#Check pester version

[iidilio]

𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶;; 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦

[ 🌸 ] uchiha version

characters: itachi uchiha; obito uchiha; madara uchiha; sasuke uchiha; shisui uchiha

genre: fluff

warnings: none, fem!reader

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itachi uchiha

*cute boy *against all odds, his interest in you did not begin at the academy. *actually, you and him weren't even in the same class, lmao- it all started on a mission. *he didn't even turn to look at you when the hokage told him that you would be on his team lie, he did- he even turned to look at you twice

*things got a little crazy in the mission, and suddenly your team was surrounded by enemy ninjas. Quickly, four of your group members were injured, and itachi was starting to wear out. He had really forgotten about you

*and it is just at that moment that you manage to reach him after putting your injured companions in a safe place

*my boy let out the air that he had been holding after he realized that you were fine and that he was not alone in this, haha

*after the fight and reaching Konoha successfully, and after checking that the injured were okay and giving the report to the hokage he approached you

A quiet, yet soft voice spoke to you from behind you, "… I wanted to thank you for earlier"

*you smiled tenderly at his grateful words, assuring him that there was nothing to be thankful for

*obviously, you weren't aware of the little jump that Itachi's heart gave when he saw your pretty smile.

*the poor kid froze before mentally beating himself up to compose himself.

*just as you were leaving, he stopped you

“…would you like to go out some day?”

"huh?"

*although several months have passed, he will never admit his attraction to you, at least not for now.

*but you can rest easy… It won't take that long until Shisui or his mother encourage him to court you when they realize that he is feeling things for his pretty teammate.

"What's wrong? Is the whiz boy afraid of a pretty girl?" //proceeds to poke him in succession with his finger// “huh? huh? huh-?”

“Shisui… you have 5 seconds to run, and two have already passed”

- - -

obito uchiha

*obito swore that he would not fall in love again after what happened with rin *but it happens that nothing goes as he wants *especially after you walked through that door of the akatsuki hideout with your stupid and pretty smile *he found himself looking for you after that meeting under the pretext that he didn't trust you for being the new girl lying boy, he just wanted to see your smile *on the other hand you were beginning to feel harassed by the awkward boy with the orange mask *your partner and his friend-rival realized that

"but senpaaaaaaaaai-"

"tobi stop pestering!"

"but tobi just want to see how the new girl is doing!"

"i swear to God and everything beautiful in this world-!"

"…can I turn him into a puppet?"

"guys…"

*they pretend that they are not interested if something happens to you, or that tobi does something to you they are a couple of liars

*but you can be sure of something- obito will never tell you who he is

*although if you want something with him, you will have to go for it, girl.

*he won't accept how he feels about you unless you make him see it, lmao

*although he will protect you feverishly even if both of you are not something

*imagine that you are on a mission with Tobi, and suddenly you come across something that could put you in danger

*oh yeah, just ignores tobi's mood swing and strange aura while he deals with the bad guys

*don't worry, he will be your shadow, although you will never know it.

- - -

madara uchiha

*this intimidating man is a joke, pfff- don't look at me like that

*the man is a 10/10 when it comes to talking about politics

*but he's a 0/10 when it comes to confronting you, lmao

*you're not even from his clan to begin with, and his father only taught him to woo women from his clan, not outside women from the uchiha clan tend to expect certain behaviors when expecting to be courted

*anyway

*he started to fall in love when he saw your pretty eyes when you looked directly at him without any fear or shame

*he's not going to lie; it made him nervous

*because since his sharingan woke up, no woman dared to look him in the eye in the same way that you did, oh

*you make his stomach feel light and his mind spin

*and don't make me start with his face, which looks flushed and the fact that it feels very hot

*the man thinks you're some kind of magician or something, lmao

*because, my God, how is this event possible?

*The great madara uchiha in love? What a lie

*anyway

*do you have patience? good, you will need it to wait for the man to gain confidence

*because he may be confident and headstrong when it comes to the battlefield, but he's a cinnamon bun who doesn't know how to pose for the audience when it comes to the dreaded ✨romance✨

“come on, big brother… you can do it!”

"wait…- no izuna!"

"hey Y/N, my brother wants to ask you something!"

"izuna-!"

*God, please help him

- - -

sasuke uchiha

*a disaster

*a complete disaster

*he can handle hate, you know?

*but he can't handle these beautiful emotions and sensations, oww

*make his stomach flutter and his legs shake unnaturally

*he's already a teenager, he thinks… he's too mature for this, he thinks!

*poor guy

*if he only knew

*anyway

*try to avoid you

*like, if you're on his "renamed team every chapter" he'll just ignore your existence

*He won't be rude, though!

*it will be more like a "good morning" in the morning and a "good night" at night, and that's it

*those will be your only interactions 💀

*ah, but don't let him see you in danger, he'll run to where you are without hesitation, pfff

*in the end, everything stops thanks to the intervention of Suigetsu and Jugo who couldn't stand the two of them

*somehow they manage to make sasuke bring up his feelings for you

*so they decide to help him at the end of the day with motivating words

"you just have to talk to her"

//jūgo nods//

"you shouldn't be afraid of her, she won't bite you"

//jūgo nods//

"don't tell me that the great sasuke uchiha is afraid of a girl-"

"…suigetsu shut up"

//jūgo nods again he can't decide who to support//

*in the end, he's just a soft guy who doesn't know what to do at the end of the day

- - -

shisui uchiha

*you were his cousin's classmate, and somehow you managed to be friends with itachi

*and one day he finally met you

*shisui takes everything with humor, you know?

*he is a fun person who likes to enjoy little things

*like, he's the guy who's always in a good mood

*but when you're around him, his mind goes blank

*his funniest jokes suddenly forget, or he doesn't know how to explain them from one moment to another, and suddenly they are not funny anymore, they are embarrassing 💀 even itachi makes a subtle grimace on his stupid stoic face that he charges whenever he opens his mouth to deliver a “joke”

*he doesn't know what to do or how to react

*and for some reason, he stutters a lot when he tries to explain his joke again

*itachi is there luckily to comfort him at the end of the day, but: "no, itachi- don't give me love advice when you haven't even had a girlfriend!"

*somehow he will overcome this historic moment in his life and be able to woo you properly

*when? Uhh… someday, I don't know, I'm not psychic-

"You just have to talk to her-"

“You say that like it's easy, itachi!"

[agneaul]

i can’t sleep so i wrote this

Harsh, white light illuminates your face in the dark. You’re meant to be asleep. If you want to be any version of productive in the morning, you need to go to sleep. You’re exhausted, too tired to even rest. The bed creaking with laughter at every toss and turn, mocking your weariness.

You need to go to sleep.

Instead, your thumb scrolls down your phone screen. Tara certainly posts a lot. You’re careful not to like any of her posts however - she’ll see the timestamp and fret over you in the morning. Best not to worry her, she has enough on her plate.

The sudden vibration of your phone jolts you out of your mindless haze. Blink once, twice. Read the contact. Sylus.

For a split second you consider ignoring him, he’s probably going to pull you into some mess - then again, if he’s calling you this late…he could be in trouble? A deal must have gone wrong, or he’s gotten into a fight with a Wanderer. What if he needs your help?

You answer quickly, speak on an urgent breath. “Are you okay?”

His easy chuckle flows over the line, your shoulders untense. Damn him.

“Worried about me, kitten?”

You huff, easily pull a lie out from under your pillow. “You just woke me up, what do you expect?”

He scoffs, a familiar sound to you at this point. “I expect honesty. you weren’t asleep at all, were you?”

You roll over on your back with a sigh. You force out a dramatic yawn to double down. “How could you know that? My curtains are drawn, Mephisto can’t see in here.”He chuckles openly at this, you both know he’s not above sending his mechanical little spy to check on you.

Metal clicks and clinks over the phone, you have a brief but vivid image of his hands disassembling a revolver. You swallow.

Sylus’s voice is matter-of-fact, he’s knowingly caught you in a lie. “The twins saw that you are ‘currently active’ online.”

Your silence is all the answer he needs.

Again, he laughs.

A surge of irritation forces a groan out of you. You can feel his smug little smile all the way in Linkon.

“Alright, you caught me!” You drape your forearm over your eyes, heave out another sigh. “I can’t sleep, okay? did you call to pester me or tell me a bedtime story?”

The line is quite a moment, except for the weighty, metal thunks - the distinct sound of bullets being loaded into a chamber.

“Would that help you fall asleep?” Sylus’s voice softens around the edges in a way you haven’t heard before. You eye your phone skeptically…You (of course) won’t admit it to him, but the deep timbre of his voice does help you relax.

With a hum, you adjust your pillow, pull the blanket up your chest. “If you insist, i won’t stop you.”

He scoffs at your teasing lilt. All the way in the N109 Zone, he smiles at you.

Sylus clears his throat, and begins telling you a (rather boring) story about a girl who spent most of her days stuck inside a sanctuary.

Before he can get to the ending, you’re already asleep. Sylus listens to your steady, even breaths - his shoulders untense.

You’re fast asleep, so you don’t hear him say, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

[ff-killjam]

How The Tables Turned [Ford x reader oneshot]

Summary: This time, its Ford making you stop what you're going to make sure you get sleep.

Rating: SFW and very fluffy

Warnings: Aside from a slightly suggestive part, none!

AO3 version

A/N: Actually based on a period of time where I tried to learn how to use unity (before the whole drama of it happened). I refused to do ANYTHING but to work on my little project no matter how much I was starving for a few weeks straight. lol.

It’s basically routine at this point for you to drag Ford out of his lab to head for bed. Even if you remind him of the benefits on sleeping and how the lack of it will impact his work, you still needed to get him into bed, sometimes having some food ready for him to make sure he didn’t sleep on an empty stomach.

That’s how its USUALLY IS.

Lately, you’ve started your own personal project involving learning a game engine to play around with. It was mostly just a random idea one day, wanting to try your hand at making your own little “video game”. Nothing too fancy, just something fun to put together and to learn some new skills along the way. There was A LOT you needed to look into and learn to make this happen, however.

From learning a coding language, the game engine itself, a mix between finding free to use assets and even making your own when nothing suited your taste- you had a lot on your plate. It wasn’t all that bad really, considering how this whole thing turned into a full blown hyper fixation fairly soon after starting it. It was easy to let the hours fly by as you were split between watching tutorial videos, drawing and fixing any errors/bugs in any of the codes you wrote down. You were aware of when you needed to sleep, eat and do other things for your health, but something about working on this project made you refuse to move from your chair. And you weren’t the only one to noticed this.

After a decent amount of time being with you, Ford has grown used to the routine of you coming to his lab to check up on him. It got to the point where he purposely stayed late in the lab to get you to come in and “pester” him to take care of himself better. The feeling of knowing you cared and loved him so much to go out of your way to make sure he knew that was something he relished in. Of course, he did felt a little “silly” and “immature” doing this instead of straight up telling you, but there was no harm being done anyways, so it was fine.

So when you stopped checking on him after a few nights, he couldn’t help but to worry a bit. At first, he figured you were just a bit busy, possibly even out for the night, so he didn’t think too much of it. However, when walking into your computer room and seeing you up staring at your screen with an open notebook with various random things written on it, he couldn’t help to smile a bit as you reminded him of his university days. You were just working on something, nothing too bad.

But as time passed by, he soon realizes he only ever sees you in your computer room. You barely went out for anything, even for food. Ford didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but he was worried. Things escalated for him when he barely sees you in bed anymore.

It’s not like he didn’t talk to you as you were deep in your work. He would sometimes check in on you when things felt a little too quite after he started to noticed your absent in his lab. Ford was happy you were able to pursue something new and to take the time and effort to do it. He was aware of the little game you wanted to make for the sake of saying “I made this!”. When he had the free time, he’ll listen to you talk about the things you learned, some of the issues you faced and how you fixed them, etc etc. But he can only take so much before he had to really step in for your own sake.

The sky was dark out, and it was around 1am. You weren’t in bed yet. Again. Ford was really concerned for you now. Walking through the dim hallway, he opens up the door of your computer room. He can see you fully concentrated on your screen, looking over some codes you put together, as if you were trying to find any errors in the lines of text that was presented in front of you. It was obvious how dry your eyes were, how your body longed for rest, but the urge to keep going and to fix this one mistake kept you from wanting to sleep despite how much you felt the need to do so.

It was almost funny to him. A taste of his own medicine some would say. It reminds him of the many nights on how he too would refuse to stop for the night, always needing to do one more thing before he could let himself rest. How you would do your best to persuade him to let himself walk away from his work, to take care of himself to avoid any health complications, and to spend time with you in the comfort of your bed.

It made him feel guilty as well. The things you did for him and how much you loved him to always go out of your way to show it. Ford knew he was taking full advantage of that, and he wanted to repay it back.

You jumped a little in your seat when you felt his familiar six finger hand land on your shoulder, being so focused on the lines of text on your screen that you forgot where you were for a good bit. You look over at Ford as he stood beside your seat, giving him a weak smile.

“Oh hey! Do you need anything?” You asked before quickly looking back at the screen again.

“Love, when was the last time you ate?” Ford asked you in a gentle voice.

“Uh… I had breakfast?” You answered, only remembering you had some toast with a sunny side egg on top when you last ate. It didn’t seem like it mattered too much though.

“Its almost one am” Ford replied, a little stern this time. You quickly check the clock on your taskbar, feeling surprised from how much time had passed.

“Oh… oops” you spoke mostly to yourself, feeling a little silly for not checking the time more often. “I’ll probably head to bed soon”

“Not soon,” Ford points out, “you’re going to bed now.” His words made you look at him again, confusion viable on your face.

“Just let me do this one fix-” Ford says your name, stern voice again, causing you to stop your sentence.

“You are fully aware of the effects of not taking care of yourself” Ford spoke to you with a smirk on his face. You knew that he was referencing the many of times where you brought out the facts of how the lack of sleep and self care can affect your health and day to day life. It was the best way to convince him to come to bed and let you cuddle with him until you were both asleep. “You’re no different form me, sweetheart. Got to practice what they preach, as they say”

“Uh…. I’m built different?” You gave a half shrug and a low chuckle at your own joke. Obviously, this did nothing to change his mind. You knew he was right, and had nothing to say to argue back. Ford knew this too. “Fine… let me quickly save and shut off my computer��”

Ford watches you quickly save any progress before shutting off your computer, the light of the screen turning off and making the room dark as it was the only thing on. As you start to stand, your body fully conveyed how tired you really were. You were about to walk to the hallway door before Ford lets out a ‘let me’, and you were now being picked up bridle style in his arms. You let out a small gasp, often forgetting how much muscle the older man has as he often hides it away in his iconic turtleneck. The comfort of him holding you made the realization at your own exhaustion hit hard. You can feel yourself somewhat go limp as Ford carried you to your shared room.

Ford felt you quickly relax in his arms, feeling prideful as he carried you to your bed. Sitting you on the side and pulling the blanket back. He lays you on your pillow before fallowing suit into his usual spot on the bed beside you. Your eyes were shut as you let yourself sink into the soft mattress, the weight of the blanket being pulled over you giving a sense of security, along with how his arms wrapped around you to pull you close to his chest. You let out a sigh of relief as you feel him nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, getting a few shivers down your spine.

“Sorry…” You mumbled to him, feeling guilty now for making him go out of his way to get you to bed. You feel him chuckle into your skin, the smile forming on his face being easily felt on your skin.

“Nothing to be sorry about sweetheart,” his replied, voice audibly sounding more tired, “I should be the one to apologize, making you go through this almost every night. I see how doing this almost all the time can be a bit frustrating for you.”

“Not if its you,” You were quickly to reply, “I’m always happy to make sure you’re okay”. Ford felt his heart flutter at your words. You always did surprised him with how much you loved him despite how many times you pointed it out.

“The feeling is mutual,” Ford placed a kiss on your skin as he caressed one of his thumbs that rested on you, “lets get to sleep now, I’ll be sure to do something for you in the morning” Ford gave another kiss on your skin, and you can’t help but to feel excited for what he had planned.

Silence followed as you two let yourselves slowly fall asleep in each others comfort. Feeling his steady heartbeat on your back lulled you to your sleep.

Ford smiled when he realized you fell asleep before he did. It was no surprise, you needed it really bad. Without fail every night when he has you in his arms like this, he feels like the luckiest man in the multiverse. He didn’t deserve you, but it was almost as if this is the repayment he deserved after many years of suffering, a way of life saying sorry to him.

And he wouldn’t ask for anything else.

[twstowo]

Oyo, um I read one of your fics and it was rlly good. I'm pretty sure it was one of the 'they end up another universe twst' fics. They're rlly juicy BTW

I was thinking like...what happened if otherverse bois met normalverse yuu and they actually start liking them? Sorta yandere-ish type stuff to the point where they don't wanna leave normalverse yuu? (Yes, I've been calling normal yuu 'normalverse' yuu bc it makes a bit of sense lmao)

Understandable if you're a bit uncomfy with this :)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

♡︎This is quite an interesting idea! I had though about it once but since you asked now I'm really going to write it! Also I'm not the best with yandere themes so I hope this is good enough!

♡︎Includes: OB! Characters

♡︎Warning: Malleus's part made me kinda sad, IM SO SORRY MALLEUS LOVERS. Also all of them need therapy.

[AU Masterlist]

NV - Normalverse (Thank you for the idea Anon!)

First things first, in general, I believe that they would understand that you aren’t the same person from their Universe, however, this wouldn’t excuse the fact that every time they see your face they are thrown back to your relationship back in their world, which to say the least is not the best.

⋆⋅☆Riddle

There would be no doubt that he would dislike you intensely. Moreover, the fact that this Riddle would be even worse than the pre-overblot Riddle in the NV would put you in a difficult position.

The first time he spots you, he would be blinded by rage and probably try to behead you. Fortunately, Trey and Cater quickly save you, taking you as far away as possible from Tyrant Riddle.

He will do anything to find you, and he will have no tolerance for your actions. At the slightest inconvenience you cause, he will be right behind you, ready to tell you how much of an annoyance you are.

But you catch on to his game pretty quickly, so you counter him by being the very definition of perfection. You make sure not to break a single rule and set an example for everyone around you, and by the Sevens, that only makes him even angrier.

But is he really angry? He can’t deny that he feels slightly impressed. Among everyone else at this strange college, you are the only one who comes close to reaching the level of perfection he demands.

Slowly, he finds himself growing fonder of you. He starts thinking about bringing you back with him once he finds a way to return to his universe. You’d fit perfectly in the castle with him, and he’s certain his mother would have approved of you.

⋆⋅☆Leona

When it comes to Leona, he is more annoyed with the NV version of you than anything else. After all, you were always pestering him about being lazy and irresponsible. He had been plotting to have you exiled once he took the throne by killing his brother.

So, the first time he spots you, he's ready to turn around and leave, not wanting to hear your nagging. But that doesn’t happen. You speak to him as if he were a normal person, with no harsh words, and even smile at him when you finish talking.

Is he seeing things? Why are you so different in this universe? And why is he enjoying this new kind of attention so much?

Yet, he remains rude, constantly sending glares your way. He firmly believes you're trying to trick him into something malicious.

Still, you bring him lunch and talk about your day. You are strangely kind, something he never thought he would experience, especially from you. You are the first person ever to treat him like this.

Slowly, something starts to shift inside him. Your attention becomes something he craves, and he starts becoming obsessed, to the point where he checks if you give the same treatment to others.

And if you do, he makes sure they are out of the picture the next time you look for them. He will ensure that you have only him to turn to, to talk about your day, and to give your full attention.

⋆⋅☆Azul

OH NO! He’s had enough of your antics ruining his business! Azul puts up a sign with your face and a red cross over it in front of the Monster Lounge. YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED IN!

Floyd and Jade find this absolutely hilarious and watch as you stroll into the Monster Lounge without a care in the world. (You’re literally that meme: "This sign won’t stop me, because I can’t read.") They don’t even try to stop you, they’re far too entertained by the thought of seeing how this new Azul will react to the chaos.

Let’s just say that Azul quickly learns the hard way that you aren’t here to ruin his business. Instead, you seem determined to ruin his reputation by being overly affectionate and making him squirm with your sweet words in front of all his clients, no less.

He tries to distance himself, avoiding your gaze and setting boundaries, but you keep coming back. In that, you remind him of the version of you from his own universe.

And for some reason, he finds that persistence very attractive. He can’t deny that, before you decided to ruin his business, he used to have a slight crush on you back then.

But now, you aren’t trying to ruin his business. Quite the contrary, you’re a magnet for attention, constantly drawing more customers to the Mostro Lounge.

Slowly, Azul starts losing himself in this fantasy: you and him, together, expanding his business. But at a certain point, he realizes he’s thinking more about you than the money the two of you could make.

He becomes determined to keep you by his side, even if his business suffers because of it. If all it takes to have you is tarnishing a bit of his reputation, then he’s willing to do it.

⋆⋅☆Jamil

By the Seven, he was already annoyed that Kalim was here, but you too? This was about to be the worst day of his life, two incredibly annoying people threatening to ruin his plans.

He keeps his distance, but when you spot him, he’s about to tell you to go find someone else to bother. Then, you say something completely unexpected: you’re actually annoyed by Kalim’s antics.

You? Annoyed? At Kalim?

He’s taken aback. In his universe, you and Kalim were inseparable friends, always together. But the you from this place is actually bothered by him? He doesn’t even need to know why you’re annoyed. Just the fact that someone finally agrees with him about Kalim makes him incredibly happy.

He enjoys it when you come to him with your frustrations. Whether you’re irritated by Kalim’s constant gifts or his endless parties in your honor, because you feel overwhelmed, Jamil is always there to listen. He savors your complaints, and he’s quick to add his own criticisms about Kalim, which only deepens your dislike for him.

As time goes on, you start finding comfort in Jamil’s presence. His understanding and validation make him seem like a refuge from the chaos that Kalim brings. You begin to rely on him more, and Jamil can’t help but enjoy how your dislike for Kalim boosts his own ego.

Jamil starts subtly shaping your view of Kalim. By reinforcing your negative feelings and positioning himself as your only true ally, he ensures that you depend on him more. He carefully creates situations where he appears better compared to Kalim, making himself seem like the perfect match for you.

Jamil feeds off your growing dislike for Kalim. Your negative feelings towards Kalim seem to boost his ego, and he finds himself loving your voice even more.

You deserve someone who truly understands you, and Jamil believes he’s that person. He’s confident that he’d be the perfect match for you.

⋆⋅☆Vil

There you are, Neige’s number one fan. He doesn’t even look in your direction, you aren’t worth it. Shouldn’t you be with him, guarding him like the lapdog you are?

Vil has to admit that at least you seem more elegant here. You look more relaxed and gentle, but maybe you were always like that back then. Perhaps he was just too focused on Neige to notice you.

Or maybe this version of you from this universe is simply sweeter and kinder. Perhaps here, you don’t make Neige your whole identity and actually treat Vil like a person rather than just competition for Neige.

Vil is intrigued, he finds you interesting, even. There’s a charm to you that brings him comfort. When he learns that you’re not that close to Neige here, he finds himself feeling pleased. And when you tell him that you find him “oh so much more beautiful,” he realizes that you might not be so bad after all.

Then he becomes attentive to your habits, your likes and dislikes, he memorizes every time you express any small detail about yourself only to use these as a way to create more opportunities to be closer to you. He brings up things you’ve mentioned in passing, showing how attentive he is to your likes and dislikes. His compliments become more personal, always tied to something he knows you value.

He loves especially when you talk so sweetly about him, or when he overhears you telling others how beautiful you think he is.

So whenever you mention Neige in a good way he becomes jealous, you should be exclusively devoted to him, he should be the only thing that crosses your mind and he was to make sure you only see him as your number one option.

He’s determined to make you see him as your everything, and he’ll stop at nothing to ensure that you’re his, completely and utterly.

⋆⋅☆Idia

(In here both Idia and Ortho from the AU get sent to the NV.)

Ah yes, the ruiner of fun, you.

Back in his world, he used to send his followers to pester you, hoping you'd leave him alone. But no matter what, you always managed to bounce back and ruin his mischievous plans. What was with you, always messing with the fun? If a person or two died, who would even care?

But this version of you seems so much more into the chaos. He watches as you join in Ace's dumb ideas or get excited when Ortho prepares to blast off half the school.

You actually seem like someone who would join in his schemes now, and he'd love to have some help.

Howver the idea of you laughing, scheming, or enjoying yourself with anyone else starts to eat away at him. He starts sabotaging your interactions with others, asking for Ortho’s help to keep Ace busy with other things, making sure you spend more time with him.

He starts sending Ortho on missions to monitor your every move, always keeping tabs on who you’re with and what you’re doing. If anyone tries to get too close to you, they mysteriously vanish from the scene, often without you even noticing.

Everything feels so perfect when the two of you are together, you don’t need anyone else just like he doesn’t need anyone else.

⋆⋅☆Malleus

Poor Malleus had been treated badly by his crush back in his universe. You never answered the letters he sent, and he had heard that all the little trinkets and flowers were returned because you didn’t want any of them.

So when this version of you from this strange new place treats him with such devotion, such kindness, and accepts his small gifts, even inviting him to spend time with you, he can hardly believe what’s happening.

This was essentially a dream come true for him. He wonders if it had been you he sent all those letters to, whether you would have written him back with the same excitement.

Why, then, hadn’t this lovely and perfect version of you been the one in his universe? Why was he the one left unloved in his world?

He wants to take you with him. Surely, you love him, you wouldn’t be angry if he took you back to his castle. The two of you could finally do all the things he had dreamed about while gazing lovingly at the flowers he once sent you.

After all, why else would you shower him with such kindness? Why else would you invite him to spend time with you? You must love him too.

[bugs1nmybrain]

Shigaraki With a Girlfriend Headcanons

Warnings: fem reader as title suggests, sex, dub-con/non-con, shigaraki isn't healthy, fluffy if you can get past the darkish content, domestic abuse themes, misogynistic Tomura, anal mention, a lot of headcanons, typos but i don't have time to fix them right now

18+ Minors Don't Interact

Mellows out more, especially if he's around you and you alone

When Shigaraki has you around others he can get a bit cocky. He likes showing off his cute little girlfriend and how he's got such a cutie absolutely obsessed with him

When it's only you and him he's kind of domestic, surprisingly. You'll find him often coming up to cuddle you or touch you somehow and drag you to play games with him. Or more accurately you watch him game while he kisses and bites your neck

He likes doing cheesy couple things you'll come to find, such as going for walks, movies, out to eat, or just cuddle in bed for a while

That said, he's actually very cuddly once he's sure he can control touching you. If you're immune to his quirk, he'll still doubt it for a while and will touch you as if he's touching a hot stove. Once he knows you won't crumble, you won't be able to get him off of you

And if you aren't immune, those gloves that the doctor gave him as a child will make a comeback

He sort of doesn't even believe he has a GIRLFRIEND?!?! Makes him cackle and giggle sometimes

You can draw those cackles out by kissing his face and letting him touch you however he wants

He's horny so very horny

He's never had someone touch him so lovingly. He loves it. He loves that you love him.

As codependent as it is, you're pretty much the only thing he loves. That, and video games. And yes, he respects and appreciates his comrades. But love, as in genuinely caring for someone and wanting to see them happy? Only you

His temper is short and it's easy to piss him off but he sort of teaches himself a "count to 10" thing for you. He doesn't actually want to hurt you or your feelings. Though he'll admit, seeing your eyes water when he does something bad makes that sick, evil part of him smile

He can get carried away during sex. He's actually very eager to please you and make you beg for him. It wouldn't be fun if you didn't crave his cock, right?

He oversteps boundaries sometimes and will be very pushy. You'll have to speak up, but even then he might banter with you, "come onnn..but you're so pretty thoughhh~"

After the fact he'll pull you into snuggle and sleep with him. He considers that his act of redemption.

In case it didn't dawn on you, he's evil

He's able to be down to earth with you too and will open up about things he'd never tell others with you. He trusts you

His mommy issues may get taken out on you sometimes, and not even just in the sexy way. He can get very pouty and bratty with you or even just needy for attention.

He loves you sooo much. I've said that, but for real. His version of love is sick and maybe it's better to say that he's obsessed with you. He wants you all the time, and wants you to be his and his ONLY.

That said, he's the boyfriend who goes through phones. He paid attention when you put in your password while he was around you. He'll look through your messages to make sure there's no guys or funny people. He'll turn on location features while you're unaware so he can check on your location when he's not with you.

He'll look through your porn history too but he most likely won't be mad at anything he sees. It'll just make him horny and he'll pester you with questions. "Hehe you're into that?!" "Would it make you ooey gooey if I did that to you?" "Nasty whore hehehe."

Will take pictures of you without your permission, lewd or just innocent. He misses you when you're away and likes to look at them.

He doesn't show them to people except that one time he did let Dabi see a filthy video he took once while you and him were fucking. Dabi questioned his sexual abilities, so naturally he had to prove him wrong.

If anyone disrespected you the only person who could stop him is you, to be honest. He won't tolerate it and will absolutely hurt someone in your honor.

If anyone tried to take advantage of you or hurt you, bye bye

Doubts himself a lot and makes you feel guilty for it. He'll pester you. Is he good enough for you? Do you not love him? Is he ugly? Is his dick too small? He's too crazy for you right? Too bad? Too damaged? There's no way you love him, you lying bitch!

He's kind of misogynistic. Mansplains. Complains about how women accuse men of shit that "they don't do" and then does said things

Period specific hc: didn't take your period cramps seriously at first because he couldn't fathom how they were that bad. He thought you were being dramatic. It only took him taking you around his buddies and you absolutely dying in pain the entire time. He actually felt bad.

Sometimes he'll even give you the princess treatment. Spoil you with kisses, cuddles, and games. He'll bring some snacks too. Maybe pull you into the shower if he's smelly that day.

Boobies guy. But also loves butts. Actually, he can't pick. Because he loves sucking on titties but also likes putting his dick up your ass (when you let him lol). He loves your body so much, but he's not THAT shallow. It's the fact that it's YOUR body on YOU, attached to your cute facial expressions, and your cute lil heart.

Sex with him varies. It can be pretty sexy and sensual, actually. You'd be surprised how much Tomura just wants some genuine love and affection. But it can also very easily be rough and animalistic

All that hate and rage inside Tomura gets taken out on your wet pussy. You'll be sore. He'll say sorry and buy you a coffee later to atone for his sins.

If you want him to brush his teeth, you have to take him with you. If you treat it as a ☆bonding time☆between you and him, he'll do it. Otherwise, Tomura doesn't even remember most of the time. His breath smells. It's bad sometimes. When he flosses once every 6 months there's a pool of blood in the sink. Probably has gum disease.

Collects figures! And he'll never demand that you buy him things but if you did he'd be super embarrassed, but also grateful. He'll probably just hide his face and mutter a little.."thank yew". But the fact that you care about him like that makes his heart HURT

These love feelings confuse him because he fucking HATES how tight his chest feels and how heavy his bones and foggy his head is when he finds himself adoring you so damn much. He also adoressss you. You're his one and only and his only reason for ever doing anything generous to anybody. If he wasn't so fucking stubborn you'd probably be enough to "save" him

[justahoax34]

Been watching Calvin’s from the fog videos and now I’m obsessed with Minecraft again.

My Lore for herobrine/players:

Ok so my version of players is that they are basically shapeshifters from the void. All the tiny white dots in the void are player stars (the brain) they command their surroundings void to either consume other weaker stars or the End island to create more void.

Physical Players started being allowed on the surface when the God, Creation (Mojang) found potential use with the void stars, that being helping them create new shit for the world ( Modding ). Now this is where herobrine come in, just before the Piglin war Creation decided to put their experiment into motion by pulling out one of the void stars (herobrine) without any accompanying void and as a defense mechanism it shut itself off. Creation spend months try to find a way to reactivate the star or communicate with it but after 4 month with nothing they decided to let the other gods, Knowledge, Foresight and Action to try their luck with it. Unfortunately before they could get any real work done with it the Piglin war started and they had to turn their attention to preparing the ancient hero for the upcoming battle.

At the end of the war right before the Gods returned to the Well of Fate, Action, who still had the dormant star on their person, drop it into the Overworld without realizing, leaving it for one of the ancient hero’s to find. That hero being Steve, one of the first three hero’s to be summoned by the Gods, he was a scientist and researcher of the slow forming civilization of ancient Builders while his older brother Brian and his daughter Alex were warriors, a ‘real’ hero they’d call it but we won’t get into that.

Anyway Steve found the fallen star and since it was the Gods who left it behind he assumed it was a gift, so he took that star deep underground to a newly constructed city/laboratory (the soon to be deep dark). Down there Steve had a team of 7 main researchers to help work on the mysterious star. 3 cleric villagers, 2 witches and 2 members of the newly made mob, Illagers. During their research, tension grew between the villager and Illagers, it got to the point where every Illager and villager interaction ended in an argument. One of these arguments however happened in the testing chambers where the star was held and currently getting a close contact check up by Steve. It started when one young villager, Issac Larmon kept pestering another young Illager named Esmith Hensworth, about her peoples interest with ‘concerning’ new methods of magic. Their petty disagreement quickly turned into a full fledged debate when other villagers/illagers researchers working on golem creation nearby decided to put their two cents in and pick sides.

Steve needing to keep his focus on the star, it being incredibly fragile, wasn’t able to defuse the situation leaving the tension and negativity to rise in the room tricking the star into think it was back in the void therefore reactivating itself while still being held by Steve. The star began to do what it usually would if it were in the void and that is to ‘make more void’ by drain the life from Steve’s had and replace it it with this tar like substance. ( the exp from Steve’s hand floating within it) This caused Steve to immediately let go of the star let it fall and crack a few shards off, this flip a switch in the star now realizing that it is in fact not in the void and is in desperate need of a shell now that it’s hurt, so it buries itself into Steve’s chest and unfortunately for for the both of them Steve’s human body was not made to hold something of the void along with the fact that it was such a sudden transfer that not only did it completely burn out Steve’s insides and light coming out his eyes/mouth it also cause an explosion and right before that explosion happened Steve turn to see his brother Brian coming down to see what all the commotion was all about. That being the last person he saw before he died and the only thing the star grab from Steve’s died conscious was his brother’s name: The hero Brian aka Herobrine.

[ravixen]

heyy! may i ask for vocal term ver of svt meeting your friends? 👉🏼👈🏼 (btw i am the same anon who asked for the performance team ver of it hehe)

svt + meeting your friends (pt 3)

➔ requested || reaction || vocal unit

➔ warnings: none || 0.8k words ➔ notes: fluff ; heya! i hope you liked the performance unit version of it; it was fun to write, so i hope other people love it, too. here's the vocal team version of the same prompt. please reblog if you enjoyed! i love reading all of the comments. thank you for sending in my last request!! :)

JEONGHAN: he was just going to drop you off and head home, but your friends needed someone for their pick up basketball game—just until the last person of your friend group got out of traffic—and they heard that he's pretty athletic. "just a little," he allows, stretching his limbs. he doesn't have to stay, but he doesn't have much else to do at home and this is the perfect chance to make a good impression on your friends. everyone goes around quickly introducing themselves in a circle, and that's all the team-bonding they get before finding positions on the court. for the first game, you and jeonghan are on opposite teams, so he takes it easy, jogging around and making simple plays to get a feel for his team's rhythm. it's so laid back that it annoys you, the one who knows what he's capable of. respect you and your team enough to put in effort? he gives you a cocky grin. sure. when his team huddles during the break, he tells them his plan and your best friend whistles lowly. "I mean...they did ask for it," they say with a shrug. the second game immediately puts him on his team's good side and your team's bad side. maybe he'll make a better impression off the court.

JOSHUA: posted in part 1!

JIHOON: they know that he's famous, but man, are all celebrities this effortlessly cool or is it just him? he's not doing anything in particular, and in fact, he's quite friendly; he made sure to shake everyone's hand with both of his when they introduced themselves, and he said that he's lee jihoon, as if your friends haven't seen his name plastered on billboards across the city. he doesn't talk too much about himself, preferring to sit in the background, but the way his simple t-shirt stretches around his shoulders, the way his pushed back sunglasses act as a headband for messy black hair, the way he puts his arm on the back of your chair and leans in to share a menu...hot, humble, and sweet with an unmistakable aura. you really snagged a good one. and when you ask for the check only to find out that jihoon's already paid for the table? you whirl around and level him with a look, but one of your friends, the one across the table from you, laughs. "dude, I thought you looked suspicious on the way to the bathroom. did you even go?" hot, humble, sweet, rich, and generous. they'll keep an eye out next time to prevent him from paying in the future, though.

SEOKMIN: it takes him a long time to meet your friends, and they're getting antsy. but no matter how much they pester you about seeing the golden retriever boyfriend himself in real life, even jokingly accusing you of hiding him from the world, you can't do anything because he's refusing to meet your friends. it's the reason he gives for not guesting on lee mujin's show...he doesn't feel like he's good enough, and there's so much to unpack in that simple admission. that's why the first meeting inside a newly opened bakery and cafe is entirely accidental. you see the nervousness in his posture as soon as they recognize you and wave. then they turn their gaze to him, and he reaches for your hand, clasping it tightly to his side. "hey guys," you say, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "this is seokmin." there's something in the glint in your eyes that reminds them to play nice. luckily, this is the icebreaker needed to get him comfortable with a planned second meeting that goes so much better. he doesn't wander from your side, but he fully participates in the conversation, and your friends conclude that you're right. they do need sunglasses to look at his mega-watt smile.

SEUNGKWAN: he's professor boo of kpop for a reason; he's got room in his pretty head for all sorts of niche information, so of course, he's been filing away facts about your friends over time. when he actually meets them, he ends up bringing the perfect gift. "oh wow," your friend says, gaping at the bag he handed over. "I've actually been eying this for a while but didn't tell anyone! how did you know?" he shrugs as he kicks off his shoes at the door. "it just seemed like it would suit you," he says easily. the world can't sing his praises enough. there's a reason why so many people love him and invite him everywhere. he uses the information he's collected to perfectly navigate conversations: what topics make people light up and lean forward in interest? what topics should he avoid to prevent awkward silences? deep down, he feels like he has to make a good impression because you chose him and he wants to prove to everyone that he deserves you, even though no one is thinking that in the slightest. (in your eyes, it's him that deserves more than the world can give him.)

[cas-backwards-tie]

Wonderstruck

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Ex!Reader

Summary: Simon Riley finally takes it upon himself to check up on his childhood best friend and ex lover. He's been torturing himself reminiscing on your relationship and what went wrong for years now. Little does he know... you're in the same boat. Having seen someone today you swore was Simon on your way to work, you too, reflect on the past.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Stalking(?),

Mentions of: Drinking, Smoking, Motorcycle Riding

A/N: I don't know why but I constantly am getting inspired by certain songs, or am reminded of certain characters, and all the lyrics were just screaming childhood best friends to estranged lovers, right person wrong time Simon Riley. Nevertheless, if you'd love to listen to some versions of the song which inspired me, here we are! Line divider credit: @saradika-graphics and I'd also love to thank @penelopepine for helping me with the ending <3

He knew it was a bad idea as soon as it'd crossed his mind, yet somehow he couldn't rid himself of it time and time again. That's how he found himself here; watching you cross the street, he can't help but notice the vintage band t-shirt you have on, frayed at the edges with the little strings of the hem coming undone that you've refused to cut off. In you hands you clutch a new phone, no doubt an upgrade from the last one he'd seen you with- though it's been a while.

As you mindlessly tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he can't help the way his insides churn. You were always effortlessly beautiful; you never had to try for anything. Even now, the way you can walk across the busy cobblestone side streets of London in high heels without seemingly second-guessing yourself, body language still poised on guard and ready in case anyone tries anything, just like he'd taught you.

It's clear from your outfit and the lipstick you’re donning that you're attempting to sway the officials at work. Maybe trying for that promotion you’d always been talking about, but never had the gumption to make today the day. What’s different about today, he wonders. You'd always been a go-getter, and truthfully, it was something Simon admired about you. Even in the moments where he'd resented it the most, the constant pestering and prodding at him in an attempt to get him to move and drag him out of the holes his dug himself into...

Where would he be now if only he listened?

What if you knew better?

He couldn't deny that the thoughts kept him up at night while he was away. Though, admittedly, more often than not it was the string of random memories that he’d get glimpses of during the day. It’d always be at the worst times, too. Two weeks ago in Berlin he’d been clapping Kyle on the back, hoping he’ll get it together as he stumbled out the pub. While Soap had the camaraderie to slug half his mate’s weight over his broad shoulders, Simon found himself unable to help as his eyes were drawn in by a couple a few paces down the block.

“Bollocks!” He’d shouted out in frustration. Double-checking himself, he didn’t have a spare cap on him, and he knew he sure as hell didn’t bring an umbrella on your little last minute ‘trip’. Not that he’d really call walking down to the local Tesco for snacks late one summer evening a trip. ‘It’ll be an adventure! Just think of it like that.’ You’d persuaded him.

“What? Are you going to melt?” He hears you joke. As his brown eyes land on your face when you turn to meet his gaze, a few steps ahead of him down the road, he can’t help the smile that breaks out across his lips upon your laughter. Sure, you may both be a little drunk after spending the evening in and having a drink or two. But it doesn’t change the way he feels about you, if anything, it makes him even more keenly aware of the way you affect him.

“Maybe. Who knows?” He teases in responses, tugging his jacket up and over his head to shield himself from the cool summer rain. Despite the time, now he’ll most likely need a shower when you get home. As he jogs to catch up and bring you under his little makeshift cocoon, you do the unexpected.

It was you, of course… he should’ve known better, always testing him, pushing him. With a gentle drop of the plastic bag full of snacks upon the side of the road you’d been strolling down, he watches as you run into the empty street. The streetlights illuminate you in a hazy orangey-yellow light as you begin to spin and twirl, dancing in the street.

With a shake of his head, he’s left stunned once again by the vast difference of your personalities. Your jeans and t-shirt are starting to get damp and discolored, and there’s a taunting, displeased remark sitting on his tongue just waiting to be made. It’s the utter joyous smile on your face as you tip your head back and relinquish yourself to your fate that leaves him wonderstruck, he thinks.

“Come on, Simon!” You beckon, finally meeting his gaze once again with that familiar carefree, hopeful look behind your irises. With an outstretched hand, he knows he can’t deny you this… and really, there’s something inside him that tells him he doesn’t want to, either.

“It’s her, innit?” He hears his Captain’s voice call over his shoulder. Pulled from his memories, Simon dismisses Price with a nonchalant grunt. As the old man tries to place a hand on his shoulder he dodges it, realizing he’s been watching the couple for longer than he’d thought. With Soap and Gaz almost to the end of the block, Simon sighs before shrugging his shoulders to right his jacket and head off in their direction for backup.

That was a time when your playfulness been more easily taken and accepted without question. No fighting, no push back, resentments… maybe that was it: he’d stopped going with the flow. He’d stopped accepting the punches and started dodging and weaving your advances at fixing things and picking up where he left you. Because while it’s too late now, he’s finally realized it for what it is: he left you in the dark, he’s the one who pushed you away, closed himself off.

That night he’d curled up in the temporary bed he’d been assigned, more memories continued to consume him. The way you’d effortlessly ease his worries on nights he’d come home stressed, feathers ruffled from whatever petty drama went on during the day. Whether it was something the guys said that stuck with him, or something he couldn’t get out of his mind when he came back from deployment. Your kisses always seemed to be the cure, your love… or maybe it was just… you.

“You know furrowing your brows like that will cause wrinkles,” you inform him, reaching out to run gentle fingers over his bunched skin.

A grunt of acknowledgment leaves his lips. “More for me to worry about, hm?” While it’s all he says, his eyes are searching over your composure.

“No,” it leaves your lips without thought, “just something to think about, be mindful of. If you’re not upset, then why furrow them?” Voice quiet in the moonlit apartment, your fingers smooth out his brows gently as you admire him. “I read something the other day about how it’s possible our body informs our mental state. If you’re tensing all the time, it won’t help your stress, Si.”

He simply hums in response, doing nothing to stop you as you ghost your lips over his for a moment before planting a loving chaste kiss to his. While big and wide warm hands find the exposed bit of skin between the hem of your sleeping pants and the shirt you wear, it’s the unexpected cool sensation that elicits a muffled gasp. Your much smaller hands are sneaking up underneath his sweatshirt to explore his abdomen, caressing him like he were made of soft silk. Your lips meet again for a chaste kiss.

Then it’s turning into something more; you have to take it slow, your lips dancing against one another, his hand rubbing your back to let you know it’s alright. As you begin to run out of breath, it’s only when you pull away, lashes fluttering against his skin that you ask him. “You know I’d love you even with wrinkles, right?”

Taken aback, he can’t help but stare. Unsure how to respond or what to do, his lips part in search of words. “Is that so?” He finally questions, hand giving your side a soft squeeze.

“My favorite boy… I love you to the moon and back… scars and all. I always have, and I always will, Simon,” you whisper, ghosting his lips again before planting one on him, “I just hope you know that.”

And at the time, he swore he did. It’s odd, really, and he wouldn’t lie to himself about it either. Simon tried dating after you, he tried hooking up, he tried it all… but it never felt right. As many times as he replays the memory, he can never get past the feeling of home. With you, it felt like home. You never made him feel expendable, or worry of the abandonment he knew would inevitably come.

For years afterward he blamed you, he saw it as your fault that you left, you abandoned him… when, maybe, really it’s finally time he admits it was him. He made it a self-fulfilling prophecy, and there was nothing you could do.

It's on your way home from work that you see them; while waiting for the bus, there's a playground in the park a few meters away. Really, the idea that human nature is predictable is always laughable at first, but only after watching people and stepping back to become an observer you've noticed from time to time that... it's more than true. Even from a distance, the children in the park look happy... but that's not what catches your eye. There's a blonde boy, and a girl, much like yourself when you were younger, playing what you can only assume is something halfway between hide and seek and tag, considering the playground offers more space and obstacles than hiding spots.

Perhaps it's the joyous looks on their little faces, or the way they unabashedly play, carefree and unaware of the adult worries and burdens the world hangs above their heads, just waiting any day to drop upon their shoulders unexpectedly. However, you can't help but reminisce on the ways you'd spent your childhood playing games much like the one the children are playing in the distance with a boy, very similar to the one before you, loving life, content, happy, simply aspiring to be the best at finding your ultimate hiding spot.

The soft squeak of the wheels coming to a halt before you and the mechanical release of air as the doors open brings your attention back to the present. Before you know it, you're on the bus, unconsciously taking a seat along the windows, hoping, just maybe you'll catch a glimpse of them as the bus drives down the road down its route. Though as you pass, the sun is beginning to set in the distance, the children departing the playground their separate ways as dusk begins to take its toll and curfew sets in place. The whole time you'd been focused on yourself, it's entirely possible that your own boy wound up beating you at your own game, finding the best spot and hiding himself away from the rest of the world.

Maybe it's the fact that you could've sworn you'd seen someone that looked almost identical to Simon on your way to work this morning, but memories continue to plague your mind for the first time in months. All the weekends he'd spent over at your house doing aimlessly silly things to fill your time, from science projects, to playing 'warrior' outside, you never felt more alive than the time you two spent together.

"I'll keep ya safe, yeah? Nothin' to worry about," Simon insists, gently guiding you to the side of the vehicle. Despite going out with your friends to the city for dinner, you both were sober. It should be fine, it would be. You'd been with him a million times... how different could it be? He'd run it by you as many times as you'd asked.

You swear it's not a good idea, but you trust him to the ends of the Earth. With a look over your shoulder, his brown eyes are steady, not uncertain in his unwavering gaze as he nods in assurance. Swinging a leg over the seat, you're in front this time. Helmets in place, hands on the clutch and brakes, you make eye contact with Simon once more before he flicks both your visors down. "Ready?" You ask him.

"More than ready, Love," he quips. With a quick shove to the kickstand, balance (with Simon's help of course), and a rev of the engine, you start the motorcycle off slowly. Gloved hands around your waist, he gives you a gentle squeeze.

He was always pushing you out of your comfort zone, that one. It was the first time you'd driven his motorcycle, and while it'd been scary and daunting for the first fifteen minutes, you eventually got used to it and it blossomed into something freeing. You understood then why he likes it, and you'd never been more grateful for someone pushing you out of your bubble. While flashes of all the kisses, caresses, and intimate moments between the two of you start to effervesce, you force yourself to remember the last time you'd seen him.

With a lingering hug, you're hesitant to let him go. Even if you know it's necessary, it's still hard... it always has been. "You'll let me know when you get in, right?" You ask, searching his eyes. They stand out from the black warpaint, his uniform always made him look handsome, even if you couldn't imagine how intimidating seeing his actual attire would be in his enemies position.

A dismissive and irritated grunt meets your ears as he shrugs your hands off. He'd packed quickly, something he's been doing more recently; taking more and more jobs, you've begun worrying for his health, not that he'd talk about it, of course. "If I 'ave time."

While you weren't able to get all the details on this excursion, you did manage to get that it was essentially a 'clean-up' for him. He had to go in and make sure that the hostages they'd had a lead on were all rescued and no one was left behind, no assailants or informants lingering or hiding. You've known that his job is hard on him. Losing people can't be easy, especially when you feel like you could've done things differently and changed the ending to their stories. Yet, you also know that throwing yourself into work the way he's been doing without talking to anyone, simply managing to pass debrief counseling by whatever meter their measuring is... not working. Not anymore, at least.

"You're running from this! You won't even answ-" you shout, gesticulating as you do everything in your power to keep the anger and worry that's tightly wound wrapped up in your gut under control, not to let anymore of it seep out than already has.

"An' you're one to talk?! You don't get to interrogate me," he argues, rounding the couch to get closer. The dark circles under his eyes scream volumes, even if he's unwilling to acknowledge whatever's going on for him. "I deal with that enough in my line o' work. Don't-"

"Simon," you say, tone holding that familiar warning tone.

You'd gotten home safely and were able to change and make something to eat. The feelings haven't left the cavity of your chest, still lingering there, the way he always does. He may be 'Ghost' on the field, yet he still haunts your memories, always making you question whether or not you did the right thing. What if only you'd done more? What if you hadn't pushed him so much? It wasn't always in a bad way, either, in fact, most of the time you'd find yourself chuckling randomly at some inside joke only the two of you share, or something he'd find funny. The stolen sweaters and hoodies you know for a fact long ago washed away his scent. Even if you swear sometimes that you can smell the faint odor of cigarettes he used to smoke. In the city when you're out with the girls you'd find yourself fondly inhaling the smell whenever a stranger would be smoking one nearby.

You'd cursed him: Simon Riley. Yet, the aching inside you he left often made you feel like he there's some sense of closure he never fully gave you. The SAS would tell you that he'd get your letters, even if you stopped writing years ago a little while after the split. You never got a response, and you never really expected one. Simon never really was one for letter writing. It was the only way you felt like you could get that closure, that part of your life done with. Ultimately, it did help you move on in some way.

A sigh tumbles past your lips as you change the channel on the television, unsure what you really feel like watching. A reality comedy show is on, something of a local prank show. It wasn't the best show, really, but it's one you used to watch a lot as a kid, and thus, another reminder of him. This one makes you smile, nonetheless. It's a good memory; nostalgia envelopes you in the way that makes you crave times that felt easier. Just when you wrap yourself in your fuzzy blanket, there's a soft rapt at the door.

Heart accelerating, eyes widening slightly, you slowly rise from the couch. The television volume isn't on loud, and while there may be light coming from it to inform a stranger you're home, that isn't enough to say that you're alone. With slow and cautious steps, you approach the door, careful to check the window near the door from a vantage point you're unseen. It's a man in a black hoodie. Panic sets in and you turn to skillfully head back toward the couch in search of your phone with quiet and quick steps. That's when it strikes you.

With all pretenses abandoned, you rush to the door and fling it open, lips parted in shock and awe. "Simon?" Searching and attempting to scan the partially shielded face, you're able to see tufts of blonde hair lit from the porch light.

"I know you've no reason to-" he starts, hands removing themselves from his hoodie's pocket, "but please let me come in and explain."

"You came back," you whisper. It's more for yourself than him, and whether it's out of bewilderment, intuitive knowing, or a premonition; you were right.

As he takes a step forward and reaches out for you with shaky hands produced from the familiar black pocket of his hoodie, you don't retract. Slow and tentative movements on both ends, he grabs ahold of one hand, thumb consciously skirting back and forth repeatedly in a form of grounding and seeking comfort. "You were right," his deep voice rasps.

Your hand cautiously seeks his cheek beneath the shield of his hood. Fully expecting to meet the spandex material of his balaclava, you're surprised by the warmth of his skin underneath your gentle touch. Wrist pushing against the cotton hood, it gives way, revealing his face. Searching his deep brown eyes for any sign he's genuine... you're met with truth.

With a weak nod you turn, leaving the door to shut softly behind the two of you.

~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So I've seen a lot of 'Hop actively dislikes and distrusts Steve', 'Hop tolerates Steve because he's useful during UD shenanigans but doesn't like him', and the big swing to 'Hop has adopted Steve as his own and treats him the same/almost the same as he does El'

BUT, I present:

Hop pseudo adopts Steve because when he and Owens were trying to get the Harringtons to make any decisions about their teenager who saw some sketchy shit and may need government testing they legally gave Hop the rights to act in loco parentis and he takes that seriously because he doesn't want another Will Byers and he's pretty sure the Harrington kid has a concussion.

Hop who stays involved just enough in Steve's life season 1-3 that we the audience see Steve is getting attached. But Hop just sees an annoying kid who won't leave him alone when he's trying to deal with a rebellious psychic and her insane little friends and keeps asking stupid questions about highschool romance and teenage rivalry drama. Knows Joyce Byers doesn't like the kid but won't give a lot of reason why but he's mostly learned to trust that woman's judgement about people. Still gets him the job at Scoops when the kid's dad makes a stink about college and tells him if he survives a few months there he'll consider bringing him on the force, makes sense to keep him close and in a position to help should shit hit the fan again.

Hop who doesn't get it when Steve is one of the most relieved when he 'comes back to life' after Joyce and Murray bring him back from Russia. When Steve introduces him as "My Hop," (something he'd taken to calling him just before season 2 shenanigans) to his sarcastic, fidgety little friend like it means something. The girl, Robin, looks between the two of them and gets this sad look on her face for a second before smiling and shaking his hand and saying something about "Dingus has told me all about you".

Hop who complains to Murray one of the times The Party and assorted teens and adults are over at his renovated and expanded cabin (courtesy of Owens and shady government organizations recognizing these people are worth investing in, heavily if omens are to be believed) when the bald annoyance asks about what's up on there. Complains about having annoying teenagers who have nothing better to do but pester him legally put under his supervision cause their parents can't be assed to care and are spoiled little shits who are slightly more bearable versions of said parents cause he can stand toe to toe with one of those monsters they faced and the kids kind of listen to him. Complains about barely being able to breathe cause of regular visits and check-ins like Hop was still responsible for him. Says at least the extra hands are useful around the cabin what with the still healing up and El pacing herself after the showdown with Creel and still trying to find Max and the Byers not quite moved back to Hawkins yet.

Hop who doesn't realize that Steve hears every word cause he had gone looking for the older man when he disappeared for more than a few minutes, when he couldn't see him to make sure he was here and safe and alive. Steve who thought Hop actually had come to care for him in his own gruff way and had confessed to Robin that in a lot of ways the way Hop has taken care of him makes him the closest thing to the father figure he's always wanted but never thought he'd get to have. Steve who hears Murray hum and recollect a visit from Nancy and Jonathan where their romance officially started (he vaguely knows about the visit, didn't realize that's what happened, didn't realize she couldn't be bothered to even do the decent/considerate thing before moving on to something better) because it seemed it was a pattern he was seeing 'people liked Steve, but people didn't love Steve'.

Hop who hears a choked sound like someone taking a claw to the gut and turns to see Harrington. Steve Harrington his bandages just peeking out from the collar of his shirt and the opening of his sleeves. (He never did get the stories behind those, too busy being fussed over and being told about the kids and how they were doing as Harrington played babysitter) Steve Harrington a kid who went through hell and still managed to smile and laugh and stand tall and unyielding looking at him with a blank face his eyes misty and his shoulders starting to curl in on himself before he clears his throat, chokes out that he just wanted to make sure Hop was alright but looks like Murray had everything under control. He'd go now, get out of his hair, let him rest, let him breathe. Steve Harrington who walks away with purpose like a man on a mission and doesn't acknowledge the kids calling out asking if he's alright, make sure he has his walkie talkie on him.

Hop, who realizes maybe he left behind two kids who missed (needed) him. Who wonders who took care of Harrington's paperwork when he was concussed and sedated because he was bleeding out and feverish from infection and Hop was busy at the cabin reveling in the comfort and warmth of his daughter and the woman he loved and her two sons who were fast becoming like his own. Hop, who realizes too late that maybe if he'd given the kid half a chance he could have had 3 sons to sit with him and his daughter and the woman he loved as they basked in surviving another end-of-the-world. Hop who has spent years barely giving a damn about Steve Harrington and realizes that he's no better than the kid's own parents.

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4.1

Part 4.2

Part 5

[spookberry]

i know this pic is pretty old and canon may have changed since then but do you have a more hd version of the lineup of the color guardian generations over the years? its from 2022 on your deviantart but dA compressed it! id love to hear about the older teams, like anita's first squad

You mean this thing??

Honestly the other teams aren't super relevant outside of a few characters and I like the idea of leaving it vague enough that there could've been even more guardians embetween the ones here.

But yeah I can tell you a little about everyone!

-Anita was one of if not the first Color Guardians. She was actually very close to her Green specifically. They were Best Friends even before becoming Color Guardians(this leads to conflicts with Rin later because Anita tends to compare the two). Their group wasn't around for very long, no one knew the stakes or how serious everything was back then... That is until one colorless attack that ended with Robin dead and Anita having disappeared with a spark of light. Robin was cheerful and kind. Seeing him die left a bad mark on his teammates that they haven't let go of to this day.

-because of her disappearance Anita was assumed dead too. Both by Layla, the police and even her own family. Octavia showed up on the scene shortly afterwards. She never knew Robin or Anita, but Layla's trauma and the fact that it was just them two for the longest time left a deep impact on Octavia.

-Even after Octavia outgrew her role as Blue, she still worried for the next generation. She made a point to track down the next Blue to as soon as she could in order to teach him everything she knew. She's an adult now and teaches self defense classes to the general public, but also special classes for Guardians specifically. All the Blues have met her, and Chiyo even introduced her to Kimi so Kimi could get better at fighting. Layla wants nothing to do with the newer guardians, so Octavia avoids bringing them up, but the two do check in with one another still.

-The teams are generally organized by which Blue is active, because theres always an active Blue. I labeled him Remi up there but I eventually renamed him Russell, he's the second Blue. Much like Octavia, he spent most his time as part of a Duo, up until she was killed in the line of action. It was only near the end of his career as Blue that Nia and Charun became Colors. Nia met Sue a couple of times and can remember her fondly, but Charun never met her.

-Dimitri is also an interesting character. The only other Pink that anyones aware of, he was an active antagonist for most of his time. He often got in the way on purpose and would sometimes help colorless out just to see what would happen. With the power of friendship and gay tension he eventually turned a new leaf. Though not before Russell hit him with a car(they're married now).

-Marcy and Nia are the most relevant past Guardians to the modern group. Marcy has a tough start as Blue. Everyone on the team had been a Guardian longer than she had and already expected her to fill the leadership role that Russell had. Not to mention the youngest and littlest Guardian Veronica appeared right after Marcy. It was a lot of pressure to say the least. But the four of them developed a pretty intense bond cuz of it. Unfortunately much like the others, Marcy's time as Blue did not end without tragedy. There was a really hard fight once that they almost lost. Charun and Nia got hurt really bad to the point where Charun outright rejected being Green(a painful process) and now hardly speaks to any of them outside of the occasional pesters from Nia. Nia herself was already disabled, but the fight has made it harder to manage. She always knew the physical stress of being Red would have negative impacts on her but she doesnt regret her time as Red nor does she regret any of the choices she made during that time. Marcy broke a leg as well during this which permanently ended her dance career.

-More on Nia actually, she was always the heart of her group, encouraging everyone to keep face no matter what. Even after it all she still continues to push her friends forward and check in with all of them. Her younger sibling, Benny, looks up to her a lot, his Guardian form mimicking hers in many ways.

-The only one who came out unscathed physically was Veronica, though having watched the emotional fall out made her wary of teaming up with any of the Guardians outside of Benny for a while. Benny's a simp too so he follows her lead on everything.

-Marcy's only 20 when she meets Chiyo but immediately takes it upon herself to support and take care of the new team in a mentor-y role. The way Russell did for her and Octavia for Russell. This usually turns into more of an emotional support role than being active on the field. (She's had to talk Chiyo through her crush drama SO many times). Marcy isn't that much older, but when you're 15 but 20 seems pretty mature in comparison. Due to her own angst about what happened to her last group too Marcy tends to put a lot of the pressure of being The Adult for them onto herself. (no anita you dont count as an adult)

-Anita was gone for approximately 15 years mind you, so the teams are pretty spread out with the occasional overlapping member. She hasn't gone to see Layla yet since coming back to the right time. She's scared of all thats changed during her time trapped in the timestream tbh.

[slasherholic]

Synopsis: You had a really rough day and desperately crave Asa’s presence. After pestering him about wanting to spend time with him, he gives in, and—abandoning better judgement—you get a bit too clingy for his taste.

Based on this

Contains: gender neutral reader, themes of an abusive relationship, physical violence, coercion, use of restraints, Asa being a dick

ao3 link

Asa Emory / The Collector x Reader | Can You Hold Me?

It had started with texts—too many, too soon, too needy. You knew it, even while you were sending them. You knew your messages came off as pathetic: little stabs of desperation laced with emojis and false humor, begging for a kind of attention he never gave freely. You told yourself it was harmless, that it didn’t count as real begging if you dressed it up in jokes. But you knew. You knew you were clinging again, like ivy up his spine, and still you kept going. Because you couldn’t not. Because there was no version of today that ended without you seeing him.

You told him you’d had a bad day. That you just wanted to lay on his chest. That you felt like roadkill. You said you’d stop texting if he just said yes. Or no. Either. You just wanted an answer. Just wanted to know if you were allowed to need him. The waiting made your skin feel too tight. The silence between replies stretched long enough to make you check if your phone had frozen. When he finally answered, it wasn’t softness. It was permission carved from annoyance: Fine. 7. Don’t be late.

It was raining. That awful, uninterrupted kind of rain—gray and thin and eternal—seeping into the lining of your coat, soaking your socks, flattening your hair against your forehead until your scalp ached. You hadn’t felt warm in even longer. The cold was an ache that had nestled itself into your spine and lungs. The sky pressed down, low and heavy, and the wind made you feel like your body wasn’t your own, just something to be pushed around.

You trudged along the sidewalk, your arms clutched tightly around yourself, the street slick with puddles reflecting the yellow haze of porch lights. The houses were quiet—too quiet—the kind of quiet that makes your thoughts louder, your loneliness sharper. You passed trimmed hedges, tidy mailboxes, wind chimes that hadn’t moved in hours. And then you saw it.

Residence 859. Asa’s.

Muted yellow paint, tidy porch with the red brick walkway winding up to it like a stitched scar through the rain, all those careful clay pots that lines the edges, half-drowned but standing straight. Curtains drawn back in every window. His place always looked like it was waiting for someone smarter than you. Someone who understood boundaries. Someone who didn’t fall apart in silence between texts.

You were soaked by the time you climbed the steps, your heart thudding like it knew it shouldn’t be here but didn’t know how to stop. You didn’t knock. You opened the door and stepped into the silence.

He was in the kitchen. His back was to you. Rinsing a mug.

You didn’t hesitate.

You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him from behind, pressed yourself into the heat of his back like you belonged there, like the wetness on your coat, your skin, your hair didn’t matter, like maybe if you just held him tightly enough everything else would fall away.

He went still.

“Did I invite you in?”

You blinked, your cheek against his shoulder blade, arms still around him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I just... I missed you.”

“You’re soaked,” he said. Dry. Cold. As if the water were a crime. As if your presence was.

You didn’t let go.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, and again. “I should’ve knocked. I’ll knock next time. I just—please, I had a really bad day. I just wanted to be near you. I can’t think straight when I’m not near you.”

He stepped forward, breaking your grasp. Rinsed the mug again like you hadn’t touched him.

“Can I use the bathroom in peace?”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. Shame and heat flooded your face.

“I didn’t mean to—”

But he was already brushing past you.

Your hand reached out before you could stop it, your fingers catching his wrist. “Asa—”

That was the last thing you managed to say.

His hand clamped around your throat in a flash. No warning. No rise in emotion. Just action.

You couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t cinematic. It wasn’t loud. It was silent, clinical, like a door being shut quiet and efficiently.

Pressure. White noise. Hands to wrist but not to fight—just to stay grounded, to stay attached.

You felt the hair leave you. Eyes stung. Ears rang. Knees gave.

You remember thinking: This is what I get.

And then—

Dark.

Wood against your face. Cold, sticky breath through your parted lips. The sound of keys. Typing.

Click, click, click.

You turned your head. Saw him on the couch. Laptop open. Like nothing had happened.

“You want tea?”

Something inside you cracked.

You sat up slowly, painfully, your voice already burning as you choked out, “You choked me.”

He didn’t look up.

“You didn’t even warn me. You just—didn’t even look at me.”

He closed the laptop.

“I told you all day to stop. You kept pushing. You can’t cry about the fire when you hold the match to your own skin.”

Your mouth opened and shut. Your hands trembled.

“I didn’t know you’d...”

“You never know. That’s the problem.”

You pulled your knees to your chest, throat aching, stomach twisted.

He stood. Looked down at you like you were an equation he’d already solved.

“You can stay,” he said. “If you stop sulking.”

You stared. Silent. Then nodded.

“On one condition.”

You didn’t move.

“You’ll be tied up. All night.”

You inhaled too sharply.

He waited. He always waited.

“...Okay,” you whispered.

“Good.”

He pointed to the couch. “Drink your tea. It better not get cold.”

The mug burned your fingers. Your tears made it saltier. You drank.

When it was gone, he tapped his thigh.

You crawled. Head in his lap.

He stroked your hair. Spoke about nothing. Beetles. Larvae. A colleague’s presentation. The detachment in his voice should have repelled you, but it did the opposite. It lulled. It numbed.

Your tears slowed. Your eyes grew heavy. You cried quietly. And then you fell asleep.

He woke you up with his fingers.

“Bed.”

You stood. Stumbled. Followed him.

“Clothes off.”

You obeyed.

Underwear remained.

“All of them.”

You blinked. Then obeyed again.

He returned with a towel.

“You’re still wet.”

He dried you.

Methodical. Firm. Not tender.

The towel rasped over your skin. Your body flinched at each stroke. Not from pain—from something worse. From the realization that you liked this. That being touched by him—even like this—still felt like salvation. Like being seen. Like being something he acknowledged, even if it was just a problem he was solving with a dry towel and a pair of cuffs.

He dried your arms. Your back. Your legs. Avoided your eyes.

You were bare. Vulnerable. Wet in more ways than one.

But you said nothing. Because this was what you asked for.

When he was done, he took the restraints.

“Is this really—”

His eyes stopped you.

You turned your wrists over. Offered them.

He tied you. Not tight. But enough.

In bed, his breath evened out quickly.

Yours didn’t.

You stared at the ceiling, ribs rising and falling.

You were angry. You were ashamed. You were in love.

And that’s why you couldn’t leave.

You laid there long after his breath evened, trying to listen to it like it was a lullaby, trying to make it enough. You were tired. You were raw. But you were here.

Eventually, sleep found it.

And you let it take you.

[rashomonss]

A HUMANS WRATH

Part XV

previous part

taglist: @miridiums-writing, @zerchila, @aeongiies, @xmoogx, @coffeeandtealol, @food-lover9000, @l0diluvs, @vichsy, @valeriele3, @entolomaeden, @acaribeau, @arcayia, @jessiegerl, @capricorn-anon, @crescentworld, @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r, @chumbinhoeba, @chaos-n-kindness, @strawberryfire17, @zenxvii, @misscaller06, @luminarysol, @simpinginthecorner, @your-next-daydream, @bontensbabygirl, @crxwned-mxnarch, @ibtisam-aran, @mochicurls21, @rxsehxney, @xpixie, @ihatecorns, @hello-gloomy, @lunarloathsome, @crazytacokoala, @levia-chan, @bunny-masks-blog

a/n: hey y'all!! yay i finally updated haha….im so sorry it took so long if you’ve been keeping up with my other posts you’ll know that february was not good to me haha

also i wanted to let y’all know that we’re finally reaching the end of this story!! i plan on only making a few more chapters then i believe that’ll be all!

lastly thanks for all y’all’s patience and continued support I love reading every one of y’all’s comments and theories, it means the world! love y'all ♡

warnings: violence, fighting, angst

express just how you feel, don’t bottle it up anymore

“MC how are you? Even though I previously saw you everyday I’ve missed this you” Diavolo said with a bright smile as you joined him for breakfast. No thanks to Barbatos’ constant pestering.

You gave him a polite smile and nod as a response. It was easy enough to come up with a basic answer that you were fine, even if that wasn’t the case at all.

However as he ranted on about missing you and what activities he’d enjoy doing with you after he finished his paperwork you couldn’t help but feel nauseous.

After all he dislocated your shoulder the other day and now he was acting as if everything was perfectly fine?

Even if it was another version of him it was still him in a sense, which filled you with unease. If that version of him could do something that significant to you without so much as a thought then you had every right to be worried.

Is this how the other version of you felt?

Is that why they hated being touched by any demons?

Another hearty laugh broke out sending a chill down your spine. It reminded you of when he cornered you in the hallway as you tried to escape.

“MC are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look a little pale?”

You went to nod but your body betrayed you. A new wave of nausea washed over you and you felt bile rise up in your throat.

“MC…?” Barbatos questioned as he moved closer to you when you ignored Diavolo’s question.

Your fingers gripped the soft tablecloth as you tried to ground yourself. If anything you refused to lose your stomach in front of them.

Both demons looked at each other worryingly and Barbatos went to place a hand on your shoulder for comfort. Immediately you jolted in response and slapped his hand away as a sensation of fear became present in the pit of your stomach.

You had no idea where it came from, much less why you were scared when the butler reached out to help you. But you did know one thing, you didn’t want anyone touching you.

“Don’t touch me!” you yelled.

Your tone of voice startled him and Diavolo but mainly you as well. What was going on with you?

You never acted like this before, even when staying in the other timeline for so long. So why now? Why was everything anyone was doing so triggering you in any sort of way?

“I apologize…I didn't mean to upset you, I only wanted to check if you were okay,” Barbatos replied as he backed off. Even though he didn’t bother showing it, he was clearly worried about your current mental state. It appeared to be out of control ever since you returned. Which was another point he’d have to bring up with him later, since many instructions weren’t followed.

“…I’m…heading back to bed” you replied as you swiftly stood up and made your way to the door.

“But…you just woke up” Diavolo said softly but you were well out of range for his voice to actually reach you.

With a sigh the butler looked to his lord then to the floor. Maybe they weren’t the right demons to welcome you back after being gone for such a decent amount of time. It was better if you were around demons you were used to, ones that were comforting.

So he picked up his D.D.D and quickly called the first demon that came to mind.

___

Seven bodies rushed towards you faster than you could process and some large beautiful roses were shoved in your face as you tried to process everything that was going on.

All seven of your demons began talking at once and exclaimed how much they had missed you.

“Oh MC! I can’t believe you’re back, I’ve missed you so so so terribly” Asmo cried as he clung onto your shoulder.

“Hey let go of them!” Mammon yelled in your ear as he tried yanking you away from Asmo.

“Stop pushing” Belphie groaned as he hugged your frame from behind.

“Mammon stop yelling so loudly” Levi shouted out as he was hugging you from the same side Asmo was.

The other three demons who weren’t suffocating you were also arguing with their brother as they clung onto you. Yelling and shouting could be heard from all around you as you stayed in place watching all seven of them yell back and forth like children.

It was too overwhelming. The yelling in your ear, the way one would hold you tighter if they got mad, the way four of them were putting all of their body weight on you was too much for your liking. And the fact the other three were aggravating the four who were holding onto you.

You felt so suffocated.

You were suffocated in your own timeline due to your willingness to indulge all of the seven demons you lived with.

You were suffocated in the other timeline because you decided to show some demons some kindness they hadn’t experienced for a very long time. Look where that got you. A dislocated shoulder and some unresolved issues that you refused to acknowledge.

You were suffocated with the prince and his butler. They always were on some type of schedule, and when you didn’t follow what Diavolo wanted at that very second, you would never hear the end of it from Barbatos.

Why was everyone so demanding?

God forbid you do something for yourself for once.

You struggled in their grip and tried to get their attention to possibly settle down. The constant loud yelling was getting you more agitated by the minute and frankly you were getting a headache.

Just as you were about to speak someone yelled over you and a fight between two of them broke out. Since you were absolutely fed up with it you shouted for all of them to shut up and pushed them off of you.

Each of the seven demons shut their mouth in an instant and the prince and butler looked at you with a worried expression. Due to that being the same tone of voice you used with Barbatos earlier he knew that something was obviously wrong.

Diavolo then spoke up for you as he walked over to the brothers. “Don’t mind them, a lot is on their mind right now especially since they’ve dealt with so much physically and emotionally these past couple days. So please give MC some space to relax”

You in turn shot him a glare. “I’m perfectly fine. However I don’t appreciate it when someone is screaming in my ear and putting all their weight on me while others are fighting in the background like children”

“How about you head back to the House of Lamentation. A lot is on your mind MC, it would do you good to go rest in a place you’re comfortable and familiar with” Barbatos then added trying his best to ease the tension in the room and change the topic as well.

With a nod you departed with the brothers about fifteen minutes later for a silent trip to the House of Lamentation. Each of them were too worried to bother you so they all left you to do your own thing when you all got home.

However Mammon was still going to try to comfort you in his own way.

“Hey MC, ya wanna hang out and watch a movie? I got a few in my room and we can relax” he asked with a soft smile as she walked up behind you.

“Thanks but I’d rather rest right now, maybe later” and before he could even finish you were off.

It was odd, during any other time you would’ve enjoyed hanging out and relaxing in his room like you used to but as of now you really wanted to just be by yourself.

So quietly you made your way to your room and when you opened the door you were absolutely applauded by the way it looked.

Everything was everywhere and the decorations you had of you and your demons were ripped and taken down. Clean clothes were piled onto a chair and your bed was an absolute mess as a few shits and things littered the floor.

However you were too tired to take care of it at the moment. Due to how emotional exhausted you were a nap sounded lovey so you plopped down and in minutes you were out.

___

Around late afternoon you had walked into the kitchen to grab a snack since you didn’t exactly have much of an appetite after everything that had happened in the past two days. Surprisingly enough two demons were already occupying the kitchen when you arrived, one gossiped and the other listened even though he was believably bored.

“MC” Satan said with a smile, he was very grateful that someone showed up to stop Asmo’s rambling.

With a nod you dug through the fridge and grabbed something to eat and walked over to the two hesitantly.

“What are you both talking about?” You asked after they stayed silent and smiled at you.

Amso was the first to perk up and tell you. “Well we were just talking about some new gossip about this one actor and her husband, some people we know and you…well the other you”

“The other me?” You asked

“Yeah the one you switched with remember.” Satan added.

You nodded and then looked at them before responding. Just how did the other version of you act? Were they like the other Barbatos said? Angry, stubborn, and everything. Did they treat your demons like how they’d treated theirs? So many questions ran through your head at once, but you opted for only asking a basic one.

“So just how was the other version of me?”

“They were a bit intense at first…no I take it back they were really intense at first, but in reality they only wanted one thing in the end then they finally were content” Asmo said as he reapplied some lipstick to his lips.

“Really what did they want?” You asked, now interested in the other versions' motives.

“They just wanted an apology. After Belphie gave them an honest heart to heart in the planetarium they finally calmed down and we were able to be civil with them” Asmo explained.

“Yeah and they even started opening up a bit, although they were exactly like you so learning about what they liked was cute since we already know what you enjoy” Satan added with a smirk.

You tuned out the rest of the conversation they were having with you as you focused on the said “apology” Belphie gave the other version of you.

So it was true and they weren’t lying when they talked to you previously in the attic. Somehow that ticked you off even more.

“Oh yeah and we’re so sorry you had to go through all that crazy timeline stuff dear, I bet it’s been so exhausting huh?” Asmo asked as he rubbed your back.

“Uh huh” you replied and then brushed him off as you excused yourself out of the kitchen without another word, causing the two demons to look at you with a slightly confused expression.

Silently you paced around the house for a bit as you rethought about what the two of them said. With a sigh you ventured into the common room and stared at the fireplace. So you were worth a basic sorry but not one that took responsibility for all the damage they caused you?

It’s not as if their words actually meant anything. Honestly if they had been keen on sweeping the whole incident under the rug then why even offer the other version of you an apology?

They did it to better help them heal?

Bullshit.

What about you?

How come they could do that for anyone else other than you?

When you’ve helped them so much.

Your rage and jealousy had been bubbling up inside you for so long that it finally reached its breaking point.

If anyone was supposed to receive any words or actions of their forgiveness it should’ve been you and you were tired of pretending you didn’t deserve anything less than that.

In a rage you trashed the common room as Asmo and Satan watched in horror since they just happened to walk by.

They rushed to try and stop you but you used your pact to stop them in place as you broke everything in sight. The sound of yelling and glass breaking alerted all the other demons in the house and soon the rest of them watched in awe as you demolished anything in your path.

Mammon ran to you as you ripped the roses they all bought for you and tore them to shreds right in front of them. When he reached you he grabbed you by the arm and you shoved him away and yelled at him in response.

They all just kept getting in your way, it was so unbearable.

As the six demons froze in place due to their activated pacts you picked up one of the large vases Lucifer loved and proceeded to lift it up to throw at them.

“This is all your fault! Look at what you’ve done to me” you screamed out to the six demons standing in front of you. Your cry was not one of just anger, they could sense the sorrow in your voice. The way it cracked and longed to just be healed.

You wanted someone to comfort you and the ability for someone, anyone honestly to just acknowledge what had happened to you. Maybe then if they did you could finally feel like your feelings were valid, rather than unnecessary and pointless.

Fresh tears fueled by pure anger and frustration fell from your eyes as you got ready to swing the vase at the six of them. That was until the youngest brother rushed in front of his brothers and spoke.

“This is my fault MC, please don’t take it out on my brothers” Belphie said as he stepped in front of the six of them, shielding them with his body.

“No it’s not just your fault. It’s all of your faults. Don’t feel too special Belphie, you're not the only one out of your brothers who has tried to kill me.” you spat out.

“Each of you have threatened to end my life at least once ever since I’ve been here, and believe me I haven’t forgotten a single moment of it. Unlike before I continued to ignore what happened just like all of you but I’m fed up now.”

The seven demons looked at themselves then back at you and sighed.

“MC we’re truly sorry, you know we-“ Lucifer began.

“I don’t want your apology. It means nothing to me anymore. Especially since you can go and hand it out to whoever now” you replied swiftly, cutting him off in the process.

“Then if I truly can’t make you believe me I’ll show you.” Belphie then said quickly.

“And how do you expect to do that?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your body.

“Take it out on me.”

“Excuse me?”

“All of your anger, everything you’ve had building up. Punch me, hit me, choke me, do whatever you need to do so that you don’t have to feel this way. I know my apology means nothing to you, and believe me this is much more selfish of me to ask you to do this but I want to make it up to you MC. Even if you’ll hate me for the rest of your life I want you to get the closure you deserve. I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you. For as long as I live”

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked at him in shock. You hadn’t expected him to actually respond like that, much less take responsibility for everything that had happened.

“Belphie-!” Beel began, he was still standing back with the others, but the worried look on his face was apparent as he watched his twin pour his heart out to the person they both cherished.

Belphie shook his head at his twin then looked back towards you. “I promise MC, I’ll show you how much of a better demon I can be. So go ahead”

The six demons behind you watched as you slowly approached the youngest hesitantly. Surprisingly enough he still had the same soft smile on his face as he watched you come closer.

Then you swung.

With a swift punch to the face, right on the nose Belphie stumbled back and grabbed his face as a small drop of blood pooled out.

You swung again.

And again,

And again.

As you watched the youngest fall to the floor you continued. And for some odd reason you didn’t feel bad about how beat up he was beginning to look.

Instead you finally felt a form of closure for the first time.

[crusty]

hi, im going down a rabbit hole for a video essay, did you happen to run the turbotasticasks blog back in 2012???

SCREAMS if you've managed to connect me to A TURBO ask blog in 20 fucking 24 that is insane....

I DID run a Turbo ask blog on deviantArt back in 2012

I hadn't checked on it in ages but there are some SOLID STUPID ASS POSTS i was fucking obsessed with his ugly ass as a 14 year old (still am tbh) and I didn't realize how many goddamn pageviews this page got holy christ

There were quite a few Turbo ask blogs on dA at the time, and I was more of a crack/shitposting Turbo, so my version was off the shits insane. Eventually, the fandom died, and I moved onto Homestuck around late 2013 early 2014 and also started using tumblr more than dA! I had some great memories of shitposting, rping on the chatboards, and answering the few questions I did in the short amount of time the fandom was alive

We got some great hits in this crusty era... including but not limited to:

"I'm okay..."

And

Turbo selfcest à la 2012 tumblr sexymen ask account selfcest shipping .... THE REAL OGS REMEMBER

WE were very chummy with the onceler fandom. You could imagine the relationship between these 2 sexymen selfcest shipping fandoms to be like the unbreakable bond between early 2011-2013 era homestuck and hetalia fandoms... very very good memories indeed...

My original tumblr username was like @im-turbo-fucking-tastic and I mostly lurked and rbed art back then! I wasn't the most confident posting art on tumblr at the time (it was new and scary and full of cool older people) and it wouldn't rly be until around 2016/2017 when the homestuck obsession came back in full swing, grabbed me by the cock and swung me into a high voltage line

If you have ANY OTHER QUESTIONS, feel free to pester me. I'd love to see what you're working on!!!! I MISS THE WRECK IT RALPH FANDOM SO MUCHHHHH

Thank you for the ask <3 XD

[sheyfu]

pretty boy

𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛 you comfort a crying akaashi keiji

feat. post-timeskip akaashi keiji (wife!reader)

cw: ooc; kinda rushed AAAAAAAAA (i still dont know how to pace my stories i will cry); mentions of wanting to commit mass murder; proofread but not really

prompt. free write! i had sm fun w this NYEHEHEHEH (based on this req <33) note. self-indulgent; my second piece for @lia-loves's flufftober event! this is also for the anon who requested for akaashi's version of 'i love my man', which i orginally wrote as a piece for reo from bllk! if you'd like to check it out (shamless plug LAMSODMAD), you can click on the link^ tbh this is super rushed bc i dont know how to pace my stuff but we ball LMADAOMDS AND GANG IK THIS IS OOC BUT IM SOMEONE WHO BELIEVES AKAASHI'S NONCHALANT SKIBIDI RIZZLER AURA DISSIPATES (omg big word) IN FRON OF YOU yes. read for a banger 🙏 wc. 940 (and again.. lia... i know you said don't write an essay but... huheuueh)

contrary to popular belief, being an editor for a shonen manga magazine isn’t an easy job. yes, you get to laze around until your talent submits their work to you for further checking, but only if you knew how difficult it was to work with crammers, then you’d see the hell these editors go through each passing day.

the amount of pestering you’d have to do just to receive mediocre pieces of art and an even-more-mediocre storyline that you can’t help but cry to (not that it’s unusable or course. it just needs a little (a lot) of revision :]), and the amount of times you’d have to apologize to the big bosses for the delay brings tears to the eyes of each and every editor.

personally, you’ve never experienced any of those hardships. your life as a legal practitioner is pretty smooth-sailing—save for the fact that some clients are a bit hard headed of course—but other than that, your life is a-okay!

and adding onto the fact that you’re happily wed to your husband of eight years, mr. akaashi keiji, you’d say you're pretty much content with life right now.

speaking of husband, is akaashi keiji happy with his life? definitely! a happy wife = happy life! 

and how about his work life? uhhhh, not so much.

“die die die die die die die”

the door to your apartment bursts open as a slumped figure walks in carelessly kicking his shoes in some corner of your little foyer. hearing the concerning amount of grumbles coming from your husband interrupt your little staring contest with the very demonic cat shaped cookies you decided to bake to pass time.

“keiji? you alright over there?” furrowing your eyebrows at the lack of response, you trudge to the living room to check up on your beloved.

“keiji? my love– what-”

only to see the biggest shocker of your life: a crying akaashi keiji.

now, keiji has cried a bunch of times in front of you; whether those tears have been from happiness or sadness, you’ve seen them all. you’ve also seen him go into little tantrums whenever he has his crying sessions; most of the time, these are due to his rather.. unruly clients. but no, tonight’s different. never in your life have you seen your akaashi keiji cry and be in hysterics at the same time.

“i can’t do this anymore!” continuous sobs rip out from the man in front of you—his bloodshot eyes being a telltale sign that he’s been crying even before he getting your shared apartment. 

oh dear..

upon reaching his knelt down form on the floor, you join him to litter his face with kisses. “hey now.. don’t cry please. i hate seeing you cry.” patting his head and engulfing him in a big hug, you continue to land kisses on his head.

only to be grabbed by the shoulders. “w- woah!”

“no, wife! i- i really can’t do it!” exasperated claims continuously spew out of his mouth—his cries seemingly getting worse and worse. “these… these vermins! they’re ruining my life! and that’s not even it! they also—”

comforting a crying husband on your chest isn’t part of your nightly routine. what also isn’t part of your routine is being gripped to death by said crying husband.

“i swear.. i swear to god, wife. i’ll actually throw my sketchbook at them the next time we meet.” keiji’s hoarse voice sounds from your chest; little sniffles coming out from him as you console your weeping spouse. 

oh keiji.. my sweet, sweet keiji..

“look at me, keiji.” said man raises his head up to meet your gaze. cupping his cheeks to bid the tears goodbye, you offer him a smile, “i know you’re mad– very mad—and i get you! it’s totally valid to feel like this” swiping your thumbs to get rid of the stray tears, you continue, “i’m sorry this happened to you, keiji. you know i’m not the best with words, but to try and bring comfort to you, i could join you if you do decide to wreak havoc in the office. you with your sketchbooks, me with my thousand page law books. how does that sound, hmm?” 

a small smile appears on his face—a sight you’ve seen each day, yet something you’ve never grown accustomed to. 

“really? you’d do that with me?” the smile on his face grows; eyes lighting up with glee as he takes in your words.

feeling a hot flush creep up on your face, you can’t help but utter your next words unwittingly, “you’re so pretty, keiji.” a few beats of silence pass as you process your own words.

well shit.

“o- oh, sorry! i didn’t mean to say that.. well! i mean you are pretty… really pretty actually, but–” small, yet resounding giggles stop your flow of speech. 

“even after eight years of being together, you still get flustered saying compliments” giggles-turned-to-laughter now escape from an akaashi keiji—his hand clutching his stomach as he slaps the bed. 

“hey! don’t be mean! it’s not my fault you’re so pretty..” you start sulking as you take in the sight of your now laughing husband, seemingly enjoying your flustered state.

as his laughter slowly comes to a halt, his next words surprise you even more.

“well. to make it even.. you’re really, really beautiful too, wife” a grin appears on akaashi keiji’s face as he kisses your forehead. 

your eyes widen as you process his words. 

me… beautiful… i’m… he thinks… he said i’m beautiful..

“stop your dirty tricks, keiji! this was supposed to be me comforting you— mmph!” 

he cuts you off with a kiss.

linking lia's flufftober event here!!

✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ ✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ ✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡

please check her event and works out!!

🐈‍⬛️: gang first time writing for hq and I KNOW IM VERY MUCH AWARE that it's ooc LMAODMAOSDGIOA BUT EVEN SO, I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED MWAWMAMWA. i won't add hq to my taglist (yet. i'll still see LAMDOAMD), but shamless self plug LAMSDOAMSD if you'd like to be part of my taglist(s) for blue lock, honkai star rail, ace of diamond, kaiju no 8 and/or genshin, please access the gform link below <3

© sheyfu on tumblr

[tweeptwee]

I have an entire written scene for this! This is the first time I've posted writing on tumblr, so I'd love if you checked it out!

Context + Short Scene + additional doodles under the cut <3

[Message I typed before, which inspired the following scene.]

i really like All versions of clover, but i never see them depicted in a feminine light!! ive been imagining frisk pestering chara to do their nails, because they like the feeling of their nails being done. itd make the edges smooth, and theyd get the weird, smooth texture on the top clover would walk in for a visit, see that nails are being done, and just immediately ask if they could join

Additonal Information: - Chara uses They/She pronouns (interchangably) - Clover uses They/Them pronouns - Frisk uses They/Them pronouns

------

"... You work on a farm, Clover." Chara has a raise to their brow as they say this, but they don’t look away from applying a final coat of magenta to Frisk’s nails. Clover sits heavily at the table next to them, scooting their chair closer. Obnoxious screeching ensues, and they hover over Chara as she works. "Uh- yeah, so?" "... You do realize they would... chip, right?" She switches from Frisk’s left hand to their right. "Nail polish comes off easily. Even doing dishes too often will wear them off." "Well, yeah, but- it’d be pretty, wouldn’t it?" They grin, taking off muddy gloves to look at their nails. "They don’t gotta last long, anyways! I can appreciate a good polish even with the wear, partner!"

Chara huffs, capping the bottle. They direct their attention to Frisk instead. "... Alright, don’t move your hands too much as they dry." They turn back to Clover; "if you do want them done, then promise to stay still. If they smudge before they’re done, I’m not finishing them." Clover cheers, immediately twisting in their chair to offer Chara their hands. Chara cringes. "Go wash your hands.” "Oh- right! Sorry, one second!" Clover dashes off, rushing water and frantic scrubbing ensuing. Quick footsteps hurry back, and Clover launches back into their seat. "There! All nice and clean, just fer' you, princess!" Chara sighs, but picks up their now clean hands. They’re rough—far rougher than Frisk’s. They could tell they’re well worn from their usual activities. "... Alright. What colour would you like?" She gestures with her head to the table, adorned with a dozen or so polishes of varying quality. Clover doesn’t even look before they respond with an enthusiastic; "Surprise me!" "... If you say so."

She absentmindedly moves to pluck one of the bottles, before her hand pauses mid reach. She quickly switches directions. They... thought they would pick the yellow polish, but, seeing as it’s their choice... They picked up a bottle with a beautiful, shimmering crimson red; shadows so deep they shifted to a purple. If they were going to make her pick, then she’d pick her favourite one. The bottle opening with a twist, Chara angled Clover’s hand to cup it in their own. Their knee pressed against hers—ratted denim against the cold skin of her knee, and it took more mental concentration than they’d ever admit to ignore it. "... Hold still." Chara heard them suck in a breath, and huffed a breath of amusement. "And breathe, idiot." Clover exhaled. "... Oops." Chara didn't deign that with a response, starting on their first coat. Clover sat surprisingly still as she worked. Their palms were hot, and after a while they started sweating a bit, but they were sitting more still than Frisk was. Their nails were longer than she initially expected, too. They were thick, albeit a bit chipped at the ends. The red polish sunk into the cracks, glimmering beautifully. She gently set their finished hand onto the table, a quick, "don’t move that," huffed under her breath without notice as she grabbed their other hand. Clover’s leg was bouncing against their own, but they paid it no mind as they quickly finished their second hand. "... Alright. Don’t move. Wait a few minutes, and I’ll come back and finish the next coat. Frisk?" Frisk tilted their head. "... You can run off now. Just don’t hit them against anything too hard."

They nodded, and scampered off into the hallway– presumably towards their room. Clover, when she looked back at them, was smiling with a dopey grin at their hands. "... Do you like the colour?" They jumped in their spot, looking back at her. "I sure do! This is such a nice colour– reminds me of yer eyes," they beam, and go back to watching the red shimmer under the light. Chara felt their face go hot. "... Ah. Of... of course you would think that." Clover absentmindedly nodded, before lapsing into a peaceful silence. A few minutes passed like that; simply... sitting. Chara themself were pleased with the silence; and while Clover usually seemed more talkative, she knew they could appreciate a moment of silence just as much as her. She shifted in her spot, tilting towards Clover again. "Alright. Hold your hands out. I... wont be doing a third coat, like I did with frisk. I hope that’s alright." Clover obliged, hands slotting into theirs with ease. "Yup! All good with me," they grinned, lopsided; "'sides, I’ll just come down again when I want another coat!" Chara squinted, twisting the bottle open again. "... And who’s to say I’d do this again." Clover paused, blinking as their nails were delicately coated with more red. Chara wasn’t looking, but they could feel their pouting face. They did their entire left hand, and started on their right before speaking up again. "... I would. For the record." Clover lit up. The, 'yes,' that leaked from their lips stretched on an uncomfortable amount of seconds. "I knew ya loved me." "... Unfortunately."

------

[songfell-ut]

The High Priest

So you know how @iamjoekurose asked me about if Frisk met an opposite-gender version of herself? The idea high-key got its hooks in me and I procured a little something from the sublime @skyworkartzzz and this is male Frisk.

What's that, you say? Mr. Frisk isn't enough? Well too bad, I definitely didn't spend almost a week one-finger typing a la George RR Martin and this totally isn't a scene taking place the morning of All Souls Day in chapter 6. If it was, I'd clarify that this Frisk doesn't need help putting earrings on...it's a little more involved.

You also won't find a casual version of his outfit at the end of it beneath the cut. Nope nope.

Frisk half closed the bathroom door, eyes squeezed shut as he flicked on the witchlight. He slumped against the sink, groped around for the left handle, and ran the water at full blast, yawning mightily as the steam rose. First step, wet his face: grab a washcloth from the pile he knew was beside the tap, shake it out, and reach down to...jerk his hand back, his stupid brain catching up just in time to avoid being scalded. He forced his eyes open and adjusted the water temperature to a less damaging heat, muttering under his breath. He needed to hurry up and finish shaving, couldn't be late to tea with—

To his surprise, the door opened and Sans ducked inside, slumping onto the floor behind him. The skeleton gave him a little salute in the mirror and yawned wide enough to make Frisk wince a little. “Mornin', chief. Gettin’ dolled up already?”

Frisk didn’t dignify that with an answer—Sans had initially believed that “dolled up” applied to all humans dressing nicely, and when Frisk tried to explain that it mostly meant a woman putting on makeup, Sans insisted that all humans were the exact same, and Frisk was a human, and it was therefore a correct thing to say and he now said it almost every morning. Unfortunately, that happened to be how often he came in as Frisk was trying to shave, sitting far too close in the narrow space to pester him with smart remarks.

Well, Frisk had heard much, much worse, and on mornings when he wasn't tired and cranky, he generally didn't mind if Sans wanted to amuse himself observing human grooming rituals. At least he wasn't saying "Okay, I'll shave it for later" and making Frisk laugh too hard to get a blade near his face safely; he had had to order the giant skeleton out of the room and shut the door at least twice now.

Luckily, Sans remained silent as he watched this morning's routine unfold. Once Frisk had dunked the washcloth in the basin and scrubbed his face in a still-too-hot attempt to wake up, he tapped the vanity's middle drawer to remove the barrier. Therein lay a spotless straight razor, a large silver case of shaving soap, and an immaculate brush, kept locked up out of habit from the days at the monastery where everyone stole everyone else's bath items. The priest checked the soap and made a face at how thin it was getting, which amused Sans, judging by his smirk as their eyes met in the mirror; Frisk ignored him and wetted the brush down, swishing it across the soap till he worked up a good lather, and dabbed along the lines of his beard and mustache, tilting his head to slather it thickly beneath his jaw. Then he checked the mirror one more time to see if Sans thought that was funny, too - no, he just seemed mildly interested - and picked up the razor. It was time-consuming but not too difficult, just quick, careful movements to scrape the stuff off a few little strokes at a time—

Except Frisk was so tired and squinty that it wasn't long before he gave one little stroke too hard and flinched. “Dirt on a frigging—”

“Atta boy. Cuss away,” Sans said cheerfully, and gave another huge yawn, ignoring Frisk’s glare in the mirror. “Yer face is leakin’," he added. "Need some help?”

Frisk stared at the tiny trickle of blood that was indeed starting its way down his cheek, then sighed in defeat, wiping the blade on a hand towel. “If you could, please.” However smirky Sans was, there really was some benefit to having company with the power to heal stupid inju—

The razor was suddenly enveloped in red mist. "All righty, one sec." Frisk jumped as the blade tugged itself out of his grip and settled on the counter. “There we go. Now hol' still.” The priest watched Sans raise a bony finger and rest the very tip on Frisk's sleep-ruffled hair; a flick of green later, Frisk's cheek tingled as the cut vanished. "Done."

“Thank you,” Frisk said, scrubbing the blood away and steeling himself - ha, steel - to get back to work. Tired as he was, he couldn't walk out of here with only one side of his face done. But he’d probably be fine now that he was more awake, right? He wouldn’t be more nervous and likely to make another mistake in front of Sans, right? Ha ha, of course not. His hands weren't shaky at all from nerves or exhaustion...

Sans broke into his thoughts with a thoughtful sound. “Ya know what? Just lemme do it. Hold real still, okay?” He sat up, his finger curling very gently to rest over the crown of Frisk's head and keep him in place. “Seriously, don' even breathe wrong," he added, lifting the razor on another wisp of magic.

The human’s eyes widened, hands rising in protest as his brain caught up. "No, no, no thank you," he almost whispered, and cleared his throat, pulling enough of himself together to say louder, "Don't worry about that." He ducked out from beneath Sans' finger, smoothing his ruffled hair. "You're a bodyguard and a diplomat, not a valet."

"Dunno what that is. I'm guessin' somebody who shaves rich people?" Sans waggled the razor in midair. "Ya hired me to protect you from gettin' cut up, an' now you want me t'just sit here and watch ya play with sharp objects in your goddamn sleep? Dunno if I'm good enough ta heal you if ya take yer ear off."

That gave Frisk far too much pause before he could answer, "I'm not going to cut my ear off," with very patient dignity, trying to ignore a bit of lather dripping off his neck.

The boss monster snorted. Up came the shaving brush, but before Frisk could tell him to put it down or at least be careful with it, Sans' magic dipped it into the case almost daintily and worked up more soap. "Look, kiddo, lemme try it. If I fuck it up, I'll heal you an' I won't ever mention it again." The brush rose and drifted close enough to dab Frisk lightly on the neck, which tickled enough to make him crack a smile. "See?" Sans said gleefully. "We're good. Just hold still." And his forefinger settled again on the priest's rumpled head.

Frisk opened his mouth to order him out of the bathroom. But…after a long moment of panic warring with irritation and self-doubt, and hearty embarrassment...he swallowed, and, against his better judgment, said, “All right.” He allowed the razor to approach, and watched in the mirror as it drifted close enough for the lightest experimental scrp, scrp on his cheek. It paused, Sans meeting his eye for an inquiring stare; Frisk started to nod, and was stopped by a growl. He tried a smile instead, but that made his cheeks bunch up; he rolled his eyes instead, gesturing to keep going.

Sans chuckled. It seemed he had been watching the morning routine closer than Frisk thought, because there was no need to tell him to pull the skin taut for a closer shave: a speck of magic pressed just hard enough to help the blade pass over the stubble just so. A few swipes, a wipe on the towel, and Frisk let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I lied. You can breathe," Sans deadpanned, but when Frisk tried to smile, he got another reproving tap.

It was easier to mock-glare at Sans in the mirror than watch as the blade moved a little faster, with increasing surety, though the skeleton was intent on his work. Difficult as it was shaving oneself for the first time, never mind someone else, the razor made absolutely no nicks, no missed bits; Sans did pause frequently, forefinger tilting the priest’s head this way and that to check his work in the mirror— “Screw this,” the skeleton said presently. “Just turn around.”

With all the cool indifference of a boy letting his mother spit on her hand to fix his hair, Frisk shuffled around in a half circle and waited for more, only for Sans to chuckle again. “Don't give me that look, pal,” he said, sounding…exasperated, but something else, too.

That was it: the High Priest gave up any remaining dignity and sat down cross-legged on the bathroom floor. Sans shifted onto his side, jaw propped up on on hand, then took a sideways one-fingered hold on Frisk’s head and began scraping away again, much quicker and more confident than he ever was.

Well, dirt. The priest wanted desperately to say something, but his skin would be in peril if he moved his mouth; he opted to keep his eyes closed, allowing Sans to turn his head this way and that to get each side, gentle as always. He never touched him with any more force than necessary, Frisk thought, at least after that first encounter in his prison cell; even when the assassin was after him and Sans was physically maneuvering him to safety, he had been careful not to hurt him. Having much more direct proof of the monster's determination to protect him, trusting Sans with a literal blade at his neck? It was incredibly endearing.

Actually, given Frisk's thoughts of skeleton parts and pondering conjugal relations, it was better – worse? – than that. Definitely more confusing; all these years of struggling to muster interest in any of the women chasing him, of ignoring accusations of preferring men because if he did like them, he surely would have noticed it in all those years at the monastery—Frisk had started to think he was just...broken in that respect. Why in every circle of Hell was he feeling so strange about exposing his throat to a gigantic monster in total security that Sans wasn't going to hurt him? It wasn't fear that made his skin tingle like that, or at least not more than a tiny bit. It definitely felt nice, except that that wasn't the word for it.

When the process was finished, Sans gave a satisfied grunt. “Ha. See?” He nudged Frisk’s shoulder, and the High Priest shook himself, then obediently shuffled around in another half circle, then remembered to open his eyes and pull himself to his feet for an inspection in the mirror. “Beautiful,” the skeleton said triumphantly, setting the razor on the sink.

Wha— Frisk couldn’t help staring at him in the mirror, eyes wide, feeling and seeing his nicely shorn cheeks redden further. “Once again, you have the wrong word,” he said as coolly as possible, and tore his gaze away to busy himself rinsing and drying the brush and razor.

“Wha?” Sans blinked at him, sockets also going wide, and Frisk watched his cheekbones suddenly change color. “Not you, goddammit! Beautiful work,” snapped the boss monster. “As in, I told ya you needed help, an’ then I did it totally perfect. Not like I was gonna cut yer…” He gave a fake cough, evidently remembering that Frisk might not like to hear any hyperbole about having his throat cut.

“Yes, well done. Thank you,” Frisk said hastily, reaching for the towel and barely remembering to run cool water to splash his cheeks first. He needed something cool right now.

...

...

...

(His more everyday garb:)