harry explained what the plan is, which is nothing to go on, then Ginney has informed you all that Snape knows harry is here. So you get ready and marched to the great hall.

You all are now in the great all standing in groups, as you look around your eyes meet with Theo, already looking at you. You couldn’t break eye contact. He looks so tired and drained, they all do. All of your friends. Then snape starts speaking snapping you both out of your trance.

“Many of you are surely wondering why I have summoned you at this hour.” He says, with a pause staring at every one, Then continues to speak. “It has come to my attention that earlier this evening..” again, he pauses. “Harry Potter was sighted in hogsmaid.” He finally Finishes causing everyone to gasp and murmur.

You, yourself gasped dramatically causing Ron to side eye you, making you chuckle lightly looking at him whispering “what? Have get in character right?” Smiling has he chuckled causing Mione you death glare the two of you.

Theodore is watching you, who are you laughing with? Why are you laughing at someone else? Though he doesn’t have the right to be mad, he knows he doesn’t, but he cant help it. He looks away as snape continues his talk.

“Now, should anyone, student or staff, attempt to aid Mr. Potter. They will be punished, in a manner consistent with the severity of their transaction. Furthermore.. any person found to have knowledge of these events, who fails to come forward, will be treated as… equally guilty.” Snape said, everyone now on edge.

Theodore looks over at you, watching your expression. His heart raced. You know. He knows you know, he can’t speak upon it but he hopes you will. He sighs, who is he kidding? He knows the devotion you have for Harry, he knows you’d get yourself killed just for him and your friends and family.

That scares him as equally as lord Voldemort does. He looks over at snape. “Now then. If anyone in here..” he says walking down the empty path way between everyone.

"Has any knowledge of Mr. Potters movements this evening.. I Invite them to Step forward. Now." He Finishes, pausing looking at Cho, one of your friends.

Then at Griffindore making eye contact with you. Theo’s heart dropped down to to his ass. Then his eyes went wide, everyone gasping as Harry Potter walks out, exposing himself saving your ass.

"It seems, despite your exhaustive defense strategies, you still have a bit of security problem headmaster." Harry states, the doors now opening revealing Ron, Hermione, Neville, Dean, the Weasley family, the Lupin's and other more. Now y/n and Ginny walk out of line running over to the group, as y/n hugs her mother and father, then her uncle Mr. Lupin.

Harry now looking back at them smiling, "and I'm afraid it's quite extensive.." looking back at snape, "How dare you stand were he stood. TELL THEM HOW IT HAPPENED THAT NIGHT. TELL THEM HOW YOU LOOKED HIM IN THE EYE. A man who trusted you, and killed him.”

Silence fell, Snape then pulled out his wand on Harry. Making everyone back up quickly, and everyone that Harry brought pull out there wand, including y/n. Making Professor McGonagall step in-front of Harry pointer her wand at him.

                          ༻✦༺

Professor McGonagall fought Snape, killing the Corrow twins in the process, and Snape fleeing the scene, now everyone is jumping up and down in joy, hugging there friends, lovers. Speaking of lovers, Theo is looking for his. Hoping it’s not to late, As he pushing through the crowd, he sees her.

She’s talking with her parents and uncle, Theo just stands there. His palms are sweaty, his heart is racing, and his legs are jello. He hasn’t spoken to her for almost a full year and it was hell as he says. Then all of a sudden he hears a girl scream. He looks over the people and sees a girl in a corner holding her ears.

Then another scream, close to him. He turns around and sees you, screaming on the floor holding your ears. He runs to you dropping on his knees, putting his arms on your arms “Y/n!” He yells, trying to get your attention. Then harry rushes over to you, as he was about to put his hand on your shoulder.

Then another girl screams, and soon enough everyone is hearing voices in there head. The screaming has stopped. Y/n still in Theo’s arms painting, then they all hear You-know-who. He’s talking about giving up Harry, and he’d spare the school.

Everyone knows that’s a lie, after he’s done speaking Theo helps you up, making sure your steady. “Y/n. Are you ok?” He asks, moving your hair out of your face to behind your ear a worried look on his face. “Theo?” You look up at him in shock, you grab his r wrist and move it holding his hand.

He smiles softly, “hey love..” he says softly putting his forehead on yours taking in your scent he missed. You close your eyes taking him in, “theo..” you pull away and grab a hold of his forearms, “why were you so distant?” You asked him, a hurt expression on yours and his face.

“I’m sorry love, I really am. So much has happened during summer.. I-.. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” He stuttered out, he’s holding back from you. You know know why, but you just wanna cherish this moment having your theo back. “Ok Theo.. but you know I can handle myself right? And don’t ever do that again.” You tell him sternly, he just chuckles and nods his head agreeing with you.

—————————————————————————-

should I leave it at this? Or continue..? Not sure🤷🏻‍♀️

#fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #harry potter #theo nott imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n

[lisa972kdlz]

(The French version is below)

I just realized something.

About Dreamtale. Why we're so touched by this AU, and by the twins.

I just understood why Nightmare is so popular, why he touches us, why he touches ME, even though he's NOT my favorite character compared to Dream, Ace or Error.

Because we identify with his problems?

Yes.

Because we sympathize with his backstory?

Certainly.

Because we love drama and tentacles?

... Meh, for sure.

Because Dreamtale brings an extremely interesting symbolic theme about feelings?

Indeed.

Because fandom has developed the story of the two siblings in all its forms, and we've been taken on board without really realizing it by the fan creations - comics, drawings, fan fiction - that we discover as we go along?

Absolutly.

But that doesn't explain the intensity of this emotional involvement. Why did Nightmare inspire me so much, and still do today? Because very often MAIS CHIOTTE DE SES MORTS QU'IL ME SAOULE BORDEL DE SCROGNEUGNEU?! (Untranslatable in English, sorry QwQ)

And then I realised.

"The two siblings"...

Doesn't this story remind you of another?

I don't know why, but I get the impression that NOBODY makes this obvious parallel. At least I've never seen any comparative fanart or people talking about it.

The majority of Dreamtale fans are first and foremost Undertale fans, who went through the Gameplay, Let's play's, etc. before discovering the AU's. The majority have played or watched the game and discovered the Lore. Listened to the OSTs. Enjoyed the characters.

The majority witnessed the magnificent end of the Pacifist Timeline and the ensuing burst of tears.

And who, for God's sake, has never been touched by Asriel's fate? This child who died far too soon, who never meant any harm to anyone, who died because of a bad decision, then was resurrected as a sadistic, soulless being incapable of love?

Don't you think Night looks a lot like him? And that Dream is a cross between Frisk and Chara?

Not in personality, nor necessarily in the story, but in the way they touche the audience through their shared destiny.

Two siblings who love each other dearly are brutally separated by a quarrel in which one loses his life, transformed into a powerful, emotionless demon. The other sleeps for years before waking up, lost and confused... Then they embark on an adventure with a guide, discover the world that has evolved without them, grow up, meet new people, help, save.

And this co-dependent relationship. The demon is still a child at heart. He wants to play with his sibling, even to the point of committing atrocious acts to make them stay with him, even if it means taking their soul and killing them a million times over. But nostalgia takes hold of him again. Deep in his overpowering heart, he feels all the souls of the world bound together, he feels determination of monsters and humans, the love they have for each other. It's all too much for him. He succumbs to his feelings and bursts into tears. He apologizes. The two siblings reconcile.

It's the kind of story we'd all like to give Dream and Nightmare, isn't it?

We want to save Night.

But like Asriel, it's impossible. We all know by now that Corrupted Nightmare isn't Night, don't we? It's a revelation that hits us when we search a bit on the creator's Tumblr after reading the Prologue. The story leaves us no choice: he died five hundred years ago, and that remains unchanging. There is no hope.

He has to go. Become corrupt again. He has to die again. Because that's how it must be.

Yeah yeah, we love Sans in Undertale, he's pretty cool and the Multiverse revolves around him. But as soon as we play the game, it's Asriel we're crying for. For good reason, Dreamtale, the story that most closely resembles his tragedy, is one of the most popular universes. Is that chance? Or have we all unconsciously drawn the parallel?

Now, when I listen Hopes and Dreams, Save the World, His Theme, one part of me thinks of Asriel and Chara, the other part thinks of Dream and Nightmare.

It was to save Asriel that fans started developing parallel universes. And it's to save Night that we're repeating the process.

It would have been a lot cooler to put Dream and Nightmare in Chara and Asriel's bodies, I think.

And the HELL you imagine CORRUPTED NIGHTMARE WITH THE APPEARANCE OF FULL-POWERED ASRIEL ????

Damn, I would have fan-girled instead of foe-girl on him I guess 🤔

Or for those who love big, ugly monsters, in PHOTOSHOP FLOWEY mode!

Delightfully nightmarish, I approve 👌✨!

____________________________________

Je viens de comprendre un truc.

À propos de Dreamtale. Pourquoi on est autant touché par cet AU, et par les jumeaux.

Je viens de comprendre pourquoi Nightmare est aussi populaire, pourquoi il nous touche, pourquoi il ME touche alors que POURTANT, ce n'est pas mon personnage préféré comparé à Dream, Ace ou Error.

Parce qu'on s'identifie à ses problèmes ?

Oui.

Parce qu'on compatie à sa backstory ?

Certainement.

Parce qu'on aime le drama et les tentacules ?

...Meh, à coup sûr.

Parce que Dreamtale apporte une thématique symbolique extrêmement intéressante à propos des sentiments ?

Tout à fait.

Parce que le Fandom a développé l'histoire des deux frères sous toutes les formes et que nous avons été embarqués sans trop s'en rendre compte par les créations des fans, comics, dessins, fanfictions, que nous découvrons au fur et à mesure ?

Absolument.

Mais voilà, tout ça a le bénéfice de me convaincre, mais ça n'explique toujours pas l'intensité de cette implication émotionnelle. Pourquoi Nightmare m'a autant inspirée et m'inspire encore aujourd'hui ? Alors que très souvent MAIS CHIOTTE DE SES MORTS QU'IL ME SÂOULE BORDEL DE SCROGNEUHGNEUH ?!

Et c'est là que j'ai réalisé.

"Les deux frères"...

Cette histoire ne vous en rappelle-t-elle pas une autre ?

Je ne sais pas pourquoi, mais j'ai l'impression que PERSONNE ne fait ce parallèle pourtant évident. En tout cas je n'ai jamais vu de fanart comparatif ou de gens en parler.

La majorité des fans de Dreamtale est avant tout des fans d'Undertale, qui sont passés par le jeu travers le Gameplay, le Let's play, etc. avant de découvrir les AU's. La majorité a joué ou regardé le jeu et découvert le Lore. Écouté les OST. Apprécié les personnages.

La majorité a été témoin de la magnifique fin de la Timeline Pacifiste et de l'éclat de larmes qui en découle.

Et qui, bon sang mais qui, n'a jamais été touché par le destin d'Asriel ? Cet enfant mort bien trop tôt qui n'a jamais voulu de mal à personne, mort à cause d'une mauvaise décision, puis ressuscité en un être sadique et sans âme, incapable d'aimer ?

Vous ne trouvez pas que Night lui ressemble énormément ? Et que Dream serait le mélange de Frisk et de Chara ?

Pas dans la personnalité, ni dans l'histoire forcément, mais dans la manière dont il touche le public par leur destin commun.

Deux frères qui s'aiment énormément sont brutalement séparés par une dispute où l'un perd la vie, transformé en un démon surpuissant et dénué de sentiments. L'autre dort des années durant avant de se réveiller, perdu, confus... Puis il se lance à l'aventure en compagnie d'un guide, découvre le monde qui a évolué sans lui, grandit rencontre de nouvelles personnes, aide, sauve.

Et cette relation co-dépendante. Le démon est encore un enfant au fond de lui. Il veut jouer avec son frère, au point de commettre des actes atroces pour rester avec lui, même s'il doit s'emparer de son âme et le tuer un million de fois. Mais la nostalgie s'empare à nouveau de lui. Il sent au fond de son cœur trop puissant les âmes liées entres elles, il sent leur détermination, l'amour qu'ils ont les uns pour les autres. C'est beaucoup trop pour lui. Il succombe à ses sentiments et éclate en larmes. Il s'excuse. Les deux frères se réconcilient.

Belle histoire qu'on a tous envie de donner à Dream et Nightmare, pas vrai ?

On a envie de sauver Night.

Mais comme Asriel, c'est impossible. Nous savons tous à présent que Nightmare Corrompu n'est pas Night, n'est-ce pas ? C'est une révélation qui nous percute quand on cherche un peu sur le Tumblr de la créatrice après avoir lu le Prologue. L'histoire ne nous laisse aucun choix, il est mort il y a cinq-cents ans et cela reste immuable. Il n'y a aucun espoir.

Il doit s'en aller. Redevenir corrompu. Il doit mourir à nouveau. Parce que c'est comme ça que ça doit se passer.

Oui, on aime Sans dans Undertale, il est vachement cool et le Multivers tourne autour de lui. Mais dès qu'on joue au jeu, c'est pour Asriel qu'on pleure. Pour cause, Dreamtale, l'histoire qui ressemble le plus à sa tragédie, est l'un des univers des plus populaires. Un hasard ? Ou bien avons-nous tous fait inconsciemment le parallèle ?

Maintenant, quand j'écoute Hopes and Dreams, Save the World, His Theme, une part de moi pense à Asriel et Chara, l'autre part pense à Dream et Nightmare.

C'est pour sauver Asriel que les fans ont commencé à développer des univers parallèles. Et c'est pour sauver Night qu'on réitère le processus.

Ça aurait été vachement plus cool de mettre Dream et Nightmare dans des corps de Chara et Asriel je pense.

Et bordel vous imaginez NIGHTMARE CORROMPU AVEC LA FORME D'ASRIEL FULL-POWER ????

Ah bah j'aurais peut-être fan-girlé au lieu de foe-girler pour le coup 🤔

Ou pour ceux qui aiment les gros monstres pas beaux, en mode PHOTOSHOP FLOWEY !

Délicieusement cauchemardesque, j'approuve 👌✨!

#undertale au #undertale #dreamtale #nightmare sans #night sans #asriel #asriel dreemuur #asriel and night #SOMEONE MAKE A NIGHTMARE!ASRIEL FANART PLEASE !!!! #Wait no if I fan-girl on him I will loose my honor... #FUCK OFF MY HONOR DO IT #flowey #photoshop flowey

[34saveme34]

SMG4 sim review + Idk things funny

this is gonna be. unorganised. witness !

he sleeps with starving pou good for him

dumb hobo knockoff.......... where have I heard that before...........

interesting he's getting called a knockoff though!

some violence today I see!

he barely just woke up and is already going right in to Meme

I mean, I. respect the grind but. damn

one could say.... it's going to be perfect? Huh SMG4?

Hey that's. pretty early! Uhm. wow

he's REALLY going for the grind huh?

Also I posted before the "plan out shit vs make up shit" and man I love it for him honestly, he really does feel like someone who likes to go with the flow

and I'll say his video was pretty charming! Although it is once again Hamburger. saying once again because of his phone apparently like, having a hamburger folder full of hamburger pictures. I don't remember which episode it was at this point

very intensive meme making btw. puts his whole memeussy into it or whatever. sorry I said that, I won't delete it though. you have to read it

HE IS SO INSECURE "it should be funny" BRO, YOU'RE THE MEME MACHINE THE FUCK YOU MEAN SHOULD

CMON

me for real. me when I post something stupid and wonder if people will like it. I'm so SMG4 in this moment

his number 1 hater...... even after all this time..... what is this if not true love?

okay but genuinely so interesting. He was working hard on a video and it got disliked and 3 also called it shit

Idk I'm just, whenever 4's insecurity in his videos come up, I get reminded of his little "nobody loves me unless I am meming good" episode

especially with 3 being involved here

I bet he actually chuckled once but decided to say that anyways because he doesn't want to feed 4's non existent ego

anyways the fact, the FACT that after 3 tells him his video sucks he dies?? I know that they probably weren't going for it but it really does feel like he really REALLY cares about what 3 thinks of his stuff

it's almost like he wantst to prove himself to 3 that he can make stuff beyond 3's imagination, which is, kind of gay

can.... can this be counted as him using his guardian powers? I mean, it IS meme related even if for his video

I wonder what else can he do. I also wish we could see more moves and stuff where both of them are needed. like sure, we got the wotfi 23 fusion move but other stuff we really only saw them working by themselves

forced to hold hands doesn't count because they didn't really. use their powers there so

so disrespectful to his boyfriend..... come on man. you know he is worth millions. and his kisses for you billions

also find it really interesting that he seems to be the brightest here, like lighting wise

I wonder if he got in there because he actually LOVES being involved in 4's videos. Like, nobody else did, all the other stuff were memes

it was only 3 who wasn't, which I think especially justifies his weirdly coloured outline

I wonder, maybe, he was counted as negative points because he's not a meme

or maybe it's a bit of a throwback at the idea that he can't be funny

I just love this shot. this is so me core, I'm so like this, I'm saying this all the time

this looks so cursed

also kinda funny the ice cream seems to replenish him more than a watermelon

I mean- at least his eating isn't complete wack?

into the deep pocket you go, child

Now, let me say something controversial. I think, if 4 got over himself, he would like some fanfics. like ASMRs already like, especially this type of thing he's listening to hold a cringe factor

a cringe factor outsider people also associate with fanfiction. I'm just saying, I think he would read angst fanfics. He would read them and feel really sad but would be too ashamed to tell anyone about it

This is also supported by the fact that he likes dating sims. I don't know what his exact type is in all of this but he definitely enjoys sappy, romantic stuff. All of it. If he wasn't scared of people judging him, he would be so so SO indulgent. I think this is one of the reasons he likes hanging around Boopkins. I think he might even envy his ease of showing his interests in even the most indulgent stuff without caring what others think

you should've comforted him. Anyways why are you here, there's no way that much time passed. you're here at like 7 AM. Do you just live here 3? You also said in wotfi 23 prep stream that you have your credit card linked to 4's pc!!! you're not beating the living together allegatins, 3!!!!!!!!

although really interesting he gets his stuff together over 3's comment

he lost it at 3's words, he collected his shit together over 3's words

again, what is this if not true love in plain sight?

Really loved the fnaf bit, though Mario smashing his PC was kinda Eh

especially cuz he got punished for it

can't even be attention seeking around 4 because he's just gonna freak out and call you a distraction

and he like memes all the time which means you could become a distraction to him VERY often

lowkey makes me think 3 doesn't like to bother with some stuff because of that, like i just KNOW he wants to hang out more

like CMON

hey that's his silly little music player from last episode!

the bootleg 3 plushie in his inventory!!

a little gay I'll say

what ya lookin so crazy for!!!!!!

maybe the only fans option wouldn't have failed you like the sponsorship did

I mean at least the merch worked

which uh.....

not to be like that but my mind went catboy 3

ME !!! ME FOR REAL

by the way this once again shows how fluid and stupid fame is in the SMG4 videos

or this is like a sly sign at 4 falling off again and trying to hide his insecurity!!! I don't want that

I hope that this is just a bit that doesn't get brought up again, we don't need It's gotta perfect 2 I think

anyways that's it for the episode! Overall fun honestly

would be interesting to see videos like this with other characters as well, considering it shows an insight into the character's brain

for example here, I could tell that 4 has problems and is also still quite insecure, though that's not something that can just change so easily soooo

yeah

overall real fun though I'm left desiring a normal episode

#smg4 #Nicc-thinks