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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

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Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

A continuation of Bad News First, Eddie. I am absolutely floored by the responses I received, and I will try my best to tag everyone who asked. I know it's not Eddie's part, but chronologically, Wayne's part felt right.

Of all the things Wayne’s been called, unobservant isn’t one of them. He’s lived in Hawkins his entire life. He knows who is who, what is what, and to keep his head down and believe there’s a cougar in the woods when he’s told.

So, when Nancy Wheeler shows up, asking questions, Wayne has answers. Is willing to give those answers because he remembers when little Will Byers went missing, and how Nancy and her friends had done more to try and find him than the entire police force of Hawkins. Nancy and her friends always seemed to be in the orbit of whatever terrible thing was happening in Hawkins these last few years.

So, foolishly, terribly, he doesn’t intervene. He thought they were like that Scooby Doo cartoon Eddie used to love; kids solving mysteries. If he’d known the true extent of the horror, he wouldn’t have let those kids go it alone. But he didn’t know then.

Still didn’t know the day he pretends to not know who Dustin Henderson is while swapping out Eddie’s missing poster. It’s easier than having to face someone who knows Eddie, someone who had been looking for him but failed to find him.

Until Dustin calls after him. Until Dustin speaks to him. Hands him Eddie’s necklace. Wayne can’t stand anymore, this breaks him. Dustin says he was with him, in the end. Calls Eddie a hero, said people would have loved him had they known him. It’s nothing Wayne doesn’t already know.

Eddie is his hero. He loves Eddie. And if he’d stepped in sooner, chased down these kids and asked just what the fuck was happening, maybe he could have changed the ending of this story.

Hawkins explodes into a hellscape days later and Wayne sets out to find Nancy Wheeler. If Eddie gave his life to protect these kids, then Wayne must strive to do no less.

Nancy’s got a good head on her shoulders, willing to accept any help offered. He can see how she’s survived this long. She gets in in touch with Hopper, who introduces him to Doctor Sam Owens and Lt Colonel Jack Sullivan.

He doesn’t think it’s fair that the fate of the world rests on the shoulders of a fourteen-year-old girl.

It’s Dustin who tells him the whole story, the night before the end. Either Eleven will win tomorrow, or she won’t, but the outcome gets decided then.

“I’m s-so sorry, Mr. M-Munson. We just… just left him there!” Dustin breaks down crying and Wayne reaches out to him, an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. If Wayne sheds a few tears, too, well. Who can blame him?

“Doctor Owens, a word,” Wayne pulls the man aside after the kids have gone to bed. “Dustin said… my boy is just yards away from our trailer. He didn’t even get out of the park. I understand it’s an all hands on deck situation, but can anyone be spared? Can anyone bring my boy back? I’ll go myself if I have to.”

Doctor Owens, a genuinely kind man, Wayne can tell, has tears filling his eyes just at the request. “Mr. Munson, we will do everything in our power to bring your boy home.”

Doctor Owens pays for the headstone. Said it was the least he could do since his team failed. Wayne tries not to be bitter about it.

The graffiti starts up almost immediately. Wayne doesn’t understand why.

He thinks he’s caught someone in the act, grabs roughly at the perpetrator and yanks. The Harrington boy stumbles up and back, a little bit of fear in his eyes but no paint in hand. He’s holding a rag and small container of paint thinner. A quick look between Harrington and the grave, he can see the half-cleaned headstone.

He’s never spoken much with Harrington, but Dustin has nothing bad to say.

“You know my boy?” because he can’t bring himself to say ‘knew’ just yet.

Harrington looks just about as haunted as Wayne feels when he says, so quietly, “Not as well as I would have liked, sir.”

Wayne is observant, but even he can admit it takes longer than he thought to figure out Steve Harrington. That boy had put himself between those kids and danger again, and again, and again, and lived. Eddie did it once and… well, Wayne reckons Steve thinks it should have been him. He won’t say so out loud, but Wayne sees a lot of his younger self in Steve, knows him in much the same way he knows himself.

Steve lives with a guilt he shouldn’t; this was Eddie’s choice. His reckless, dangerous, courageous choice. And they’ve got to learn to live with it. Steve’s parents are absent, and Wayne’s nephew is gone. Without any conscious decision about it, they’ve adopted each other.

Steve wants to know everything about Eddie. Every little story Wayne can come up with. And he, well, he loves that someone wants to know. Wants to remember Eddie with him.

“Bad news. I regret not knowing him sooner,” Steve confesses to him one day as they scrub the headstone clean again.

“Good news. You know him now,” Wayne replies.

“Do I?”

Wayne can’t answer that. Not honestly one way or another. How well can you know someone from secondhand information? Steve spent a total of five days in his nephew’s company but he helps keep his memory alive. “I don’t know. What I do know is that Eddie Munson won’t be forgotten when I die. And that matters.”

He gets in an accident at the plant. He doesn’t remember what happened, not fully, but he knows that Steve never left his side. Demanded his come stay in his big empty house. Easier to move around in, with all the open space.

Wayne wasn’t really attached to his apartment anyway. If he was going to live the rest of his life in a home that had never known Eddie’s presence, it could at least be with someone who had known Eddie’s presence, however briefly.

Wayne wonders if he’s done the right thing sometimes. Indulging Steve’s need to know Eddie. At first, he thought it was fine, because learning about Eddie seemed to alleviate Steve’s guilt. But now.

He’s watching the boy fall in love with a ghost.

Helping it happen, even.

Robin and Steve aren’t nearly as quiet or subtle as they think, and Wayne’s observant. They seem to forget that Wayne’s just old, and not deaf and blind.

Or maybe, they’re comfortable enough that they don’t truly hide from him.

And it hurts his heart to think this (because he’s thinking it about his Eddie, wonderful, loving Eddie) but Steve deserves to love more than a ghost.

And then the kids graduate. Start to go to college. Steve acts fine, but he’s not. Wayne knows. It’s like he’s losing his purpose, but Wayne’s just as broken. Not strong enough to push Steve away. To make Steve go, too.

Honestly, he’s a little afraid that if he tried, then Steve would follow right after Eddie.

So, he doesn't. He decides he needs Steve, and perhaps even more so, Steve needs him.

Then, five years after Eddie’s death, the call happens. It’s about his piece of shit little brother, Wyatt. He’s gotta go, though. Because this is one last strand of Eddie. Eddie’s mother has been gone longer than Eddie, and fuck, Wyatt deserves to know. Wayne doesn’t claim to be a saint; if his brother wasn’t being released, he’d probably never tell him. He’d let him die in that prison believing his son is alive.

He doesn’t even know if Wyatt will care that Eddie’s gone. But he’s got to find out.

Steve drives him to the airport and no matter how many times Wayne says he’s coming back, Steve doesn’t seem to believe him.

But it’s not his shitty little brother waiting to greet him in Tennessee. It’s Eleven.

“Sorry for the lie, Mr. Munson,” she says. “I wanted to tell you as soon as I learned but Doctor Owens said that, this one time, we needed to be right before we could be honest.”

It’s Eddie. It’s Eddie Wyatt Munson, who looks at him shyly, almost as if afraid, from the apartment doorway Eleven takes him to. “Hey Uncle Wayne.”

It’s five fucking years too late but he pulls Eddie in a bone crushing hug. “I love you so much, you little bastard. Don’t you ever, ever do this to me again.”

Wayne learns.

They had found him, barely alive. It was better, they said, to take him away. Let the town cool down while Eddie healed, but he was catatonic for the better part of these last five years.

“Eddie woke up empty,” Eleven says softly, apropos nothing sitting next to Wayne as they watch Eddie discuss next steps with Owens. “He could be told to do things. Drink this. Eat that. His eyes never focused on anything. Doctor Owens called him a shell. I asked what that means. He said that Eddie’s body worked, but his mind did not because Eddie was not in his own mind anymore. But I knew he was in there. I had to get him back.” She reaches a hand out, waving in the general direction of Eddie’s head.

This surprises Wayne. “You brought him back?”

“Memory by memory,” Eleven says, picking at her pants leg. “Even the painful ones. Doctor Owens says every memory shapes who we are, even tough ones.”

Wayne looks at Eleven, a young woman of nineteen now, but remembers how scared and brave she’d been at fourteen. “Words cannot express how thankful I am for you.”

“I did it for you. And maybe a little bit for me.”

Wayne makes a humming noise. Not truly questioning, but an acknowledgment of what she said. If she wants to share her reasons, he won’t stop her. He’s just not going to pry.

“I chose my friend. I chose Max.”

He knows. “You made the right choice.”

“I know. I am not guilty about it,” she frowns as she thinks about her words. “But Dustin is my friend, too, and I knew Eddie was his friend. But I cared more about Max. I had to do all I could to make it right. For you. For Dustin. For me.”

Wayne doesn’t have words, so he just pulls Eleven into a hug. It must convey all he needs because when she pulls back, she beams at him.

Wayne fills Eddie in on what has happened as best he can. It’s such a jarring difference, speaking to Eddie about Steve than it had been speaking to Steve about Eddie. Eddie just looks confused for most of it and doesn’t really ask followup questions, but Wayne understands. Eddie had known Steve for five days and he’s got time to really get to know Steve now. Steve thought all he’d ever have of Eddie is someone else’s memories.

“Just give him a chance, Eddie,” Wayne says.

“Give him a chance? As if I’d waste it,” Eddie breaths out, all wonder and awe and- Well, maybe Wayne isn’t as observant as he had always thought. “He took care of you when I couldn’t. He cares. I don’t think there’s a chance I wouldn’t give him.”

“How long have you had a thing for Steve?”

Eddie stutters over his words, eyes wide and wild. “That’s not- why would you think- when have I ever!?”

“You think I wouldn’t know this about you?” Wayne chuckles and lies, as if he hadn’t just watched all the pieces slot together in this moment.

“So, we’ll be living with Steve Harrington?” Eddie is blushing but he blows past Wayne’s question. “Will he… be okay with me being there?”

Steve’s been loving a ghost, is what Wayne thinks. Steve’s been in love with a ghost and this. This is a ghost story that can have a better ending. But he’s not going to make those declarations for Steve, so what he says is, “yeah. Steve and I had each other when we needed it. Now I need you, so Steve won’t mind at all.”

Eddie smiles to himself, pulling a strand of his hair to hide his face behind.

If he hadn’t just figured it out two minutes ago, that would have been a dead giveaway that his boy might be a little bit in love with Steve.

He calls Steve. Tells him he’s coming home and bringing a guest. Steve says that’s fine, he’ll fix up Robin’s old room into a guest room.

“This isn’t the way to the Harrington house,” Eddie observes from the passenger seat of the rental car Doctor Owens had paid for, to get them from Indianapolis back to Hawkins.

“Steve won’t be there. He comes here when he’s overwhelmed.”

“The cemetery?”

Wayne shrugs, “we both come talk to you. Steve always starts with the bad news, you know. I think you should start with good news. Just this once. Ah. See, there he is.” Wayne points and Eddie’s eyes follow.

Something akin to wonder passes over Eddie’s face and he all but falls out of the car before it’s even stopped.

Wayne thinks he’ll give them five or so minutes before following.

#steddie #wayne munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #ok i promise next update will be eddie pov #i just wanted eddies part to move past this graveyard meetup #so waynes pov first #also eddies part could end up being the longest and more difficult part

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broadwaytheanimatedseries · 5 months

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Obsessed with the set up and payoff in every hatchetverse show:

TGWDLM hides it in its comedy pretty effectively: "take out the head, and the whole thing goes down!" The key to the main conflict buried in a nonsense monologue by the one note jerk character

Black Friday takes full advantage of their magical psychic child to be cryptic and ominous: "two doors not one" probably being the most obvious example, but a notable one is "Cross" as I think it's not just about Wilbur but also about Lex, who reaches across the threshold into the black and white

(Admittedly, that last bit is probably a strecth)

And NPMD drops all pretenses and leans into the horror of a doomed narrative by telling you exactly what it's about: "it's true! Human sacrifices! Demonic rituals! Sex magic!" All promises fulfilled by the summoning and the subsequent bargain made between Grace and The Lords In Black.

Then there's like, chronologically reversed foreshadowing? Okay so like what I mean by that is like, so you know the Hatchetmen?

Yeah, the angry mob that killed the Waylons and their starry children cultists?

You ever notice how they're never praised? Never honored or spoken of fondly?

Oh sure the town is named after them, but that's probably because they were the only ones around left to name it, and they named it after that time they did that murder together.

But they keep being referred to as hatchet wielding maniacs, even as they are recalled as the ones who put a stop to an evil cult it doesn't change the fact they weren't good people either.

There are no good guys in that story, not really.

And uh, how did Ted put it again, exactly?

"There are no creeps. There are no heroes. There are only people who are alive, and people who are fucking dead!"

Hatchetverse is really fucking good at fulfilling narrative promises, is what I'm saying, I guess.

#dee writes #starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #Hatchettfield trilogy #tgwdlm #black friday #npmd #ted spankoffski #he really became the mvp of this post #call me T'noy Karaxis #the way I be shaking Ted around in his little box

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verm1c1de · 7 months

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Zims entire personality is completely fabricated

Let me explain.

Zim, as we know him, is just a mask made up by.. well, Zim.

Zim doesn’t exist.

Because Zim, at his most genuine, loves.

And Zim is not supposed to love.

It’s been thrown around throughout the entire course of the series that Zim is, in fact, a very intelligent individual. Moreso than irkens, renowned technology-thieves, are known to be. It’s for this fact, that it would make sense, that Zim would not be completely ignorant of how the rest of Irken society views him.

The defect, the worst irken to ever exist, et cetera.

There’s no way to be that obtuse about your own infamy, and if there is, there’s enough hints and clues in the series to allow viewers to come to the conclusion that Zim isn’t unaware of it all.

And no, this is not a “Zim is a genius and knows absolutely everything” post. He’s definitely gullible. He absolutely has the worst priorities, he doesn’t know when to quit, too stubborn and set in his own beliefs, but he does Know a lot more than he lets on.

Multiple instances of Tallest Purple nearly revealing the truth about Zim’s mission or being too careless with his words are brushed away, either spoken over by Red or ignored completely by Zim, as if he didn’t hear it at all. Similarly, Sizz-Lorr exists as tangible evidence of everything wrong with Zim’s falsified identity as an invader. He shows up for one episode and that episode introduces some of the most important building on Zim’s coding and the consequences derived from his destructive actions on Irk. And his response to this, is to flat out deny it. Because with Purple, he has the expectation to not be aware. With Sizz-Lorr, everything he’s done is laid out in front of him, forcing him to acknowledge it. He won’t.

Zim, at his most genuine, is paranoid.

Paranoid enough to fabricate an entire personality from nothing after having the entirety of Irken knowledge downloaded into his PAK, only minutes after having been freed from his tube.

Zim is a bootlicker. Zim couldn’t care less about the Tallest. Zim seeks absolution from the Tallest because he knows that he was Made Wrong and that the things he’s done are unforgivable, but he can’t help himself. Zim only goes out of his way to gain their attention because he knows that’s what the average irken desires. All of these are true.

Zim is only drawn to invading in the most superficial way possible for an irken. He enjoys the idea of invading, not because it is personally "appealing" to him in any sense of the word, but because he knows that it is for others. It's an esteemed title. An invader gets to have respect. An invader gets to be addressed directly by the Tallest.

Being an invader is the best thing. Not for him, but for his act.

He needs the act. The act will save him from his imperialistic society. The act is the worst thing to ever happen to him.

Zim is nothing without it. He’s nothing with it.

He hates the act.

(“Hey, you’re a worse flier than I am!”)

And it’s very, very likely that he hates himself because of it. Much more than anyone else could ever hate him, because their hate for him is as superficial as his allegiance to the Empire is.

Zim does not fit in on Irk because Irk doesn’t need a Zim. Irk doesn’t need an irken soldier whose sole identity is to destroy.

Which is why Zim fits in so much better on Earth as its villain. On Earth, he gets to be a part of the story, not a fool that has to force himself on stage to even have some semblance of a spotlight.

Zim was already firmly set into his role before arriving to Earth; but coming there, and meeting Dib, further instills Zim with the drive to keep it up. Dib exists to be a hero, after all! And heroes need their villains. Zim fits into that role perfectly. And of course Zim, being nothing BUT a role, is drawn to it. He'll feed into Dib's alien obsession because Dib's alien obsession fits into Zim's "character". The big bad guy that needs to be fought against.

Which makes sense.

If he's the big bad that everyone hates, he doesn't have to worry about wondering if anyone loves him, because he knows they don't.

His first words were “I love you.”

The Zim we know does not love.

The Zim we know is nothing but an elaborate, one-irken act, stuck playing the same role in the same show for as long as he draws it out for.

One which would collapse if anything ever brought attention to it.

this post would not have been made without the help of @short-and-ugly and @animatorfun. seriously. like they wrote it. they were my editors.

this is NOT a headcanon post, im for realsies. this is metatextual analysis. i genuinely believe this is what zims character is supposed to be ((even if not necessarily intentionally))

#iz #invader zim #zim #iz analysis #long post #very long post #vermi.txt #Zim Larp Theory #named soafter our google doc about it

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

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The Haunting Silence // Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha was your soulmate and she had done everything physically possible to keep you hidden and safe. Every day the two of you spoke through your mind using your soulmate connection but, what happens when suddenly Natasha's mind is silent?

Requested by: @southern-goth thank you for the request!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst (lots!), fluff, hurt/comfort, head injury, Sense 8 soulmates AU, Crying/Anxiety, threats of violence, protective Natasha, scissoring, oral sex, fingering, multiple orgasms

Words: 7.5k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Soulmates: two souls that are deeply connected and once successfully found, can communicate through their minds, no matter how far the location or language that was spoken. They were rare and many people were driven insane with the search to find their one true love but not you, you'd accepted years ago that there may never be the chance of ever finding her until fate was on your side.

It had been a beautifully mundane day. The movies like to show a romantic first meeting between two souls tied together from the depths of time, whether it be colliding in a coffee shop, running through the rain or even the hero saving someone from a villain. This was not anything like the start to your story, in fact, there were many details you couldn't remember.

Was it sunny? A Monday? Were you wearing jeans or leggings? You were completely unsure of any of these details but these were all menial with regard to the bigger picture no matter what day it was; it was the best day of your life as you met your soulmate. One minute your thoughts were your own, always described as 'hauntingly silent' by individuals who had already found their soulmates and thought back to the time before meeting their loved one.

Then the next, as you turned towards the exit of your work, your eyes hadn't even connected with her green eyes, still mesmerised by her lips as another silky voice echoed, "Oh", through your mind. It wasn't just this, as a warmth settled through your chest, not realising how empty you had been surviving through life until you finally found her, Natasha, your soulmate.

Natasha Romanoff had recently joined SHIELD when the two of you met but, she was honest about her alter ego Black Widow, as well as her past as an assassin which quickly helped to decide the dynamic of your relationship: a secret.

You were a nurse in a small hospital in the middle of nowhere, it was a surprise to you that Natasha had even found your workplace with it only being used by the locals. This fact actually aided with you being able to keep the relationship secret, you were a nobody in comparison to Natasha, no one would even look in your direction with suspicions or notice a hooded figure sneaking into your home in the middle of the night with your lack of neighbours.

At first, it had been difficult, you'd just found someone you wanted to spend every waking second with but she had to travel around the world and face dangerous missions constantly. However, thankfully with your soulmate connection, you could talk through your minds as long as you were both awake. Then as aliens attacked Earth and the Avengers were formed, you were happy to still be hidden, knowing that if anyone found out about you, they could use you against Natasha so a long-distance relationship it was.

Every single day, the two of you spoke, her words always feeling like being wrapped in a tight warm hug or when the tone changes, a seductive finger sliding down your spine.

Today, you were 5 hours into your shift at the hospital, finding a spare moment to wander down an empty corridor, hugging a report to your chest as a smile widened across your face.

You aren't lying to me, are you? your words were teasing towards Natasha but had every undertone of seriousness behind them.

Natasha had to hide her smile behind the microphone of the headpiece she wore as she was currently flying the Quinjet on the way back from a mission with the Avengers. Why would I lie to you, Milaya?

Your heartbeat quickened at the use of her nickname for you, Milaya, translating to darling, a name that often had you feeling safe and warm. It was also an easy way for Natasha to distract you from your questioning so you shook your head and tried to remain on track with your mind communication.

Please tell me, you encouraged, trying to find out if your soulmate had earned any injuries on this mission.

I'm fine, it's only a scratch on my wrist. - and bruised ribs to match the deep purple shade forming along her jaw where some asshole managed to punch her in the face, but you didn't need to know about that Natasha decided. You were at work and didn't need the distraction.

Hmm fine, I'll believe you for now but I'm going to see if you're lying when you get here in 2 days' time, you responded trying to sound slightly doubtful, having had this conversation with the red-haired assassin far too many times before.

Natasha's mouth quipped into a soft smile that she didn't bother to hide, eyes softening as she looked across the extensive view of clouds. 2 days seemed like such a long time to you both, her stomach twisting uncomfortably thinking about the wait as she decided, I'll try and visit sooner.

Don't rush baby, I would love to see you but please rest. It had been nearly two weeks since you had been able to hold or kiss Natasha and it was almost like you craved to be with her, needing to smell her hair, stroke her bare skin - you were going insane without her around. However, you couldn't help but feel bad that she felt the need to rush to be with you, she was so busy on these missions, hardly eating, sleeping and having to be at peak physical performance at all times. She was doing the very most and travelling across the country to see you whereas you had to sit pretty and wait for her, yes you worked full-time at the hospital but it was hard to compare your fatigue to Natasha's.

I just want to be with you, Natasha finally admitted, her voice losing the confident tone she had been trying to uphold for your benefit.

Your steps slowed to a stop as you stared at a crack in the concrete floor, I want to be with you too. You sighed out loud, wiping a hand down your face before trying to continue the conversation. Where are you at the moment?

Natasha swallowed the lump forming in her throat, the sudden overwhelming sensation to cry needing to pass as she was still surrounded by her friends in the Quinjet who had no idea she had found her soulmate all of those years ago. Looking at her coordinates, she replied, we are flying over Colorado at the moment.

You smiled slightly as you approached the door you had originally been planning on visiting in the hospital, the happiness felt through the bond that Nat could feel her chest warming. Oh, I've always wanted to visit Colorado, I've heard the--.

Silence.

Not the silence that came with being distracted and losing your train of thought but the sort of quiet that left an empty hole in Natasha's chest as she waited for you to finish your sentence but it never came. The assassin sat up further in her seat, heart beginning to pound violently behind her ribcage as the realisation dawned on her that the emotions she was experiencing were the haunting silence she felt before meeting you before there was ever a soulmate connection.

Milaya? Natasha asked into the void of her mind, but there wasn't any sort of response or emotions felt back. Even when you were asleep, Natasha could feel your calmness and sense of contentment through the bond but it was just...lifeless.

MILAYA?! The red-haired woman was screaming through her mind, frantically pulling off her headset as they felt suddenly claustrophobic, forest green eyes darting wildly around the multitude of buttons laid out before her on the jet's console.

Nat hadn't noticed that in her surge of anxiety to try and get you to respond, she had actually begun verbalising her nickname for you, which caught the attention of Tony who was sitting closest to her.

"Who? I'm not naming the jet that Nat, if- Woah". Tony's words were swiftly cut off as Natasha pushed past him, her mouth was painfully dry, eyes wide and unblinking with fear, the match the tremor that had settled in her hands as she grabbed the touchscreen computer typing in your hospital's location.

Her eyes moved faster across the screen than ever before. There was nothing, no reports of an attack, nothing that would be a reason for your bond to completely disappear. Next, she opened the local police scanners and reports but once more, there was nothing that reverted back to the hospital.

Every second that agonisingly ticked past, she continued to scream a mixture between your name and Milaya, hoping there would be some sort of a response but nothing seemed to come of it.

"Natasha? What is it?", it was Steve who was asking now. Natasha's erratic behaviour was quickly questioned by her colleagues and friends who all approached and watched with confusion as she continued to lose all control.

Clint pushed past the others, grabbing onto his best friend's shoulders, his eyebrows furrowing as a tear slipped from the woman's eye, sliding down her cheek. Looking over her shoulder towards the screen, he recognised the hospital name, him being the only person that Natasha trusted with your whereabouts.

"What is it?" Clint demanded.

"I... I can't hear her", Natasha's voice was quiet and displayed her distraught brokenness.

"Her? Who is her?" Tony asked.

"Tony, not now", it was Bruce this time who spoke up, having never seen Natasha lose her composure like this, something had to be seriously wrong.

Clint's hands moved to cup her cheeks, forcing her to look up at him, "Nat, I'm gonna need you to take a deep breath in for me and tell me what's going on."

Natasha removed herself from Clint's grip after taking one steady breath before turning back towards the computer screen, not bothering to wipe away the tears that she couldn't stop from falling as she attempted to log into the hospital's CCTV. From there, she rewound the feed to a couple of minutes ago and began to search through the corridors.

"Can someone explain what's going on, please?" Steve asked, more sternly than before, trying to find some answers that he wasn't getting.

However, the Black Widow wasn't listening, becoming even more panic-stricken with each passing second as she searched for you on the screen until finally, some air returned to her lungs as she found you walking down a deserted corridor, the footage a minute before the bond suddenly stopped. Natasha nearly smiled at seeing you there, even though she couldn't see the details of your face due to the low-quality cameras.

Tentatively, she, along with the rest of the Avengers, watched you walk down the corridor. Nat's eyes continued to glance at the time, watching it tick down as you approached the door at the end of the corridor, opened it and stepped in and then nothing as it was the time everything became silent. There were no further camera feeds in that room, you were simply there one minute and then something happened in the room and the bond was gone.

Natasha rested her head against the computer, closing her eyes to put all of her effort into shouting your name into the void in her mind but the only thing that responded was the silence and the disrupting shouting from the people around her was distracting.

"Everyone shut up!", she demanded with authority, thinking hard enough that it was beginning to form a migraine.

Glancing towards Clint, who looked just as worried as she felt, he asked, "Nothing? What about here?" he tapped against his chest, directly over his heart.

Natasha shook her head before a red suitcase caught her eye line. Taking a step towards Tony she demanded, "Give me the iron man suit".

Tony scoffed, "What? Not until you explain what's happening- wait what the fuck?!"

"GIVE ME THE SUIT!", Natasha had lost all composure, not thinking clearly, only thinking about you as a priority as she reached into her holster and within half a second, had her gun pointed towards Tony's head.

"Natasha, put the gun down, NOW.", Steve demanded, taking a step towards the billionaire like he was going to stand in front of the gun for his friend.

Nat began to cry, still mumbling, "Give me the suit Tony", the hand holding the gun still visibly shaking. Clin stepped directly in the path between the gun and Tony before Steve could, he held up his hands for good measure to show he didn't mean any harm.

"Nat listen to me", his voice was calm and low as he spoke, like he was talking to a frightened animal. "Even if you wear his iron man suit, I don't think you're in the right mindset to be by yourself so this is what's going to happen. You're going to lose the gun and I'm going to sit in the pilot seat and fly us to her, we'll be there in a couple of hours but you need to calm down right now, this jet is too small to be firing guns and you know it".

She knew he was right, thankful that she had a friend to talk some sense into her as she lowered the gun, nodding her head towards Clint who rushed to the seat she was just sitting in, placing the headset over his head. Returning the gun back into her holster and watching as Clint increased the speed of the jet, she suddenly jumped as Bruce began talking to her.

"How long has it been since you found her?" he offered her a warm drink that she hadn't noticed him pour for her. Of course, Bruce was the first to suss out what was going on. Nat held the warm drink in her hands and forced herself to drink it, even though the nausea she felt was overwhelming, she needed to try and keep calm.

"Before I knew any of you...except for Clint", Natasha admitted quietly, sitting in one of the seats surrounding the edge of the Quinjet.

Steve sighed heavily, sitting next to her, now understanding just what was going on.

"Wait, so you've had a soulmate this entire time and you didn't tell any of us?" Tony asked, sounding slightly disheartened by the news.

"I had...I NEEDED to keep her safe Tony. Do you really think our jobs don't come without any repercussions?" Tony shivered at Nat's words, thinking about the number of times his soulmate Pepper had been caught in the crossfire due to him being Iron Man. "Exactly. I can't lose her, she's... the only person I have and the only one I let get close to me, she's my only one and now, she's not answering my calls, something is wrong, I know it is".

The Avengers all nodded their head solemnly, understanding why she had reacted the way that she did. Tony sat opposite Nat, eyes full of remorse, "So is her name Milaya? That's what I heard you say earlier".

Natasha released a half-assed chuckle beneath her breath, "No that's just a nickname, her name is y/n", she allowed herself to smile for a split second, thinking about the first time she'd called you Milaya and how fond you were of it.

Then realisation dawned on her that this was really happening. Not only were you potentially in danger but now the Avengers also knew about you, could this potentially mean you didn't need to hide anymore? Shaking her head she left that thought for another time, needing to make sure you were ok first.

"Everyone strap in", Clint shouted over his shoulder, the jet beginning to reach it's maximum speed. Natasha attached the buckles around herself tightly, dropping her head back and continued to try and shout down the bond.

Clint landed in the near-empty car park in record timing much to Natasha's relief, who hardly waited for the doors to fully open before jumping down onto the tarmac. Even though the car park was bare for vehicles, there was still a scattering of people gathered around, visiting people in the hospital or using the facilities which meant, as the Avengers were suddenly in this forgotten-about town, it caught their attention quickly, shouts and whispers from every direction.

This didn't stop the group however as they followed Natasha into the building, her footsteps fierce and confident, face full of determination, all tears gone as anger replaced those feelings. There wasn't any immediate sigh of distress as they entered the building, and no sign of an attack still or police presence.

The reception lay straight ahead, and immediately, Natasha knew that it was the receptionist Bonnie behind the counter, someone you had talked about with affection on many occasions and it dawned on the assassin that she probably knew every professional in this small building.

Trying to not sound too aggressive but still holding the urgent tone, Natasha stopped before the counter, staring at Bonnie who looked up with comically wide eyes, glancing at each of the Avengers before looking back at Black Widow as she began speaking, "Y/N, where is she?"

Bonnie frowned in bewilderment, "Nurse Y/N? But how did you know-"

Natasha's heart dropped painfully as the receptionist seemed to confirm that something had happened. Beginning to lose her composure once more, her voice raised in noise level as she demanded, "Where is she? Is she even here? Did someone take her? Is she dead-?"

Bonnie quickly cut off Natasha's rant, standing from her seat with raised hands, "No! No she's not dead but something did happen earlier, let me take you to her".

She directed the group down a corridor, half running with how fast Natasha was trying to walk in front of her, ignoring the stares from the other patients and professionals. As they approached a series of windowed rooms, Bonnie began to explain what had happened.

"A ... a guy came in earlier, we think he snuck through the basement but he was caught stealing meds which were where Nurse Y/N was stationed and...she found him in the cupboard and he hit her hard across the head, by the time we found her, the guy was gone and she was unconscious on the floor. The doctors are still waiting for her to wake up was the last update that I had".

Natasha was reeling from the information, knees momentarily buckling but Clint was right behind her, hand under her arm to keep her upright and moving. You were alive, that was the information that alarmed through her mind, you were unconscious that was why she couldn't feel the concentration, it wasn't like you were asleep and could wake at any time, you'd been forcibly put to sleep, your body healing and cold.

Then there was the fact that someone had actually hurt and injured HER soulmate, right now, you were her priority but the second you were feeling better, nothing and no law would stop Natasha from hunting this guy down.

Suddenly Bonnie stopped in front of a large window that looked into a private room that had light filtering through the blinds causing an orange hue to shift across where you lay in the hospital bed in the centre of the room. There were a few machines scattered around that were monitoring your observations and a nurse recording the results standing next to the bed.

Natasha had to use every part of her training to try and hold back the audible sob that threatened to explode from her mouth as she didn't wait for permission to walk into the room. However, no one seemed to have the courage to even question the Avenger, all looking confused between her and the other heroes, nurses and healthcare assistants gathering to see what all the commotion was about.

The nurse turned, hearing someone else entering to room, her eyes widening just as exaggeratedly as Bonnie's and Natasha was quick to read his name tag, Chris. Internally she smiled knowing you were in good hands, Chris had a reputation at the hospital for his quality of care and that you and he were close friends, it must have been hard for him to then stay professional and give care for his friends.

"Is...Is she ok?" Natasha finally found her tongue to ask the Nurse, her green eyes wandering over every inch of your body. You looked almost peaceful, except for the fact that you were still in your Nurse tunic and there was a bandage plastered to your forehead.

A wave of nauseous anger rushed through Nat's body but she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Chris's full attention was now on the Avenger as he answered her question with a surprisingly sturdy tone considering he was talking to one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes. "She's had several stitches to close the injury, we found a metal pole next to her covered in blood so she took a strong hit. Thankfully there's no internal damage shown in the scans and she's yet to wake up but her observations have remained stable. Even if she wakes, she'll need to stay for a day or so to fully assess the damage."

The red-haired woman nodded, feeling somewhat relieved hearing this.

"Natasha?" Clint asked from the doorway having heard what Chris had said, waiting until the assassin turned towards him before continuing. "You good? We'll get out of here to give you some space just... keep in touch, will you? Let us know when she wakes up and-", his voice lowered dangerously low, "we'll find the guy".

Natasha nodded thankfully, even though she wanted to find whoever did this, the promising look in Clint's eyes she knew to trust that he had it covered. The rest of the Avengers shuffled back down the corridor, waving at the onlookers, thankfully taking the spotlight off of Natasha for a second as she attempted to step closer to you.

With no one there to hold her up, her knees buckled once more with overwhelming relief pulsing through her heart as she reached for your hand, her eyes filling with tears at the warm skin of your hand against yours, finally feeling grounded and connected to you.

Chris was quick to provide a chair for the Assassin, leaving the two of you and ushering away the spectators through the window, Natasha decided she would find him later to thank him for this.

"Oh Milaya," Natasha sighed as her face searched yours, hand gripping yours before stroking the back with his thumb.

The movement seemed to stir something with you as your fingers twitched in her grasp, a moan releasing from your mouth, eyes flicking beneath your still-closed eyelids. It almost felt like instinct for you to turn your head towards Natasha, feeling her presence there as the further you stirred, the mouth the empty hole in Natasha's chest filled with your bond.

"Natasha?" you whispered, voice thick and slurring slightly.

Nat brushed her other hand across your cheek, leaning down to lightly kiss the part of your temple that wasn't covered in bandages, mumbling "I'm here, baby". For this once, she absolutely didn't care who could see the two of you, Natasha allowed herself to be vulnerable for a moment, she thought she'd lost you, there was no way she was wasting another moment again.

A further hour passed before you moved again, sucking in a deep breath to properly fill your lungs and frowning, feeling something was off but not sure what. Blinking open your eyes, you flinched at the bright light that sent pain sparking across your head.

"Milaya?", Natasha whispered, careful to keep the noise down to not affect your sensitive senses. Her thumb brushed across your soft cheek, trying to help you arouse so she could see your pretty eyes.

"Nat?" you asked again, voice still sounding just as slurred and thick as before, "Am I dreaming?".

Eventually, your eyes opened, squinting against the orange light still pouring through the outside window. Even though the doctors had been giving you pain relief through your IV that was attached to the back of your hand that Natasha wasn't holding, you were still sensitive to the lingering concussion.

"There are those pretty eyes", Natasha praised as you looked at her hovering over you. "You aren't dreaming, you're ok, you're safe".

"What- What's going on?" you asked, feeling like something was wrong but not quite understanding just yet. You were confused and dazed still. Attempting to sit up, you frowned as your soulmate pushed against your shoulders, keeping you lying but you were only attempting to be closer to her.

"Hey it's ok, you don't need to get up, you need to rest", Nat encouraged, watching as you looked down at your body, observing the leads attached to various areas to monitor your observations, the cannula in your hand to the heavy feeling in your head, lifting said hand to brush over the soft material of the bandage on your head. Natasha cupped your hand and pulled it away from your injury, "Be careful my love, you've been hurt, don't touch it".

"I've been hurt?" you asked with confusion but the slur was very much still evident, you still need to rest and recover.

"Yeah, do you ... remember anything that's happened? Do you know what day it is?" Natasha asked, staring down worriedly at you.

You tried to think hard about today but your mind continued to be blank with delirium. "Uh... I don't remember anything. I feel like I'm floating through space", you admitted but then something dawned on you, even though you couldn't name what day it was, you knew you were at work, having been in this particular room hundreds of times and Natasha was definitely next to you right now, still dressed in her Black Widow uniform. Eyes flicking over her shoulder to the indoor window, you could see some of your colleagues walking around. "You're here! In front of everyone, they'll see you, Natasha!"

Natasha's eyes softened, hands coming up to cradle your face, "Shhh Milaya, I don't care that they've seen me. Baby, I thought you were dead." Her eyes dropped from yours to stare at your name tag that was clipped to your tunic, willing the heavy emotions to remain at bay, you needed to rest and she didn't want to make you more upset. "We were talking and then you were silent but usually, I can feel you even when you're asleep but there was nothing and I couldn't... I had to come here, I thought you were in danger, I mean, you were in danger! Apparently, some asshole was stealing med and you found him so he hit you with a metal bar".

"I'm sorry I scared you", you responded, feeling overwhelming guilt over the situation but still feeling completely dazed and out of it. "Will you stay?" you asked hopefully, reaching up to touch her cheek gently.

"I'm not leaving your side", Natasha confirmed.

"Good". The two of you stayed silent for a few minutes as the assassin returned to sitting in her seat, lifting your hand to place it back against her cheek so she could nuzzle into it. You smiled at her softness, something she didn't often like to display before something else caught your eye, your fingers nimbly grasping her chin to turn her head away from you so you could look at her chin, seeing the painful bruise there, "I thought it was just a scratch you got on this mission?" you asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, so you do remember somethings", Natasha smirked, referring to the conversation the two of you were having before you were attacked.

"Oh little bits," you admitted, "I bet we look like a right pair", you joked, eyes closing with heaviness suddenly exhausted.

"Get some sleep Milaya", Natasha muttered against the palm of your hand.

I love you, you spoke into the mind connection, feeling heat spreading across your chest with love.

Natasha had never heard such beautiful words before, sighing and leaning over before she could stop herself to kiss your lips softly, audibly whispering, "I love you too".

Thankfully, 24 hours later you were discharged and finally bombarded by your friends and colleagues that were swiftly brushed away by Natasha as she led you towards the exit, but she quickly admitted that her phone had been going off constantly from the Avengers, wanting to invite you over soon to be introduced.

It took Clint three hours to find the man responsible for the attack and had been keeping him in a secret holding for Natasha, not that the woman was rushing to leave your side any time soon.

The days passed by and you were forced to rest by both the Doctor and Natasha, who was quick to do anything and everything for you and you were more than thankful, the symptoms of the concussion taking longer than you'd anticipated to wear off.

Finally, you felt strong enough to climb out of bed, the smell of food being cooked coming from the kitchen had your stomach growling in hunger as you quickly had a shower, still careful of the plaster over your stitches but the massive bandage had been removed thankfully.

After dressing in only an oversized top and shorts, you smiled lovingly at the sight of Natasha in the kitchen, standing in dark joggers and a thin grey vest, her hands moving skillfully over the food that was cooking, toast popping up in the toaster.

You began to move forward with the plan to help her by buttering the toast, greeting her with a "Hello beautiful", and reaching for the knife and butter. However, your attempts were futile as Natasha snatched away the utensil.

"Nope, I'm doing that, go and sit down please", she began moving away from you, to continue with her cooking.

Rolling your eyes, you simply found another butter knife from the drawer and moved back to the toast, "I'm fine! I can butter my own toast, Natasha".

Once again, she simply removed the knife from your hand, shaking her head with a throaty laugh, "I'm looking after you so go and sit down".

"You have looked after me and I'm feeling almost normal except for the stitches", you admitted, pulling the toast over from the toaster and placing it onto the plate, moving closer to Nat to try and snatch the knives out of her hand but she held it at arm's length, still smirking. "You're relentless you know that?" you finally admit defeat, hand dropping to your side.

You watched her move for a moment, not planning on sitting down at all before stepping behind her as she stirred something in one of the pans. Your hands rested against her waist, fingers teasing along the hem of her vest to finally slip beneath and feel her warm, soft skin as your lips kissed along her exposed shoulder. You smiled against her, hearing the relaxed sigh escape her mouth.

"Hmm... and you are good at distractions", Natasha quipped over her shoulder, leaning into your touch.

"I've missed you," you admitted thoroughly, even though the two of you had been together for the last few days, due to you resting, you hadn't been able to be intimate and you missed her, especially being away for so long before the attack.

I've missed you too, Milaya. Natasha spoke through your mind, hands moving to rest over yours before turning slightly towards you. "But- I need you to eat first, your stomach growling woke me up this morning and I'd feel much more content knowing your belly as full before I take your clothes off".

You swallowed harshly at the end of her sentence, thankful that she wasn't fighting you on being intimate and you could deal with the request, kissing her mouth quickly before stepping back towards the table that was already set for the two of you to eat.

Sitting down, you watched mesmerised as she cooked, it looking almost like she was dancing around the kitchen, you knew you could never be as graceful as her but she also had extensive training which aided with her movements. Your core clenched though as her vest continued to ride up on her hips, exposing more of her stomach and you wanted nothing more than to lick the area.

"Having fun over there?" Natasha asked with a wicked smirk plastered on her beautiful face as she observed your wandering eyes and the shifting you were doing on the chair with your obvious arousal.

You bite your lip to hide your grin at being caught, not quite finding the words to respond that wasn't a request to take her clothes off so you distracted yourself by drinking the glass of water that was already placed on the table.

The two of you ate and chatted about Natasha's teammates, especially Tony who had sent about 50 invitations to you to join the numerous events that were coming up that the Avengers had to attend, hoping you would accept one so he could bombard you with questions.

You both had decided that you'd attend one eventually, increasing the security would be easier now as you didn't need to hide away. This new found freedom was exhilarating and you couldn't wait to walk down the street, holding her hand and showing everyone that she was yours.

Scrapping the plate clean and moaning at how good the food tasted, you stood to wash up the plates but once again, Natasha was grabbing the plates from your hands, moving over to the sink and placing them into the warm water.

"We can do that later", she informed, extending her slender hand for you to take and leading the way towards the bedroom. The two of you lay in the centre of the bed, your eyes were already heavy, you hadn't realised just how tired you were, with a full stomach and it had been the most you'd moved in days and had exhausted you quickly.

You felt bad having teased her and attempted to reach for her but she easily held down your arms, pulling your body against hers, fingers moving delicately across your scalp in a calming manner. "Get some sleep baby, I'll be here when you wake up".

When you finally woke, you were greeted with the peaceful sight of Natasha also sleeping, her features completely relaxed. Watching her for a moment, you carefully lifted your hand, attempting to tuck a strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear but in a blink, your hand was stopped in midair as Natasha gripped your wrist.

You grinned as she opened her eyes, "It's really creepy when you do that".

Natasha's plump lips tilted into a smirk, her eyes flicking across your face as she bought your wrist up to her mouth, kissing the sensitive skin on the inside that sent a shiver through your spine. "You love how quick I am, really", she teased, her voice completely sultry to match the darkening look in her eyes.

"I love everything about you", you countered, leaning closer, finally closing the gap between your lips. Both of you released a heavy sigh, breaths fanning across each other's faces at finally touching. Your skin burned instantly, feeling like there were tiny electric pulses coming from wherever your skin met and it always felt like that when it was with your soulmate, intense and powerful.

Natasha broke the kiss first but only to move down your cheek, on her own journey to reach your lobe, nibbling the sensitive flesh between her teeth that caused a deep moan to vibrate in your chest as your fingers reached for the thin straps on her shoulders, efficiently pushing them down.

"My Milaya", Natasha whispered against your ear, her fingers, pushing underneath your shirt to do their own exploration. Just before the tips of your fingers began to graze over her now exposed breasts, she pushed you fully onto your back, easily rolling on top, straddling over your abdomen her shoulder-length hair falling and framing her face as she leaned over you. "Let me make you feel good".

You mewled in response, admiring the beauty that she was, the way her lips parted and shined in the light, the straps dropped off of her shoulder that allowed for her vest to drop and reveal her perked breasts that were desperate to be touched. A finger slid under your chin as she looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"You're so beautiful Natalia", you praised, hoping your eyes showed as much affection as your words did. Natasha's shoulders visibly dropped with love at the use of her birth name before she was leaning over you and kissing you fiercely, desperately moving, tongue pushing and flicking against your own, both moaning as you could taste each other.

Your hips lifted trying to find some friction but ended up grinding against Nat who groaned at the contact, her fingers suddenly reaching to grasp the edges of her vest, pausing the kiss for a second so she could remove the offensive material before moving back down to your mouth.

It felt so good to have her chest naked, rubbing against your t-shirt, that she was willing to be so bare before you. Your fingers caressed down her spine first before pulling around to the front, grazing over her scars and careful of her still healing bruised ribs that didn't seem to phase Nat anymore as you finally cupped her tits.

You felt the weight of them against your palm, squishing the beautiful flesh before tweaking her pretty nipples, earning a grind down from Nat's hips on your abdomen. Smiling against her mouth, you knew she had ultra-sensitive nipples which only made it more fun to play with them, hearing the desperate little moans she would release.

Suddenly, you were left cold and reaching for more as Nat sat up, pushing her hair out of her face as she looked down at you, "take off your clothes", she demanded whilst climbing off of your lap to remove her joggers speedily. You did as instructed, first removing your shirt and then your underwear before lying back down and Nat was straight away straddling your body again.

With no layers of material between the two of you, her bare, noticeably wet cunt now lay against your abdomen. Your hands went to her hips to grind her hips further against you, making her rock her body against yours as she leaned down once more to kiss you, your breasts rubbing together as her pussy rolled against your stomach.

"I'm supposed to be making you feel good", Nat whispered breathlessly against your neck of which she had moved to leave open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin.

You chuckled, releasing her hip with one hand to reach between your bodies to play with her nipple again, feeling the vibration of her moan melt into where your chests touched. "You are making me feel good", you responded just as breathlessly, rubbing your thighs together and feeling how wet you were.

The assassin suddenly moved, half climbing down your body and moving one of your legs over her hip, lowering her hips and then her cunt was stroking against yours. The two of you moaned, and your eyes flicked between her now swollen parted lips and where her hips began rolling against yours, your clit brushing against yours, both of your juices mixing together.

You matched her movements, gripping onto the leg that she had positioned over yours still, your hips rolling with hers, both gasping and mewling as your clits were rubbed and swiped against each other.

"Feel so good baby", Natasha praised, her hand coming up to cup against your breast, massaging the flesh slowly to match the thrusting of her hips. Your head flung back as she tweaked your pebbled nipples as she pressed especially hard against your clit. "Do you like when I rub on you Milaya?" she asked you, feeling her cunt pulse with arousal at seeing you experience such pleasure.

"Yes, feel so so good", you groaned, also reaching up to play with her tits, before sitting up slightly and pulling her face down, kissing her desperately as you both chased your highs, clits still sliding against one another with how wet you both were.

You were so close, your core beginning to tighten as you began to chant her name like a prayer, needing and wanting her, begging not to stop as Natasha was responding with just as much desperation.

Your cunt then started fluttering as you came, hands gripping onto Natasha hard enough that you were sure to leave bruises but it just felt so good that you couldn't stop. Natasha continued her movements for a few further minutes, finding her own release with a beautiful gasp.

You had planned for her to catch her breath but she was moving before you could comprehend that she was, your legs being pushed back against your chest to expose your soaked cunt to her as she lay down on her stomach, eyes connecting with yours as her mouth dropped to your pussy.

She began by licking up everything you had spilt, moaning at the taste of yours and her juices, tongue pushing through your folds before teasing your hole that was still twitching to be filled. Your hands replaced hers with holding up your leg, of which she gave a long lick up your entire middle as a reward, now freeing up her hands. With one, she spread you open, giving her the perfect view of your clit and hole and then she was diving right in, her lips sealing around your clit and sucking whilst two of her powerful fingers pushed inside of you, curling instantly about your special spot.

"Oh my god- Natasha!" you moaned, and you could feel her smiling against your bundle of nerves at your reaction, seeing your eyes closed to concentrate solely on the pleasure that was being given you. This was all you had wanted for weeks, to be with her, spend time touching and pleasuring each other's bodies, feel the bond glowing and strengthening with the time spent together.

Natasha's skilled tongue and fingers drew a toe-curling orgasm out of you, your back arching to try and grind your hips on her face. She had been a master at work, her eyes never leaving your face as she watched you go through all the stages of pleasure.

You were then rolling the two of you over, and you wanted nothing more than repay her with your tongue but you still had to be careful of the stitches on your forehead. So instead, you used your fingers in her soaking cunt and your mouth sucked leisurely on her nipples which had her clenching around your fingers, your thumb stroking against her throbbing clit.

"Milaya, don't stop", Natasha cried out, hands clenching into the sheet below, her thighs shaking around your hand, a pink glow to her cheeks as she watched you move from one breast to the next. You didn't stop, wouldn't stop until she was cuming around you and the way her walls were becoming tighter, her breaths coming out in short bursts you knew it would be soon.

"Cum for me 'Tasha, wanna hear your moans", you encouraged after releasing her nipple for a second and then going straight back to sucking it harshly into the back of your mouth.

"Ah! Yes-!", Nat's eyes rolled back as she began quivering around your fingers and you didn't stop your movements, making sure to draw out every ounce of pleasure that you could, until her hips jolted through overstimulation.

Easing your fingers out of you, you quickly drew them to your mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of her before she was sitting up and kissed your lips. Her tongue stroked against yours and you could taste yourself on her, and you hoped she could do the same taste herself on your mouth.

Then you were both collapsing into the middle of the bed, limbs tangled together facing one another and trying to catch your breaths, sweat glistening off of your bodies. Smiling softly at her beautiful expression, feeling her thumb stroke near to your stitches, you asked, "what's going on in that head of yours?"

"I'm just thankful you're here with me, I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you", she admitted in nothing more than a whispering volume.

Reaching to take her hand in your own, you kissed her knuckles, feeling the scars beneath your lips, "You don't ever have to worry about that baby".

#natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha smut #marvel smut #marvel #natasha romanoff #black widow smut #black widow one shot #soulmate au #mine*

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xcherricutie · 1 month

Text

🪷 it's over, isn't it 🪷

[Lucifer Morningstar x Reader]

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four]

[Word Count - 2.4k]

[Tags: Angst, songfic, mentions of alcohol and drinking]

[Notes: I am just churning these out, these are so easy and fun to write lol]

It was an understatement to say you fell after everything. It was more like you crashed and burned, any semblance of a life in Heaven disappearing after your attack on Hell. You had quite literally raised Hell in Heaven, tearing your way down into the depths just to get your revenge. You had struck down the Princess of Hell, nearly erasing all of her memories, had her friends not helped her. And in the end, you backed down, your guilt finally catching up to you. You thought if you had let your anger control you, you would easily be able to kill Charlie and her friends. But the more time you spent in Hell, the more your anger ebbed away, leaving an empty shell in its place.

In the end, the story remained the same. Your happy ending faded from view, and Charlie remained the hero of the story, along with her father, Lucifer. You were nothing but the bad guy, just another person standing in the way of the true story. Everything felt like a game to you, and you had to figure out how to climb your way to the top, to win. Losing this fight to Lucifer had dropped you all the way down to the very, very beginning. You had nothing. This time, you didn’t even have any friends. You were all alone. Or so, you had wished. Oh, how it was quite the opposite, actually.

When you were cast from Heaven, Sera and Emily made absolutely certain that you didn’t end up in some rotten corner of Hell. Oh no, they had you fall right into the lap of Lucifer himself. They had begged and pleaded for him and Charlie to take you in, try to redeem you. Or at the very least, take care of you. It was what you deserved, Sera had said. Charlie was immediately all in, happy to have you despite what you had done. You had nearly wiped the demonic side of her clean, which would have ruined her life and stolen her memories. Yet, she happily accepted you with open arms, literally. She squeezed you in an almost deathly tight hug, promising to make up for what had happened to you. After you had shown her your memories, Charlie had become especially clingy to you, to make sure you were happy, that you weren’t lonely.

The other hotel residents didn’t take to you as kindly as Charlie. Vaggie hated you with every fiber in her being, which you didn’t blame her for. Angel Dust and Husk both would team up on you and constantly remind you of what you had done. Alastor had been about as normal as you expected him to be, but you did notice he was rather pushy about information on your past, of which you indulged him none. Knowing he was either coveting your soul, or information on Lucifer, you tended to keep your distance from him.

As for Lucifer himself, you hadn’t spoken a single word to each other in the week you had moved into the hotel. You didn’t want to speak to him, not after everything. Not after what he put you through. It was hard enough not getting to have your happy ending, you didn’t need him rubbing salt in the wound. Just his smile alone was enough to sour your whole day. And it seemed others knew that too, as Angel Dust would constantly question your relationship with Lucifer, and what it used to be like. Knowing it would end up getting back to Charlie, you kept quiet on the finer details of your past with him. Nobody, not even Charlie, knew he was once your husband in the eyes of Heaven. All that mattered now was that he was a nobody to you, a stranger.

Your life in Hell hadn’t been all that bad though. Aside from Charlie forcing her friendship down your throat, you had actually managed to make one friend in the hotel, and it hadn’t surprised anyone a single bit when it happened. Adam, First Man, died during the exterminations, had become your closest friend in Hell. You could barely tolerate his attitude, but relating to him when it came to getting the short end of the stick was fun sometimes. You could spend hours with Adam, talking about how shitty Hell and the hotel was, getting lost in drinks and partying all night long. It was the first time you had genuinely smiled in the last ten thousand years.

Tonight had been one of those nights. You and Adam stayed in the bar long after Husk had retired for the night. Drinking away afterlife’s issues, listening to music, talking about everything and nothing. Adam could talk a lot, and you were happy to finally listen to someone and just bask in their presence once again. But the nightly hour began to crawl up, taking its toll on you. You let out a soft yawn, leaning into the bar.

“Adam, I’m pretty tired, I think I’m gonna call it a night,” You muttered, your voice slurring slightly. Adam hardly paid you any mind as he chugged his drink, giving you a thumbs up.

“’Kay, ‘night, bitch,” He mumbled back, keeping his attention focused on the drinks that melted away his memories. You sighed, pushing yourself off the barstool, making your way back to bed.

Your body felt sluggish, dragging behind you as you walked down the long, never-ending halls. You didn’t remember the hallways being so long. You groaned sleepily, trying to steady your body as you pressed a hand to the wall, letting the surface lead you down the hall. You leaned your weight onto your palm, barely picking your feet up off the floor. You were so tired. Tired of living here. Tired of eternity. Eternity was simply too long.

You let out a yelp as the wall disappeared from underneath your hand, stumbling to the side and into the open bedroom doorway you had tripped up on. Your eyes snapped up to try and identify whose room you had fallen into, your gaze falling upon the open balcony door. The red light of the sky streamed into the room, making your eyes blur with sleepiness. Rubbing them, you leaned against the door, squinting your eyes at the person who leaned against the balcony railing.

“I was fine with the men, who would come into her life now and again,”

A familiar voice sung a soft tune, instantly sobering you up. Your vision cleared almost immediately, the sight of Lucifer holding a red rose making your throat close. He sighed, bringing the rose to his face, letting the petals tickle his skin.

“I was fine cause I knew that they didn’t really matter until you,” His voice was somewhat breathy, as if he were on the brink of tears. You had to wonder what had pushed him to such a point, curious as to whom he was singing about. You found yourself planted in his doorway, watching as he brushed the pad of his thumb over the petals of the rose.

“I was fine, when you came, and we fought like it was all some silly game, over her,” Lucifer took a deep breath, looking up into the deep red sky. “Who she’d choose. After all those years, I never thought I’d lose...”

Pulling his hat off his head, Lucifer squeezed the brim tightly in his fist, before dropping it on the floor. Holding the rose with both hands, he stared out into the bright lights of Pentagram City, the lights reflecting and glimmering in his eyes.

“It’s over, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Isn’t it over?” He leaned into the railing, standing on his tiptoes, threatening to tip over the edge at any second as he reached out into the city lights. “It’s over, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Isn’t it over?”

Dropping back down onto the heels of his feet, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to contain his emotions. “You won, and she chose you, and she loved you, and she’s gone,”

You watched with wide eyes as Lucifer’s wings sprouted from his back, giving a soft flap and lifting him into the air. His shoes landed on the edge of the railing with a soft tap, a shaky sigh coming from within him. “It’s over, isn’t it? Why can’t I move on?”

Lucifer looked down at the red rose in his hand, the thorns breaking the skin of his palm. Golden liquid pooled in his palm, soaking the stem, staining the petals, giving it an otherworldly glow. He glared at the sight, his emotions pooling over, overflowing.

“War and glory, reinvention, the garden, freedom, her attention,” Lucifer walked along the edge of the railing, his body tipping back and forth between threatening to fall over and sinking back into his room.

Your brows furrowed deeply at the mention of the garden, fingers digging into the doorframe. Was he singing about Lilith? You knew he and Lilith had split, Lilith disappearing over seven years ago now. You had even accidentally let out a laugh in Lucifer’s face when Charlie had told you that fact, furthering the man’s sadness. Not that you felt bad about it.

But now, a sickness began to twist within your gut, making you want to hide away and never be seen again. He missed Lilith. You shouldn’t have been as upset about that as you were. If anything, you should’ve been laughing at his misery. But it only left a souring taste in your mouth, bile threatening to come up.

“Out in daylight, my potential, bold, precise, experimental,” Lucifer smiled as the memories of a time gone by came and went in his mind. Back when he still fought for his dreams, back when he wanted to give humanity the greatest gift imaginable. If only he had known just what his gift would entail, maybe things wouldn’t be like this today. “Who am I now in this world without her? Petty and dull, with the nerve to doubt her,”

You turned your back to Lucifer, unable to continue listening to his depressing serenade anymore. You glanced back, eyes wide to find Lucifer lying on the balcony’s edge, as if uncaring what would happen to him should he fall.

“What does it matter? It’s already done, now I’ve got to be there for her redemption,”

Your whole body froze, blood going still in your body. Even your heart seemed to quieten down, barely thumping against your chest. Surely you hadn’t heard that right. Surely, he didn’t say redemption. Your redemption. He was singing about you.

Your thoughts ran a mile a minute, trying to understand what was happening. Why would Lucifer, the man who abandoned you for ten thousand years, sing about missing you? You scraped your memories for any reason he would suddenly miss you, wondering what you had done to earn such attention. You had purposely been avoiding him, you thought you had taken the proper measure to never form another connection with that demon ever again.

Your mind drifted back to what you had been doing before stumbling across Lucifer’s room. You had been spending time with Adam, the man who, apparently, Lucifer stole everything from. Lucifer had stolen both his wives, Lilith and Eve, and had made an eternal enemy out of the man. You felt the air in your lungs hitch in your throat, realization washing over you, drowning you in misery once more. Lucifer was jealous.

“It’s over, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Isn’t it over?” Lucifer closed his eyes, leaning over the inner edge of the railing, dropping onto the floor, landing on his feet with a thud. He held the rose to his lips, ignoring the cold feeling of the breeze brushing past his face, teardrops falling down his cheeks and drenching the rose. “It’s over, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Isn’t it over?”

He turned to face the city once more, the bright lights reflecting in his tears. He furrowed his brows in frustration, squeezing the rose tight enough to snap the stem. “You won, and she chose you, and she loved you, and she’s gone!”

Lucifer threw the rose over the edge, the golden shimmer of his blood glittering as it poured like rain. He watched as the glitter disappeared in the bright city lights, his tears drying against his cheeks. “It’s over, isn’t it? Why can’t I move on?”

Looking down at the teardrops that had fallen to the ground, mixing with the droplets of blood dotting his balcony floor, Lucifer sighed deeply. “It’s over, isn’t it? Why can’t I move on?”

Silence filled the air once more, with the occasional sniffle from Lucifer as he wiped his teary eyes on his sleeves. He looked down at his hand, the shallow cuts already beginning the process of healing. Clenching his hand into a tight fist, he turned around, his energy fizzled out after his burst of emotions. He had just so happened to see you spending another long night with Adam in the lobby, and everything within him finally snapped.

Turning around to retire to his bed, Lucifer’s eyes widened as they instead found you standing in his doorway. You visibly flinched, your blood running cold. You should’ve left long ago, but you found yourself stuck in place, watching the man before you break down. Now he was faced toward you, and the air suddenly felt suffocating.

Without thinking, you whipped around, taking off running down the hall. Your sleepiness was replaced with a sense of panic, your feet thundering down the hall as you ran as fast as you could. You heard Lucifer’s voice, calling out to you, begging for you to wait, but you didn’t dare stop. You didn’t think you could talk even if you wanted to. You didn’t trust yourself not to succumb to the desire for older times. You knew, deep down, that if given the opportunity, you would willingly sink back into Lucifer’s hold, allowing yourself to be vulnerable to him once more. You also knew it would never end well.

So, you ran. And eventually, you no longer heard Lucifer calling and chasing after you. You made it back to the safety of your room, curled into your bed, and passed out. You didn’t want to be awake and present in the moment, not when he could show up at any moment. You just wanted everything to disappear.

And yet, you couldn’t get his voice out of your head, even long after falling asleep...

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #Spotify

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dropout-if · 9 months

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DEMO (coming soon) - FAQ - NAVIGATION

Dropout is an upcoming (and a side project!) +18 slice-of-life interactive fiction game. Loosely inspired by media such as In the Heights and Night in the Woods.

Tag(s): Slice of life, Drama, Romance, YA, LGBTQ+, Text-based.

You take the train home from college after nearly four years away, knowing you will be welcomed with open arms, bright smiles, and the sincerest congratulations from your friends and family, from the entire neighborhood. Their pride has not been misplaced, for better or for worse, you are the one: the only one who made it into college.

This is your first summer home since you began studying in Stanford. That is what everyone thinks.

This is your first summer home since you dropped out of college, thus becoming the biggest disappointment in your neighborhood. That is what only you know.

Trigger Warning(s): Crude humor, Strong language, optional sex scenes, Violence, Depression and depictions of other mental illnesses, Substance use, Unwanted pregnancy (a RO's, Wanda).

A short disclaimer

Features and Characters below!

Return to your home, the fictional neighborhood of Downtown Heights, where you're treated like a local hero because of your grand achievement.

Determine how you managed to make it into college and why you decided to call it quits.

Reunite with your high school friends and acquaintances, with whom you've barely spoken in the past few years.

Romance one (or more) of the six old faces waiting for you in Downtown Heights.

Customize your Main Character! From their teenage years to their young adulthood, from physicality to personality. Be it your traits, flaws, and vices: everything shapes your return home.

Navigate the very dramatic shenanigans of young adulthood.

Queer relationships • RO Intros • ROs' Social Media • RO Facts

Jean/Jade Gray (he/him or she/her): THE EX • 23 years old

J and you were good. Until you weren't, and then they broke up with you right before you left for college. The two of you promised to stay as friends, but, like most promises between you and J, that too was meant to be broken. Your ex is often considered to be ambitious, determined, and cutthroat. You honestly expected them to be well out of the neighborhood.

Exes to lovers. It's possible to start a poly relationship (v and triad) with J and Kai.

Uma Bharat (they/them): THE OLD FRIEND • 22 years old

It has always been you and Uma, and this has been something you covetously believed to be true. But then the distance settled in, and then the many years in which you lived abroad. You can't claim to know them as well as you once did. Uma once dreamed of being a successful painter, and they have never given up on art (though they sometimes feel like art has given up on them).

Childhood best friends to lovers. It's possible to start a poly relationship (triad) with Uma and Travis.

Statler Amani (he/him or she/her): THE HEARTTHROB • 25 years old

You knew Statler back in high school, though they can't claim to have known of you until you made it out of the neighborhood. Many years ago, they were every high schooler's dream partner: kind, polite, intelligent. Their current partner must be proud. Nowadays, Statler works as hard as they can to help their family.

Unrequited crush to lovers. Statler is already in a relationship, a (more-or-less) toxic one.

Wanda Pavon (she/her): THE MODEL • 22 years old

Wanda had a future in modeling, the two of you were in the same group of friends in high school, and you never doubted she would be capable of making it out of the neighborhood. Her self-assertive and spontaneous personality surely would have made Wanda's road a little easier. You only find out why Wanda stayed in Downtown Heights when you meet her daughter.

Friends to lovers. Wanda is a single mother, her daughter's name is Gabi.

Kai Alofa (he/him or she/her): THE ROOMMATE • 24 years old

Kai's glow-up is the reason some Downtown Heights grandmothers believe in magic. The high school nerd turned fuckboy/girl has spent the past few years traveling around the state. Like you, they are back for the summer, ready to disappoint their parents. Rooming together comes as a natural result of delaying said disappointment (or so Kai claimed).

Friends with benefits to lovers (mandatory to romance Kai). It's possible start a poly relationship (v and triad) with Kai and J.

Travis Camaro (he/him): THE RIVAL • 21 years old

Uma, Travis and you were considered to be inseparable: it was the three of you against the world. That is no longer the case. A massive argument completely shattered the friendship Travis and you had. You know he resents you, you know he's jealous you managed to make it out and that he was left behind. And that's all you know. Travis has always been... a private guy.

(Past friends) to enemies/rivals to lovers. It's possible to start a poly relationship (triad) with Travis and Uma.

Choosing a route.

The Dropout's Family

The list of flings!

#if game #dropout if #dropout #wip intro #wip #interactive fiction #dashingdon #choice script #cog #cog wip #choice of games #interactive fiction wip #intro post #if intro #hosted games

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sssammich · 1 month

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fic: come what may

a/n: this is a continuation of THIS post which was inspired by the fanart. please give that fanart some love if you haven't, it was so very compelling to me and that's why we're here.

anyway read the first part and then come back to this lol

---

Lena retreated to the single stall washroom after graciously thanking everyone around her for their applause and cheering. In the quiet of the small space, she was able to think about the last five minutes of her life.

It had been a week since she had spoken last with the caped hero, the word ‘villain’ rang in Lena’s ears still to this day.

It had stung her, lanced through her more like. But in this world, she had no choice but to keep moving forward if only to survive. She knew that reintegrating Lex back into her life was a risk, but what was the alternative? To let back in the one person she’d trusted with so much of herself only to be the same one who broke Lena irreparably? It figured that they would be one in the same. Supergirl had a habit of being duplicitous, after all.

Despite all of these thoughts, the dance had been more than she anticipated. For a brief moment in time, her world narrowed to the size of the dance floor when she and her former best friend twirled and glided across the space, held close to one another, swaying to the beat of the song.

Until Supergirl called out to her, the tenor of her voice bringing up a world long gone, the time together but a distant memory. Only to then ask her, “what’s your plan here, Lena?”

The illusion broke through and shattered all around them, and her eyes darkened, her heart hardened.

“You will never trust me,” she announced finally when she looked at Kara’s beautiful face, her equally beautiful blue eyes. Now, an enemy. “I can see it in your eyes.”

She pulled away and turned, not sure she could look at that face again, anymore. Still, she would admit that it was enough consolation to see Supergirl on edge, to put her on her red-booted back foot.

She recalled turning her head slightly and caught enough of Supergirl's departure from the middle of the dance floor and into the evening sky. It gave her some satisfaction, but not nearly enough to placate the ache in her chest.

Lena stared at her reflection; her makeup remained impeccably applied, impeccably in place despite the exertion of their dancing. The heat of Kara’s hands lingered all over her body, the warmth of those hands pressed into her, holding her in the illusion of safety as the song notes progressed. Her former best friend was clumsy in her movements, at least at first. It would have delighted Lena plenty to see Supergirl stumble her way through her movements. Yet, she held her own and led the two of them throughout the dance floor in an acceptable tango. On any other day, any other moment, she would have been charmed by it, let herself be led around so long as they stayed in each other's arms.

But those moments were no longer accessible to them.

She returned to her guests and maneuvered through the compliments and conversations, but every now and again, she glanced up into the open sky. Just in case.

—

In the end, Lex was defeated and rid of once and for all. The details of it were fuzzy to her now, but none of it mattered. Simply that he was gone from her life for good, that he would no longer be a terror to anyone and everyone, to those she loved.

Once again, however, she was left to pick up what remained of his ruinous rampage, if only to be surrounded by something beyond her isolation.

It was just a few scant weeks ago that she’d reached a truce with Kara and her Superfriends (nevermind that she’d once thought of them as her own friends, as well). Now here she stood weeks later: alone.

Lena had run out of options or excuses and finally sought out help from Kara without hope or expectation for true reconciliation or forgiveness, from either of them. They’d drawn their lines from one another so long ago, she’d considered them carved in stone.

Now she stood on her empty balcony overlooking the city just after the sun had set and the sky was now engulfed in dark blue.

Without a brother, a mother, a father. An orphan, twice over. It seemed that she was destined to live in solitude. They say no man was an island, yet perhaps Luthors were.

She gazed at the last remnants of the setting sun across the horizon, not giving away that she heard the sound of a cape billowing at the far end of the balcony. She made no move to say or do anything, simply took a sip of the amber liquid in her glass. If Supergirl had anything to say, then Lena was not going to stop her.

“How are you?” Kara finally said, after minutes trickled past them.

She scoffed, unable to help herself. She glanced over her shoulder and watched as Kara hovered outside of the balcony. She simply took another sip of her drink.

Kara, never one to leave well enough alone, moved so that her feet touched the ground and she stood somewhere behind her. Lena closed her eyes and took a swig of all of her remaining drink.

“You’re trespassing.”

“I know.”

“I can have you arrested.”

“That’s fine.”

“What do you want from me?”

“A dance.”

Lena quickly turned around, Kara standing only a few feet away, her arm outstretched. She glanced up and met blue eyes, an ocean of patience.

Resigned, Lena unfurled the fist by her side and placed it in the offered hand. She took a step forward until their bodies were almost flush with one another, Kara’s other hand placed on the small of her back. An easy fit between them. A thought that Lena shoved into a box for rumination and reflection later on.

“There’s no music,” she commented needlessly even as she put her free hand on Kara’s shoulder, her nerves manifesting in lightly scratching the fabric of the supersuit under her fingertips.

“There’s always music.” Just then, Kara pulled her phone from a hidden compartment behind her and pressed the screen until soft music started playing. It was the final duet in Moulin Rouge between the two leads, where she and Kara shed a tear or two when they watched it in the past—a distant lifetime ago. They were now extraordinarily different people from those versions of themselves.

“This musical was a tragedy.”

The superhero shrugged, her eyes focused past Lena’s head. “I know.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

Kara eventually returned her attention until their eyes met and Lena waited. She watched as Kara took a deep breath and offered Lena a cautious smile, resignation plastered on her own face. “I’m trying to tell you a lot of somethings.”

She studied Kara’s face, wanted to glean any kind of information from her features alone, but Kara betrayed nothing. “Start with one.”

“I’ve been practicing.” When she furrowed her brows in confusion, Kara clarified by twirling Lena out of her embrace only to pull her back into her orbit once again. This time without bumbling through any of the movements nor without a stutter in her steps.

The move surprised Lena enough to take her breath away, her senses suddenly alight as she considered what any of it meant. When? How? Why?

“Tell me another,” she whispered, her hands grasping tighter onto Kara just as the song started to swell.

“I want to start over.”

Lena stopped in her tracks so Kara did, too. Distantly, Lena observed that neither released their holds of one another.

“Why? We’ll only hurt each other.”

“Maybe. Probably,” Kara supplied before tugging Lena back closer to her and swayed side to side to encourage Lena to do the same. “But life without you in it is infinitely worse, I think. So if it’s all the same to you, I’ll take my chances.”

Lena’s heart felt like it was getting catapulted across time and space. And maybe it was actually getting catapulted along with every sway she took with Kara. Still, she couldn’t help but push. “Even with a villain?”

Kara grimaced slightly before flashing an apologetic smile. “Sure, Lena. Even with a villain.”

“I was one, you know,” she offered, watching for Kara’s response. She was complicit, had gotten her own hands dirty. She owned up to that.

“I know.” But Kara simply shrugged and brought them closer. “Believe it or not, I’ve been one, too. You’re not exactly very special in that department, Lena.”

A small laugh that bubbled out of her caught her off guard, and Kara smiled at her before spinning her away and back together again until Lena hid her face against the crook of Kara’s neck until the song finally ended.

They parted from each other, Kara taking a step back until she was a few feet away, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Thanks for the dance,” Kara said.

“You’ve gotten better.”

“I appreciate that. It means the practice has been paying off.” As if nodding to herself, Kara gave her a smile and began to turn so as to take off into the night sky, but Lena stopped her.

“Tell me one more,” she urged, realizing she didn’t want their interaction to end quite yet.

Kara then looked over her shoulder. “Can I come back tomorrow?”

“If you’d like.”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Kara’s body twisted so she was looking at Lena more fully. “Goodnight, Lena.”

“Goodnight, Kara.”

Lena watched as she took off into the sky, disappearing into the night. She’d stayed out there for a little while longer, the heat of her drink coursing through her veins while the moment between them warmed her against the cool breeze that passed through.

Nothing had yet been fixed, and there was a long road ahead of them. But something in her caged heart had loosened, allowing her to breathe again. That was a start.

#samfic #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #some canon divergence re: s5 #supercorp sunday #totally gonna count it as that #I KNOW i have other things #don't worry about those they'll get written #but you know how the lazy susan gets #she's fickle as hell #anyway shoutout to tumblr user lililustra #for the art #I ALSO TOOK IT probably a whole different direction than their intentions but here we are #it's fine it's fine

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me-uglypretty · 3 months

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my brother's wife

Pairing: Carol Danvers x F!Reader

Summary: Carol faces the conflict of war, and the love of her life or more accurately, the sister of a man she married.

Warning: (18+), fluff, mention of battle/war | 4k words

| C.D. Masterlist | Notify | Navigation |

The most confident, bravest, strongest, and coolest hero—spoken with enthusiasm by the honest words of Kamala Khan—was revealed as the heavily adored Princess of Aladna. Captain Marvel, a genuine royalty among her cheerful people. A princess that roused such joy and smiles from those around the symphonic planet.

“That’s so cool! You’re a princess!” Kamala had exclaimed after the moment of revelation had passed. “Oh my god, my favourite…my idol…my captain is also a princess,” she mumbled to herself, eyes widening at each word, and the absolute look of shock on her face when she stared adoringly at Carol.

On the other side, Monica appeared equally bewildered of the infamous hero’s newly revealed title. Carol tried relaying the reasons for her status at the planet, and only received teasing remarks that made her both annoyed and flush at their comical reactions.

Distraction soon arises for the two to further their teasing when the music begun playing. Aladna’s adored couple, the prince and princes dancing together dreamily, voices blending into the other to spoken words of a coming war.

Prince Yan was quick with his reaction, immediately directing them towards a guest room to prepare themselves for battle. Furthering their planning as he spoke privately with Carol then dismissing himself as the three were left assembling their own plan of action for Dar-Benn’s attack.

However, their conversation came to a halt when hushed voices were heard from outside their room. The sounds had diverted their attention towards the closed door, several seconds passed before the wide door was pushed open forcefully and someone entered in a rushed manner, scaring both Monica and Kamala while Carol merely reacted to the sudden intrusion.

“You’re here,” was spoken first, voice conveying brazen anger and eyes staring straight into those visibly cowering. “And you brought guest.”

Carol had flinched. Those words fell harshly from a mouth always sounding so sweet, someone she missed dearly and greatly from the unpleasant time apart. But when her own wide eyes met those orbs seemingly glimmering in pure wrath—she had smiled, dissolved was the sudden fear of what may happened, forgotten was the war that would soon arrive.

It was you, wasn’t it?

Why wouldn’t Carol smile at the sight of you?

It’s foolish to simply overlook the clear irritation on your face, but Carol had always reacted as foolishly possible when it came to you. Her eyes linger on your form, trailing from the strict look on your face to the hues of your clothes that appeared different from the occupants of Aladna. A sort of darkness looms in tinge of yellow, surely making you recognisable in the crowd. Though, that was undoubtedly the truth when you appeared in any places. A beauty like yours, and Carol crumbles at the sight.

You were there. Carol was there. A border that separated two was the upcoming war. Perhaps, it was the continuous voices that sang to their hearts desire, rarely disturbed by anger and unlike how a certain flair of anger seems stuck on your face.

But you’re…you.

“Why…why is Carol smiling?” Kamala whispered, nudging her elbow to Monica’s side at the question. The oldest between two simply shrugged, far too invested to know of her aunt’s new drama.

It was true. Carol was smiling at the sight of you, a stranger simply stood by the closed door. Hands fisted by your side, a frown settled deep on your face as your eyebrows furrowed and round eyes stared in her direction, anger that seems to slip gradually into confusion as your eyes examined the strangers in the room. Then, almost as if the realisation had settled when you noticed the younger girl, your glare was fixed back on Carol with madden intensity.

Carol cleared her throat first, mouth parted to say something then deciding on approaching you instead. “I know what you’re going to say—”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

Those words carried an unpleasant silence through the thickening tension. Carol’s approach was blocked as you swerve around her and walked towards the two guests.

Kamala takes an uncertain step back, seemingly pressing her body closer to Monica. Her wide eyes, those pools of soft brown swirls with an expression of fear, confusion, and adoration.

You lifted your fisted hand, extending towards Kamala and revealed a piece of pink candy in your palm. The puzzled look on her face fades seconds as she accepted the candy and uttered a soft thank you. After the minimal interaction, you glance towards the older woman stood beside her. Monica doesn’t offer a smile of any sort as your eyes squints at her like you found her familiar, before nodding your head at her.

“If you need anything, let me know. I’ll be waiting outside this room,” you stated sternly and spun around to make an exit.

Carol’s hand almost reached for yours but dropped by her side with a tired sigh as a hand was raised in her direction, silencing her from uttering anything else. The warning look remained on your face as you opened the door and closed it behind you.

It was almost too quiet till the sound of soft steps reached Carol’s side.

A hum was followed by the question, “So…who was that?”

Carol seemed to had awaken from her swirling thoughts. The clear curiosity was on Kamala and Monica’s face, neither gathering a reasonable answer for the slightly awkward and entirely too conflicted situation. The oldest of them had choose to ignore the questions looming in utter confusion and gestured for them to prepare for the upcoming battle.

It's you, it’s her, and it’s time she set aside her personal matters for the sake of their safety.

Out of the various disastrous occurrence, you weren’t prepared for the forced warfare in your peaceful planet. A home that was always glowing in hues of bright colours, people sharing the sounds of their love and embracing each other tenderly. Despite the conflict that arise at some point that made you dim, it was nothing alike the beliefs that your parents had taught you, and it wasn’t alike the absolute chaos you had witness.

Now, you were stood by the window that exhibited a view of the unexplored galaxy and you were fuming at the sight. A single foot taps rhythmically on the metal flooring, it was a song that your mother used to sing when nights were far too dark and worry expands in your chest. The kind of agony that carried forward as you grew older and when you were forced into the space ship with her.

It's for the best, your brother had claimed and pushed your body towards the hovering ship. The best of his decision was questioned in sake for you or for him. You assumed the latter was the obvious answer.

“How are you doing?” the tender voice asked and instantly, you smelled the slightly burnt aroma that carried through the air. “Coffee?” was offered soon after with a friendly smile.

When you accepted the offer, instantly did the warmth from the mug spreads to the width of your palms. A soft hum resonates through your throat as you sipped the bitter drink tentatively, the warmth doesn’t settle the ache in your chest but offer a sort of comfort from the chill that surrounds the unaccustomed space.

A gentle whisper of a thank you, and seconds after, your gaze met those of dark brown eyes swirling with sympathy.

“We weren’t formally introduced…but I’m Monica,” she introduced herself after offering the beverage. “That’s Kamala,” she pointed her thumb back, and you followed her gaze towards the young girl sat at the edge of the desk, kicking her feet absently then waving shyly in greeting at realisation that the attention had diverted to her.

You nodded your head first, followed by the confession that seemingly pulled her attention entirely on you. “I know…you,” and timid smile was revealed on your face.

Monica’s eyes seemingly widen at the revelation, eyebrows furrowed and mouth parted with questions lingering in her mind since your appearance. A taunting sense that hasn’t provided her with an idea of you.

Though, the wanting conversation was abruptly stopped by sounds of metal clattering to the ground, echoing throughout the shared space. Grumbles of sort was heard moments after, and Monica smiled, an apology lingering at the tip of her tongue as she hastily walked towards the urgent noise.

It left you alone, or at least, with the youngest among them.

Kamala’s face settled with an expression of utter concentration, the lines over her eyebrows more prominent as she squints her eyes and in return, you followed the reaction that seems to flutter out of nowhere. A moment shared between two at an hour that wasn’t great to neither, and it was the sign of a slight smile curling at her lips that warmth your heart. The commenced of a staring contest that you knew of well, a game that you had experienced with the children of Aladna.

It takes approximately ten seconds after that your façade dissolved into a smile that pulled at the muscles of your cheeks and laughter which carried happily in the air. Kamala snorted at the reaction, almost dropping the bowl of snacks in her hands from her uncontrollable laughter.

The rush of innocence in that moment, grasped at your heart and hers, which later you assumed. It seemed foreign to experience something so childlike. Life had become nothing but a period of attending to trivial occasions or listening to orders that enforced your presence far from significant discourses. The thought itself makes you feel strange. Did life really succumb into such dullness? If so, and life has truly met the worst then was that why a young child like her had become intertwined with a growing war?

Few minutes after, when neither you or Kamala was at the start of another childlike act, the young girl made a sound alike a hum.

“I like your scarf,” Kamala pointed out, her head nodding towards the fabric that was tired firmly around your wrist. “It’s pretty…like you,” she added faintly as a shy smile appeared on her face.

The mention of said scarf; an iridescence like maroon fabric which surface is scattered with a phrasing that looked faded, and the seams of the fabric was woven with embroidery of flowers in shade of gold and silver. It was one of the many fabrics made in your home planet, though, this article of clothing carried a significant meaning.

It's special, you would explain as a conclusion.

You placed the coffee in your possession by the window before untying the scarf around your wrist. Taking gentle steps forward, a tender smile curls at your lips as you glance at the fabric in your hand then meeting Kamala’s curious gaze. “Here, you can have it,” you said, and waited for the young girl to extend her hand.

A soft gasp was heard when the scarf was entirely in her touch. The sudden glow that resurfaced wasn’t unusual as you smiled at the sight. It was always a special fabric, and you believed that—Kamala is even more special.

“It’s glowing! Oh my…” she exclaimed, excitement seemingly losing an understand of what she was saying as you chuckled at her reaction. “Really?” she asked, after settling with a wide grin on her face. “Thank you!” she rushed to warp her arms around you as returned the show of affection.

“It’s a special scarf,” you spoke fondly of it. “Promised to guide in time of trouble…” you briefly explained, and witness the young girl inspecting the scarf intriguingly then her eyes, round and wide, stared into yours with questions that you waved off. “No, it’s not going to help you in every situation. It comes and goes, you’ll feel it when it does,” you wiggled your hands to emphasis it’s magic.

You wouldn’t exactly utter the word of magic. It’s not a trick. It’s just, that, something special and only worthy to those of pure heart.

“What’s that?”

The question was rushed, hand grasping your wrist that was once tied with a scarf. It doesn’t occur to you of Kamala’s sudden interest till the next question dropped from her mouth in utter surprise.

“Is that a glowing tattoo?”

You hastily pulled your hand away, and feign obliviousness as you shrugged. “Don’t know.”

The lie that slips from your tongue feels customary. It was a part of you that you hid well. The very emblem that stirred your chest with such rage, waiting for moments after another to erupt in sheer bloody wrath, and express the very notion that made you feel lost. At that same instant, where those feelings roused in such situation, the reason appeared in lurid steps.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Carol’s voice carried warmly through and her body inched closer, while yours visibly retreated with a livid scowl on your face.

Carol has always been the reason.

And there, she crossed her arms. “Are you serious? You’re still mad about what happened?”

Anger flash in your eyes, widening in sheer frustration and irritation. All those crimson flush that seems obvious to her, and you hoped for the least that she reconsiders her next choice of words. You take that step first, forcing your body into her proximity. A single finger pointed at the centre of her chest as you spoke the next line in blazing fury and in a tone that surely left everyone close stunned.

“No. You don’t get it, Carol. You got the prosperous ending with my brother, the chance to leave and continue your beautiful life in space. You had that, just pick up everything and leave to your lonesome like you always do,” you glance around her space ship to emphasise her isolation. “But I didn’t. I faced the backlash for not choosing the right person, for not— you promised that it will always be me and you.”

The breath released after your admission, it pulled at your chest and settled a heavy there. It doesn’t improve when your eyes started into hers, those spheres that you once compared to the sun.

Carol—she was the person you fell so hopelessly for—and she felt that same too, at those hours spend conversing of everything to nothing. You were sure of it. Those eyes of light brown held a heavenly like adoration for you. The mundane act of life, where her hands always find yours or the crimson flush on her cheeks when your hand rest firmly on her thigh. Carol always held a look in her eyes that others would express of how you perceive said person who painted the starts specifically for you, only someone loves you truly would go beyond to achieve that.

She speaks of it too, the love that she holds for purely for you. It was never doubt that she would have seize every colour in the universe for you. The promise that sealed her lips over yours at the first night you presumed her as another space adventurer. She wasn’t, that she swore upon.

It was love. You were confident of it.

Why must she had done everything against it?

You haven’t found the answers. Carol had left you abandoned while you still saw her face everywhere you turn and your brother’s satisfied smile at the mention of his wife.

It wasn’t fair to you—to your aching heart that stayed, still waiting for the glow of the night to appear and to see her smile. You waited for Carol every night till your mind settled with an end.

She could never settle herself for something permanent.

“You have always been so good at leaving, Carol Danvers,” you uttered with finality, and immediately walked away from her.

Pretence slips instantly. You ignored the look of disappointment on Monica’s face or the sounds of shock from Kamala at the revelation. Life was always like this; pretend, speak of every hurt, and pretend again.

Carol acknowledged the mistakes she made from the first that she remembers to the expense of the last. It takes saving the world with such reckless actions before and after, and the most horrible parts of it for her to finally understand. It was the same route that leads for another mistake.

Her heart ached with knowing that neither could compare to the shame that bathe her at leaving you in such state, and the absolute betrayal of accepting the marriage proposed by your brother. It was a documented act to solve a conflict. Merely an act, a performance for the politics that blurred heavily between social construct of Aladna and the heir of the throne.

“She’s very angry with you,” Kamal mumbled nonchalantly which ultimately directed Carol’s attention to her. “But she’s very pretty…” she trailed, momentarily getting distracted by the transparent screen which possessed classified information. “Actually, I think every beautiful woman…hates you,” and with that, she gasped dramatically at the realisation.

Carol argued with the brewing thoughts in the younger girl’s mind. “That’s not— stop, not every woman hates me.”

“Okay,” Kamila answered sarcastically. The utter shock of seeing her idol had fade into confidence if she was speaking like this without a worry, and it kind of made Carol wish back for the early stages of meeting Kamala.

A tired sigh emits from her throat, her hand brushed the blonde strains that fell to her forehead. “Kamala, she doesn’t hate me.”

Kamala scoffed at the statement. Carol’s eyebrows furrowed, and she titled her head, a look that made the younger girl raise her hand in surrender. It was followed by soft mumbles of apologies.

“She’s not happy with me right now, and I understand her,” Carol claimed, confidence wavering at each word after the tense and one-sided conversation with you. “Anyway, why do you even think that?” she questioned, before pushing the younger girl’s hand from messing with the buttons close by, and a cheeky smile soon resurfaced on her face.

“Because she gave me her scarf, she helped before and after the fight, she’s really nice…then you appeared and suddenly, I feel like a child of divorce…” Kamala expressed with a pout.

Carol’s mouth parted in shock, open and closing as though she was trying to comprehend the way to breath or find a suitable way to response. Ultimately at her speechlessness, Carol huffed and turned around, swiftly leaving the young girl giggling in her dismissal of the subject.

How could Kamala have assumed that, as if, the relationship shared between two was obvious to everyone. Carol knew you enough and that served as the only motive as search for you in the space ship.

It hasn’t left her mind since the night she had left. The circulating questions on if your brother was aware of the relationship that brew between you and her. Did the proposal of marriage arise after knowing the truth or was it proposed at the state of unknown?

Then she heard your voice, reaching her ears to where her mind drones the questions and her chest soothe with a warmth from a voice she had missed. You sounded so you, so gentle, so affectionate, and so unliked the voice that spat angrily in her direction.

You were sat by the monitors with Monica. A conversation flowing easily between two people who had never met before this. Carol was careful as she stood behind the wall, enough to stay hidden and still eavesdrop which she knew was a bad thing, but she couldn’t hinder her curiosity.

“Carol talk about you,” was the revelation that shifted Monica’s attention entirely onto you and deserting the classified information she was reading through. “There was so many stories that it felt like I knew you…but you’re obviously not a kid anymore and I don’t think your Aunt Carol had accepted that yet,” you teased at the end, resulting in chuckles from the other women.

“Our relationship feels weird,” Monica admitted, a sort of comfort disclosed in her posture as she shared her thoughts with you. “It’s been years since I last saw her and…” she paused with a tired sigh.

You nodded your head understandingly. “Regardless of what had happened in the past, I know very well that Carol misses you and she loves you so much,” your hand rested comfortingly on Monica’s arm as you continued, “I really do believe that she wants to try and make this better.”

The conversation fades into the background when Carol turned away from it. After all she had done, the absolute heartbreak that was vivid in your eyes, and you still spoke of her so kindly with someone sharing the same angry for her leaving. It wouldn’t make sense if someone else heard this, but Carol knows your compassion goes beyond.

You were rooting for her relationship with Monica to heal. It felt like your anger as fated at her, but never around what she was for everyone else.

Carol wishes and hopes that she could have the chance to fix the mess she created, and to hear your voice speak sweet to her.

The feeling of something horrible occurring—that ache which drew the most horrifying scream from your chest, your throat burns from the sheer strength it took, your hands trembling, your eyes blurry as tears shed—and the aftermath of it.

To witness someone, not just anyone, but the love of your life confined in a battle that doesn’t present an idea of who would survive. To ready your heart for the worse rather than the good, as the later hasn’t transpired for years, and you were always expecting the worse when it was intertwined with you.

Carol was, is intertwined with you.

The reality of a dreadful battle had disregarded the resentment which stirred in your chest at the sheer mention of her. Betrayal of such, wasn’t promised forgiveness. A part of you knew, forgiveness materialised in your heart when you first saw her on the dance floor, despite her close embrace with your brother.

Everything that you felt was dismissed completely at the sight of her, alive and breathing as she stood just steps away from you. Carol frowned, cheeks crimson and skin gleaming of sweat. It takes one move for her mouth to part, and for you to leap into her arms as she held you close. They won, and she was alive.

In the heat of such reunion, you pushed yourself back slight, your soft eyes gazing into hers and like nature pursuit the sun’s shine, your mouth hovers over hers—

And you kissed her.

One kiss after another, mouth pressing into the other as though air was transfer in that way, her touch melting you into a puddle of love for her.

Carol was stunned and hoped the forbidden wake from a dream wouldn’t ruin this moment with you. It doesn’t happen, not when your hands grasped her face or when her hands fell to your waist. You were kissing her so fondly that the smile on her face the only reason you stopped.

“You kissed me,” Carol whispered, her minty breath fans over your mouth, and you used to tease her for her habit of eating mint candies when she was stressed. “You kissed me.”

You hummed. “And you kissed me back.”

However, the sweet reunion of love was interrupting by a cough. Carol shifted her head slight, looking over your shoulder to see Monica stood there with an unamused expression. You tenderly turned around in her embrace, back pressed into hers as Carol rested her head on your shoulder.

It's perfect, she confessed to her heart. The bad was resolved, and you still love her. You love her enough and haven’t left her side since the start of this unavoidable war.

She doesn’t need any other proof of love than the way your hand grasps her wrist and hold her closer. The glimpse of a mark on your wrist proof of it more, a matching emblem of love that glows warmly on her skin and yours.

“So…you forgive her for being problematic?” Monica teased, and instantly raised her hands in feign surrender when Carol glared at her. “Okay, calm down, Aunt Carol. I was just…stating the obvious.”

A groan trembles through your shoulder at Carol’s annoyance. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Where’s Kamala? Go take care of her, please,” Carol plead in the end, and Monica smiled, waving her hands at you as she walked away.

Carol turned your body around, facing you entirely as the smile on her face widens as you were smiling at her too. It’s unreal, she thought, as her fingers trace the curve of your lips and you lean into her touch.

You felt the texture of her skin, the print of her birth and the ones occurred from her life filled with action. She wasn’t a fragment of a memory that made you curse and cry the night away. Just knowing she was there with you, lessen the ache that was so persistent in your heart.

“I’m sorry for messing up,” Carol whispered, her hand grasps your jaw tenderly. “I shouldn’t— I should have never left you. It’s my fault, and I would do everything to fix this, fix us.”

You simply listened or more, admire the little furrow of her brows as she spoke, the line that drew over forehead which appeared more prominent when she was frowning, and the way her eyes visibly softened, it’s not the look of a warrior but of someone blooming with sympathy. Your body seemed to react first as you pressed your mouth firmly over hers, lips completely shutting her from her rambles of apologies.

“I forgive you,” was whispered as another kiss was followed by, “But you have a long way to fix everything,” you pointed, and she chuckled, nodding her head in agreement.

This was entirely the way either of you expected for rekindle of a relationship, but she was there, you were there, and safely together. Life, rough as it always had been, but it would eventually resolve into better thing. You accepted this at once as her eyes gaze into yours, the tender touch of her hand, and the sweet smile on her face.

You kissed again—just for her.

“But you are divorcing my brother or this,” you pushed yourself back, creating a gap between bodies. “Would never work out,” you stated as you removed your hands from hers and patted her chest softly.

The response that came after was the sound of your distant steps, and Carol’s eyes followed your figure retreating to where the rest were surely waiting.

“Wait! Stop!” Carol shouted suddenly, realisation dawning on her after completely losing her state of consciousness from your touch. “We got married on papers to solve a conflict! It’s not real, hey!”

The laughter that echoed through the space ship was shared among those surviving another formidable battle. You were laughing with Monica and Kamala while Carol was trying her hardest to justify her political marriage, and the slight appearance of a smile when she realises that this is her family. Loneliness doesn’t dwell at each corner of this floating ship, but the warmth of friendships, and rekindled relationships.

hi! if you enjoyed this, do consider getting me coffee 💜

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #carol danvers imagine #captain marvel x you #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagine

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chosos-mascara · 8 months

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𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

800 words, sukuna and reader are fwb, reader tells their true feelings. yuuji is sukuna's little brother. totally self indulgent. no smut, only fluff, though cause of the nature of their relationship, i'm saying mdni

Friends with benefits had been a wordless agreement between yourself and Sukuna. He hadn't cared for a relationship, and you hadn't wanted to commit to anything - so after a few hookups, your situation had become more of a practiced exchange.

This would often consist of a text on a weekend when his brother would be out of the house, or you'd request his presence after a particularly grueling day at work. It would always be a simple exchange, a ding of phone with the phrase 'you busy?', requiring only a 'yours or mine?' in response. The first few months this had gone smoothly, with the frequency picking up a little in subsequent season, and slowing again in summer, when Yuuji would be home from school.

You'd missed his availability, though appreciated the 'no ties' end of the agreement you'd set. This was Sukuna, and you were sure not too fall too hard for him, even if you'd started dosing off beside him, or using his shower just to come home and smell like his shampoo - but you weren't in love with him.

He'd never asked you over before he'd been home himself, though after he'd found himself close to quitting his job, followed by being stuck in traffic, he'd sent his text without anticipating that you might be arriving first. You'd knocked over his apartment door, ready to be pulled in and pushed up against a wall, though when meeting a slightly shorter version of himself, a lack of tattoos etched over skin, you were left with wide eyes like a deer in headlights.

"Uh," You stammered, anxiously shuffling on the spot. "Is Sukuna home?"

The boy looks to be about sixteen, and with his eerily similar appearance to the man you'd spent countless nights beneath, you'd assumed him to be Yuuji. He shook his head, though opened the door wider. "Wanna wait for him?"

Taking a moment to think, you considered whether intruding on Sukuna's family life would be appropriate for the loose friendship you'd had. Though, the part of you that had wished to grow much closer to him had been stronger than your logic, and you'd instead taken a step inside his apartment, trailing behind his little brother to join him in the lounge.

Yuuji had thrown himself onto the couch, a guitar hero controller propped up beside him. "Wanna play?" He'd offered the plastic to you, and you'd taken it with reluctance. "I used to play this in college." Your voice was timid, your stature awkward, though you'd scrolled through the songs and picked one you'd known best. Yuuji had side-eyed you when you'd selected 'expert', though said nothing.

At first, you were a little rusty, though with time, you were hitting notes well and holding a streak. He'd applauded you on a solo, and watched intently at the remainder of the song. You hadn't noticed through your own passion that Sukuna had come home, and had stood behind you with an arm over the other.

"What're you doing?"

His voice startled both you and his brother, a sheepish look on Yuuji's face as Sukuna's attention had diverted to him, brown eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't let strangers into the house." The terminology he'd used had hurt you, though you'd said nothing through fear. Would this cause a rift between you?

"Choso said you were seeing someone-" "Choso doesn't know shit." Quick to shut him down, Sukuna looks back to you, the controller now on the floor as you stood. He hadn't needed to direct you, simply turning to walk toward his own room as you'd followed like a lost puppy, anxiously awaiting your lecture.

"If Yuuji's home, you can't come here." Sukuna had spoken once the door behind him had been closed, bringing a finger to forehead. He'd still been wearing his office clothes, the white button-up rolled to forearm.

"I'm sorry." Your voice had wavered, heart sinking within chest as you'd looked toward his floor. "I just thought-" You cut yourself off, shaking head. "I just thought we'd been seeing each other a while-" "We're not seeing each other. We're just fucking." "Right." If you'd lifted your gaze, you would've exposed the pooling tears in your eyes, so you'd remained still.

"I just-" Mentally scolding yourself, despite your brain screaming at you to stop, you could only follow your heart. "I would like to see you."

You hold your breath as you await his response, a shaky exhale once a few moments had passed. You finally remove your eyes from the rug, looking to watch his expression. You'd pictured anger or disgust, though you were met with a soft gaze, his chest rising, and then falling.

"Okay." He'd spoken the word slowly as if to convince himself, and your chest tightened. "I'll take you out this weekend. But, I don't want you talking to Yuuji yet-" He'd paused when you'd thrown your arms out widely, wrapping them over his torso. It had been too broad for your hands to meet behind his back, though you'd held onto him tightly nonetheless.

#this was silly but idk i liked it #guitar hero for the win... reader is amazing at it ok #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna drabble #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna jjk #sukuna jjk x reader #sukuna self insert #jjk x reader #sukuna scenarios #jjk imagine #sukuna imagine #jjk sukuna x reader #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #sukuna x you

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d3wdropz · 4 months

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DIVINITY: PROLOGUE ~ SUKUNA X READER

a/n okay I'm very excited about this!

I'm planning on splitting up the story into a prologue, fight, smut, then epilogue. I love build-up and world building, not just the smutty stuff, so be prepared for more of a plot w/ porn set up- plans may change though and upload schedule will be chaotic so be prepared

hope you all enjoy!

pairing: True Form! Sukuna x Curse! Fem! Reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: Sukuna is feared and respected, a self-proclaimed "natural calamity". Shrouded in power and mystery, not much is known about him, other than the fact that if you bore him you'll likely face a gruesome demise.

Now where does that leave you? A powerful and new "natural calamity" as Sukuna would say.

content warning: no smut, fem! reader, canon-typical violence, descriptions of violence, blood, death, swearing, kind of anti-hero/villainous reader, canon! sukuna , slightly non-canon setting

credit to @cafekitsune for all the amazing dividers!!!

The Heian Era- a time that would later be recognized as the 'Golden Age of Jujutsu'. A period full of strong sorcerers- and curses.

Yet, no matter their strength, no one stood a chance against the reigning king: Ryomen Sukuna. The very mention of his name sent fear into those who heard it. While he stayed on top of the food chain, there was nothing to be done.

If a village wanted a chance at survival, they had expectations to uphold.

First: respect and fear the King of Curses. Even if he's miles away, when he is spoken of, it should be with care and respect. No one is sure if it's true, but there are tales of villagers speaking of Lord Sukuna in a lowly manner- only for them to be cut in-half before they could finish.

Second: his arrival should be met with offerings and praise. Not to feed his ego, but to give him a reason not to burn a town to the ground. If, for some terrible reason, a village has Sukuna housed within it, he is to be treated like a God. Anything less would mean the death of hundreds, such an easy act that Sukuna would do it with his eyes closed.

The third, and final, rule: everyone is beneath him. No one is allowed to look him in the eye, talk to him, or even breath too close to him. Weaklings are expected to know their place. If they forget, Lord Sukuna happily reminds them of his strength by crushing their windpipe with one of his four hands.

No village has ever really strayed from these rules after they were made- not if they wanted to live. Due to this, Sukuna's arrivals come with a sort of schedule: an invitation made in hopes of gaining his favor, offering and celebration preparation, the 'festivities', and finally, his departure.

The latest, pitiful town Sukuna has found himself in is in their third stage. He's seated comfortably on a pedestal of sorts, with Uraume close by. If Sukuna were to be honest, he finds these kind of events boring and tacky. He can't help but sneer when he looks into a sea of sad, lowly, humans giving him hollow praise to stay alive.

As Sukuna sits in his head, he thinks that maybe he endures this because there's nothing better to do. Pillaging and bloodshed isn't fun if don't give yourself the chance to relax, ready yourself for the next venture.

Another perk of being invited to these celebrations: hearing gossip. It's no surprise that Sukuna is not a very social man, and Uraume is no better when they spend all of their time with him. So these short instances give him a chance to hear the latest news.

It's not like he would be ignorant to anything if he truly wanted to know. He just finds more excitement in finding things out when villagers whisper their gossip to one another- it also gives him something to do.

Lucky for him, the townspeople are bustling with news. Their voices are full of fear and concern. They try to hide it, try to keep Sukuna's attention on the various gifts they offer him. It's not enough, sadly, and he's becoming intrigued.

This distress isn't being caused by him, from what he can hear and tell. None of them have verified or given a name to what is on their minds, so Sukuna decides to wait it out.

Night falls by the time Sukuna finally knows what's going on. By now, the offerings have been made, the praises have been given, and this meant it was time for him to take his leave. Both him and Uraume can see the sweat bead on the elder's heads as Sukuna remains seated.

Uraume is confused as well, but is wise enough to not question or make a fuss- Sukuna does as he pleases, sometimes with no rhyme or reason. Their job is to serve him, and right now that meant refilling his cup.

Just as he's about to call it a night, fed up with waiting for something interesting to happen, Sukuna hears it. Some young, quiet girl was speaking with her friend as they cleaned up. Their conversation was of some new curse- 'if you could call her that' as they said- was causing chaos in a neighboring village.

As Sukuna continued to listen, the girl shared more. She informed her friend that the curse seemed to appear out of nowhere, one that no one recognized. The rumors are that she looks human, beautiful even! But she's really a cold-hearted monster. When her companion scoffs and claims this to be false, that if this were true more people would know about it, the girl argues back. She explains that this has all happened within the span of a day or two.

Sukuna quirks his brow, slightly surprised by this news. He didn't sense any new cursed energy, at least to the extent that this girl is speaking of. If some curse were to be close by with this much power, he would know. But, it would bring some much-needed entertainment if this rumor were to be true.

Just as Sukuna was about to rise from his seated position, he felt something shift. It was as if a balance inside of him tilted. He tensed up and looked to the source, sensing it's placement. Uraume turned to the direction, having picked up on the intrusion as well.

Within seconds, a shriek was heard. It was quickly cut off by the sound of clatters. The shift Sukuna felt morphed into a detection of cursed energy just as the scream died.

As if the yell was some kind of alarm, the village quickly fell into disarray as people ran away. Families held each other tight as they rushed to the center of town, right where Sukuna was seated.

He watched as their determined faces fell, filling with fear and despair as they were met with the sight of the King of Curses. It was easy to see that the villagers were now stuck between two deadly curses, having to chose which death they'd prefer.

Without hesitation, Uraume calmly creates a rush of ice that destroys all of the obstacles between them and the curse that's entered the village- leaving behind a small pile of dead bodies. It was a simple and effective move, the opponent is caught off-guard and usually frozen in the ice. Oftentimes Uraume freezes the curse until they're veins are frozen solid, an easy victory.

So Uraume is left shocked when they watch the ice fly back towards them. It's wasn't too fast, they're able to create a wall that protects both them and Sukuna. They try to analyze the curse, but it's hard to see them through the ice.

Before Uraume could speak, a joyful laugh rang through the silent village. To any human, it sounded innocent and childish. But Sukuna and his attendent knew better, they sensed the power oozing from the curse, the malice behind that laugh.

With his interest peaked, Sukuna stood up, towering over the wall of ice after he cuts it away. He's left intrigued for the second time that night when he sees a woman standing before him, now only about 300 feet away.

She looks to be about 20, but appearances can't be trusted when dealing with immortal cursed spirits. Her body is adorned in a loosely fitting, silk robe. It's large and ill-fitted on her, falling off one shoulder, showing off soft skin. There are unmistakable dots and splashes of blood that stain the front of the pristine and bright fabric.

Her laughter dies down as she wipes away a tear. When she looks up, her eyes lock onto one pair of Sukuna's. An amused smile spreads on her face as she stands tall.

"Well, I knew there was something interesting here. I could feel it," she spoke carelessly, twirling a strand of hair and cocking her head to the side, "I didn't think it would be this fun."

By now, the rest of the villagers have snuck away. This left an empty town, with only the sounds of fire crackling and the curses to fill the night.

Sukuna can hear Uraume sneer, disgusted by the disrespect coming from this uncivilized curse, "Have some decorum." Their voice is full of malice, as they ready for another attack.

Deciding to take this chance to observe the curse in front of him, Sukuna doesn't stop Uraume from using Frost Calm. He watches as the cold air quickly makes it way to their adversary. Both curses are left confused as the blast is halted just inches away from the woman's face.

The smile is quickly replaced by a glare and disgusted look. She glances at them, giving the Frost Calm in front of her little thought, "I didn't come here to fight some insignificant, little snowflake."

With that, she sent the attack right back at Uraume. This time, it was different. It was faster, more concentrated, and dripping with an immense amount of cursed energy. Left with no time to react, the smaller curse is sent flying backwards and into some buildings. Their impact is made worse as the ice encases them.

"Compared to the sheer amount of cursed energy you exude, that little pebble was nothing," the woman takes a few steps forward. Only now does Sukuna notice just how unproperly done her robe is. As soon as the binding at her waist ends, there's a large slit that reveals her legs, just short enough to hide her more intimate parts. Even with a lack of shoes, her feet and legs seem to be clean- in fact everything about her seems to be unblemished except for the blood. It leaves the Cursed King confused, but he easily drops it.

If Sukuna wasn't busy observing her and trying to figure out what exactly her cursed technique was, he would find her attire humorous and immature. It reminded him of Yorozu, her naked introduction still recent. A quick thought crosses his mind: is it some new trend for female curses to walk around half-naked? He knows he has no room to speak but at least he wears proper pants.

Coming out of his thoughts, Sukuna lifts his head and smirks ever-so slightly, "You're one to talk, woman."

Anyone could tell that this lady is a talker, and she returns his smile with a mischievous one of her own. "I wouldn't know, I'm new here," she stretches, raising her arms above her head, "All I know is that when I sense something strong- like you- I find it-" her eyes seem to shimmer as she stares into his own crimson ones, "and I take it."

With a little more time to stare into her eyes, Sukuna was able to detect what that excited gleam was: hunger. Some part of him felt a shiver run down his spin when she licked her lips and lowered her arms, "The stronger they are, the better they taste."

This leaves Sukuna chuckling under his breath, willing to humor her, "Aw, so that's it," in an instant, Sukuna is right in front of the woman, towering over her, "you're a dumb little thing that just came to life, hungry for power."

She held her ground, staring up at him confidently with a sort of excitement in her eyes, "I wouldn't say I'm dumb," in retaliation to his attempt at intimidation, she quickly pokes his chest. It was a gentle movement, something he wouldn't have even noticed. If it wasn't for the shocking strength he felt as he was forced to lean back. "but you would be right about the other thing, I just came to be about three days ago."

For any other curse, they would have been sent flying a few meters back. If she were to have used that move on a human, their chest would have been shot open from the force. This interested her even more as she took a simple hop back, only for her to fly high into the air. She then sat herself on a nearby roof, leaning her head on her knees.

"You're the most interesting thing I've found, none of the others could talk, or lasted that move," she grinned down at Sukuna.

Both of them knew this was just banter. The fighting hasn't quite commenced yet. They seemed too invested in the other, neither ready to kill and miss out on this opportunity to chat.

Sukuna glances up at her, crossing a pair of his arms, "Is that meant to impress me, woman?"

She only gives him a cheeky smile, "Not at all, I can tell that you're powerful, feared. Something like that would do nothing to sway you from fighting me." She closes her eyes thoughtfully, "I am curious as to who you are, you'll be the first thing I've ever cared enough to remember the name of. The first. . . 'curse'- if what the humans call me is true- that makes me need to try out my abilities."

His excitement only intensifies- this woman is something else. Sukuna can tell that this battle will be one for him to remember. It won't be simple, one-sided, and consist of him using his cleave to destroy his enemy in a second. He'll really get to go all out, get to have fun.

A rumble reverberates in his chest, a chuckle, "I'm your king, woman." Sukuna slicks his hair back out from his vision, smirking at and teasing the younger curse which only grows as she furrows her brows in anger.

She raises her hand lazily, keeping it level to her head, "You're getting annoying." The woman thinks for a second, before a smile graced her face, as if a light-bulb went off. She stands up from her seated position and jumps to the ground.

Out of annoyance, and some respect for her confidence, Sukuna averts his eyes from her figure as the wind blows her robe about. It doesn't reveal much, and Sukuna might be a tyrant, but he still likes to think of himself as a chivalrous adversary.

When she's on the ground again, she walks right up to him again. Her hands a clasped in front of her, joyfully. In any other circumstance, she would be a puddle of blood for getting this close to the King of Curses. But, Sukuna must admit that her presence has provided him entertainment for the night. So he allows it.

"I know! If I beat you, you'll tell me your name. If you win, I'll tell you mine. I'd love to continue this conversation, as you're the most fascinating thing I've come across in my short life. But- I'm itching to have a little fun." Sukuna listens to her ramble, rolling his eyes at her proposition.

Now, Sukuna can't help but find this plain hilarious. This stupid, little curse is making a simple bet and placing her life on the line. He could almost smack her on the back of her head from how absurd it sounds- but, if he were to agree, he'd get to truly see her abilities.

With a lop-sided grin, Sukuna extends his hand, imbuing it with cursed energy in preparation for the binding vow. He watches as confusion washes onto her face as she stares at his hand.

"What are you doing?" her voice is laced with frustration and bewilderment.

His brows raise before he lets out an exasperated sigh, "I forgot you're new- this" he nods his head to his hand "is a binding vow. It's a promise made with cursed energy that requires us to fulfill it. In this instance, it makes you're silly deal something that must be upheld."

She nods in understanding, taking an extra second to study his hand. She then shakes it, both of them taking a second to feel the difference in hand sizes. Hers is dwarfed within his, practically invisible when held in Sukuna's. This brief touch is also a chance for them to feel the others cursed energy on a closer level, more personal.

From what Sukuna could pick up on, before he dropped her hand, was that this wouldn't be an easy fight. He's both put on edge and roused by the amount of cursed energy coursing through her veins. What makes it even better is that she's completely unaware of the power she's holding.

He can't wait to be the person that forces her to unlock it.

The two take a few simple steps back. Sukuna grips his kamutoke in one hand, readying for battle. The woman, on the other hand, stands gleefully in place. She has no weapon, isn't readying any chants or dances, hell- she doesn't even look serious.

Even with her immature behavior, the female curse looks her enemy in the eyes with an intensity Sukuna's only seen in few. She puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head, "Ready?"

Sukuna nods with content, watching from the corner of his eye as Uraume finally begins to make their way over again. The look he shoots them is enough for the servant to realize this wasn't something for them to interfere in. Instead, they stand in the background, ready to jump in whenever their master needed.

As both curses begin to emit immense amounts of cursed energy in preparation for the fight, Uraume can't help but notice a new emotion reflect in Sukuna's gaze. It's something they've never seen him express before, though most ordinary people usually experience it many times. It leaves them confused and wondering what the hell conspired while they were incapacitated.

The thing that's left Uraume stumped, that's making it's first appearance in the Cursed King's eyes, is admiration.

Admiration for the curse that's about to battle with him to the death.

final notes okay! wow- i'm sorry this took so long! i'm happy to get this ball rolling though, be prepared for some fighting and more explanation in the next part!

oh- also i hope sukuna isn't too ooc in this- it's hard to get that guy down!

hope you enjoyed!

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna imagine #jjk imagines #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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enbyobeyme · 11 months

Text

Vessel of the Gods.

In which MC is a lovecraftian God

Old writing, takes place in the og obey me, GN reader. This was made when the I game had like 40ish lessons so keep that in mind

You aren’t fully human. You may not be human at all actually, but your disguise is good, the Gods made sure of that. Since the day of your creation, it has been your job to be a vessel, a catalyst for higher beings. The God who created you was a kind one who thought that you were meant for something greater, and took a liking to its design. You stood by their side reincarnation, after reincarnation.

You have seen horrors beyond comprehension, Gods in higher dimensions. You have experienced being many different creatures ranging from a 50 foot Lovecraftian with trillions of eyes to a simple cat that helped guide young heroes along their journeys to save the world.

It has always been your job to serve the gods and to be a vessel for their spirit, or power. You guide them, speak for them, and even hold balance across dimensions for the Gods..You have spoken to and housed many gods and deities in your body before. It’s nothing new to you. You’ve met many good gods who are all about virtue and thank you for allowing yourself to be a comprehensible vessel to communicate with others. You’ve also met loathsome gods that you regret not kicking out or even killing with their cruel, prideful ways. Some even give you blessings with immense power as thank-yous that stay even into your next reincarnation.

Reincarnation has its drawbacks, however. Sometimes your memory resets to protect you from other Gods who want to know your secrets. All you know is to do the job you are assigned. Your memory always returns to you at some point. Sometimes towards the end of your life. Sometimes immediately.

Luckily, you started your life in this dimension with your memories off the bat, and in a human body. Whilst trying to do the job you were assigned, you were summoned to the Devildom much to your surprise. Being surrounded by demons nothing new. What was new is being able to be summoned by such weak demons. Curiosity came over you and you wanted to stay to understand this world. Your God allowed you to explore and understand this realm and allowed you to do your job of communicating with The Horsemen on the side.

Whilst doing your duties in the Devildom as an exchange student you also contacted The Horsemen of this realm. Pestilence or Conquest as they’re also called came to talk to you first. They were a creature that disguised themself as a simple plague doctor. They came to you in your dreams. They talked about their life as a horseman, their duties. It was your job to appease them, but Pestilence was already appeased from you listening to their story. Nothing needed to be done.

Diavolo was getting suspicious. He felt… more than one presence whenever you were near. You just ignored him and avoided him the best you can as you continued with your job.

Death was met in the RAD Colosseum. They were a disembodied echo in the abyss of nothing. No physical form. Only a constantly transforming voice.

Lucifer always wondered why you seemed to hang out around there to take ‘phone calls’ he never heard any other voice on the phone.

Death just needed to be escorted to the Mausoleum. You did that easily. Mammon wondered why you wanted to explore the Mausoleum out of the blue.

Famine was a strange one. They disguised themself as a student, as their true gluttonous form was bigger than the devildom. She chose a feminine body to try to blend in but also stick out in the crowd of men you were always surrounded by. She invited you out on a ‘date’ to a more hidden side of town. Leviathan seemed to be jealous that you were going out to dinner with a girl. You felt bad for lying to him.

The minute you stepped into the building you were in another dimension. A huge dinner table stuffed to the brim with food. Famine was the opposite of Beel. She was always full and everyone around her lost their appetite, no matter how hungry they truly were. You both had a chat over dinner. She was kind and to the point. “I do not need anything. There is no need for me without an apocalypse,” you nodded “You only come with the aftermath of War don’t you?” “Yes… most of us do. War is the one who needs appeasing. War looms close over the Devildom. They are not even aware of it.”

That night you got the longest lecture from Asmodeus of all demons. You were gone for almost a full day. You really scared him you know? He thought your date had eaten you! You have to tell him everything. It killed you inside to feed him lies.

War was the only one that ‘possessed you’. In your head, War explained things how they were. If one mistake happens, all three realms would be involved in a devastating war. Your ‘death’ from Belphegor was bad enough, but now there is tension between Micheal and the Lords of the Devildom, along with you as well. You have pacts with all of them.

War was an odd one to house in your head. Their body was flickered between masculine and feminine, but every time you blinked you saw their true Lovecraft form.

War needed you to take them to Diavolo. War must stop this war, or this universe will fall apart.

The next day, you didn’t look like yourself at all. The aura you gave off was menacing and your eyes flickered like a fire. Lucifer knew at that moment that you weren’t you.

“I am sorry for lying to you all about what I am, but this is serious. War needs to speak with everyone.” Just like that, shadows seemed to surround you, and War began to speak. “There is a lot at stake. I need an audience with Diavolo. Now.”

In that moment, all the brothers were terrified of what you truly weren’t. You were far from human.

Lucifer

At first, he understandably very very pissed. You were lying this whole time? And not just any white lie, you made several bold-faced lies. Lucifer didn’t even want to be around you at first. It takes him a bit to understand why you lied

You were trying to protect them, and you were afraid they might hate you. You said something along those lines to him. Yes, you are technically human and you are in a weakened state since you are inside a human vessel, but still! He opened his heart to you, and you didn’t open yours.

After a while, it hits him. You’re a Lovecraft. That had feelings. Lovecraftians tend to be cruel. Lucifer remembers when you were first summoned how stiff and quiet you were. He also remembered that you seemed to hate the Devildom and not understand how things work socially. Mammon, oddly enough, still took a liking to you. You listened to him.

Lucifer thought you would make his precious little brothers sad at first. Honestly, Lucifer was going to threaten you if you tried anything. Then one day he saw you both in the RAD hall, you were smiling and trying your best to interact with Mammon, even if you didn’t really know how.

Lucifer realized that you truly did care about all of them. You weren’t a heartless liar using them, you cared so much about them that you (re)learned emotion.

Lucifer seeks you out after that. He can’t imagine how you feel. You both kinda ‘started over’ except this time, he got to know the real you. The two of you became even closer. You even show off some of the abilities you earned. (Sometimes you use some of your abilities to rejuvenate him and help him relax)

He’s proud to have such a powerful Lovecraft by his side. He supports you in your work and loves to hear all the tales you have to tell. If you ever pass, he will wait for you to return to him in your next life, no matter what form you take.

Mammon

YOU WHAT.

He’s the most hurt out of all of them. You and him were best friends before everyone else! How could you hide this from him? Were you also lying about being his friend? He forgives you pretty quickly once you explain yourself. You do care, you are his friend, that’s why you kept yourself hidden! “Imagine all the other Lovecrafts who might go after you if they knew you associated with me. I have a lot of enemies Mammon, and I would never forgive myself if they hurt you to get to me.”

Mammon fell even harder. He asks all about the Gods you met. He’s also fascinated by all the blessings, and runes on your body and always wants to show you off.

Loves all the cool abilities you have and your kindness. Don’t think for a second he doesn’t stop protecting you. Yeah, you’re strong but your human form is still weak. It’s sweet seeing how much he cares about you. He also tries to teach you more customs you aren’t used to.

Mammon has a lot of questions about your work too. Once he learns how dangerous it is, he wants you to stop. “You can die? And it’s normal to die on the job?” “Yes but it’s rare and I will always be reborn.”

Mammon knows you can’t simply quit your job and that you have to save the world and all that but he worries. He becomes more affectionate with you. Whenever you have to go out on a job, he always makes sure to spoil you a few days before you leave.

When you come back, especially if you look a bit roughed up, he’s in full nurse mode. He really does love you and always will.

Leviathan

Leviathan was both amazed and terrified when he first found out what you really were. He was quick to understand why you kept it hidden. If you were anything else he would have been ecstatic, but you were a Lovecraft, one of the most violent creatures in the universe. You’re his best friend, you weren’t going to try and hurt them… right?

Lovecrafts were known to take over dimensions and cause endless torture and agony for anyone that comes near them. How were you different? Those worries are soon pushed away when you come up and held him close, apologizing for lying but reassuring him that you did care for him. That’s his Henry…

He asks you to show off your abilities the most. “Ooh mimic that” “transform into this” “do the thing again” he’s in awe.

Honestly a bit jealous of your abilities but you’re his BEST FRIEND. Who else are best friends with an incomprehensible god-like being? He still doesn’t know how he got this lucky either.

Speak to your God and ask them to allow you to travel a few dimensions over… Leviathan is ready to propose right then and there when you bring him an interdimensional first edition copy of TSL.

Satan

He’s less terrified in the moment and more mesmerized. You? A Lovecraftian Vessel? For the elder gods?

Its a once in a lifetime opportunity to be able to able to even get a glimpse at something this ancient and powerful, let alone talk to one. You may know or may know where to find all the secrets of the universe!

The realization kicks in after you and War have a private audience together where he’s left alone. You are a Lovecraftian. Lovecraftians are terrifying things with no compassion. Despite them not having empathy they will not hesitate to take over a universe if a fellow Lovecraft is harmed just to justify their cruelty. You could have just put on an act in front of them to gain their trust and end them while they’re most vulnerable.

Satan thinks back to every kiss you shared, every smile, every laugh- was that all a lie? Satan then remembers your development since you first came here, vs now. You even helped him mend his relationship with Lucifer. Those are not the actions of an evil Lovecraft.

When you come out and War leaves you, he gets caught up on what was said. He might as well gather information before he can confront you. He asks Diavolo everything. Satan is surprised at what he learns.

You don’t want anyone to get hurt? You want to save all three realms? You asked your God to stay here because you cared about them? Satan feels relieved but still needs to confront you. Satan doesn’t dance around the subject. “How do I know I can trust you?” “Because I was created with empathy..?” You cringed at your response, but what do you say? “Hmph… I guess I’ll trust you. For now” You just hugged him close for a long time listening to his heartbeat- you will never get over your fascination with mortals.

Satan asks a lot of questions like a giddy kid. “How’s your God like?” “How were you created?” “Why were you created?” “Why do you do your job?” “Do we know of your god?” ”What are you trying to achieve?” “What’s it like to reincarnate?”

He would love to meet a god or hop dimensions with you. Thankfully, your God helped you plan such an outing.

Asmodeus

EW. EW. EW. Lovecrafts are kind of ugly? How could he fall for one- well okay you’re an exception because you’re cute. Surprisingly, he’s the most chill with it? He’s more upset that you felt like you needed to hide.

Despite rumor spreading that you may just be some world-eating scum. He can sense your emotions easily. He felt how much you care about others. How much you cared for him. You are definitely not some world-eater and even if you were he wouldn’t let go of you that easily.

You were the only one who loved him for him and not his looks, You were the only other person who he loves as much as himself. You see him as kind, sweet, passionate- all things he has never heard before. You were rare. You loved him.

Asmodeus will also try to stick up for you against his other brothers or calm them with a ‘well they haven’t hurt us, have they?’ he truly believes you are not evil. He asks you a lot of questions once you feel better from dropping the bomb on everyone.

He tries to ask you more… meaningful questions. What is your home like? Are you happy here? Are you happy doing what you do? How are you holding up? It has been a long time since someone you these kinds of things.

Asmodeus loves your abilities and all the stories and beauty hacks you picked up over the years. He hears that your God takes some time to redesign you and come up with something you would also like. Asmo keeps you in mind every time he designs something. No matter what form you take he will always be prepared to have self-care days that you both enjoy. Even after a long day of dimension-hopping, he’ll run a bath for you.

You plan on surprising him with your shapeshifting ability someday. He did say that he wanted to date himself after all...

Beelzebub

So… your kind can potentially hurt his family. He’s very conflicted. On one hand, he understands why you kept yourself hidden, on another, your lie could have gone wrong. Hells, you were possessed by war. You speak to gods! Gods that might want to hurt demons!

Beelzebub gives you the benefit of the doubt. You did warn them and try to help their realms after all. You also helped his brother and chose to forgive his twin, despite what he did. There’s no way you would hurt his family.

Beelzebub also gets super protective of you. While making your way to the castle with War possessing you, other demons figured out quickly that you weren’t human. Rumors spread quickly. Rumors of you trying to kill the prince, of you being dangerous. Some demons even wanted to see your fall. Beelzebub speaks out against the rumors and comforts you.

“It’s okay I’m quite old you get used to it…” “You shouldn’t…” Beel doesn’t treat you any differently than before. You were family then, your family now. Beel is a bit more relieved that you’re stronger than you look.

You may be his new workout partner. With your abilities, you can help him get stronger, and also help with his hunger. Sometimes when he can’t sleep, you tell him stories of your past.

Being a dimensional being, you’re able to talk to your God and even the dead if they allow it. He cried when you were able to take him to see some past memories of Lilith in a different dimension. “She never blamed you, Beel. Even now, I can feel the love she felt for you.”

Belphegor

He didn’t like humans. He hates Lovecraftians. He also hates liars. But… he likes you… This was complicated. He doesn’t know how to feel. He tried to kill you, he lied to you. Why does he not know how to feel.

“MC… how are you related to Lilith?” “...” “MC tell me!” “I…” “TELL ME!”

You told him the truth. You traveled dimension through dimension. Where did Lilith go when she died? She was kicked out of heaven, became a human, and died with no way to hell. She came to your dimension- an infinite incomprehensible universe. She was a lonely spirit traveling where she met you.

You never met anyone like her, so brave and kind. You both got along well, she helped you with jobs, told you about her family and how much she loved all of them. How she missed them. Kindness towards you was rare, and you wanted to repay it. Your God also tried to help you repay it, you were their loyal subject. All that you could do, was to also give her the ability to reincarnate. So you did. Lilith can experience all kinds of universes and paths of life. Her soul rubbed off on you, hence why you are ‘related’ to her.

Belphegor wanted to try and kill you again in that moment. He knew he couldn’t but how dare you. How dare you not tell him. How dare you get to see her again? He was so, so jealous and would have attacked you if War possessed you again and held him still. Tears ran down his face and he screamed in frustration.

It takes a while after for him to calm down. He knows he acted out but he’s still racked with guilt and grief and he took it out on you- again. All he ever seems to do is hurt you. You came to him first, “She never, ever blamed you, Belphie. She loved you all so much…” Belphie eventually accepted it and for once, it’s like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. He grabbed you and held you close to him, sobbing and apologizing over and over.

That same year as you walked the streets of Devildom along side Belphie, you felt a... Familiar energy. Belphegor looked over at you, worried something was wrong. You held out your hand to the small cat that approached you. “Welcome home, Lilith"

Diavolo

He was a bit… Terrified. At first. He is powerful, but Lovecrafts are a few dimensions above him. He has seen refugee demons from other dimensions whose worlds were corrupted and destroyed. His father warned him to not deal with Lovecrafts- they are beyond reason and not worth the headache no matter how powerful you were.

Diavolo had suspicions that you didn’t seem to act much like a human, he just assumed it was fear or shyness from being summoned. He should have put it together sooner...The strange references and ways of speaking, the strange energies within you, the ancient runes that covered his body. How foolish of him.

When we saw your hollow vessel you called a body, possessed by War itself he was put in shock from the energy you gave. “Diavolo. It has been too long. Come. Let’s talk.” The last time he has seen War is when he was a child. His father had many meetings with War during the Celestial War brewing at the time.

Diavolo sat upon his throne, Barbatos at his side protectively, and looked down at you- at War as they began to speak. “Your universe is on the brink of absolute destruction. Interdimensional corruption infests your world. It will destroy everything from the inside. Soon, war will start between all realms as the universe collapses. This Lovecraftian vessel was sent upon your realm to protect it… Please cooperate with them, lest there will be nothing left…”

Diavolo wanted to ask so much, but as soon as War came, he was gone. Your body felt limp, runes lit up and dulled as the soul of War left you. Diavolo stared down at you carefully, gold eyed staring holes into your head. Could he trust you?

“Tell me what you need,” he spoke in a dull, uncaring tone, it was simultaneously demanding and bored. You nodded, “Corruption roots its way into people first, transforming them into beasts from the inside. They get hostile and attack, spreading the disease. I tracked down the source. All I need is your permission to eliminate them.” Diavolo waved his hand dismissively. It’s surprising how cruel he can be, you don’t blame him.

Diavolo gave you permission and dismissed you to do what you must. As you left for a few days to clean up the Devildom. He had some soul searching to do for himself. He was conflicted. He was taught Lovecrafts were never to be trusted, yet here he was now letting one in the Devildom. It took him time to reflect on everything. Diavolo refused to see the world through his father’s lens. He abandoned his own people.

Diavolo goes with his heart and trusts you. Once you come back from your duty, he calls you to his office. Once you’re there he asks you to sit with him. You both speak for a long time, sharing stories from times forgotten. You both open up to each other more. Diavolo then goes silent, thinking, before he thanks you, voice wavering. You saved his people yet again. He is in your debt. The conversation for the rest of the night was nice. It was great to finally talk about your home after so many years away from it. He jokes about your Deity being the God of the Devildom.

Diavolo throws a party in your honor, being sure to show that he has united not two, not three, but four realms. Diavolo now has a Lovecraftian warrior on his side, and he also defends your honor when he hears rumors and slurs being thrown at you. His people are understandably terrified- but that doesn’t mean you should be punished for sins you haven’t committed.

Diavolo grows… softer for you. He finds your abilities amazing and loves to hear you rant about your God/Deity and your culture, your home. It’s all so fascinating to him. You kinda become a knight of the Devildom, keeping balance between dimensions. No matter what you may have to do, what you reincarnate into, or where you go, you will always have a home in the Devildom.

Barbatos

How interesting. He did not at all see this coming. Barbatos had his suspicions that there was more to you, but he never expected… this… His liege comes first, however, and Barbatos makes sure to keep a close eye on you as he gathers his thoughts. He has never felt any ill-will or bad intentions from you at any point, but it never hurt to be cautious. For some reason, he felt a little hurt when he did so.

Barbatos liked you, he fell for you. He rarely got close to anyone. It was rare for him to fall in love or even be friends with someone unless he knew them for years and here you were- able to make him melt within a year. He was fascinated with the effect you had on him- but also disgusted. Like he got… soft. It was so strange to be by his master’s side as you- no- War spoke prophecies through your body about the end of time. He felt… numb in a way. You both were so close.

Barbatos didn’t want to lose that- He already had his time-traveling abilities which he rarely used so he could actually enjoy life as it went and he was happy he didn’t use them when you were around. You genuinely surprised him and excited him. He knew you were different from other Lovecrafts- you had to be. Barbatos was greedy and was not planning to let you go so easily.

You proved him right when you did everything you could to unite the realms when you solved the brother’s family issues when you took time out of your day just to thank him. Here you were- yet again proving him right by trying to protect his home.

Barbatos never bothered or asked about the Lovecraftian side of you. It never mattered to him then, and it won’t matter now, but he does love it when you talk about the dimensions. He can even relate to it sometimes with his time travel powers. Barbatos never traits you any differently- only now he knows that you don’t need protection.

He knows how hard your job must be. Interacting with a bunch of powerful being dimensions above you. You were also a servant in a way. You both got close cause of that. It was nice complaining and letting loose in the presence of each other with no need to be professional. He has always found your abilities useful and will ask if you can help him with more strenuous tasks. “You can lift about a few hundred times your weight right? Can you help me relocate the statues in the old colosseum?”

You even one-time shapeshifted into Barbatos when he was sick. You turned off his watch and his alarm and took over his tasks for the day as Barbatos slept in. When he woke up- he panicked until he saw himself across the room. The doppelganger shifted back. “Please- rest more I’ll take over for today…” He is… In love...

It’s a secret between the two of you but sometimes you take him a few dimensions over to show him all the strange teas, ingredients, and spices the multiverse has to offer. He now has a secret garden that only a few know about, filled with all the gifts you have given him.

Barbatos knows that it will soon be time for you to leave this realm, and to be honest, he is not ready for it. Barbatos knows that your job is important and that you both will meet again. When you’re gone he spends a lot of time reminiscing in the garden and tending to the plants.

He notices that a bird has gotten in and is also tending to the plants. He can recognize your soul anywhere. So this is the form of your next life? No matter the reincarnation you always meet him in the secret garden, and he always welcomes you back into his heart.

Luke

Fear. If demons were terrifying- Lovecrafts were worse. Demons may embody sin but Lovecrafts make them. Lovecrafts are dangerous. He knows. There have been many horror stories of angels who have never returned from scouting- or warriors who go off to fight an interdimensional interloper, just to find out it’s a Lovecraft. Angels have their wings torn and their halos bent if they are lucky, but most of the time they just become a hollow shell of an angel- corrupted by the presence of such a high being. Some of them are even more incomprehensible than God himself.

You were a Lovecraft- a monster in Luke’s eyes. That broke his heart. You were a sibling to him- his best friend. And you- you are the enemy? All the times you both hung out, baked together, the time you protected him from Lucifer, ready to fight to defend him- was it all a lie to get him to trust you? He… He needs to talk to Simeon.

Simeon does not give him an answer. Simeon told him that he could tell Luke how to feel about you- it was up to him. Luke refused to believe you were evil. You couldn’t be! But he will admit. He is young. He doesn’t have experience with this kind of thing. He didn’t know much about the horsemen.

He overheard everyone talking about the Lovecraftian exchange student- even rumors that you were trying to save the realms- then more about wanting to destroy it. Luke wanted to get to the bottom of it. He didn’t care if it hurt- he wanted the truth.

Luke took up the courage to go up to you himself in your room. He held himself together until he saw you when the door opened- images of your possessed body and you in front of him- ready to die for him flashed into his head. He burst into tears and buried his face into your shirt, his hands balling into fists as he grabs your shirt.

You hugged him close to you. “It’s okay Luke, I’m here, I did swear to always look after you, right little bro?” He sobbed harder. “Y-you-you? They… They all said that you were e-evil! B-b-but I KNOW it’s not t-true, right?! I know it is not!” Luke was ugly sobbing at this point. You cradled his head in your hands and hold him.

You told him everything- from your home, your dimension, your job, your deity, your intentions, and everything he wanted to know. Luke held onto every word. “I swore to protect you- and that means your home as well.” “I knew it! You were looking after everyone!” Luke sniffles and hugs you closer. You were the best sibling anyone could ever have. He really looks up to you.

Luke doesn’t understand everything at first and he may need some explanation. Your powers fascinated him. You end up shapeshifting a lot to impress him, or telling some very weird recipes across dimensions that you both make together to see if it actually works (most of it can put Solomon’s cooking to shame. Seriously eldritch horrors need some taste buds.

Sometimes, you watch over him from above or disguise yourself as an alley cat to give him a small boost in emotion he gets from a wild cat “accidentally” guiding him to where he was supposed to go. It takes him some time to understand other gods. Is it strange he wants to meet yours?

You do take him to see your interdimensional home in the stars where your god lay. Luke was fascinated by all. The creepy but oddly cute creatures, the beautiful but also endless landscape, time didn’t feel real, and sometimes if he thought hard enough, the area around him changes.

Luke is very much conflicted with your job and reincarnations. On one hand, you don’t die, but on the other, your job is very hard. He gets kinda grumpy about it, and when it is time for you to reincarnate, it gives him a sense of happiness that no matter what form he takes, you will be there to cheer for him.

Simeon

Ah. That’s… concerning… Lovecraftians… He is not going to judge you yet. You haven’t done anything yet. It wasn’t fair to blame you for the atrocities that your kind have committed. He goes to Diavolo and Lucifer first, asking about what happened. When he realizes that you are in a way, a warlock or vessel, he needs some time to think about it.

He doesn’t believe your evil. An evil person would not have helped him nor Luke, let alone mend the brother relationship and try and protect the Devildom. You also put your life on the line to protect Luke. Even if you were evil in the past, you at least are trying to repent and get better and he would help with that.

Simeon goes to you, ignoring all the rumors and warnings spread about you. “Ah, hello there MC. How have you been holding up?” “You’re here just to see if the rumors are true, aren’t you?” Simeon frowned, “I know you aren’t anything like the rumors say you are. I came to check up on you- I can’t imagine how you feel…” You hugged Simeon, face pressed into his chest and your hands enjoying the warmth of his bare back.

Simeon does admit he wishes you were a bit more truthful, however, he doesn’t blame you after watching the fallout from the Devildom knowing. Simeon comforts you for a bit. He decided to talk to you for a bit, asking some questions to ease his curiosity. Watching your expression sadden when you mention your home, makes him realize how homesick you truly were.

Simeon asks a lot about your Deity and your abilities. He finds it all fascinating and finds himself writing a new book series based around the things you told him- he finds it inspiring and it’s a step in the direction of people accepting you.

In a way, he relates Seraphs, Archangels, and all those ranks to your job. Simeon can’t imagine the pressure you’re under and all you have seen over the years. You even tell him about your ability to host gods in your body which he would like to try out. It’s up to you to show him. You tell him stories about reincarnation, he hopes in the back of his mind that when it is time for your departure, you may become an angel in your next life with him.

Until then, he will stay by your side and support you when you come back from a rough job. Simeon heals up any wounds you may have and lets you rest. You often thank him back by helping him sneak out from the Celestial Realm to take a break in your realm where you both have no worries. He loves to see all the strange creatures and cultures in your lonely home. Maybe you may carry his soul with you when his time comes.

Solomon

He has no fear or worries upon learning of what you were. He is the opposite, in fact, Solomon knows that you won’t hurt anyone, and it isn’t his first time dealing with something like this either. You’re old and knowledgeable, you most definitely are powerful as well, a strong ally to have. Maybe he can make a pact with you?

Solomon is still concerned for you though, you are his friend after all. You do seem down from all attention on you. He knows, however, that having someone pity and coddles you must be frustrating. He instead bothers you in a very Solomon way. Solomon comes over with some… ‘food’ he made you and decides to gossip with you.

“You know, you must have knowledge and all types of stories to tell.” You both ended up dragging and gossiping about certain gods and goddesses. “Fuck Zeus bro, he couldn’t take a hit and kept trying to get inside me in more ways than one!” You both had good laughs and made a lot of old jokes only the two of you would understand.

Solomon waits for you to calm down before he asks with his smug tone “You know, I would love to make a pact with you…” “I’ll… Consider it.” He jokes about making a pact with you a lot, having a Deity Vessel under your control would be helpful, especially with your ability to communicate with gods. You also share with him bits of forgotten knowledge, lost in time. You also tell him ancient cooking techniques in hopes he gets the hint. (he doesnt)

You do end up making a pact with him at some point. Throughout the years, reincarnation, after reincarnation, he is always able to summon you to him once again and you never tire of his antics. Even if you don’t remember him at first, you always end up falling for him time and time again. You both become a bit well known among those who study magic. Stories and tales of a powerful wizard and the incomprehensible eldritch horror traveling together and saving universes and going on dates at coffee shops ran by angels are spread around. You both are legends and monsterfucker icons.

He starts to also ask for your help with things a lot more- “This Arcane book filled with ancient knowledge is written in Tounges? Can you read it?” “This spell was never recorded properly and has a lot of missing pieces, can you go over it with me, I feel like you may recognize this.”

You and Solomon also travel through dimensions together a lot. Sometimes he asks you to take him to your world or to go with you on a job when you have to deal with some gods. In a way, you both become apprentices to each other. Solomon also offers to help with your reincarnation, he has a few spells to help keep your soul in a certain domain…

Either way, he is always there for you, and when his time comes, you will be there for him, ready to guide him through your dimension.

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