#they can mimic the voices of people they hear

[ohno-the-sun]

Short comic about some ideas I’ve had about @oobbbear farm au.

#fnaf daycare attendant #sundrop #moondrop #fnaf sb #fnaf fanart #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf au #farm au #cursed au #this took way too long omg #just watch tumblr mess up the formatting #tw body horror #love the au tho #reminds me of home #also crows are menaces I love them #they can mimic the voices of people they hear #it’s the main basis for a lot of superstitions about doppelgängers #my art #fanartception #human version

[crystallinestars]

How They React to Your Death

My HCs about how I think the Genshin boys would react to your death. I wanted to write Kaeya too, but ran out of steam.

This month has been terrible to me, so I was in the mood for angst. I don't know how well these turned out, but they were fun to think about.

Characters: Alhaitham, Childe, Heizou, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, and Wriothesley

WARNING:

Reader has death descriptions. Some are more graphic than others, but I don't get into the nitty gritty details.

Spoilers for the backstories of all the mentioned boys.

MAJOR SPOILERS for Act V of the Fontaine Archon quest in Neuvillette's part.

Childe's part contains mention of suicidal thoughts.

Kaveh's and Venti's parts contain alcoholism

🎧 Alhaitham

Despite Alhaitham’s considerable wealth, no amount of money could cure your Eleazar sickness. His money could only buy treatment that prolonged your life a little bit, but ultimately your many years of battling the illness ended when he got news from the doctors that you had passed away in your sleep.

Alhaitham had accepted the news fairly quickly. He knew your death was inevitable, could see you slowly wasting away each time he visited you in the hospital over the past few months. So it was no surprise to him when the day finally came. The other patients and staff thought it strange how Alhaitham had no visible reaction to the news, but some chalked it up to shock when in truth the Scribe was simply accepting of that fact. There was no use denying something that already happened.

When Alhaitham came home that day, the house felt silent and empty. It reminded him of how the house felt when his grandmother passed away when he was younger. The sensations were similar. However, he did not cry over your death. Instead, he carried on his life as normal, or as close to it as he could now that you were no longer a part of what he considered ‘normal’.

At first glance, people thought that Haitham was unaffected by your death. Nothing about him changed. Not his mannerisms, his quality of work, or his expression. He remained the same reserved, stoic Scribe who had no time for trivial nonsense or extra work. He also never talked about you to others aside from confirming their question if you were truly gone. Alhaitham was like a well-oiled machine that worked efficiently like clockwork, keeping up the same even rhythm.

What they don’t see is how he comes home with the expectation of hearing your voice greet him upon entering, only to be faced with a defeating silence that makes his heart sink. They don’t know that Alhaitham wakes up throughout the night, expecting to find you snuggled up next to him in bed the way you used to before your sickness got worse, and you had to be hospitalized. However, you weren’t there no matter how many times he looked towards your side of the bed, and the Scribe could only sigh and try to fall back asleep while ignoring his aching heart.

No one sees how Alhaitham gets too lost in his books in the mornings and accidentally makes two cups of coffee instead of one due to force of habit. Or how, for once, he finds the silence of his house bothersome without your voice and the sounds of your activities resounding within the walls, and it’s enough to distract him from reading. He could be found reading at the House of Daena and Puspa Café more often from then on.

During his afternoon naps, Alhaitham sneaks back home and cradles your favorite blanket to mimic the sensation of holding your soft body in his arms the way he used to when you joined him for naps. He listens to recordings of you talking with him just so he can hear your voice again. He was glad he made the decision to record your voice at the hospital before you became too weak to speak. It gave him the chance to hear you one more time even if the sound of your voice made his chest hurt so much that he occasionally had to stop the recording to collect himself.

Nobody sees how Alhaitham finally picks up the fiction books you recommended him because they were your favorite. He prefers non-fiction, but these books are the last things he has left through which he could connect to your mind and way of thinking. He reads them all cover-to-cover even if he finds the story lacking or the writing not to his taste. He will learn to treasure each and every word because you once did.

What someone might see, as Kaveh did when he moved in with the Scribe, is a bookshelf filled with a few journals, a thick book with an emerald cover, and an assortment of fiction books that exist nowhere else in the house. Alhaitham never talks about these books unless asked, but their well-worn covers are a sign of frequent use, and sure enough, one can catch him reading a rare fiction book during one specific month each year.

🐋 Childe

You went missing after going out to collect some firewood in the woods near Childe’s home. A search party was arranged to find you with Childe in the lead, and he was also the first one to find your remains. Your body had been torn apart, blood and innards splattered across the snow, no doubt the work of some rifthounds. Usually, Childe would relish in such a gory sight, but not this time. Not when it’s your blood and flesh painted in the snow.

The sight leaves him numb. He’s numb when the search party comes to retrieve you, numb when he sees your parents weeping over your gruesome death, and numb when he takes on the duty of exterminating every rifthound he finds around Morepesok.

He wants to cry too, to grieve for you the way he needs, but refrains. He doesn’t want to appear weak and unreliable when his younger siblings mourn and cry over your death. You were like family to them, and your death broke their little hearts to pieces. Childe didn’t want to burden his siblings further by breaking down in front of them. He needed to remain a reliable older brother who could support them through this tough time, even when his own heart bled and he cried in his sleep when he dreamed about you.

Childe’s underlings noted that the Eleventh Harbinger became colder and more irritable after your passing. Any mention of your name would garner the speaker a harsh glare, and if Childe assumed what said person said about you was disrespectful, he didn’t hesitate to start a fight and beat the other person within an inch of their life. He became violent and unhinged, much like how he used to be when he returned from the Abyss as a fourteen-year-old boy.

Childe knew his behavior was irrational, and it pained him to see even his own family fear him due to his violent actions. He felt restless. Spending time at home among your belongings summoned feelings of longing and sadness, but even so, he couldn’t bear to throw anything away. He lived among the ghosts of your existence, however, it drove him mad with grief.

Childe needed an outlet for his emotions, so he took to fighting monsters and other strong opponents. He became even more reckless in battle. If before, the Harbinger sought out strong enemies to test his mettle against them and grow stronger as a result, now he sought out an opponent that would be worthy of taking his life.

Childe didn’t want to abandon his family. He loved them dearly and wanted to see his siblings grow up to be happy and successful people, but life without you felt so hollow. A part of him wanted to return to his family, but the sense of his family feeling incomplete never left him. You were just as much of a family to him as his siblings and parents were. He had plans to start his own family with you. But now… now, a part of him yearns to reunite with you in the afterlife. He promised he would stay by your side no matter what, and Ajax is not one to break his promises.

🔍 Heizou

Heizou was one of the first to hear about your stabbing that occurred in an Inazuman alleyway late that evening. You were rushed to a doctor to have your wound treated, but the robber who attacked you hit a vital area. Your blood loss was colossal, and it wasn’t long after arriving at the doctor’s that you succumbed to your injury.

To Heizou, the news brought on a sense of deja vu. He’s already lost a friend to crime in the past, and now he lost you to crime, too. The knowledge made him furious and heartbroken. He was angry at the robber for stabbing you just so he could steal some money that you didn’t want to part with, and he was angry at himself for failing to prevent this. After his friend passed away, Heizou swore to nip crime in the bud by discouraging criminals from committing crimes with the threat that he would find and capture them no matter what without fail. But what good did his resolve do if you still died because of an armed robber?

The heartache and guilt he felt ate away at him as the memory of your ashen face during your last few moments haunted him. He lost you. Never again would he get to spend time with you and make you laugh, kiss and hug you, or tell you he loved you.

His anger drove him to capture the murderer in record time, but hearing the criminal’s subsequent sentence for theft and murder didn’t comfort the detective. No amount of jail time would ever atone for the loss of your life.

After that day, Heizou lost his playful demeanor, becoming somber and reserved. He threw himself into his work, feeling pressured to capture as many criminals as he could in as little time as possible. However, his grief and exhaustion caused his mind to dull and make mistakes while investigating clues. It got to the point where Kujou Sara had to forcibly send him on vacation so he could take a break and properly process your death.

Despite his protests, Heizou knew he wasn’t much use in his current state, so he took this free time to visit your family and mourn together with them. He apologized for not doing a better job of protecting you, fully expecting your parents to lay blame on him for not protecting their child. To his surprise, your parents didn’t blame him at all. They even thanked him for catching the murderer and helping them to feel a little more at peace. Heizou’s interaction with your family helped him feel a tiny bit less guilty about your death.

The experience left him feeling a little less broken, so in the following days he sorted through your belongings in your shared home. He packed away some items to return to your parents, some things he put in storage, and others he gave away that he remembered you wanting to get rid of. A few of your items he kept for himself, one of which was a scarf you mentioned you bought because it was the same shade of green as his eyes which reminded you of him.

Heizou wore your scarf as a keepsake and good luck charm and would hardly be seen without it when he finally came back to work. What once served as your reminder of him, now served as his reminder of you, the person he loved with his whole being. But with the memories of you came the reminder of how you died. Though the memory was painful, it helped Heizou work up the will to keep pursuing his goal of eradicating crime. Even when the case was extremely tough with conflicting clues, your scarf would remind him to not give up, to not let another incident like yours happen again, and Heizou would persevere. He would continue to persevere no matter how long it took because he didn’t want innocent lives like yours to be snatched away so cruelly. Maybe one day, he will see you in the afterlife and proudly tell you all about how he achieved his dream. Until then, he will work hard to be worthy of the title of Inazuma’s best detective.

🍷 Kaveh

Kaveh had a lot of work to do. He was saddled with creating drafts for another large project while also trying to work on the commission for constructing a library in Aaru village for the children. Wanting to help alleviate his burden, you offered to take the finished drafts over to Aaru village yourself so he could focus on finishing up work for his other project. Kaveh tried to object, saying you really didn’t need to trouble yourself on his behalf, but you insisted, expressing your desire to help him finish his work sooner so the two of you could spend more time together again. After some deliberation, he let you go to the village by yourself, confident that you could make the trip since you accompanied him there several times before.

A few days later, Kaveh received news that you had died on your return trip from the desert. When he heard the cause of your death, his stomach roiled. You perished in quicksand just like his father. You died doing something for his sake, just like his father did.

Whatever future plans he was building together with you, whatever progress you made in helping him slowly heal from his trauma, it all came crashing down around him. Your death reopened old wounds Kaveh was only starting to heal from, as well as left new scars that tormented him every waking moment.

The first few weeks, Kaveh couldn’t stand to be in your shared home. It was full of memories of you, and each and every one of your belongings would stab at his heart like a blade. Moreover, the house felt so silent without you around. It reminded him of when his mother left for Fontaine, leaving him alone in a house too big for only him to live in. Now, he was reliving that moment all over again, but it was worse this time because, unlike his mother, he would never see you again.

Kaveh also couldn’t stand to look inside his sketchbooks. The pages were covered in various sketches of you, and looking at them only made the anguish and guilt grow in him tenfold. He blamed himself for your death, attributing it to being his fault just like he attributes his father’s death as his fault too. No matter what anyone says to console him, he will never stop believing it’s all his fault.

Fueled by guilt and self-loathing, Kaveh spent several weeks visiting Lambad’s tavern practically every day. One could even say he lived there since the architect seldom went home. He used what little money he had to buy alcohol, especially of the stronger kind. He wanted to numb the pain in his heart and to pretend that you weren’t really gone from this world. The alcohol helped to muddle his mind until his intoxicated brain conjured happy memories of you together, and Kaveh would mumble your name in a drunken haze. Other times it didn’t help, and Alhaitham, Cyno, or Tighnari could often find a drunk Kaveh quietly crying while slumped over a table and trying their best to drag him home while listening to his drunken babble of self-loathing and regret.

It will take a long time for Kaveh to feel okay again, and even then, he will never be the same optimistic and cheerful person he used to be. You were his muse, the one who made him feel like maybe he was deserving of love after all. But with you gone, he lost his creative spark. His designs no longer held the same extravagant and artistic flair they used to. Now, they’re more tame by comparison. With your passing, you took with you the little bit of joy he felt towards the world, and it seemed more bleak than it used to be when he was with you.

Kaveh refused to seek out love after your death. He’s lost too many people he held dear and has been left alone over and over again. The pain of being left behind and of feeling like he will only bring misfortune to those he cares about, made him seal off his heart. He doesn’t want to let people close to him like that again, and neither does he want to replace you. You were, and still are, very special to him.

Despite numerous years going by after your passing, Kaveh never forgot you, and he didn’t want your memory to be forgotten either. He built an art school and dedicated it to you in honor of being the one who inspired him so much in his creative endeavors. He hopes that your name will live on and continue to inspire future generations of artists long after he is gone from the world.

🎩 Lyney Having grown up in the House of the Hearth with Lyney and Lynette, the twins were practically like family to you. Though admittedly, Lyney and you developed romantic ties rather than familial ones the more you got to know each other. It was no surprise to anyone when the two of you became a couple, and Lynette even encouraged it.

Being a member of the Fatui, you were often sent out on dangerous missions to infiltrate enemy territory and report your findings back to Arlecchino. You were good at your job and had major successfully completed missions under your belt, but even the best slip up sometimes. After infiltrating enemy headquarters, you regularly reported your findings back to the House, however, one day the correspondence stopped. You went completely silent. The thought of you being caught immediately crossed Lyney’s mind, but he was hopeful that as an experienced agent, you would manage to find a way out somehow. You always have in the past, and after having worked together with you during joint missions, he saw first-hand how capable you were. To pass the time, he focused on polishing a magic trick he wanted to show you upon your return.

Days go by, and just as the magician is about to lose his patience and run off to try and find you, news about your body washing up on a riverbank reaches his ears. The heartbreak Lyney experiences upon hearing the news is indescribable. He felt lost, disoriented, and anguished. A part of him refused to believe the facts, but after witnessing the gruesome sight of your corpse, he had no choice but to face reality.

You were dead.

Lyney wondered at length about the cause of your death, and while his own guesses made his stomach knot, the autopsy report he read a few days later made him livid. Numerous torture and abuse marks were found on your body. It seemed that the enemy had captured and tortured you, hoping to force you to spill some of the Fatui’s secrets. Judging by the severity of the most recent wounds, you must have kept quiet because more brutal torture methods were used on you until the enemy figured out they wouldn’t get anything out of you, and disposed of you. Lyney knew how loyal you were to your family. You would never betray them even at the cost of your own life, but in that moment, he really wished you would have treasured your life more. Maybe then you could have survived. Maybe then he would have had the chance to hold you in his arms and tell you he missed you while you were gone. Maybe he would have had an opportunity to show off the magic trick he created specifically for your eyes only. But now, he’ll continue to miss you until the day death comes for him too. Lyney’s initial reaction upon hearing of your torture is overwhelming fury. Lynette had to hold him back from recklessly running off to take revenge against the enemy. It took a lot of reasoning on her part, but eventually, her brother calmed down.

Once his bout of anger passed, Lyney broke down. Lynette didn’t hide her own tears as she held her brother in her arms while he cried. The siblings both missed you dearly and mourned your loss, but Lyney took your death especially hard. He felt broken. One of his most precious people was taken from him in such a cruel manner, and the mere thought of how you must have spent your last few waking hours made him feel horrible.

He was anguished and angry, and the potent concoction of negative emotions weighed down on his heart and mind. Gone was his cheerful smile and outgoing attitude, replaced with a cold and somber frown. His calculative side took center stage. Though his initial burst of outrage passed, he wouldn’t give up on his desire for revenge until the act had been carried out. Aside from the twins, Arlecchino also refused to take your death lying down. You were her precious child, someone she put in a lot of love and effort to raise, and this transgression angered her as much as it angered Lyney. Together with Arlecchino, Lyney and Lynette infiltrate enemy headquarters and make every person a part of that organization pay. The magician ensures that the perpetrators experience the same pain you went through during your torture, and by the time they’re done, not a soul is left alive.

Even after exacting revenge, Lyney barely feels a smidge better. Though your captors have been neutralized and won’t hurt anyone the way they hurt you ever again, it doesn’t satisfy Lyney. At the end of the day, all he wants is to have you back in his life. He consoles himself with pieces of your clothing. Your clothes smelled like you, and Lyney hugged one of your items every night, breathing in your scent and soaking the material with his tears as he quietly cried. It takes a long time for Lyney to get himself together and act like himself again. Though he could easily put on a fake smile for his audience, his heart still aches inside. He misses you no matter how many months go by, and Lynette has her hands full comforting him when he breaks down at night and cries about how much he wants to see you. Lyney would have had an easier time accepting your death if you had passed away more peacefully, but knowing you were tortured to death will forever haunt him.

Once he feels more like himself, Lyney incorporates the magic trick he originally wanted to show you upon your return into his magic shows. He only performs it during special occasions so it would leave a great spectacle upon his audience. It was once made to awe you, but now it awes his audience, and a part of him feels some semblance of catharsis in knowing he could inspire others to feel the same joy you made him feel using just this trick. At times like these, Lyney feels as if a part of you was still there with him, enjoying the show he secretly dedicates in your honor.

⚖️ Neuvillette

You were visiting your friend Navia in Poisson, when the Primordial Sea flooded the area and caused a great catastrophe that took the lives of many of its residents. Neuvillette was aware you were in Poisson when the disaster struck, and he tried to get there as quickly as he could to check on you. He would have arrived there immediately were it not for the pressing matters he had to settle prior. He hoped the Traveler and Paimon would find you and keep you safe since they knew you were the Iudex’s beloved.

When he finally made it to Poisson, to his morbid surprise, he found neither you nor Navia, but some Fatui members helping to mitigate the damage. When he asked about your whereabouts, he was told that nobody had seen you. Immediately, his thoughts ventured to the worst scenario, but he refused to believe in his fears until he could get confirmation. He held out hope that you were alright, and went in pursuit of Navia and the Traveler, hoping that maybe you were with them, or they knew what happened to you.

It wasn’t until he was saving Navia from getting dissolved in the Primordial Sea water, did he catch a glimpse of your face. You were trying to protect Navia from certain death, along with Silver and Meluse. At the time he was too anxious about saving Navia to fully register the implication, but an unsettling thought sprang in his mind that maybe you really were— No, he didn’t want to accept it.

When Navia regained consciousness, Neuvillette asked her about your whereabouts. Her answer pierced through him like an ice-cold lance. With tears in her eyes, Navia recounted how you were helping Silver and Meluse rescue the residents of Poisson when the Primordial Sea flooded in, and how she saw your body dissolve in the water along with her loyal subordinates with her own eyes. The news settled in Neuvillette’s stomach like a boulder, causing it to sink and make him feel nauseous. Dread filled him, but he could only muster a quiet “I see…” and stare off into the distance. He felt crushing sadness, but he wasn’t given time to properly process his emotions and your death until he managed to make it out of the ruins.

That evening, Fontaine was hit by a torrential downpour that lasted several days. The rain fell in heavy sheets, flooding the streets and urging most of the citizens to seek shelter in their homes. Only the Chief Justice had the gall to stand outside and let the rain seep and soak through his clothes.

Neuvillette let the water droplets cascade down his face, imitating the tears he wished to shed as the realization that he would never see you again settled in. It was strange. Though he was on land, each waking moment he was pursued by a constant feeling of drowning. His chest felt heavy as if burdened by a great weight that made each breath he took feel like a herculean task.

Neuvillette felt a lot of emotions he couldn’t find the words for. He was frustrated and angry that innocent civilians had died in the flood because nothing was done to prevent it. So many people died. You died. If nothing else, he wanted to get justice for your and the others’ deaths.

However, Furina refused to provide answers to his questions despite his probing and insistence that now was not the time to keep secrets that could potentially help prevent an even greater catastrophe. That was when he turned to seeking aid from his companions, in the hopes that Fontaine could still be saved. Neuvillette lost and gained many things in those few days. The citizens of Fontaine were freed of their curse, and Neuvillette had obtained a position of complete authority, however, it all came at the cost of the lives of innocent civilians, Focalors’s life, Furina’s mental state, and… your life. Those were great prices to pay, and Neuvillette mourned each and every sacrifice.

Now that he had some time to himself to process his feelings, Neuvillette recognized that what he felt was grief and longing. He wanted to see you at least one more time, to feel you in his arms again. To have you taken from him so suddenly was too painful. He never got to tell you one last ‘I love you’, and he could only hope that his words reach you wherever your consciousness might be now. Fontaine will see frequent rainfall in the coming months. It won’t be easy for Neuvillette to get over your death, and some part of him will always ache and yearn to see you again. But one thing he can do is strengthen his resolve to make Fontaine into a nation that both you and Focalors would be proud of. A nation where tragedies like these will never happen again.

🍃 Venti

Venti liked to climb up on high places like his statue in front of the Favonius church, the rooftop of the Cat’s Tail, or the great tree at Windrise. Today, you found him high up in the tree, absentmindedly strumming a new tune on his lyre. Wanting to surprise the bard, you tried your best to climb the tree as quietly as you could, but right as you were about to pop up and surprise him, the branch you were on snapped, and with a heart-stopping shriek, you plummeted down to the ground.

Your scream alerted Venti. He felt your presence before you even started climbing the tree, but he failed to foresee the danger until it was too late. He didn’t react fast enough to summon a gust of wind to safely lower you down. The sickening crunch of your skull hitting the ground made his stomach roil, and for a brief moment he felt as if the blood in his veins turned to ice. He felt frozen in place.

Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Venti rushed to your side to check on you, but the enormous pool of blood blooming around your lifeless body made him throw up.

Not again. He lost someone he loved once more. The painful emotions of losing you triggered a cascade of memories of seeing the broken body of that one boy he called a friend thousands of years ago. The same boy whose face he now wore as a way of honoring his memory and giving him an opportunity to live out his dreams of freedom through Venti.

Venti felt that same feeling of heavy emptiness once again as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, your blood smearing the white sleeves of his shirt. One of the bard’s hands cradled your still-warm cheek, and he wept. To have you taken away so easily through such a small accident… it was too much.

Venti didn’t attend your funeral. He couldn’t bear to. However, he forced himself to watch from a distance as your loved ones gathered around your grave. He fully empathized with their grief.

In the following days, one could often find Venti at a tavern. He started with Angel’s Share, but after consecutive days of heavy drinking and drunken ramblings about how remorseful he felt and how you deserved better, Diluc put a stop to Venti’s visits. The Anemo Archon wasn’t getting any better from drinking himself into a stupor until he could barely hold himself upright. It was heartbreaking to see.

Even after being banned from the Angel’s Share, Venti would visit other taverns in the city and rinse and repeat. He so badly wanted to numb the pain in his heart and forget the awful memory of your lifeless body. Only after several bans did Venti finally stop coming to the city altogether. He disappeared for a while, and nobody was able to find him. Only after many weeks did the bard suddenly pop up in the town square with his lyre in hand.

During his absence, Venti wrote a few songs as a way to cope with his grief, and after a while, finally felt well enough to play them. As a bard, he was well-known in Mondstadt for playing cheerful and beautiful tunes, but this time his melodies were melancholic, even sad. They listened to him sing about a love he can no longer say ‘I love you’ to anymore, someone he can no longer forge new memories with and can only carry on in his heart as a memory. The music he played captured the attention of every member of the audience and touched their hearts so deeply that they, too, could feel the sorrow the bard was trying to convey through his melodies. His pain became their pain, too. The heartache was so profound, so raw and crippling, that many people couldn’t hold back from crying.

Venti wasn’t playing the songs to earn money or share his sadness with others. He was playing them for you. He hoped that his feelings would reach you wherever you were and that your memory wouldn’t fade away even if he remained the last person alive who knew of your existence. His songs will keep your memory alive in the hearts of the Mondstadt citizens, never to be forgotten.

☂️ Wanderer

You have been fighting chronic sickness for months, but despite the treatments, each week you seemed to get worse and worse. Neither the doctors of Sumeru nor even Nahida herself could figure out a cure for your condition. You were bedridden with barely any strength to move. Wanderer took responsibility for nursing you back to health by helping you get to places you needed, cooking all your meals and feeding you, as well as getting your medicine and administering it.

Despite his efforts, you could tell you wouldn’t last long. While you still had the strength to talk, you apologized to him for being forced to part from him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, with a frown pulling at his lips. “Rather than talk about such nonsense, use that energy to get better instead.”

He didn’t want to face the facts, to accept the reality that you could disappear from his life. But then came a day where you no longer opened your eyes when he called your name, nor stirred when he tried to shake you awake. Your body was cold and stiff and so unlike what he was used to seeing you as. The life you possessed was gone in all senses of the word.

Something in Wanderer snapped that day. Falling to his knees, he let out a guttural scream that tore at his vocal cords. He unleashed a wail that carried all the anguish and misery he’d been keeping bottled up inside for hundreds of years. He’s lost so many people he cared for in the past. Each time he met someone he grew attached to, fate would always tear them away from him, and you were no exception.

He cried bitter tears in the privacy of your shared home, cursing Fate for doing this to him over and over again. He was angry and heartbroken. Though he lacked a real heart, the sensation in his chest felt like something inside him broke into a million tiny fragments. As if sharp needles pierced through his non-existent heart and caused him to scream until he lost his voice.

He wanted revenge, but how can one get vengeance against Fate itself?

You were gone, so cruelly torn away from his side despite his best efforts to keep you alive. You were the little ray of light that never gave up on him no matter how cold he was towards you or how much he pushed you away, and helped him heal little by little. You accepted him in his entirety and wormed your way into his non-existent heart, so how dare Fate mock him like this? Wanderer truly felt as if Fate was purposely torturing him by taking away all those whom he held dear.

Helpless and anguished, Wanderer reverted to the days when he used to be Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers who was infamous for his callousness and mercilessness. His roiling emotions spurred him to repeat these spiteful acts against anyone who got in his way. It was the only way he knew of how to vent these overwhelming emotions that made him feel like he was choking on his grief.

It took Nahida’s interference to calm him down and get through to him that you wouldn’t want him to be like this. The Wanderer you fell in love with wasn’t such a hateful person driven by negative emotions, and though he was loathe to admit it, the God of Wisdom was right.

Having quelled the initial burst of wounded anger, Wanderer would think more clearly about what he should do from now on. He could keep all your items, photographs, and letters, but they would never replace you, only help preserve some of the memories attached to them, which a puppet like him had no need for. He won’t forget even the smallest thing about you, not as long as he’s alive.

Wanderer becomes a regular visitor of your grave, taking care of it so your name won’t be erased from the gravestone by time too quickly. He would frequently bring your favorite foods and flowers and place them in front of your grave, before taking a seat next to it and staring off into the distance without saying a word. He did this mostly at night so he could stargaze, just like how you both used to when you were alive.

Even centuries later, when everyone who knew you took their memories of you to their graves, Wanderer will remain to watch over your final resting place, unwavering in his devotion.

🐺 Wriothesley

You accompanied Wriothesley on another one of his swims out in the open waters surrounding the Fortress. Since you weren’t a vision holder, you had to wear a diving suit to breathe, unlike your beloved Duke. You’ve had these private little swim dates a few times before, so your guard was down when you swam through some jagged areas of the Fortress’s scaffolding. The shoulder of your diving suit caught on a sharp edge of metal and tore a hole in it. The tear was fairly large, and you panicked when you felt water rush inside your suit. Wriothesley was quick to freeze the hole and pull you up to the surface to get the suit off of you, but by the time he did, it was too late. You had inhaled too much water and were unresponsive. Wriothesley tried to keep his anxiety at bay and utilized all the CPR knowledge he learned from Sigewinne to try and save your life. He breathed air into your lungs and did chest compressions with enough force to hear your ribs crack, but even after 30 agonizing minutes of trying, you wouldn’t wake up.

Wriothesley had no choice but to accept the fact you died. Wriothesley doesn’t cry for you. He’s no stranger to death. His exposure to it in his younger years made him all too aware of how easy it is to die, and that death came for all without exception. As a result, he was able to accept your death a little easier than most, but it doesn’t mean he made peace with it. The staff and inmates at the Fortress all said Wriothesley looked the same as usual even after your death. He kept up his laidback yet intimidating demeanor and busied himself with the variety of work someone in his position was required to take care of. Only Sigewinne could tell that Wriothesley was not alright despite all the strained smiles he gave everyone. The bags under his eyes grew more prominent by the day, a clear indicator he wasn’t sleeping well. She saw how he threw himself into his work, barely taking any time to rest properly, as if wanting to keep his mind busy from the horrible memory of seeing your corpse. Though he tried to mask it, in truth, your death affected Wriothesley deeply. He had frequent nightmares about watching you drown and being unable to save you, and they would keep him up at night. He usually awoke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding from intense panic and dread until his mind cleared, only to be replaced with a stone-cold reality that made the feelings of guilt come rushing back. Out of habit, he turns to your side of the bed to seek comfort in your presence but seeing it cold and empty served as yet another harsh reminder that you were gone. Wriothesley can’t sleep after his nightmares, so he opts to work out or fuss over his gauntlets to distract himself from his feelings. It takes all his self-control to keep a lid on his emotions and not become the angry, irritable mess he knows he will be if he’s not careful.

When he makes tea, Wriothesley accidentally makes two cups out of habit. One for you and one for him. Even weeks after your passing, it was still a difficult habit to break. For the first while, Wriothesley would even stop drinking your favorite tea blend because it reminded him of you. Rather than enjoy the flavor, all he tastes is bile in his throat. The flavor of your favorite tea makes him nauseous because it makes him think about how you will never taste this again or have another tea date in his office.

There was one occasion when he tried to drink your tea shortly after your death. He thought maybe the flavor would remind him of the happy times he shared with you, but all it resulted in was a broken teacup from the force of his grip, and Sigewinne fussing over his cuts and burns. He didn’t drink your favorite blend for a long time after that, only being able to find enjoyment in it again many years later when the startlingly clear memory of your death didn’t hurt him as much. Wriothesley felt lonely without you. You were the friend and confidant he told his deepest and darkest secrets about his past, the comfort he sought after a difficult day, and the soothing presence that made him feel accepted for who he was without all the embellished titles. But after your passing, the Fortress of Meropide seemed cold and gloomy, as if devoid of the warmth it once had that made him call it home. It was as if your death snuffed out the little ray of warm sunshine he felt when spending time with you.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader #heizou shikanoin x reader #kaveh x reader #lyney x reader #neuvillette x reader #venti x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wriothesley x reader #For some reason Lyney's part is the longest

[not-your-lifeline]

something I’ve noticed about myself

I can vividly imagine hearing sentences in other people’s voice or replay musics I’ve heard once before in my head whenever I want as if my brain has it’s own recorder/mp3 player, I often find myself vibing to the beat while replaying favorite musics in my head.

and not just the actual lines I’ve heard in real life but any sentences, words, noises I want to hear at the spot. in that person’s exact same tone, accent, emotion. though I have to hear that person’s voice at least once to recreate it in my head. I can’t make up a new voice I haven’t heard before.

like for example It’s just like 15.AI. but imagine it’s built inside your brain and you can play it whenever you want. If I wanted to hear Benny from FNV say some weird shit I can make him say it in my head. It’s a shame I don’t have the ability to mimic that sound physically tho, I wish I could let others hear it too. it’s like edited crack memes but made by their actual voice actors.

I always thought everyone can do it but I recently asked my sister and therapist about it and they both said they can’t do it.

idk what this ability is called but I think it has something to do with my PTSD and traumatizingly good memory to the point I literally can’t forget anything without medication.

It’s like audio version of the photographic memory or something. (because I had bad eyesight since I was little so everything looked like watercolor painting, having very sensitive sense of sound and smell/taste in result instead.)

#shitposting #15.AI #PTSD #Echoic Memory? #it's also applied to my lucid dreams so I can hear my favorite video game characters say lot of new things that don't exist in real life #I wish I was able to mimic those sounds so I can prank people by talking to them in their own voice lol #like some eldrich horror mimicking human voice #but alas. I have chronic bronchitis...

[starwrighter]

Yet another chirp au let's go!

Let's say that ghost chirping doesn't exactly sound like birds. Like it doesn't come from their throat and instead comes from their cores. And while avian themed ghosts chirp like birds most have their own way of chirping.

The yetis make chuffing noises of various pitch as they use their breathing to amplify the sound.

Technes and other technological themed ghosts mad robotic noises. With Technes specifically making dial up noises.

Ember and any musical themed ghosts mimic their instruments.

The box ghost's chirps like cardboard being folded while the lunch lady sounds like a pan sizzling.

Skulker's chirps are like gunshots while Walker's are like the slam of a cell door.

Spectra's chirps sounds like people crying while youngblood's sound like giggling.

Now here's the fun part. Danny's a halfa, and as much as I love the idea of him having a space obsession I'm going with the protection obsession because I want to.

Danny's chirps are different because he's half human. He can't exactly hear them just as we can't hear our own heartbeats unless we have a tool our are having a panic attack. Other people can hear them just fine though.

Danny, decides to leave Amity Park because enough people hate him and try to kill him unprompted that it's interfering with his obsession. He decides against going to metropolis because lex Luther is just another Vlad that'd rally people to hate him too.

Danny decides to go to gotham because there's plenty of people to protect and there's no crazy billionaire only a ditsy one.

The only problem is Danny's chirps sound like dead people. Danny taking advantage of his powers so imagine it being late at night, you're a cop beating the crap out of a man stealing diapers for his son and you hear a distorted.

"Helllllo?"

And it's your dead mother's voice.

#whenever I type out a prompt I try to edit out “like” #but my brain kins shaggy without my permission #dpxdc #dcxdp

[mimic-of-hysy]

its not even her comment that has me so frustrated, its the fact that i let my facade fall so hard because of it. im angry because i let to her get me to me so badly that one fucking sentence shattered the persona i work so hard to uphold at work. the other girl that was working saw me crying, i havent let anyone see me cry in years. i am upset because this one unending joke she refuses to stop making has gotten to me so badly that i am going to completely restructure the way i speak so that i never have to say that word and only have to give one word answers when i absolutely have to

#for those of you just tuning in to the saga of my bosses wife being the fucking worst #i got horribley sick my sophmore year of high school #(to the point where i did think i was going to die #but no one would take me seriously so i had to continue going to school and doing everything i normally would #and bc of that illness for 2 1/2-3 weeks straight my throat was so dry #and cracked and bloody that even breathing made me want to screaming in pain #that resulted in permanent damage to my voice #aka i have to purposely pitch my voice up to make it sound like it did before i was sick #bc now it is lower and crackly and gross #everyone that i have talked to in this new natural voice has told me that it sounds bad and/or that i sound very very stoned #anyway i put a LOT of effort into pitching my voice back to its original sound whenever im around people ESPECIALLY at work #but this takes a fuck ton of mental energy and there are limits to it #if we have a really busy day and i get super worn out my voice will drop bc i dont have the energy to keep it up #and she will always point this out #one word sentences when on their own are also damn near impossible for me to pitch up #especially 'what?' #and every.single.time i say it around her she will drop her voice as low as she can go make it as crackly as she can #and mimic that word back to me #only to immiditaely after break out laughing #i hear you saying 'what if she just doesnt know it bothers you settie?' #she does know #we had a full conversation about how insecure i am about my natural voice #and i have asked her to stop with the 'what?' mimicing on several ocassions #she will not stop #the thing is too #pitching my voice up for work HURTS #everyday i get off my shift and my throat is s o r e #whatever none of this matters anyway im just never going to say 'what?' out loud ever again and ill learn to live with it #settie vents

[homunculus-argument]

"Maybe magic, maybe mundane" is one of my favourite tropes, especially when it's featured in something where magic could plausibly exist.

One book idea that I had that is currently only a pile of haphazard notes features a character only known as The Queen's Mute - or simply "the mute" for short - who is exactly what it says on the tin: the queen's personal jester, who does not speak. He is also ambiguously human. An eerie, elfin creature who seems to find it funny when people are puzzled by him.

Besides being completely silent, he has an uncanny skill in copying how people hold themselves and move. Gait, posture, the expressions they make, he could just be standing completely still doing nothing, and it's still obvious whether he's standing like the king or the head cook. If you've seen the subject once, you'll know who he's impersonating. He's quick to spot every opportunity to insult someone by doing so - like spotting a nobleman who isn't faithful to his wife and following after him across the room in the exact same gait that his mistress walks in. The king once remarks that he can't understand how the hell someone who can't speak can have so many rude things to say.

The protagonist was sent to spy on the queen, and the mute is almost always with her - making no sound, not even footsteps, but making himself seen, and seeing and hearing everything. One never hears him come or go, he is just suddenly there, sitting on the floor, waiting to see who's the first person to glance down and get startled out of their mind because people don't just pop out of nowhere like that. Being fond of climbing furniture as well, he might also be sitting on top of a shelf.

Though the protagonist first assumes that he is somewhere close to her own age - somewhere in his late teens - and the narration refers to him as "boy" more often than "man", the queen corrects her. He is just as grown now as he was when she first brought him with her, and though she doesn't know his exact age, she knows he is older than she is herself.

The king - despite of being the mute's favourite subject of vicious mockery - tolerates him for some reason. Despite of being aware that the relationship between the queen and the jester is romantic as well as sexual in nature. Their marriage is as loveless as political arranged marriages get, so he finds it preferable to let the queen keep her mute if his taunting antics and his unsettling way of just appearing into places at least keep other men away.

The queen occasionally mentions things that she wasn't supposed to know - and couldn't have known - just to let the protagonist know that she knows more about what's going on than what she lets on. When the protagonist fails to hide her shock and asks the queen how she knew, the queen explains that the mute told it to her. The protagonist assumes this to be a joke, her way of saying "none of your business", since obviously the mute doesn't talk.

But he does talk. Only to the queen, only when absolutely no other soul is there to hear it. And as a plot twist on the last third of the book, it turns out that besides knowing how to move like other people, the mute is a frighteningly good vocal mimic. He can copy the queen's voice perfectly, which they have often used for her advantage. Looking back to every scene where the queen was heard but not seen - behind a curtain or a dressing screen, talking through a door, or just overheard singing to herself in the garden - there is no telling whether the protagonist was actually talking with the queen, or if she had that whole conversation with the mute. This would explain at least one incident where the queen was supposed to be in one place but somehow shows up somewhere else.

The protagonist never figures out what the mute's whole deal is. She never finds a satisfying answer despite of the queen clearly telling her that he is just as much a human of flesh and blood as either of them. The queen often sounds like she's lying when she's telling the truth, as she is now. The mute is completely, entirely human, just somewhat autistic and trans.

[nickfromguesswhohateclub]

coming from an autistic person, here are some things that MAY mean you’re autistic.

-you had abnormal & intense interests when you were a young child (even 7 and under). for example: pirates of the caribbean, wilderness survival, fighter jets, etc.

-you were called “quirky” as a kid. in the tone that’s a polite way of saying “weird.”

-as a kid, you got along much better with adults or older kids instead of your peers. perhaps you were called an “old soul.”

-a lot of your peers didn’t/don’t like you, and you didn’t/don’t know why.

-you walked on your toes as a kid, maybe you still do.

-your body movements can be described as “stiff” and it’s noticeably different from your peers. especially as a kid.

-you tend to have a monotone voice unless you forcibly emote.

-you had a very rich inner world as a child. for example, preferring to talk to your imaginary friends, even as you passed the “typical” age for that.

-you talked/talk to trees or other inanimate objects.

-you have bad proprioception, which means you have a hard time knowing where your body is in space. this can manifest as clumsiness, bad hand-eye coordination, bumping into walls or tables, misjudging distances, etc.

-you crave stimulation such as spinning around, rocking back and forth, hanging upside down, etc.

-you have bad auditory processing skills. for example, when someone speaks to you, you HEAR them perfectly well, but it may take you longer to PROCESS/UNDERSTAND what they say.

-you often speak too loudly or too softly without realizing it.

-you are bothered by things that other people tune out or don’t notice. for example: the sound of electricity or your own heartbeat, tags on clothing, sock seams, slightly flashing lights, traffic, the texture of your skin, etc.

-pretend play was difficult or impossible for you as a child.

-you practice/practiced smiling, small talk, facial expressions, etc in the mirror.

-you mimic what the people around you do in conversation, or in any social situation, to help you fit in.

-you often express yourself by quoting lines from your favorite media. more than just for fun - to a level where people don’t just laugh along and “get it,” but think you’re weird or don’t understand what you mean.

-you have a difficult time regulating your body temperature, and might swing between being too hot and too cold even though the actual temperature hasn’t changed.

-you have an unusually high pain tolerance. alternatively, you may have an unusually low pain tolerance.

-you can’t stand or sit still. you are always swaying and/or shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

-you have bad interoception, which means you often don’t realize that you are hungry or thirsty or need to use the bathroom until the sensation is painful.

#autism #actuallyautistic #autistic #actually autistic

[sxxythingz]

Mine

Neteyam Sully (22) x Omatikaya female (22)

Warnings: smut, cursing, p n v, dom Neteyam, aged up characters, creampie (😏), Neteyam low key being jealous

WC: 2.2K

🛑MDNI🛑

“So what do forest people even do for fun?” Ao’nung asks you, his attention completely turned towards you as you smile brightly at him. “Well, we typically ride our ikrans, go hunting, run through the forest. But me personally, I enjoy just laying in the middle of the forest and enjoying the peaceful sounds around me.” Your tail sways from side to side at the thought of your home and how much you miss it.

You and the Sully family have been in the Metkayina Reefs for about 7 months now, you didn’t have to leave but you are the girlfriend of Neteyam Sully, the oldest son of Toruk Makto Jake Sully. You decided to leave your home to be with Neteyam because the truth is, home to you is wherever he is and he felt the exact same way about you.

“So do you like, swing through trees or something?” He chuckles lightly after his question, making you giggle as well before clearing your throat. “Well I mean yeah actually. I do enjoy swinging from trees, you guys would love it, it’s so much fun.” You respond back to Ao’nung, a smirk crossing his lips as he looks you up and down. “I know what you can swing from.” He reaches his hand out to you, caressing your arm and making you feel uncomfortable as your smile drops.

“Hey!” Before you can get another word out, both your heads turn towards the deep voice that’s approaching you and your heart drops. Neteyam quickly walks towards both of you, his eyes glaring into Ao’nung’s as he approaches him, pushing him back with one hand away from you and getting in front of you.

“Back. Off. She’s mine, fish boy.” You can only see the back of Neteyam’s head, but you could feel the anger beaming from his body. Ao’nung’s arrogant smirk grows wider as he puts both hands up, slowly back away and chuckling. “Smart choice. And stay away from her, I don’t ever want to see you talking to her again.” Neteyam gives him one last glare before turning around to face you, firmly grabbing your arm and walking off with you.

“Neteyam I-“ “I don’t want to hear it, Y/n.” Neteyam cuts you off mid sentence as he continues to walk with your arm in his grip, almost like a child until you reach the mauri that both of you share. Once you enter the mauri, he lets go of your arm and huffs loudly. “How many times do I have to tell you not to speak to him, Y/n? What part of that do you not get, hm?” He doesn’t even bother looking at you while he speaks, but instead his eyes stay averted towards the ceiling of the mauri, as if he doesn’t even want to see you.

“But Neteyam, you haven’t given me the chance to explain anything.” You attempt to protest, finally turning Neteyam’s attention towards you as he scoffs. “What fucking excuse do you have for talking to him? Even after I told you that I don’t feel comfortable with you saying anything to him.” He folds his arms over his chest waiting for your response. You can see the anger in his eyes, making you nervous. You had never seen Neteyam so angry before.

“He was just asking me questions about home and I was answering. I don’t see the problem, unless you’re just jealous of me talking to him.” You mimic his action, folding your arms at him. Before you can even blink, he quickly steps towards you, wrapping his large hand around your throat and pulling you chest to chest with him. No, you’ve never seen Neteyam this angry at you, but yet you secretly loved this side of him. The angrier he got, the more it turned you on.

“Y/n. Don’t fucking play with me right now. I’m not jealous of shit, you’re mine and not his. And you need to act more like it.” Your eyes bat at him, the tiniest crack in the corners of your mouth at his jealousy that he’s trying so hard to hide, but failing miserably. “And if I don’t act like yours, then what Ma Teyam?” You knew that testing him would just make him angrier, but you couldn��t help but to push those buttons.

“I’ll make you scream my name so loud that everyone knows who you belong to.” He smirks down at you, turning you on even more. “So do it my love.” Those were the only words that he needed to hear before you feel his lips crash into yours. His kisses are usually so soft and filled with love and passion, but this time his kiss is filled with need, want, desire.

He kisses you at a pace that you can’t keep up with, his hand still tightly wrapped around your throat but not tight enough to choke you. His tongue always prods at your lips, almost as if he’s asking for permission, but this time he pushes his tongue past your lips, forcing your mouth open. His hand unravels itself around your throat and he immediately brings his hand down to your loincloth, pushing past the cloth to feel the slick that’s covering it.

“You like it when I get mad at you, don’t you?” He chuckles as he pulls your loincloth to the side, his fingers collecting your slick and bringing them back to your clit to rub circles around the nub. “Neteyam..” You softly moan his name, closing your eyes as you move your hips to the rhythm of his fingers. Neteyam was your first, he knows your body like the back of his hand and you guys would always do this when you were back at home, but since you’ve been here you can count on one hand the number of times you two have had sex. And that would be about four times.

Maybe it’s because of the time frame, but his touches set your skin on fire. It feels new, almost like it’s your first time all over again, even with such a small thing it’s almost too blissful. Neteyam pulls his fingers away from you, bringing them back up to his lips to lick your taste off of his fingers. “Mm, I forgot how good you taste yawne. Here, taste.” He brings his fingers to your lips, your mouth automatically opening and he slips his fingers into your mouth for you to suck on them while you stare into his eyes, earning moans from both of you.

“Go stand against the wall.” He sternly commands from you, your eyes squint at him in confusion as he’s never told you to do this but you quickly oblige and go stand against the wall, facing him. “No yawne, turn around and face the wall.” His finger spins in a circle as he watches you turn around and face the wall. “Good girl, now put your hands on the wall.” You oblige yet again, placing your hands on the wall. You feel him come behind you, ripping your loincloth off of you, earning a gasp from you as you feel the cool breeze hit your most sensitive spots.

“Spread your legs for me princess.” He caresses your back, massaging the middle as you spread your legs. There were no words to describe how you felt, how turned on you were. This was something new, his demanding nature never came out towards you, but today that’s all that it is. The command coating his throat just makes you want him even more.

“Since you want me to fuck you like I’m jealous, I will.” You gulp hard as you hear him quickly coming out of his own loincloth and tossing it to the side. He lines himself up with your entrance, collecting your slick on the tip of his dick with one hand firmly holding your hip.

“And you better not fucking run.”

All that’s heard is the sound of your scream as he rams himself into you, his hips completely flat against your ass as he bottoms out into you. “Fuck! Neteyam!” You yell out, reaching your hand back in an attempt to push him back, but he quickly takes both of your hands into his own and places them against the wall. “Don’t fucking touch me. Take it, princess. You asked for it, so take it.” He doesn’t give you any time to adjust before he pulls himself out of you and rams his hips back into you.

“This is what you wanted, hm? You want me to be rough with you? Is that why you talked to him even when I told you not to?” His hips continue to slap against yours, his thrusts getting harder with every question that he asks you. “N-Neteyam, please.. I-I’m sorry!” You try to apologize but you hear him chuckle behind you at your weak attempt to get him to slow down. “No, fuck that. I’m giving you what you wanted. Every time that you talk to him, I want you to think about me fucking you.”

He lets go of one of your hands, bringing his hand down to rub circles around your clit as you feel your stomach beginning to feel like it’s in knots. “Nete… I-I think about to cum!” You feel your eyes rolling to the back of you head until you feel a hard slap against your ass with Neteyam’s hand. “You better not fucking cum until I tell you to.” You huff in response, he’s never denied you of an orgasm before and you don’t know if you can hold it in.

He runs his hand up your back until he reaches your soft braids, entangling his hand through them and pulling roughly to pull your head back. “What’s my name?” His voice trembles, letting you know that he’s not too far himself. “N-Neteyam..” You softly coo out, but that’s not good enough. He slams his hips into you, making you yell out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“What is my name?” He asks you yet again, your eyes not even being able to focus anymore as he continues to hit the perfect spot. “Neteyam!” You manage to scream out through your groans, making him chuckle. “Louder, princess. I can’t hear you.” He slams his hips into you once again, your nails digging into the walls of your mauri.

“Neteyam! Fuck, I-I can’t hold it anymore!” A deep growl of satisfaction grumbles through Neteyam’s throat. “Do you promise to never talk to him again?” His words slur as his thrusts lose their rhythm, bringing sloppy. “I-I promise Ma Teyam, I’ll never talk to him again. Just p-please let me cum.” You pant out as you feel Neteyam’s grip on your hips get tighter.

“Cum on my dick, princess.” That was all it took before your body finally let go, releasing the tension pinned in the pit of your stomach on him. Your moans and groans of satisfaction can be heard from halfway across the beach, but you don’t care and that was exactly what Neteyam wanted from you. Deep down, he was jealous of you even looking Ao’nung’s way but his pride wouldn’t let him tell you that.

“Shit, I’m cumming!” You feel Neteyam’s warm liquid fill you up as you grind your hips on him, a mixture of both of your groans filling the room as he slows down his pace. After a few minutes of you both catching your breath, Neteyam pulls out of you but your knees are so weak that you almost fall to the ground before he catches you.

He carries you bridal style to the mat that you guys share, carefully laying you down and going to grab a cloth to clean you off. One thing about Neteyam that you absolutely loved was the after care that he always gives you after you guys are done, how gentle and loving he is with you. He leans down and kisses your forehead, your nose and then your lips, making you smile.

“I love you, Y/n.” He places his forehead on yours and closes his eyes. “I love you, Ma Teyam.” Your heart flutters just at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. You could never choose anyone over him and deep down, he knows that. He finishes cleaning you up and helping you get dressed, then gets dressed himself. You both get ready to step out of your mauri hand in hand, sure that nobody could hear you or even knew that you guys had disappeared.

“So will you just admit that you were jealous?” You look up at Neteyam, watching him roll his eyes at you. “I was not jealous. I was just reminding you that you’re mine.” He gives a smack to your ass, making you laugh as you step out of your mauri. Your laugh quickly comes to a stop as you look and see Ao’nung and his friends staring at you and Neteyam. His friends clearly trying not to laugh and Ao’nung staring in disbelief of what just happened.

You feel Neteyam wrap his arm around your waist, pulling your body into his with a smirk on his face. “And I will admit… I might’ve been reminding them too.” You hit him in his chest, embarrassment clouding your face before finally laughing it off. You lay your head on Neteyam’s shoulder, walking past the boys as Ao’nung gives you a dirty looks.

If that was Neteyam’s reaction to you simply talking to Ao’nung, maybe you should do it more often… 😏

A/N: Hehehehe that ending is kind of toxic, I know 😂 but y’all… it took me forever and a day to get another fic out and I have a reason! That reason being I literally hate my job and it put me in a state of depression to the point where I couldn’t do anything buttttt I quit so there’s that 😂🥳 anyways, I hope you guys like this one and I now have more time post more for you guys! Enjoy 💕

#atwow #atwow fanfiction #avatar #avatar smut #atwow smut #neteyam #neteyam headcanons #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam smut

[thevirtualvalentine]

002. ONE PIECE, TRAFALGAR LAW.

content warnings: nsfw, med student!law, riding, perv!law, dick sucking, roles switch part way through, college au, maybe more.

plot: oh no! you’ve come down with the common cold and luffy suggest you visit his friend.. traffy? at the on-campus med clinic. seems simple enough till you’re fucking his brains out.

word count: 3.3k

It was just a simple cold, a quick trip in and out of the health clinic is all it would take. Get your decongestant, maybe a cough drop or two and lickity split you’d be better in no time. It’s not that you’re scared of the doctors office, just a bit wary of them whilst the process is long, arduous, and usually results in a headache. That’s why you thought the smaller on campus clinic would be quicker than scheduling an appointment, your friend Luffy said he knew the guy that worked there and added that he was, ‘grumpy but pretty practical.’ Went on a long tangent saying they’d known each other forever, yada yada, “go see him, he’d like you.”

It wasn’t a far walk from your dorm, plus it was a nice day out, the weather didn’t seem to make you feel any worse. When you walked into the small health center, you were shocked to see that no one else was there. The lights were dim in the main office and you would have sworn it was closed if a deep voice didn’t call out to you from another room, “Back here, what can I do for ya?”

You pull your jacket over yourself from the below sub temperatures when you make your way down the hallway. “Um… Traffy? Luffy said you’re studying pre-med. I just feel pretty congested is all..” You eye over the note Luffy had given you to double check the pronunciation, he knows you get pretty nervous at new places with people you don’t know. Annoyance shrouds his voice when he speaks again.

“Traffy? Of course that idiot told you to say that,” you can hear him sigh as you come up to the door. You shove the crumpled up piece of paper into your pocket simultaneously as you enter his office, shuffling awkwardly because he doesn’t look up from the paper work in his hand.

“Sorry bout that, what should I call you?” You can't see his face but he has short black hair that’s a bit messy, his hands show that he has vitiligo and tattoos? A bit built for a doctor, but the white lab coat makes him pop out amongst the pristine and dim space.

“La-” he finally looks up from his stack of miscellaneous books and papers but stutters over his words, “Traffy is fine.” He’s quick to clear his throat while giving a light awkward smile, all annoyance in his tone suddenly gone in thin air. You give a small wave as you pass your weight back and forth on the balls of your feet. The handsome man shakes his head in the act of doing a double take before he asks for your name. “Where are my manners, you are?”

“No no, it’s ok! y/n is fine,” your nerves cause you to mimic his verbiage as you stand planted in the middle of the room. He has these deep yellow eyes that stare you down while he asks you about your symptoms, asking when they first appeared and how long you’ve been feeling unwell.

He tsks which makes you gulp, worried that you’ve come down with a life threatening disease that seemingly has no cure. The snap of latex gloves against his tattooed hands snaps you out of your panic, “Well now, that just won’t do. No worries, doctor Law is here to help.” His low voice eases your nerves. As he stands up you realize how tall he is, and as his face comes into light you’re taken aback at just how handsome he really is. You’re almost annoyed at Luffy for hiding his hot friend from you, scruff that seems to suit him so well across his speckled features. Gold earrings with splotches of white hair scattered across his hairline. You’re praying your fever can explain why you feel so hot all of a sudden in such a cold room.

“Say ‘ahh’ for me.” His large hand rests underneath your chin, subtly tilting your head up to face him. Now you’re certain it’s not the fever that’s making you feel hot, it’s definitely him.

“Ahhh,” you stick your tongue out timidly, trying to avoid his almost predatory gaze while averting your eyes. All of a sudden his free hand enters your field of vision as two thick gloved fingers slide against your tongue, pushing the pads along the slimy surface. “Good,” he remarks monotonously, bright eyes never leaving your face.

Your mouth instinctively closes around his digits and you swear a light smile tugs at his lips before he retracts his fingers slowly. “Shit, sorry about that,” you say nervously, god you could jump off a bridge right now. How embarrassing, or so you think.

“Mhm, no gag reflex?” With his back turned to you he discards the gloves in a waste bin, ushering you to sit down on the examination table with a point of his finger.

You’re confused by his question, does he mean this in a medical sense or a practical one? The man is a doctor you suppose, it’s always best to be honest with your doctor, right? “Only when I’m brushing my teeth, why?” Those butterflies are back, causing you to swing your feet absentmindedly as you tell him the truth.

He returns to you with a stethoscope in hand as he places the ends in his ears. “Nothing, can you remove your jacket for me?” His demeanor makes your heart thump wildly in your chest, words that come out so smooth like he’s a practiced professional. You’re sure there’s something wrong with you because you’re getting turned on from a simple check up in the schools minute clinic.

You try to calm your heart as you take off your jacket, leaving you in a simple flimsy tank top. Hopefully he won’t be able to hear it’s [your heart’s] erratic beat. You curse yourself for not wearing a bra, you didn’t expect your ‘check up’ to go this way when you dressed yourself for the day, it was supposed to be a quick trip.

The cold air chills your nipples, making them visible through the thin fabric as they pebble up. Another pang of embarrassment stabs at your pride when he leans down to press the diaphragm over your chest.“Am I making you nervous?” It’s in the way he doesn’t even look at you as he presses the cold material over your blazing skin. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

“No…” you do your best to lie, hopefully that can save you or else you’ll have to hide in your dorm for the rest of your days while Luffy harasses you over embarrassing yourself in front of his friend.

“Your body doesn’t lie sweetness,” you can feel his stare drilling holes into your forehead now. “Ah, there it goes again.” You think you’re going to melt on top of his exam table if he doesn’t stop revealing things you don’t want to tell him. Your grip on the doctor roll makes it crackle beneath your hands as you try to calm down before you speak.

“What kind of examination is this anyway, I told you I’m just congested.” Defensiveness consumes you as you lean away from his touch, brain too rattled by his other worldly looks and words. You cross your arms and snub your head to the side, unbeknownst to you but most definitely to his own enjoyment it pushes your breasts together. You sigh, feeling bad for raising your voice at him. Maybe a bit of honesty will lessen the tension between you both.

“Look, I’m sorry for yelling, it’s just you’re really attractive and it’s making me nervous.” You drop your guard as you look up at him earnestly, apologizing isn’t always your strong suit.

He could be wrong, but he feels you want him in the way he wants you too. Luffy was right, his friend was hot. He’d heard about you in fleeting conversations, but was always curious to know what you looked like. There was just no way any normal person would want to be around that guy for more than a few minutes at a time. He could kill that guy for hiding such a beauty from him.

“I can help with that.” He turns his back to you once again, setting down his stethoscope. You’re gagged from the fact he blatantly ignored your confession. Your eyes that had drifted to the side now meet his as you stare at him wide eyed in disbelief. He leans over you, slotting his knee between your legs while his hands rest on either side of your head. You blink at him a few times dumbfounded because a few seconds ago you were sitting up but now lay flat on your back as he cages you in. Desire swirls deep in your stomach as you clench your fists.

He doesn’t make any sort of move on you till he has your consent. Sure he’s definitely already used some of his medical practice to his advantage, but he’s not here to hurt you. He won’t do anything to you unless he's sure you feel the same way.

You’re so turned on by it all that your legs squeeze together, interrupted by the knee slotted between them. “Please?” It comes out as more of a whine than anything while you place your hands on his shoulders, dragging him down to kiss you. It's sloppy and rushed at best, filled with mutual hunger as your tongues collide. His knee slides further and further upwards till it makes contact with your cunt that’s slowly becoming needier for more of his touch.

The swap of saliva is anything but sanitary and you almost feel bad for the fact you’ll get him sick after this. When he pulls away a string of spit connects you both, glimmering under the dimmed fluorescent lights, “here, lemme get that.” Traffy, or rather Law, swipes the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip trying to clean up the mess he’s made, a shame, you like it dirty. You catch the digit with your tongue before sucking it into your mouth, working your warm muscle all over whatever’s available to you. His eyes darken a shade as they gloss over when you release his finger with a loud pop sound.

“Is this still part of the ‘check up’” you tease, a coy smile tugs at your lips as you try to rock your hips against his knee. “Cause if so, I think I’m a little sick Doc.” He likes this flirtier side of you, what happened to the girl who walked into his office 30 minutes ago that couldn’t look him in the eye? Who knew such a shitty job with inadequate pay could be so fun.

Law lets his speckled hands run along your sides, groping whatever free skin he can. “Yeah? Think the only cure’s suckin me off. It’s terminal. Better work fast, doctor's orders.” His words send shivers of excitement coasting through you like waves. You’re entranced by that smirk of his, what other kinds of faces can a stoic man like him make?

You sit up to undo his belt hastily while he pulls your tank top off from over your head. It’s a flurry of items being removed till you’re sinking to your knees in front of him. Every part of him is beautiful, dark hair that stands out against lighter skin on his abdomen, additional tattoos that trail down his body that aren’t just on his hands. You could eat him alive and not spare a single bite, he’s tantalizing.

Those same bright eyes watch you now as you admire him, drinking you in. After you’ve finished checking him out you place your hands on his thighs, kissing the tip of his cock which makes him tense beneath your hands. “What, are you nervous, doctor?” He hisses in response, twitching tentatively right before your eyes. You lick from the underside of his base to the tip, running your tongue along his veins.

Law’s more of a pervert in theory rather than in practice, watching you eagerly suck him off like candy brings down all his resolve. His cock slipping in and out of your lips makes his toes curl. He’s trying to suppress whimpers by biting down on the back of his hand. Heat rises to his face as he melts like putty with each jerk of your wrist. “You’re so cute like this Traffy, feel so big in my hands.” He groans at your praise, eyebrows knitting together while sweat builds at his hairline. Those med school types are always such sluts for praise, you should have known.

You slide your tongue along his sensitive slit while your hand twists around his base. “Such a pretty boy, you’d let anyone who walks in suck your dick like this huh?” The role reversal makes him delirious, he’s whining for you like his life depends on it.

“N-no. Just you, swear.” His voice is trembling as he struggles to look you in the eye. He doesn’t want to cum yet but if you keep talking to him like he’s some kind of slut he just might. He can’t remember the last time someone’s sucked him off like this, treating his dick like a prized commodity, it’s too much for him.

You take all of him in your throat while breathing through your nose, grasping at his bare thighs with your well manicured nails. He’s so thick it surprisingly makes you gag around him, tears well up in your vision but you push through, bobbing your head along his length. Spit dribbles down your chin and he’s convinced you’re trying to suck him dry. “Fuck please, do-don’t stop,” he’s never felt this out of control in his life and for once it feels nice to let go. He cums down your throat with no verbal warnings but his body said everything, orgasm ripping through him with a guttural moan.

But you don’t stop, continuing to suck him through his climax till he’s doubled over whining. “You even taste good,” you say while licking the corners of your mouth and then your fingers, letting your tongue slide between the webs of your hands. It makes his jaw drop and he can’t even say anything, his dick gets hard all over again from feeling so desired. Seems he’s found a new favorite patient.

Law can’t just leave you like this, not after you swallowed his load like you’d done it a million times before. He drags your kneeling form up to sit in his lap, letting you settle on him. He finds the placement of your hands on his chest endearing, your fingertips trail his inked skin and it feels intimate for someone who just caused him to break plenty of OSHA laws upon their first meeting. “I want you to use me, show me how to make you feel good,” the tip of his nose grazes your cheek as he speaks low in your ear.

Oh god, he doesn’t even know. It’s like he’s just opened Pandora’s box without a care in the world, and worst of all he personally asked for it. You can only smile sweetly, “this time let me hear you.” He nods like a dog just given orders, resting back against his palms as he waits for instructions. Your hands continue to feel him up, raking your nails across his pecks or squeezing at his biceps while you praise his figure. Law continuously gets harder beneath you, not even he was aware of this newfound kink for praise. Precum leaks from his tip in globs, please for the love of god just fuck him already.

You take him with no prep, usually you’d make sure to stretch yourself but with how wet he’s made you it’s honestly unnecessary. “Aah— fuck wait wait. You’re so tight.” He tries bracing himself when you sheath him, hands come flying to your hips as he grips you in place. “Can’t.. you feel s’good,” he’s breathing heavily trying to ground himself. Maybe he’s bitten off more than he can chew.

“But you’re taking me so well baby, your cock’s perfect.” And again he moans, it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard, he tries biting his bottom lip to silence himself but you roll your hips forwards. “I said, let me hear you.” You wrap your arms around his neck as you push yourself up by your thighs to drop back down again. Continuing the motion while he struggles to keep up beneath you. Law attempts to keep his eyes open but with his previous orgasm it’s borderline impossible, the rhythmic slam of your hips on his dick sends his mind somewhere hazy.

He’s too cute, falling apart like this. Zero composure left to his name as you bounce up and down. The veins on his cock rub so deliciously within your heat, every time they throb you’re sent into ecstasy. The table creaks and gives as you ride him, if anyone walked in right now they could hear it or him whimpering helplessly.

You lean forward trying to position yourself so your clit grazes his pelvis with each grind of your hips. “Touch me Traffy, anywhere please just touch me.” Your close, so close that you can feel the pressure building in your cunt. His mouth latches onto your nipple, kneading the soft flesh with practiced hands. The added sensation sends your head rolling back, tapered pants of how good he is at this and how you don’t want him to stop escape you.

The view is impeccable, delicate tits in his face while your slick pussy engulfs him. He watches the way your mouth moves when you say his name and saves the memory for later use when he’s all alone. It almost feels like a movie to him, but he knows a film couldn’t be as good as this. Even that stupid nickname he’s gotten over the years sounds so sultry coming from you right now.

Your hand comes down from his shoulder to push him off you and he’s startled, figuring he must have done something wrong, but then you’re touching yourself as you fuck him and he’s trying to keep the floodgates from pouring over. You twist and tug at your own breast before trailing it down your body, trying to relieve that desperate ache that’s built up throughout your trip to his clinic. His eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated as he watches your fingers drag through your folds and then your puffy clit. “Said you wanted to watch me, so watch pervert.”

Oh fuckkkk. His hips jerk, biting his own lip hard enough to draw blood as he coats your insides white. He can’t do anything but whimper and shake noisily, gravelly voice failing him because of how hard this second orgasm rips through him. “Yes yes yes! Fuck, you’re so hot.” You must be trying to kill him, he can’t take anymore of your praise or he’s going to have to come back for more.

“Such a slutty face, gonna make me cum all over this dick.” Your fingers work faster and faster over your nub bringing you closer to that euphoria. It’s licking your insides like wildfire and it truly feels like it might be the cure to any disease. Finally it crashes over you, the back of your thighs slap against his for the final time as you cream all around him. Hands shooting for his hair as you grind out the remainder of your high.

It felt so dirty to be used as a cock to fuck but dear god did it look so good. Your heavy breath hitting him in warm fans as your body calms down. “So..” you huff while laying down on top of him, “think I’m cured?”

“No, I think you’ll have to visit for regular check ups.” Those same hands that you first noticed when you walked in rub circles on the dimples of your lower back, another cheeky smirk from the med student following suit.

#law #I enjoyed writing this a bit too much #law smut #trafalgar law smut #law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #law x you #law x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader

[confused-wanderer]

Alfred is badass and has unuasual skills even for a batfam member.

Inspired by pandaredd’s skit where Alfred says “Bond wishes he was me”

The man is the caretaker of the bat family, he has raised every damn member, and has seen more than his fair share of wars, doomsdays and worse. He is a butler. And god knows what else in the spare time. All I imagine is that if a teenage Bruce looks up at Alfred and whispers he wants to train, Alfred might be the one who gives him contacts.

Alfred:

Bruce:

Alfred: .. wait here master Bruce, I know you won’t even listen to what I’m saying so I will let you learn the arts. Only under one condition though, I choose your trainers

Teenage Bruce: Alfred, whom would you-

Alfred *already on the phone* : Hello there Lee

Teenage Bruce *wide eyes* *mouthing* : Rock Lee??

Alfred *scoffing* : what world do you think we live in! Be more realistic Master Bruce.

Bruce: .. so who is it?

Alfred: Bruce Lee.

The scariest thing about the butler is that he will take you apart in less than a blow, and he doesn’t even need weapons. He will however use them just for fun.He can still hear if Bruce or any of the batfamily sneaks around, he’s been the only one who somehow knew Cass was in the room and offered her snacks while she was hanging upside down from the ceiling in the pitch black and overall has better instincts to locate any of them in the mansion than a GPS tracking system.

When supervillains, nosy reporters or even crooks try to break into the Manor, the fact that no one installed a security system should’ve really been a warning point that the Waynes had other.. deadlier security.

By the time Jason comes home he sees Alfred cleaning up the carpet, but doesn’t miss the wrinkled edge of the sleeve. It is only then when he looks to the other room and the criminals are all sitting in time out, each a truly remarkable shade of blue, black purple and green he’s never seen in real life. And none of them were even bleeding.

Alfred also has insanely fast reflexes. And to everyone surprise, he is an bloody good shot. Green arrow was once testing out a new arrow and it accidentally whizzed past the target and almost hit the cat when out of nowhere Alfred caught it and snapped it with one hand. And then proceeded to borrow a pistol and shoot the target while walking to the other side of the room, not even sparing a glance at the bullseye he had hit. All the while holding a tray of glass bottles that hadn’t moved a single inch.

He’s given advice to Jason on how to make explosives out of everything and nothing, taught Dick how to cut a tree in half with one kick, showed Stephanie how to always win Russian Roulette, guided Damian on how to break bones without ever leaving traces, taught Tim how to mimic someone’s voice and be scarily accurate, and so much more. Once on live television the world saw Alfred eat three cookies and refuse to pass them to Bruce Wayne before saying “They’ve been poisoned” and throwing them away. A few people swear they heard him mouth “bloody amateurs” afterwards and he insisted he was fine, stating that he was already “used to it.”

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And that is why the bat cave is a safer option for batman’s enemies than the mansion. Because if you were caught by the butler, just know that god has already forsaken you.

#batman #dick grayson #jason todd #red hood #nightwing #tim drake #batfam #bruce wayne #damian wayne #headcanons #Alfred pennyworth #Alfred the butler #Alfred #pandaredd #Stephanie brown #spoiler #Cassandra cain #orphan #robin #teenage Bruce Wayne #pandaredd skits #pandaredd Alfred #pandaredd batfam skits

[lovifie]

Meeting Soap 🧼

Masterlist — OG Drabble - First Morning

Boyfriend!Ghost x Chubby!Reader, but they wake up in each other’s body.

“Good morning, ma’am.” The guard at the door greets Simon, leaning down when he rolls down the window. He moves his sunglasses up to his head, resting his hand on the car roof. Simon looks at the guard with an astonished expression, making you wonder just how many of his expressions have you missed by the mask. 

You chuckle for the side seat, catching the attention of the guard who quickly turns pale when he lays his eyes on you, surprising you just for a second before you remember you are in your boyfriend's body.

“G-Good morning, Lieutenant.” He says, standing straight. Simon covers his mouth with his hand, hiding his smile. He clears his throat to disguise his laugh and turns to the guard. “You know him, right? Can we get through, then? We have a meeting with Price.”

The guard quickly nods, pushing the button to open the gate and Simon drives the car inside the base. He glances at you when you laugh, smiling as well. “I could get used to this, Si.”

He laughs softly shaking his head. “Don’t get high on power now, love” He parks onto his spot, turns off the engine and turns to you. “Alright, love. We need to talk to Price.”

“Your captain.” You remember nodding.

“Exactly, my captain. Older lad, big mustache-”

“Wait, I don't have your accent!” You realize, looking at him.

“That's fine, I don't talk to people enough for them to realize if I suddenly don't have the accent. Only my team may notice, and we are looking for them, so no issue.” He explains, making you cock your head at the mention of not talking to people. 

You nod, understanding what he means. “Alright, so… Price's your captain, and the other two; what were their names? Gaz and… Shampoo, was it?”

And it must be really amusing to him that you have remembered the names of his teammates for the way he chuckles at you. “Exactly, make sure to call them by those names, all right?”

You nod quickly. “Alright, I got it.” He nods as well and steps out of the car. You do as well and close the door after you, you turn to him when you hear him curse. “What's wrong?”

“The fuck are these?” He asks, and then you notice him fight with his pockets, making you laugh. He looks back at you, annoyed with the pockets.

“Use the back ones.” You say pointing to your butt. “Or let me keep them, you are not leaving me here anyway, right?”

He shoves the keys in his back pocket and starts to walk grabbing your hand to walk together. “His office is down that way, J. Price, got it?” He asks and you nod. “If he is in there, give me a call, alright? I'm gonna go check on the mess hall if the boys are there, call me if there is any problem.”

You feel a bit uneasy about being on your own on a military base, only knowing the names and nicknames of four men. Still, it looks like Simon must be someone people respect because of the way they move out of your way. You try to mimic the way Simon usually walks; looking straight ahead, always as if he knows where he is going and ready to kick out of the way anybody who gets in the middle. 

The captain's office is easy to find and you knock on the door, leaning in to hear if anybody says anything inside. When you don't hear anything, you turn around to look for Simon, well, yourself.

Only to find him next to a man who is leaning against the door, and just by seeing Simon's disgusted face you know he is getting hit on.

Simon's POV

There is nobody he is looking for inside of the mess hall, so he turns around to exit when he collides with somebody that almost sends him flying back. 

The feeling is so alien to him that it automatically annoys him, missing his bulldozer-like build. Strong hands grab his waist keeping him from falling and it only repuls him even more how easily the stranger can grab him.

“Careful there, bonnie.” A more than well-known voice says and he looks up to his teammate Soap. Well, Shampoo. The thought of you calling him that makes his smile for a second, which for his disgrace only fuels Soap to think this is okay. “Ye're right, lass?”

“Fucking peachy, mate.” He answers, pulling Soap's hand away from his body, hating the way he can tell he gets free just because Soap lets him peel the hands away. “Where is the old man?”

He raises an eyebrow, confused for a second before he figures out and he lays a hand on your shoulder. “Aahh, you are looking for Price, bonnie?”

“Yeah, right, Price. Have you seen him?” Simon asks, pushing Soap's hand out of his shoulder.

“Not yet, I'm pretty sure he is still coming back from a meeting downtown.” He says smiling, using the hand he pushed off his shoulder to brush his hair back as if it was his plan all along, flexing his arm’s muscles in the process making Ghost cringe. “But I can take ye to his office, keep ye company if ye want. I'm a great talker.”

“No, thank you.” Ghost simply says, before he tries to move away, getting exasperated with the way his mate is flirting with him. If only he had ever talked to them about you, if they had shown them a photo, something, he wouldn't have to be dealing with his mutt of a friend.

But Soap can't be blamed, a cute little thing like you going around the base. For fucks sake, the first thing he saw of you was your butt sticking out the door when Simon was checking who was inside. Soap is ready to risk it all for you. Plus, there are some real weirdos on base, so he is going to stay close.

He doesn't need to stay away, because the moment Simon tries to walk away from him; he crashes against somebody again. Once more, being grabbed by the waist, this time by even bigger hands. He is ready to fight but then he realises it is his body, which means is you.

“Ah, thank god it's you, I was about to-”

“Careful there, love. You almost fell for me, am I right?” You ask, pulling Ghost plush against your body. He looks at you as if you just grew a second head which makes you want to burst out laughing.

“The fuck is wrong with you, love?” He ask, eyebrow raised.

“The only thing wrong is that you don't have my surname, love. How will people know you are mine, hm?” You ask, leaning down and making a kissy face hidden by the mask.

Ghost chuckles shaking his head, amused by your lack of shame as he puts a hand over your mouth pushing you back. You laugh as well standing back straight, you check he didn't get hurt with the crush and then look at the guy behind him.

You have never seen him before, you just know he has the most confused expression the man can have. Completely immobile, borderline afraid and you need to fight the intrusive thoughts of just suddenly moving just to scare him.

There are many things going on inside of Soap’s head at the moment, he was happy he had found Ghost, happy to talk to such a pretty thing even if she seemed disinterested. He was going to get pissed somebody else got in the way, but he was then relieved that it was his LT; knowing the man was never interested in girls. Only for his stoic CO to start pulling the worst pickup lines in history; Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley, shamelessly flirting with a girl. And on top of everything, it was working!

“That's Johnny.” Ghost whispers covering his mouth so the other man doesn't hear.

“Who the fuck is Johnny?” You ask back the same way, Johnny not being one of the three names you know.

“Shampoo.” Ghost answers snickers hiding behind his words. 

“Oh, hey, Shampoo, how you doing my guy?” You ask, giving your best impression of what you think your boyfriend would do. Obviously doing a horrible job by the way the other man looks at you when you clap his hand. You definitely need to talk to Simon about how he behaves around his friend. 

“Are ye feelin’ all right, Lt?” The shorter man asks, confusion still flooding his senses.

But he is not the only one confused, because what the hell does Lt means? Is that his nickname? And that is what breaks the act, you turn to your boyfriend before asking. “Your nickname is Lt? What does it stand for? Lil tits? You don't have small tits.”

Simon is infinitely glad that you only mumble the last part of your words, too low for the scot to hear. Not that the men would be able to take anything in, with how shocked he seems to be.

“Okay, there is no point in hiding it from you anyway, Johnny.” Simon says looking at him, not liking the feeling of Soap towering over him like a wall. “Something weird has happened.”

“No, that I can tell, bonnie.” He says grabbing Simon’s arm and pulling him close to him. “I think Lt must have hit his head or something.”

“No, no, Johnny. That's my girl.” He says, fighting off Johnny's grip on his arm. “We switched bodies someway.”

Soap looks at Johnny, an unreadable look on his face. Then he burst out laughing, slapping his knee like a cartoon. “Alright, wow, ye guys really planed that good. I almost believe it, that's a weird way to introduce yer girl to us, Lt.” 

You rub your forehead thinking about how to prove it. “Okay, Shampoo. Honesty. What about what I have done or said today tells you that I'm him?”

“I have to admit it was quite credible. But c’mon, this is real life, those things don't happen.” Soap argues, not even caring about the nickname.

Ghost finds the situation amusing, his girl arguing with his best mate, seeing her grow exasperated with him. In any other situation, he would laugh, because he finds it amusing. Until he doesn't.

He doesn't find it funny because someone grabs him from behind. He turns around to see a rookie, he has only seen him a couple of times, and doesn't even know his name yet. 

But the man is still way taller than him in this form and he easily overpowers him. It's different from Soap's approach, he quickly realizes. Because the scot was touchy and maybe stood too close for his liking but Ghost could easily push him back when he got too close.

This man? Ghost is using almost all his strength and he is unmoving. He is not used to this body, all the tricks he knows only work when he is double the size. He doesn't know how to take advantage of being the smaller one, not with this much difference. 

“Come with me, c’mon, pretty thing.” The stupid rookie says. “I'll give you a good time.”

It brings Ghost bad memories of his childhood and his more recent past. Feeling at others' mercy, a feeling so familiar and alien at the same time; it only gets worse because he can feel himself get paralysed with fear. 

“What did you say, dickhead?” A deep voice says over him, and when he looks back he sees himself. Ghost only has seen you mad once since he met you, you reached your limit and snapped when an idiot hit your car. Ghost was glued to the passenger seat on that occasion, not daring to get in the way of your anger but still looking at the mirror to see if he was needed. He wasn't.

He also knows that he is a scary fucker, everyone knows. But something inside him clicks when he realises that the idiot who grabbed him is about to regret it. 

A gentle hand find her way to his lower back, keeping him in place and the other grabs the soldier's wrist. So hard his fingers twitch around Simon's arm letting go. 

The hand on his back gently tug at him, moving him behind you; kind of in between Soap and you. You still don't let go of the man's hand, making sure that Simon is fine first. He looks still a bit shaken but something tells you is more an inside conflict than anything.

And once you are sure, you turn to the man. He isn't as cocky as he was just a moment ago, he is bending to the side you are grabbing him; pain pulling him. 

“Now, what were you saying about a good time, bitch?” You spit at him, you pull your other hand back just to gain momentum and you hit in right in the middle of his face. No kind of technique whatsoever, but Simon's body shear strength enough to send the man's head back and forth like a whip before he falls back like a corpse on the floor.

Your hand hurts, but you know he is worse. And it is at that moment that you take notice of the crow you are calling, the lieutenant fighting somebody right on the mess hall door. A big show. 

You hear Simon call you, but you still need to give a message to the asshole. You kick his feet, trying to wake him up; but he doesn't, so you crouch down slapping his face. You see him move his eyes behind his eyelids and you take it as proof of life. 

“Remember that the next time you dare to touch a girl, okay, buddy?” You say, the men still not really answering and when Simon calls your name again you look at him standing up. Two new men behind him, not that you care.

You walk up to him, cupping his face, until one of the men says: “Simon, my office. Now.”

TagList: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @dukeofjjune @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie

Hi my lovelies 🩷🩷🩷

I am finally updating it, I have planned next to meet Price and Gaz and then after that I have little plot thought about it, so if there is any scenarios you are curious about let me know!!

The way I was laughing to myself with the Shampoo thing, like, so stupid.

Anyway, let me know if you liked it with a comment and I'll see you soon!!

@tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadow24 @loveandplanet @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr

#call of duty #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #chubby #call of duty headcanons #call of duty imagine #ghost headcanons #simon imagine #ghost imagine #simon ghost imagine #task force 141 #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #ghost riley #ghost x female reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #john soap mactavish #soap #soapghost

[elsweetheart]

Startling Hazel by sitting on her lap at like a party… she’s kinda faded but then you come out and she’s like fuck my life????

yissss yipyipyipyipyip this ends kinda abruptly sorryyy ❀

whenever hazel gets drunk or high, she kinda gets this blissed out smirk on her face that just won’t budge. i mean, there’s a reason people call her ‘haze’, cos she’s all dazed and relaxed and adorable. she’s pretty sure she has sunk into the couch at this party, the music a low thrumming as she chuckles at a joke she didn’t even hear fully.

someone treads on a beer can making it crunch beneath their foot, followed by a light airy giggle which takes a few seconds to register as you in hazels mind. she looks up, suddenly and wide eyed like a deer caught in headlights — startled all the same as one too when you’re suddenly directly infront of her, smiling like you’d just won the lottery.

“haze!” your voice carries like a windchime over the filthy low bass and a dumb, open mouthed smile spreads on her face. she wanted to slap herself.

“hey, you!” she subconsciously mimics your tone, pressing her lips together and swallowing hard when you steady your tipsy self by placing your hands on her shoulders where she sits. by instinct, she rests her hands on your hips. fuck my life, she thinks. fuck me, she thinks again.

“theres literally nowhere to sit.” you roll your eyes light heartedly, and anyone else would have taken the hint but hazel just stares up at you, starstruck before her lips turn down and she shrugs casually.

“damn, that sucks.”

you blink for a second, not sure what to respond and simply giggle— which makes her laugh, even if she’s not sure what the two of you are laughing at. another voice that doesn’t belong to either of you cuts through.

“this is cute and all but jesus just sit would you?” pj tugs hazels shoulder so she leans back a little before physically grabbing you and placing you on hazels lap like you were little lego pieces for her to construct.

“jesus, man.” hazel is blushing, arms hovering for a second before wrapping around your waist. you suck in a breath and turn into her, clinging to her a little in satisfaction.

“just until a seat opens up, i guess.” you smile sheepishly, faces so close to one another and hazel shamelessly looks at your mouth when she responds.

“i— yeah… unless, well — i don’t actually mind you sitting here. i quite like it.” she blabs, immediately regretting it. god, why was she so fucking awkward?

“okay good, wanted to sit here all night.” your voice is quieter due to the proximity and if you weren’t sitting directly on her she’d probably start crossing her legs all tight.

your words sink in and she guffaws awkwardly, nearly choking on her spit. “you… really? here? like, on my lap?” she asks, bouncing you on her knee in gesture slightly. she didn’t mean anything by it, but you grip her a little tighter and go all doe eyed so she assumes she did something right.

“yeah! you look… you’re cute.” your smile just gets bigger and this time she can feel herself getting red hot. she assumes that’s why you’re giggling, which only makes things worse. she drops back, leaning against the couch cushions now and covers her face with both hands, rubbing the skin there as if trying to manually remove the tint.

“man, what the hell. fuck my life.” she groans and you giggle more, pulling her hands away to look at her and fixing her hair for her, your knuckles brushing her cheek as you twiddle some of the face framing strands. she stares at you like you hung the moon and stars.

“hazel…” you sigh, and it comes out a sort of whine. she swallows, eyes wide with deep intrigue, briefly scanning over your expression before meeting your eye again, sitting back up straight.

“yeah?” she breathes.

“why’re you blushing?” your cheeks push up, and she can tell you’re actually nervous too. she throws her hands up a little, gesturing to your position.

“you try having a pretty girl in your lap, hello?”

“you think i’m pretty?” you’re practically twirling your hair.

“uh-huh.” her voice is soft, soft enough to melt you closer to her.

“you ever kiss pretty girls?” she can feel your breath over her mouth. she swallows, like she’s trying to snack on your oxygen.

“w—uh…” she was never good with words, so she leans forward and kisses you instead. you ignore pj and josie nudging eachother in your peripheral, hazels hand coming to hold your jaw to keep you where she wanted you.

you didn’t expect her to be this good, jesus.

#college!hazel #hazel callahan drabble #hazel bottoms drabble #hazel callahan prompt #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x reader

[am-i-interrupting]

hazbin hotel with a reader with an American accent. not like a light one but like literally thick southern accent and they grew up in the south

Alastor

When he first heard you spoke, his head cocked to the side and his smile widened.

You wouldn’t find out why until much later when he trusted you enough to actually be. . . vulnerable.

Alastor liked listening to you talk.

It reminded him of when he was alive. The thrill of the first man who begged for his life at Alastor’s hands, his mother’s voice singing as she cooked, the chatter of people in speakeasies.

He grew up a southern boy, after all.

It comforted him.

Some days, if things have been particularly unpleasant, he might even just sit next to you and ask you questions about topics he knows you’re passionate about just to hear your voice.

One day though, in private, you hear his voice slip into something resembling a thick southern accent rather like your own but different.

He quickly rectifies it but maybe he’ll start being more loose with his stage persona around you and let his true self show.

Vaggie

Vaggie didn’t explore Heaven when she was there. She main trained and focused on work, spending time with other exorcists.

You were probably the first person with a southern accent she met.

Depending on how thick and strong your accent is as well as how many southern-specific words you use, she might need just a bit of help understanding you.

I imagine you’d have to repeat things several times when you first met her.

She will try to mimic your accent.

It’s not out of mockery, she just wants to figure out how things flow off your tongue.

Her attempts are atrocious but adorable.

Vox

Vox’s whole image is perfection. Falling for someone with a thick southern accent would be something seeing as certain stereotypes exist.

He loves your accent and will get in a fist fight with anyone who says something snarky about it.

He has a file of audio samples that are just your voice as your ramble on about things he puts on as background noise when he’s stressed.

Would probably try to encourage you to start a podcast so he can have more samples of your voice.

He absolutely adores the way that you pronounce his name.

Absolutely a slut for a good southern drawl.

Getting a little NSFW, if you say any form of “god” “lord” or “holy (fill in the blank)” paired with the accent, it makes him feel like he’s defiling a church goer even if you’ve never been very praising of god and he loves that.

Definitely calls you “bell” because you’re his southern bell.

#just did this one for the ones I had ideas for #I feel like you guys might be stalking me #first the clothes then the height and now you’re sending me asks for my accent? #/lh #vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin vaggie x reader #vaggie x reader

[chrissv4mp]

1 step forward, 3 steps back.

warnings(!!): vulgar language, verbal abuse, controllingbf!chris, manipulativebf!chris, use of "y/n", etc.

author's note: loosely inspired by the song "1 step forward, 3 steps back" by (my fav) olivia rodrigo🫶🏼 hope u guys enjoy & please note that chris would never actually act like this & that it's just an AU!!

♡ = you

☆ = chris

nobody is permitted to steal/repost my work on other platforms, thank you.

_____________

"hello?" chris said, his voice raspy as he had just finished a twitch stream where he'd been yelling at nick 30 minutes ago.

you sighed. well, it only took 3 calls for him to pick up.

"hey, chris." you still smiled, even if he couldn't see it. maybe it was just you trying to convince yourself you enjoyed this. whatever it was.

the boy behind the phone coughed, taking a sip of his pepsi before he spoke again, "hi, ma,"

his voice softened, making your smile widen as your face flushed.

"how-- how was your day?" chris asked, not an ounce of curiosity in his tone.

could he at least try to sound convincing for once? he'd done it time and time again whenever he lied to you.

"it was fine," you sighed, staring up at the ceiling of your room.

his eyebrows furrowed in both anger and confusion, "what? y/n, c'mon don't have an attitude with me right now.

you raised an eyebrow in confusion, your voice starting to tremble as you knew exactly how this would play out, "i didn't give you an att-"

"it was fine," he tried to mimic your voice, annoyance in the sentence. "and you wonder why i'm always so fucking angry."

not a word left your mouth in response, tears welling up in your eyes as you sniffed quietly before apologizing, "'m sorry,"

for what, though?

your chest rose and fell with every heavy breath you took, trying your best to push the tears back, "i just-- i just wanted to hear your voice before i went to bed."

chris didn't speak, instead he just sighed in disappointment, running a hand through his hair even though it'd just fall right back into place.

"well, you ruined it. maybe if you weren't such a fucking downer all the time people would actually think your fun. bye." the boy said before hanging up, not even giving you a chance to say goodnight.

your eyebrows furrowed, and the suffocating feeling in your throat finally took over as tears rolled down your face, stopping at your jawline before they fell to your collarbone.

"fuck!" you grunted, punching the mattress before chucking your phone across your room without even thinking.

your breathing began to get heavier, and you quickly began to sob, choking out cries as you cursed at yourself.

stupid, stupid, stupid. why must i be so fucking stupid?

you gripped the sheets of your bed tighter, trying to control your breathing as you shut your eyes tightly.

why cry? it's not like this hasn't happened before. you're always the bad guy in situations like this. never him.

but it's not your fault.

deep inhale, deep exhale. over and over again you did this, until your vision finally cleared and your breath was finally even.

you opened your eyes, looking around the room for your phone that you had thrown somewhere earlier.

the floor creaked as your foot hit the floorboard, walking over to your bedroom door and kneeling down to grab the device.

"shit," you muttered, turning it around to reveal multiple of cracks on the screen. your thumb went to the power button, pressing it.

"no, no, no, fuck." continuously you hit the power button, hoping that by a miracle it would turn on and all would be okay.

well, maybe this was the reason your parents told you to get a screen-protector.

maybe this is why he thinks i'm no fun. does he even think i'm pretty?

♡...

_____________

...☆

why am i like this.

chris set his phone on his desk, looking up at his monitor that was currently displaying the fortnite lobby.

his eyes move over to the other monitor, the home screen being a picture of him and you at the beach a few years ago.

a frown washes over his face and he can't help but stare at the picture a little longer, wishing he was back in that moment. he remembers every part of it.

"chris, what the fuck!" you gasped, your mouth agape as the brown-haired boy had just flung water at you.

the boy snickered as he tried, but miserably failed, to run away from you in the water.

"i'd kill him," matt laughed, sitting back on his beach towel as he watched the two of you.

chris continued to slowly run away from you, but you quickly swam towards him and splashed a ton of water at the brunette boy.

"fuck!" he gasped, shivering from the cold even though he was waist deep in the ocean.

"don't be such a baby," you teased, splashing water at him once more before swimming away and onto shore.

chris followed shortly after, stumbling out of the ocean and falling onto the soft sand of the beach.

you laughed, grabbing your phone from your bag as you ran over to him, slinging an arm around his shoulder as you raised your phone camera.

"smile, baby." you said, kissing his sand-covered cheek as you took the picture.

"chris!" matt's voice erupted from down the hall, and chris turned around in his swivel chair to look at his brother.

he cocked an eyebrow, laying back in his seat as he watched matt walk into his room.

"yeah?" the younger brother asked.

"nick and i were thinking y/n should join us for a wednesday vlog. i mean, you've already hard launched her so we don't see why not properly introduce her." he gave his brother a toothy grin, leaning against the door frame and awaiting chris's answer.

his breath caught, and matt seemed to notice, tilting his head as he looked over at chris.

"you okay, chris?"

chris just nodded, blinking a few times to bring himself back to reality, "yeah, yeah. great idea, i'll call her tomorrow, i'm sure she'd be open to the idea."

if she even answers the phone.

matt nodded, smiling as he left chris's room.

the night went by quickly, and every moment up to this one, chris dreaded.

for the first time he'd be the one calling you. why'd he feel so weird? so vulnerable?

his fingers slowly typed in your number, and the first ring didn't even get to his ear before you picked up.

"chris?" your voice was softer than usual, like you were excited.

maybe it was because he was the one to call you this time.

"hey, ma. i'm sorry for yesterday i was 'js stressed," chris muttered, his voice raspy from yesterday and from the fact that he had just woken up.

your smile faded a bit, but your heart warmed at the sound of his voice actually sounding sympathetic for once. was he changing?

"it's... it's okay, i figured you probably had a long day." you smiled, this one more for him than yourself this time.

chris nodded, his heart warming at the reassurance that you had been thinking of him.

it was nothing new, he just never noticed because he was so caught up on himself.

"did-- did you need something, baby?" you asked softly, voice low as to not provoke the boy.

chris let a small smile creep onto his face, "matt had the idea to invite you in on our wednesday vlog,"

the shock on your face wasn't subtle, and you immediately smiled before saying, "wait, seriously? but i thought you wanted to keep our relationship off the media for a while?"

the boy shrugged, adjusting himself so that he held his phone with his shoulder, "well, i did kinda hard-launch you in a friday post, so i'm sure half of the world knows by now,"

your smile widened, face softening at his words.

"so why don't we show the other half how amazing my girlfriend is?" he asked, the smallest hint of excitement in his voice.

"already on my way," you replied, hearing him laugh on the other line.

"and just be warned, i have no idea what the topic is and matt and nick can get a little crazy." chris joked.

"well, whatever it is i doubt it'll be in our favour." you laughed.

_____________

the tripod was propped up in front of the triplets' island, a red glowing dot indicating it was recording.

before the introduction, chris and matt's banter was the first thing to be recorded.

"the fuck?" chris laughed, punching matt in the shoulder.

"well, welcome to our wednesday video! me and matt-- well, mainly matt --came up with the idea for today's vlog." nick explained, looking over to his brothers with a smile.

matt smiled brightly at the camera, giving a dorky thumbs up as he looked over at nick and chris.

chris cringed at both his brothers, "why are you so formal? sound like a dumbass." he snickered.

nick replied with a punch to his brothers chest, and chris made an exaggerated scream.

"kid's crying and he hasn't even heard the video idea," matt joked, and chris shoved him.

nick rolled his eyes before looking over at you, who was standing just out of the sight of the camera.

"and to spice things up a bit, we have a special guest!" he exclaimed, smiling at you.

chris nodded, "very special."

nick gestured towards you, and you took that as a que to walk into frame, waving at the camera before taking the empty seat between him and chris.

"this is y/n, chris's girlfriend!" nick said, gesturing towards you once again before you properly gave a greeting.

"hello, i'm so happy to be here!" you smiled, waving at the camera once again before chris placed a kiss on your cheek.

matt made a face, "maybe save all the lovey-dovey stuff for after the video?"

chris wrapped a hand around your waist before slapping matts arm, "okay mr. i get no bitches."

matt rolled his eyes before turning to the camera again, "so, the inspiration for this video was literally just me and my brothers building lego sets."

"you're speaking as if you're telling a story--" chris started but was quickly interrupted by nicks scream of annoyance.

"do we need the tape again?" he groaned, and chris laughed quietly.

"anyway... as i was saying, me and nick went to target the other day and chris reminded us we needed paper plates, so while we were in the aisle we saw some red solo cups," he explained, looking over at nick who had a mischievous smile plastered on his face.

"so... we're gonna play cup pong!" matt exclaimed like a child, looking over at you and chris.

you smiled, "i'm the best at cup pong,"

nick raised an eyebrow, "well, let's see."

"we're gonna have teams, so that's why we wanted to get y/n into today's video. chris, it looks like you might have an advantage..." matt sighed, "he's the worst at cup pong."

nick hummed in agreement, and chris just rolled his eyes out of fake annoyance, "loser alos has to drink a shot of hot sauce."

your lips upturned into a smirk again, crossing your arms over one another in front of your chest, "alright, then."

_____________

chris groaned as he slammed his fist down onto the island, watching as the orange ping-pong ball bounced off of it.

"better prepare yourself for that hot sauce, chris." matt laughed, throwing the ping-pong ball and landing it inside of a cup.

nick and matt high-fived as they cheered for each other.

it was your turn, you grabbed the ping-pong ball and aimed for a cup, squinting your eyes.

"c'mon, baby, you got this." chris encouraged, his voice low.

you bounced the ball, and it jumped into the cup right before bouncing back out, "this game is rigged, what the fuck?!"

chris dragged his hands down his face in disappointment, walking away from the camera for a few seconds before stepping back into frame.

"ooh! well, you know what that means.." nick laughed, looking over at chris who just growled under his breath.

chris balled his hands into fists, and matt watched his body language change.

"nick, stop the camera." he muttered, nudging his older brother as he pointed to chris.

chris saw and he raised his voice, "the fuck are you pointing at?"

nick didn't move, his eyes trained on chris as the younger boy moved back to the island.

"nick! turn the fucking camera off." matt said, this time louder.

your eyes widened as chris approached the island, knocking all the cups down as they fell to the floor.

"fuck this stupid fucking game!" he yelled, going over to matt and nicks side before throwing all the cups down.

you backed away from the island, eyes widening as your breathing hitched.

"y/n, i can take you home." matt offered, but chris quickly took the keys from the kitchen counter, stomping over to you and roughly grabbing your hand.

"chris, what the fuck?" nick yelled, finally getting over to the camera and turning it off.

"chris!" matt called, but the younger boy just dragged you out of the house and into the mini van.

he slammed the car door, jamming the keys into the ignition before pulling out of their driveway.

"chris," you muttered, and all the boy did was grumble to himself.

"baby, i'm scared." your voice trembled as you held back tears, your eyes focused on chris.

the boy scoffed, looking over at you with wide eyes, "the fuck are you scared for?"

you didn't answer him, feeling the car speed up as his anger grew.

"fucking answer me, y/n!" he yelled, eyes trained on the road as he punched the steering wheel.

you jumped, tears gathering in your eyes as you muttered, "nothing, nevermind."

chris groaned, and then the car fell silent.

the drive to your wasn't far, and chris's anger was quickly rising with every passing second.

he couldn't handle it anymore. he stopped the car just a few blocks from your house, parking on the side of the road for just a minute.

"get out, y/n." he muttered, not caring to even look your way.

you raised an eyebrow, "what?"

he exhaled shakily, gripping on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.

"you heard me loud and clear. get out of the car. now." he said again, looking out of his window.

you didn't move, not even unbuckling your seatbelt, "chris, my house is just a few more blocks--"

"get the fuck out!" he yelled, finally turning to look at you with wide eyes.

the tears finally fell down your face as fear filled your entire being, quickly unbuckling your seatbelt and opening the passenger door.

chris fell back against his seat, head leaning against the headrest as he began to drive away. fast.

you sobbed as you made your way down the sidewalk, keeping your head down the entire way back to your house.

why was he so cruel?

as you approached your house, you remembered the last time he had dropped you off here.

"i love you," he smiled, leaning over the center console to press a soft kiss to your lips.

"i love you, too, baby." you muttered before pulling away and getting out of the car.

chris did, too, following by your side as you walked up the porch.

you giggled, "what's up?"

he just shrugged, stopping behind you as you got to the front door, "just wanted to walk you to the door. needed to make sure you're safe."

"why wouldn't i be safe? what, did you expect me to get kidnapped on the second step i took?" you joked, and ge just nodded nonchalantly.

"my exact thoughts!"

you nudged his shoulder, kissing him on the cheek before entering your house.

the things you would do to experience that again.

but until then it'll always just be this, chris flipping from good to bad.

it's always 1 step forward, and 3 steps back.

. . .

tags: @mattsbbg @55sturn @mayhem-72 @freshloveee @h3arts4harry @films4sturni @voidghsts @thebottledwatersupplier @lanixsturniolo @niicksposts @mattsneezing @stingerayyy2 @sturn-wrld @chrissturnswife

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #he's so babygirl

[sugusearrings]

( ' glass children. ' )

violet wrists and then her ankles, silent pain. then he slowly saw their nightmares were his dreams. monster, how should I feel? creatures lie here, looking through the windows i will hear their voices. i'm a glass child, i am hannah's regrets.

— summary: with the star plasma vessel dead, satoru and suguru need you (fem!reader) to lead them to their next path. — genre: angst. heartbreak. — playing: monster by meg & dia — note(s): i'm a sucker for what ifs. i love what ifs. good and bad. i thought about this what if a lot. i wanted to write about this since halloween and didn't have time to post it. i just know suguru and satoru are better than me cause everyone would have gotten this smoke. that's all imma say. anyways, mentions of blood & death. probably some spelling errors here and there. — word count: 866

Those beautiful cerulean blue hues still sparkled as the light down on them.

But the spark of life was gone. They were dull. Lifeless. Emotionless. You never saw them like this before.

You could feel the anxiety swallowing you whole. If someone looked closely, they can see your legs trembling slightly. The two boys in front of you were having a brief conversation but you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t hear anything over the loud sounds of your heart rate picking up at a rapid pace. You couldn’t even hear the round of applause the strangers that crowded around the white hair teenager who held the lifeless body like he did the first time meeting her.

They were clapping for Satoru. Fucking clapping.

You just stared at the crowd in disbelief. What kind of people would approve of this? What kind of people are happy over this? The death of a young girl.

A young girl you considered your friend.

Monsters...monsters... “Suguru...should we kill these guys? The way I am right now I doubt I’d feel anything.” His voice was hoarse. But what made your heart ache was hearing no emotion in his tone. It matched his stare. Dull. Lifeless. Emotionless. Your eyes went over to Suguru. His back was faced to Satoru but you saw his almond shaped eyes were as wide as they can be but soon he pulled himself back together. He always does. He has too. “No. There’s no point. It’ll be dissolved soon enough.” His voice mimic the tone Satoru set. He began to walk towards the door to get out of there. He was sick of the clapping and the smell of the dried blood that lingeried. He was sick of this. He was sick of this life. He was sick of death. He was sick of curses. “No point, huh? Does there really need to be any point to it?” Satoru asked or stated. You couldn’t really tell. You went to follow behind Suguru like a lost puppy but Satoru called out your name.

“Name...”

"Y-yes...Satoru?" your gentle voice trembled.

"What do you think we should do?" Satoru asked you. His eyes didn’t look at you. They just looked straight ahead into nothing. Suguru's eyes went over to you almost forgetting you were even there. Your eyes was puffy and red from crying. You were the emotional one out of the three. That's why Satoru would tease you about being weak. You were a crybaby. But Suguru didn't see an issue with it, he likes you like this. So did Satoru but he wouldn't openly admit it. You reminded him about those certain emotions he swore he couldn’t feel anymore. "Name...what should we do?" Suguru also asked willing to do anything you said. The self proclaimed brains of this trio couldn’t think straight or logically. So it was up to you.

The boys looked over at you for an answer. An answer you didn't have. This wasn't fair. These higher ups using you children. Not caring if you killed one another or died in front of each other. You loved your best friends. Especially Satoru and Suguru, willing to do anything to protect them. Even Riko. They were the only family you have. But would the higher ups mourn you? Would the higher ups sink into a dark hole of depression? Would the higher ups get revenge on you? Or would they replace you like a piece of livestock. They would probably replace you in a matter of days.

They probably would assign Satoru and Suguru a mission while your ashes are still warm.

Satoru and Suguru.

The thought of leaving them behind made you feel sick at the pit of your stomach. How would Satoru handle it? You knew Suguru would break in a matter of days. He bottles so much inside of him it would just burst out. Would they keep it together if you were to die? Or would they lose it themselves.

You know you would lose it if either of them or both of them were to die. Leaving you all alone. To defend yourself. To love yourself. You couldn’t imagine a world without them. The three of you were glued to each other, couldn’t really function without the other.

You could feel the anger replacing the fear and anxiety. On the inside your morals and humanity was being teared apart, stripped away from you the more you stared at Riko's lifeless body in Satoru's arms covered by a thin white cloth. "Name..." Suguru called out to you once more. There wasn’t much time to make a decision. "Kill them," you finally answered losing all emotions you had that day, "kill them all." That's all Satoru needed to hear. His lips formed a wicked grin as Suguru silently summoned the rainbow dragon. You stood watched the blood being splattered on the walls and floors. The screams made you smile like that day on the beach with your best friends.

That’s where your mind was. The day on the beach with Riko and Satoru laughing at the sea cucumber while you, Suguru, and Misato were on the beach towels just watching them with smile of your faces.

#i had to re-write the beginning because tumblr didn't save it in my drafts yay ✨ #they were fucking kids bro 😢 #and if geto didn't stop gojo he would've been the villian #geto did that stopping gojo from turning evil #like thats why gojo was so mad not because geto became bad because he left him behind #i can go all day about this #dont get me started #satosugu drabble #satosugu x you #satosugu x reader #satosugu angst #( sugusearrings writing * ) #jjk fanfic #jjk drabble #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x you #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[hearts4hughes]

I HATE IT HERE | JACK HUGHES

summary: in which her relationship with jack seems too good to be real. (0.7k words)

authors note: taylor really called out us delusional girlies and daydreamers with this song! it’s my favorite on the album and it deserves something so enjoy this very short writing!

"come on, don't be scared," jack chuckles as he slowly guides you. you look down, a suspiciously nice pair of skates clad to your feet.

"i'm going to fall!" you squeal, attempting to mimic the way he skates.

his giggle fills the cold air surrounding you. after a day of cozying up together in jack’s lake house, he gets the bright idea that he wants to teach you how to skate. after going to the store and buying you a pair of skates— that he won’t specify the price of— he leads you outside onto the ice. it takes you about ten minutes to even step foot onto the frozen death trap. but with your boyfriend’s persuasive smile and adorable face, you land yourself on the ice, anxiously moving your feet side to side.

"you're fine," he says, his hand moving to your waist. in the cold michigan evening, his hand on your waist sends warmth up your spine.

it all feels too surreal. from the dusting of snow around you to the romantic atmosphere, you feel like you're in one of your favorite romance novels. it all feels too familiar, and at the same time, your eyes scan around you, trying to treasure the moment.

jack stares up at you with a toothy grin. he looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world; like you hung the stars in the sky.

“what are you looking at, rowdy?” you say with a smug expression. his face flushes a deep maroon and his eyes fall to the ground. “going shy on me now, are we?”

“i feel like you’re forgetting who’s teaching you how to skate right now.” his hand falls down your waist, giving your butt a squeeze. your bottom lip juts out as he lets out a boyish grin.

“shut up and show me how to move faster.” you retort, though a pink blush still lingers on your cheeks.

jack takes one hand off of your waist, turning his body and slowly demonstrating how he pushes his leg out at an angle. he swiftly picks up speed as you hold onto him. it looks so simple. all it is, is the movement of his legs and feet, but as you try it, you slip, clinging to jack’s body and pulling him down with you.

somehow, his body hits the ice first and you land on top of him. your eyes are wide as you both look at each other. as the realization of what happens sets in, you both bark out in laughter. you snuggle your face into the crook of his neck, an attempt to silence your laughter.

“i love you so damn much.” he says in pure awe.

“i love you so damn much!” you mock him, lifting your head from his chest and staring at him below you.

his cheeks are pink from the cold and his hair a wavy mess that not even the winter hat on his head can hide. your eyes flick down to his lips. they look so plump and kissable.

you lower face, stopping just an inch above his lips. he smirks, “what are you waiting for?” his words are barely above a whisper, eliciting butterflies in your stomach.

but just as your lips press against his, you hear a distant voice.

“y/n?” mr. samson, your ap history teacher, calls out. “are you paying attention?”

you blink, looking around the classroom. you’re in high school, not michigan, and the boy nearest to you is not jack hughes. the realization sets in, causing a pit in your stomach. you suddenly feel nauseous.

had you daydreamed about a relationship with jack hughes once again? no, you couldn’t have. it seemed so real; it felt so real. it was almost like you could feel jack’s hands on your waist, leaving a permanent stain of warmth around your hips.

you swallowed harshly as everyone’s eyes followed you awaiting an answer. “y-yes.” your voice was shaky. people in the back of the classroom snickered at you as others furrowed their brows. your skin felt hot with embarrassment. it was nothing like the flush you felt when jack complimented you.

“ok then.” mr. samson said as he continued his lesson.

you sighed, grabbing your pencil and copying down the notes on the board. you pushed back the recollections of your daydream, putting them into one of the many secret gardens in your mind. they would stay there patiently awaiting until you unlocked and relived them again.

if only.

#nora’s writings 💐 #jack hughes #new jersey devils #nhl imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes imagines