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allthenamesithinkofaretaken · 1 year

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Your stories of Death x Reader have fascinated me. I'm curious. Are you still making requests? And if the answer is yes:

Could I ask you for one where the reader or death have horrible nightmares about the other, and how they would be when comforting each other? I leave it to your taste and imagination

You write amazing, keep it up :D

There Was an Attempt:

Nightmares (Headcannons)

(Sorry this took so long!)

Muerte having Nightmares:

- Muerte rarely sleeps, and the only times he’s ever really done so are when he’s holding (Y/n) in his arms after a tiring night out collecting souls or maybe after doing the *ehem* you know… So because of that, he rarely ever gets nightmares.

- Until those rare times that he does.

- He’d toss and turn around in his sleep, vivid visions of (Y/n)’s weakness and what it could be being conjured up in his mind and watching as the cruelty he’d seen in humanity over and over again taking and hurting his estrella. He’d hear her screams so loudly that it would grate at his brain, his ears pushed back as his brows furrowed and mouth curled into a sneer in his sleep, claws gripping at the sheets beneath as his nightmares showed him the worst possible things that could happen should they continue their search and if they fail to keep the secret safe.

- It was the one thing that he’d feared the most. The second one was that he’d be the one to have to deliver the finishing blow.

- It doesn’t take long for (Y/n) to stir in her sleep and hear the panicked huffs and whimpers coming from behind her, and she’d immediately sit up to see what was wrong, pushing Muerte to his back and lightly shaking him to wake him up.

- When he does wake up, sometimes, he’d yell out in anger or push her in a panicked rush from the vivid nightmare, and after he’s slowly come to, he’d wrap her in his arms and mutter apologies for being so rough and that he didn’t mean to do it, as well as muttering sweet nothings into her ear, alternating between Spanish and English as he presses quick pecks on her cheek and forehead in between words. He won’t stop until he’s sure she’s forgiven him, and that often ends up with (Y/n) having to cup his face and smoosh it in between her hands while looking him deeply in the eye and saying: “Muerte, I said it’s fine. You didn’t mean it!”. And other times, he’d just wake up with a jolt, realize that she’s right in front of him, all fine and dandy and immediately wrap her in his arms in a tight hug, as if letting go would mean that he’d lose her like he did in his nightmares.

- Only then will he finally relax and wrap her back up in his arms to rest. If they both aren’t tired or still half asleep by the time that’s done, (Y/n) will keep pestering him about telling her about it and if he does, she’ll listen to every word and comfort him as best as she can, listening to him talk with her head pressed against his chest and her arms wrapped around his torso as she rubs calming circles on his back. Sometimes she’ll have his head against her chest so she has better access to the top of his head where she can give him small pecks on the forehead as she scratches behind his ears.

- If he falls asleep first after talking it all out, (Y/n) will tuck the both of them underneath their blanket, giving Muerte one last kiss goodnight (on the forehead if he’s the one laying on her, or if she’s the one on his chest, she’d tilt her head up slightly to give him a peck on the cheek) before going back to sleep.

- If he was still next to her by morning light, she’ll definitely fix him up a quick drink/ food that he’s craving, or if that wasn’t possible to do in a short amount of time, she’d have it prepared for him by the time he comes back home. She’d definitely copy most of his ways of comforting her, but in her own little way like instead of looking for a gift for him, she’d make it with what she has instead, whether it be a painting, a trinket, or taking care of the things that he has on his person (washing his poncho/ stitching up some of the rips and tears he comes home with, snatching his sickles whenever he wasn’t wearing his leather belt (which would be a rare occurrence) and polishing them, she didn’t want to try and sharpen them though, she barely knew anything about that sort of thing and would only fear that she might accidentally chip or break his beloved weapons).

(Y/n) Having Nightmares:

- Now, if it’s (Y/n) the one having nightmares, that’s the one that occurs the most. There were plenty of things that gave her nightmares whether it were the day of her father’s death, her previous attempts to off herself, or the faces she’d once known in the past haunting her and clawing at her skin and asking her how unfair it was that she’d get to live this long and they were left to rot in the dust, their faces turning from young to old in mere seconds before their skins peel off their bones, crawling out of their graves to drag her to a coffin where she pounded hard against the cover, the banging of the hammer silencing her cries until she ran out of breath and all she could do was accept the sounds of dirt and rocks that hit the coffin. Or sometimes it was Muerte going by his word and finally killing her, telling her things that she would never want to hear him say before she wakes up with a jolt.

- Now, Muerte is a light sleeper, and the moment he could smell the slightest hint of discomfort in the air or feel the way she twisted and turned more than usual, he’d be up in no time, and when he sees the pain and fear etched into her face, he wouldn’t take long to try and wake her up.

- It totally depends on which of those nightmares she was experiencing, but she’d either wake up screaming and crying, kicking and fighting, or just frozen still in her spot for just a few seconds before seeming to realize where she was and calm down.

- Muerte would cup her cheek and kiss the tears away, wiping away the wetness that ran down her cheeks all while muttering words of comfort for her. He was a master when it comes to comfort, already knowing the proper things to say and do the moment she starts to recollect most of the nightmare to him.

- Again, if the both of them aren’t looking to go to sleep just yet after that, he’d definitely agree to do some things to get her mind off it, whether it be going out for a walk (it doesn’t matter if she has her own red cloak, he will make her wear his poncho), going down to the kitchen to make her whatever she wants (tea, hot chocolate, no coffee of course, because he’d want her relaxed and drinking coffee would do the opposite of just that), or simply turning on a light and reading out her favorite book to her, or if she’s too exhausted for something like that, he’d wrap her in his arms and hum/ sing her a song, all while playing with her hair.

- Despite being a busy guy, he’d definitely stay until the morning (even if there would be plenty of souls to collect) to make sure that she was okay when she awoke, giving her a few reassurances and kisses on the face until he was absolutely sure that she was fine before leaving, and when he returns home, he’ll definitely have a gift for her in hand.

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allthenamesithinkofaretaken · 1 year

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Hello! I was wondering if you could do a Death x immortal reader. But reader pulls a prank on death to try to mess with him.

And for my friends request they wanted to see if you could please do a jealous Death x reader

Okay thank you so much 😊

This will probably be the only request I'll be entertaining for now because I've got a few plans for the next few chapters of TWaA. Enjoy!

Also I hope you don't mind but the Jealous Muerte part is also an immortal reader. A lot more use of '(Y/n)' than normal, too.

‘For Shits and Giggles’

There was nothing but the constant sound of the ticking clock that echoed in the pub, and she was growing bored with every passing minute that she stood in silence. However, she couldn’t blame the emptiness of the pub on anyone but herself— She was closed for a shit ton of days, and it was most likely that people thought that she was still closed up to today. It didn’t matter, though, because the only customer that she currently had was sitting in front of her sipping his usual drink, slightly hunched towards the counter as he had his arms resting against it's surface.

“How long do you usually stay open if it’s a quiet day like this?” Muerte asked, turning to look around, eyeing the empty seats and tables before turning back to her, a huff escaping her as she lets her head fall to the counter with a thud, a groan pushing past her lips.

“I’m boreddd!” She groaned, throwing her head back and running both of her hands down her face, barely getting a glimpse of Muerte snickering as he rolled his eyes. “I wanna do something.”

“Then do something,” Muerte shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. “You have all the time in the world.”

“No I don’t.” She scoffed. Had he forgotten all about the job they hired Team Friendship to do? “But anyways, I want to do something, but I don’t know what I want to do.” She whined, turning and sliding down the edge of the counter and to the floor, away from Muerte’s line of sight as he let out an exasperated sigh.

“You know you could close up early and do what you want, right?” He arched a brow, pausing midway from lifting the tankard to his lips as her head popped out of the edge of the counter, glaring at him.

“There might be a customer that would come in!”

“You’ve been sitting here for the past 4 hours— no one’s going to come in.” Muerte huffed.

She could only reply with a scoff, but after a minute or two of silence, she actually tried and mulled it over, an exhausted groan pushing at her lips as she takes the keys from her pockets.

“Fine,” she gives in, heading to the back door. “I’ll close up early. I’ll be at the back, I need to make sure everything looks neat and none of the rats eat the stored food.”

Muerte simply replied with a grunt, continuing to sip on his drink, eventually getting lost in thought as (Y/n) blew out a candle beside the doorway before shutting it tight. He hears her footsteps slowly disappear, and it didn’t take long for him to finish his drink and bask in the silence of the pub.

If he was being honest, he was a bit glad that they had a moment of silence after all the busyness the past few days, going back and forth with checking the 3 they had hired as well as going back to doing his job, while also keeping a close eye on (Y/n) in case another one of that bounty hunter’s goons decide to get revenge for their boss and teammate.

He couldn’t help but sigh, running a hand down his face while the other took the glass that (Y/n) had left for him in case he ever needed to refill. Which was nice of her to do.

The sound of keys jangling behind him made his ears twitch, and he heard the door unlock.

Weird. Wasn’t that open?

He paid it no mind as he took another sip of his newly poured drink, the front door of the pub creaking open before the familiar sound of (Y/n)’s footsteps were heard skidding to a stop.

“Muerte?” His brows furrowed at the sound of confusion that was in her voice, turning around to look at her as she stood in front of the doorway, wearing very much different clothes than she was wearing just minutes ago, brows furrowed in both shock and confusion. “What the hell are you doing inside of the pub?”

“What?” He huffed, and when she walked towards him, a look of annoyance crossed her face, her eyes shifting from his hand to the bottle on his side.

“Have you been raiding the cellar this entire time?!” He almost flinched at her raised voice, eyes wide as she looked at him with eyes ablaze with anger.

“I— no, wait— I don’t—” He was left a stuttering mess as he immediately lets go of the tankard, racing both hands as if in surrender as he looked at her with the most confused look he could muster. “You were here before me!”

“If you wanted a drink you could’ve just told me, you know!” She yelled, running a hand down her face in frustration. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Never!” He yelled back in frustration. He was confused, he was angry that she would ever think that he would try and steal from her like this, and a little bit hurt at the implication too. “I don’t understand what’s going on! You said you were going out the back!” He turned and motioned a hand over to the back door, only to freeze at the sight of (Y/n) standing there with a confused look on her face, brows furrowed and head slightly tilted in suspicion and most importantly wearing the same clothes that she was wearing from before.

“Uh, you okay there bud?” She asks, and when he turns back around where the other (Y/n) stood, she was gone, the door shut and there was no sign of anybody ever being there in the first place.

He turns back to (Y/n), eyes blown wide. “You were right there!”

“Maybe you should stop drinking for a while,” (Y/n) said as she grabs the glass from the counter, looking for his tankard when she notices it on the floor, a sigh pushing past her lips. “Really? Are you actually drunk?”

“I can’t get drunk,” He grumbled.

“Uh huh, sure.” She mumbled under her breath, uncertainty clear on her tone as she sighed. “Well, I’ll be taking this back down to storage and to get some cleaning supplies for your mess.” She turned, about to head to the back room before Muerte stops her, taking the glass and tankard from her hands.

“I’ll help you,” he muttered, and she gave him a small smile, patting him on the shoulder as they headed to the back and down the cellar. Maybe he had just been tired, maybe he’d been thinking too hard on that riddle for too long.

Walking down with her with nothing but silence and the sounds of their footsteps filling the stairway, it didn’t take long for them to reach the familiar cramped space, a grumble leaving his lips that were along the lines of ‘cellars aren’t supposed to be this small’.

“It's not going to get bigger the more you complain about it,” she snickered, lighting up a match to light the candle at the entryway. He looked away for a second, and (Y/n) cursed as the lights went dim and he swore he could get a whiff of a familiar scent of someone’s magic in the air. When he turns his attention back to where (Y/n) was, she was gone, and there were running footsteps behind him.

“God damn it, Muerte,” (Y/n) cursed, he turned around and saw the other version of her, face scrunched up angrily and hands balled into fists. “You can’t just—”

He laughs, taking her wrist in his hand and closely examining her skin, then tilted her chin upward to scan her neck.

“Real funny,” He grinned, though there was no amusement in it. Instead, she could feel the anger emanating off of him in waves. “I should have known, Vida.”

Vida scoffed, crossing her arms and pouting. “The prank’s over, (Y/n), he found out.”

(Y/n) immediately pops up from where she was before, as if some sort of invisibility spell was casted away. “And here I thought we could stretch this out.”

“Ah, so you’re the mastermind.” Muerte turns to her with a wicked grin, eyes squinted in a glare.

“Uh,” she could feel the sweat running down the side of her head, eyes glancing towards Vida for help. “Well, actually, Vida—”

“—wOULD you look at the time! I need to get back to work!” Vida tapped her wrist where she could see the obvious lack of a watch there, turning around and immediately disappearing from her line of sight with a blink of an eye. She cursed underneath her breath, looking up guiltily as the more than angered wolf stood before her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I, uh, can explain?”

He traps her inside the cramped space of the cellar, her back hitting the edge of one of the storages as he leaned his head down to her height.

“You better prepare for our training next week, estrella, because I won’t be holding back.”

She gulped at the wide grin that was plastered on his face, his red eyes glowing much brighter than they were before.

Ah shit. What the hell has she gotten herself into?

‘Celoso’

[This turned out to be protective rather than jealous as I intended]

It had been a while since he had seen her. Ever since the ‘prank incident’ as he likes to call it, he’d been a bit busier than he’d expected. Though, he didn’t want (Y/n) to think he was mad enough for him to ignore her the entire week, so he decided on stopping by the pub just for a quick chat, maybe another peck on the cheek to show her that he wasn’t that mad at her. Upset, sure, but he had to say, he was a little proud they managed to trick him in the first place, even if it were just a few seconds. She even got Vida to cloak her with a spell without him sensing any of it at all!

Walking to the window, he was unseen by everyone that passed by as usual, his eyes scanning the people that littered the pub until his eyes land on (Y/n) standing on her usual spot behind the counter, grinning widely as she leaned forward and chatted away with a guy in his usual stool.

He appeared on the empty seat next to the two, still unseen by anyone in the pub, even (Y/n) as she laughed at something the guy in front of her had said, grinning widely as she wiped away at a glass before filling it up with a drink.

“I mean, surely, you have a husband and kids waiting for you at home?” The man spoke, and (Y/n) only shook her head with a hum. “No? Is it a wife, then?” (Y/n) shook her head again, grinning with amusement. “Ah really? If I had met you long ago, I’m sure I would’ve proposed by now!”

“Woah, hold on there, tiger, you barely even know me.” (Y/n) snickered. “How would you know I’m not some sort of witch waiting to curse you?”

“Curse me all you like, then,” The guy winked, taking a gulp out of his drink. Just who the hell was this guy? “I can just use a true love's kiss to break the curse.” Muerte scoffed at that, eyes squinting in suspicion at the man and what he could want from (Y/n). After all, this had to be some sort of trick. Maybe he was one of those bounty hunter’s goons. Maybe he knew about (Y/n)’s immortality and was there to take it for himself! It would explain why he’d been asking such prying questions earlier.

“True love’s kiss can’t break all curses,” (Y/n) huffed. “But hey, I’m not an expert. I’m not a witch about to curse the living daylights out of you.”

The guy feigned a gasp of fear, but couldn’t keep it up as he snickered, and yet still continued on with his act. “Oh my! Whatever shall I do!”

“You can start by paying for that drink,” (Y/n) grinned, and the guy laughed, digging a hand in his pocket and then placing the golden coins down on the counter.

“There, does that revoke the curse?”

“Hm, I’ll think about it.” She grinned teasingly, and the other only chuckled in reply. She was about to grab the bottle from the counter, only to realize it was empty, a curse escaping her lips. “Ah crap, I need to get another bottle downstairs,” she huffed, “I’ll be right back, if anyone orders a drink could you tell them I’ll be back?”

“Sure thing!” The guy grinned a toothy grin, and she mutters a small ‘thank you’ before quickly heading down to the cellar. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, a hand grabbed at her wrist, and she almost screamed if she didn’t see the familiar poncho she was immediately squashed into, his arms wrapping around her form as he places his chin atop her head, his chest rumbling with a guttural growl.

“Muerte?” She called out to him, and he only squeezed her tighter in his arms. “Are you okay? Did something happen?” she tried to wriggle from his grip, but when she couldn’t get him to budge, she sighed and laid her head against his chest in defeat, not being able to help the small smile that tugged up her lips. Although she wouldn’t say it out loud, she missed the way he held her the way he did that day on her couch.

“I don’t trust him,” he grumbled, and she looked up at him in confusion. “He could be one of those men looking for revenge for their boss, he could have been watching from afar when that other guy tried to kill you in that alley.”

“What are you—? Are you talking about Damien?” she manages to pull herself away from him, looking at him with the slightest bit of amusement glinting in her eyes.

“I don’t care who he is, he might want to kill you.”

“Calm down,” she places a hand on his shoulder and gives him a gentle squeeze. “It’s fine, he’s just passing by, he’s on his way to Far Far Away and decided to stay in town for the night.”

“That could be a lie, do you know how easy it is to lie?”

“It could also be the truth,” she sighed, rolling her eyes and quickly grabbing 2 new bottles from the cellar. “But it could also be just you being jealous.”

“I—” He paused, his face scrunching up in annoyance. “I don’t get jealous!”

(Y/n) snickered. “Sure, sure,” she grinned, “If you need me, I’ll be talking with Dam—” she gasped as she was suddenly jerked back, her back hitting the wall as Muerte looms over her, his face scrunched with annoyance.

“Don’t,” he gives in, leaning over and leaning his head beside hers. “I just… I don't want to see you get hurt.”

“ I know,” she sighed, momentarily using one hand to hold both bottles as she lifts her now empty hand up to the top of his head and giving him a slight scratch that made him hum in satisfaction. “I didn’t know you like to be pet,” she grinned in amusement, and he let out a chuckle. She couldn’t help but grin at the sight of his tail wagging behind him, and that only tempted her to pet him more, a laugh escaping her lips.

After a few minutes, the muffled chatter from upstairs brings her back to reality, trying to wriggle out of Muerte's grip.

“This is fun and all, but you know I have to go back up there at some point.”

“I can keep you here as long as I want.” Muerte hummed, and though she couldn’t see his face, she could hear the challenging grin on his tone, a scoff escaping her.

“No you can’t.”

He did. Almost.

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