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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months

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DCxDP Fic idea: What's the Rule again?

It starts with Wes Weston accidentally banishing Danny from his haunt. He didn't mean to, and he panicked along side Sam and Tucker when Danny was effectively evicted Danny from Amity Park.

See the four have become tight-knited friends every since the trio started talking to Wes back during the summer between freshman and sophomore year.

During that time, Wes's other friends had drifted apart once Wes' attention moved from basketball to ghosts- specifically Phantom. Danny had felt at fault that he was left a loner because of his secret identity and had invited Wes to sit with them at the Nasty Burger the second week of Summer break.

Wes was suprise to find out that Sam, Tucker and Danny were much better friends then the ones he hanged out with since third grade. He was used to people only speaking to him in class or the few times they hang out on breaks but the trio would message him about every single thought or meme they had. They could laugh togther until tears fell from thier eyes and they couldn't breath over the silliest of topics.

Wes also found out that the trio was supportive of all their interests. Sure, his old teammates and friends didn't make fun of him for crocheting or painting, but they wouldn't accompany him to an art market. Nor would they actually wear the scarves and gloves he made them.

They sure as hell didn't volunteer to help him run a booth to sell his own crocheting pieces after encouraging him to get a table. And they wouldn't cheer loudly when he made his first sale.

Wes also wouldn't have happily gone with them to an observatory, a Dark Poem Night, or even a tech expo. But he found that he had the time of his life watching Danny, Sam, and Tucker nerd out at the events much as much as he did at his own.

He also never had anyone he knew would be down to do him favors or even take notes for him when he was out sick.

So he became close friends with them, passing sophomore year with far more enjoyment than any other grade, then Junior year came and went just as fast and as fun. It was their last summer as high school students, so Wes wanted to do as many new activities as the four could together before Senior year.

Who knew what would happen to their little group after graduation? He wants to think they would all remain best friends but he's heard so many stories of people drifting apart that Wes was afraid of risking it.

That's why he researched urban myths and legends around the world regarding ghosts- more then any research paper he's ever done- and jokingly asked Danny to partake in some of them as a halfa.

They joked and laughed- throwing salt in a circle around Danny, lighting a candle for him to use Morse code with- but it wasn't until Wes got to the one where he tried smoking Danny out with a banishing spell he found in an old book that things turned from funny to horrible.

It worked

Danny was flung from his haunt- effectively banishing him from the area he was haunting. Dann just happens to be haunting all of Amity Park, so he ends up on the outskirts of town, unable to cross the invisible line.

Wes practically choked on his tears as he apologized for Danny not being able to cross back in, but the other three quickly informed him that they, too, took part in it, and it was no one's fault. Danny just had to find a way to reverse the banishing spell.

The only problem was that the book pages Wes found online were only on the banish spell itself and nothing else. He couldn't even find the whole book since it belonged in a private family library.

The family library was located in the most dangerous city in America. Gotham.

The library also belongs to a very wealthy family that had recently all but perished except for their lone heir- Timothy Drake.

Now Wes attempted to contact Timothy Drake in hopes of having the other teenager send him copies of the book, but he never got a reply. He thinks it was due to not explaining why he needed the book and ending up sounding like a bot or a scam.

With each passing day of Drake not responding Danny's situation grew worse. Jazz luckily covered for them, claiming to have signed Danny up for some camp so his parents wouldn't think he was missing.

That would only work until school started, which was a time limit that was weighing on all their shoulders as they tried to find a counterspell.

Jazz, Tucker, Sam, and Wes each took turns driving out of town to bring him food and a change of clothes so Danny could figure out his situation, having to do it in shifts to not alert any of their parents.

However, without his haunt to pick up natural exoplasm, Danny was growing weaker and weaker by the day, looking half stave out in the little motel room Sam rented for him as they tried to get him back into the town.

Danny needed to either make his way back to his haunt or go somewhere that was so infected with ectoplasm that it actually felt cursed.

Tucker found the solution to all their problems with a few hacking skills that he learned to fight off Technus' invasive attempts of his personal tech.

"A full ride to Gotham Academy?" Wes' mom gasped staring at the acceptance letter her son eagerly showed her. "With a promised full ride to any university in America?!"

"Yeah, Tucker, Sam, Danny, and I all got accepted for our work on clean energy generators. We sent it in for the Wayne scholarship, and we won! The only thing is that it's a requirement to graduate from high school in Gotham. I have to go!" Wes gasped, eyeing both his dad's and Kyle's doubtful frowns. He couldn't afford for them to say no when Tucker had worked so hard to bump them up as Winners. Bruce Wayne's computer security is no joke. "This is the once in a life time opportunity!"

"But where would you live?" His dad asks, shaking the letter. "Wes, this is clear across states, and it only covers school expenses."

"Sam's parents bought her a house. She's going to rent us some of the extra rooms." It was a lie; her parents would never let four boys- especially these boys- rent from their daughter. She told them that the school provided co-dorm rooms "I can get a job at the local library- I already sent them my resume and got a call for a interview."

"What will you do for food?" Kyle asks. "We both know you can't cook."

"I can't, but Danny does. He's amazing in the kitchen."

Here, his parents share a loaded look. "So you'll be living with the Fenton boy....."

"Well. Yeah? I already said that?" He returns, confused, and Kuule coughs to cover a laugh. Confused he stares at his older brother, who quirks a grin at him.

"Don't worry about it." Kyle laughs, but his wiggling eyebrows tell Wes he should worry a lot about it. He would inisit a little more to find out what Kyle knew, but he needed to convince his parents more.

Eventually, after five days of attempting, Wes got their permission and could tell his friends, who all shared the same results. The remainder of the summer is spent preparing for their move- finding the house, getting it furnished, packing their things, transferring schools- it's a lot, and he's never been so grateful for Sam's wealth.

She hires people to get it all done for her-including hiring a trailer to take their four cars-, so he only has to worry about his packing. The four meet up at the airport on the day they live, flying first class thanks to Sam's grandmother.

Tearful goodbyes and good luck from their families leave them all a bit down but they board the plane and take off without too much trouble.

While on the plane, Sam turns to the boys. "Does everyone remember the phases of the plan?"

"Phase one: Blend into Gotham until we find Timothy Drake" Tucker states, pushing up his glasses

"Phase two: Get Drake to invite us over to his house and find the book," Danny tacks on, tapping his foot on the ground.

"Phase three: Find all the pieces for the counterspell- usually scattered around the magical family's ancestral home- and get Danny home!" Wes shouts, raising a fist in the air.

Sam nods, looking satisfied. "And what are we not allowed to do? Danny?"

"Become a vigilante when my ectoplasm is on a limited intake" Danny grumbles, sinking into his chair. "Let it to the Bats and keep my head low."

"Good. Tucker?"

"I'm not allowed to hack into anything because it can gain the attention of the Bats or Mr.Wayne, and then we'll be on a wanted list" Tucker sighs "No matter how much fun it would be to battle it out with the legendary Oracle."

"That's right. I'm not allowed to go anywhere near Poison Ivy no matter how much I want to yell at her to go fix the coal riffs and cut down forests instead of wasting her powers on the stupid heist." Same all but bites, and then she turns her attention to Wes, who startles.

"Wes?"

"Wait, I have a rule?"

"Course, man," Tucker laughs. "We all have rules."

"But I'm not interesrted in anything in Gotham besides the Drake grimoire!"

"Wes," Danny says gently, his soft baby blue eyes making him a little hot under the collar as they stare into his soul. "You're not allowed to fall in love with any of the Bats."

Wes mind blanks, then reboots, "Excuse me!?"

"We know you had a crush on all of us here Wes and Val" Sam laughs when he turns wide eyes at her. "It's cute but you really shouldn't try for the Bats. They're the violent sort"

"What?!"

"Yeah, you have a type, and it's a hero or hero adjacent." Tucker shrugs "It's cool."

Wes can only gape at them, no matter how much he tries to convince them; otherwise, the three refuse to remove his rule. He is highly offended by it.

Yes, he's never really gone out with Team Phantom, just because when he joined the group, most of Danny's rouges were long gone leaving behind the tiny ones that he could handle on his own, but he wasn't into heroes!

And okay- maybe, maybe at one point or another he may have had slight crushes on his friends but they were quick and gone before the first school year together!

So the rule is utterly ridiculous!

At least, he thinks so until five days later when he's trying to find his way around the new neighborhood and gets caught up in a mugging. He could have quickly taken the mugger- humans had nothing on ghosts- but he attempted to talk the young adult out of it when Red Robin swooped in like a knight in shining armor.

He may have just stared at the hero's tight-skin outfit instead of letting the hero know that he could handle it, and he may have made a fool of himself when Red Robin asked if he was right.

"Yeah tots fine" He babbles. Ugh, who says tots?! He wants to stop talking but when Wes gets nervous he tends to just word vomit and he could hear himself doing it now. "You know who else is fine?"

Red Robbin raises a brow, likely knowing the pickup line. Cowering, Wes changes the answer in a panic. "Timothy Drake!"

Red Robin stills. "Come again?"

"Timothy Drake, a boy in my class! He's fine that you think he was part siren or something. You've seen him, right? I mean you have eyes!" He repeats with a squeal "I want to get into his private liberty!"

"Do you?" Red Robin tilts his head, a slight smirk forming on his mouth. "You should try flirting with him then. Maybe he can give you a tour."

"Oh, I want more than a tour!"

Why did he say that?!

At least the hero in front of him laughs until a shout has them both looking away.

Danny is running down the street screaming his name, thank the Ancients. When Wes turns around to wave at him, Red Robin vanishes without a sound or trace.

Like a ghost.

Oh no, that's hot.

"Danny, I broke the rule"

"For Ancient's sake, it hasn't even been a month."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #wes weston #Wes/Tim #do they have a ship name?#Wes has a type and it's heros #Tim thinks the new boy is cute #Danny just wants wes to open the childlock on his home town #Sam and Tucker are there for the ride

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valerinaswriting · 1 year

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first glimpse of love.

synopsis: after a close call with death, joel refuses to let you go.

pairing: joel miller x female reader

warnings: established relationship, age gap (sorry i can’t help myself), reader is attacked by a clicker, mentions of death, soft!joel, shower sex, unprotected sex, slight cockwarming, tess does not exist in this fic!

“joel, it’s ok. it’s just a shower,” you reassure, his hand wrapped around your wrist as you attempted to make your way into the bathroom. “i’m fine, i promise.” you add, he nods his head. letting go of you so you were able to retrieve the shower you were desperate to succumb to.

you were truthful when you said you were fine. you’d been attacked by clickers before, even a bloater once. but this was the first time since joel came into your life. in his head, he almost lost you. another person he loved dearly. he shouldn’t have let you go off on your own. he should’ve kept his eye on you. but for a moment, he didn’t. which was when it happened. before either of you could process it, a large clicker was on top of you, causing you to scream. you were able to grab your pistol in time and shoot the infected monster in the head as joel nervously ran to you, pulling the carcus off of you once he got there.

he spent at least 10 minutes panicking and inspecting you for a bite mark, which luckily, you managed to avoid. he was very protective, which made you feel extremely safe. he knew everything about you. that you were an orphan, only a few years old when the virus had destroyed the world he knew. both parents perished not even a year into the pandemic. he was the first glimpse of love you’d ever known. he and ellie were your purpose.

joel decided to stay at bill and franks that night, allowing the battery to fully charge before heading to wyoming. meaning there was access to hot water. you stripped your dirty, bloody clothes onto the floor and stepped into the steamy shower. hissing as the hot water trickled onto your skin. you used a bar of soap to cleanse your body, then washed your hair with the half empty bottles of foreign-scented shampoo and conditioner. joel said bill was resourceful, but you didn’t expect this extent of resourcefulness. you admired it. after reading the letter bill had left for joel, you couldn’t help but wish you could’ve met him and frank before they passed. joel said frank would’ve loved you.

you didn’t know how long you’d been standing there as you lost your train of thought, staring blankly at the tiled wall. you were pulled out of your daze as joel stepped into the shower, immediately wrapping his hand around your torso as he stood behind you.

“i’m not made of glass y'know?” you smiled, placing your hands on top of his. “sorry for wasting so much of the water,” joel just shook his head, placing a kiss on top of your own.

“that’s not why i’m here,” you turned yourself around so you were facing him, his hands pulling you firmly against him as you did. “almost lost you today,” he says quietly, holding you tightly in his arms. he was being dramatic, but his reaction is valid. considering how many people he’s lost along the way. you didn’t say anything, just let him hold you in his arms.

“i love you, joel,” you break the silence, head resting against his damp chest. he traced his fingers along your spine, the sensation of that and the hot water hitting your back was almost orgasmic.

“i love you,” he responds, hooking his finger under your chin and lifting your head. as your eyes locked, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. your hands lifted to his face, holding his stubbled cheeks as your lips collided. he deepened the kiss, tongue swiping along your bottom lip.

“want you as close as possible,” you say against his lips, he nods his head. knowing exactly what you meant. you felt his big hands travel down your body, resting at the back of your knees before lifting you into his arms. your arms wrap around his neck, his lips not leaving yours for a single second.

“never gonna let anything happen to you,” he says, turning you both so your back was resting against the tiled shower wall.

“i know, baby,” you say, gently biting at his bottom lip. “make me feel so safe,”

he moved one of his hands between your bodies, aligning his hard cock against your entrance. his lips leave yours for a second, examining your face closely as he slowly thrusts his hips forward. pushing himself inside you. your eyes roll back, mouth falling agape as he eventually bottoms out.

he sets a steady pace, indulging in your pretty moans and whimpers as he takes you against the wall. this was your favorite type of sex. slow, passionate, and loving. sure, you loved when joel got rough. calling you a filthy whore as he threw you around like a worthless sex toy. but this reminded you of love, and how much joel truly loved you. it was pure and special.

your nails dug into his shoulder as he quickened his thrusts, head falling back against the cold tiles which led to joel attacking your neck with gentle bites and sloppy kisses.

“g-god, feels so good, joel. please don’t stop,” you whine, legs wrapped tightly around him as you let yourself get completely lost in the pleasure.

“so good for me, baby. always do so good for me,” he spoke against your neck, the vibrations causing your back to arch. warm torsos pressed against each other. “never letting you go again,”

it didn’t take long for your orgasm to begin approaching, feeling all of the indicators that you were on the edge. but you tried your best to hold it off, not wanting this to end. ever.

“j-joel… slow down, don’t wanna cum yet. can’t c-cum yet…” you stutter, but joel didn’t halt his movements.

“just let go, baby. we can stay like this for as long as you want. just let yourself go,” and with that, your body succumbed to the pleasure. thighs trembling as you came around his cock. joel wasn’t far behind, the tightness of your walls and moans of pleasure pushing him over the edge. cumming deep inside of you.

neither of you moved for multiple minutes. embracing each other as if it was the last time you’d ever see one another. it felt so lovely. there was so much love radiating off the both of you. such an unlikely pair, but there is no way in hell you weren’t destined for each other. even if the circumstances of the world were different, you would’ve found each other one way or another.

“pretty enduring for an old man aren’t ya?” you say, finally breaking the silence with a cheeky grin on your face. joel lets out a tired chuckle.

“shut up,” he chuckled softly, pressing his lips to yours with pure delicacy. eventually, you helped joel clean himself up before finally leaving the shower. dressing yourselves in the clothes left in the overflowing cardboard boxes.

ellie had fallen asleep on the couch, so the two of you stayed in the spare bedroom upstairs, knowing the circumstances of what lays downstairs in the main bedroom, you can’t see yourself sleeping well. joel on the other hand didn’t seem too phased. he was pretty desensitized to this kind of thing, which was unsurprising.

joel latched onto your body as the two of you got into bed, you let him of course. and you didn’t say anything. you rested your head on his chest, closing your eyes as the sound of his heartbeat hit your ear.

you were almost asleep when joel finally spoke. “i love you so much,” is what he said. assuming you’d already fallen into a deep slumber.

“i love you so much too, joel.” you reply. those were the last words spoken that night. both of you eventually fall asleep in each other's embrace. safe, alive and feeling an immense level of love. that was all that mattered to him. you were safe, and nothing could harm you now.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #the last of us #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfic #joel miller fic

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deadsetobsessions · 1 month

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I would love to read more of your desecrated Grave AU if that isn't to much trouble?

Tbh, it was supposed to be a one time thing but I can give it another go :))

——

Zatanna's dealt with everything from demons to gods, eldritch horrors to cute little puppies. It says a lot, in her opinion, that the GIW managed to invoke such a response of recoiling horror in her.

The magician took in the blood and ectoplasm splattered walls, the writhing reanimated organism that came from exposure to said ectoplasm, and most damningly, the stacks of cracked and broken headstones piled in the corner of the room.

"Peek ruoy part tuhs!" she snarled, hands thrown out at the whimpering and beaten GIW agents. Her magic activated and sealed their voice boxes shut.

In the sudden silence, Zatanna walked to the stacked gravestones. She placed a hand upon the top most one and uttered a heart-broken apology, wondering how many ghosts perished.

"I'll bring you back to Phantom," she promised them. "Eb derots."

The gravestones vanished into her storage space, ready to be taken out when she willed them to be.

"Zatanna, everything finished?" Black Canary walked in, casting a disdainful glance at the agents. "You okay?"

"I can feel... there was much suffering here. They were supposed to be- dying was supposed to grant them peace. Not. Not this."

"We'll make sure it never happens again. The GIW is getting disbanded as we speak."

Their comms buzzed.

"Zatanna, the U.N. is requesting the presence of the ghost king in order to make amends." Batman said.

"Tell them he's going to be busy grieving the massacre of his people, committed by a branch of their government. We'll be damn lucky if he doesn't start a war over this, Batman. He'd be well within his rights to. It's bad."

"I'll hold them off."

"We're wrapping up on our end."

"Copy."

Zatanna turned to the scientists and agents and intoned "Eb devom edistuo!"

"C'mon Zee, let's go." Black Canary made sure she was out of the way before screaming, unleashing a wave of sound that shattered and crumbled the glass and walls of the facility.

"Fuck the government." Zatanna mumbled. How was she supposed to tell Phantom about the gravestones?

----

Phantom floated, the lost look on the young boy's face pulling at their hearts as his hands hovered above the broken gravestones, not daring to touch them.

"So many..." he whispered. Zatanna could do nothing but offer a nod, jaw clenched and eyes burning with fury and grief.

Phantom looked up at her. "Thank you, Zatanna, for bringing them back to us."

"It was the least we could do." Zatanna replied, and something about her voice must have resonated with Phantom because his apathetic façade broke and suddenly, Zatanna had an armful of a grieving, wailing ghost child. Her magic shielded her, but the glass began breaking at his ghostly wail. Still, Zatanna could tell he was holding back in attempt to not kill them all via the vacuum of space.

"Dleihs eht rewothctaw!" She quickly chanted. "Go ahead, you won't hurt us. I've shielded the place."

The glass stopped cracking and Phantom, no longer worried about killing her, screamed against her shoulder.

"Why?! WHAT CRIMES DID WE COMMIT BY DYING?! IT WASN'T ENOUGH TO SUFFER WHEN WE DIED?! WHY?!"

----

#danny phantom #dcxdp #zatanna #black canary #batman #the justice league #the giw #implications that the giw murdered a bunch of ghosts

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daycourtofficial · 2 months

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Save your tears

Summary: Eris finds his pregnant mate sobbing because of something Lucien did

Author’s note: this is short and fun and silly and goofy, inspired by this fic by @artethyst

Lucien Vanserra considered himself to be a male who was kind and who picked up on the emotional state of those around him.

Which is why he has no idea how you began crying or what to do about it.

Ever since you had written to him a few months ago asking if he could stay in Autumn more frequently during your pregnancy, he had obliged, stopping by to see you at least once a week.

Tears were streaming down your face, and he couldn’t make out a single coherent word from you due to your blubbering. He came to sit next to you, but you put your hands on your belly, scooting further away from him.

Eris strode into the room, taking in the scene before him. You trying to stay as far away from his brother as possible, and his brother trying to get closer to you to console you.

“Lucien, what could you have possibly done to reduce my mate to a sobbing mess?”

Lucien throws his hands around, gesturing wildly, “What I did? Perhaps she’s woken from whatever spell she was under and realized who she was mated to.”

Eris gives his brother a look as he comes to you, grabbing your face gently so you look into his eyes. He takes deep slow breaths, wanting you to do the same. After a moment of deep breathing, your sobs have quieted and he asks, in an incredibly delicate tone, “What’s wrong, fawn?”

“Lucien killed a spider,” you sob out.

Lucien’s eyes widen, “that’s why you’re upset? You asked me to kill it! You were upset over it being here!”

“Yes, and now the spider’s dead and she probably had a whole spider family that is going to starve because you’re a spider murderer,” you reply, having to stop every few words to breathe. “And,” you stress, “her corpse is over there, discarded like she meant nothing.”

Eris kept his lips pressed tightly to keep from laughing at the sheer absurdity of his pregnant mate and his brother as they continued debating the morality of Lucien killing the spider. He watches his brother go to pick up the spider’s body, unlatching a window, and tossing it out before closing the window again, before turning to you, his face asking are you happy now?

You squeak at his callousness and disregard for it, asking, “is that what you shall do with me when I perish?”

Lucien rolls his eyes, “gods I don’t think I’ll be around to witness your death because all of the spiders across the land will kill me in vengeance for their fallen queen.”

Eris sits next to you, pulling you in towards his body, sending waves of love and joy through the bond to soothe you. You curl into him, grasping his shirt to cling onto.

“How could Lucien do such a thing…”

Lucien huffs before stalking off, muttering to himself about how he spends his free time in Autumn for you just to be disrespected for doing what you wanted him to.

You cry in his arms for a while, your sobs turning into hiccups. Eris places a hand on your bump, smoothing his thumb over it, applying a light heat so your babe knows who’s there.

“I think I scared Lucien away,” you finally say, voice shaky.

“Lucien is not so easily shaken. I’ve been trying for centuries to make him hate me, but my attempts are always unsuccessful.”

You smile, your sniffles the only sound for a few moments.

“If you really want Lucien to hate you, have him convicted for the murder of a spider.”

Eris’s eyes crinkle in amusement, “he would have a lot to say about that, I’m sure.”

“There aren’t many topics that he doesn’t have a lot to say on,” you smirk.

Eris stands up, his vest before extending a hand to you. You accept it, and he helps pull you up.

“I think it’d be funny if we told him we’re naming the babe Lulu,” you say, curling underneath Eris’s arm.

“I think he’d be more crushed to find out we aren’t.”

“That’s what’s funny about it.”

“Wicked, wicked female you are,” he croons, leading the two of you through the hall of the Forest House.

#eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x y/n #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris x reader #acotar fanfiction

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huicitawrites · 11 months

Text

The Hunt

Yandere! Miguel O' Hara x Fem! Spider! Reader

T/W: yandere (slow-burn(?)), dark fic, violence, assault, spoilers for across the spiderverse.

Status: rewritten.

Next Chapter

Word Count: 2,4k

"Y/N! Get. Back. Here. NOW", swinging away from an infuriated Miguel O'Hara wasn't something you had planned or ever thought would occur, never entertained the thought of it. At least not until now, as you desperately attempted to get away from him and somehow escape him- for your dimension-travel watch (as wild as the concept of it sounded) had been snatched by the same man that was madly hunting you down.

How did it even all come to this? Let's rewind, back to the beginning.

Part I

After being bitten by a radioactive spider in a school trip to Alchemax at the young age of 15, you obtained enhanced spider-like abilities: a sixth sense for perceiving danger, incredible reflexes, amazing parkour skills, extraordinary strentgh and flexibility.

And for the past ten years, you have been New York's one and only Spider-Woman.

Learning to use your powers was a whole trip on itself. They awakened rather clumsily -nothing a leap of faith could not fix- as you began to grasp the ropes of being a masked hero in your teenage years [it's safe to say that your teenage years were truly a heck of a rollercoaster].

Handling a double-life was not easy, that is something you have learned with your ten years experience. You saved a bunch of people and thus many lives, you won many times and saved the city countless more. Yet you also earned a bunch of dangerous criminals and villains tailing behind your back that would want to kill you without hesitation and harm you in any way possible.

In spite of the times you were beaten down, left made a mess in the ground, or at the brink of death- you would always get back up because you were Spider-Woman.

Sometimes, getting back up was hard.

The weight of the sake of the city was on your shoulders. And sometimes, that weight crushed you. When you lost your parents it was devastating, because not only had you failed as a hero, but as a daughter.

[Your dad perished in an attempt to save you from an attack of one of many enemies- the Green Goblin . You two happened to be on a ‘father and daughter’ outing in a nice dinner when the Green Goblin tried to draw out Spider-Woman from her hiding place in Brooklyn (unbeknownst of your true identity and much to your own misery and guilt.) After battling the Green Goblin and imprisoning him, you rose with your dead father in your arms, and an huge crack in your heart that would leave a deep scar.

Months later, your mother's followed suit. That day was chaotic, panic filled the streets of New York as The Rhino, a veteran soldier with super human strentgh and a high-techno advanced armor resembling a rhinoceros, laid waste to the city. You were evacuating all civilians nearby, swinging across and into buildings, picking up and scooping anyone you could encounter and putting them out of danger.

It happened as you held falling debris with your arms. You picked up wailing in between the many cries of people, and your spider-sense guided your eyes up from the ground.

A child, no older than five, was crying. He was glued to the floor, too overwhelmed by the calamity surrounding him. A wall from a building was falling on him and your heart beat raced. You still had people below you that were crawling out and the child was a or two block away. Your thoughts raced in your head, you had to save everyone, down to the last live.

"Come on, come on, come on" you muttered in between gritted teeth as you gathered power and lifted the debris into the air. With the help of your web shooter, you pulled all the remaining civilians out and casted aside the courtesy of double-checking as you swinged toward the child.

You could see how the wall fell over him, and you reached out your arm with your forearm out desperately, attempted to pull him out with your web but the wall was already about to touch his head and-

She pushed the child out of the danger, motherly instincts impulsing her feet at the cost of her own life. The child was pushed onto you and you brought him flush against you with your web, arms encasing him as you witnessed the wall collapse on her.

In shock and disbelief, you gently lowered the child to the ground and ran to the fallen wall. Once again in despair, you clawed through the debris and searched for your mother’s body.

You found her bruised and crushed, her face deformed. You brushed the dust off it. Her pained groan was faint, and you begged her right there and then not to leave you. Not to leave you alone, again.

“Is the kid al…?”

“Yes! Don’t, don’t talk. Help, help is coming. You have to stay, you have to.” But her eyes were already fading, and her limbs growing weak. Your disguised hand snatched up hers and you cried,

“Mom!”

She recognized your voice, the one she cherished the most. Her fading eyes gathered all the warmth they could muster and she reached out a quivering hand to your cheek. Her fingers slid into your mask, and she felt your tear stained skin.

“Ah my baby…[Y/n]…I’m so proud... Your father would be so proud... keep it up”. Her last words were voiced with strain, but you would always remember them.]

They became the fuel for your mission, and no matter how many times you were beaten to the ground and wounded to no end, you stood back up. You would save everyone else, no more deaths, you swore upon your parents' last moments.

Now in your adult life, you found yourself in a stable life besides the implications your side hustle not-so-side -hustle brought. You had an adequate job as a writer for small titles in a decent newspaper, and you had a department you shared with your childhood best friend, Peter Parker [who eventually became your tech-desk guy. Hiding your true identity from your best friend and roommate would have never lasted long anyway. You remember clearly the day you climbed into the living's window, beat up, bruised and tired, when the lights suddenly turned on and a Peter with crossed arms and an eyebrow raised was waiting for you like a parent whose child was past curfew. You were without your mask on. Nonetheless, after stuttering uncontrollably and failing to explain and just simply breaking down in front of him. Without saying any words, he took out the first aid kit and reassured you with a smile. You were so grateful to him.]

So now here you were, crouching on the top of The Clock Tower, the moonlight casting its light on your back and darkening your silhouette. Earlier in the day you dealt with some thugs and minor crimes, but since the sun fell nothing happened. That was odd, NYC was never quite, least of all times at night.

But your spider-sense was running, not rampant, but definetely there like annoying itch on the nape. Something had to be off, you knew it.

"Um, I'm not picking up anything, (Y/n). Maybe you should be calling it a night, you've been doing good work so far. You did lower the crime rate, after all."

"You sure Pete? There's this feeling in my gut and-"

"Your 'spidey- thingy' ?".

"Spider-sense, spidey-thingy sounds dumb" you answered with a small groan, rolling your eyes although he could not see the.

He chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he turned serious " but I'm not getting anything from anywhere. From police radios and stations to our own hidden cameras"

"Nothing? Sure?"

"I mean everything is awfully quiet now that I think about it... All I can pick up is glitching, let's see... let me do my thing and-" you could hear frantic typing through the comms of your suit within the mask, you could even picture Peter hunching and fixing his eyeglasses.

What he said left you pondering. Glitching? It couldn't be a coincidence that all the radio signals he could pick up were glitching.

"Aha! Here it is, your spidey-thingy was right." this time, you chuckled as if saying 'see?'. He continued, "-this should be a very hidden signal from the special forces team. Seems classified, man they should really put a little more money into whatever software they use to protect their privacy" and he pushed on one final 'enter', the glitching and static got louder almost startling you to which your friend apologized softly, but it evened out.

"Report the situation, Lieutenant Stacy"

"Requesting back-up right now, suspect is armed with advanced equipment, we are at the Port, South East, many of my men and women have been wounded and- oh, shit, shit" The man's words died down with the sound of something big crashing and breaking.

Well, that's your cue. You stood up on your toes and balanced you body weight forward, diving to the ground. With your limbs extended, you stretched your forearm and extended your wrist, web shooting out from the slick web shooter Peter designed.

Swinging from building to building under the night sky, you jumped across billboards and slid past tight spaces as you were heading to the location of the conflict, and the closer you swinged, the wilder your spider sense got.

When you arrived at the port, you saw a SWAT truck that was flipped over, it had a huge dent in the form of a what seemed to be a claw mark, and the windows had been broken. There were a few members on the floor, and you noticed there were two trying to lift the heavy vehicle.

"Let me help," you announced your presence and they whipped their heads. Their faces were glistening with sweat and dirt, and you could notice their equipment was damaged. You crouched and lifted the truck, there was one member there below, and his leg was twisted the other way, but he was breathing- well, panting.

Without further a do, the soldiers went and dragged out their friend. A soldier's face lit up, though they seemed hesitant [after all, your line of work was kind of controversial among the government and its forces] but they were thankful. "Thank you, Spider-Woman", their voice was genuine and you smiled below the mask.

"Your welcome, leave it to me" winking at them through your lense, you nodded and propelled yourself to the ceiling of the warehouse. You noticed a roof canopy at the center, lucky you, and brought the palm of your hand to it. Utilizing your sticky finger pads, you carefully removed a pane of glass and entered the building without making a sound.

"Be careful, please" Peter voiced with worry.

You hanged the web from it's strongest point at the peak, and slowly lowered yourself down until your hand gently brushed the cold floor . You got off the web and crawled in direction of the tingling of the spider-sense. You found some warehouse crates, pressed your back onto them, slowly leaning your head out to take a peak.

A man stood there, a middle aged man by the looks of him. He had a round pair of black sunglasses on and a large leather coat on, but the most outstanding feature was apparently behind him. Four metal tentacle-like arms sprouting from his back, with threatening looking claws. That had to be the thing that put such a dent in a SWAT vehicle, the advanced equipment you heard of in the interception.

He was ranting about something, speaking to himself. "The power of the sun at the palm of my hand, only to be ruined by that fucking-"

‘What is this man even talking about…’

His words died down in your ears as it took a few seconds for your spider-sense to peak, and you scrunched your face features. Your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes squinted, cheeks squeezing up and causing the lenses of the mask to stretch and flatten.

"(Y/n)? Found anything yet?" Peter inquired.

"This man... I think I know him... but also not..." At this point, your spider-sense was rampant. Your gaze still confused as you tried to decipher him. Your spider sense was alerting you of this oddly familiar feeling. It was someone you had dealt with before, but also someone new. Simply off-putting.

Then the realization fell on you, his tentacle-like arms.

"Is that Doc Ock!?" Without getting a hold of your reaction, you accidentally raised your voice and revealed your location. Your spider-sense tingled again, this time, sensing imminent danger as you backflipped and dodged the incoming attack. The crate you were hiding behind of was broken into splinters.

"Come on out, Spider-Man!" he shouted, his voice in pure anger.

Spider-Man? As long as you remember, you never referred to your disguised self as Spider-Man...

"It's Spider-Woman, mind you" You revealed yourself off the shadows, and the light basked in your costume, revealing its signature colors and design. "Do I know you by chance?" you tited your head, inquisitive in your tone as you were trying to figure things out.

The man's expression fell, and his rage was replaced by annoyance.

"Is this some kind of sick joke, Spider-Man? Have you forgotten the name of the man whose work of life you ruined, Otto Octavius." His tongue rolled of his name with spite and you widened your eyes.

"Doc Ock? But, you are different. You are totally human". Last time you checked, Doc Ock was a mad scientist that turned himself half-octopus by bioengineering his genetics in the name of some sort of sick evolution idea. He had tried to turn the city into mutants like himself for 'the sake of humanity's future' and you managed to stop his plans. Furthermore, he had been sent to a high-security prison for villains, where an anti-serum is being developed to turn him back and halt his aggression.

"Are you pulling my leg Spider-Man?" He said with disbelief, and he began to appear more and more angry by the second. He muttered something below his breath, and you swore you saw one of his tentacles turn toward his face as if it were sentient and listening...

"I've told you it's Spider-Woman." You huffed out, chest puffing out. You had a bad feeling about this...

The man's hand ran down his own face and he groaned, visibly tired. "Well, whatever, but you do appear to be an ally of Peter Parker's, your costume and your name leave little room for further speculation". The mention of your friend raised up your guard, how did he know Pete? Any doubts and hesitation erased themselves of your mind, for your friend could be in lethal danger.

"Oh? What's the matter, 'Spider-Woman'," he sneered.

"Picked right on the web, hmm?" He edged on, a dangerous smirk dancing on his face and two claws raising up in the air, ready to pounce.

There was not much to it, as you jumped sideways to dodge whatever that clawed-tentacle-armor was. You found yourself right back at the gig, fighting a villain as the one and only Spider-Woman.

Or so you thought.

A/n: Hi! So when I first saw this fictional man I KNEW I had to write about him, originally, it was going to be a long one shot, but I decided to break it into parts. I expect this story to be up to 3 parts or 4 as most. Anyhow, I hope you come to like it!, and sorry for the long- ass intro, I really wanted to dwelve deeper into reader as a spider person. Next is the real thing. I have seen some people have asked me to tag them, so don’t be shy to ask too!

#yandere #yandere x reader #self insert #yandere blog #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #miguel o hara x reader #yandere miguel #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o' hara x reader #across the spiderverse #yandere across the spiderverse #female reader #yandere spiderman 2099 #yandere spiderman #spiderman 2099 x reader

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delphi-shield · 4 months

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OLD FOLKS HOME ↪ age gap hcs

the people you love & the shit they do that reminds you of the dreaded Gap (tm). characters included: leon kennedy, chris redfield, jill valentine, claire redfield, rebecca chambers no warnings to speak of. remember kids, if you're gonna date people in their 30s and 40s, you're gonna have different cultural contexts and, most likely, different senses of humor.

Leon is eight levels of irony deep. He started doing Old Guy Shit just to mess with you, and now it's all come full circle.

It turns out he actually likes watching the weather channel. He’s monitoring storms that are miles and miles away from you, pointing out the feeder bands like it’s some kind of sporting event.

He's genuinely invested in Ice Road Truckers. He asks you to TiVo it for him when he's gone. You do not have TiVo. In fact, you're pretty sure no one still has TiVo.

Or you were, until Leon once again committed to the bit and got TiVo.

Really, genuinely annoying about old movies, actors, and directors.

”What do you mean you don’t know who Robert Redford is? The Candidate? Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? C’mon. He was even in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You’ll know him when you see him.”

At least you get movie dates out of it.

Movie dates that he will pepper with trivia about the film, by the way. You don't need the commentary track. He is the commentary.

I'm so, so sorry about this. 🤪 is his favorite emoji. I know. I'm sorry.

Chris cannot fucking hear. To be honest, I think most of them have some degree of hearing loss - but Chris in particular seems to have very subjective hearing loss.

Yes, you were just having a full-fledged conversation. No, he didn’t hear you ask him to take out the trash. He didn’t forget, he just didn’t hear you. Sorry, you were standing on his right - come on, you know that’s his bad side.

Explains basic technology to you because he’s not sure if you know what it is. Then, in the same breath, crams in so many military acronyms he may as well be reciting the alphabet. Does not explain the acronyms.

Like, yeah, Chris. I know what a landline is. Dial-up internet, too. Now, what the fuck is an ORE?

Have you ever gotten ‘ok’ in response to a nude? You’re about to. Completely demoralizing, by the way.

He didn't know you wanted him to compose a poem dedicated to your beauty, okay? He tries to get better, but winds up sending shit like 'wow 👍'

Does the dad thing where he insists he's not interested in watching what's on TV and then stands with his hands on his hips in the middle of the living room, enthralled by the show.

Jill does not understand your music. She will not make an attempt to understand your music. If you see her tapping her foot to the beat, no you do not. She is not interested in expanding her musical horizons.

She only bought you tickets to that concert because she knew you would love it. She only went with you because you’re cute when you’re so into this stuff. She only bought that t-shirt because it would be a good souvenir, and eventually, a good grease rag.

Generalized distrust of social media. Do not show her a tiktok. She will ignore the video and lecture you about data safety. Jill, please. Just watch the fucking cat video.

And then she turns around and opts in to literally everything on the McDonald's app.

If there’s a rewards program, she’s in. Already sold. Didn’t even read the fine print. All that shit she was telling you about how you need to be more careful is right out the window for some free fries.

Anything for the thrill of a good deal. If she had more time on her hands, she would be couponing.

Buys in bulk. No, it doesn't matter if the two of you could not physically eat that much rice. It's cheaper to buy it like this. It's fine. It's good for you.

Gotta stock up on non-perishables, too. You gotta be prepared in case something happens. "Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."

Claire cannot stop shopping from QVC. She's in the kitchen with David. It Takes Two with Mary and Sandra? Wrong. It actually takes three. Mary, Sandra, and Claire.

Infomercials have got her by the throat. You have so many gadgets and gizmos around your home that are just collecting dust.

Gets wine drunk and goes online shopping. Legitimately does not remember what she’s bought.

Absolutely will not let you open the packages. (“Some of this stuff could be for you, you know.” “Claire, last time it was a 10,000 count package of googly eyes.” “And I used all 10,000. You still haven’t found them all.”)

Uses every piece of technology until it’s about to fall apart. Absolutely not interested in having the latest and greatest. She’s one of those people who insists that as long as her phone can make calls and send texts, she doesn’t need a new one.

Speaking of texts. Somehow, she got it into her head that a read receipt is equivalent to a reply. She doesn't get what the problem is. You know she saw your text. Why does she have to reply?

Genuinely doesn't mean anything malicious by it - but also, if you did that to her, you would never hear the end of it.

Rebecca legitimately has facebook humor. They all have some degree of facebook humor, but she's got it the worst.

Will blow up your notifications tagging you in shit that is just straight up not funny. I’m talking full on tagging you with “😂😂😂”

Unironically sent you a minion meme once.

It's not that she's disconnected. She teaches undergrads. She knows what’s in, even if it’s only from the periphery. It’s just that she doesn’t care. She has no interest in keeping up with trends just for the sake of it. She’s so used to being the youngest person in the room and having to keep up expectations that she just absolutely does not care anymore. She's glad she's not one of the kids anymore.

If it made her laugh it made her laugh, her enjoyment isn’t shackled by feelings of shame!!

If you have a group chat on any platform with your friends please invite her. She's just happy to be included. She'll make a discord if she has to, and she'll brag about it to her students.

Yeah, she says pupper and doggo. She does. Look at her.

#resident evil headcanons #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #chris redfield x reader #jill valentine x reader #claire redfield x reader #rebecca chambers x reader #resident evil fanfic #resident evil #leon kennedy

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 5 months

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Daddy’s Home (Dom!Gojo x Sub!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fucking clothes off.”

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It’s been 3 years. You believe your fiancé is dead. You’ve been attempting to move forward in your life without him there beside you. You try to grieve properly in order to move on….until he comes home. And he’s more than ready to make up lost time.

Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS; Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Grief; Mentions of Depression, Death & Suicide; Alcohol/Drug Use; Feral!Gojo; Rough Sex; Ripping Clothes; Dirty Talk; Cunnilingus; Forced Deepthroating; Face-Fucking; Multiple Positions; Gojo Giving You Deep Dick; Breeding Kink; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Cum Eating; Ownership; Gojo Makes You a Mommy; Aftercare; Degradation; Petnames: Baby; Little Girl; Mama; Sweetheart

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

*IMPORTANT NOTE: In the manga, Gojo is only sealed for 19 days, but in the time of the rest of the manga being written and illustrated, it was 3 years. So the timeline of his being sealed and freed will be 3 years.

Writer’s Note: I’m coping. AND celebrating my man's birthday!! The happiest birthday (and week and month) to my favorite boi! 💙💙💙 -Jazz

********

You’ve never felt such pain before.

It isn't pain that can simply be fixed with a band-aid or a kiss, like a scrape or a cut. It is a deep, cavernous, emotional pain that you have never experienced before...not before losing your fiance. The man you adored and cherished. Your best friend. Your soulmate. Your sunshine peeking through the dark, gray clouds.

But since losing him, all your days are washed with gray. You can't stand any sunny days now, knowing that he loved them and would want to do something–anything–to seize them. "C'mon, baby, let's go get some ice cream!" he'd cheerfully shout. Or "let's go biking" or "wanna take a walk in the park with me?"

Now, all you do is lay in bed and watch the days go by, the pain you feel too much. You've never experienced something so profound and intense. It causes you to cry every single morning into the night until the pink of dawn comes again.

It's been like this for three years now since you lost him forever. It still feels weird to say that: forever. You thought you'd have forever with him, but it was ripped away from you all that time ago during the Shibuya incident. It was a bloody war, from what you've heard; a massacre. So many innocent people perished.

The lives that were spared were among the other Sorcerers and his students, including Nobara who managed to survive Mahito's attack . You visited her all that time she spent in the hospital after the attack as the doctors worked to save her eye. In the end, she lost it, but gained a false one just last year that looks exactly like her real one.

Nanami also survived. It was a close call, apparently. Yuji had found him and attacked Mahito before Nanami could face his violent death. Half of his face and body are completely scalped, but he doesn't try to cover them. They are his battle scars; a reminder of what he is fighting for. He still resides in Japan though you've all been telling him to retire and go to Malaysia. "Not until he's back," he'd fiercely say. "I'm not resting until he's out of that damn box."

He checks on you as do Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara, to ensure you're okay. Shoko spent the night with you a few times until you firmly told her to stop. "I'm not gonna slit my wrists or anything," you scoffed. Shoko pursed her lips at you as she smoked her cigarette on your balcony. "No, but you might drink yourself to death first," she mumbled.

And yes, you have been drinking. You've also been smoking. Weed and alcohol are all that cure the pain, at least for a little while. You don't have to see his dazzling smile or snow-white hair behind your eyelids when you fall asleep high as a kite. It's unhealthy and you know that, but what else can you do?

You have nothing to live for anymore. Your fiance is gone. You try to tell the others this, who have worked tirelessly all this time to find a way to bail him out. 'It's been three years!' you think. 'If they haven't found a way yet, they never will. He is never getting out of that box or the Prison Realm.' And that is the sad, horrible truth.

You curl yourself into a ball now, wrapped in one of his crisp button-up shirts, naked underneath. It is twelve in the afternoon. You haven't eaten or gotten dressed, only showered and brushed your teeth (after Shoko sent you a text to do so). Tears stain your eyes which still sting from your sob session the night before. "Satoru," you whimper into the pillows. "Come back to me, please."

You know this isn't possible, but you wish to God or whoever makes miracles happen that it was. How can you live in a world, in a realm, where your love isn't here? You were going to get married, in spring of 2024. He had promised you after a wonderful night of dinner, champagne, and dancing on a private yacht he ordered just for you two.

When he got down on those long legs, one knee propped up, and presented you with that box, you could feel yourself melt. "After all of this is over," he promised, "after I make this world safer for you, let's do it, baby. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." He gave you that big, gigawatt, hopeful smile as you felt tears pour down your cheeks, ruining your makeup. "You up for seein' this face forever?" he joked.

That night, you answered him. Over and over again, making love until morning. Until you were both spent and ached so good from twisting your bodies in a hundred different positions. Until your thighs were soaked with his cum and all you could see, hear, and smell was him.

You were more than prepared to spend the rest of your life like that with him...and now, that's all gone. A fresh wave of grief overcomes you and you grip the pillow, stuffing your face into it. Once again, you say the same words you've been saying for three years like a prayer: "Satoru, come back to me. Please."

BANG!

The sound is so loud and abrupt that it scares you. You sit up immediately, your heart lurching into your throat. You look around the room only to find it empty, but then hear the familiar sound of the front door closing from downstairs. Someone is here. But who?

"H-Hello?" you call. "Shoko, is that you?"

No answer. It is completely silent all except for the birds chirping outside your window which only adds to the ominous feeling of the situation at hand. You never gave Shoko a spare key to your home and you're the only one who can get in and out. So who the fuck is in your house?

You then hear the familiar sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, one by one, as if the stranger is taking his sweet time doing so. You instantly reach for your phone to dial 911 and retreat to the bathroom across the room, but stop when a shadow crosses the bedroom wall, and then a figure appears in the threshold of the bedroom you used to share with your fiance.

You stare at the figure hard as if it's difficult for you to decipher it, but it's impossible not to know who it is. You can tell from how tall he is as he stands there, towering over you in the doorway. You can tell from his lean body sinewy with muscles under his black clothes. You can tell from his pale skin, snow-white hair you used to love to run your fingers through, and iced, blue eyes that stare right through you.

That same lovely, adorable, sexy, dazzling grin crosses his pillowy-soft, pink lips as he stares at you from across the room. “Honey, I’m home," Gojo chirps as if he just walked in from a hard day at work.

You stare him down, afraid to move or speak in fear of ruining this or exposing it for what it is: a trick. A mirage. A hallucination caused by too much alcohol or weed (unlikely, but still). Is this a dream? Are you dead? Did you go ahead and drink yourself to death like Shoko foresaw?

He walks toward you, slowly as if to not frighten you further. You stay on the bed, afraid to move. You're trembling. He finally stops just at arm's length from you, that same smile and warm gaze still on his face. “T-Tarou?” you whisper, finding your voice.

“In the flesh," he replies in that easy, sexy drawl that you've always loved. So careless. So laidback. His expression grows concerned, his brows drawn together. “How ya doin’, baby?” he asks. Your heart flips at the sound of that pet name. You haven't heard it in so, so long.

You scamper towards him, wanting to get closer to him, but then stop, afraid to. He doesn't react to either, still standing there and waiting for you to process this. “No,” you whisper. “This isn’t real. I’m just high as fuck right now.” You put your hands in your hair, gripping the dark coils/braids/locs/curls/twists harshly.

You know that this isn't possible. You haven't touched any weed since yesterday morning, wanting to give yourself a break. Gojo whistles as he nods at the bong sitting on your bedside table. “Well, judging from that, probably so. You got any left? I could use it after the 3 years I’ve had.”

You don't answer. You barely even breathe, afraid to do so in fear of putting a tear in the fabric of this moment and ripping it apart. You still can't tell if this is really happening. Is it a trick of your cursed grief making you see shit? Could it be that a Curse is here and has somehow taken over Gojo's body, and now, they're here to kill you? You would rather take that than this uncertainty.

Gojo suddenly raises his hand toward you as if to touch you, but doesn't. “Touch me," he encourages. Though hesitant, you lift a tentative hand and stroke your fingers over his veiny arm. All you feel is solid, soft, warm skin. Gojo's smile gets bigger. “See? I’m real. It’s really me, baby.”

And suddenly, the fog over your mind has been cleared and you can see clearly. All is for certain, including that the man standing here is your man. Your 'Tarou. “It’s really you,” you whimper. “Oh, my God….oh, my God!” You can't stop the tears or the blubbering as relief and utter joy wash over you.

Gojo opens your arms for you and he barely budges as you shoot into them, not even making him stagger. You bury your head in his chest, breathing in his scent and moving your hands over his back muscles. “I’ve missed you,” you sob. “I’ve missed you so, so much, Satoru! It’s been awful!”

He holds you tight to him, solid and absolutely real. “Shhh, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he coos. “I would’ve come back sooner, but I had to take care of some things.”

You pull away to look up at him through your blurred vision. He doesn't appear hurt or bruised. In fact, he looks the exact same he did before he was sealed in that box. “What do you–“

“And I’ll tell you everything after I get some pussy.”

You pause, processing his abrupt words. “What?” you scoff. “But what about all that's happened? How'd you even escape the Prison Realm? Have you eaten or drank? What about–"

Gojo, impatient, presses a long finger to your lips. “Forget about all of that right now, Y/N. Worry about the fact that you haven’t seen me in three years and you’re dying for me to put you in the mattress again.”

Then that familiar, dark, lustful look crosses his eyes like an eclipse, taking over him. “I think you’re understanding me clearly," he says, his voice dipping an octave lower than usual. “Daddy’s home, baby. Now take your fuckin’ clothes off.”

You stare at him hard, wondering if he is serious. You haven’t seen him in three years. You have so many more questions to ask him. Like what did he do while sealed? Did he see Yuji, Megumi and Nobara before he came? Were they the ones that got him out? Is he okay?

But from the way he is staring you down like he wants to take a piece of you, you can tell that all of those questions will have to just wait to be answered. Plus, the last one is already answered for you: no, he isn’t okay. He is fucking feening for you. He needs you. You can tell from the way his hands grip you closer and from the feeling of his semi hard-on pressing into your thigh from inside his pants.

You can’t imagine what three years without sex was like and you don’t want to. So you’re more than happy to give him whatever he is looking for right now. “O-Okay, Gojo,” you softly stutter. Your hands move to his top to unbutton it, first starting at the bottom. But your hands fumble and shake as if this is the first time you’re doing this for him.

“Takin’ too long,” Gojo growls, impatient. Tearing your hands away from his shirt, he immediately rips the $1,000 top off of you, revealing your laced bra and panties underneath. You squeak as he does so, alarmed. “Gojo, your shirt!” you gasp, especially when the buttons fly all over the place.

“Forget the fuckin’ shirt,” he says, his voice all but a rasp. "I’ll get a new one. It’s not fair how sexy you look in my clothes, sweetheart.” He presses his lips to your chest, breathing you in for a moment. “God, I’ve missed your smell,” he sighs. “I’ve missed how you feel. I’ve missed you so, so much.” He pulls away then, looking down at your hand. “And you’re still wearing the ring,” he points out.

You look down at your hand where the sterling silver engagement ring sits, its diamonds sparkling at you. “Of course,” you whisper. “I never took it off. I’m engaged to you.” You want to tell him that you always dreamed he’d come back, that you wanted him to see you with it when he did.

“So there’s been no one else?” he suddenly asks, his eyes sizing you up. “You haven’t been with any other man besides me?” Immediately, you shake your head. “No, Daddy,” you whisper, immediately falling back into the soft, obedient, submissive state that you always slide into with him as if it’s natural to you. And it is. He makes you feel so safe and loved and kept. It’s impossible not to do so all for him. “There’s been no one,” you say. “No one can ever make me feel the way you do.”

A crooked smirk crosses Gojo’s lips that has you quivering in between your thighs. “So one has played with this body but me?” he asks. “No one has played with that pussy but me?” Again, you shake your head, your breath becoming short and labored. His eyes seem to dark even more, becoming an ocean blue. “That’s what I wanna hear,” he whispers. Then his lips are finally, finally, on yours, his tongue dancing and swirling with yours, creating a wet, sloppy, feverish kiss that takes your breath away.

You moan wantonly into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him. Oh, how you’ve missed this. How you’ve only prayed to feel these lips again. At some point during the dizzying kissing session, Gojo pulls his clothes off, breaking apart from you to strip himself of his shirt, pants, and shoes, leaving himself in his designer briefs that look way tighter than usual.

Actually, now that you’re noticing it, his entire body looks buffer than usual. Gojo has always had muscles but was leaner three years ago. Now, his muscles are more defined, pushing up against his shirt when he has it on.

He smirks at your wandering eyes. “Something you like, mama?” he purrs. He takes your hand, running it over his hard abs and chiseled abs where his pink nipples are hard for you, ready to be sucked. “Something…different?”

“It’s just…you’re so…” You shudder in delight as he slides your hand down his stomach that you could bake cookies on. “Big,” you decide, running your free hand up his forearm. “You don’t have much to do in the Prison Realm except work out and masturbate,” he chuckles. “I wanted to be bigger and stronger for you when I was finally free. And I wanna let you know something, baby.” He leans in then, pressing his lips against your ear. “It’s all yours,” he whispers. “This body…this cock…everything. All of it is yours.”

You shudder again as his dirty words swirl in your mind. He pulls away, smirking at you. “Lemme show you what I mean.” Then, instantly, he is snapping off your bra and flinging it away before his lips and hands are latching to your nipples. He sucks and licks at your hard, brown nipples like a hungered man, his hands groping the sensitive globes and pinching your nipples with his long, piano fingers. “Look at these beautiful fuckin’ titties,” he says, more to himself than to you. “I’ve missed my girls so much.”

Your head falls back and your mouth opens, captured by the pleasure he is giving you. “S-Satoru,” you whimper. Every graze of his teeth and lick of his skillful tongue has your pussy gushing. You haven’t been this wet in three years! Actually, you haven’t even been horny in three years. No one has ever been able to arouse you the way Gojo can.

You find yourself rolling your hips against his knee as your hands grasp his broad shoulders for balance and leverage. Gojo hums as you grind your wet, panty-covered pussy against his knee, smirking up at you playfully. “Grindin’ that pussy on my leg, hm?” he tuts. “Even after three years, you’re still a little slut. I wouldn’t have it any other way though.”

He gives one of your titties one last suck before he shoves himself away from you. You stare up at him, confused, while he only gives you a stern look. “Get on the bed and open your legs. I need that pussy in my face.”

You are helpless to refuse him, especially when your pussy is begging and sobbing for the same thing. You quickly hurry onto the bed and sit back onto your elbows as you open your legs for him. Gojo is between them immediately, his hands ripping off your panties as if they are no more than strings. As soon as he gets a look at your puffy, wet pussy leaking for him, he groans and his cock visibly twitches in his pants. “Shit,” he hisses. “I’ve missed her too.”

And then he’s giving in like he would the cleanest, purest, bluest waters, his hands under your ass to give him a better angle and a better way to plunge his tongue deeper inside you. He laps and sucks at your pussy and sensitive clit, his tongue flicking and swirling around your hole like he needs it. Craves it.

You grab at his hair, pushing his head deeper into you as you wail and moan to the heavens above. “O-Oh, my God!” you cry out to the ceiling. “‘Tatoru, yes, more! Please give me more! Don’t stop!”

Your voice bounces off of the bedroom walls, unbound and unashamed. You haven’t had this kind of pleasure––so intense and explosive––in so long. His wet mouth and soft lips feel so good. His nose brushing against your clit as his tongue swirls inside your pussy is beyond. You feel incredible…too incredible. Gojo works his mouth fast, pulling you quickly towards an orgasm that gathers in your core and threatens to tumble down over you.

“Wait, Daddy!” you protest. “Slow down! ‘M gonna cum too fast!”

Gojo’s blue eyes peer up at you through long, white lashes as he continues to lap at your cunt. “Do it,” he demands. “‘Cause I’m finna make you cum as many times as I want to. I’ll make you cream your pretty brains out till dawn, baby. I’m making up for lost time.”

He ducks back down, going faster, and even adding his long index and middle fingers inside of the wet, tight depths of your pussy. Your walls clench around him instantly as he expertly finds your G-spot and begins gliding his fingers up against it, encouraging you to cum with every stroke of his fingers and tongue. “Do it,” he orders. “Cum for me. Cum around my fingers and my tongue, gorgeous. I’ve got you. I promise.”

And you know he does. He grips one of your hips with one hand as he finger fucks you with the other, humming “mm-hmm” and other encouraging words that are smothered by your pussy as he drags you closer to your orgasm. When it finally breaks, it crashes onto you like a wave, causing your back to arch off of the bed like you’re experiencing an exorcism. “Fuck!” you sob as you feel your body shake and shudder through your earth-shattering orgasm.

Moans of Gojo’s government and curses to the stars leave your lips as Gojo carries you through your mind-blowing, body-shaking, earth-quaking orgasm…and even after, when your body aches and your heart is pounding, he continues to eat your pussy.

He continues to lap and suck at your lips, cleaning up the cum that dribbles out your hole and down your asscrack. He licks there too, moaning breathlessly and wantonly as he does. Finally, when he is good and satisfied, he pulls away from you and sits back onto his hands, breathing heavily with his chin and lips shiny with your juices and his saliva.

A weak moan leaves your lips as your pussy twitches in delight and exhaustion at being stimulated. You feel so, so good. So free. You finally feel as if the sun has finally shown itself behind the gray clouds that have darkened your life for three years. You look at your man adoringly, wanting him to know how much you love him and how good he has made you feel. “Gojo,” you sigh. “That was amazing. I–“

“Open your mouth,” he demands. You button your lip, your words failing you immediately. You stare at him blankly, your post-orgasm brain not quite processing his words. Gojo sits up on his knees on the mattress, grabbing his cock in his pants. “You fuckin’ heard me,” he growls. “Open that slutty mouth, now. Don’t make me tell you again, little girl.” He pins you down with an intimidating look that is only intensified by his sapphire eyes.

Once again, you can’t deny him. While still recovering from your orgasm, you open your mouth wide for him, your plump lips covering your teeth and your tongue out. Just the way he likes it. Gojo walks towards you on his knees and stays beside you as he unbuttons his pants. In one swift motion, he takes down his pants and his briefs, causing his cock to pop out. The long, thick, veiny appendage, bubbling with pre-cum from its pink head, lightly slaps you in the face, causing you to gasp.

Gojo grabs your neck rather roughly, pulling you towards his cock without properly preparing you or waiting for you to prepare yourself. You stare down at his large dick, alarmed at how hard he is. The veins in his shaft throb as does his head that is quickly turning from a soft pink to an angry red. “Gojo, hold up–“

But your words are interrupted by his cock sliding between your lips. A hiss of relief leaves Gojo’s lips as he grips your neck, beginning to rut his hips deep into your mouth. “Sorry, mama,” he groans, “but I can’t be nice to that throat today. I’m just too pent-up. You understand, right?”

You can’t even answer. His cock is too thick; too big; it stretches your mouth out too wide, making your jaw hurt. But all you have to do is breathe through your nose and take it, which Gojo tells you to do so, as he begins to fuck your throat like it’s your pussy. Like it’s his own personal fleshlight.

“Fuckin’ fuck yes!” Gojo loudly grunts, his voice completely primal and animalistic as he roughly fucks your throat. Though he has fucked your throat before, this time, it feels much, much different. He grips your hair and makes your scalp sting with how much he pulls it. He plunges your throat so fast and so hard in your sloppy throat that saliva drips down your chin and down your tits. He turns your face into his fuck toy, doing with it as he pleases.

But though primal and animalistic, he is still completely involved with your pleasure. When you suddenly feel his fingers quickly rubbing your clit after licking his palm, your body lurches and your thighs twitch while you whine and protest feebly around his cock. “Theeeere we go,” he chuckles. “That’s what I want. Feel good with me, mama. This is where your weak, right? Right here?”

He applies more pressure, rubbing your rosebud in time with his thrusts into your throat, his balls swinging against your chin. All you can feel, taste, and smell is him. Your senses are completely overtaken by him. “T-Tawou!” You moan around his cock. “Two mwuch! ‘M sensitive!” Your words are a muffled, jumbled mess around his thick dick, causing more spit to fall from your mouth as you try to speak.

You go to close your legs, but Gojo’s hand yanking on your hair stops you short. “Uh-uh, sweetie,” he teasingly says. “Don't pull away. You owe me this.” He pushes your head farther down his cock, bottoming out in your mouth, causing him to moan so loud that it echoes in the bedroom. “You owe me this for stayin’ so damn sexy after so long. How is that even possible?” He questions you repeatedly as he fucks your throat harder and faster, grunting as he does so. "How's that possible, huh? Huh? Tell me, baby.”

You are turned into a total and complete hole the more he fucks your mouth and flicks your clit, bringing you to yet another orgasm that has your thighs shaking. Finally, he releases your hair and lets you pull away, causing his cock to pop out of your mouth. “Gonna cum!” you whine, spit and cum all over your mouth. “I’m cummin’ again, Satoru!”

Gojo stares at your pussy like a kid in a candy store as you cum once again, gushing all around his long fingers and all over the bedsheets. “Gooood girl!” he praises you. “Cum on these fingers, baby. Gimme what I want, but don't get too distracted, mmkay?” He takes his cock and slides himself back home into your mouth even as you moan and your body writhes on the bed.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, transfixed by the way your body moves and your pussy clenches. “That’s what I want. This is what I need.”

He rubs at your clit until he can feel your exhausted body jerking from the aftershocks. He finally pulls away from you then, cock and all, though he is still hard and throbbing. “I need to fuck you now,” he growls, desperation in his eyes. “And I can’t stop until I cum inside you, baby…without a rubber. Is that okay with you?”

You blink at him, your sight slightly blurred from the two orgasms and your throat raw from it being fucked into oblivion. He must know that you will say yes. He must know that you’ll say yes to anyone he wants or needs. But yet, he still asks because safe sex has always been a priority with him in your relationship. He has always used condoms and has always made a point to not do anything involving PIV sex if he happened to run out.

But now, here he is, telling you that he needs to fuck you raw and cum inside you, possibly breeding you. And you find yourself burning for the same thing like a wildfire has lit inside you. You lean back against the pillows and open your cum-soaked thighs for him, showing him your glistening, puffy, sensitive pussy. “Yes,” you reply. “Fuck me, Daddy. Cum inside me. Breed me.”

Gojo stares at your pussy, spread open for him like it’s spun gold. Suddenly, the loving, silly, goofy man you’ve grown to love is gone, replaced with one who is starved, rough, demanding, and merciless. It thrills and frightens you.

“Oh, you’re gonna fuckin’ get it, girl,” he growls before he grabs you, tosses you onto your back, and gets on top of you. “I’m gonna fuck you till you’re spent,” he promises as he throws your legs over his shoulders and prepares to slide deep inside of you until his balls touch your ass.

When he says this, he means it. Baby, Gojo has you in every position known to man.

He starts first by fucking you in missionary, giving you deep, deep dick that nearly touches your soul and makes you see stars. One of his big, veiny hands wraps around your throat, squeezing gently on your windpipe, while the other pins your thigh open as his cock plunges in and out of your wet, sobbing cunt. He pounds you into the mattress, his big body pressing against yours and his hips nailing your pelvis.

Then he has you on top in 69, his hands groping and smacking your jiggly ass while he, once again, stuffs his face in your cunt. You suck his dick in time with his tongue laps, gagging and slobbering all over his cock much to his delight. It is sloppy and dirty and messy…and you love every minute of it.

You love how his pubic hairs tickle your chin the deeper you slide him down your throat. You love how your eyes sting with tears as he tickles the back of your throat. You love the way his tongue slides from your pussy hole to your asshole, lapping at each one as if they’re the best things he’s ever tasted.

He fucks on your back, hanging off the bed. He fucks you on your stomach, your ass tooted up while his feet are firmly planted on the bed, hammering his dick deep inside of you. He sucks you on your side, his hands cupping your jiggling breasts while his lips caress your neck and shoulder. And he makes you cum every. Single. Time.

By the time he has you on your knees with his cock buried deep in your pussy once again and your arms pulled behind your back, your body is aching for rest and your pussy is a mushy, gushy mess around his cock.

But still you persist, moaning and screaming at the top of your lungs the harder he fucks you. Your voice, along with his own, the creaking bedsprings, and the sound of skin slapping against skin, fills the air around you. “Yes, yes, Daddy, yes, fuck me!” you babble, your words a jumbled mess.

Gojo cackles from behind you, loving how slutty and broken you are on his cock. “You feelin’ good, baby?” he asks. “This dick makin’ you feel good? Don’t have to use those damn toys or those fingers anymore, no. You’ve got me now and I’ll take good, good care of this pussy.”

He slams his hips harder against your ass, making it bounce and jiggle. The harder he goes, the more intense your orgasm gets and you find yourself about to have your sixth orgasm of the day…or night. Is it nighttime now? You can't tell. You’ve been at this for hours, fucking and cumming all over the bed. You don't even know what day it is anymore.

All you can think about is Gojo’s dick and cumming on it. “Shit, I’m gonna cum again!” you sob.

Gojo’s hand circles around your throat, choking you. “Cum on this dick,” he demands. “Do it! Fuckin’ do it for me, baby!”

And you do. Like a puppet on a string being controlled by the white-haired, big-dicked man behind you, you writhe in the air and cum all over his cock. A weak, long moan leaves your lips as you come undone, all self-control leaving you. Gojo pulls out of you with a hiss, talking about how “fuckin’ tight” you are. When you’re released, your arms fall to your sides as you crumble onto the mattress, falling face-first into the pillow. Your body is hot and sweaty, your pussy is twitching, your ass is stinging from his assault on it. You are completely spent.

Gojo leans down to kiss your forehead, smiling at your exhaustion. “Aww, is my baby tired now?” he coos. You weakly moan in response, too tired to speak. “Too bad because I still need to cum inside you. You did ask me to breed you and I’ve gotta make this count.”

Before you can even protest, he is grabbing your weak body and forcing you onto your knees, hiking your ass up for him. He sinks into your overly sensitive, used pussy once more, drawing a moan out of both of you. You let him do as he pleases, too exhausted to fight or argue.

He takes hold of your hips and ruts into you like his life depends on it, nailing that spot again and again that makes you see the entire universe behind your eyelids. It feels so damn good. He fucks you at a breakneck pace, going faster with each second that passes. “O-Oh, s-shit!” you scream into the mattress. “F-Fuck, Daddy, f-f-u-uck!”

Gojo’s fucking is egged on by your moans, his pelvis slamming into your ass and taking your very breath away. “Take this cock,” he groans. “Take all of this dick, baby. It’s yours. All of it is fuckin’ yours. It always was and always will be.” He hikes up his leg and fucks you on one knee, causing him to grow louder and his moans to become more desperate and needy.

“God, I missed this!” he whines. “I’ve been fucking burning for you, baby. Needed you so, so much!” You picture him in the Prison Realm, his hand wrapped around his cock as he is surrounded by darkness and loneliness. As tears spring into your eyes, you lift yourself up onto weak arms to look back at him. “Then show me,” you whisper. “Show me how much you’ve missed me. Cum inside me, ‘Tarou, baby.”

You begin to toss your ass back into him, meeting his every thrust. Gojo takes what you give him and serves it right back, moving in tandem with you. “You want me to cum?” he asks. You nod, moaning and whimpering as you feel his cock begin to swell inside you. “You want me to feel that pussy up?” he grunts. “Want me to make you a mommy? Want me to give you a kid? My kid?”

He begins to pound your pussy into the mattress again, picking up speed. You can feel your last orgasm rising, ready to rip through you. “Say it to me, mama,” he demands. “Tell me you want my baby. Lemme hear it.”

“Yes!” you cry out. “Yes, Satoru, I want your child! I wanna mother your baby!” That must please Gojo because he begins rolling his hips harshly against your ass, rutting into you like he’s trying to fit a home run. His handsome face is red and glittering in sweat, his snow-white hair plastered to his wet forehead.

“Can’t wait to see you full with me,” he groans. “Can’t wait till this tummy is round with my baby and those tits are full of milk. You’re gonna look so, so pretty carryin’ my baby, sweetheart. You’re gonna be the best mommy ever.”

And he’ll be the best daddy ever. That is all you can think as you feel your own orgasm rising at the same time as him, like the sun and the moon rising in unison in the sky. Forever bonded. Forever together.

“Gonna cum,” Gojo warns. “Gonna cum deep inside you. You’d better cum with me too. Cum all over my cock, baby. Cum with me while I fill this little pussy up.”

You nod and wail into the pillow, gripping it for dear life as another blinding orgasm rips through your body. Gojo fucks into your wet, cum-soaked pussy until he feels his own nut coming and he desperately fucks you to chase his high. “Cumming!” he babbles. “‘M cummin’, I’m cummin’, I’m cummin’!”

And when he fills you up, it’s explosive. It’s deep. It’s intense. It fills every part of you, filling you with warmth and the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. You weakly moan as you feel his cum fill your tummy, no doubt reaching your womb. He stills for a moment, plugging his cum inside you, before slowly and sloppily rocking his hips into you to fuck his cum deep into your pussy.

When he is finally sure that you’re good and bred, he puts his hands on his narrow hips and whistles tiredly. “Shit,” he sighs. “I really needed that.” You moan in agreement. He then pulls out of you slowly, causing you to whimper quietly as your aching pussy is no longer filled.

He stares at it between your thighs, humming appetizingly. “Mmm, now that’s a sight: a pretty, fucked pussy drippin’ with my cum. Don’t mind if I do.”

Then his mouth is between your thighs again, lapping gently at his and your cum mingled together all over your pussy and inner thighs. You arch your back for him, moaning softly at his soft, careful tongue strokes.

When he finishes, you turn to him, finding his semi-hard cock dripping with your mingled fluids. “You still got some left here, Daddy,” you coo before moving to lap up the cum you left behind on his cock. He allows it, his hand in your hair while he sighs about how good you are.

Once you are cleaned up and all is said and done, the two of you finally lay side by side in your bed, together again at last. You curl into his chest, leaning your head against his heart and wrapping your arms around him. He welcomes it, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead “Welcome home, baby,” you whisper as you look up at him. “Now you gonna tell me how you got out?”

He looks down at you, almost as if he forgot he was supposed to answer a bunch of your very important questions. “Oh, Itadori did that,” he explains like he’s telling you the weather. “He’s a smart kid, y’know. Say, you up for some sushi? I’m cravin’ some fish right now.”

All you can do is laugh and kiss your man before getting the takeout menu that you keep in the nightstand next to the bed. All the important questions can wait.

For now, all you want and need is him.

THE END.

#smutty smut #my works #black fanfic writer #my fic shit #black coded reader #black writers #satoru gojo x black!reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #feral gojo #happy birthday gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut

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fanaticsnail · 4 months

Note

Mitski - My love mine all mine

Comfort fic with Mihawk?

Pretty plz oh my sister of mine

(Add smut if you must-but you’re really pulling my arm)

Comfort fic, you say? You get some angst too, sis.

Masterlist here.

Word Count: 1,178

Warnings: angst, longing, fluff, sleeping, embracing (no smut)

Song Suggestion: Mitsuki - My Love Mine all Mine.

Nothing in the world belongs to me // But my love mine, all mine // Nothing in the world is mine for free // But my love mine, all mine, all mine

The halls in the great castle had naught a sound resounding in the chasms. The polished cobblestone lay bare and cold, the warm light of the crystalline chandelier reflecting its small flames atop the surfaces. The darkness from nightfall glistened starlight through the stained glass windows; the moon cascading it’s crescent shape on one of the many portraits that hung high and out of sight within the room.

He had been gone for two weeks, his presence not gracing the ornate floorboards with his silhouette for nine days longer than he promised. He thought the contract would be over swiftly, the great blade Yoru able to cut through anything with one fell, booming swipe. His cloak was dishevelled, his cross was laying slightly askew atop his bare chest. The large, fluffed, white feather in his broad hat was slightly singed around the edges, tanning under the scorch marks to tint it a smoked yellow. It did not go at all according to his plan: get in, get it done, get it over with, and get back to you.

The individual he was stalking had managed to raise an army, something the world government did not anticipate him having such sway nor ability to execute. He was to be brought in alive for questioning, his bounty nullified should he perish below a blade. Dracule Mihawk was tasked with not only capturing this person alive, but also ridding the amassment of pirates that had so readily come to his defence. It took him nine days of combat; never resting, always pushing to get to his target. He was exhausted, his energy resources depleted completely.

As he stalked slowly along the grounds, his staff would turn and halt their movements and chores; offering a swift stoop at acknowledgement of his presence. Mihawk’s shoulders were slumped, hunching down from his great posture as he reached your shared bedroom. Turning the circular handle, he lifted the small latch from its brace against the door and slowly allowed the hall light to break through the darkness.

Atop his large four-poster bed lay his love, his hidden treasure known only to his staff and a handful of others he trusted enough with his secret. His eyes softened, leaning his towering form against the post of the doorframe slightly to take you in. Allowing a soft smile to rise to the corner of his lips, he raked his amber-eyes over you to take in your sleeping form.

You lay in a white silken bed-robe, the fabric of the many layers pooling at your wrists in their lengthy decline. Laying on your side, facing the door, your hair lay gracefully cascading atop his pillowcase. Your right leg bent at the knee, the duvet laying beneath it as to mimic your embrace with your lover; as you would most commonly be cradled against the chest of the warlord as you both slept soundly. Your hand was clutching a single red rose, laying wilting and dried over the mattress alongside his promise to return to you before the cut, thorny rose should ever require water. A single petal fell to the floor as you took a deep breath to indicate your slumber had become interrupted.

Mihawk quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind him, the softest click of the latch could be heard as he attempted to silence his decent. He took his hat off, placing it on the desk beside his armchair, alongside removing Yoru and laying the great blade on it’s wooden, decorative resting hilt. He sighed in relief as the weight had been removed from his shoulders, rotating them to remind his muscles how to behave without harnessing such a weapon. Slowly, he drew his arms out of his cloak, wincing as his biceps contracted beneath the material.

He had overexerted himself, went too hard for too long; something you would chastise him for, he’s sure of it. Placing the cloak on the back of his armchair, he removed his boots and socks from his feet and slotted them beneath the bed. His fingers halted their retract as you let a slow, sleepy moan fall from your lips. Your brows began to furrow as your lucidity continued to propel you within haunted dreams of your love’s demise. Mihawk hastily unclasped the buckle on his belt, pulling in one swift movement to rid it from its place within his pants and tucked the object in one of his boots.

Kneeling his right knee on the bed, he began a stumbled and exhausted crawl to fall his body next to your own. He laced his left arm beneath your right and flattened his forehead against your chest, listening to the slow, rhythmic thump of your heartbeat. The remainder of petals fell to rest atop his curled, darkened locks as he closed his honey-coloured eyes tightly shut. He lifted his right arm to rest over your manubrium, focussing more on his concentration listening to the rhythm of your heartbeat and the rise and fall of your breathing.

In your subconsciousness, you drew down your right hand and laced it within Mihawk’s hair; body completing this soft and gentle embrace from muscle memory alone. The furrow in your brows completely fell from your face and softened in your slumber once more. Mihawk smiled into your embrace, relishing being in the arms of his hidden love once again – albeit nine days late.

He hoped you did not hold such tardiness against him, tracing low circles atop the small of your back before drawing his hand down to clutch the back of your right thigh to hook your knee over the bottom of his ribcage. Sighing into the embrace, he felt your body completely relax into him with a sigh of his own to follow in reaction. The two of you feeling the weight of the absence fleeing from your bodies in this gentle embrace, falling from you in waves of bittersweet reunification.

The gentle light of the crescent moon continued to follow into the room, its light illuminating your embrace through the small partition within the heavy charcoal curtains. Mihawk reopened his yellow eyes, tilting his head up and removing his hand from your chest in favour of brushing a single strand away from your face. Your lips were parted, eyelashes forming a small shadow atop the apples of your cheeks under the light of the moon. Mihawk felt his heart swell knowing you were safe in his castle, slumbering soundly while remaining hidden away from the world government.

Finally having something that was truly his own, not an ability to be used for exploit, nor his vast array of wealth in riches and land. You were his, something that was only for him.

“Sleep now, my love,” he sighed, pressing a lingering kiss against your throat with his eyelashes flickering against the bare skin as he leant in to your embrace. He withdrew his soft touch and whispered against your flesh: “May you forgive me when you wake. I love you, may you continue to be mine. Only mine.”

#one piece #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #x reader #mihawk #Mihawk x you #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #fic request #moots #opla mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader

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whore-era · 1 year

Text

affinity - part 1

ellie williams x fem!reader

themes: angst, pining, best friends, unrequited love

summary: after being in love with your best friend for years, one drunken night changes everything.

a/n: this was torture to write. apologies in advanced.

word count: 3,689

1/3

“god, i’d give up my left leg to eat right now. i’m starving.” you groan out, the rumbling in your stomach erupting on cue.

ellie lets out a laugh, “you finished your sandwich already?” she packs her backpack with perishable canned foods, flinging it over her shoulder.

“hey, i didn’t have breakfast before i left this morning,” you defend, your eyes scanning the empty shelves of the abandoned food mart. not much, as usual. “the sandwich was tempting me.”

your best friend shakes her head, “what do i always tell you? ya gotta eat, you stubborn girl. we’re out here— running and fighting for our lives—6 to 8 hours everyday.”

“sorry, mother, won’t do it again,” you stick your tongue out to her, earning a glare from the green-eyed girl.

“c’mon, let’s get outta here and call it a day.” she says opening the front door, waiting for you. you nod and tuck the gun in the waistband of your jeans, walking towards the entrance. your untied shoelaces cause you to trip over your own feet, and you prepare yourself to face-pan on the floor, looking like a complete fool. but the moment never comes, as you feel strong arms catch you mid-fall.

you look up, making eye contact with those jade-green orbs you fell in love with all those years ago. she looks back at you, searching your face for any sign of injury. clearing your throat, you get back on your feet, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“sorry. you know me, such a clutz,” you sputter out nervously, laughing to ease the tension as you both walk toward the two horses. “nah, no worries. but i do think you purposely leave your shoes untied just so i can catch you.”

“you wish, williams.” you retort, a false sense of confidence in your tone. hoisting yourself up on your horse, sunshine, you tug on the leads to begin the journey back to town.

ellie appears next to you, shimmer strolling alongside sunshine, looking breathtaking in the setting sun of wyoming. your heart flutters, and for a brief second, you think you’re having a heart attack. you would think after being best friends with ellie williams for five years that you would get used to seeing her face everyday, but that wasn’t the case for you at all.

it began slow, when you noticed the way your heart would pick up when she smiled at you or when you found yourself thinking of dumb puns just so you could hear her laugh. but you knew it was over for you when you found it hard to breathe after she accidentally kissed you after having one too many beers that she sacked from joel when you were both 15. it led you right to this moment, with a 5-year long crush and unrequited feelings for your oblivious best friend.

i mean, who could blame you? ellie williams was to die for. she was strong, brave, outgoing, charming, witty, protective, intelligent, and — well, it’d take you forever to list off everything amazing about her. there was about a handful of girls in town that feel the same way you do about ellie, and you were just lucky to bear witness to the numerous flings that ellie had with them, sarcasm included. fortunately for you, they never usually ended up in anything serious, as ellie was never really interested in being anything more than ‘special friends’, if you could catch her drift.

as for you, you never really attempted to look for anything with anyone else. anyone who showed any interest in you, which was not many people, faced rejection. it was sad enough to admit, but you were okay just being ellie’s best friend, even if it meant seeing her with other girls.

“i’m serious,” ellie chuckles, “you’re always eating shit and falling over, dude.” she shakes her head, “how did maria even approve you for patrol?”

“hey! i’ll have you know that she’s very impressed with my artillery skills,” you retort, earning an eye roll from your best friend.

“whatever, man, whatever helps you sleep at night,” she laughs, “speaking of maria, heard she’s having that party tonight?”

you hum in agreeance, admiring the setting sun glowing lavender and magenta on the white snow. “you gonna go?”

“hmm, maybe. dina and i were thinking about making an appearance— to gossip and drink, that typ’a stuff,” you respond, looking over at the auburn-haired girl. ellie was silent for a moment, seeming deep in thought.

“i think i’m gonna go with cat.”

your heart fell to your stomach. cat was ellie’s latest fling. they’ve been talking and messing around for almost a month, and by now, ellie would’ve quit whatever situation she had going on with her, but she didn’t.

“oh. really?”

“yeah. i like being around her, she’s cool and funny and gorgeous and she listens to cool music and— and i think you’d really like her, you both would get along.” ellie dotes, eyes all sparkly. yeah, i’d highly doubt we’d get along, but i’d certainly try for you though, els. you blink back tears, wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeve, pretending to brush dirt off your face.

this was the only thing you despised about being her best friend. she confided in you for everything, especially about the girls she was with. your heart cracked a bit everytime, which always ended up with you laying in bed at four in the morning, crying because of the girl you loved, but couldn’t have.

you stayed silent, too silent. your brain worked quickly to think of something to say before ellie suspected anything out of the ordinary.

“i bet.” you murmured, relieved by the sight of the gates appearing in the far distance. you wanted nothing more than to run back home and scream into your pillow. god, this whole one-sided crush thing was pathetic.

“i just— she’s different, you know? we talk for hours and hours and it’s never weird or anything, dude.” ellie rambles, and for once in your life, you wanted her to shut up, but you couldn’t bear to say that to her. “i think i’m gonna ask her to be my girlfriend — tonight, at the party.”

air caught up in your trachea, absolutely stunned by her statement.

“what happened to her ‘just being a fling?’” you cleared your throat, trying to hide the tears building up. you wanted nothing more than for a hole to open up in the ground so it can swallow you up in a black darkness — along with sunshine, so you had a companion.

“man, fuck that,” she scoffs, “cat is just..something else.”

you feel tears about to spill from your eyes, “well, congratulations, els. i am so happy for you.”

the worst thing about this whole thing was you were truly happy for her — well you tried your hardest to be. being a good friend meant supporting and being happy for the people you love, no matter what your feelings were.

you knew you were about to burst into tears, so you made a break for it, clicking your tongue and signaling sunshine to sprint towards the gates. you could hear ellie yelling behind you, but you didn’t care, you just wanted to be alone.

the guards opened the gates, allowing you in as sunshine began to slow down to a steady gallop, ellie following shortly behind. with a swiftness, you got off of sunshine and handed her lead to one of the stable boys, muttering a quick ‘thank you’ before quickly stalking off towards your home. your thoughts of wanting to be buried under the thick covers to cry for hours were interrupted as a firm hand grabbed your arm.

“hey!” ellie snapped, looking annoyed as you turned around, “what the fuck was that? you ditched me back there.”

you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to conjure up a dumb excuse. “sorry, i- uh- really needed to use the bathroom,” your hand rubbed your stomach, “don’t think the sandwich is sitting well.”

ellie narrows her eyes, and for a second you think she doesn’t believe you, but that disappears once her nose scrunches up and she laughs, “ewww,” she cringes, “go on then.”

you give a weak smile and turn around to continue your trek. maybe you could’ve handled that better. you did leave her alone, even if it was for second, but ellie would’ve never done that to you. letting out a groan, you rub your forehead, “ugh, i’m so stupid.” you whisper to yourself.

feeling guilty, you stop and turn to apologize to ellie for running off, but your heart breaks into two at what you see — ellie pressing cat up against the stables, her lips busy against hers, and you wished you never turned around at all.

“dinaaaaaaaaaaa, i need another one pleaseee,” you drag out your words, slamming the glass against the table. the brunette sighed, taking your glass away from you.

“i don’t think you should be having another one.” dina suggests, and while the sober version of you would’ve agreed, the intoxicated version of you protested.

“no! i need it, deens,” you whine out, “please. m’going through heartbreak right now.” you pout, and point to your boob, totally missing the place where your heart should be. dina rolls her eyes, eventually giving in and pouring you your fourth glass of whiskey.

your eyes light up, taking the glass and lifting it up, “cheeeeeers!!” you hurrah, before downing the glass in one gulp and slamming it down again.

dina sighs, glancing at jesse, who was almost..startled? he was mostly shocked at how many glasses of whiskey you were able to run through your system in a span of an hour and a half.

two hours before you arrived to maria’s party, after getting ready, you made a plan. a terrible, horrible plan, but it was a plan that you thought would be best — for everybody.

after spending most of the afternoon after patrol feeling sorry for yourself and crying for three hours, you wiped your tears and decided enough was enough, you had to get over these stupid feelings you had for ellie. you didn’t want to sabotage her new relationship with cat, so you thought it’d be a good idea to distance yourself from her instead.

it was unbearable for you to be around her already, without having the temptation to kiss her everytime you looked at her.

but seeing her with a girlfriend? you’d rather throw yourselves to a horde of runners for them to snack on like a delicious jumbo pack of beef jerky.

after creating your little plan, you dressed in your best and did your hair, and decided to add a little cherry on top of your plan by forgetting any and all feelings about ellie williams by getting absolutely shit-faced with hard liquor — your new bff.

two hours later, here you were, begging dina for a fifth glass. “pleeeeeeaaasseee, i’ll- i’ll- i’ll do your laundry for a month!” you bargained.

“as tempting as that sounds, no! you’re gonna puke your guts out in the morning— you’ll be thanking me for not giving you another drink,” she says, twisting the cap on the glass bottle, earning a pout from you.

“dina, i’ll do anything! i just- i just- wanna forget all about ellie,” you sigh, looking across the bar at cat, who’s sitting alone, possibly waiting for ellie to arrive. tears prick the corner of your eyes, and you look away, putting your face in your hands, “this hurts so bad.”

not even liquor can make you forget about ellie williams and how her name was permanently etched onto your heart for infinity.

dina scootches her chair next to you, pulling you into a side hug, and you weep into her shirt. she glances at jesse, and all they could feel for you was sympathy, knowing well how strongly you felt about ellie. it was clear to everyone, but ellie, how much you loved her. everyone advised you to tell just ‘tell her how you felt’ and you never listened to them, always saying it’d make your friendship too complicated.

but a part of you right now felt like you should’ve listened, feeling dejected by the thought of missing the only opportunity you had to be with her.

“i’m gonna go see if i can get maria to make her something to eat,” dina says standing up to step away towards the bar, “make sure she doesn’t have any more drinks.”

jesse’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s now left to babysit you.

dina leans on the barside tables, “maria!”

the older lady turns around as she pours a drink and sets it on the table for one of the customers to take, “hey, dina,” she greets, throwing a towel over her shoulder, “what can i get ‘ya?”

“just a water and a little something to eat,” dina orders.

“sure thing. we could whip up a quick sandwich or we also have peanuts or chips in the back, take your pick.”

the brunette thinks for a second, “uhh, just give me whatever’s convenient. it’s not for me anyways, it’s for her,” dina nods towards you, her eyes widening as she sees you chugging the brown liquor from the glass bottle, with jesse attempting to pry the bottle from your hands. maria laughs and shakes her head.

“what’s her deal tonight?”

“uh, heartbreak,” dina mutters, rubbing the back of her neck, “ellie told her she was gonna ask cat to be her girlfriend tonight when they were out during patrol.”

the older woman sighs, looking down and grabbing the towel from her shoulder to wipe the sticky table. “they both have to fess up already, or else they’re both gonna lose each other.”

dina’s brows furrow, “what do you mean?”

“yeah, sure, everyone knows she loves ellie. anyone can see it,” maria pauses, “but if you focus hard enough on those two, you can see that ellie is just as head over heels for her, if not more. hell, i don’t even think she’s realized it herself.” maria bends down and opens a small fridge, taking out a wrapped sandwich.

“you think so?”

“i know so.” maria puts a cup of ice water on the table alongside the wrapped sandwich, before taking the next customers order.

with the glass of water and sandwich in hand, dina returns back to the table, greeted by the sight of you and jesse fighting over the liquor bottle.

“i will put my fist up your butt if you don’t give me that back!” you shout as jesse’s grip doesn’t budge from the shiny bottle.

“you’ve had enough, you little monster!” jesse yells as he gives another hard yank to the bottle, breaking it from your grip. dina lets out a laugh, before she sits down next to you, pulling you down with her so you can take a seat, but you trip over and nearly miss the chair entirely.

“whoops,” you giggle, completely plastered.

steadying yourself and sitting on the hardwood chair, dina holds the glass of water up towards your lips, “drink up.”

you take a sip of water, and cower at the bland taste, “heeeyy, this isn’t whiskeeee,” you whine.

“you need it, so you don’t wake up all sick and stuff,” dina says, attempting to persuade you to drink more water and sway you away from any ideas of sipping on alcohol again.

“no, i don- i don’t need that,” you garble, “what i do need is- is- is ellie.”

at the mention of ellie’s name again, you break out into tears. this was the night that jesse and dina realized you were an extremely, emotional drunk.

“okay, that’s it,” jesse says standing up, “we’re taking you home.”

you gasp, “no! i promise no more drinks!” you attempt to hold onto the table, but to no avail, jesse easily gets you on your feet and holds you steady on your left side.

“c’mon, dina, take her other side.” dina goes to your right and puts her arm around your waist, making sure you have no chances of slipping out of her grip.

“pleeeeaaassseee, don’ let them take me away!!” you shout to the bystanders as jesse and dina drag you away from the event and towards the doors of the bar, gaining some stares and laughs from the other partygoers.

as the cold, winter night air hits you in the face, the three of you are greeted by the person you wanted so badly to forget about tonight.

“uh, hey, guys,” the green-eyed girl greets, “leaving already?”

jesse and dina look at each other nervously, with you still in their hold. “yup, someone partied too hard.” jesse says, laughing a little bit too awkwardly.

ellie takes you in, glancing at your inebriated state; eyes all hazy and glossed over, letting out little giggles here and there, and can barely stand on their own two feet.

“so, if you don’t mind, we’ll be taking her home,” dina clears her throat, “jesse get her keys.” jesse quickly lets go of you, sending you stumbling over to the side, bringing dina along with you.

ellie rushes over to your side and snakes her arm around your waist, holding you close to her body. butterflies erupted in your stomach once again. even in your extremely drunken condition, your body knew how to respond when ellie was around.

jesse pats your pockets, and doesn’t feel anything, “nothing, she doesn’t have her keys.”

“hehe, i think i forgot them. dunno where they are,” you giggle, feeling all warm and drowsy all of a sudden, and your head leans over to the side, coincidentally on ellie’s shoulder.

“shit. how the fuck do we get her home and in bed then?” dina sighs out.

“i’ll take her back to mine and let her sleep over.” ellie decides without a second thought, taking your arm and putting it over her shoulder.

dina’s hesitant, “you sure? you just got here.”

“of course. don’t want her getting hurt or ending up god knows where,” ellie lets out a laugh, “just do me a favor and tell cat i’ll make it up to her tomorrow.”

the pair both nod and head back in the bar, whereas you were too busy looking at ellie’s face and how all her features looked perfect in the soft glow of the lights shining through the windows from the bar.

“you have greeeen eyes,” you comment, your eyes in total awe as ellie guides you back to her shed.

“yup, i do,” ellie laughs, amused by your drunk comments.

“my best friend has greeeen eyes,” you slurred out, “you kin’a look like her.”

“yeah?”

“mmmhhhmmm, her- her name is ellie and she’s the best,” you smile at the thought of ellie, completely unbeknownst that she was the one holding onto you, “i-i love her.”

“i’m sure ellie loves you too,” ellie assures. you shake your head.

“nuh uh, she doesn’t,” you counter, “ellie loves me. i love love ellie.”

the girl laughs, “what? love love? what does that mean?”

“i’m in looooove with ellie, dumb dumb.”

ellie stops in her tracks, causing you to retract and fall back, sending her on top of you. ellie was astounded, barely registering the fact that you’re both on the snow.

“what?” maybe ellie heard incorrectly. you were drunk and babbling nonsense, but she still had to make sure.

“i,” you point to yourself, “am in love with ellie williams.” you manage to let out clearly, wincing from the melted snow seeping into your clothes. ellie gets up on her feet and pulls you up, brushing the snow off your clothes and hair.

“you’re just- you’re just drunk.” ellie tries to find some explanation to all of this, and that was the most rational one she could think of. she secures her arm onto you again, continuing the short walk to her place.

“nope, nope, nope,” you shake your head, “i have been in loveee with ellie for— one, two, three, four, five— five years!” you count your fingers. “but, she doesn’t love me back.”

you begin to cry again, nestling your face into her chest. still unaware you were with ellie, the very person you were crying over, “she told me she was gonna- she was gonna-” you pause to wipe your tears, “she was gonna ask cat to be her girlfriend.”

ellie’s heart tore at the sight of one of the most important people in her life crying, and it was all because of her. she didn’t know what to think, she wanted to believe that you were saying all this stuff because you were drunk, but a part of her doesn’t believe it — a drunk man’s words is a sober man’s thoughts.

rumaging in her pockets, she took her key out as you both neared her shed. her arm still secured around your waist, ellie unlocked her door and hauled you over her bed, pulling the blankets back, and sitting you down on the sheets.

ellie’s mind was running a mile a minute, thinking about your confession minutes prior, but she was still intent on taking care of you. she bent down to untie your shoes and tie your hair out of your face, ensuring you’d be more comfortable sleeping this way.

pouring some extra water she had in a cup, she brings it towards your lips, “open.” you obey her command and part your lips, taking small sips of water, your eyes having difficulty staying open as you began to feel sleepy.

ellie placed the cup on the nightstand and she gently laid you back in her bed, pulling a blanket over you. before she knew it, you were out like a light, gentle snores coming from your mouth.

ellie let out a heavy sigh and sat down on her couch, unable to shake the events that took place tonight — any ides of making cat her girlfriend fading further and further away from her mind.

affinity - part 2 here

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie x reader angst #ellie x fem!reader

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halfagone · 3 months

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Before The Wayne Came A Kane

Martha Wayne née Kane came from a very prestigious family even before she married her husband, the illustrious M.D. Thomas Wayne. Sadly, her family never supported her union with Thomas, so she largely cut them out of her life once she married and that certainly had not changed when she had a son.

Her strained relationship with the rest of her family is particularly apparent when it's revealed, at the release of her and Thomas' respective wills after their unexpected, tragic deaths, that she would not give her brothers or sisters-in-law custody of Bruce. They may be the last of his living relatives, but even in death she would never allow them to touch her baby boy. Hence, his care is left to the head butler, one Alfred Pennyworth.

She did have two sister, though. Two baby sisters, one who had been disowned and disavowed from the family long before her, named Alicia. And one who was far too young to take in her son, even if Martha had allowed it. Her name is Madeline Kane. As the only other acknowledged daughter left from Roderick and Elizabeth Kane, she is left to carry the burden of her older sister's legacy. And what a burden it was, to be constantly compared to a dead woman her family seemed to adore and loathe in strides.

It's really no wonder that the moment she gets the chance, she leaves her family in Gotham to attend a university in Wisconsin. There, she meets Jack Fenton. He can be a little clumsy sometimes, but he has an eye for engineering and doesn't like her for her family's name or wealth. He calls her "Maddie" when she says so, and he doesn't ask about the change.

She falls in love and the two are wedded in the blink of an eye, Maddie pregnant with their first child only a few years after graduation. In her family's eyes, it just further proves that any Kane daughter is cursed and doomed to failure. (Beth understands this. Bette learns this. Kate knows this.)

And all too similarly to her elder sister, when her son is just fourteen years old, she is killed: yet another unexpected, tragic death. Her husband and her daughter perish along with her. Just like her older sister, the only one left is her baby boy.

Only, Maddie wasn't nearly as forthcoming with her will, and there is no guardian marked for custody in his papers. The Kanes, who proclaim they are his rightful family, are more than happy to take advantage of this.

Bruce isn't close to his family, beyond perhaps Kate. But if there is one thing that he knows it's that his parents didn't give his estranged relatives custody of him for a reason. Alfred is stingy with the details, but he can confirm that much.

Bruce is left to fight an uphill battle, helping a mourning boy heal from his loss and fighting his extended family's attempts for custody at every turn.

More ramblings under the cut:

See this guy right here?

This is Jacob Kane, Kate's father, Martha's brother, and Bruce's uncle. He's got the distinct red hair and do you know who else has red hair? Maddie. Jacob is a respected military officer and Maddie, in general, has always given me strong former U.S. agent vibes. But regardless, it makes sense that Maddie would know things or learned how to fight at an early age if her older brother left for military service.

Also, I just love showing Bruce's extended family and how twisted, complicated his family was long before he adopted so many children. And this also helps explain why Maddie is so cagey with her background. She only has Alicia left really, all the rest she keeps out and away for good reason.

But she can't protect Danny from them forever.

Plus, there's this really cool possibility for Danny to stay with the Kanes for a while and explore that avenue before he's ultimately brought into the Wayne fold. Danny gets to see what the upper crust Gotham elites look like with his own two eyes, beyond Sam's stories.

#dpxdc #dpxdc prompt #dpxdc au #long post #i might actually write this one #one of these days #there are so many possibilities #but anyone is free to run with it!#>:3

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rainbowmothed · 3 months

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── I'M NOT A VIOLENT ANGEL. I DON'T KNOW WHY I BITE.

· ★ · basically just me rewriting vaggie's fall + chaggie first meeting. trigger warning for blood, gore, murder, classic extermination stuff!

Vaggie felt the pressure settle on her shoulders as she spread her wings, lines of black smearing across the crimson sky of the underworld in a flurry of feathers as she and her kin descended from the beaming light illuminating the once darkened sky, atmosphere thick with the already fresh scent of bitter blood.

Guilt was all Vagatha could manage to muster in her soul, her very being. She never liked to be an exterminator. She didn't know why– most of her kin adored slaughtering the “demon scum” of the underworld. And Vaggie knew she was no different than them, no less shameful in comparison despite feeling butterflies churn in her stomach before she drew her angelic spear. Six years she had spent as one of Adam's top girls, always cast to be on the front lines, praised by her peers for being one of the most merciless, blood-thirsty ones out there.

And oh, how she despised it with every single fiber of her being.

Vaggie cringed as she remembered the proud slaps on the back and reassuring pats shoulders after every extermination as they rose back to the skies above afterwards, the shouts of “good jobs” and “that was even better than last year” filling the air, choking her, suffocating her as the words shoved their way down her throat until soft tears pricked her eyes and her skin flustered with shameful heat.

God, she hated her job. And it was strange. She was created for this. Created in the Heavens for the sole purpose of reigning massacre upon people who were seen as nothing more than the dirt under their heels, when, in reality, Vaggie knew they were far more than that. They were once human souls, who once had lives, and who once had families, who maybe still did have families. She knew she'd killed at least one husband who had a wife and kids at home, waiting, and one wife or one child. Likely far more than that.

So many denizens had crumbled to their knees at her hands as she lodged the blade of the spear into their flesh. The flesh she was meant to see as worthless, puny, disgusting, sinful. Wretched. But the flesh she saw only bore hints of light, shimmering under the surface, waiting to be unveiled, until it was cut short and dulled as their black blood splattered across the alleyway floors and concrete sidewalks, heads slamming down as they met their gruesome fates. Perished.

And this year, Vagatha knew she would do the same thing. Or rather, should do the same thing. She was given a sharp nod to descend as she continued through the air. Her previous guilty thoughts had made her work up a tad bit of a nervous sweat, so she pulled away the mask that concealed her face, swiping away the sweat that stuck to her forehead like bothersome glue. Not bothering to put it back on, Vaggie simply attached it to her waist, feeling it thud against her hip as she flew down into the alleyway, boots finally making contact with the glass-lined gravel below.

Expecting to see some looming, wretched soul, Vaggie was only greeted with a cowering little child, far younger than her, far less defenseless. Where were its parents? It didn't deserve to fall. Not like this. “Go, run.” Vaggie urged, before she could form a second thought about her own actions, pulling her blade far away from the thing's throat and waving it off. Sparing it. The guilt had become unfathomable, and she was no longer even in control of her own body. Pathetic.

However, the sounds of footsteps behind her made Vagatha quickly snap out of her daze, wings perking up with surprise as she drew her blade, expecting some idiotic, bold sinner, only to feel a hand grasp her shoulder. Vaggie’s eyes widened as her lips parted, attempting to let out a flurry of excuses as she saw Lute’s face before her. Grinning, merciless.

Oh God.

Vaggie let out a shrill shriek of pain as she felt the angelic weapon pierce her eye, gouging it out and letting it roll onto the ground below. Vagatha’s stomach churned with nausea as she naturally fell to her knees, letting out another cry as she felt Lute’s boot press against the top of her skull.

“Traitor scum like you have no place in Heaven.”

Vaggie attempted to choke out a plea, a beg for mercy, but was cut short as she felt Lute’s gloved hands wrap around the base of her wings, pulling back with relentless force as they were ripped from her body, another pathetic splatter of neon green, angelic blood splashing across the ground. Vaggie felt like she was going to retch from the pure amount of adrenaline and pain pumping through her skin, her being, her very soul.

Guilt. Harsher than before.

Guilt for betraying Heaven. Guilt for slaughtering the people of the underworld. Guilt for not living up to her superiors’ standards of her. Guilt for every single thing she had ever done wrong, crashing down on her at once.

—

Vaggie shakily stumbled up to her knees as Adam and Lute walked away, snickering under their breaths and beaming with nothing but pride. No guilt themselves; nothing but happiness and unfiltered glee at finding a traitor amongst their ranks and properly punishing her for it.

All for sparing one measly child.

Vaggie tore away the mask that still hung to her belt, exterminator uniform soaked with blood and torn in some places. In a moment of anguish, mixed in a blurred puddle with hints of anger, she ripped it all from her body, leaving herself in the clothes she had underneath. Vaggie tossed it into the dumpster that lay against the wall of the alleyway, her neon green blood splattering down the side of it as she threw it to be picked later.

Still weakly clutching the spear in her hand, she leaned her back against another dumpster, trying not to brush the stumps of her ripped off wings against anything to prevent any further agonizing pain. She already had plenty of that, her eye now an empty socket, vision nowhere to be found beside the one she still had. Thank Lute for that, she mused. Didn't take her vision completely.

Vagatha was silently praying for some random imp to come pick her off. Finish the game her superiors had started, end her pathetic life once and for all. Lay her corpse against the dirt of the ground she once saw as beneath her. Funny, seeing as how the people she once saw as her victims, albeit with a bit of shame, could slaughter her right here and now with absolute ease.

Vaggie didn't even cry. The tears would've hurt her eye too much. She felt them boiling under the surface, yes, but they never trespassed that burning point, never spilling or teetering over the edge just right to drop. Vagatha soon enough heard footsteps approaching. Great, her future murderer had finally come, just as she felt herself drifting in and out of consciousness due to the sheer amount of blood loss.

Instead of the expression of a cruel murderer, she was greeted by the face of a shocked denizen. Gorgeous, with blonde hair, streaked with honey hues. Pale skin, with rosy cheeks, akin to that of a marionette. Beautiful. If this woman was the last thing Vaggie was to see, she would definitely be able to go out happy compared to her earlier predicament. The bitterness flushed out of her soul as she stared up at the demon, waiting for the blade to press against her neck. For her to end her suffering.

But it didn't.

Instead, a bandage was carefully wrapped around her missing eye, the denizens fingers soft and delicate. Perfect compared to her own, scarred with the memories of the lives that had been taken by them. It made her expression soften. It was the little things that made Vaggie swoon like that, and this was definitely one of those little things.

Was she falling for the woman who she thought was going to slaughter her just a moment ago? It was a tad funny, actually. The flusterment only grew as she saw her tuck a piece of blonde hair behind her porcelain-hued ear, diverting her gaze as she cheekily smiled.

This girl would definitely be the death of Vaggie, but in a completely different way than she was originally anticipating.

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staryingx · 6 months

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Piecing together: The current timeline in Reverse 1999

CN SPOILERS up to Chapter 5 and Interlude. Long post.

The new Chapter 5 and Interlude for Reverse 1999 has shed some light on the Storm and its timeline. With all the new info, I've tried to piece it together as accurately as possible. Here's the timeline I have put together:

Let me break down my findings.

First of all, let's look at the IDM Computer with 37's Mother's prediction.

37 mentions "From 1999 to 2007, the emanation has taken place seven times". Here's how I interpret what the years mean in the Phenomenal column. It's like calling the effect of the Storm: for the first row, the 1996 Storm reverses the era 1999 to 1996. So the "1996 Storm".

The IDM only shows 6 Storms, so the 7th is the Storm that reversed to 1929. I wonder why she didn't include the 8th Storm (1929->1913), but that could be because it was the anomaly 2-day emanation that ruined the model prediction.

Here's a table I have made attempting to fill in the blanks of the IDM computer.

Let's analyze it Storm by Storm.

The 1st Storm (1999 -> 1996)

When: 23:59. December 31, 1999

Reverses to: 1996

Many sources for this, from the IDM showing 1996 to Greta, the writer of the letters in the interlude, mentioning it in her letters.

The 2nd Storm (1996 -> 1985) [Original: 2000]

When: 1996-1997.

Logs don't explicitly say when, but from the IDM we know it takes place ~1 year after the first Storm.

Reverses to: 1985.

We know this from Greta.

"Things remained unclear until time was reversed again. This time, we all witnessed that rain in the 80s. That was 1985."

She was safe in the Headquarters, witnessing the Storm reverse.

The 3rd Storm (1987 -> 1976) [Original: 2003]

When: On a 27th evening, 1987.

Greta: "The Storm in 1987 was predicted. "…but the prediction was not accomplished by LAPLACE. The captive from Manus Vindictae names the precise date of that Storm."

In Chapter 3, we learn the Foundation captured a Manus Vindictae member who gave them the date of the next Storm. Greta also mentions a captive from Manus predicted it.

Thus, this is the Storm that took place in the breakaway incident, where Vertin was 12-years old and witnessed the Storm for the first time.

Reverses to: 1976

Greta: "Finally, I made up my mind to write to [37's mother]... ... ... She died. On the same day, the first and only timekeeper who just took office, the 12-year-old child returned alone from the Storm. She told us the time in the outside world at that point." "...The last two digits in the number of the year after that Storm were exactly her name and her number: 77".

This was a bit hard to understand. I concluded the year it reversed to was 1976, as Greta said "the year after the Storm" was 77.

Original Year: 2003

Two years has passed from the 2nd Storm (1985) as this Storm took place in 1987. This fits with the year 2003 in the IDM computer. Also, when Sophia talks to Sonetto at the geometry graveyard:

Sophia: "Four years ago, my father was restored to a geometric body on his way back to the island. So was 37's mother who was also on that ship".

We know (or can at least assume) 77 is 37's mother who perished in this Storm. The current time is 2007, so four years ago is 2003.

The 4th Storm (~1976 -> 1930s) [Original: 2004]

When: 1976~1977/78

Reverses to: Some year in the 1930s

Original year: 2004

37: "In the initial four years, the emanation [Storm] has a pattern. First it brought us back to the 90s, then the 80s, and then the 70s. After that it suddenly leapt to the 30s."

When is the initial 4 years? 1999-2003, and this fits with our current pattern thus far from 90s -> 80s -> 70s. So the 4th Storm takes us to the 30s.

Sophia: "We miscalculated the impact area of the emanation. We thought the ships would be safe in the [...] current."

This confirms the Storm has a limited area it affects, where places hit by the Storm reverses to that particular year. The timeline of R1999 isn't going backwards linearly. This opens a lot of possibilities and eras we could visit.

The 5th Storm (~1930s-> 1912s) [Original: 2006]

When: Sometime in the 1930s

Reverses to: 1912

Original: 2006

37: ".... After that it suddenly leapt to the 30s. In the subsequent 3 years, [the emanation] took place twice."

When are the three years? The Storm that took us to the 30s was 2004. So the subsequent 3 years 37 refers to are: 2005, 2006, 2007.

The IDM jumps from 2004 to 2006. You can (very vaguely) make out "1912" from the year 2006. At least I think it's 1912. So the 5th Storm takes us from the 30s to 1912.

The 6th Storm (~1912s-> 1966s) [Original: 2007]

Here's where it gets interesting, and where I start to theorize things because there isn't much info yet about this Storm.

When: Theorized: 1912~1914

Reverses to: 1966

Original year: 2007

In 2007, there is a 6th Storm. This is likely the Storm before the beginning of R1999, which takes us to 1966 where Vertin meets Regulus.

Here's why I think this Storm fits with the IDM model and happens in 1912~1914, more possibly 1914.

In Chapter 1, Vertin lists down people she has met to Regulus.

Regulus: "Huh? It's Lewis. I know him!" Vertin: "Yes. I took this photo several days ago. He was selling the Hoover Upright Vacuum Cleaners in the West End, and thought photos would help his business, so he gladly took this." Regulus: "Why did you take a photo of him? How's he..."

Vertin's response is to take a deep breath.

This interaction was very interesting. Why is Regulus so surprised Vertin took a picture of Lewis? "How's he..." How's he what? Alive?

Now I'm not very familiar with historical figures named Lewis, so I could be very (and hilariously) wrong, but after researching who could be related to a business involving Hoover Upright Vacuum Cleaners, I speculate Lewis is John Spedan Lewis. His father, John Lewis, founded John Lewis, a British brand of high-end department stores.

In 1914, John Lewis hands Spedan Lewis control of a store named Peter Jones. Where is Peter Jones located? Sloane Square, London, which is in King's Road.

Vertin: "Yes. I took this photo several days ago."

This fits with the London location and timeline we know so far. So a few days before Vertin met Regulus, she was in an area of 1914s where she met Spedan Lewis trying to get his store [Peter Jones] going.

Judging from her reaction, he got reversed by the Storm that took them to 1966. Spedan Lewis died in 1963, which is why Regulus is confused why Vertin has a picture of him taken several days ago, and why a wealthy Founder of high-end luxury stores needs a photo taken to help his business.

I thought this was a nice clue that Vertin was in ~1912s era before the 1966s, though this is all just speculation. Feel free to add your own theories who Lewis could be.

The 7th Storm (~1966s-> 1929s) [Original: 2007]

When: June 3rd, 1966.

Reverses to: February 14th, 1929.

Takes place in Chapter 0, where Vertin and Sonetto meets Regulus.

The 8th Storm (~1929s-> 1913s) [Original: 2007]

When: February 15th, 1929.

Reverses to: 1913

Takes place in Chapter 2, where Vertin meets Schneider, Druvis, and Sotheby. Manus Vindictae escalates the Great Depression to cause an earlier Storm. This era only lasts for two days.

These two Storms are straightforward since we witnessed them in game. I won't go into details about them. We're still in the year 2007 according to 37.

The Current Year in Ch 5: 1914 [2007]

Chapter 4 takes place from August 26th to October 10th 1913. The new Chapter 5 begins in 1914.

Eight storms have taken place thus far. Here's a summary with the timeline for reference:

1st Storm (1999 -> 1996)

2nd Storm (1996 -> 1985) [Original: 2000]

3rd Storm (1987 -> 1976) [Original: 2003]

4th Storm (~1976 -> 1930s) [Original: 2004]

5th Storm (~1930s -> 1912s) [Original: 2006]

6th Storm (~1912s -> 1966s) [Original: 2007]

7th Storm (~1966s -> 1929s) [Original: 2007]

8th Storm (~1929s -> 1913s) [Original: 2007]

The Current Year in Chapter 5: 1914 [2007]

Random thoughts:

I hope this post helped paint a clearer picture of the Storms and the possible timeline! Cause, whew, the reason I made this whole timeline was to make sense of it myself. So much lore was dropped in the new chapter.

A question that remains unanswered:

How do people predict the Storm? How can they tell the time in the outside world?

Moissan: "Since Timekeeper hasn't reported the time of this era to the Foundation, you two, as the Foundation investigators, shouldn't know what year this is."

We know 37's group predict them through patterns and math, but what about the Manus Vindictae and Vertin? Vertin just seems to... innately know through her pocket watch and Storm countdown timer on her bracer, perhaps related to her great sense of arcanum. I'm really curious about that.

Biggest Takeaways:

The Storm isn't going backwards linearly and it has a limited impact area. So that means some places not hit by the Storm remains untouched, while others get reversed to whatever era the Storm brings. The first Storm probably had the widest impact.

This means an era in the 1912, for example, could be "reversed" to 1966 if it was hit by the 1966 Storm. That's what I'm getting from all of this. Anyone in the Storm impact area just... poofs, and arcanists/humans in that time era spontaneously appear with the buildings and such. I really love this idea-story wise we could jump around eras.

Then we have places that are completely immune like the Headquarters, Suitcase, and 37's island. They are the only ones who can consistently keep track of time as they're unaffected like spectators viewing the outside world. For the Foundation, Vertin is their way of tracking time in eras: what era did a Storm reverse a place to.

Again, some of these are just speculations and my theories. If you noticed any information I missed out or a mistake, feel free to let me know whether through tags, reply, or even my asks if you're shy. Or if you would just like to talk theories or about Reverse 1999 I'm more than happy to :>

#reverse 1999 #r1999 #timeline analysis #reverse1999 #cn spoilers

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