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six-eyed-samurai · 10 months ago

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SUMMARY: It's been some time since your death and yet none of the Hashira still have the heart to remind Muichiro you're gone. A/N: I'm not too sure if the title means what I think it means so let me know if it's wrong...anyways I got the idea from a fic of @oceanxmoonz, so credits! Also you can probably tell I got lazy at the end... WARNINGS: (y/n) is dead. That's it.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

Shinobu’s smile was a little faker than before as she turned around to face the expectantly waiting Mist Pillar, who seemed a little upset. She couldn’t answer that quite yet. “Are you looking for them?”

“Yes,” Muichiro said plainly. “I couldn’t find them at all this morning. Or afternoon…have you seen them?”

Was it sadder to watch Muichiro lose his closest friend - if not something more - and grieve about it for a long time after or sadder to watch him forget they were long dead? That they weren’t avoiding him like his amnesia had him think, that they actually couldn’t? He always needed to be reminded and Shinobu didn’t like to be the one to do so.

“Tokito…they died a few months ago, remember?”

“No, they didn’t. Ginko would’ve told me.” His eyes widened, then narrowed angrily. “I don’t think that’s a very funny thing to say, Kocho.”

“But, Tokito-”

“I’ll go find (y/n) myself,” he said abruptly, then walked off.

Of course he came back later with the same question; of course Shinobu’s smile faltered.

***

“…I forgot your name.”

“…”

Muichiro blinked at the stoic Pillar before him. “You’re the…something Hashira, right? I think (y/n) mentioned you. Are they back from both of your mission yet?”

Tomioka hesitated. He was honest but he wasn’t cruel. He knew exactly what Tokito was talking about, knew that he suffered from huge blanks in his memory. He envied the younger Hashira a little, to be able to forget such tragedy - however seeing him constantly wander around wondering where they’d gone was a pitiful sight.

So in the end he decided to evade the question. “Yes. (y/n) came back safely from the mission.”

The Mist Pillar’s eyes lit up. “Thank you. I’ll go find them now.”

Yes, (y/n) came back from their mission together safely. If only the same could be said of the last.

***

“HAR?”

“I said, where’s (y/n)?” Muichiro sighed after his almost shout at the disbelieving Wind Pillar. “Has your mission damaged your ears?”

“You little-” Sanemi checked himself. “I know damn well what it was you said.”

“Okay then, where’s (y/n)? I found this flower I wanted to show them.”

The older man’s mouth fell open, probably to harshly remind Tokito for the fifth time that month that who he was looking for was long dead and gone. Then it closed again.

Sanemi was not a soft man, evidenced by his scars, shouts, and treatment of his younger brother. But at the end of the day his intentions, though misguided, were what he wanted best for everyone. It was a tragic world out there and whether his next words were going to exacerbate it he would accept the consequences whole-heartedly - no one would fault him for not wanting to bring the poor kid back to shattering reality either, right?

“Probably out on another mission. You can’t keep hogging them to yourself, Tokito.”

“That’s odd…I thought they just came back…”

“Yeah, well, demons don’t wait for anyone!” Sanemi barked. Sadly, too true.

***

“Oh, Tokito…!”

“…Kan-something-san?” Muichiro’s face twisted in confusion as the pink-haired lady threw herself at him crying, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” Mitsuri straightened and wiped at her face, plastering a bright but trembling smile for the younger Hashira.

Muichiro blinked. “Okay. Have you seen (y/n)? I just got back from a mission but I can’t find them.”

“…perhaps they’re busy?” Mitsuri swept the tears on her cheeks again. “Don’t worry, I don’t think they’d ignore if they had a choice, Tokito!”

“Oh…alright then.” Muichiro drifted off, readily accepting Mitsuri’s story despite the obvious holes for lack of better explanation.

Mitsuri bit her lip, guilty at her lie. Every day Muichiro would approach with the same question and every day someone or some way it would be broken to him that (y/n) was long gone but as terrible as it made her feel Mitsuri never wanted to be the one who did it.

He’d found the love she’d always been searching for. Unfortunate one didn’t survive for long.

***

“Young Tokito! Are you looking for someone?!”

“You’re really loud…” Muichiro tilted his head. “Have you seen (y/n)?”

Tengen and Rengoku shared a look - the Sound Pillar broke the pause first. “Tokito, don’t you remember?”

“Remember what?” Muichiro’s attention span was already running out. “I think I saw them today but I can’t remember where.”

“You couldn’t have seen them,” Tengen starts again, for it’s not the first time the Mist Pillar has mistaken someone else for (y/n). “They’re-”

“Oh, right…at the Butterfly Mansion, I think. Thanks for…helping?” Muichiro left and the two Pillars glanced at each other again.

“Who’s gonna tell him? He can’t keep walking around thinking they’re still alive. That’s just cruel.”

“But if he remembers his spirit will be beyond crushed - you remember how he was when he first found out. For now, when we need to be most vigilant, perhaps we should let him be!”

Rengoku’s voice carried a tremor of uncertainty, however.

***

“I saw Kanroji and you talk a few days ago. Did you make her cry?” Obanai glowered menacingly at the deadpan Mist Pillar.

“No? She was crying?”

“Yes!” Kaburamaru hissed with his owner.

“Oh…right. Now I remember. I didn’t make her cry.” Muichiro looked up. “At least I don’t think so?”

Obanai resisted the urge to slap his hand on his forehead. He leaned in clsoer. “Why was she crying?”

“I have no idea,” Muichiro said, leaning back. He brightened. “Oh, right. I was asking about (y/n).”

“(y/n)?” Obanai stiffened but took a step back. “Oh. I see.”

“Which reminds me…I wanted to go see her after our sparring, but I don’t know where they are.”

The Serpent Pillar and his snake shifted uncomfortably. “You’ll find them.”

Not really. Obanai hoped for the sake of his comrade that he’d forget he’d already asked the question and not stumble upon (y/n)’s grave.

***

Himejima too cried.

It didn’t really make sense to Muichiro, but he let the oldest Hashira lay a hand on his shoulder and say some prayers. He didn’t really pay attention to the wording but he caught his name and (y/n)’s.

It was safe to assume the Stone Hashira didn’t know where they were so Muichiro bid him goodbye (or at least he thought he did) and set off to go find them himself. From behind the trees one Shinazugawa Genya watched him go before joining his master’s side.

“Why isn’t anyone telling him?” Genya couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose someone so close to you, someone to love and care for, and not even remember when they were no longer there.

“Some things must be found out by himself.”

“Isn’t it unfair to (y/n)’s memory if Tokito doesn’t remember?”

“I’m sure (y/n) will understand…they were very patient with him. They will understand that he needs to take his own time in coming into terms with…”

“Coming into terms?” Genya’s frown deepened. “You mean it’s not just his memory thing?”

“Grief and denial are strange things.”

***

“Where are you, (y/n)?”

Muichiro knelt down by the headstone, dropping the bouquet next to him. “I hope you’re happy, wherever you are. I’m sorry I forgot about you for so long.”

He takes a deep breath and begins to tell about his day, like he’s been doing every day ever since he regained his memories after that fateful fight at the Swordsmith Village and befriending Tanjiro. He thinks they’d like this version of him much more.

“The demons have been awfully quiet lately,” Muichiro mused. “They say Kibutsuji’s planning something. They’re probably all out to get Nezuko. A big all out war’s going to be coming, I think, and I’m sorry I won’t be able to visit when that happens. So I’ll come more often now.”

He dusted off the stone, staring sadly at the inscription. “I’ll kill the demon who got you. I promise.”

At the price of his own life, (y/n) knew, sitting invisibly next to him, crying transparent tears but he wasn’t to know that.

#Sunny's Works #muichiro x reader #muichiro tokito x reader #muichiro x y/n #muichiro tokito x y/n #muichiro x you #kny x reader #muichiro tokito x you #muichiro angst #muichiro tokito angst

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deadsetobsessions · 1 year ago

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Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.

My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.

Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.

——

Ra’s al Ghul.

Talia al Ghul.

Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.

On a bad day?

Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.

Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.

She was not a baby.

She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.

Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.

“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)

“My apologies, father.”

“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”

Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”

“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”

“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.

On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.

“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”

The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.

“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.

Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.

——

She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.

But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.

Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.

She was still young. A child.

“No.”

“No?”

“He did no wrong.”

“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”

The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.

She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?

“No.”

They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.

——

The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.

Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.

She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.

She learned a valuable lesson that day.

There were things worse than death.

“This is an order, granddaughter.”

The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.

“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”

The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.

——

Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.

She was right to be afraid for herself.

Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.

But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.

The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.

Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.

——

She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.

His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.

But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.

The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.

“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”

She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.

“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.

But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.

——

“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.

She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.

“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”

When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.

She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)

David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.

“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.

The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.

David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.

——

The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.

She did not understand.

The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.

The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.

The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.

The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?

The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.

The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.

The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.

The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.

The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.

The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.

And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.

The girl had given the weapon her own sound.

“Cass—n- ra.”

“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.

“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.

The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.

Cassandra did not want to.

When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.

The girl came.

“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.

The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.

Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.

Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.

“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”

——

Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.

And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?

So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.

Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.

She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.

Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.

David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.

She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.

——

She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.

Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-

Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.

She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.

She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.

She wished…

As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.

She hated him.

She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.

“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.

She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-

“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”

She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.

“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.

She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”

They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.

She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.

She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.

She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.

——

Tim had never had a friend before!

She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)

“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”

His new friend nodded, looking interested.

“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!

She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!

——

When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.

“Do you have to go?”

She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)

“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.

“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.

——

“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.

The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.

“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”

Damian al Ghul cooed.

The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.

She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.

She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.

Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.

She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.

A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.

——

She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)

The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.

Perhaps… she could use the pits?

Her mind turned and turned.

——

“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.

“Ukhti?”

She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”

She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.

It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.

Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.

She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.

She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.

——

Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.

She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.

He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!

——

Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.

Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.

——

Another mission.

She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.

She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.

He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.

She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.

“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”

She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.

She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.

He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.

She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.

——

Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.

He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.

“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.

He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.

——

She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.

Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.

Then, someone new joins.

Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.

Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.

Her memories roar. A child.

He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.

She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.

She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.

Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.

But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.

——

“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”

“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.

She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)

——

“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”

“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.

He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)

——

“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”

She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.

——

She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.

“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.

“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.

The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.

The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.

‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’

Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.

“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”

She smiled, and patted his head.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”

Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”

She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.

(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)

——

She found it.

The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”

——

Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.

The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.

She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)

The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.

When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.

“What…?”

“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.

“It’s you!”

“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”

——

“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.

“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”

Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”

——

Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.

“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-

Shhhlk!

He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.

“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.

‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’

Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.

“Who are you.”

“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.

‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.

‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.

“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”

Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.

“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.

“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.

The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’

“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.

“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”

His sister glanced back and ignored them.

“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)

He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.

——

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larluce · 1 year ago

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Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 (you're here) , PART 7

A little reminder that Merlin was a tree for over a decade before travelling back in time, though he doesn't remember it and also Arthur's traumas of that time.

In Gaius's tower

Gaius: (checking Merlin, after Arthur insisted something was wrong with him) No sickness or injuries. He's perfectly fine, sire.

Merlin: (to Arthur) See? I told you it was nothing.

Arthur: It was not NOTHING. Merlin, you fainted.

Merlin: I just tripped.

Arthur: Because you fainted! And before that you were in pain.

Merlin: I was not!

Arthur: Yes, you were! Everytime we go hunting or camping you have headaches and pains. Don't you dare lie!

Merlin: (sighs) Alright, fine. It's true. I don't know why it happens, but it's not unbearable. And you heard Gaius, there’s nothing fisically wrong with me.

Arthur: As far as we know. (To Gaius) Check him again.

Merlin rolls his eyes. He loves that this Athur is more caring and protective of him, but sometimes it was too much, honestly. He even carried him all the way here like he was some maid in distress.

Gaius: Perhaps is an external factor that it’s causing this. Like some particular smell of a flower, for example?

Merlin: (shakes his head) I don't think so. We're never in the same place. The flora and fauna changes from one place to another.

Gaius: There must be a common factor. When do you feel this pains and headaches exactly?

Merlin: (purses his lips, not wanting to say)

Arthur: Merlin.

Merlin: I don't think is related.

Arthur: Merlin.

Merlin: (sighs) when a living thing dies. Like a bird, or a plant.

Arthur: When a living thing- (between horrified and mad) Merlin, I've been killing animals in your face for WEEKS! And you tell me this NOW?!

Merlin: I'm telling you I don't think it's related! I mean, it can't be related. It's ridiculous. And it never happened to me before.

That's not entirely true but not entirely a lie either. He has always been sensitive to nature. That's why he always hated when Arthur hunted animals just for fun. But he has never been THIS sensitive to the point he almost feel the same pain these creatures feel. Not until he came back in time. Maybe this is another price he has to pay for his deal with the sidhes or it's just a time travel side effect. The pains could be random as far as he knows.

Gaius: Well, there’s only one way to find out.

Later in the forest. Gaius is next to a tree with a chicken in one arm and an ax in the other. Merlin and Arthur look at him, insecure.

Merlin: Is this really necessary?

Gaius: I'm sorry, my boy, but we won't know for sure until we test it. (Apologetic smile) If it makes you feel better, it was going to die anyways for today's dinner.

Merlin: And you're going to cut down these flowers too? 🥺

Gaius: Not in vain. They’re medicine and they'll grow up again.

Merlin: Okay (takes a deep breath) I'm ready.

Arthur: (worried, holding his hand and stroking it comfortingly) Are you sure?

Merlin: (Nods and smiles) I just want to get this over with.

Gaius: Very well. Merlin, turn your back to me. Arthur, hold him in place and look his reaction closely.

They both do as told, Arthur holding Merlin by the shoulders, firmly but gently, his fingers caressing Merlin's neck under the neckerchief.

Arthur: (his face inches from Merlin's) Just look at me, alright?

Merlin: (blushes and just nods)

Gaius: (Kills the chicken)

Merlin: (his face flinches)

Arthur: Are you okay?

Merlin: (nods) It did hurt. But not as bad as I thought it would.

Gaius: We can check animals then. (Makes some notes and then cuts some flowers)

Merlin: (whimpers a little)

Arthur: (concern) Merlin.

Merlin: It's fine. But it hurt a little more for some reason.

Gaius: Interesting... (takes notes) "plants hurt more than animals"

Merlin: (sighs. To Arthur) You can say it.

Arthur: (confused) What?

Merlin: That I'm a petticoat... or a freak... For being like this.

Arthur: That's not true. You just have a... (looking for the right words) an unusual medical condition. Like Morgana with her nightmares.

Merlin: (snorts) At least her condition is useful. How am I supposse to accompany you in your hunting trips if I get like this all the time?

Arthur: Oh, there won't be more hunting trips. They’re cancel. Forever.

Merlin: What?! 😨 But you love hunting trips!

Arthur: (shrugs) It was never really that fun anyways.

Merlin knows that's not true, but doesn't say anything, to moved with Arthur's action he wants to cry. Arthur's holding him close still, their foreheads touching. They lose into each others eyes. But just as they’re leaning closer-

Gaius: (sticks the ax in a tree)

Merlin: AAAAAAARGH! (Screams and curls in pain)

Arthur: (Hugs him in distress) Merlin! (To Gaius furiously) What did you do?!

Gaius: Merlin! (Running to them) My boy, I'm so sorry! I've been cutting other plants and killing some bugs and you didn't seem to feel it. I just thought-

Merlin: (cries histerically) NOOO! (pushes Arthur and Gaius aside and runs to the tree) YOU HAD NO RIGHT! NO RIGHT TO HURT HER LIKE THIS! (Looks at Gaius, face contort in fury but with tears running down his eyes. Then he turns to the tree and takes the ax out of the trunk desperatly. When he finishes he sees the hole in the trunk and falls to his knees, sobing)

Gaius: ... It seems that trees trigger him more than anything. I've never heard of any sickness like this. Perhaps someone put a spell on him. Or a curse.

Arthur: (completely pale)

Gaius: Sire?

Athur: (murmuring, very scared) It... it can't be...

Gaius: Sire, are you alright? You're pale.

Arthur: I have to go. I'm sorry.(runs off)

Gaius: Sire! Sire! (Sighs and sits next to Merlin, who is now just sniffing quietly. He pats his backs, full of guilt) I'm so sorry, Merlin. Does it still hurt?

Merlin: (shakes his head) Not anymore. (caress the bark of the tree with a sad smile) She says she forgives you. She understands why you did it.

Gaius: (surprised) You're talking about the tree? You can speak to it-I mean, her?

Merlin: (nods, just as surprised at his new discovered ability) It's kind of like mind speak. But there is no voice in my head or really words. Just feelings.

Gaius: Incredible!

Merlin: Don't tell Arthur any of this though. He'll realise I have magic for sure. Or just think I'm insane.

Gaius: He seemed very torned up before leaving.

Merlin: (worried) You think he figured it out?

Gaius: I don't think so. I'll have a fake diagnosis for you in the afternoon just in case.

Merlin: (sighs) I can't believe my magic is doing this to me. Maybe I am cursed. (Thinking) What the hell did the sidhes do to me?!

Gaius: You just discover a new power, my boy. Once you know how to control it, it'll be more an advantage than a disadvatage.

#merlin bbc #merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin fic #merlin fanfic #merlin prompt #merthur fic #arthur and merlin #merlin and arthur #merthur fanfic #Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

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eternalstarrlight · 25 days ago

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Star-Crossed

(All I have to say is... I'm so sorry. But also... not really.🙃)

~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~

Author's Note: No shipwar drama in the comments, please! Just enjoy reading this angsty little thing... and shedding a tear... or two. But enough spoilers, read on! 🥀

I do not own ACOTAR, nor any of it's affiliated characters, this is merely fanfiction to gush and cry over. Have fun! 🩵

~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~

Azriel stared at the flames crackling in the hearth of the Town House, the place having become a sort of refuge of late, so much quieter than the House of Wind these days. Peaceful, in a way, with it's long held familiarity and memories.

Do you truly wish to be alone?

Her question rose, unbidden, and he closed his eyes at evocation of her words, the softness of her voice, the way she'd looked when she'd asked him that earlier tonight.

Yes. He'd said, keeping his face blank and unyielding to emotion. But alas, it was no good, not when it came to her, because he saw it in the fathomless depths of her eyes, no clearer than if he was reading her mind.

Liar.

But she hadn't pressed further, merely nodded once, and left him alone. Like he'd proclaimed he'd wanted to be.

His gaze re-met the dimming embers before him, as he consented. She was right. He was a liar. Had to be. If he wasn't, then he'd do something foolish. Something that would take them both down a path that would only lead to pain and destruction and ruin.

He didn't want that for her. She deserved every happiness that this world had to offer. Deserved to be with someone that matched her light and goodness... not wreathed in shadows and darkness.

A charred piece of wood snapped, and Azriel shifted in his chair. The fire having completely died down now, leaving only the faint, lingering smell of smoke. He rose from his seat, making his way to a wide-arched window to peer out into the star-flecked night.

It was Starfall.

Radiant streaks of light danced across the sky as he looked up. As always, it was nothing less than breathtaking, the display often making one reflect and ponder upon their life.

Perhaps he'd been wrong to leave everyone so early, to not stay late until the glow of morning. But even as guilt ate at him for disappearing, he didn't regret his departure... hadn't been able to find it within himself to stay... couldn't bear to watch her eventually find her way to him.

Her mate.

Azriel's heart twisted at that. A daggered reminder that she was never meant to be his. Couldn't be his. And yet, why was it her heart that beckoned him? In the same way the wind sung to his wings to take flight, he could hear her.

He shook his head, partially leaning into the pillar of the window as he crossed his arms. Maybe this was his punishment, for all the atrocities he'd committed, destined to watch her be with someone else for the rest of his life.

Sweat beaded his brow at the thought, making him swallow hard. It would be torture, worse than anything he'd endured until now. The eleven years of imprisonment as a child... Training and serving under Rhysand's father... Seeing Mor bring male after male to her bed for centuries...

A suffering worse than death.

His fists clenched, the scarred and tattered skin stretching tightly across his knuckles. It felt as if he were back in the prison of his childhood again, the darkness creeping in... the cold, dank air suffocating... Leaving only a void. Nothingness.

Would he survive losing her? He wondered, before scoffing at himself. How could he lose something he'd never even had? It was ridiculous, bridging on the edge of insanity. She's not yours. He sharply reminded himself. As if that would help anything. She may not have been his, but he was undeniably, irrevocably hers.

His gaze travelled along the trails of starlight with a wistful half-smile as he acknowledged the truth. Not everyone was allowed epic love stories that rivaled fairytales. No, many were found unworthy and left wanting.

They weren't Rhys and Feyre after all... They were not bound by Fate's hand. Nothing tied them together...

No... for them, the stars had failed to listen... and their dreams went unanswered.

~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~⋆☆⋆~

He didn't know how much time had passed when he heard the clatter of the front door. He tensed, mentally preparing himself for it to be one of his friends checking in on him and demanding answers for why he'd left so abruptly.

But as he turned, making his face impassive to greet them...

There she was.

Her unbound curls windblown, golden in the soft faelight, her chest heaving as if she'd run here, now standing frozen in the entryway.

"Elain," he was unable to keep the surprise from his voice, the flash of shock from his features.

She said nothing for a long moment, long enough where he began to question if his mind was playing tricks on him... if she wasn't really there at all.

"I don't wish to be alone either," she finally spoke with a broken whisper, tone echoing all his own tumultuous feelings.

He held her bright gaze, wondering what had happened to make her come here, assessing her for any harm. But the more he studied her, the more he began to realize that perhaps it wasn't just herself she'd fled here for... perhaps, she'd been worried about him... had somehow known that he...

His throat tightened at the thought. That he'd needed her.

As if on some deep internal instinct, he abandoned his place at the window to make his way to the center of the room before reaching out and offerring her a hand. An invitation, a concession to both his former lie and the yearning to feel her skin against his, "Then don't be."

He didn't miss the way her lips parted in a sigh of relief, her shoulders loosening as her face lit up. A smile curved her mouth as she stepped forward, closer and closer her feet carried her to him, until...

Her hand met his.

And in that moment, everything felt inexplicably, right.

#elriel #elain x azriel #elriel month 2025 #starcrossed #acotar #sjm #sarah j maas #elain archeron #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #elriel month #elrielmonth #pro elriel

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midnight1nk · 2 months ago

Text

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

*GASP*

...

how come the Team does this to me? They get me every. single. time. chat, I don't even want to click on the episode BUT I HAVE TO KNOW IF MY THEORY WAS RIGHT OH WHYYYY

(the following is my live reaction:)

starting off already? well no complaints from me

it's giving "Trust No One" from WOTFI 2023 arc

PFFT HAHAHHAHAHAHA

ok ok ik it's supposed to be serious, but that "wha happen?" audio clip from Mickey Mouse Shorts really caught me off-guard. Who in the Team did that? I want to say thank you

anyway, Mario dude you gotta tell everything, especially to Karen

...well, the minecraft part isn't wrong but he's not telling the whole story

omg 4 really is doing the same thing as 3 did a year ago

which is crazy considering that 4 wasn't in 3's interrogation on Mario. They're so cosmically linked that they came up with the same interrogation method, well it's also Mario we're talking about

yeah, we'll let Karen do the rest

might as well give in, Mario. it ain't worth hiding any secrets

...4?

he's so silly I love him 💙

idk 4, maybe you should be an inspiring VA (4 would be the type of parent who would do all the characters' voices when reading bedtime stories 😌↕️)

oh. oh holy shit.

well at least you're getting it out of your system, Karen. but I do feel genuinely concerned you. I still understand but worried.

the shadows making it look like she's stabbing Mario isn't helping with my concerns

...what was that?

*wheeze* no 4, it's not the IRS

OH we got a sniper here, folks. WPNZ?

AND A ROBOTIC HAND? yeah, we're not just guessing anymore. the anon from my inbox who said that WPNZ may be a cyborg, you nailed it man

Ain't no way, Mario died (he literally cannot)

THE GMOD GUN IS BACK

HOLY SHIT nice save Karen

it's confirmed: 4 doesn't pay his taxes

Mario: "I am..." [*Invincible title card*]

he still got the walkie-talkie.... what the hell did WPNZ say to him?

YEP now we're putting the pieces together

*wheeze* Mario what was that run?

pull some strings, you say? perhaps... CONNECTIONS?

GET EM GIRLS /ref

secretive, ay?

what's with the dark room?

*flashback* I just remembered a traumatizing experience in my past, hang on I have to stim and I'll feel better. /ref

damn Mario ok

oh wait, I recognize this animation style. Anaidon, did you work on this scene? :D

PFFT THE DISTRACTION DANCE FROM THE HENRY STICKMAN SERIES OMG

I did not see that coming, ok who in the Team did that bc that was good haha. nostalgia go brrrrrrrrrr

No, WPNZ, it really did work ngl

oh shit

yep it's a cyborg hand if it's compatible with an actual arm

Gear up, it's for a swell battle!!!

FLAMETHROWER?! even Mario's not liking this

no, 4! this isn't Mario, it's Mr. WPNZ

😦

*pauses episode* ...chat, can you do something for me?

hold me back, and don't let go until I'm done. ready?

*ahem*

...WPNZ YOU SON OF A BITCH WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU AND I SWEAR YOU'RE NOT GOING TO LIVE TO SEE TOMORROW— *10 minutes and a nuke explosion later*

ok I'm good.

4 I'm going to need you to wake up buddy. c'mon you can't die, especially not you. 4 don't do this to me, you can't. you faced way worse stuff before, this can't hold you down now. your friends, your family, they're waiting for you to come back home. you can't leave them. 4 please

WE GOT A PULSE OH THANK GOD

IT'S A WEAK ONE THO, WE NEED TO GET HIM TO A DOCTOR NOW

I KNOW YOU DIDN'T MEAN TO, IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT 😭

at least Karen could finally get some answers

...a surprise?! OH HELL NO that guy nearly got them killed for ENTERING, it's a trap for sure

LET'S GO GET YOUR KIDS BACK but do be careful, we still don't know what we're up against

😭

get 4 outta there!! oh god, is the Crew gonna see 4 in critical condition? Beeg4? *head in hands*

I swear the Team is out to get me (also Mario carrying out 4 strangely reminded me of a scene from a fic I read long ago)

and ofc the whole building on fire goddammit

(btw that fall reminded me of the insomniac spider-man teasers ifykyk)

no Karen, hun you aren't. you're like one of the best parents of the entire show

you're trying to be better and give your kids the life you didn't get to have, that pretty much makes you a good parent overall

YEAH LOCK IN

alright, the moment of truth

huh? radio interference?

I FUCKIN KNEW IT YEP IT'S CONFIRMED

MR. WPNZ IS KAREN'S EX LOVER AND FATHER OF THE KIDS

(well nicc, looks like you get you keep your script after all)

oh, so he's pretty much a psycho, good to know *starts curb-stomping him*

I TOLD YOU ALL THE "HALF PINTS* NICKNAME WAS TOO SPECIFIC

what kinda monster? oh the mentally-messed-up yandere ass one, yeah that kinda monster

HE'S AT THEIR HOUSE?! FUCKFUCKFUCK

ok yeah I see how it is. violence isn't enough, time to commit crimes :)

no, don't end it there. please don't

*flips desk* AND THE MUTED-COLOR CREDITS OH C'MON

looks like I got something else right, it was a mini-arc. it's all within the math

Congrats to daekim_26 for your art being featured at the end credits! 🎉 hey, I recognize this, Ben reblogged this over on Twitter. ig the Team really liked your art

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

I. I'm just speechless omg. Like what am I supposed to say to that? Shadow, is this what you meant when you said we're not prepared for this? I need to walk out a sec, hang on.

ok I'm back. I guess first off, Team, wow. What an episode, it is absolutely insane how good it all was. Especially the writing and the voice acting for Karen, it tugged on my heart strings. And Anaidon, I KNEW YOU ANIMATED THAT SCENE haha!

Genuninely, bravo 👏👏👏 and my calculations were right after all

Actually, for me to post my theory hours before the episode was dropped, I'm surprised how much I got it right. Most of it, yeah, though I didn't expect how insane Mr. WPNZ is. More so doing it for himself and not the corporation, but still a lot of dedication was put into this. And he got a robotic arm! Not exactly like Clench (who has a mind of its own and can talk) but definitely advanced. So, the point could still stand that the tech, skills, and resources were based on his job at Hitman Inc.

Poor Karen, you can tell she's been very desperate in finding her kids by the voice acting alone. You can't blame her for going to these lengths. Like I said, understandable, but I do still feel concerned for her. And then, her psycho ex on top of everything smh, I won't be able to handle it.

And you can't even blame Mario either. He did the mission thinking it would help Karen, and Mr. WPNZ told him what to do. Then with the prosthetic taking Mario's arm, it wasn't even him. It was WPNZ, but I do feel like Mario's going to feel so guilty for what he did to 4.

Wrong things for the right reason 😔↕️

Speaking of 4, NO NOT MY BOY. Chat, I'm not okay. Like I knew he wasn't going to die, he's literally one of the main characters, but my heart dropped at that scene. Through the floor and 6 feet underground. I did ask for 4 angst, yes, but damn. Can you imagine how the Crew would react? Since 3 & 4 are cosmically linked, would 3 feel that 4's in critical condition? Oh Beeg, 4's his dad dude. Beeg may be pretty tough but he still cares for 4, hope he gets a bit of revenge for it. (and a sprinkle of mar4 angst)

...am I going to bring in goop!4 into this?

Who do you take me for? ofc I am. As I mentioned, the parasite would still be in 4, and because of what happened to him, it might be the necessary trigger for it to activate. After everything that had happened to him, the explosion really knocked him out. This is taken seriously, this mini-arc starts really close to the IGBP anniversary.... I wouldn't be surprised if the Team tease for the future goop!4 arc. Not immediately after the Hitman arc, far later. Baby steps, chat. If the Team drops at least ONE frame, a SECOND, about goop!4, I'll take it!

Anyway, since it is a mini-arc, we're not getting another teaser or a trailer. BUT we are getting an episode special, so we'll have to look out for that. In meantime, that's all from me. I'll see yall next time and remember, folks: numbers always go first!

man, Ben. I gotta say, the thumbnail you made, it was a cool reference to the Parasite movie poster. Awesome job!

...huh.

#oh. oh my god.#smg4 #smg4 spoilers #smg4 karen #smg4 mario #ink reviews #SPECTACULAR 👏#I WAS (mostly) RIGHT LET'S GOOOO #SO excited to see what's next!!!#but lowkey kinda scared considering y'know...#damn we only got a episode special left

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lovesuhng · 11 months ago

Text

last night

w.c: 1.1k friends to lovers, a little suggestive, mention of drunk sex, mention of johnny being big

Mental note: never drink again.

You had definitely overdone it the previous night. You didn’t often go to parties, so you enjoyed last night a lot. You hoped you hadn't done anything stupid.

But that wasn’t the case.

You struggled to open your eyes, the sunlight disturbing her vision. Gradually, you recognized that this wasn’t your room. You also felt something holding you by the waist and quickly realized you were being hugged. Seeing that you were next to your best friend, you just snuggled closer to his chest and closed your eyes again.

But you felt something was wrong. You opened your eyes quickly and looked under the blanket you shared with your best friend. Your heart almost stopped when you realized you were both naked. Panic took over your body, making you scream and jump out of bed, waking Johnny, who screamed along with you.

“What’s going on? Why are you screaming like that? My head is going to explode,” said Johnny, putting his hands on his temples, trying to ease the pain.

“For God's sake, Johnny, tell me this didn’t happen.” You pointed at the two of you, trying to explain what “this” was.

“Well… if you want me to lie to calm you down: we didn’t have sex. But if you want the truth, we did.”

“AND HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT SO CALMLY?! This shouldn’t have happened! Look at the mess we made!” You paced back and forth, nervous, running the hands through your hair, gesticulating wildly. “Seriously, what’s going to happen to our friendship now? How are we going to explain this to everyone? How am I going to look at you? Johnny, are you listening to me?!” You stopped walking, putting your hands on your hips, looking at your friend who looked adorable with his sleepy face, messy hair and tattoos on display. You couldn’t deny, he was ridiculously handsome. He had a mischievous smile on his face, watching you (practically devouring you with his eyes). You were ready to say something else when you realized Johnny was looking at you like that because you were completely naked. Your face turned bright red with embarrassment and quickly pulled one of the sheets from the bed, making Johnny laugh, who then made a move to get up, making you scream “no” because you knew he was also naked.

“Can you stop screaming?”

“Wa-wait, I’ll change clothes and wait for you in the living room so we can talk.” If you can remember where they are. Seeing you looking around the room for your clothes, Johnny said:

“Your clothes are in the living room and you better wear one of my shirts.” Confused, you did what your friend said. Your mental question was answered when, upon reaching the living room and grabbing your shirt, you found it torn in half. Some flashes of what happened last night came to mind, but you couldn’t remember much.

After putting on your clothes (or what was left of them), you looked for some hangover medicine, since you knew that apartment better than anyone and Johnny was taking a while, probably taking a shower. After drinking some water, you felt a bit sore. That reminded you of how big your friend was. You felt embarrassed and started remembering moments from the night.

Upon entering Johnny’s apartment, you were laughing at something very silly, but given your state, it was the funniest thing that had happened. He had his hand on your shoulder and you were hugging his waist. It was comical to see Johnny, with his towering height, leaning on you, perhaps the reason you were laughing to the point of tears.

You knew you couldn’t support Johnny for long, given your condition, ended up stumbling and falling onto the sofa, taking Johnny down with you, causing another laughter crisis. But the laughter died down when you realized how close your faces were. The intense exchange of glances only ended because Johnny pressed his lips to yours. This peck became a hot, desperate kiss. Your hands tangled your friend's freshly cut hair, while one of his hands firmly gripped your thigh and the other held your nape, trying to bring you closer.

You needed to separate to catch your breath, but when Johnny saw your reddened, parted lips, he didn’t take long to kiss you again. The kiss was intense, making you give a slight moan when Johnny lightly bit your lower lip, which was enough to drive him crazy. He simply tore your shirt off, impatient. You were a little startled.

“John-”

“Sorry, my dear,” he said, kissing down your neck, making you close your eyes. “But I’m desperate for you.”

He separated from you, stood up on the sofa and gently pulled you up, starting another kiss. You felt his hands roam your body, passing by your butt, lightly squeezing, and moving to your thighs, giving two light taps in a silent request for you to jump up. With ease, he was carrying you to the bedroom without breaking the kiss. Gently, he laid you on the bed, only separating to take off his shirt. Johnny saw your desire-filled gaze roaming his sculpted body and smiled. He was ready to give you the best night of your life. Too bad you didn’t remember much of it.

“__”

You were startled, dropping the glass into the sink. Johnny approached and stood beside you, knowing you were very embarrassed.

“This was a mistake.”

“It wasn’t and you know it.”

“Johnny, stop it!” You turned to him, who was already looking at you. “We’re friends. FRIENDS. And friends don’t do this kind of thing. I don’t even remember much of what happened. We were drunk and that’s what pisses me off the most.” You tried to look away, but Johnny held your chin with his thumb and forefinger, making you look at him, then slid his hand to your cheek.

“Hey, look at me. I agree that having sex drunk wasn’t the best choice, but, please, don’t say it was a mistake.” You could feel the sincerity in his voice, especially since it was trembling, as if he might cry at any moment. “I’ve always wanted you, and the way we loved each other last night, I know you want me too.”

“Don’t play with me, John.”

“I would never do that because you mean everything to me.”

Unlike last night, this kiss was warm and full of love, as if trying to convey many things at once. When you separated, Johnny looked into your eyes and said:

“See? We complete each other. And if you want, I can give you a better night than last night so you can remember everything, Ouch!” He was interrupted by a slap you gave his arm.

“All in good time, you perverted!” You laughed at his expression of pain. “But, I agree, I’ve always wanted you and will always want you.”

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dalliancekay · 4 months ago

Text

I have to go

So I was thinking this weekend about Good Omens (surprise surprise). And why I relate so much more to Aziraphale than to Crowley even if on paper, I'd have sworn Crowley is a lot more relatable.

And then I had a nightmare about my family and something clicked. Now look, my family is not awful. I mean not so awful anymore. My bully of a grandma died when I was 19 (20?) and my youngest brother was 9 and my alcoholic, often violent father left us and was never found until police came to confirm the body in a mortuary was his 6 years later. The rest of my family is a bit religious, a bit homophobic, full of body-shamers but nothing you would be particularly surprised by.

But anyway, I left them. I cannot vouch for how conscious a decision it was, back when I was fresh out of high school and announced I will go abroad for 6 months or a year (reader, it's been quite a bit longer than that). But I left.

And yep, I am made to feel guilty (and I do feel a bit guilty sometimes) about it when I visit once a year and I am asked to stay and consider my values and goals in life etc. SO ANYWAY

I guess I just feel like I relate to Aziraphale who was always aware that he was different, that he saw things differently, that he knew what was happening was not right and had no power to change it.

And he got the opportunity to leave and he did. Overtime, in many more ways than one.

And yet, when F15 happened, he was the one again who had to leave, to make a decision, to do something; a very hard decision but he had to go. And not to a place he loved. Rather quite the opposite. Somewhere he despised but had to choose over something worse (perhaps a specific threat, perhaps simply more uncertainty). Something that would hurt the only being he truly loves.

Angel!Crowley is an innocent with a lot questions when we see him in Before the Beginning. We don't know what happened during his Fall, we don't know how much he has changed by then, but we know he is changed now.

He was cast out, thrown out by the people who were supposed to love him, who were supposed to forgive. And they did not.

And I understand how many people relate to that. Coming out for who you are and being told you are wrong, bad, that you have to go go... and being thrown out.

And then the being you desperately love has to go too.

I think Crowley understands though. But I also understand how it hurts him.

And above all, I think Aziraphale is incredibly brave for making the decision to return and try to make a difference. Even if the difference was to be to make one more lonely angel like Muriel smile with his stories, I think he would have tried. But he will achieve a LOT more. And Crowley (and their love) will be indispensable to him when he does.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens thoughts #good omens 2 #good omens 3 #kaypost

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gliphyartfan · 7 months ago

Note

Your dear double anon has returned

Anyway, I hope you had a good night's sleep and breakfast, because I'm back with more thoughts on LU I had this at 4am when I couldn't sleep (that's exactly why this sounds so far-fetched and mixed, perhaps a little meaningless(?)

I've been thinking a lot about Villain Chain lately, you know, by cloudninetonine. Also in humans are hylian space orc reader but that comes later and thinking a lot about cloudninetonine basically since I reread his/her mess au.

This is all set in mess au, in fact.

So far I have only found three writings that involve them and I have not found any more, which is a shame, because I'm interested in the concept of when a hero is a villain and a villain is a hero, I've always been a fan of role reversals in any context.

And one of the writings I read was about how they became like this when their guide/Reader/player died and they made a huge statue for them as a tomb and they see the guide/Reader/player from the original chain and kidnap them to maintain it and so on (this no has minimal relevance, I just woke up very talkative, although I'm sure I sent you messages yesterday)

Yeah, wrong, but I've kept them in mind because, remember the yandere version of cloudninetonine's chain? Where they're older and guide/reader/player isn't really their guide/reader/player but they think it is? Well, here I came up with an interesting continuation.

guide/reader/player is not really the guide from the original chain either.

Whether it's Dark Link or Villain Chain, they corner the reader and are like 'aha! You have no escape, little guide' and with a blank expression guide simply (when the adrenaline and fear have passed), grabs the blade of the sword that is pointing at their neck and bends it.

Here is the first clue that something is wrong, if it is Dark Link, whether by this action or not, he realizes that there is something wrong with the guide, it is not as he remembers it. If it is Villain Chain, there is bewilderment because the guide who described that shadow that plans to betray them did not resemble the guide they had before them who was not affected by magic, potions or weapons.

is not the guide that Dark Link remembers or that he described to Villain Chain because it turns out that is not the guide either, Reader is a guide but not of that specific chain.

Either because Hylia was confused or she searched for a stronger guide/Reader to stop Dark Link she simply looked for a Reader/Guide who she felt had even a modicum of power over the Hylians and found Guide/Reader from Human are Hylians Space Orc.

But that's where my train of thought ends.

Looking back after getting a proper night's sleep and reading this out loud, I feel like this was so far-fetched but my tired, sleep-deprived brain couldn't figure it out in time.I'm not particularly satisfied with these ideas, but perhaps I'll salvage something for the future.

Or maybe I'm thinking of ideas for a Villain Guide/Reader/player getting to know everyone, seeing as how no one has really done anything like this and some players can be evil in video games.

—double anon (since you already know my problem with Tumblr and the fact that I have to send at least two messages for one to arrive, I wasn't sure if I should give myself a name because my attention span It's null and void and I bounce from fandom to fandom every week. and I disappear the moment I decide to give myself a anon name, but I've been paying attention to Linked Universe for over a month, and I think that's reason enough to know that I won't disappear anytime soon, although I have your Tumblr profile saved in my Google bookmarks anyway so I'll still come visit even if it disappears)

This is a doozy. (Quite the long one, tad overwhelming. 😅) I’m not that familiar with villain chain? Let’s see what I can do with what I can figure out.

One thing I realized is that When Reader sees how the Villain Chain practically worships them, they’re baffled.

To this Reader, adventure games are meant to be just that, games.

The idea that she’d be revered as an actual deity is unsettling, and she’s torn between keeping up the act to protect herself or leveling with them. If she lets on that she isn’t their Guide, the Chain only becomes more obsessed, deciding she needs saving from whatever memories she’s ‘lost.’

And if she realized the Chain has suffered from the loss of THEIR Guide, Reader tries to gently reason with them, perhaps offering compassion?

Big mistake sadly. The moment they show even a hint of softness, the Chain decides Reader has truly “returned” to them. They double down on their devotion, misinterpreting kindness as affection, and it fuels their possessiveness.

To jog ‘memories,’ the Villain Chain might recreate locations or scenes from the past with the old Guide.

They could go to absurd lengths ya know, clearing whole areas, painting fake backdrops, even dressing up in the same worn, ragged clothes they had when they met the Guide. Reader plays along, but she’s constantly trying to figure out an escape plan, as she now knows nothing she says or does will convince them she’s not their Guide.

The Chain takes turns watching Reader, monitoring her behavior for signs that she’s “returning” to them. This means Reader can hardly go anywhere without someone at her side or in the shadows. Even a sigh or a glance could be analyzed endlessly.

Twilight would try to remind Reader of the old days by isolating her in forests or mountainous regions, telling tales of their past escapades.

He thinks being in these familiar places will awaken her ‘true self.’ But when this doesn’t work, he only becomes more frustrated, insisting that Reader must remember and that her real memories are just buried.

Hyrule would repeatedly try to heal Reader, convinced they’re suffering from some curse.

Every time Reader resists or tells him to stop, he assumes it’s the curse talking and only becomes more insistent, going as far as sneaking healing spells while she’s asleep or distracted.

#i’m not familiar enough to come up with better ideas #yandere linked universe #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #lu wind #lu sky #lu time #lu legend #lu warriors #lu wild #lu four #lu hyrule #lu twilight #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x oc #gliphy answers anon #Double anon!

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tmnt-obsessed · 1 year ago

Text

Knight in Shining Red Armour | Bay!Raphael x Fem!Reader

Jay is Reader's recent toxic ex who just can't seem to let her go, and Raph isn't very impressed :)) Also not proof read. Enjoy lovelies!

Warning: Mental, verbal, and physical abuse from a partner, stalking, threatening with knife

You couldn't handle Jay's behavior any longer.

You gave him plenty of chances to change, to become the man you remembered being in love with. Of course, it never happened. His behavior continued to take a turn for the worse.

Slowly over the two years you'd been with him he morphed into someone who quite frankly terrified you.

At first the concerning behavior was so small; it wasn't even a concern yet. Frequently taking peeks at your phone when he thought you wouldn't notice, or asking where you were randomly throughout the day. At first these were easily brushed off. You glanced at his phone occasionally too out of pure curiosity, and you also thought about he throughout your day.

Of course, that was just the beginning. Over time he slowly became more... scary, but you were so blind to it. He began trying to control you, subtly of course. Suggesting which jewelry, you should wear and evening telling you your shoes didn't look good so you should wear the one's he liked. He'd order for you in restaurants, but it was never what you wanted, and he wouldn't let you ask for it to be changed. You thought that he just wanted you to look your best and be a gentleman that ordered for his woman. Oh, how wrong you were, it should have been your wake-up call.

The worst mistake you made was moving in with him six months ago. He completely changed after that.

You thought Raph had a temper, but Jay's was so much worse. He'd get mad over the smallest things, and once he was it was honestly terrifying. He'd break just about everything in his path -everything that wasn't his of course- and at the end it was pretty much your job to clean up. Since, "If you hadn't made me mad, I wouldn't have done it in the first place."

He didn't want you leaving the house without him unless it was for work. Of course, he didn't know about the boys, so it was one of your main reasons for your fights. On top of that, he refused to let any of your family or friends over. He wouldn't even let you have an apartment warming.

Despite all that he'd never lay a hand on you so you thought perhaps it was fixable. Which led you to telling Jay it was therapy or you were leaving. You made him do his own therapy and on top of it, couples therapy for the two of you.

The next big mistake you made was ignoring the sweet therapist when she was really trying to be a girl's girl and get you to run from him as fast as you could. Of course, she didn't say it like that but it's what she meant. Why you ignored it you don't know, especially since at this time your feelings for Jay were fading fast while your feelings for a certain red loving ninja were growing fast.

And just a few weeks ago Jay had done the absolute unthinkable. Something that had opened your eyes and forced you to end the relationship.

You had once again got into a screaming match when you tried to leave without him to see the boys in the guise of spending time April at a club. It wasn't anything new, but you felt bad for the poor neighbors who surely could hear and had to endure it.

Then he'd done it. He slapped you across the face, and hard. He held back nothing. You were stunned and almost immediately you started to cry. Turning to leave, but he had stopped you trying to apologize.

When you weren't having it and told him the relationship was over and to let you go his rage came back tenfold. He had started beating you furiously, he had almost killed you choking you out.

In fact, if it hadn't been for your burly, retired veteran neighbor who had literally broken down your door when he heard your cries for help, you honestly might have died then.

You couldn't be more grateful for him and remember him dragging Jay off you as if he were a ragdoll and giving him a good few sucker punches to the face, all while your other neighbors -a sweet old couple that baked you things occasionally watching in horror. The man covering his wife's eyes as he called 911 and then it was all black from there.

Luckily you hadn't spent too long in the hospital. You had a couple fractured ribs, a broken nose, a broken arm, and were bruised to hell but all things that could heal at home.

When questioned by the police you told the truth and pressed charges, glad to know your boyfriend - ex boyfriend was behind bars and would be charged with attempted murder among other things. Well... would be since your previous mentioned veteran neighbor had broken his nose and put a fracture in his jaw. Satisfying information.

After all that you begged them not to tell the boys the real reason you were in the hospital, to which they agreed and let everyone involved in the case know not to get lose lipped and stick with it being a mugging. Mostly because you feared Jay wouldn't live to see the court date, but also because they would say I told you so. Well probably not, but they would think it. None of your friends liked Jay, but they really didn't like him.

Once you were out you were allowed to go back home which was surprisingly cleaned up. Learning it was from the efforts of your neighbors which warmed your heart. In turn you had ordered out and purchased desserts for all three of them the rest of the week.

The boys had fretted over you since then. Not a single one of them letting you walk to the lair or home alone. You also received text messages from them throughout the day, asking how you were doing and if you were alright. It warmed you heart even if it was becoming slightly annoying. You couldn't be mad though, it showed just how much they cared for you.

Raph himself seemed worse than the others though. He had wanted you to tell him if you were making any late-night runs to the store or even April's place. You thought you might have even seen a glimpse of his red mask on the building across the street when you were looking out the window once. It made you believe that -just maybe-he returned the budding feelings you had for him.

Now though, now you had wished you had texted him that you were making a quick night trip to the store. Wished you had asked if he'd follow you like your knight in shining red armor and make sure you'd be safe. Because no one, not a single person thought it'd be a good idea to tell you that Jay was out on bail.

Of course you'd be his first target. Why wouldn't you be? He had followed you when you left your apartment. He had struck when there wasn't anyone nearby, not even a car driving in the street, before he dragged you into an alleyway.

Which led you to now, terrified and shaking with a knife pressed to your neck. He was saying something, but you couldn't really process it. Just knowing his voice was dripping with hatred.

Your head was running a mile a minute and yet it felt so empty. You were trying to think back on the self-defense training you were forced to go through. The only thing coming to mind was his voice saying, "Find an opening."

He always said that. An opening to run or an opening to attack it didn't matter. "Whatever feels right" he'd said.

Nothing felt right. There was no opening. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place. The run-down brick of the building behind you digging into your back and his cold, sharp knife digging into your throat. This was it. You were going to die. You felt the tears welling up in your eyes...

But then- a laugh.

A laugh from a woman and soon a man followed suit with his own laughter, they didn't sound far from the opening of the alleyway. It had Jay swiveling his head to look, his grip loosing on the knife. This was it. This was your opening.

You stomped on his foot as your hand came up to his forearm holding the knife to shove him back. It didn't seem like he was prepared for you to fight back because he stumbled back easily, almost falling on his ass.

"Should I attack them, then?"

"You can. Or you can run. Whatever feels right."

"How do I know what 'feels right'."

"Trust me, you'll know what feels right half pint."

Raphael was right. You know what feels right immediately. In fact, you were already sprint away, practically tripping over your own two feet as you rounded the corner out of the alley way, before your mind even recognize the flight instinct.

Clumsily rummaging through your bag to find you phone without ever taking your eyes away from the sidewalk. The last thing you wanted was to trip over something or run into something. Especially not when a loud, furious call of your name and the stomping of footsteps catching up to you had your heart freezing.

You grip onto your cell phone once you find it dragging it out.

"h-Hey Google/Siri" Your breath is shaking, and your surprised you even got the words out. More surprised your phone recognized them.

"Call 'Hot Head'!"

"I'm sorry, do you want me to call "Hot Head" mobile?"

"Fucking yes! C-call him please you fucking-!" Your heart drops when you feel a hand swipe your back, forcing your legs to work overtime to get you the fuck away from him. Sobbing with just how close he had gotten to grabbing you.

"Got it. Calling 'Hot Head' mobile." You could strangle technology sometimes you swear. You're literally fighting for your life and she's over here taking her sweet ass time.

Each ring has your stomach dropping, and the next swipe against your back has your heart in your throat making you realize you had to try something else.

Suddenly changing direction into an alleyway that has Jay slipping to follow you. Throwing trash cans, and other small items close enough that will hopefully slow him down.

Your body feeling instant relief when you finally hear that gruff, deep accented voice.

"Hey short pint, miss me already?" He sounds cocky with his mild flirt, but you could quickly feel his shift to concern. You haven't even spoken a word, but you knew he could hear your heavy breaths and it didn't help that a sob is quick to escape you shortly after he spoke.

"What's wrong?" You could hear him shuffle -likely standing up- along with the concerned voices of his brothers. "Is she hurt?! OH MY GOD IS SHE DYING?!?!-" You can hear him grunt as he likely shoves his hand in Mikey's face to push him away, effectively cutting him off. Usually it'd make you laugh, but not now.

"R-Raph please! I-I- he's going to kill me t-this time! I- I can't- he-"

"Slow down Princess, where are ya?" It seemed like he a plethora of other questions on the tip of his tongue, but he's a man that can prioritize.

You try to think your mind hazy. Trying to look at the signs as you run. "I-I'm on Madison a-avenue! i-I'll head towards central park but-"

Your scream when Jay actually grabs ahold of your hoodie, dragging you back towards him. You start fighting against him, and screaming as loud as you possibly can. Trying to take your hoodie off without dropping your phone.

Him waving his knife around in a threatening way has you ditching your phone and your hoodie, barely getting your cast through your sleeve and scrambling to get away yet again. Heart clenching with the worried voices and words of the brothers that are quickly fading the faster you run away.

Without his voice you feel as if there is no hope for you now but no, you just have to head for the park. You told him that you would. He is coming for you; you know he is. You know he'd never let anything bad happen to you if he could stop it, and he's on his way to stop it now. You just have to hold out a little longer.

You keep telling yourself that. A little longer. Just a little longer.

Before you know it, you're stumbling into central park. You're muscles are numb, your lungs burn and no matter how hard you try you're slowing down. You already weren't fast enough to outrun Jay at your best.

So, you steal your nerves. Whipping around and throwing your hands in the air as a way of surrender.

"Wait! Jay wait, please wait! l-Let's talk about this! a-About us! O-Okay?"

You can't fight him off, not when he has a knife. So maybe you can stall. Maybe somewhere in his twisted, dark heart he does feel something for you. Even if it's just enough to take pity on you.

He scoffs but opens his mouth to speak. It seems that he does.

"Why? You obviously don't love me anymore! After everything I gave you! After everything I've done for you! You were willing to throw it all away for one mistake! I said I was sorry, but you couldn't accept that! I hadn't meant to hit you; you just made me mad! Don't you know how much I love you? If you even loved me, you would have understood that and dropped the charges... but you didn't. I had to get my mother to bail me out because you don't love me!"

You sob, squeezing your eyes shut as your whole body shudders. You can see it now, the clear manipulation. His attempts to gaslight you- even now! Hands shaking as you nod.

"y... you're right. I'm s-s-sorry Jay. I love you- i-I love you so much- I-I'll drop the charges, okay? I... I shouldn't have made you m-mad- It was all my fault a-and I'm s-so- so sorry. Okay?" You didn't mean a damn word. The words only stumbling out of you for your own survival. Hoping this would quell him enough to not want to murder you in cold blood.

It seemed it was working. He slowly lowered his knife as your words processed in his mind. The hatred from his face leaving and being replaced with love.

No, not love. Pride. He felt proud and it made you sick to your stomach. It made you realize he never loved you; he was just proud with himself whenever he got his way when it came to you. When he couldn't get his way when it came to you, that's when he got mad.

You tremble as he opens his arms, his voice inviting you to come over for a hug to make up.

You don't want to. You don't want to be anywhere near him, in fact the space between you now isn't nearly enough for your liking. You're afraid you'll have too though. To keep this rouse up, making hesitant steps toward him.

You find you don't have to. In fact, you can't, it's a physical impossibility to get anywhere near him. Not with the wall of scutes in front of you. Crying with relief from that bright flash of Red you see at the top of the ginormous shell.

There his is. Raphael in all his glory. Your knight in shining red armor. You feel like you can breathe, you feel like years of stress is just melting away. The sob that hit you as your legs wobble and straight up give out. You're safe, finally. You're alive and will continue to be as such.

You expect to hit the ground when your legs give way, but somehow are not very surprised to be caught. Turning to look up at the terrapin in purple.

"(Y/n)? Are you alright?" He's pulling his goggles down before you can even respond. You just know he's already using that thing to scan you and make sure.

"y-Yeah I-" You honestly don't know what to say. You feel so overwhelmed now that it's over. Everything feels so distant and foggy. As if you're having an out of body experience in a dream.

Although a scream is all it takes to pull you right back down to Earth and in your body it seems. Look over to see the absolute fury on Raphael's face.

He had one of Jay's arms in his hand, making it look far smaller than it actually should be; although that was hardly the problem as it was definitely misshapen. Leo and Mikey trying to pull him back, trying to get him to just "Stop!" and "Think for a moment Raphael!"

Your body moves before your brain has a chance to think about it. Waltz right up and placing one of your much smaller hands on his gripping Jay's wrist, the other naturally landing on the forearm of his same arm.

"R-Raph please. i-It's not worth it."

His beautiful green eyes dart to yours, his expression immediately softening from a look of pure rage - dare you say even murderous. Eyes swimming with conflict as he looks back towards Jay. Trying to keep his resolve to tear him to shreds.

"Raphael please. He's not worth it. Please just... just carry me home. Please."

His full name has his whole head snapping to you. His resolve fleeting faster than it ever has before as he reluctantly lets go of Jay's arm. Letting him drop to the ground as he shakes his brothers off who seem relieved.

"Looks like ya've been saved by the bell, bitch. Don't let me catch sight of ya anywhere near (Y/n), ya hear? Or next time there won't be any bell that can save ya."

He huffs before he's turning towards you. Any leftover aggression completely gone as he bends over and scoops you right up off the ground and snug against his chest bride style.

Ignoring the full-on rant Donnie starts up about possible injuries and how he should be more careful lifting you after an event like that.

"You're fine, aren't you Princess?"

He's looking down at you, practically whispering the words. You can just tell Donnie's nagging got under his skin. He looks a bit concerned even if he won't let his show through his whispered breath.

"I'm fine.. now that you're here. My knight in shining red armor."

The dark green that spreads across his face is satisfying; his gaze that flickers away from yours is far more satisfying.

Yes, you would always be fine as long as you had your knight in shining red armor.

Should this have a part two? I feel like this should have a part two..

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2014 #2016 tmnt #raph x reader #raphael x reader #raph #raphael #raphael bayverse #tmnt x reader

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depresssant · 1 year ago

Text

'geto would burn in the fiery sea of hell if it meant only he would be the one thing your heart-stopping eyes could see'

warning!!!! : yandere is a warning in itself 💀, yandere!geto, unrequited love, kidnapping extremely suggestive themes, idk what else 😭

also reposted bc i accidenly deleted the first one 😬

to say that geto suguru was helpless was an understatement.

he was at a lost, and it felt like the entire world was against him. so many conflicting thoughts battled with him day by day, and time came to a stop the second he watched that bullet go through riko's head. that helpless feeling of not being able to save what was dear to you... to be able to not do anything except for watch as something slipped out of his grasp⏤he felt like it was happening all over again.

dark thoughts⏤ones that only you seemed to get rid of⏤dropping him over the edge plagued him like a disease with every twist and turn. these were the dark thoughts that only you washed away with your warm touch and loving smile.

but now?

now you were cold and hostile.

all because of a damn rejection.

geto knew his decade long friendship with you would never be the same after that fateful night you confessed to him. that night⏤just a week and a half after riko's death. he had rejected you. geto was scared. what if you died just like riko? you were a sorcerer with threats that had you walking across the line of life and death. what if you, too, withered from his grasp?

but he supposed you already did.

bit by bit, you had started to ignore him. you were clearly distancing yourself. you knew he was going through internal struggles, and while you once would've been there right by his side, you weren't this time. you just... stop talking to him, acting like he was the plague, and a single look would kill you.

it killed him.

it killed geto to see you hurting because of him, and it hurt even more that he wasn't able to help. the raven haired man was bitter and angry at the time. he should've understood that you were just trying to give him space after realizing your confession wasn't thrown in at the best time. you were trying to help him in the best way possible while hurting yourself, and he was too fucking stupid to realize it.

geto had stormed into your dorm for an explanation as to why you were ignoring him. the worst fight of his life occurred that very night where you told him you never wanted to see him again. so he had granted you your wish.

thinking back at it, both of you were hurting. riko's death and the following had affected you just as much as it had affected geto, but he was too selfish to realize he wasn't alone. he was too conceited to realize that even when keeping your distance from him, you were still there for him. he was just too proud to reach out.

...

well... that would never happen again.

he furrowed his brows but he said nothing as he watched you struggle against the chains with a look of panic on your beautiful, beautiful, face. geto had plenty of time to reflect on his behavior⏤to sort through his feelings and plan, and now you were finally back in his arms.

with a sigh of relief, said arms pulled you into a suffocating hug. he held you so tightly he felt like his arms would cramp up, but that didn't matter. all he wanted to do was just crawl into your skin, become one with you, so you two would never apart again. he wanted to kiss those pretty lips of yours until his own became bruised and swollen. he wanted to hold you like this for the rest of eternity because the sound of your heartbeat was the best type of music he had ever listened to.

this was wrong, some part in him screamed. holding you captive like this just for himself was immoral and evil, but... all for himself? geto would burn in the fiery sea of hell if it meant only he would be the one thing your heart-stopping eyes could see. those eyes... those eyes pulled him in like a moth to a flame, turning him into a person he never thought he'd become. but perhaps that was one of the million things he loved about you.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" you hissed, pressed up against him, and geto felt completed. "you're insane! how the hell do you... do you⏤"

"i love you."

his hands were all over your body frantically, leaving a blazing trail of fire in every place that he caressed, and it was like he was trying to become one with you.

"... geto... what is this? why are you doing this?"

lavender eyes as alluring as a violent ocean rested on yours. "it's a form of acceptance. your confession? darling, i accept your love. i want your love... i need it."

"that was in high school! it was just a silly crush!" your brows furrowed in anger at first, but your expression crumbled. a face that you once adored now looked down at you with stinging eyes, fangs out and all.

"don't lie to me." geto grabbed a hold of your inner thighs, pushing you down onto the bed and nuzzling into your neck as if he would die if he didn't. you'd be lying if you said that you didn't like it. it was something you had been waiting for, for a very long time.

"we're meant for each other. you just need a little help understanding it."

his hold you was like a snake wrapping around its prey, constricting like a suffocating pillow until said prey finally fell limp. you were the prey and geto was the snake.. and, well...

he was threatening to swallow you whole.

#geto suguru #yandere geto #geto x reader #fem reader #female reader #yandere jjk #yandere #suggestive #😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼

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tsukimefuku · 1 year ago

Text

unwell ❖ nanami kento

summary: you had a terrible day, but at least, you’ve got a helping hand.

cw: soft nanami x reader, implied past higuruma x reader, reader is having a mental breakdown but in a kind of funny way, hurt and comfort, a lot of fluff, i want this man to pat my hair dry as i have a meltdown and drink wine straight from a bottle.

wc: 1.1k

notes etc.: the inspo song is in the title, unwell (matchbox twenty). i will reuse this scene in another fic with another turn of events.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

❖ hold me in your clarity ❖

As Nanami closed the door while entering your apartment holding groceries, he heard the water in the bathroom being turned on. Figuring you must be taking a shower, he calmly went in the to leave the bags over the counter and began to make his way into the bedroom to see if you had left plates or anything of the sort. However, upon walking by the bathroom, Nanami realized the door was open, stepping back immediately.

You didn't fail to notice that out of your peripheral vision.

"It's okay, I'm fully clothed," you yelled through the thundering water, while you held your second bottle of wine of the night a little outside from the water's range.

"... What?"

You sighed.

"You can come in, Kento."

He stepped inside the bathroom to witness a rather… unexpected scene. You still had the usual clothes you wore for missions on, and was barefoot inside the shower, while holding a bottle of wine.

"Did you know the first time I encountered Hiromi, he was fully clothed inside a bathtub?" you asked Nanami, while still looking straight ahead to the wall in front of you.

He seemed slightly worried under his collected expression.

"I didn't."

"Yeah…" you ensued, taking a gulp of wine, "he had a suit on. I mean, it seemed fun, but maybe it just looked that way because he was in a bathtub. Taking a shower with your clothes on is just… sad."

He knew you enough to realize something must've happened for you to be in that state, but wondered if this would be the best moment to probe at it.

You gave him no options, though.

"Three people died on my mission today. And another yesterday. I… I just need one win, you know? To have at least one single thing in my life that isn’t buried in deep shit."

You were clearly in the middle of an astrological hell, getting thrown around like a penny inside a washing machine. Every little damn thing in your life was going wrong ever since Higuruma left Tokyo, and you were doing your best to keep your sanity as intact as it could be.

Even if it meant trying weird shit like this.

"I see," Nanami replied, not having much to say beyond that. He knew the hardships that came with this life, and thought that maybe having a little mental breakdown taking a shower fully clothed was one of the most harmless things you could do right now.

However, it was also cold, and you would for a fact catch a cold if you kept going.

He walked towards the shower, and you wondered what exactly he was about to do. Opening it, he turned off the water, while pulling the towel from its support.

"Hey!" you protested.

"Come, you need to dry yourself," he noted, offering a hand to help you out.

With a pout, you walked outside and sat on the sink, still mindlessly holding onto your bottle.

He enveloped you in the towel he had pulled, and grabbed another nearby to pat your hair as dry as possible.

"You should avoid leaving the bathroom right now, you're drenched," he said, no chide intended.

You scoffed.

"Yeah, perhaps."

"I can get some clothes for you to change, if you'd like."

Reluctantly, you nodded.

"Later."

He acquiesced, and kept patting your hair dry.

"Nanami, how do you not go crazy with this fucking job? How are you so stable?" you inquired, taking another gulp of wine and looking at him, "I need some encouragement words."

He pondered for a moment before sighing.

"I don't have any. It's a hard and most times unrewarding work that needs to be done."

You grunted.

"Guess you're right. We just hold the string of sanity for dear life and hope it doesn't snap, right?"

He nodded softly.

"You could say that."

"What a nightmare," you replied, taking another sip, "I want to talk about something else, this is depressing me even further, let's chat."

Nanami sighed, yet again, now chiding, "you should get dry, eat something and rest."

"Oh, we can talk about anything, come on!" you encouraged, half in jest, "I'm a bottle and a half in, won't remember a thing tomorrow."

"That's even more of a reason for you to sleep. I'll leave some food for you in your fridge."

You were both silent for a little while until you began speaking again.

"Do you know what this is remembering me of? You patting my head down with a towel? That night."

"What night?" he asked.

"Our night, Kento. The one you so tenderly referred to as 'the events of' on the note you left me before leaving the next morning for a mission."

You said tenderly in the mockiest voice he'd ever heard.

"... Oh."

Nanami's body had noticeably stiffened up, and you could swear he was slightly blushing.

"Yeah, not one of your greatest moments. I mean, the note. Not the night. The night was great. Amazing, really."

Nanami cleared his throat, feeling deeply embarrassed, to say the least.

"I apologize."

"No worries, I forgave you, remember?" you replied, chuckling softly. 'The events of last night', Jesus… "So… You already told me why you pushed me away, but did we have a shot at it?"

And he had told you how he was frightened of the losses the both of you could endure if you had in fact entered a relationship, how it reminded him of his past losses, past failures and the whole story.

But you never got to discuss the what if.

Nanami had a bated breath faltering as he opened his mouth to speak, and seemed to actually think out his answer carefully, before finally speaking up again.

"I believe so."

A deep sigh got pulled from your lungs as you put your wine bottle away.

"Yeah… me too. I loved you," you mumbled, defeated. The next part came inaudibly, and you weren't sure if you were actually saying it or thinking it.

Still do.

His hands seemed to stop patting you dry for the briefest moment before he continued to do so, completely silent. You were unsure if this had been your imagination, and if he had heard that or not.

A few moments later, he put the small towel on the sink by your side and stepped behind.

"I'll get you some clean clothes for you to change into."

"Okay," you mumbled.

As he was about to step out of the bathroom, you called out, "hey, Kento…"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

He smiled and bowed his head towards you, saying, "you're welcome," finally walking out of the bathroom.

Did I say it out loud?

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lenavonschweetz · 2 years ago

Text

Hunter Insert

Dean Winchester x Reader

Synopsis: You really didn’t mean to, but somehow you’d stumbled upon something called Tumblr - and in turn fanfiction. You may or may not get addicted to reader inserts featuring your favorite teammate. You may or may not get caught.

Warnings: Smut, second-hand embarrassment, adorable Dean, fanfiction cliches, fanfiction cliches turned on their heads, fluffy smut. It’s ok (and quite adorable, honestly) to laugh during sexytimes.

A/N: This is just a reworking of one of my most popular Bucky x reader fics! Tweaked for the Supernatural world and storyline. No Beta, so be kind!

You’d had a thing for Dean Winchester for longer than you could remember.

It probably all started when you met Sam Winchester at school. The tall goober took to you immediately. Your calming presence and warm smile lured him in and you became fast friends, giving Sam a bond he hadn’t felt in a long time. You were the only one he trusted enough to tell the truth about his family and their business. He spoke of his older brother with bucket loads of admiration, though he would never admit it to the man in question. When he told stories of their shenanigans back in the day, his eyes would light up but then his smile would fall just as quickly when he also recalled his father. You fell in love with the idea of a man glorious enough to make even displaced, ‘unwanted’ (his words, not yours), and jaded Sam smile like the kid he never got to be.

They say reality never lives up to the stories, but lord almighty were they wrong.

You first met Dean when the business of his dad’s disappearance was in full swing. A regular weekly movie night at Sam and Jessica’s place having turned tense when an unknown figure had broken in. You remember your eyes had wandered to his dark figure, speaking to Sam in hushed tones, head reeling as you realized this was the man who haunted your dreams. The infamous older brother and monster hunter, Dean Winchester.

You hadn’t believed in love at first sight, but the way his impossibly hazel eyes made your heart clench… Well, there was no denying this is exactly what was happening.

After Jessica had died you sat out the first leg of their search for their father, wanting to let them catch up. It wasn’t until after their father was long dead, and the apocalypse was well on its way that you joined back in - or rather, were dragged back in. Being the only woman currently in Sam’s life - though platonically, of course - the universe seemed to have it out for you and after having to save you from demons at least twice, the brothers claimed teaching you how to defend yourself and dragging you along with them would be safer than leaving you to whatever fate there was to be had. You even became an incredibly capable hunter. Though this was all after Sam had effectively ended the world with a demon lover who screwed him over, Dean died then came back thanks to the help of an angel - Castiel - who joined in your asinine little game, and the apocalypse really started. Because life with the Winchesters was never simple.

And through all your years together, there was always the looming reality - or rather, fantasy - of the Supernatural books by Chuck Shurley.

At first, the fans were harmless. There was the convention incident where reality and fantasy got a little too close, but Chuck assured you he was going to stop writing the books.

He lied, obviously.

Still, the fandom was mostly benign - and rather small, actually, with only some fanatics here and there. Although perhaps your favorite attention to come from the ‘fame’ was from Tumblr.

Folks from all over the world posted about the boys - or rather their ‘fictional’ counterparts. Artists’ work would pop up from time to time, usually of the boys, but yours were there - even if they were pretty scarce.

The art was amazing. Some funny comics, some lewd drawings, some gorgeous renders - all talent. But somehow, from Chuck’s descriptions of you and the boys, these artists rendered the most flattering, wonderful, and accurate works. It was incredibly humbling and awe-inspiring all at once. It even got you to start reading the books!

And you couldn’t blame them for the way the brothers were almost always shirtless or naked. They were like Greek statues, for God sake!

Your character was pretty popular, up until Chuck’s latest book where he started hinting at your little crush on the older brother. Thank God the boys never read them, or you’d be in deep shit.

Some users sided with you “she’s only human! And he is just so…well, look at him!” Lewd pictures were attached to that post. Others condemned you. “Seriously? How could he ever notice someone like her? #DeanDeservesBetter” “What’s Chuck thinking?”, “Worst. Ship. EVER!”

Those stung, you’d admit. But if growing up in the 21st century taught you anything, it’s that fans were only jealous and no one was safe. You could ignore the hate though.

What you couldn’t ignore was the fanfiction.

Oh goodness, the fanfiction.

What seemed to be most popular were the reader inserts with your gorgeous teammate, and you didn’t mind indulging in them one little bit. Some were sweet and cute, others left you dashing for a cold shower after. It stunned you that these writers were able to capture Dean’s mannerisms and personality so well! And these works were just so addicting!

It became a daily thing, finding a new fic, and reading it in the safety of your room where no one could see or judge. You read reader inserts, stories with original characters, and may or may not have found a guilty pleasure in a teensy bit of Destiel (who could deny the two perfect specimens would be hot as hell together?? But you would never tell them). You steered clear of the Dean x Lisa fics, though, like your life depended on it.

That was one torture you just couldn’t expose yourself to.

Then you stumbled over the one that changed everything. A new fic by one of your favorite authors that featured Dean (of course) and…you. It was a prompt you hadn’t read before, one where the two of you had to share a motel room with only one bed and things got hot and heavy. Your heart raced as you indulged in this fantasy, thinking of all the times you had to share a room with your teammates, though there was always more than one bed. You had never shared with Dean, as he usually bunked on the couch while you and Sam each bunked alone, but a girl can dream can’t she?

And dream you did. Especially with Dean’s constant flirting and sexual innuendos.

The story became a constant thought in the back of your mind and when Sam hangs back at the bunker and leaves you and Dean to take on a duet hunt together, you felt your heart stop. At the motel when checking in, you were given one room and your mind ran ramped. Had he read your phone’s history? Did he find your Tumblr? What if he had read the sinful story you’d found and wanted to live out the fantasy with you (another of your favorite prompts). The thoughts had you following silently behind your partner, heart racing as he smiled at you while his deft fingers unlocked the door. Steeling yourself as you walked inside behind him, you dropped your bags and spun around to find… 2 beds.

Oh.

Well, you supposed your dirty fantasies were just that; Fantasies.

----------

The night crawled on with no notable incidents -unfortunately-, and when it was finally time to call it a night, you both fell into your own beds.

Sleep evaded you for hours. The thought of that perfect body lying just feet away from you swam in the back of your mind. You could easily get up, crawl into bed with him, and make all your dreams come true. The fantasies that filled your head made you anything but tired.

Well, that, and the fact that Dean was snoring like a mother fucking buzz saw.

Your wide, dry eyes stared up at the ceiling as the loud rumbles filled the room. Dean had come a long way - with your help - and no longer had nightly episodes or memories of hell. Of course, they still happened on occasion, but they were a rare occurrence now. The hunter often found himself sleeping soundly through most nights, including this one.

He was the only one who would, it seemed, as you tossed and turned, doing your best to tune out the irritating sound. You put earplugs in, then headphones playing music, then even tracks of white noise. A forest, a stream, the ocean each one louder than the last. They all usually knocked you right out on a hunt.

But Dean snored over all of them.

You did your best to ignore it, you really did, but when he rolled over onto his back and started with a newfound volume, you’d decided you’d had enough.

“Dee.” You say lowly, hoping that he’ll sleep through the disturbance, but that his subconscious will hear his name and disturb his sleep just enough that he’ll shut the hell up.

The resounding snort proves that theory wrong.

“Dee!” You snap, louder now. Nothing. “Dean!”

A few moments pass…

Nothing…

Maybe it worked! Maybe-

Yeah, no, there he goes again.

Groaning loudly, you sit up and reach for your phone. Fine, if his hard-sleeping-ass can sleep through all that, then he could sleep with the light from your phone filling the room as well.

You open your favorite app, the blue screen greeting your tired eyes. Switching over from the homepage feed, you type ‘Dean x reader’ into the app’s search bar and your screen is immediately flooded with fic after fic. Pursing your lips, you decide to narrow your search. It doesn’t seem like you’ll be falling asleep any time soon, so what would the harm be? You let your thumbs fly over the screen’s keyboard.

Dean x reader smut.

Happy with your amendment, you hit ‘search’ once more and decide to take a walk on the wild side.

Immediately, your screen is flooded with sin and you bite back a smile. With your screen’s light as low as it’ll go, you click on the first story and settle into a comfortable position, facing away from Dean and the window as you immerse yourself in the fic.

You’ve probably been reading for about an hour or so when your bladder decides it’s time for you to get up. Sighing quietly, you leave your phone on your pillow, creeping through the silent room. As soon as you’ve taken care of business and washed up, you tiptoe back to bed. As you all but fall into the sheets, feeling like you can finally sleep, you realize your phone is not where you left it.

Hell, it’s not even in the bed.

Sitting up in fright, your eyes dart across the room and the sleeping man in the bed opposite yours. When you see the dimly glowing screen on the bedside table, you sigh in relief, telling yourself that your sleep-deprived brain probably just didn’t register you putting it away. Locking the screen with sleepy eyes, you drift off to sleep with visions of Dean trailing kisses down your neck flitting behind your eyes.

----------

The morning comes much too quickly for your taste, but you push yourself out of bed to face the day ahead.

You grab your bag quickly, packing up all your belongings as you and Dean prepare for your hunt. He’s uncharacteristically quiet this morning, barely meeting your eyes as you two embark from the motel room. Shrugging it off, you follow behind him and before you know it, the two of you are standing before the doors to a known haunted office building. It’s far too early for anyone to be there, so breaking in is easier than you’d expected and the two of you don’t run into any trouble as you make your way to the top floor.

Once there, you put your plan into motion, Dean taking a defensive position as you sneak into the manager’s office. You find the haunted artifact like you’ve done a million times before, and you note the sudden shift in the air once you touch it. It’s almost too quiet as you do your work, but by the way Dean hasn’t even flinched in his spot is a good indicator that things are - miraculously - still going as planned.

Finally, your work is done - the artifact turned to ash and the ghost successfully placated.

----------

You don’t allow yourself to breathe until you and Dean walk into yet another motel, this one only a few towns over from your rendezvous point with Sam. You’d spend the night here before making the remainder of the journey in the morning. Exhaustion hits you like a freight train as you trudge to the room, and you find yourself hoping against hope once more that your favorite fics may come to life. But when your eyes fall on two beds once more those hopes are dashed.

“You can take the king,” Dean says, and you suddenly realize those are the first words he’s spoken to you all day aside from the business of the break-in earlier. There hadn’t even been one famous Dean innuendo all day. “I’ll take the queen.”

You raise your eyebrow at that but don’t argue, even though you know damn well that the man who is almost twice your size probably needs the larger bed more than you do.

No more words are passed between the two of you as you prepare for bed, each taking their turn in the bathroom and shower before turning the lights out and settling down to sleep. It doesn’t take long for sleep to tickle at your eyelids, but it’s chased away almost instantly when Dean’s buzz saw snores kick to life again.

Groaning quietly, you toss a pillow at the human-grizzly bear before rolling over to grab your phone and headphones from the bedside table. He continues, of course, and you go to your favorite app once more. Using your phone this late at night and right before you sleep is bad, you know, but how the hell are you supposed to sleep with that man rumbling only several feet from you.

You open a new fanfic, this one’s warnings staring you down as you read “smut, language, NSFW gifs” and you can’t fight back the smirk that plays on your lips. Again, you roll onto your side, back towards Dean, as you get to reading.

You know your breathing has picked up pace as you get past the fic’s casual banter between friends and the sexual tension sets in. Your legs squeeze together of their own accord, your chest warming in arousal as you envision Dean speaking to you the way he’s speaking to Y/N in this fic.

Within a few minutes - and a few lines - the sexual tension explodes into a full-on kiss, the smut slowly building as a result. You scroll quickly, devouring every detail before your fingers slow as the top of a gif comes into view. It’s sinful, to say the least. You watch the way the man’s hips swivel into his lover’s, her head thrown back as he buries his head against her throat and himself deep into her.

Your lip is back between your teeth and you can’t bring yourself to scroll on just yet. Instead, you let yourself take every detail in as the image loops, again and again, your arousal growing with every second. Oh, what you wouldn’t give to have Dean moving against you that way. His heavy breath fanning over your collarbone as he grinds against your most sensitive skin. You have to bite your tongue so as to not moan into the silent room.

Wait…

Silent.

You realize at that moment that the violent snores from the other side of the room have died completely, silence overtaking their absence. A silence that has you tentatively glancing over your shoulder and only to immediately regret it.

Even in the dark, your eyes find the hazel ones that are only inches away. Hazel eyes that are damn near swallowed with lust.

Oh.

Oh, Jesus.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Kiddo?” His deep voice rumbles in the quiet room, sending your heart galloping as you jump up to sitting, desperately burying your phone against your breast in an effort to hide its contents from him.

“Nothing.” You say, your voice scarcely above a whisper. You don’t miss the smirk on his face and frantically reevaluate the past several minutes in your brain. When had he woken up? When had he snuck up behind you? How much had he read over your shoulder?

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” He says, teeth dragging over his lower lip and it seems for a moment that he’s debating on whether or not he wants to take this any further. When he speaks again though, he makes his choice very clear. “Looks like you’re being a very bad girl.”

The room is so fucking quiet that the lump that you gulp down is painfully audible.

He didn’t just say that…did he? You chuckle humorlessly, trying desperately to break the obvious tension and play off of the joke he is so obviously playing on you. Dean makes comments like that all the time. That’s just how he is with you! Any moment now he’ll chuckle like he always does.

But then he doesn’t laugh with you. Just stares as he scoots closer on his knees until his frame is right against the bed, pulling you by your thighs until he’s encasing you - palms on either side of your legs that are now thrown over the side of the bed.

You’reDreamingYou’reDreamingYou’reDreaming…

“That…that was too far, wasn’t it?” He suddenly asks, rocking his weight back on his heels. Bless him, he looks so uncharacteristically shy and you must look completely dumbfounded. He waits with bated breath as you open and close your mouth uselessly, desperately searching for words.

Finally, you spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Did you just quote the fanfiction I read last night?” OH MY GOD, you mentally scream. Why the fuck would you expose yourself like that?? What if he just thought of that himself??

But then what if he didn’t? Because that line had definitely stuck out to you when reading the night before…and suddenly, you remember why it had. That was the last line before you left your phone to go to the bathroom. The last line you’d read with tired eyes before you set your phone down, unlocked, on your pillow and - ohmygod!

“You read that!?” You screech, gripping your phone tighter. You gasp so hard you damn near swallow your tongue. “You put my phone on the bedside table! Dean, you totally snooped while I was peeing!” Alright, you could’ve kept that bit to yourself.

He’s biting that damn lip again, and you know he can tell that’s exactly where your eyes are zeroed in on.

“Maybe?” He says, voice small as he admits his secret to you. “I didn’t mean to! I just…I woke up when you shut the bathroom door, and the screen was shining right in my face - I just-I got up to lock it so it wouldn’t bother me, but then I saw what you were looking at and…” He clears his throat. “Y/N, I…were you reading porn…about me?”

Your face is no doubt a thousand degrees of embarrassment.

“It’s not porn!! It’s fanfiction, and-”

“It literally talks about me fucking you.” He deadpans, eyebrows raised. “In explicit detail. It’s porn.”

You’re silent for a few moments, staring him down as you wait for him to back down.

Of course, he doesn’t.

“Ok, fine! It’s porn, are you happy?” You huff, crossing your arms and finally ditching your phone to the pillow beside you. A sudden terrifying thought causes you to freeze. “So…are you going to tell Sam?”

“Why the fuck would I tell him?!”

“I don’t know!”

“Do you honestly think I’d tell him something so personal?!”

“I don’t know!” You repeat, floundering as you toss your hands up before crossing them again in a pout. “It’s embarrassing. You know I tend to jump to the worst-case scenarios…”

“Y/N, I would never out you like that.” You would have to be blind to miss the way his eyes drag over you in your nightclothes, and you are suddenly very aware of your lack of bra and just how cold it is in the room.

He seems to notice too, his eyes zeroing in on your breasts and the way your nipples are pressing against the soft fabric encasing them.

“Do you…do you want me like that?” He asks, his voice dropping back into the husky tone it had been before his awkward detour.

“No, Dee, I was just reading porn of you for the fuck of it.” He chuckles at that, his palms coming to rest on your thighs as the embarrassment between you two eases - making way for a choking tension.

“Really? Ah, well, then I guess I can just go back to bed, then.”

“Don’tyoudare!” The words are out before you can stop them, but at this point, you don’t much care.

“Oh? Then what should I do?” His hazel eyes are dark, gazing at you from below thick lashes as his hands creep higher up your thighs, pushing your oversized t-shirt up to expose the soft cotton covering you from his gaze. “Should I do this?”

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening as he leans forward, lips pressing against the soft skin on the inside of your thigh.

“Oh, please.” You beg, arms falling at your sides to support you as his mouth grows closer to where you really want him. Only he doesn’t quite reach, his eyes twinkling playfully at you.

“Words, Y/N.” He grumbles lowly, splayed hands pushing your legs wider to give himself better access to your heat.

“Dean, please-” A squeal escapes you when his teeth drag across your hip bone. “Put your mouth on me.”

Nothing you’ve ever read could’ve prepared you for the way Dean touches you.

He moves slowly, his palms running from your inner thighs to behind your knees to pull your legs over his shoulders. The movement has your stomach flipping, eyes never leaving his as he drags his tongue up the material hiding your core from him.

He chuckles at your moan, eyes batting as he presses the point of his tongue against your clit beneath your panties. To be honest, you’re not sure which one of you is enjoying this more what with the way his fingers tighten against your legs, his eyes closing in concentration as he laps at you.

In your wildest dreams, you never thought Dean would be touching you like this - at least not outside of the fiction you were reading. But, oh, is he touching you - playing you, more like it, plucking your strings until you’re practically singing for him.

You could cum just like this, light pets of his tongue teasing your sensitive skin, but then he’s tugging the panties from your form, diving right back into your bare skin and you’re keening at the contact, your fingers knotting in his long hair. He groans in response to your moans, forearm flung lazily across your hips to keep you still as he wreaks havoc on you.

You open your mouth, ready to chastise him but the words instantly make way for cries as he finally swipes his tongue through your folds - fucking you with his mouth as he watches your form writhe.

“God, you taste amazing.” He moans, and you have to hold back a giggle. “What’s so funny?” Do you admit that you’d read him saying those very words far too many times to keep count?

But then he’s pulling away, leaving you whimpering at the precipice of release and the sight of his strong torso being revealed to your ends any thoughts you may have had. Especially when he reaches down and rids you of your own shirt, kissing across your collar bones once they’re exposed.

“You got any protection?” He asks suddenly, teeth scraping at your throat and you are suddenly aware of the fact that this is real life, not a fic, and wow you’d lost count of how many bareback smuts you’d read.

Not that the thought of Dean cumming inside you wasn’t the hottest thing ever, but the idea of pregnancy was something you didn’t even want to entertain at the moment.

So, begrudgingly, you pushed him off gently, bending down to rifle through your bag - hey, it never hurts to be prepared. You roll your eyes at his chuckle as you bend over, shaking your exposed backside at him - where he has taken your seat on the mattress - before rising to hand him the small, metallic square.

He toys with it for a few seconds, watching as you stand with a lip tugged gently between your teeth and your eyes flicker to the semi-hard shaft against his thighs. Long fingers enter your line of sight, coming to cup himself, stroking a few times as you watch him.

“See something you like, baby?” He asks, free hand coming up to run his thumb against your lips. You nod slowly, shivering at the new pet name, eyes never tearing from where he teases his cock. You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, Dean’s thumb accidentally catching where it had been against your lips and then he’s growling and pulling you to him.

Your lips crash together, a flash of pain as your teeth clack momentarily, but you’re far too lost in Dean’s intoxicating proximity to care. He seems to share the sentiment as your hands weave through his hair, pulling him closer as he moans and strokes himself faster before you straddle his strong thighs.

You consider grinding down against the taut muscle momentarily, but then Dean’s rolling the condom down his shaft, his knuckles brushing your folds as he does and all you want is for him to fill you up to the brim.

The desperation is clear on your face, wrapped in hooded eyes and a deep flush as you inhale deeply every time Dean’s knuckles brush you.

“Oh, my god!” You huff, getting ever so impatient. He chuckles at your tone, tugging you higher on his lap so that - finally - you’re aligned. A brief moment passes as you two eye each other hesitantly, your nerves on fire as you consider what it is you’re about to do.

You’re about to fuck one of your partners, one of your best friends…the man you’ve been fantasizing about for years.

“Ready?” He asks softly, testing the waters as he runs the head of his cock through your lips. Any hesitation you may have had melts with the shiver that travels your spine, and then some when Dean growls as you bare your nails into his shoulder blades.

“Dean, I swear to god, if you don’t fu-ck me!” You squeal the tail end of your sentence, Dean’s own groan disappearing into the skin of your shoulder as he slides home. Pain and pleasure flood your senses and suddenly you are highly aware of just how long it’s been.

“Shiiit,” Dean sighs at the tight fit, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips and holding you still as he struggles to hold himself off.

It’s been a while for him, too.

“Jesus, you’re tight.” He hisses between his teeth, his brow as scrunched as yours no doubt is at the moment.

“And you’re huge.” He laughs then, the movement of his abs against your sensitive skin enough to have you sighing. “I, uh, think you’re good to move.” You say quietly, testing this theory with a slight brush forward of your hips. When delicious friction reaches your clit at the action you moan lowly. “Oh, yeah. Very good to move.”

And move he does, giving you a few moments as he slowly builds up the pace before falling back and letting you take the reigns. Your hands find his strong pecs as you fall forward at the sudden shift, and a shit-eating grin crosses your face. Dean misses this, however, as his eyes are screwed shut with pleasure.

“Fuck!” He groans when you begin to rut against him, dragging your clit against his adonis belt as his cock head catches against your insides perfectly. He doesn’t seem to mind this change, panting openly and quite vocally. Well, that is until his hands find your thighs and hold on tight. “Shit, slow down, baby…I don’t know how long I can last if you keep that up.”

You’re about to apologize, a flush very evident on your skin before Dean is manhandling you onto your back, your legs cast wide in his grasp.

“Let’s slow things down a little.” He teases, kissing your nose as you giggle and let him set the pace.

When he does, it’s dizzyingly slow, his teeth dragging against your skin as do his fingertips and after a few minutes of sinfully slow rocks of his hips, he is very quickly stringing you towards the edge.

“Dean,” You whimper, your walls beginning to flutter around him. The groan that milks from his chest is nothing short of sexy and you return one of your own. His name becomes a chant on your lips as pleasure rushes through your bloodstream, your nails digging into his taut back and after a few more thrusts of his own, he’s emptying inside the condom.

The high fades slowly, your skin buzzing in sated pleasure as a lazy smile takes place on your face. Dean is quiet, almost shy as he retreats to the restroom to clean himself and dispose of the condom. You snicker quietly to yourself at the thought that this detail is often left out of the fics you read, but the pleasant ache between your legs certainly isn’t.

“Well,” He says as he returns, slipping under the covers with you. As you shift, something digs into your side and when you bring the offending object above the covers do you realize that your phone had remained in the sheets that whole time. You hand it off to him as he tugs you closer, waving him to put it on the bedside table. “Aren’t you glad I decided to snoop?” He teases as he takes the contraption from you.

“Yeah, Yeah, Dee. But not as glad as I am that we can save on rooms by just booking us one bed from now on!”

You both chuckle at the jest, your giggles soon dying into labored breathing as your energy drains quickly against the warmth of Dean’s body wrapped around yours. Your eyes drift shut of their own accord, not noticing how Dean hesitates at placing your phone on the charger…again.

“Hey, baby?” He asks hesitantly, his eyes widening as he scrolls through your Tumblr feed and exposed to all sorts of sin.

“Hmm?” You hum, sleep tickling at your mind. That is until your eyes fly open wide at his following question.

“What’s Destiel?”

FIN

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