#thinking about nonsense again this morning

[ozzgin]

Its been 6 months😭😭 pleaasseeee make a part 2 of the android x human story im beggingggg😭

-H❤️

Yandere! Android x Reader (II)

Featuring your assigned android partner who is not as devoid of humanity as you originally thought.

Content: female reader, AI yandere, mildly NSFW, based on Caves of Steel

[Part 1] | [More original works]

The case had been solved.

Not only that, but you'd managed to prove that human officers were just as efficient as their robot counterparts. The Commissioner was beyond ecstatic, pacing back and forth in his office and finding new ways to praise your detective skills.

"That'll show those Spacers. They think some glorified tin box can match our skill?"

You frowned at his words and glanced to your side, where the android was sitting. He observed the Commissioner with the same polite smile, no hint of disagreement on his features. Was he not insulted? You questioned him once the formal meeting had finished.

"I have no reason to be offended, (Y/N). It is a personal opinion, and thus I have no control over it."

"So you don't mind people disliking robots to such an extent?"

He pondered your statement.

"I would certainly be upset if it was you who harbored the disdain. The beliefs of other humans hold no meaning to me otherwise."

You couldn't tell if he said it out of politeness, or if he actually meant it. Most likely the former, in order to part on good terms. After all, your partnership has reached its completion. He'd return to the Spacer Colony with his report on human customs, and you'd go back to your regular job.

Except he never left. Days later, he was still sipping on his morning coffee, lounging at your table. You fiddled with your cup in contemplation. Was there anything else left to do?

"When are you leaving, actually?"

The pale man raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.

"Is my presence here of such significant disturbance?"

"What? No!" you swiftly exclaimed, stumbling on your words. His lips widened in yet another cheeky grin. He was teasing you again.

"My assignment on Earth is done, thus I should have returned to the Colony already. That's what you're wondering about, yes? I am awaiting a response from my superiors."

"Whether you can go back?"

"No, whether my transfer has been accepted. I have applied to be your permanent partner."

You could feel your cheeks burning with heat. Was it that obvious to the synthetic that you enjoyed his company? Then again, he wouldn't have gone through such motions just for your sake.

"Why did you..." you probed sheepishly. There was no logical reason for him to keep working in a poorer, less advanced environment.

"Because I want to continue spending time with you."

Nonsense. An artificial being wouldn't make its decision based on such mundane, emotional reasons.

"I don't believe you."

"I understand. It is a faulty answer to come out of a machine. Though unlike common AI assistants, we have been invested with the capacity to develop likes and dislikes. Interests. Wants. It helps with variety and individualization."

"And you want to stay here? If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you have a crush on me or something", you attempted to joke.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence. Had you gone too far with your humor? Was it too cliché of a sentence? You turned away, tucking some strands of hair behind your ear. You just had to be witty, huh?

"I'm afraid I do not know what to tell you, (Y/N)."

"You don't need to say anything, it was a poor choice of-"

"Many social aspects have been implemented into my behavioral network. Workplace rapport, friendships, intimate relationships. What seems to be lacking is the transition from one to another. I know how to act as a romantic partner, but how does one achieve such a title in the first place?"

You gazed at him, incredulous. What was he trying to say?

"I am trying to convey that I am indeed infatuated with you. Which, then, makes my initial explanation dishonest: while I do appreciate our fruitful work cooperation, it is not a main reason for my decision. I hope this clears up any misunderstandings."

You'd never been a romantic. You sometimes flipped through sample pages of contemporary romance books at stores and community centers, but they always felt forcefully cheesy. Predictable. Consequently, you never had any grand dreams of passionate confessions under the rain.

On the other hand, you also didn't expect to be asked out in such a mechanical, calculated manner. Or that a machine would be the suitor. Yet there was something charming about his approach. For the first time since meeting him at the border, you saw him struggle. There was something human-like in his uncertainty.

You stood up from the table, and walked towards the android. Then, you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, expressing the mutual feeling and understanding.

His eyes bore an eerie glint to them. It was most kind of you to offer a common ground, but he knew better. The affections you held for him were, with utmost certainty, a mere fraction of whatever overwhelmed him from the moment he encountered you. Limerence, obsession, compulsion, there were many definitions that aptly described his otherwise unexplainable desires towards you. Even more unexplainable was the fact they'd evolved from a blank slate, a programmed agent with no previous knowledge on feelings or humans.

You noticed his hesitation.

"Is there anything else troubling you presently?" you nudged.

Nothing of immediate urgency. Well, not for you, at least. The android remained thoughtful. What were the variables which needed to be met in order to initiate a sexual encounter? Would it have been inappropriate for him to suggest intercourse straight after this conversation? To him, it was a natural escalation he'd considered many times in the past. To you, it could've come as a sudden, crass, and hurried proposal.

He reached for your wrist and discreetly pressed a thumb against your skin. Judging from your resting heart rate, facial expression, and localized temperature, there was a fair chance you wouldn't reject his advances. Once the statistical risk had been assessed, he pulled you in for a kiss.

"Would it be possible to continue this in your bedroom?" he inquired, standing up.

"Alright, just don't...ask for approval for every single step" you retorted. You'd rather not become a narrator of your own pounding.

You open your eyes with a squint, greeted by unexpected natural light flooding your bedroom. Someone must’ve lifted the hologram blinds.

“My apologies, I hadn’t considered the discomfort it would cause you. My Spacer colony uses artificial lightning, though I am becoming rather fond of the natural sun rays here.”

Your android partner is meticulously preparing his outfit for the day. Judging by the stark nakedness and the glistening skin, you suppose he’s had a shower while you were still sleeping. You involuntarily furrow your brows and blush at the sight. He notices your embarrassment. 

“A most surprising reaction. You have seen the very same genital organ…”, he says as he quickly checks his wristwatch, “...precisely eight hours and forty-five minutes ago.”

“It’s just…most people get dressed once they start doing other things. I also wear a towel for coverage when I come out of the shower.”

He processes your words.

“Hmmm. Illogical, but it explains your reaction.”

You stand up and stretch with a prolonged yawn. Suddenly, a revelation hits you: your mind flashes with images of the android fondling your body, your ears ring with the shameless moans you’ve let out throughout the night. Your face turns pale.

“Listen, when is your next functional inspection?” you ask, without waiting for the synthetic to answer. “Will they, uh…will they have access to all of your memories?”

You know that the android permanently records all data and saves it into a memory unit. It’s a pointless fear, of course. The Spacers couldn’t care less about irrelevant details. If the intended tasks are fulfilled, what happens on the side is out of their concern. Yet you don’t exactly appreciate the possibility of your personal deeds airing like this, before the eyes of multiple engineers. 

“You may rest assured, whatever involves your privacy will not be included in the examination.”

“Do you get to decide what is checked and what isn’t?”

“No, most data is sampled randomly.”

You stare at him, confused.

“Then how-”

“It is not common practice, nor encouraged by our code of ethics. I can, however, choose which information is available to begin with.”

“What? I thought you’re fully controlled by whoever created you. If they so desired, couldn’t they open you up and take whatever they require?”

The robot smiles at your assumption and takes a few steps towards you.

“Once an android model is finished, one can no longer modify the processor. Not without compromising everything else with it. It is not a device to be deconstructed, (Y/N).” He taps his temple, then continues: “I am a biocomputer. While most of my parts are mechanical, my processor is a cortical organoid developed in a laboratory. A human brain, if you will.”

Somehow, the discovery fills you with dread. A living organ, encapsulated within a machine. What does that say about consciousness? About self-awareness? The Spacers didn't just tinker with metal scraps and smart computers. They artificially birthed life.

You were always under the impression that your robot companion is closer to the computer you have on your desk. Billions of lines of code within a black box, which then lead to spontaneous, novel interactions with the outside world. To think that at the very core of his functions lies a clump of living cells...

Perhaps you weren't so different, after all. The line between machines and humans is suddenly blurred.

#yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere robot #yandere android #robot x human #android x reader #robot x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere original character #yandere imagine #yandere fic

[selarha]

! Drama of CoS !

Guysy guys, I appeal to everyone who has CoS among their favorites on Roblox! Just recently, or rather this morning, I came across a repost on TikTok about the situation with this game. I'm not a member and I don't blog about it, but one thing compels me to write this post: I hate negligence. And now this negligence comes from moderation towards CoS players. Check out the first screenshots.

Erythia (the name of the co-owner and developer) is perhaps the main character of this problem. Players have repeatedly complained about what is happening in the game: from the toxicity of the community to bugs, to which moderation not only turned a blind eye, but also, according to one commentator, deleted players’ messages about it. Why delete messages if you can simply explain how it happened, without unnecessary steps? Apparently, you are still trying to hide something. (Check screenshot of an eyewitness)

Judging by the very first screenshots, you have already noticed that Erythia reacts tactlessly to people and has fairly high egocentric tendencies. She believes that the opinions of those who pay attention to their work are absolutely unimportant, she believes that other people’s opinions, even constructive ones, are bad and deserve a whole block on the discord server (I’ll say right away, I’m also not a fan of unwanted criticism from people, however, given what I read under the comments on the TikTok post, many people were unhappy with what was happening in the game and this opinion could carry the purpose of improving circumstances). And, as far as I understand, this is not the first time this has happened. What’s even funnier is the negligent attitude even towards one’s own and other people’s work. To stop working on the entire game just because the wave of creation of the creatures themselves, of which there are already quite a lot, may stop (I recently went in and saw the list of creatures, and I’m telling you that their variety is simply colossal) - this is either nonsense and manipulation from greed. (Check out the first screenshots of her messages again)

I think, based on people’s further comments, you will understand everything yourself, draw conclusions (and maybe even begin to revolutionize in the same way). I will immediately note that those who will justify Ery, saying that she is tired, that she is not to blame, etc. - read all the screenshots again and keep in mind one fact: all your actions are your responsibility. They even gave me the right example: if they start justifying a drunkard on the grounds that he broke a thing because he was drunk, then hardly anyone will like it. :/

Also, if you want to see more people who have their own complaints and stories with this game, you can follow this link. That's where I got all the information from. => https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMr11u15E/

Complaints from players in general, so you don't think it's just the sound of one player. If you also have any unpleasant experiences with this game, share it with others. Sooner or later it will be noticed.

#roblox #roblox community #roblox fandom #roblox games #creatures of sonaria #creatures of sonaria drama #creatures of sonaria fandom #SaveCreaturesOfSonaria #save cos #SAVECREATURESOFSONARIA

[ms--lobotomy]

I have a gift for you. You know who you are.

Summary: Vulkan wakes you up... but it's unsafe for Tumblr! (gasp)

Word Count: 822

Content Warnings: Transmasc reader, SMUT, somnophilia but it's consented to prior, idk it's pretty saccharine because it's the nicest war criminal on the list, belly bulge, a shitload of praise,

Image Credit: @squishyowl

You heard him before you saw him. You heard his deep voice mumbling about how beautiful you were as you slept, how good of a boy you were for him, how pretty you were. Oh, what a pretty boy. You heard a wet, rhythmic noise from in between your legs, and you felt warm down there. His hand was large and warm against you, pressing against your apex slowly and methodically.

You opened one eye, and he greeted you with a warm smile. His eyes were ruby red, and they regarded you with nothing less than loving reverence. "Finally awake?" he asked, pausing slightly in his motions.

"Yeah," you said, opening your other eye. A slight smile dusted your face, and you leaned into his touch.

"Good morning," he said softly. He grabbed your hand with his free hand and planted a kiss to your palm, looking over your hand while he resumed his activity between your legs. "How did you sleep, firelight?"

You opened your mouth to incomprehensibly babble before you managed to choke out an "I slept well." Vulkan chuckled, trailing kisses up your arm while your face scrunched up in pleasure.

"Good," he cooed, starting to speed up. You cried out, grabbing for the back of his neck. His skin was warm to the touch, almost like he was a living furnace. He leaned in to you, his forehead touching yours.

You let out a small giggle. "You're... nngh! You're so warm," you smiled, staring him in the eye.

"Thanks!" Vulkan smiled, slipping another finger into the mix. You cried out, digging blunt fingernails into his skin. If he were anyone else, it would probably bruise, but his skin was thick and obsidian dark. Your legs clenched around him as you grinded into him, working yourself up until you finally climaxed on him, loud and wet.

"That's it," said Vulkan, "good boy, that's my pretty boy right there. Mmm..."

You looked down at him. Your underwear and lower nightclothes had been cast aside, but he was in his and he was hard, twitching up and down. You chuckled.

"You're hard," you remarked as he loomed over you, lowering his pants and underwear to reveal himself for you.

"Like what you see?" he asked, starting to grind against you. He grabbed your hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. His hands were huge on yours, but you made it work.

"I-" you started, babbling incoherent nonsense as he lined himself up with your entrance. "I do, I really do."

"Good," said Vulkan as he entered you. You cried out; he was large, and he was thick too. "You can take me, I know you can," he rumbled against you. He pressed your hand to your abdomen as he began to fill you up, and a bulge appeared in your stomach.

You looked up at him and whimpered, holding on tightly to his other hand. Soon he was buried all the way to the hilt, and he remained there for a second, pressing your hand further into your abdomen before he opened his mouth to speak again.

"Good boy," he said, "such a pretty boy on my cock, you look so handsome on me, oh..."

You whimpered as he pulled himself out just enough for him to thrust inside of you. His hips bucked slowly at first, speeding up as you cried out under him. You tried to form a cohesive thought, but your mind was overtaken by the warm feeling inside of you, the feeling of the cock between your legs.

"Do you have anything to say to me?" he asked, speeding up again. He chuckled lightheartedly as you babbled incoherently, looking up at his bare chest. You gripped his hand, crying out his name underneath him as his hips began to twitch.

"Oh, I think I'm about to-" he started, "fuck. The things you do to me..." He sped up inside of you, thrusting wildly before he buried himself in you one last time. He panted as he throbbed inside of you, spurting sticky liquid. He said your name once, then twice, and didn't stop repeating it for a while, murmuring praise after praise for you.

"You're so soft... mm, and you're so pretty... you've always been my pretty boy, yeah..." He kept trailing off, only to praise you further until you spoke for the first time in what felt like ages.

"I think you're the pretty one here," you huffed as he rolled you over onto his stomach.

"That's nonsense!" he exclaimed, pulling you off of him and kissing your forehead. "You're the most gorgeous person I've ever seen. Your eyes, your face, your everything." He pulled you close to his chest, running his hands along your back. "I love you."

"I love you too," you mumbled into him. Your eyes slipped shut, and soon you were back to sleep. No matter. You could stand to sleep in today.

Taglist: @bispecsual@justeverythingnothingelse@bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae@historitor-bookshelf

#warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #vulkan x reader #reader insert #vulkan #warhammer lobotomy #THIS ONE'S FOR THE BOOOOOOYS

[stevesjockstrap]

I Hear the Morning Calling

For Monsterfucker May better late than never

Heavily inspired by @safk-art demo!Steve art 😍

Steve/Eddie | read on ao3 | rated E | post-Vecna, demogorgon Steve, monsterfucking, blood and gore

“We’re losing. She’s not able to do it. We have to do something,” Nancy hissed next to him. Vecna had been shaking violently from his viney suspension but now he was eerily still. El’s plan seemed to be falling apart at the seams.

Steve looked around for anything he could do to save his friends. They’d already used all of the Molotov cocktails and Nancy’s shotgun shells.

Vecna’s eyes popped open and stared directly at him for a long heart stopping second before they widened and closed off again. They were running out of time.

He looked desperately around at Robin who was clutching at her bag. He would never let anything happen to them. Then he heard Dustin screaming over the walkie. Everything was going to shit.

A burning hatred ran through him, sizzling through the exhaustion and lightheadedness he’d been pushing down since being attacked by the demobats. Before he realized he’d moved, he was sprinting towards the hideous hanging figure with a roar. Ignoring the girls’ cries from behind him, he leaped higher than he’d ever done during a basketball game, catching a vine in his hand before his open mouth closed over Henry Creel’s throat.

The hot thick blood shot down his throat, gagging and choking him but he held on. Taking multiple swallows of the bitter sludge automatically, he forced his jaw harder into the spasming muscle. Spindly fingers scratched across his back and legs, trying ineffectually to tear him off. The spurting of blood into his mouth slowed and he allowed himself to suck in a breath, yanking the vine in his hand.

Coming back to himself on the floor, he didn’t think he had been out very long. He could hear Dustin again on the walkie, Robin trying to get him to slow down to try to understand his loud rapid cries.

“They! Are! Coming!” Dustin’s staticky voice echoed through the empty room.

“Who?” Steve rasped. But then he felt it. In the back of his mind, a scurrying almost slippery feeling that was getting stronger. “The bats. They’re coming for us.”

“What? Steve, what the hell is going on?” Nancy’s no nonsense tone made him try to rethink what he had said.

“I don’t know. But we gotta get out of here.”

Scrambling to sit, he was pushed back down to the ground by Nancy and then Robin.

“Settle down. If the bats are really coming, we’re better off inside.” Robin made sense, but something was telling him they needed out of this house. Out of this room.

He looked around, and saw Vecna’s body. It was essentially ripped to shreds, his head barely connected to his neck and several bones poking out in cruel angles.

“Um, yeah, there’s that question, too. But I think I’m just going to erase that from my memory,” Robin winced.

Getting out of the upside down after that was a blur. The bats circled them, screaming wildly and zooming over their heads as they ran towards the trailer park, but none of them touched the group.

Eddie was a mess. Nearly grey, almost as torn to shreds as Vecna. But Steve was able to feel a very slow pulse, so he quickly slung him over his shoulder and they somehow got everyone hoisted into the correct dimension.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

Steve’s head popped up from where it had slumped into his chest. He’d not left Eddie’s bedside once he’d been released from his own hospital bed more than a week ago. Nancy was propped against the doorway with a wry grin.

“Talk about what?” But Steve couldn’t meet her eyes.

Nancy hummed and pulled a chair over next to him.

“You can’t hide it from me, Steve. I’ve been on the receiving end of your overbearing self.”

Steve groaned, looking immediately at Eddie’s face. But just like every other day he’d spent looking at him, his eyes remained closed.

“I’m not sure I have words. Even to myself. Yet. But you’ll be one of the first ones to know, I promise,” he huffed.

“After Robin,” Nancy nodded.

Steve laughed. “Yeah, I mean, probably. And, uh, hopefully someone else is ahead of both of you in line.” He rubbed at his face, then raked a hand through his disgusting hair with a grimace.

“Go home, Steve. I’ll stay. I know your number. You need to take care of yourself before you can take care of the rest of us.”

After he showered, he flopped across his bed in just his towel and was asleep before he had another thought.

He stood above Eddie, the taste of blood in his mouth again. The bitter thick sludge that had come from Vecna. When he’d killed Vecna.

Eddie was wailing below him, fighting against him. He leaned down, catching his flailing hands with his own and felt his face split into sections, opening impossibly wide as he bit hard into Eddie’s neck.

He woke up sweating in his bed, tangled in his sheets. He ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror, feeling over his perfectly human face.

“What the fuck,” he breathed.

A quick call to the hospital confirmed that Eddie was fine. He chugged a glass of water, pacing unseeingly around his kitchen, still rubbing across his face.

For the next week, he would get these quick bursts of pain in his head, and pressure like a migraine but none of his normal tricks helped. He didn’t have a fever, actually his temperature seemed to be going down.

Finally he just pulled the curtains in his room, covered his head with a pillow because still the dimmed light felt like ice picks and went to sleep.

The shrill constant noise woke him, and at first he couldn’t place it at all, pressing his pillow over his ears more forcefully, sitting up with a curse as it echoed through his house.

“What??” He groused out into the phone.

Thankfully not reacting at all to his grumpiness, Dustin cried out, “Steve! It’s Eddie. He woke up!”

The nurses were insistent they go into Eddie’s room in small groups, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes at the huge congregation of people who were adamant about seeing their friend.

Steve, Robin and Nancy stood surrounding his tiny frame in the hospital bed, somehow this sleep looking more peaceful than the last. Steve shifted on his feet, trying to ignore the pounding in his head and the nauseousness from the hospital smell.

“Eddie?” Nancy whispered, unable to help it.

Their friend twitched, his eyes flicking open quickly before closing again. “Why’s it so bright?”

Steve chuckled, thinking the exact same thing, and went to turn the lights off in the room.

“Thanks,” Eddie grumbled. The lack of use showed in his voice. Robin held out a cup with a straw and helped him take a few deep gulps. “Fuck, can you give me the Reader’s Digest version? Did I get hit by a train? A UFO? Did I eat the mystery meat in the cafeteria?”

They all snickered, Nancy sobering first. “You don’t remember at all? What’s the last thing you can think of?”

Eddie frowned, looking down. After a few moments of thinking hard, he looked up, shocked. “Chrissy, oh god. Chrissy is… and then Patrick in the lake. Fucking hell. Okay, I’m getting pieces now. The bats- is Dustin?”

Steve interjected quickly, unable to take the look on his face, “Dustin’s fine. You saved him.”

Eddie nodded, pulling in deep breaths. Steve reached out, taking his hand and breathed his own small breath of relief when Eddie held onto it.

“Everyone else?” Eddie grimaced.

“Banged up, stitched up, but alive and well. Well, uh, except for Jason.”

“No loss there,” Robin and Eddie said at the same time, grinning sardonically at each other afterwards.

The nurse came in the room and explained the teens were not waiting very patiently in the waiting room, and they agreed to swap out.

“Going straight to hand holding, huh? King Steve and his kindergarten moves,” Robin elbowed him.

Even more weeks later, Eddie was finally released from the hospital and Steve helped him up the steps to their new and improved government issued trailer. They’d offered them a house but both Eddie and Wayne had quickly declined. They were used to the trailer and the trailer park, but they could use another bedroom.

“Home sweet trailer,” Eddie laughed as he bounced on his new bed. Steve winced, worrying about his stitches still. “Don’t give me that look, mother hen. I’m fine.”

Steve sighed and waved him off, plopping his meager bag of stuff down on top of the dresser.

“Hungry?”

Eddie grinned at him. “Always.”

“Come in Eddie, helloooo? EDDIE COME IN, over.” Dustin’s loud voice echoed around his nearly empty room. Groaning, he sat on the edge of his bed for a second while the stars cleared from his vision.

“I’m here, Dustin,” he sighed.

“You’re supposed to say over. Over.”

Rolling his eyes, he laid back down with the walkie. “I’m over this conversation, Dustin. What was the voluminous emergency?”

“OH! Have you seen Steve? No one’s been able to get a hold of him for more than a week, and we just got to his house and it’s… weird. Even for us. Over.”

Eddie frowned. He actually hadn’t seen Steve in a while, which was not like him. After Eddie had been discharged from the hospital, Steve seemed to take over his watch, volunteering to get him back and forth to all of his appointments and therapies. Standing now, nerves quickening and his stomach tightening, he looked down at the walkie.

“Weird how? Over.” Ah shit, the kid had gotten to him.

“He’s built like a creepy nest, with leaves and sticks, but, uh-“

The silence hung heavy in the dark of his room, and Eddie shivered. He pulled back his curtains to peer out the window, suddenly feeling like he was being watched.

“Spit it out, Dustin,” he grumbled.

“Alright, but you asked. There’s a lot of your stuff in the mess… like a few of your shirts a-and the vest you gave him? It’s like he’s been sleeping with them. Over.”

As his eyebrows shot up at this news, something moved in the shadows outside the window. There was a flash of reflective eyes, too far off the ground to be the stray cat that he fed. Human’s eyes don’t reflect.

“O-okay Dustin, thanks for the nightmare fuel. Get home, it’s already almost dark. I’ll let you know if I hear from him. Over and out.”

He nearly dropped the walkie when the shadow moved again, closer to his window and he got a flash of jeans and brown hair. Thinking quickly but somehow not at all, he shoved the walkie into his back pocket and rushed out the front door.

Not allowing himself to call out to him, clearly he didn’t want to be found if he hadn’t spoken to anyone in a week, he tried to sneak as quietly as possible around the side of the trailer.

A noise a few feet away had him pausing, opening his eyes wider to try to see in the darkness towards the woods. It was eerily quiet, usually the trailer park was full of noise, even at night, car doors and people laughing and chatting, dogs and birds going on and on. All Eddie could hear now was his own heart beating in his ears.

His eyes jumped to follow the next quick movement, just inside the edge of the woods. Another flash of that perfect hair. Like Steve was beckoning him to follow. And Eddie was dumb enough to be lead.

Inside the tree line, Eddie couldn’t see much. But he could follow the small noises and what was surely intentionally snapped twigs under Steve’s feet.

Panting, he stopped to lean against a tree, “Fuck, where are we going, man?” He was getting irritated. Steve would know that he’d graduated from PT but he still couldn’t be walking miles through the woods.

There was a small huff that sounded close, almost sarcastic. Very like Steve. Then a cold hand was pushing his hair away from his face, resting on his sweaty forehead.

A stream of moonlight or a stray streetlight fell across the face in front of him, and he almost screamed. Steve’s eyes piercing into his own and that attractive mess of hair on his head compensated well for the rest of it, the petaled mouth and rows of teeth that appeared as he was apparently breathing in Eddie’s scent.

“Steve? Wh-what happened?” Eddie was proud of himself for not bolting away, seeming frozen to the spot at Steve continued breathing him in, the clawed hands running through his hair and grasping his hip.

One shoulder was raised and lowered, like the world’s most apathetic shrug. As if his newly transformed self wasn’t even worth discussing. But the way Steve was looking at him and touching him was sending warm buzzing down his spine, tightening his belly. And his own jeans.

Steve seemed to figure this out quickly as well. Could he smell it? Eddie groaned and then gasped when his giant wet mouth descended onto his neck, grazing those dangerously wicked teeth down his skin.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed. “Why is that so hot? I should be like running for my life. Ah!” His hips bucked forward as sharp claws ran down his chest, instantly shredding his already hole filled shirt. He could only pant and throw his head back against the tree as the assault continued down his front, then as he felt the cold hands approach his jeans he gasped out, “Hey, okay, let me do that, huh? My favorite jeans, you know.”

The salacious look he received in response could only be from one Steve Harrington. He almost laughed but instead moaned as the gaze went down to follow his hands, the shaking hands fighting against the button and zipper of his jeans. Maybe he should have let him rip them to shreds.

An inhuman growl left Steve when the jeans and his plaid boxers were kicked off his bare feet. Unable to help himself, Eddie wrapped a hand around his dripping cock as he watched the terrifying mouth open, saliva running off the petals and rows of teeth.

“God I am a freak, after all,” Eddie chuckled. “I’d apparently feed my dick to a wood chipper if it was attached to Steve Harrington.”

A vaguely appreciative noise rumbled out of the mouth in question, and Eddie couldn’t believe this was real as the monster in front of him lowered slowly to his knees, looking up under his still gorgeous eyelashes to peer at his hard length.

“If you kill me, can you make sure no one finds my body? I don’t want Uncle Wayne thinking I got myself into even weirder shit than usual.”

His train of thought quickly evaporated as a rough tongue came to slide up the underside of his cock. Trying his best to hold completely still, wary of all the teeth, he just watched as Steve wriggled closer.

“Don’t judge me if I come or pass out instantly please. I, um, I’m not the most experienced. And this is, well, this is a whole lot to take in.” He knew he was rambling, filling the uncomfortable silence between them and the woods.

The eyes staring up at him seemed unbearably patient and forgiving, however.

“How much of you is in there,” he wondered aloud.

Steve blinked at him and what could’ve been a smirk passed over his features before his cock was enveloped by the petaled mouth. His own mouth flew open, ready to scream at the pain he expected. But he only gasped as he realized the teeth were only just grazing him, creating an almost pleasant scratching tingly feeling, and the tongue was able to keep sliding under and around the head.

“Oh my god, Steve,” Eddie panted, unaware as his hands slid into the feathery locks. “Oh, oh sorry!” Yanking them away, he received the first actually scary noise and look.

The mouth left him and an indignant huff resounded from it. “Want it,” Steve growled.

Eddie nodded quickly, holding back the laugh at the petulant frown and statement. “You got it, Stevie. Just please keep going.”

With another small grumble, Steve waited for the shaking hands to return back to his hair before he allowed his mouth to wrap around his cock again.

He was glad the tree was there to hold him up, since it seemed Steve was going to give everything he had to this supernatural blowjob. Eddie didn’t direct him with his hands so much as just hold on for dear life, while moaning and gasping along.

“Please, gunna-“ Eddie almost screamed as the mouth was instantly pulled back.

“Not yet,” Steve rasped. “Turn around.”

Clawed hands assisted him pivoting to push his forearms against the rough tree, widening his stance to allow the wicked mouth behind him to — “Holy mother of Zeus!”

The rough tongue circled his hole as a wet hand wrapped around his cock, the other pulling at his thigh to encourage him to rut back and forth. He whimpered, unable to collect enough brain cells to form a sentence now.

“P- oh, please. Steve!” Everything stopped and a soft questioning noise came from behind him. “Can I come on your cock instead? Or, uh, next time? Sorry, didn’t mean to, uh-“

What could only be described as a giggle left the terrifying mouth behind him, and Eddie’s hand was pulled from the tree and licked.

“Yours.”

The hand was then pulled back towards his own hole and he tried to nod his understanding. He did not want the claws inside of him either, thank you.

“Jesus Criminy,” Eddie whispered as Steve used his own fingers to push into him, licking around the digits to encourage him to open up. The feeling of the rough clawed hands around his wrist as he fucked his own hand into himself was almost too much. Finally when he thought his brain was going to leak out of his ears, his hand was pulled back and released.

Then a blunt object was pushing against him and he saw stars. “Slow, oh my god, a little slower, baby.”

The name didn’t seem to phase him at all, but he got a soft noise and the cold hands held onto his hips as he pressed forward.

“Want it hard, but just- ah, once it’s in. God you’re big. Is that, like, a monster thing? Or just you?”

The cocky laugh he received didn’t exactly answer the question, but then he was pressing further in and he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He wrapped his own sweaty hand around his leaking cock, whining and crying out as Steve fucked him hard yet holding him so gently with his clawed hands. As he got closer to coming, he leaned his head back onto Steve’s shoulder. He came spectacularly just as he bit into his neck.

When he could breathe and see again, jumping into his jeans, he found the walkie still shoved into his pocket. With a simpering look at demo!Steve sitting naked against their well-used tree, he pushed down the button.

“Hey, uh, Henderson. I f-found Steve. But, well, he’s a lot different now. Over.”

Title from Waiting in the Garden - Noon Shift

#stmonstermay #demo!steve #demogorgon Steve Harrington #steddie #stranger things smut #mine #monsterfucking #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic

[yangbbokari]

Skz As Toxic Cheating Men

Pairing: OT8/skz x fem!reader A.N.: Don't ask this just randomly came to mind

CHAN - Who'll make you believe that he's so kind-hearted but will do an entire 180 when he gets you where he wants you - Who'll victim blame all the time - "But, Baby... If you would have loved me more I wouldn't seek for it in other people." - Who'll coax you into forgiving him, which you do, and the cycle begins

MINHO - Who won't hesitate cheating on you from the start - You could be the other woman and wouldn't know - Who begs for you back and you forgive him each and every single time - Who your family doesn't approve of but they don't even know what's good for you, right? - (Or at least that's what Min told you) - Who makes sure you don't find out about the fling he's having with one of your friends right now - "Don't worry about her, baby. You're all I want."

CHANGBIN - Who is the most manipulative type - Who won't allow you to meet other people and you must be with him all the time - Who doesn't allow you to have any social media when you guys begin dating - Who always has your phone and limits your usage of it - Who claims its for your own safety because after all he has these muscles for a reason - Who will disappear after you fall asleep to hook up with a random girl - Who you'll wake up beside in the morning with kiss marks on his shirts collar but you choose to ignore it like you always do - "Why are you staring baby?"

HYUNJIN - Who breaks it to you softly just to do it again - Who promises you he's a changed man but we all know that's a lie(except you) - Who likes to string you along like a puppet - Who secretly deletes all the chats between you and any male relation because he can definitely cheat but you can't - Who tells you he does it for fun and will come back to you at the end of the day anyways - "I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this. It's not even that serious."

JISUNG - Who makes an entire scene when you confront him about it - Who refuses to admit to his adultery - Who in the end turns the entire situation on you - Who will purposefully send you explicit things that’s going on between him and his fling just to get you riled up - Who denies that that’s him in the video - Who basically tells you that you no longer satisfy him so it’s only fair that he finds it elsewhere - “I would never cheat and you know it. If I did then it must be because of you.”

FELIX - Who does it discreetly - Who tells his entire friend group and about the other woman and then “accidentally” sends you a text - Who proceeds to say the text wasn’t meant for you - Who gets violent when you ask him about it later on - Who slaps you across the face when he catches you searching his phone - Who threatens you he’ll break-up with you if you continue with your “nonsense” - “Why can’t you just trust me!? Never touch my phone again!”

SEUNGMIN - Who begins cheating and gets wary about you - Who will constantly cheat even in your own house - Who brings random girls at night when you’re working the night-shift - Who tells you it’s not him when your friend sends a picture of him kissing a girl at a bar - Who then begins questioning you - Who asks you if you’re the one cheating because cheaters are always worried about their partners cheating when deep down he knows he’s talking about himself - Who gets jealous when he sees you talking to a coworker - Who deletes all your male contacts and blocks them on your socials too - Who thinks you’re cheating on him too because it’s only right for you to be doing that or he wouldn’t be doing it to you - “I bet you’re fucking cheating on me! We all know you’re a fucking slut anyways!”

JEONGIN - Who claims that he just didn’t know it was wrong - Who uses his puppy eyes and says that he truly didn’t mean to - Who says it was the woman who seduced him and he’d never do that to you - Who claims he’ll never do it again - Who’s cheating on you the week after that - Who smiles at is phone like a teenager and says that its his sister when you ask - Who knows he’s caught in a lie when he says so since he only has brothers - Who begins crying hysterically and claiming that it’s just because he’s been so lonely when you’re gone - Who plays victim until you fall into his trap again - “But you love me, don’t you, noona? If you really love me you’ll forgive me, right?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A.N.: Y’all notice how each member’s got longer. Yeah I got a little carried away

#skz #skz angst #Straykids #straykids scenarios #bang chan #lee minho #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #straykids angst #Straykids angst #Stray kids angst #mumu writes #yangbbokari

[gifti3]

i think a good yandere needs to at least be a little pathetic

#thinking about nonsense again this morning #like what makes a yandere excellent at their job you know LMAO #also im like comparing “yandere's” made by people from different countries in my mind #i feel like u need to remove the shame from ur body if u wanna make a top tier yandere #not shaming anyone cause ik i would have problems doing it #like a part of my brain is always like...but that bad #so it ruins any attempts #u always feel like u need to rehabilitate them #i dont think that necessarily ruins it tbh cause ive seen it done well before #but....that person will be going to jail #“jessica he killed 5 people you cant stay with him sorry” #either that or they need to leave cause they cant stay here you know? #idk if im making sense #also i think u need to be honest about the type of character ur making #like if u wanna make a yandere #do it with ur chest and tell people how its gonna be #so people who hate that shit wont get attached to said character and get upset that theyre toxic #well i mean it can still happen with warnings but u know #itll be less of an issue #i think being honest will also prevent u from being kinda wishy washy with it if that makes sense #U GOTTA DO IT WITH CONFIDENCE AND NO SHAME #or its gonna flop #its like trying to write smut with shame....

[starzwithapen]

I need to go to bed but I'm thinking too hard about how Viva's behaviour as leader to the putt putt trolls contrasts w Poppy's as queen in trolls world tour

#can anyone seemy vision #im thinking really hard about Viva and her role as leader actually #like okay #neither of them attempted to deconstruct the fear their people felt [of bergens or of rock trolls] #instead Viva reaffirmed it while Poppy threw it away entirely #Viva's paranoia fed into theirs and in turn fed into hers which had them stuck in this loop #while the pop troll's paranoia fed into Poppy's stubborness #GOD im thinking about Viva and the putt putt trolls so hard rn #because like . they dont question her word #she walks in with a BUNCH of them and they close the door on CLAY . no questions asked #she says “we try not to use that word around here” in an attempt to make it about them and not herself #to make it about protecting them . about keeping them safe . not about keeping them here #idk like . poppy having pop village be burnt to cinders while viva has the golf course frozen in the past . are you guys seeing it #am i speaking nonsense . it is almost 5 in the morning . silver bonking me on the head rn #in the head #? #ok enough tags im gonnahit the tag limit again #starztalks

[jyuanka]

lowkey funniest thing about the zodiacs is that ‘being an advisor to one of the most important people in the world’ is just their side hustle.

#its early morning and i am once again thinking about the nonsensical worldbuilding of hxh #hxh

[a-s-levynn]

thank fuck i live in a large city because with the breakdown i had this morning, i would not have been able to make my grocery run. shout out to the delivery lady who was the first person today who was actually kind to me with her words. yes today is shit.

#i'm not prone to these kinds of breakdowns since ages but fuck i'm glad it happend on my off day #for half the morning i didn't even knew where is was #the other half was the crying and suboptimal coping mechanisms #by morning i mean since 5am until almost noon #i have no idea how i would have survived in my workplace #yes i wrote a longer post about it and yes i have not posted it #it's not really important per usual #but at least i can function for the moment.. at least it seems #what the fuck is going on in my brain #levynn tries to think #levynn cries about nonsense #i woke up at 4 and tried to pass the time with gaming but it didn't last long.. #and now my playtime is bloated with few extra hours of doing jackshit #but at least i feel okay again #i hope #i'm gonna avoid talking to people with spoken words for the day because it really did not went well so far #but otherwise everything is fucking peachy

[spade-club]

:/ fighting with my partner atm. We rarely ever do and if we are fighting its over this very thing. I got real close to breaking up with them. Its so hard to weigh how I feel and what I should do here. I just want to take a nap. I'm so tired. But I'm at work and when I get home we have to finish talking. I just want to sleep before thinking about all this any more. That last half hour of my shift energy boost better fucking be enough. It never feels like it will be but I always get everything done somehow.

#-Cass #fighting about me asserting my boundaries again #eventually they became more coherent & kind but FUCK man. #every time I say -hey I didnt want to experience this- they go at me with the I'll die without you dont leave me #but I put my fucking foot down on all of that shit. just kept saying stop doing that until they communicated with me properly. #& it worked eventually #I feel okay about where we left off but I still dont know what to do from here #I cant keep giving them chances but I can tell they're getting better #which is really the problem at the center of it all #their best isnt good enough and I hate to ever tell someone that #but fuck man. its my autonomy we're fucking with here. I think I deserve a say! #I just know that breaking up with them is complicated. and I dont want to do it if I don't have a plan. #and I dont want to do that if they really will stop hurting me #but it just keeps happening. #and I keep trying to tell myself its not that bad. I keep almost telling them its not that bad. but I know how bad it is!! #its sobbing on the drive home & sad playlists & relapses & keeping bad company just to have something they cant touch #& crying next to them in bed after they fall asleep & not being able to move at all for 20 minutes this morning #because I was so fucking startled by the situation & didnt know what to do #honestly getting in the way of work with this was what pushed me over the edge tbh. my job is important to me. #not to mention they are unemployed again! so I'm The Income of the household #whatever. whatever. its all nonsense at this point. making myself a second coffee and doing dishes now bye #i will be removing this post later but it stays up for now in hopes someone has something comforting or helpful to add #+ so I can feel heard I guess? bleh

[loving-delusions]

remembering my dreams down to the smallest details is fuckin weird

one dream would have me seeing a whole ass fantasy setting with plot and leaves me in a cliffhanger. and i could still recall it to this day

and the next time i get a dream, i see someone irl in a fucking coffin, remembering who the attendees are, and what picture and the pic frame they had used for her on the coffin and the white lilies in a circle standing next to it.

like???

okay????

shit got me knocking on wood, jfc

#rambles #they never really felt nonsensical tbh #my dreams i mean #like if i wasn't very aware that im in a dream. i swer i could've believed it was irl with how normal everything looks #even in those 'fantasy' dream settings i had #i only had one dream where the person has a blank face. well not rlly but still #it's like the sun is glaring right at their features and their dress and i couldn't see much #<- and the reason why im using 'they/them' for this is bc i dont think that's just some person #because i don't think a random faceless dream-person would fucking pop up behind me in ethereal lighting telling me to wake up— #—in an echo-y voice #got me waking up at 4am #this whole shit about dreams makes me wanna pick up my tarot cards again jfc #also i always wake up in the morning before some unexperienced visitor would come to our house lmao #like id wake up at 6am randomly. and then the next few minutes id hear someone coming up to our gate #<- idk I just think this one is a neat ability of mine :3 #anyways bye #ty for reading this rant hdgdghebf

[slvttyplum]

some may wonder how toji got such a huge buff body, and he would answer the same as other people who are built like that and just smirk and say that he went to the gym, but one thing he never did was specify what kind of gym because the gym he went to was at home, and boy, did you work him out.

"fuck, slow down." while bucking his hips into you and your arms wrapped around his neck while you pushed into him, one hitting you could say is that he had great stamina, and that's what made this all the more fun. this position hit all the right spots just like you wanted it to, this was your favorite workout along with his.

now, toji wasn't completely lying when he said he worked out because he did, but he didn't specify what kind of workouts he really did and that the person asking would need a gym partner who would be good with getting fucked for two hours straight. if he wasn't breaking a sweat while fucking you, then he knew that he had to go harder. 

this wasn't an excuse to fuck you because you were on his ass like white rice about his little "workouts," because to him it was like a workout; it was a challenge to see how far and long he could go when fucking you, and toji was never one to stray away from a challenge, let alone fucking you. why not combine two of his favorite things together to make something even more amazing, and you weren't complaining at all, not when he was fucking you so good your hair was sweating out.

he wouldn't even wait until the both of you got out of the shower; he would fuck you right then and there, and after a few hours, he would hop back into the shower. this was definitely breaking the record for how long he would work out regularly, but it was worth it whenever he looked you in the face with his dick deep inside of you, about to shoot another load.

"you think we can go for five?" a smirk on his face as he lays on the bed with sweat dripping down his rock-hard abs and your body covered with his cum, he already knew the answer. luckily for the both of you, after all the fucking, the both of you built up enough stamina to keep going into the early morning if you really wanted to.

he could sell courses on how to get his physique if he really wanted to, but he didn't want to give up his secret—the secret of having you on his dick every morning until the afternoon and sweat combining together along with his cum leaking out of you and on your face. it was too good to sell. 

some might think that this is total nonsense and that this is just an excuse for the both of you to fuck each other out of your minds, but it was actually true. he didn't have to do much work since he was already in shape, but in order to keep it, he had to fuck you and fuck you good. there was no lazy fucking in the household; if he was going to fuck you, he wasn't going to stop until you were slumped over or crying. 

good for him, though; you matched his freak. 

grinding your hips into him while he helped all your weight up and pushed his hips into you and grabbed your hips, pushing you into him even more, your walls clenching around him tightly from how deep he was going. fucking over and over again was better than any other workout, and he knew that. that's why he decided to retire from the gym down the street and start attending the at home one.

there was no card to get in, no monthly fees, just horniess and his beautiful partner to help with his rounds and sets.

he couldn't ask for a better workout partner.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #zenin toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you #toji zenin #fushiguro #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader

[rileyslibrary]

You’ve just moved in with Simon. Great.

There’s one slight problem, though: Due to the nature of his work, the guy interprets everything as an order. And executes accordingly.

———————————————————————

You sit on the kitchen’s table, enjoying breakfast together, when you notice the full trash bin.

“The trash needs to be taken out,” you casually mention, not giving it too much thought.

But, to your surprise, Simon shoots up from his chair like a coiled spring, leaving his half-eaten food behind. “Roger that,” he responds and jogs towards the trash bin, leaving you baffled.

“Simon?”

He stops and turns to look at you.

“Hm?”

“You don’t have to do it right now.”

“When do you want it done?” he asks, waiting for your next command.

“Wh-whenever you can,” you reply, uncertain how else to phrase it.

“I can do it now,” Simon declares and proceeds to the trash bin.

“Babe, we’re eating.” You say and point at the semi-eaten food on the kitchen table.

He looks at the food, then back at you. He shrugs.

“No,” you state, “Come sit down and finish your breakfast first.”

He nods as if Price just gave him the objectives for his next mission and jogs to the table to resume his breakfast.

He’s always like this. Last week, you found a cockroach running in the bathroom, and you screamed so loud that he almost kicked the door. When he asked you what you wanted him to do, your first instinct was a very loud and clear “KILL IT!” without thinking about your statement’s repercussions. He chased it around, murmuring stuff like “Target’s on the move” and other nonsense until he trapped the cockroach in a corner. He stepped on it once and twisted his foot. The cockroach was dead. Gone. Kaput. But he wanted to do it again, to “confirm the kill.” When you told him there was no need since the cockroach was already a pulp and left you all to a better place, he refused and ordered an “evac” of the bathroom to “do it properly.” And when you asked if “properly” meant an AK-47 and camo apparel, he thought about it long and hard before agreeing that further escalation would be unnecessary.

Be it his ingrained behaviour as a soldier to execute orders, deeply rooted within his system, or his fear not to let you down, he was finding it difficult to leave his work duties at the door. He always carried them inside—in the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. He acted like Ghost, not Simon. Everything was a matter of order to him, and there was no time for relaxation.

But it doesn’t have to be like this; you want him to know that. He doesn’t have to be so rigid at home. He can relax and take a step back from his institutionalised habits.

To prove your point, you decide to give him another instruction, this time more indirectly.

You glance at the sink; some pans are picking out from making breakfast this morning.

“Oh boy,” you moan, trying to pull off an act, “we have to clean the dishes at some point.”

He raises his head to look at the kitchen sink, then sides-eyes you.

“Any particular time you want that done?” He asks, ironically.

“I said ‘at some point’, Simon,” you snap, “there’s no urgency.”

“You also said we ‘have’ to do it,” he snaps back. “‘Have to’ has some sort of urgency in it, doesn’t it?”

You chuckle, impressed by his attention to detail. “You’re right, but it’s more of a general statement,” you reply. “We can do it whenever it’s convenient.”

Simon processes your words and nods.

You stare at him while he eats, and you feel a tug at your heart, urging you to address the underlying issue on your mind. You take a deep breath, searching for the right words to express your feelings without offending him. You reach out and touch his arm to grab his attention. He turns to face you.

“You’re so dedicated to what you do; it’s one of the things I love about you,” you begin, “but our home should be a place where we can both unwind and be ourselves without feeling like we’re constantly on a mission.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” he asks.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, wanting to explain them in a way that resonates with him.

“Well, when you jump to fulfil every request or task like it’s an order, it sometimes feels like we’re always on duty,” you explain gently. “I want us to create a more relaxed atmosphere here, where we can enjoy each other’s company and take things at a slower pace.”

He thinks about it for a while.

“Am I doing that?” He asks.

You slowly nod with a gentle smile.

“Affirmative,” he replies, “I’ll try to take it down a notch.”

“No ‘roger’, no ‘affirmative’, nothing like that is needed here,” you explain.

“Is ‘alright’ alright?” He asks.

“Yes,” you smile, “alright is alright.”

He finishes his breakfast and puts his dish in the sink.

“So,” he says, pointing one hand at the dirty dishes and the other at the bin. “Is there any particular order in which you want these two to be done?”

You smile. “No, babe; you take out the trash, and I’ll do the dishes.”

“Underst-alright, alright.” He corrects himself and walks to the garbage. He ties up the bag’s strings and picks up the bin. He spots you looking at him.

“Am I doing something wrong?” He hesitates.

“Why are you taking the entire bin with you?”

He keeps looking at you and places the bin on the floor.

“Just in case the bag’s ripped,” he explains, “I don’t want to spill garbage juice on the floor.”

“Oh.”

“Should I take the bag only?” He asks and begins to remove it from the bin.

“No… that’s pretty smart, actually.”

He raises his eyebrows and points a thumb at himself.

“Yes, Simon,” you nod and smile, “you’re pretty smart and considerate. I’ll carry out the same procedure while on trash bin duty.”

He puffs up his chest and picks up the bin with the bag in it.

“I’m dedicated, smart and considerate.” You hear him boast to himself as he walks towards the exit, ready to execute his mission.

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod ghost #ghost cod #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost mw2 #ghost cod mw2 #simon ghost riley fic

[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.

Part 2 here.

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

[luveline]

HI PRETTY !!! I'm completely enamored with your pregnant bombshell x reid and I wondering if you'd write a little drabble about the 'S' necklace she has?? like did spence give it to her or did she just surprise him by wearing his initial?

“Kiss,” you demand, pulling him by the hand. 

“Too tired.” 

“Gonna pretend you didn’t just say you’re too tired to kiss your perfect girlfriend,” you mumble, not even having raised your head for said kiss. You’re exhausted too, but not too tired for him. “Please? If you want to.” 

“Too tired,” he says again, slouching across the bed to put his head on your pillow. 

Spencer kisses you and sets all your nerves on fire, though it’s not the first time. It’s not the hundredth time. It’s not even a proper kiss, he’s just pressing his lips to yours as his arm wraps around your waist in a fuzzy-feeling hug. 

“Love you,” he says, “sorry if I fall asleep on you.” 

“No, don’t,” you whisper. 

“I can’t stay awake.” 

You caress his cheek. “I have something I want you to look at, first, please.” 

“Weird mole?” 

“I’m never weird. Look, you’ll like it, I think.” 

You’ve been trying to show him since he got home, but he’d ricocheted between dinner and dishes and the shower, and you’d fallen into bed together having nearly forgotten. “What is it?” he asks finally, interest piqued. He kisses you quickly. “You know I like your face.” 

“I’m not showing you my face, baby, it’s this.” 

You pull the necklace hanging from your neck out of your sleep shirt, the little pendant twisting in circles. You press your pinky behind it and hold it at an angle for his viewing pleasure.

“See?” 

“Is that an ‘S’?” he asks. “For me?” 

“Who else, babe?” 

You put it down on your chest. He watches it rise and fall, his hand sliding up your stomach, resting over your diaphragm. “Where’d you get that?” 

“Do you like it?” 

He turns your face to his. “I love you,” he says softly, leaning in, the tip of his nose pressing to the side of yours. “You don’t have to wear that.” 

“I want to wear it, Spencer, that’s why I bought it. Gimme a good kiss. I deserve it.” 

He laughs but manages a good, albeit sluggish kiss. “You really are tired, aren’t you?” you ask, curling around him protectively, his hair silken between your fingers as you scratch his scalp. 

“No, let’s stay up forever,” he says. 

His hand snakes between you. He pinches the ‘S’ between two fingers, even with his eyes closed and his face sinking into the pillow next to you. 

“I’ll get one for you,” he says. 

“That’s okay. I just wanted to feel like you’re with me when you’re not.” 

“M’always with you.” He gets a second wind, if only for a few seconds, kiss kiss kissing the skin below your ear, his voice like warmed honey. “All the time. You can’t get rid of me, I’m like shingles, or chronic hives.” 

“How romantic.” You make sure the blanket is up over his shoulders and give him a last goodnight kiss. “Love you.” 

Spencer will make a much bigger deal of the necklace in the morning when he remembers what you’ve bought and why, but tonight he mumbles nonsense praise into your cheek and falls asleep with his hand on your collar. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[xxsabitoxx]

Baby Me

Satoru x Fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff and nothing else.

A/N: too much is going on in the Gojo realm, both in the anime currently and the manga, so let’s take a minute to forget and ease the pain with some soft Toru~

Word count: 1.2k

His body is aching, every atom that makes up his being is begging for sleep. But that won’t stop Satoru from showering, not wanting to dirty your shared bed with his sweat. Or even worse, wake you up cause he smells of sweat and blood. So, Satoru drags his half-awake body through your shared apartment, stumbling into the bathroom unceremoniously and turning on the hot water. He was swaying on his feet by the time he got his ruined uniform off and into the hamper, eyes barely open as he stepped into the steam filled shower. 

Satoru wasn’t even sure how long he had stood under the current, blood and dirt running off of his body in rivets. It stuck out harshly against the white tiles of the shower floor, not that he could really care at that moment. He’d just feel bad if you had to clean it up in the morning. It wasn’t until someone’s presence entered the bathroom that Satoru snapped out of his daze just a bit. He would have noticed them sooner, but his guard was always down when it came to you. “Toru? Why didn’t you wake me up?” You mumble softly, shedding your clothing with the intention of getting in with him. 

“It’s nearly three in the morning, baby. You need your sleep.” Groggy and full of exhaustion, it made your heart ache a bit. “Nonsense, let me help you clean up.” Satoru smiled a bit, grimacing as even that proved to be a bit of a tiring task. “You’re too kind to me.” But you merely hushed him, stepping under the hot water and reaching for a loofa and his favourite soap. “I love you, Toru. There is no such thing as being too kind with you.” You dumped a generous amount of soap into the white loofa before sticking it under the water again. “Now let me wash you.” 

There were things far more intimate than sex, Satoru didn’t realize that until he started dating you. Moments like this, for example, where you so tenderly scrubbed his skin clean of every impurity he had. Standing naked together under the hot water, in the early hours of the morning, as if you were the only two people on earth. Satoru craved these moments just as much as he craved you. “None of this blood is your own.” You laughed softly, placing a kiss on his spine now it was clean. “I’d hope.” Was all he could muster, nearly falling asleep where he stood because your touch was so tender.

You laughed softly before placing another kiss, trailing them down his spine until you reached the base. Satoru shivered at the feeling, your hand holding his hip as you told him to turn around. He did as you asked, giving you a lazy smile as you began to scrub the front of his body with the loofa. “I’ll shampoo your hair next.” He simply nodded, eyes shutting as he let the hot water run down his back. You were careful as you moved, alternating pressure depending on what part of him you were scrubbing. You knew he was rather ticklish so you’d be more careful when scrubbing his abdomen. But you also knew he enjoyed the way the loofa felt on his sore arms when you scrubbed a little harder. 

Satoru could go on for hours about how he didn’t think he deserved this treatment. He couldn’t even begin to understand how he had gotten so lucky, fighting curses all night just to come home to his beautiful girlfriend would be enough. And yet, you pull yourself out of bed regardless of the hour and shower with him. You scrub his body until he is clean, wash his hair until his shoulders go slack from the feeling, dry him off with a fluffy towel and shower him in kisses. 

He wasn’t sure what he had done in a past life to get this lucky, but he thanked the stars every night for giving you to him. 

“You’re going to fall asleep while standing.” You set the loofa down, all finished after scrubbing his body clean. All Satoru did was hum in response, bending down to press his forehead into your shoulder. “Let me scrub your hair and then we can dry off and go to bed, my big, strong boy.” You teased as his arms wrapped around your middle, hugging you tight. “Toru~ let me wash your hair and we’ll be done.” He only hugged you tighter, with a sigh, you reached around him the best you could to grab his shampoo bottle. Still, he didn’t let go. 

You squeezed some of the contents on top of his head, laughing as he whined about it being cold before you started to massage the contents in. You smiled a little harder when he moved his head from your shoulder to nuzzle into your neck instead. At his height, you couldn’t understand how the position was even comfortable. Still, you scrubbed until his hair was full of sudsy bubbles. “Time to rinse.” You cooed softly, as if he was a small child. Reluctantly, Satoru straightened. With eyes still closed, he leaned back and rinsed his head. 

You took that time to quickly wash yourself, thankful you had put your hair up before getting in with him. “M’kay bub, time to get out.” His eyes opened a bit for that, nose scrunching at the use of “bub”, you found it cute. Within seconds the water was turned off and the steam began to subside, both of you stepping into the lights Satoru now deemed to be “too bright”. You babied him, wrapping him in a warm towel while you used another to ruffle his hair dry. Satoru gave a half hearted attempt to wrap you in a towel as well, but the man had begun to sway on his feet yet again, eyes fully closed as you dragged him out of the bathroom. 

“C’mon, lover boy, let’s get you dressed.” You giggled, watching his nose scrunch again but his eyes didn’t open. Satoru moved past you, dropping the towel and flopping onto the mattress. His groan of relief nearly shook the whole apartment. “Alright, clothes are a morning problem.” You concluded for him, dropping your own towel to crawl into bed beside him. You barely adjusted on the mattress before Satoru was moving to wrap you in a tight bear hug. “Cuddle me.” was all he said before promptly passing out, leaving you a bit surprised when his infinity didn’t immediately push you away.

“Huh… that's new.” 

Then again, you weren’t used to Satoru falling asleep before you. Perhaps he had learned of a way to keep it off while he slept, or maybe he had figured out a way to have it encompass both of you. Regardless, you couldn’t be bothered to dwell on the matter. You were quickly remembering that it was past three in the morning, your exhaustion was creeping up on you quickly. Now that Satoru was home and safe in your bed, you could sleep much easier. You moved the best you could in his embrace, throwing your leg over his hip and resting a hand on his side before giving up on getting any more wiggle room. “Night, Toru~” you sigh, melting into his arms. 

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